<^  PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


Presented  by  Ly.  F.  L.  Fc\-tV< 


BX  5255    .LA  1874 
Leighton,   Robert,  1611-168A 
The  whole  works  of  Robert 
Leighton,  archbishop  of 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/wholeworksofrobeOOIeig_0 


^  ■ 


TDE 


IVlARl6lyi4  } 


WHOLE  WORKS 


OF 

ROBERT  LEIGHTON,  D.I)., 

ARCHBISHOP  OF  GLASGOW. 

TO  ■WHICH  IS  PREFIXED, 

A  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR, 

BY 

JOHN  NORMAN  PEARSON,  M.  A., 

'  OF  TKINITT  COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE. 

Oilxj  9eCn>  Kal  aidpurrruv  deiuv  Kol  eidcuitovuv  /3wf,  inaXXay))  tuv  uXhjv  tuv  t^cV,  /Ji'of,  arfidoi'Oi  r&j 
(j>r/fit.  vorou  TTpdf //oyoc  — Plotini  EnkeaD.  6  L.  c.  xi.  9. 

WITH  A  TABLE  OF  THE  TEXTS  OF  SCRIPTURE, 

AND    AN. INDEX    OF    THE  SUBJECTS, 

COMPII.ED  KXPRESi^LT  FOR  THIS  EDITION. 


NEW  YORK: 
ROBERT   CARTER   AND  BROTHERS, 

&  3  0    r.  R  O  A  D  W  A  Y . 
1874. 


NOTICE. 


Having  determined  to  issue  the  most  perfect  edition  which  could  possibly  be  com- 
piled of  the  works  of  Archbishop  Leighton,  it  became  an  object  of  solicitude  to  prt> 
cure  the  best  European  copies  of  his  writings.  Two  editions,  one  published  in  London 
in  1835,  and  the  other  at  Edinburgh,  in  1840,  were  designated  as  the  most  appri.ved 
standard  compilations.  Upon  a  careful  examination,  however,  it  was  discovered  that 
the  London  work  comprised  materials  which  were  not  inserted  in  the  Edinburgh  edi- 
tion, and  that  the  latter  included  some  articles  not  found  in  the  English  copy.  That 
this  American  reprint,  therefore,  might  not  be  defective,  it  was  resolved  to  combine  the 
whole  which  was  found  in  both  series.  This  volume,  therefore,  is  the  only  copy 
which  contains  the  entire  literary  remains  of  the  renowned  author. 

But  it  was  also  perceived  that  both  of  the  British  editions  exhibited  a  great  defect. 
Neither  of  them  possessed  any  reference  at  all  to  the  subjects  which  the  learned  theo- 
logian had  discussed ;  so  that  the  reader  was  utterly  at  a  loss  to  ascertain  in  what  part 
of  the  two  volumes  he  must  look  for  the  illustration  of  either  of  the  multifarious  topi''^ 
which  the  writer  had  imbodied  in  his  commentaries,  exhortations,  lectures,  medita- 
tions, sermons,  and  other  expository  discussions.  This  deficiency  applied  not  only 
to  the  texts  of  Scripture,  but  also  to  the  themes  ;  thus  leaving  the  student  in  complete 
perplexity,  and  depriving  the  reader  of  all  that  benefit  which  arises  from  the  prompt 
acquisition  of  the  knowledge  that  might  be  attained :  giving  him  useless  IrSt  r  in  re- 
search, and  often  wasting  his  time  and  toil  for  utter  disappointment,  'io  remedy 
that  defect,  and  to  facilitate  the  utility  and  edification  comprised  in  this  most  important 
collection  of  theological  disquisitions,  and  to  render  the  work  complete,  two  indexes 
have  been  prepared  expressly  for  this  edition.'  The  first  is  a  table  of  the  texts  of 
Scripture  which  are  introduced,  either  as  themes,  or  as  corroborative  proofs,  which 
latter  use  of  them  often  is  equivalent  to  a  comment.  The  second  is  a  comprehensive 
and  minute  catalogue  of  all  the  principal  subjects  which  are  imbodied  in  the  whole 
series  of  Archbi.sho  >  Leighion's  works. 

The  Publisher  was  induced  thus  to  enhance  the  value  of  this  edition,  by  the  eminent 
rank  which  the  Exposition  of  the  First  Epistle  of  Peter  has  attained — of  which  it  has 
been  pronounced,  that  an  expository  work  upon  any  portion  of  the  sacred  volume  can 


4  NOTICE. 

not  be  named,  which,  for  exalted  devotion,  and  richness  of  evangelical  sentiment, 
equals  the  annotations  of  Lcighton.  Moreover,  the  pre-eminence  of  the  author  him- 
self requires  that  his  works  should  be  presented  to  the  American  public  in  the  most 
complete  form  practicable.  His  matchless  superiority  over  all  his  ecclesiastical  con- 
temporaries in  Scotland,  is  known  to  all  persons  conversant  with  the  history  of  the 
stormy  period  during  which  he  resided  in  that  part  of  Britain  ;  of  which  the  Memoirs 
prefixed,  and  the  Appendix,  display  ample  and  convincing  proof.  Mr.  Pearson's  nar- 
rative, and  the  addenda  by  Mr.  Aikman,  present  to  us  a  charming  biographical  por- 
traiture ;  with  illustrations  of  the  perilous  times  during  which  the  Archbishop  lived, 
that  enhance  both  the  interest  and  value  of  th^  volume. 
Ni:w  Yobs,  Jtttw  13,  1844.  ' 


CONT 


E  N  T  S. 


Page. 

Life  of  Archbishop  Leighton   5 

Preface  by  Dr.  Doddridge   39 

C  ommentary  on  the  First  Epistle  of  Peter .. .  63 

124,  202,  282,328 
Meditations,  critical  and  practical. .  .357,365,  370 

Fragment  on  Psalm  vii   381 

Expository  Lectures  385,392,  404 

Lectures  on  the  Gospel  by  Matthew   411 


SERMONS. 


L 

441 

IL 

The  patient  and  docile  Suflerer. . 

446 

in. 

450 

IV. 

Christ  the  Light  and  Lustre  of  the 

454 

V. 

Christ  the  Light  and  Lustre  of  the 

459 

VL 

464 

VII. 

470 

VIIL 

475 

IX. 

The  Sinner  a  Rebel  against  God 

481 

X. 

The  true  Christian  the  best  Sub- 

484 

XI. 

490 

XIL 

495 

XIII. 

500 

XIV. 

The  Promises  an  Encourasement 

503 

XV. 

505 

XVI. 

509 

XVII. 

512 

XVIII. 

Goodness  of  God,  and  the  Wick- 

edness of  Man  

515 

XIX. 

519 

XX. 

523 

XXL 

527 

XXII. 

531 

XXIIL 

535 

XXIV. 

Folly  of  Man,  and  the  Teaching 

.541 

XXV. 

Mercy  despised,  and  the  Contempt 

545 

XXVL 

Confession  and  Prayer  of  Faith . . 

550 

XXVIL 

Calamities  cautiously  interpreted 

5r.4 

XXVIII. 

558 

XXIX. 

Love  tlie  fulfillins  of  the  Law.. , 

560 

XXX. 

The  Law  written  upon  the  Heart 

562 

XXXL 

G(«l's  End  and  Design  in  Affliction 

564 

XXXII. 

Suitable  Exercise  in  Affliction. . . 

569 

.574 

581 

Elxposition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  

594 

Page. 


Exposition  of  the  Ten  Commandments   619 

Short  Catechism   643 

THEOLOGrCAL  LECTURES   645 

I.    Introduction   646 

11.    Happiness — the  desire  of  it  im- 
planted in  the  human  Heart.. .  649 

III.  Happiness  of  Man   650 

IV.  Human  Felicity  not  in  earthly 

Thinss   652 

V.    Immortality  of  the  Soul   655 

VI.    Happiness  of  the  Life  to  come. . .  658 

VIL    Being  of  God    660 

VIIL    Worship  of  God,  Providence,  and 

the  Law,  given  to  Man   664 

IX.  Pleasure  and  Utility  of  Religion..  666 

X.  Decrees  of  God  f   668 

XI.    Creation  of  the  World   670 

XII.  Creation  of  Man   673 

XIII.  Providence   675 

XIV.  Christ  the  Savior   680 

XV.    Regeneration   681 

XVI.    Regeneration   685 

XVII.    True  Felicity  and  eternal  Punish- 
ment  688 

XVIII.    The  Christian  Religion  the  true 

Vi'ny  to  Happiness    690 

XIX.  Holiness  is  the  only  Happiness  on 

this  Earth  '   693 

XX.  Happiness  in  God   694 

XXI.  Divine  Attributes   698 

XXII.    How  to  regulate  Life,  according  to 

the  Rules  of  Religion   700 

XXin.    Purity  of  Life   702 

XXIV.    Before  the  Communion   704 

Exhortation  to  Students   706 

Exhortations  to  the  Candidates  for  the  De- 
gree of  Master  of  Arts  in  the  University 

of  Edinburgh   708,  710,  711,  713,  715 

716,  718,  720 

Valedictory  Oration   721 

Moderate  Episcopacy   723 

Fragment  on  Ezra  ix   725 

Charges  to  the  Clergy  of  the  Synod  of  Dun- 
blane  726 

Rules  and  Instructions  for  a  holy  Life   732 

APPENDIX. 

Biographical  Notices  -   739 

Letters   759 


8 


THE  LIFE  01?  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


may  be  conjectured  from  his  having  brought 
liimsell"  luuler  the  lash  ol'  the  law,  in  the 
preceding  reign,  by  stubbornly  refusing  to 
abandon  the  irregular  practice  of  medicine. 
There  is  a  fact,  moreover,  not  generally 
known,  which  may  account  for  the  extreme 
rigor  with  whicli  his  subsequent  otfences 
were  visited.  Not  only  was  the  book,  for 
which  he  was  so  maltreated,  and  which  is 
entitled  "  Zion's  Plea  against  Prelacy,"  out- 
rageously scurrilous  and  inflammatory  in  its 
couieuts,  but  there  were  collateral  circum- 
stances attending  its  publication,  that  be- 
tokened a  mischievous  purpose  m  the  writer. 
In  the  first  edition,  neither  the  name  of  the 
author  nor  of  the  printer  is  given,  and  in- 
stead of  the  date  in  the  usual  way,  we  find 
— "Printed  the  year  and  moneth  wherein 
Rochell  was  lost."  The  frontispiece  exhibits 
on  one  page  a  lamp  burning,  supported  by  a 
book,  and  guarded  by  two  men  with  drawn 
swords ;  which  hieroglyphic  is  explained  by 
the  legend :  — 

"  Prevailing  prelats  strive  to  quench  our  light, 
Except  ytnir  sacred  power  quash  their  might." 

On  the  other  pa^e  is  the  representation  of  an 
antique,  dilapidated  tower.  Out  of  its  ruins 
groAVs  an  elder-bush,  from  the  branches  of 
which  several  bishops  are  tumbling,  one  of 
them  holding  in  his  hand  a  large  box.  This 
device  is  interpreted  by  the  motto  : — 

"  The  tottering  prelats,  with  their  tnimpery,  all, 
Shall  moulder  domi,  lil<e  elder  from  a  wall." 

The  place  of  Archbishop  Leighton's  birth 
has  been  much  debated  It  is  commonly  be- 
lieved that  he  was  a  native  of  London  ;  on 
the  strength,  I  imagine,  of  Burnet's  asser- 
tion, that  he  was  sent  thence  to  be  ed- 
ucated in  Scotland.  This,  however,  is  in- 
ferring too  much  :  for  he  may  have  been  car- 
ried up,  in  his  infancy,  from  Scotland  to 
London,  when  his  father  settled  in  that  city. 
Craig  also  claims  him  for  her  son:  but  this 
claiiu  seems  to  have  no  stronger  foundation, 
than  the  fact  of  his  direct  or  collateral  an- 
cestors having  been  considerable  proprietors 
in  that  village :  a  fact  too  weak  to  sustain 
the  hypothesis  raised  on  it  by  the  inhabit- 
ants, through  a  virtuous  solicitude  to  make 
out  their  afiinity  with  so  eminent  a  person. 
To  my  mind  there  are  unanswerable  rra- 
Eons  for  assigning  that  distinction  to  Edin- 
burgh. In  the  inscription  on  his  tombstone, 
Leighton  is  said  to  have  died  in  his  74th 
year ;  and  deducting  73  from  1684,  the  un- 
disputed year  of  his  decease,  we  shall  have 
1611  for  the  year  of  his  nativity.  The  same 
amount  is  obtained  by  deducting  30,  the 
numbt;r  of  bis  years  when  he  took  orders, 
frcm  1041,  which  is  the  date  of  that  transac- 
lion.  Now  his  father  was  at  that  time  pro- 
lessor  of  moral  philosophy  in  Edinburgh  col- 
lege, and  did  not  go  up  to  London  until  two 
years  afterward;*  and  it  is  certainly  to  be 

•  See  Chalmer's' Biograph  Diet. 


presumed,  not  a  shadow  of  evidence  appear* 
ing  to  the  contrary,  that  the  son  was  born  in 
the  place  wherein  the  father  "was  then  re- 
siding. He  had  one  brother,  of  whom  men- 
tion will  be  made  hereafter,  who  was  younger 
than  he  ;  and  two  sisters,  one  of  whom  was 
married  to  a  Mr.  Lighimaker,  a  gentleman 
of  landed  property  in  Sussex  ;  and  the  other 
to  Mr.  Rathband,  as  appears  from  a  single 
allusion  in  one  of  her  brother's  letters. 

Of  his  early  vears  there  is  left  but  a  scanty 
though  valuable  notice.  It  comes  to  us  on 
the  unquestionable  authority  of  his  sister, 
that  his  singular  teachableness  and  piety, 
from  his  tenderest  age,  endeared  hira  greati) 
to  his  parents  ;  who  used  to  speak  with  ad- 
miration of  his  extraordinary  exemption  from 
childish  faults  and  follies. 

At  college  his  behavior  was  so  uniformly 
excellent,  as  to  attract  the  notice  of  his  su- 
periors;  and  one  of  them,  in  a  letter  to  Dr. 
Leighton,  congratulates  him  on  having  a 
son,  in  whom  Providence  has  made  him 
abundant  compensation  for  his  sufferings. 
There  is  still  in  existence  a  humorous  poem 
on  Dr.  Aikenhead,  warden  of  the  college, 
which  Leighton  wrote  when  an  undergradu- 
!  ate.  It  evinces  a  good-natured  playfulness 
I  of  fancy,  but  it  not  of  a  merit  that  calls  for 
publication. 

After  taking  his  degree,  Leighton  passed 
several  years  in  travel,  and  in  the  studies 
proper  to  qualify  hira  for  future  usefulness.  It 
was  his  mature  opinion,  that  great  advantages 
are  to  be  reaped  from  a  residence  in  Ibreign 
parts ;  inasmuch  as  a  large  acquaintance 
with  the  sentiments  of  strangers,  and  with 
the  civil  and  religious  institutions,  the  man- 
ners and  usages  of  other  countries,  conduces 
to  unshackle  the  mind  of  indigenous  preju- 
dices, to  abate  the  self-sufficiency  of  partial 
knowledge,  and  to  produce  a  sober  and 
charitable  estimate  of  opinions  that  differ 
from  our  own.  Many  years  afterward,  he 
recommended  a  similar  course  to  his  nephew, 
alleging,  that  "  there  is  a  very  peculiar  ad- 
vantage in  travel,  not  to  be  understood  but 
by  the  trial  of  it ;  and  that  for  himself  lie 
nowise  repented  the  time  he  had  spent  in 
that  way." 

During  his  stay  abroad,  Leighton  was  often 
at  Douay,  where  some  of  his  relations  were 
settled.  '  In  this  seminaiy  he  appears  to 
have  met  with  some  religionists,  whose 
lives  were  framed  on  the  strictest  model  (if 
primitive  piety.  Though  keenly  alive  to  the 
faults  of  popery,  he  did  not  consider  the  Ro- 
mish church  to  be  utterly  antichristian  ;  but 
thought  he  discerned  in  it  beautiful  frag- 
ments of  the  original  temple,  however  dis- 
figured with  barbarous  additions,  and  almost 
hid  beneath  the  rampant  growth  of  a  bale- 
ful superstition.  Having  learnt  from  these 
better  portions  of  that  corrupt  establishment, 
that  its  constitutions  were  not  altogether 
dross,  he  went  on  to  discover  that  the  frame 
of  his  o-vvn  church  was  not  entirely  gold 


THE  LIFE  or  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


nor  (lid  it  escape  him,  that  in  the  indiscrim- 
inate extermination,  so  clamorously  de- 
manded in  Scotland,  of  all  those  offices  of 
devotion,  which  symbolized  with  the  Ro- 
man catholic  services,  there  would  be  swept 
away  some  of  the  noblest  formularies  and 
most  useful  institutes  of  the  primitive  church. 
It  was  probably  from  this  period  that  his 
veneration  for  the  presbyterian  platform  be- 
gan to  abate. 

He  was  thirty  years  old  before  he  took 
holy  orders  ;  and  in  postponing  it  to  so  ripe 
an  age  his  entrance  on  the  ministry,  as  well 
as  in  retiring  so  early  as  he  did  from  its  more 
laborious  province,  he  acted  agreeably  to  his 
avowed  opinion,  that  "  some  men  preach  too 
soon,  and  some  too  long."  His  judgment  of 
what  ia  most  reverent  toward  God  corre- 
sponded with  those  canons  of  the  Levitical 
economy,  which  prescribe  a  mature  age  lor 
engaging  in  the  more  arduous  department  of 
the  sacerdotal  office,  and  grant  an  honorable 
superannuation  at  that  period  of  life,  when 
the  strength  of  mind  and  body  commonly 
begins  to  decay.  It  was  on  the  sixteenth 
day  of  December,  A.  D.  1641,  that  Leighton 
was  ordained  and  admitted  minister  of  New- 
])ottle,  in  Midlothian,  a  parish  in  the  presby- 
tery of  Dalkeith.  All  diligence  has  been 
used  to  retrieve  traditional  reminiscences  of 
the  manner  in  which  this  holy  man  dis- 
cliarged  the  duties  of  the  office,  in  under- 
taking which  he  had  evinced  so  much  reli- 
gious caution.  But  research  has  been  fruit- 
less. No  distinct  traces  remain  of  those  pa- 
rochial ministrations,  which  doubtless  fill  an 
ample  page  in  that  book  of  the  Divine  rc- 
iiieinbrance,  from  which  no  work  of  faith, 
no  labor  of  love,  is  ever  obliterated. 

Of  the  general  tenor,  however,  of  his  life 
and  ministerial  occupations,  we  have  a  few 
short  but  invaluable  notices  in  Burnet's  His- 
tory of  his  own  Time.  Engrossed  with  the 
care  of  his  parish,  he  seldom  mixed  in  the 
convocations  of  the  presbyters,  whose  prac- 
tice of  descanting  on  the  Covenant  from  the 
pulpit  he  greatly  disapproved  ;  and  still  more 
ilipir  stern  determinatioi.  'o  force  that  bitter 
morsel  on  conscientious  objectors.  It  was 
his  airn  not  to  win  proselytes  to  a  party,  but 
converts  to  Jesus  Christ.  And  exemplary 
i'wleed  must  he  have  been,  since  the  picture 
of  a  finished  evangelist,  which  his  intimate 
friend  has  drawn  in  the  beautiful  Discourse 
of  the  Pastoral  Care,  was  correctly  copied 
from  the  lively  pattern  exhibited  bv  Lei<,'h- 
ton.  Yet  the  blameless  sanctity  of  his  man- 
ners, his  professional  excellence,  and  his  stu- 
dious inoffensiveness,  were  not  enough  to 
content  tlie  zealots  of  his  church.  In  a 
synod  he  was  pulilicly  re|)rimanded  for  not 
'  preaching  up  the  times."  "Who,"  he 
asked,  "does  preach  up  the  times?"  It  was 
answered  that  all  the  brethren  did  it. 
"  Then,"  he  rejoined,  "  if  all  of  you  preach 
up  the  limes,  you  may  surely  allow  one  poor 
oroiher  to  preach  up  Christ  Jesusand  eternity."' 


Although  Leighton  was  averse,  both  by 
temper  and  principle,  from  meddling  with 
politics,  yet  there  were  certain  conjunctures 
of  perplexity  and  peril,  in  which  he  though 
himself  bound  to  set  an  example  to  his  flock 
of  intrepid  loyalty.  In  the  year  1648,  he  ac- 
ceded to  the  Engagement  for  the  King ;  a 
step  which  would  have  involved  him  in  se- 
rious trouble  with  the  republican  govern- 
ment, but  for  the  interposition  of  the  Earl 
of  Lothian,  and  the  charms  of  his  personal 
character.  When  the  Engagement  expired, 
in  the  discomfiture  of  those  enterprises  to 
which  it  had  given  birth,  he  was  placed  in  a 
very  delicate  predicament ;  in  which,  how- 
ever, his  behavior  was  not  less  creditable  to 
his  political  discretion,  than  to  his  Christian 
boldness  and  integrity.  Called  upon  in  his 
official  capacity  to  admonish  some  of  his 
parishioners,  after  they  had  made  a  public 
profession  of  repentance,  for  being  actively 
concerned  in  that  Engagement  to  which  he 
himself  had  subscribed,  he  directed  their 
consciences  to  the  many  offences  against 
morality  and  religion  which  they  had  com- 
mitted in  the  course  of  their  military  ser- 
vice; and  of  these,  without  touching  on  the 
grounds  of  the  expedition  and  the  merits  of 
their  cause,  he  solemnly  charged  them  tc 
repent. 

About  this  time,  we  find  him  in  correspond- 
ence with  several  of  the  episcopal  clergy, 
and  especially  with  Bishop  Burnet's  father. 
His  mind  seems  to  have  been  led  by  observa- 
tion of  the  faults  under  which  the  presbyte- 
rian disciple  labors,  to  an  attentive  examina- 
tion of  the  e[)iscopal  form,  against  which  he 
had  imbibed  the  strongest  aversion  with  his 
mother's  milk  ;  an  aversion,  which  would 
gather  strength  from  sympathy  witli  his  fa- 
ther, of  whose  martyrdom,  as  he  would  be 
taught  to  esteem  it,  his  soul  must  have 
drunk  in  a  deep  resentment.  Although 
!  Leighton  never  considered  any  particular 
mode  of  ecclesiastical  polity  a  point  of  suffi- 
cient ni(;ment  to  justify  schism,  yet  it  is- 
clear  that  from  this  time  he  regarded  the 
episcojial  model  as  adapted,  beyond  any 
other,  to  the  edification  of  the  church  uni- 
versal. Assuredly  it  was  no  prf)spect  of 
secular  preferment  that  heljx'd  him  to  shake 
off  the  prepossessions  of  liis  early  vears  ; 
for  his  worldly  interest  pointed  another  way. 
Besides, conversions  to  which  unrightecjus  mo- 
tives have  conduced,  are  usually  character- 
ized by  extracjrdiiiary  bitterness  against  the 
deserted  party  ;  whereas  Leighton,  after  he 
was  become  a  moderate  episcopalian,  breath- 
ed nothing  but  good-will  and  kindness  tow- 
ard liis  former  associates.  He  wholly  se- 
questered himself,  indeed,  from  their  legis- 
lative conclaves,  and  at  length  relinquished' 
his  cure.  But  he  took  this  last  step,  not 
from  any  scrtiple  about  continuing  to  officiate 
in  a  church  framed  on  the  Genevese  plaifonn, 
but  from  a  hearty  rei)Uirnance  to  tliiit  system 
of  spiritual  despotism,  which  had  been  linked. 


10 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP*  LEIGHTON. 


by  violent  and  ambitious  men  -with  the 
cause  of  the  presbytery. 

It  must  have  been  in  the  latter  part  of  liis 
residence  atNewboitle  that  a  calamity  befell 
him,  which  elicited  a  striking  manifestation 
of  his  iuditference  to  money,  of  his  large- 
heartedness  and  piety.  At  his  father's  death, 
he  came  into  possession  of  about  a  thousand 
pounds ;  which  sum  was,  in  fact,  his  whole 
property.  This  he  placed,  or  suffered  to  re- 
main, in  the  hands  of  a  merchant  without 
adequate  security ;  notwithstanding  the  re- 
monstrances of  Mr.  Lightmaker,  his  brother- 
m-law,  who  urged  him  to  come  up  to  Lon- 
don and  vest  it  more  safely.  Leighton's  re- 
ply to  this  good  counsel  is  very  characteristic. 

"  Sir  :  I  thank  you  for  your  letter.  That 
you  give  me  notice  of  I  desire  to  consider  as 
becomes  a  Christian,  and  to  prepare  to  wait 
for  my  own  removal.  What  business  follows 
upon  my  father's  may  be  well  enough  done 
without  me,  as  I  have  writ  more  at  large  to 

Mr.  E  ,  and  desired  him  to  show  you  the 

letter  when  you  meet.  Any  pittance  belong- 
ing to  me  may  possibly  be  useful  and  need- 
ful for  my  subsistence ;  but  truly,  if  some- 
thing else  draw  me  not,  I  shall  never  bestow 
so  long  a  journey  on  that  I  account  so  mean 
a  business.  Remember  my  love  to  my  sister 
your  wife,  and  to  my  brother  and  sister 
Rathband,  as  you  have  opportunity.  I  am 
glad  to  hear  of  the  welfare  of  you  all,  and 
above  all  things,  wish  for  myself  and  you  all 
our  daily  increase  in  likeness  to  Jesus  Christ, 
and  growing  heavenward,  where  he  is  who 
is  our  treasure.  To  his  grace  I  recommend 
you. 

"  Sir,  your  affectionate  brother, 
"  R.  Leighton. 

"  December  21 ,1649.  " 

Before  long,  the  event  anticipated  by  Mr. 
Lightmaker  took  place.  The  merchant  fail- 
ed, and  Leisrhton's  patrimony  was  irretriev- 
ably lost.  How  betook  this  misfortune  may 
be  learned  from  the  following  letter  to  his 
brother-in-law : — 

"  Sir  :  Your  kind  advice  I  can  not  but  thank 
you  for,  but  I  am  not  easily  taught  that  les- 
son. I  confess  it  is  the  wiser  way  to  trust 
nobody  :  but  there  is  so  much  of  the  fool  in 
my  nature  as  carries  me  rather  to  the  other 
extreme,  to  trust  everybody.  Yet  I  will  en- 
deavor to  take  the  best  courses  I  can  in  that 
little  business  you  write  of.  It  is  true  there 
IS  a  lawful,  yea  a  needl'ul  diligence  in  such 
things  ;  but,  alas  !  how  poor  are  they  to  the 
portion  of  believers,  where  our  treasure  is. 

"  That  little  that  was  in  Mr.  E.'s  hands  hath 
failed  me  ;  but  I  shall  either  have  no  need 
of  it,  or  be  supplied  some  other  way.  And 
this  is  the  relief  of  my  rolling  thoughts,  that 
while  i  am  writing  this,  this  moment  is  pas- 
sing away,  and  all  the  hazards  of  want  and 
sickness  shall  be  at  an  end.  My  mother 
■vrites  to  me,  and  presses  my  coming  up.-  1 


know  not  yet  if  that  can  be ;  but  I  intend, 
God  willing,  so  soon  as  I  can  conveniently 
if  I  come  not,  to  take  some  course  that 
things  be  done  as  if  I  were  there.    I  hope 
you  will  have  patience  in  the  meantime, 
ilemember   my  love   to  my  sisters.  The 
Lord  be  with  you,  and  lead  you  in  his  ways 
"  Your  loving  brother, 
"  R.  Leighton. 
"Newbolth,  Feb.  4,  1650." 

Being  in  England  some  time  afterward, 
his  recent  loss  was  touched  upon  by  Mr. 
Lightmaker,  who  regretted  that  he  had  so 
sadly  misplaced  his  confidence.  "  Oh  !  no 
more  of  that,"  cried  Leighton  ;  "  the  good 
man  has  escaped  from  the  care  and  vexation 
of  that  business."  "  What,  is  that  all  you 
make  of  the  matter?"  rejoined  his  brother- 
in-law  with  surprise.  "  Truly,"  answered 
the  other,  "  if  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  after 
losing  nineteen  times  as  much  of  yearly  in- 
come, can  dance  and  sing,  while  the  solid 
hopes  of  Christianity  will  not  avail  to  sup- 
port us,  we  had  better  be  as  the  world." 

Somewhere  about  this  time — for  the  date 
can  not  be  assigned  with  certainty — there 
happened  an  accident  which  drew  forth  a 
proof  of  his  admirable  self-possesion  in  the 
sudden  prospect  of  death.  He  had  taken 
the  water  at  the  Savoy  stairs,  in  company 
with  his  brother  Sir  Ellis,  his  lady,  and  some 
others,  and  was  on  his  way  to  Lambeth, 
when,  owing  to  some  mismanagement,  the 
boat  was  in  imminent  danger  of  going  to  the 
bottom.  While  the  rest  of  the  party  were 
pale  with  terror,  and  most  of  them  crying 
out,  Leighton  never  for  a  moment  lost  his 
accustomed  serenity.  To  some,  who  after- 
ward expressed  their  astonishment  at  his 
calmness,  he  replied :  "  Why,  what  harm 
Avould  it  have  been,  if  we  had  all  been  saft 
landed  on  the  other  side  1"  In  the  habit  of 
dying  daily,  and  of  daily  conversing  with  the 
world  of  spirits,  he  could  never  be  surprised 
or  disconcerted  by  a  summons  to  depart  out 
of  the  body. 

Another  anecdote  of  him,  which  bearf 
wiiness  to  his  devout  equanimity  on  perilous, 
occasions,  belongs  to  this  period  of  his  his- 
tory. During  the  civil  wars,  when  the  roy- 
alist army  was  lying  in  Scotland,  Leighton 
was  anxious  to  visit  his  brother,  who  bore 
arms  in  the  king's  service,  before  an  engage- 
ment which  was  daily  expected  should  take 
place.  On  his  way  to  the  camp  he  was  be- 
nighted in  the  midst  of  a  vast  thicket  ;  and 
having  deviated  from  the  path,  he  sought  in 
vain  for  an  outlet.  Almost  spent  with  fa- 
tigue and  hunger,  he  began  to  think  his  sit- 
uation desperate,  and  dismounting  he  spread 
his  cloak  upon  the  ground,  and  knelt  down 
to  pray.  With  implicit  devotion  he  resigned 
his  soul  to  God  ;  entreating,  hoAvever,  that  if 
it  were  not  the  divine  pleasure  for  him  then 
to  conclude  his  days,  some  way  of  deliver- 
I  ance  might  be  opened.    Then  remounting 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


11 


his  horse,  he  threw  the  reins  upon  its  neck  ; 
and  the  animal,  left  to  itself,  or  rather  to  the 
conduct  of  an  Almighty  Providence,  made 
straight  into  the  high  road,  thridding  all  the 
mazes  of  the  wood  with  imerring  certainty. 

In  the  year  1652,  after  eleven  years  of  close 
residence  on  his  cure,  Leighton  tendered  his 
resignation  to  the  presbytery.  At  first  it 
was  declined,  but  in  the  year  following  they 
were  induced  to  accept  it ;  and  on  Feb.  3, 
1653,  his  ministerial  connexion  with  New- 
bottle  was  dissolved.  Shortly  after  this  af- 
fair, he  was  chosen  primar  or  principal  of 
the  university  of  Edinburgh,  a  situation 
which  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  accept,  be- 
cause it  was  totally  unconnected  with  the 
church  as  a  body  politic.  It  was  hardly 
possible  that,  at  such  a  period  of  civil  dis- 
sension, his  election  should  be  unanimous  ; 
but  although  it  was  not  cordially  approved 
of  by  all  parties,  yet  such  was  the  homage 
paid  to  his  uncommon  merit,  that  it  encoun- 
tered no  direct  opposition.  It  appears  that, 
upon  the  death  of  Principal  Adamson  in 
1652,  Mr.  William  Colville,  at  that  time 
minister  of  the  English  church  at  Utrecht, 
was  elected.  But  in  consequence  of  '  some 
obstructions"  (as  the  phrase  runs  m  the 
Council  Register  of  Edinburgh),  the  nature 
of  which  is  not  explained,  the  election  was 
set  aside  on  the  17th  of  January,  1653,  one 
year's  stipend  being  allowed  to  the  deposed 
warden,  to  compensate  his  trouble  and  ex- 
pense in  coming  over  from  Holland.  As  this 
gentlemen  was  known  for  his  monarchical 
principles,  it  is  probable  that  the  obstruc- 
tions hinted  at  proceeded  from  Oliver  Crom- 
well ;  for  it  is  certain  that,  about  this  time, 
lue  principals  of  King's  college,  Aberdeen, 
of  Glasgow,  and  of  St.  Andrew's,  paid  the 
forfeit  of  their  stubborn  loyalty  with  their 
academical  places.  The  selfsame  day  on 
which  the  office  was  declared  vacant,  Leigh- 
ton  was  chosen  to  it.  The  mmisters  of  the 
city,  who  were  partial  to  Colville,  a  man  of 
real  worth  and  talent,  assisted  at  the  election 
of  his  successor  in  obedience  to  the  charter, 
but  refused  to  concur  in  it ;  at  the  same 
time  expressing  a  wish  that  their  attend- 
ance could  have  been  dispensed  with,  "  since 
they  were  content  with  the  man,  though  not 
clear  in  ;he  manner  of  the  call."* 

In  this  situation  he  was  eminently  useful. 
One  of  his  earliest  measures  was  to  revive 
the  obsolete  practice  of  delivering,  once  in 
ihe  week,  a  Latin  lecture  on  some  theologi- 
cal subject.  These  prelections,  which  are 
fortunately  preserved,  attracted  such  general 
admiration,  that  the  public  hall  in  which  he 
pronounced  them  used  lo  be  thronged  with 
luditors,  who  were  all  enchanted  with  the 
purity  of  his  style,  and  with  his  animated 
Jelivcry.  To  the  students  under  his  care  he 
was  indefati^ably  attentive,  instructing  them 
singly  as  well  as  collectively  ;  and  to  many 

•  Sfe  Bower's  Hist,  of  the  Univ.  of  Edin  ,  vol.  i., 
pp.  2G1,  263,  tc. 


youths  of  capacity  and  distmction  his  wise 
and  aiTectionate  exhortations  were  lastingly 
beneficial. 

Of  his  proceedings,  while  he  held  this 
academical  post,  some  particulars  are  ex- 
tant, which  bespeak  him  gifted  with  talents 
for  active  business.  Two  years  after  his  ap- 
pointment, he  was  deputed  by  the  Provost 
and  Council,  to  apply  to  the  Protector  in 
London,  for  an  augmentation  of  the  revenues 
of  the  college.  A  minute  of  the  Town  Cotm- 
cil  Register  indicates  that  his  mission  was 
successful. 

The  year  following,  he  called  the  atten- 
tion of  the  magistrates  to  a  report  of  some 
suspicious  houses  having  been  detected  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  college  ;  and  the  ef- 
fectual measures  were  set  on  foot,  at  his  in- 
stigation, for  extirpating  the  nuisance. 

Neither  was  he  regardless  of  those  subor- 
dinate establishments,  to  which,  as  they 
were  not  comprehended  within  the  immedi- 
ate circle  of  his  duties,  a  principal  of  austerer 
dignity,  or  of  inferior  zeal,  might  not  have 
condescended.  Observing  that  the  collegi- 
ans made  little  way  in  the  higher  branches 
of  science  and  literature,  he  searched  into 
the  cause  of  their  deficiency,  and  quickly 
found  it  in  the  want  of  a  sound  rudiincntal 
education.  For  the  cure  of  this  evil  he  pro- 
posed that  grammar-schools  should  be  found- 
ed in  the  several  presbyteries,  and  be  suita- 
bly endowed  ;  and  he  advised  that  Cromwell 
should  be  solicited  lo  assign  the  funds  requi- 
site for  this  purpose  "  out  of  the  concealed 
revenues  of  the  Kirk  rents."  He  further  rec- 
ommended that  some  elementary  grammar, 
part  English  and  part  Latin,  should  be  com- 
piled for  the  use  of  these  seminaries  ;  and  in 
order  to  take  immediate  advantage  of  the 
Protector's  bounty,  should  he  graciously  ac- 
cede to  their  petition,  he  moved  that  instruc- 
tions be  issued  forthwith  to  magistrates, 
ministers,  and  masters  of  fajnilies,  enjoining 
them  to  set  about  obtaining  a  "  Locality" 
for  the  proposed  establishments. 

In  the  same  year  he  offered  to  preach  in 
the  college  hall  to  the  scholars,  once  on  the 
sabbath  of  every  third  or  fourth  week,  taking 
turns  with  tlie  professors  ;  an  offer  which  ap- 
pears to  have  been  accepted  by  the  Town 
Council. 

Bound  up  with  the  book  entitled  Naphtali, 
IS  a  letter  from  James  Mitchell,  the  stern 
fanatic,  who  suffered  for  his  attempt  on  the 
life  of  Archbishop  Sharp.  In  this  letter  he 
vindicates  himsell'  for  the  part  he  took  in 
the  Pentland  insurrection,  on  the  ground  of 
his  having  been  required,  at  college,  to  sub- 
scribe the  National  Covenant,  and  the  Sol- 
emn League  and  Covenant,  which  were  ten 
dered  to  him  along  with  the  other  candi- 
dates for  Laurcation,  A.  D.  1656,  by  the  Prin- 
cipal Le'ghton.*  There  seems  no  reason  to 
question  the  veracity  of  this  statement.  It 
was  quite  consistent  with  Leighton 's  princi- 

•  See  Naphtali,  1761,  p.  373;  and  Wodrow  MSS. 


12 


THe:  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTOJV. 


pies  to  submit  ,c  existing  authorities  ;  and  to 
consuler  this  jr  the  oilier  form  of  govern- 
ment, wlieiher  in  church  or  slate,  a  point 
of  vastly  inferior  importance  to  concord  and 
quietness.  Against  the  matter  of  the  cove- 
nants he  seems  not  to  have  enteriaified,  at 
that  time,  any  strong  objection,  but  only  to 
their  being  made  engines  of  tyrannizing  over 
men's  consciences,  and  oppressing  their  per- 
sons. Assuredly  he  would  not  himself  have 
issued  an  order  for  withholdmg  degrees  from 
the  scholars  till  ihey  had  professed  their  al- 
legiance to  the  dominant  system.  Still  it 
would  be  a  high  pitch  of  censoriousness,  to 
fiud  Leighton  in  fault  for  proposing-  to  the 
students,  in  his  official  capacity,  a  test  of 
their  attachment  to  the  existing  order  of 
things ;  it  being  certain,  moreover,  that  the 
majority  would  accept  it  cordially,  and  the 
pain  oi'  declining  it  being  only  the  suspension 
of  an  academical  degree. 

Leighton  retained  the  situation  of  Princi- 
pal in  the  University  of  Edinburgh  till  the 
year  1662,  when  a  very  unexpected  call 
obliged  him  to  resign  it  ;  and  his  successor 
was  the  same  Mr.  Colville,  into  whose  chair 
he  had  been  preferred,  when  that  gentle- 
man's election  was  superseded  by  Cromwell, 
as  related  above. 

The  course  of  our  history  has  brought  us 
to  an  epoch,  which  may  be  reckotoed  the 
most  iraporlantof  Leigliton's  life  ; — the  epoch 
of  his  inauguration  to  the  episcopal  office  in 
Scotland.  It  was  not  to  be  expected  that 
this  son  of  a  noted  confessor  in  the  cause  of 
ecclesiastical  parity  should  be  allowed  to 
transfer  his  allegiance  to  prelacy,  without 
incurring  censures  of  ihe  sharpest  edge.  In 
the  spring-tide  of  religious  and  civil  bigotry, 
such  a  deed  was  sure  to  undergo  the  most 
unfavorable  construction  ;  for  even  in  the 
present  day,  when  every  grudge  has  died 
away  between  the  two  national  churches, 
Presbyterian  writers  commonly  regard  this 
transaction  as  a  sable  spot  on  the  character  of 
Leighton,  which  it  is  a  large  stretch  of  char- 
ity 10  impute  solely  to  a  misleading  judgment. 
Being  myself  sati:;fied,  after  attentive  exami- 
nation, that  neither  his  understanding  nor 
his  heart  was  in  the  wrong  on  this  occasion, 
I  shall  hope  to  be  excused  if  I  attempt  to  set 
his  conduct  in  its  true  light,  by  prefacing  the 
particulars  ol  his  elevation  to  the  bench, 
with  a  succinct  account  of  the  religious  con- 
dition of  Scotland  at  that  period. 

Charles  II.,  when  first  he  recovered  the 
iLsurped  throne  of  his  fathers,  was  welcomed 
with  every  demonstration  of  delight.  To 
the  eyes  of  an  excited  multitude,  his  reiurn 
was  that  of  a  tutelary  deity,  whose  exile 
had  shed  a  blight  upon  their  wealth  and 
happiness,  and  with  whose  presence  their 
civil  and  religious  prosperity  was  identified. 
Throughout  the  country  this  event  was  cele- 
brated with  intemperate  festivities.  Ttie 
whole  nation  was  in  a  phrensy  of  joy,  and 
seemed  anxious  to  indemnify  itself  for  the 


restraints  which  puritanical  austerity  nart 
imposed,  by  giving  the  loose  reign  to  indul- 
gences that  were  but  too  congonial  with  the 
young  king's  disposition,  and  that  fostered  in 
him  those  licentious  habits  which  have  con- 
signed his  reign  to  the  most  ignominious  page 
of  English  history.  It  is  remarkable  that 
Scotland  shared  largely,  asKirkton  pathetic- 
ally owns,  in  the  popular  intoxication.  A 
covenanted  p" '  ce  established  on  the  throne 
of  the  British^  inds,  was  such  a  proud  spec- 
ta'cle,  as  unhinged  the  habitual  sobriety  of 
the  rigid  presbyterians  ;  and  the  few  who 
escaped  ihe  extensive  contagion  sought  lonely 
places  and  wept,  declaring  that  this  "  mirth 
ran  in  too  carnal  a  strain,"  to  betoken  any 
good  to  the  cause  in  which  it  originated. 

The  state  of  the  English  church  at  this 
juncture  is  so  generally  known,  that  to  de- 
scribe it  would  be  supcrflous.  By  the  iron 
hand  of  Cromwell  episcopacy  had  been  dis- 
placed, to  make  way  for  the  congregational 
discipline  T^^ich  was  brought  in  over  the 
heads  of  the  outwitted  and  indignant  presby- 
terians. But  the  temper  of  the  English  na- 
tion was  ill-suited  to  this  ecclesiastical  con- 
stitution, which  was  generally  borne  with 
impatience,  and  melted  away  like  a  snow- 
wreath,  the  instant  it  felt  the  touch  of  re- 
viving monarchy.  Little  time  was  lost  in 
removing  the  intrusive  ministers  from  the 
benefices,  colleges,  and  other  preferments  of 
which  they  had  possessed  themselves ;  nor 
did  any  material  disturbance  result  from  the 
discontent'  of  the  ousted  party  In  the  fa- 
cility with  which  the  re-establishment  of 
episcopacy  was  effected,  there  was  nothing 
to  surprise  a  considerate  observer.  The  Cran- 
mers,  the  PLidleys,  the  Latimers,  the  Hoop- 
ers, the  Jewels,  who  had  borne  the  brunt  of 
that  dreadful  contest  in  which  this  nation 
burst  the  chains  of  a  debasing  sujjerstition ; 
these  mitred  confessors  and  martyrs  were 
canonized  in  every  English  bosom  ;  whereas 
of  the  advantages  peculiar  to  the  presbyterian 
economy,  the  experience  had  been  short  and 
I  unsatisfactory.  Hence  no  movement  could 
be  easier  in  England  than  a  recurrence  to  the 
episcopal  constitution. 

But  far  other  were  the  predilections  of  our 
northern  brethren.    However  just  the  claim 
of  episcopacy  may  be  to  the  filial  reverence 
of  the  church  of  Scotland,  it  is  nevertheless 
notorious  that,  at  the  dawn  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, the  dignitaries  of  that  church  opposed 
the  current  of  popular  feeling  and  opinion; 
and  by  cruelties  not  less  impolitic  than  wick- 
I  ed,  exasperated  to  the  utmost  a  nation  always 
strongly  tenacious  of  its  sentiments,  and  of 
I  its  resentments  of  real  or  supposed  injuries 
j  The  reformation  of  Scotland  originated  with 
I  teachers  of  the  Lutheran    persuasion,  by 
whom  neither  a  liturgical  service,  nor  a 
j  graduated  scale  of  ecclesiastical  authorities, 
,  was  accounted  a  popish  abomination.  But 
some  of  Calvin's  disciples,  to  whom  it  fell  tc 
I  complete  the  excellent  work,  not  content 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


13 


with  inlTodncing  their  master's  doctrinal 
code  as  the  only  true  interpretation  of  the 
gospel,  coupled  with  it  his  plan  of  church 
polity,  as  hardly  inferior  in  sanctity  and  im- 
portance to  his  theological  system  itself. 
None  but  a  novice  in  human  nature  will  be 
indignant  at  the  early  reformers  for  pushing 
to  an  enormous  extent  their  abhorrence  of 
whatever  savored  of  popery.  Yet  assuredly 
It  was  excessive.  Those  especially  of  the 
Genevese  church  seem  to  have  measured 
ilxeir  proximity  to  the  sound  and  wholesome 
institutes  of  Christ  and  his  apostles,  by  their 
remoteness  from  whatever  obtained  in  Rome, 
whether  of  doctrine  or  discipline  ;  and  this 
sentiment,  not  feeble  in  its  influence  on  the 
minds  of  the  educated  teachers,  became  fierce 
and  outrageous  through  its  union  with  ani- 
mal passions,  when  transfused  into  the 
breasts  of  the  uncivilized  multitude. 

To  Knox,  and  to  his  fellow-helpers  in 
cleansing  the  Scottish  temple,  the  homage 
of  reformed  Christendom  is  due.  Chieftains 
were  they  among  heroes, 

"  Giants  of  mighty  bone  and  bold  emprise," 

wno  achieved  what  men  of  the  plebeian 
standard  would  not  have  dared  even  to  con- 
template ;  and  whose  successes  in  a  warfare 
of  extraordinary  difficulty  have  raised  an 
imperishable  monument  to  their  rare  endow- 
ments, to  their  sleepless  zeal,  their  intrepid 
boldness,  their  uncompromising  honesty, 
their  sublime  devotion.  Yet  it  can  not  be 
disguised  that  nothing  graceful  appears  in 
their  robust  and  sinewy  proportions.  They 
were  rough  artificers,  and  they  worked  with 
rough  tools  ;  preferring  a  rapid  execution  of 
their  project  by  main  force  to  the  tardier  re- 
sults of  address  and  dexterity.  Much  might 
be  urged  to  extenuate,  and  even  to  justify  the 
violence  of  their  procedures.  It  is  not,  how- 
ever, my  present  business  to  calculate  the 
merits,  or  to  palliate  the  errors  of  the  great 
Scotch  reformers ;  a  task  which  has  been 
ably  executed  by  Dr.  M'Crie  in  his  interest- 
ing life  of  John  Knox.  But  I  have  thought 
it  expedient  just  to  glance  at  the  subject  in 
order  that  the  reader,  when  carried  into 
scenes  in  which  the  jealous  attachment  of 
Scotchmen  to  presbyierianism  breaks  out, 
may  have  his  mind  constantly  awako  to  the 
fact,  that  it  was  under  the  presbytcrian  ban- 
ner that  protestantism  triumphed  in  their 
land.  To  this  it  was  owing  that,  in  vulgar 
estimation,  the  pure  faith  of  the  gospel  was 
so  incorporated  with  the  Calvinistic  form  of 
church-government,  as  to  be  unable  to  sur- 
vive a  separation.  A  shrine,  framed  exactly 
on  that  pattern  was  deemed  indispensable 
for  obtaining  the  inhabitation  of  the  Dcitv. 
Accordingly  when  James  [.  endeavored,  tow- 
ard the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  to 
impose  a  moderate  kind  of  episcopacy  on 
Scotland,  his  fnterprise,  thoiiijh  conducted 
as  stealthily  as  possible,  and  with  character- 
istic craft,  was  met  by  a  resistance  under 


which  it  soon  expired.  With  the  disajtroua 
attempts  of  his  son  to  assimilate  the  kirk  to 
its  sister  church,  by  reviving  prelacy  and  in 
troducing  a  liturgy,  every  reader  of  English 
history  is  familiar.  It  were  to  be  wished 
that  the  second  Charles  had  learnt  from  these 
miscarriages  the  fatal  folly  of  violently  med- 
,  dling  with  national  prejudices,  and  of  mak- 
ing such  headlong  inroads  into  the  sanctuarj 
of  the  conscience,  as  men  of  principle  and 
honor  will  resist  at  every  hazard.  So  it  was, 
however,  that  one  of  the  earliest  measures 
of  his  flagitious  reign  was  an  attempt  lo 
force  back  on  the  good  people  of  Scotland 
that  ecclesiastical  discipline  which  they  had 
so  recently  and  loathingly  repudiated. 

To  this  attempt,  which  would  have  been 
unwise  in  any  monarch,  and  in  Charles,  was 
base  and  unprincipled,  we  may  notice  some 
strong  inducements.  Foremost  among  these 
may  be  placed  the  strong  disgust  that  prince 
had  conceived  at  the  covenanters.  He  had 
certainly  been  hard  ridden  by  them  when 
struggling  for  the  throne  ;  and  he  well  knew 
that,  in  promoting  his  restoration  they  had 
not  been  actuated  by  attachment  to  his  per- 
son, but  solely  by  the  hope  that  a  monarch 
who  should  owe  to  their  sword  the  recovery 
of  his  crown,  would  prove  a  pillar  of  the 
kirk,  a  corner-stone  of  the  presbyterian  tem- 
ple. Charles,  however,  whose  memory  had 
a  rare  facility  of  sKaking  off  claims  upon 
his  gratitude,  forgot  the  services  of  the  par- 
ty which  had  lavished  its  blood  in  his  be- 
half, but  remembered  the  humiliations  by 
which  those  services  had  been  purchased. 
Nor  can  it  be  doubted  that  he  had,  in  this 
enterprise,  a  view  to  the  erection  of  an  abso- 
lute throne;  an  hereditary  propensity,  which 
would  doubtless  be  augmented  by  the  blow 
that  had  recently  alighted  on  his  family 
from  the  popular  arm  of  the  British  constitu- 
tion ;  and  to  which  a  new  edge  had  been 
given  by  the  display  he  had  witnessed  in  the 
French  court  of  the  manifold  attractions  of 
an  irresponsible  despotism.  He  conceived, 
moreover,  that  through  episcopacy  a  door 
rnigh'  be  oi)cned,  in  process  of  time,  for  the 
admission  of  popery  ;  a  religion  which  he  is 
reasonably  suspected  to  have  adopted,  not 
from  a  conscientious  preference  of  its  doc- 
trines, but  from  ol)Scrving  that  its  external 
frame  was  excellently  adapted  to  help  for- 
ward his  arbitrary  designs.  He  was  further 
urged  on  by  mercenary  intriguers,  who  pic- 
tured Scotland  to  him  wiih  her  arms  already 
open  to  embrace  an  hierarchical  establish- 
ment ;  and  when  these  representations  were 
enforced  by  the  counsels  of  his  ablest  minis- 
ters, he  no  longer  hesitated  to  befjin  an  ex- 
periment to  which  he  had  from  the  first  been 
prompted  by  his  personal  sentiments,  al- 
thou;,'h  his  good  understanding  had  somewhat 
delayed  it. 

As  far  as  the  accomplishment  of  the  pro- 
ject was  concerned,  it  was  apparently  sound 
policy  to  set  about  it  before  presby  terianism 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


Iiatl  recovered  from  ilie  sliock  it  liad  received 
duriui^  Cruiuwell's  usin  j)iuiun,  and  wliile  the 
i.ation's  bridal  enthusiasm  at  the  union  with 
its  desired  sovereisju  was  still  brisk  and 
nianilinff.  Whether  it  would  have  been 
nraciieable,  as  some  have  imagined,  by  ta- 
kin:r  advantage  of  the  suspicions  which  the 
presbyterians  harbored  of  the  independents, 
to  insinuate  by  I'urtive  gradations  a  moderate 
form  of  episcopacy,  it  is  not  our  present 
business  to  debate.  But  had  the  scheme 
been  ever  so  wise  and  excellent,  it  could 
hardly  have  been  brought  to  a  fortunate 
issue  by  the  agents  to  whose  conduct  it  was 
intrusted.  To  have  given  it  a  fair  chance  of 
success,  there  should  have  been  employed 
upon  it  men  of  experience,  abilities,  and  vir- 
tue ;  men  equally  wary  and  resolute;  deli- 
cate in  managing  national  prejudices,  and 
strong  to  arrest  or  skilful  to  turn,  the  stream 
of  epidemical  passions  ;  men  of  popular  tal- 
ent and  conciliatory  address  :  and  whose  mor- 
al and  religious  character  would  stamp  some 
credit  on  proceedings,  which,  how  much  so- 
ever sweetened,  must  still  have  left  behind  a 
bitter  relish. 

But  instead  of  such  a  choice  being  made, 
the  royal  commission  was  given  to  Middle- 
ton,  a  man  of  base  origin  and  baser  manners, 
obstinate,  choleric,  licentious,  and  cruel.  His 
coadjutor  was  Dr.  James  Sharp,  whose  mem- 
ory is  still  execrated  *by  the  presbyterian 
church,  and  whose  virtues  were  not  of  suffi- 
cient magnitude,  even  in  the  eyes  of  his  own 
party,  for  his  tragical  end  to  secure  him  the 
reputation  of  a  martyr.  By  his  enemies  he 
is  branded  with  every  atrocious  epithet 
which  malevolence  can  coin  or  utter  ;  his 
political  olfencesare  aggravated  :  his  person- 
al character  is  blackened.  That  religious 
bigotry  has  mangled  his  corse  will  be  clear 
.to  any  one,  who  shall  calmly  distinguish  au- 
ih<>niic  facts  from  baseles--  and  improbable 
allegations.  Whoever  per'ses  the  narratives 
of  \Vo(.lruw  and  Kirkton,  will  feel  bound  to 
receive  iheir  charges  against  Sharp  with  no 
common  jealousy,  on  observing  how  little 
careful  tnose  historians  themselves  are  to 
weigh  him  m  an  even  balance.  Bishop  Bur- 
net, whose  delineations  are  occasionally 
tinctured  W'th  private  dislikes,  has  left  a 
very  ill-fa vced  portrait  of  his  moral  charac- 
ter ;  describ  ng  him  as  devoid  of  serious  re- 
ligion, an  ai  tful  sycophant,  whose  integrity 
readily  truck 'ed  to  his  worldly  interests.  On 
the  other  ha  id,  some  favorable  representa- 
tions of  him  have  appeared.  It  has  been 
averred  that  m  the  heavy  chaige  of  having 
betrayed  his  '^arty  he  is  cruelly  belied  ;  inas- 
tiiu<',h  as,he  had  ceased,  before  he  was  made 
a  bishop  to  hold  any  commission  from  the 
prtsby terian  body,  and  was  agent  at  that 
time  for  only  one  part  of  the  ministers,  with 
whom  he  had  a  perfect  understanding.  Of 
his  hlnrality  also  such  testimonies  have  been 
adQUce>I,  :.s  it  would  be  uncaridid  lo  disallow. 
Tb*  truth  p-obablv  is,  that  Sharp  was  honest 


so  long  as  his  honesty  was  unassailed  uj 
considerable  tempiaiions ;  but  he  was  not 
l)roof  against  the  bait  of  a  mitre.  Having 
neither  llrmness  of  principle,  nor  tenderness 
of  conscience,  nor  delicacy  of  honor,  he 
might  easily  persuade  himself  that,  since  no 
op])osition  on  his  part  could  check  the  rc- 
tiueiit  tide  of  episropacy,  to  rise  with  it  to 
the  summit  of  wealth  and  dignity  would  be 
no  illaudible  wisdom.  For  the  great  affairs 
intrusted  to  him  by  the  English  government 
he  wanted  compass  of  mind  and  amenity  of 
temper;  and  he  was  still  more  disqualified 
for  conducting  them  successfully,  by  the  ut- 
ter disrepute  into  which  he  had  fallen  with 
his  countrymen.  But  he  was  an  industrious 
man,  of  some  versatility  of  talent  and  dexter- 
ity in  business  ;  and  these  useful  qualities, 
combined  with  those  prime  requisites  for 
currying  favor  with  an  unprincipled  court,  a 
supple  conscience,  a  patient  obsequiousness, 
and  a  wheedling  tongue,  attracted  ihe  royal 
notice,  and  merited  for  him  the  primacy  of 
Scotland. 

Matters  being  thus  far  advanced  toward 
restoring  the  episcopal  regimen,  the  next 
busmess  was  to  find  persons  qualified  for  its 
highest  stations.  Sydserf,  formerly  Bishop 
of  Galloway,  was  the  only  survivor  of  that 
order  of  dignitaries  in  Scotland.  He  was 
now  appointed  to  Orkney,  the  least  laborious 
see,  and  therefore  the  best  adapted  to  a  man 
almost  past  his  work,  but  who  could  not, 
without  receiving  a  slur  on  his  character,  be 
omitted  in  the  roll  of  new  bishops.  After 
Sharp  had  secured  the  primacy  by  worming 
himself  into  the  good  graces  of  Lord  Claren- 
don, the  appointments  to  the  inferior  sees 
were  given  very  much  into  his  hands.  We 
have  Burnet's  assertion,  and  it  is  corroborated 
by  authenticated  facts,  that  his  choice  was 
generally  very  bad.  Yet  in  company  with 
the  names  of  Fairfowl,  Hamilton,  and  Alex- 
ander Burnet,  we  find  the  venerable  name  of 
Robert  Leighton  : — 

 "  quiile  per  artem 

Inclusum  buxo,  aut  Oricia  terebintho, 

Lucet  ebur." 

Of  this  nomination,  however,  the  credit  is 
denied  to  Sharp  ;  and  it  does  seem  impos- 
sible that  he  should  have  approved  it,  unless 
he  were  ignorant,  which  he  hardly  could  be, 
of  Leighton 's  character. 

The  following  are  the  circumstances  which 
led  to  the  exaltation  of  this  extraordinary 
man  to  a  sphere  of  stormy  greatness,  where- 
in his  apostolic  virtues  gilded  the  gloom, 
which  it  exceeded  even  their  influence  to 
dispel. 

During  the  collegial  vacations,  Leighton 
was  in  the  custom  of  making  excursions  into 
England,  or  across  the  seas,  partly  for  the 
benefit  of  his  health,  and  partly  with  a  view 
of  gaining  a  clear  insight  into  the  state  of 
religious  parties  and  opinions.  He  was  pas- 
sinir  homeward  through  London,  after  a  visit 
to  Bath,  when  he  was  first  mentioned  lo  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


13 


king  as  a  desirable  person  to  include  among 
the  new  bish/jps,  by  Lord  Aubigny,  a  noble- 
man high  in  favor  at  court,  as  well  on  ac- 
count of  his  being  a  papist,  and  privy  to 
Charles's  apostacy,  as  because  his  libertine 
principles  were  congenial  with  those  of  his 
graceless  sovereign.  With  this  powerful 
courtier  Sir  Ellis  Leighton,  secretary  to  the 
Duke  of  York,  was  on  terms  of  intimacy  ; 
and  having  himself  turned  papist  from  mer- 
cenary motives,  he  now  desired  with  no 
higher  views,  the  conversion  of  his  brother 
<  into  a  bishop.  He  was  a  man  of  talent, 
specious  and  aspiring  ;  and  he  pretended  to 
a  piety  which  his  dissolute  life  belied.  Im- 
agining that  a  mitre  in  his  family  would  aug- 
ment his  personal  consequence,  and  thereby 
conduce  to  his  further  aggrandisement,  he 
was  at  pains  to  possess  the  mind  of  Lord 
Aubigny  with  a  high  conceit  of  the  advan- 
tages that  would  ensue  from  appointing  a 
man  like  Robert  Leighton  to  nurse  the  criti- 
cal infancy  of  the  episcopal  church.  Charles, 
who  never  wanted  penetration,  was  not 
hard  to  be  persuaded  that  the  likeliest  way 
to  sooth  the  covenanters,  and  accredit  the 
meditated  innovation,  was  to  invest  with  the 
lawn  a  divine  of  such  superlative  merit,  so 
accomplished  in  learning,  and  so  beloved  for 
his  mild  and  saintlike  virtues.  This  would 
indeed  be  to  cloak  the  prelatic  wolf  in 
sheep's  clothing.  Entertaining  also  an  opin- 
ion, the  proper  spawn  of  a  mind  steeped  in 
profligacy,  that  every  man's  conscience  ac- 
commodates itself  to  his  interests,  he  never 
doubted  but  Leighton  might  be  wrought 
upon  by  his  brother  to  acquiesce  in  episco- 
pacy being  made  a  stalkinghorse  to  cover 
the  approaches  of  popery. 

On  this  he  probably  counted  with  the  great- 
er assurance  in  consecjuence  of  a  current  re- 
port, that  Leighton  was  ikh  unfriendly  to  some 
parts  of  the  pontifical  constitutions;  a  report 
which  seems  to  have  taken  its  rise  from  his 

Eaying  occasional  visits  to  the  college  at 
louay,  and  to  have  been  countenanced  by 
his  celibacy,  his  ascetic  habits,  and  an  admi- 
ration for  some  of  the  disci[)les  of  Jansenius, 
which  he  was  too  highiniiided  and  ingenuous 
to  dissemble.  It  was,  indeed,  more  than  in- 
sinuated, that  he  was  too  liberally  alleiUed 
toward  the  catholics  for  a  stanch  and  thor- 
ough proieslant ;  and  the  ctjrnmendaiions  he 
bestowed  on  the  works  of  Thomas  ;'i  Kempis 
in  his  public  lectures,  did  not  escape  severe 
animadversions.  To  attempt  a  serious  coii- 
fuiati(jn  of  this  slander  would  be  to  grap|)le 
with  a  shadow.  Leighton 's  writings  abound 
with  brief  but  decisive  refutations  of  those 
Roman  catholic  tenets,  which  it  was  the 
essence  of  the  reformation  to  abjure;  and 
their  whole  spirit  and  tenor  are  diametrically 
opposite  to  the  self-riglitecjus  formalities  and 
unscriptural  impositions,  which  are  inter- 
woven with  the  very  substance  of  that  adul- 
terous system.  So  long  as  the  current  of 
passion  bore  down,  with  undistinguishing 


fury  upon  whatever  was  suspected,  wheth- 
er in  doctrine  or  practice,  of  being  cor- 
nate  to  papistry,  it  was  worthy  of  his  be- 
nignant and  liberal  spirit  to  do  what  he 
could  toward  clearing  away  prejudices,  by 
which  the  mind  was  prevented  from  seeing 
clearly  to  eliminate  the  faults,  without  ex- 
cluding the  excellences  of  the  catholic  rit- 
ual. But  when  he  perceived  that  a  contrary 
and  more  dangerous  current  had  set  in  from 
the  English  xourt,  and  that  nothing  less  was 
designed  that  to  restore  to  the  Vatican  its 
ascendency,  he  then  exposed  the  deformity 
of  the  church  of  Rome  in  such  unsparing 
terms  as  nothing  but  a  deep  apprehension  of 
the  impending  evil  could  have  extorted  from 
a  man  of  his  forbearance  and  charity. 

Leighton  was  very  averse  from  his  own 
promotion  ;  and  in  his  nephew's  account  I 
find  him  stating,  that  his  reluctance  to  acqui- 
esce in  it  was  only  overcome  by  a  perempto- 
ry order  of  the  court,  requiring  him  to  accept 
it,  unless  he  thought  in  his  conscience  that 
the  episcopal  office  was  unlawful.  Unable 
to  screen  himself  behind  this  opinion,  which 
he  was  far  from  entertaining,  he  surrendered 
at  length  to  the  royal  instances,  that  he  might 
not  uicur  the  guilt  of  contumacy  toward  the 
king  ;  or  of  shrinking  from  a  service,  to 
which  a  greater  Potentate  seemed  to  summon 
him. 

Perhaps  this  transaction,  which  has  been 
thought  to  cast  a  shade  over  his  constancy 
and  disinterestedness,  may  appear  to  the  can- 
did and  intelligent  reasoner,  when  thoroughly 
sifted,  to  exliibit  tliose  qualities  with  singular 
lustre.  Taking  in  the  whole  system  of  his 
life  before  and  after  his  consecration,  we  see 
him  an  example  of  modesty,  gravity,  and  ha- 
bitual recollection  of  spirit;  a  despiser  of 
riches,  and  siiow,  and  figure,  and  sellish  in- 
dulgences ;  an  exile  in  heart  from  this  world 
of  sensible  objects  ;  one,  whose  prime  delight 
it  was  to  dwell  in  solitary  converse  with  his 
God,  and  with  the  things  that  are  invisible 
and  eternal.  To  suppose  that  a  man  of  this 
make  and  these  habits  was  carried  out  of 
himself  by  a  flush  of  ambition  or  vanity,  that 
precluded  all  due  consideratirth  of  the  man- 
I  iier  in  which  his  elevation  would  affect  his 
!  credit,  his  conscience,  and  liis  hajjpincss,  is 
to  suppose  a  pheniftni'non,  that  could  only  be 
made  credible  by  evidence,  which  in  thi:» 
case  is  totally  wanting.  Covetousncss  could 
never  be  laid  to  his  charge  without  a  con- 
tempt of  liistorical  testimony,  too  indecent 
for  his  keenest  enemies  to  venture  on.  When, 
moreover,  the  soundness  of  his  understand- 
ing, and  the  rigor  with  which  he  used  to 
canvass  his  own  conduct  and  motives,  are 
taken  into  the  account,  some  presumption 
that  he  acted  rightly,  under  all  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case,  in  takmg  this  jx'rilous 
step,  must  be  admitted  to  arise  from  his 
never  repenting  of  it  :  neitner  when  he  was 
laboriously  sowing  in  tears,  nor  when,  at  the 
sad  conclusion  of  his  episcopal  labors,  he 


.c 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


reapfti  a  jilcntiful  harvest  of  obloquy,  disap- 
jioiuiiii.'ni,  ami  sorrow.  Not  loiia;  after  his 
advai.coiiient,  when  some  of  his  former 
frieiivis  upbraiik'ii  him  with  his  ilerelictiou  of 
his  fatiier'a  principles,  coiitumeliously  term- 
ing it  apostacy,  he  calmly  answered  that  no 
man  was  bouiul  to  he  of  his  father's  opinions  '; 
and  whenever  he  was  challens^ed  to  vindicate 
theohnoxious  step  he  had  taken,  he  manifest- 
ed a  Irankness  and  good  humor,  which  could 
not  have  subsisted  on  any  terms  with  an  of- 
fended conscience.  . 

What  then  remains  but  to  believe  that  this 
transaction  was  in  strict  accordance  with  his 
magnanimous  character  ?  that  it  was  an  act 
of  self-immolation  at  the  altar  of  Christian 
love  ;  a  deliberate  surrender  of  his  constant 
inclinations,  and  of  present  ease  and  quiet, 
to  the  exigencies  of  the  church,  for  whose 
sake  he  accounted  no  affliction  too  severe,  no 
service  too  laborious,  no  sacrifice  too  costly  ? 
Fortunately  there  is  a  letter  preserved,  writ- 
ten at  the  time  he  was  in  suspense  about 
accepting  a  bishopric,  in  which  he  discloses, 
with  touching  ingenuity  and  pathos,  the 
•workings  of  his  holy  soul.  I  here  insert  it 
as  a  document  of  great  interest,  throwing 
liffht  on  this  part  of  our  history,  and  beauti- 
fully illustrating  the  conflict  of  his  mind,  be- 
fore it  was  subdued  to  this  great  effort  of  duty. 

The  letter  is  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  James  Aird, 
minister  at  Torry. 

"Mt  Dear  Friend  :  I  have  received  from 
you  the  kindest  letter  that  ever  you  writ  me; 
and  that  you  may  know  I  take  it  so,  I  return 
you  the  free  and  friendly  advice,  never  to 
judge  any  man  before  you  hear  him,  nor  any 
business  by  one  side  of  it.  Were  you  here 
to  see  the  other,  I  am  confident  your  tbouirhts 
and  mine  would  be  the  same.  You  have 
both  loo  much  knowledge  of  me,  and  too 
much  charity  to  think,  that  either  such  little 
contemptible  scraps  of  honor  or  riches  sought 
in  that  part  of  the  world  with  so  much  re- 
proach, or  any  human  complacency  in  the 
world,  will  be  admitted  to  decide  so  grave  a 
question,  or  that  I  would  sell  (to  speak  no 
higher)  the  vpry  sensual  pleasure  of  mv  re- 
tirement for  a  rattle,  far  less  deliberately  do 
anything  that  I  judge  offends  God.  For  the 
offence  of  good  people  in  cases  indifferent  in 
themselves,  but  not  accounted  so  by  them, 
whatsoever  you  do  or  do  not,  you  shall  offend 
some  good  people  on  the  one  side  or  other  ; 
and  for  those  with  you,  the  great  fallacy  in 
this  business  is,  that  they  have  misreckoned 
themselves  in  taking  my  silence  and  their 
zeals  to  have  been  consent  and  participation  ; 
which,  how  jreat  a  mistake  it  is,  few  know 
better  or  so  well  as  yourself.  And  the  truth 
is,  I  did  see  approaching  an  inevitable  neces- 
sity to  strain  with  them  in  divers  practices, 
in  v/iiat  station  soever  remaining  in  Britain  : 
and  to  have  escaped  further  off  (which  hath 
been  in  my  thoughts)  would  have  been  the 
greatest  scandal  of  all.    And  what  will  you 


say  if  there  be  in  this  thing  somewhat  of 
that  y  ou  mention,  and  would  allow  of  reccn« 
ciling  the  devout  on  different  sides,  and  of 
enlarging  those  good  souls  you  meet  with 
from  their  little  fetters,  though  possibly  with 
little  success?  Yet  the  design  is  commenda- 
ble, pardonable  at  least.  However,  one  com- 
fort I  have,  that  in  what  is  pressed  on  me 
there  is  the  least  of  my  own  choice,  yea  on 
the  contrary  the  strongest  aversion  that  ever 
I  had  to  anything  in  all  my  life  :  the  difficul- 
ty in  short  lies  in  a  necessity  of  either  own- 
ing a  scruple  which  I  have  not,  or  the  rudest* 
disobedience  to  authority  that  may  be.  The 
truth  is,  I  am  yet  importuning  and  struggling 
for  a  liberation,  and  look  upward  for  it  :  but 
Avhatsoever  be  the  issue,  I  look  beyond  it, 
and  this  weary,  weary,  wretched  life  through 
which  the  hand  I  have  resigned  to  I  trust 
will  lead  me  in  the  path  of  his  own  choosing  ; 
and  so  I  may  please  him  I  am  satisfied.  I 
hope  if  ever  we  meet  you  shall  find  me  in 
the  love  of  solitude  and  a  devout  life, 

"  Your  unaltered  Brother  and  Friend, 
"  R.  L. 

"  When  I  set  pen  to  paper,  I  intended  not  to 
exceed  half  a  dozen  lines,  but  slid  on  insensi- 
bly thus  far :  but  though  I  should  fill  the  pa- 
per on  all  sides,  still  the  right  view  of  this 
business  would  be  necessarily  suspended  till 
meeting.  Meanwhile  hope  well  of  me,  and 
pray  for  me.  This  word  I  will  add,  that  as 
there  has  been  nothing  of  my  choice  in  the 
thing,  so  I  undergo  it,  if  it  must  be,  as  a 
mortification,  and  that  greater  than  a  cell 
and  hair-cloih  :  and  whether  any  will  be- 
lieve this  or  no  I  am  not  careful." 

It  is  surely  no  discredit  to  his  sagacity, 
that  he  once  conceived  a  hope  to  which  he 
alludes  in  his  letter,  of  bringing  the  episco- 
palians and  presbyterians  to  coalesce  oii  the 
basis  of  reciprocal  concession.  That  hope 
will  not  be  accounted  the  less  rational  for 
being  feeble:  but  in  proportion  to  its  feeble- 
ness, if  it  were  not  altogether  visionary,  does 
the  value  rise  of  the  sacrifices  he  made  to 
realize  it ;  for  the  dignity  of  its  object  none 
will  dispute.  Had  it  been  possible  for  human 
virtue  to  have  prevented  the  bloody  discord, 
which  shortly  c^crcnst  the  spiritual  firma- 
ment, and  rent  the  Scottish  church  like  an 
earthquake,  Leighton  could  not  have  failed. 
To  a  temper,  in  which  Burnet  never  btit 
once  saw  a  ruffle,  during  a  close  familiarity 
of  twenty-two  years'  standing,  and  under 
every  variety  of  provocation,  and  to  an  ad- 
dress in  dealing  with  perverse  and  factious 
spirits,  which  his  adversaries  admit  while 
disparaging  it  with  unhandsome  epithets,  he 
joined  such  extreme  moderation  of  sentiment 
on  the  points  at  issue  between  the  two  church- 
es, as  peculiarly  fitted  him  to  stand  in  the 
gap,  the  an^el  of  reconciliation  and  concord 
It  is  true,  indeed,  that  success  has  rarely  fol- 
lowed attempts  to  restore  compactness  tc 
a  religious  body,  after  once  it  has  beet 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


17 


nolently  divided.  For  the  most  part  the 
cure  of  religious  dissensions  is  unhopeful,  in 
proportion  as  the  ground  of  them  is  trivial : 
because  the  difficulty  of  allaying  the  pas- 
sions of  men  corresponds  with  the  degree  in 
which  they  are  wedded  to  creatures  of  the 
imagination.  As  the  contest  goes  on,  the 
objects  of  contention  gain  importance  in  the 
eyes  of  the  combatants  ;  and  minute  differ- 
ences expand  into  gulfs  which  separate  salva- 
tion from  perditiogl'the  rather  perhaps  for 
the  conscience  being  honest  where  the  mind 
is  not  adequately  enlightened.  No  violent 
measures,  no  compendious  process,  can  bring 
about  a  cordial  union  of  bodies  of  men,  disu- 
nited in  matters  of  conscience.  Yet,  let 
time  be  allowed  for  factions  to  disband  and 
irritations  to  abate  ;  let  proper  measures  be 
pursued  for  preventing  untoward  collisions, 
and  for  bringing  those  who  are  jealous  of 
each  other  into  contact  at  points,  in  which 
a  mutual  attraction  will  be  developed  :  and 
it  may  happen  that,  uniting  in  affection  one 
to  another,  tliey  will  at  length  agree  together 
in  mind  and  opinion  ;  or,  at  least  their  spec- 
ulative differences  will  cease  to  create  bane- 
ful and  scandalous  schisms. 

Leighton  doubtless  hoped  that,  by  a  mild 
and  temperate  exercise  of  his  episcopal  ju- 
risdiction, he  should  propitiate  most  of  the 
covenanters,  whose  hostility  to  moderate 
episcopacy  he  might  suppose  to  be  relenting 
from  the  avowed  desire  for  it  of  the  synod 
of  Aberdeen,  and  from  the  apparent  confor- 
mity of  two  thirds  of  the  ministers.  The  re- 
establishment  of  the  ancient  monarchy,  an 
event  so  grateful  to  patriots  of  both  persua- 
sions, he  considered  a  favorable  crisis  for 
"causing  contentions  to  cease,"  and  for 
drowning  private  grudges  and  public  feuds 
in  an  ocean  of  Christian  love  and  universal 
prosperity.  He  might  hope,  moreover,  that 
by  his  personal  influence  with  the  king,  to 
whom  his  brother's  situation  at  court  would 
facilitate  his  access,  he  should  be  able  to 
keep  in  check  the  violent  partisans  of  prela- 
cy, and  to  curb  that  headlong  precipitance 
of  innovation,  of  which  some  portentous 
symptoms  had  already  appeared  in  the  royal 
councils.  In  the  latter  objects  he  did  not 
entirely  fail :  for  he  effectually  shielded  the 
nonconformists  in  his  own  diocess  from  mol- 
estation :  and  more  than  once,  as  we  shall 
see  hereafter,  he  converted  the  king  to  mod- 
erate measures  by  his  faithful  and  fearless 
representations.  His  attempts  to  soften  the 
prejudices  of  his  own  countrymen,  and  to 
effect  a  conjunction  of  the  two  churches  did, 
it  is  true,  miscarry.  But  it  will  appear  in 
the  sequel  of  this  history,  that  the  failure 
does  not  lie  with  the  bishop,  who  exhibited 
throughout  that  arduous  transaction  an  illus- 
trious specimen  of  Christian  diplomacy,  and 
whose  character  came  forth  from  it,  as  pure 
gold  seven  t?mes  tried  in  the  furnace. 

There  is  one  particular  of  Leighton's  con- 
du<Tt  in  this  perplexing  business,  which  is 


I  open  to  just  exception.  T  allude  to  his  re- 
ceiving the  orders,  first  of  deacon,  and  tlien 
of  priest,  from  the  English  bishops,  previ- 
ously to  his  consecration.  Sheldon,  bishop 
of  London,  insisted  on  Sharp  and  Leighton 
being  re-ordained,  on  the  plea  tliat  their 
presbyterian  ordination  was  void  from  the  ■ 
beginning,  it-  having  been  conferred  by  a 
church  actually  in  a  state  of  schism,  which 
vitiated  all  its  acts  of  administration.  Leigh- 
ton denied  the  soundness  of  this  objection  to 
tne  validity  of  his  ministry.  Yet  being  lit- 
tle scrupulous,  loo  little  indeed,  about  the 
circumstantials  of  ecclesiastical  polity,  he 
yielded  to  Sheldon's  demand  with  a  readi- 
ness, which  the  repugnance  evinced  to  it 
by  Sharp  made  the  more  observable.  The 
view  he  took  of  the  ceremony  imposed  upon 
them  was,  "  the  re-ordaining  a  priest  or- 
dained in  another  church  imported  no  more, 
but  that  they  received  him  into  orders  ac- 
cording to  their  own  rules  ;  and  did  not  infer 
the  annulling  the  orders  he  had  formerly  re- 
ceived." Had  the  English  bishops  concur- 
red in  this  explanation,  Leighton  would  have 
stood  on  solid  ground  in  submitting  to  a  new 
ordination.  But  instead  of  concurring  in  it, 
their  avowed  meaning  was  to  bestow  that 
upon  him,  of  which  in  their  judgment  he 
was  hitherto  destitute — a  regular  consecra- 
tion to  the  ministry  of  the  gospel ;  and  in 
this  meaning  Leighton  did  to  outward  ap- 
pearance acquiesce.  His  private  construc- 
tion of  the  act,  to  which  he  submitted, 
could  not  change  his  public  asjiect  and  char- 
acter. It  seemed  levelled  at  the  foundations 
of  presbytery,  by  impeaching  the  legitimacy 
of  all  presbyterian  ministers,  who  had  re- 
ceived holy  orders  after  episcopacy  was  le- 
gally resettled  in  Scotland  by  King  James ; 
and  of  course  it  exasperated  the  clergy,  who 
were  in  that  predicament,  and  also  the  laity, 
who  thought  the  honor  and  interest  of  their 
church  were  compromised  by  Leighton's  con- 
cession. 

It  was  the  duty  of  a  faithful  historian  to 
avow,  that  Leighton  did  not  not,  in  this  in- 
stance, sufficiently  consider  the  ill  impression 
his  compliance  would  produce  on  mankind, 
and  how  much  it  might  weaken  his  influ- 
ence, by  bringing  him  nearer  in  puldic  esti- 
mation, than  had  been  supi)osed  possible,  to 
the  level  of  mere  worldly  calculators.  Yet 
assuredly  the  real  spring  of  his  conduct  in 
this  affair  was  a  high-toned  spirituality, 
which  made  him  overlook  the  importance 
attached  by  vulgar  opinion  to  the  outside 
frame  and  fasliion  of  religion.  For  on  arnr 
point  which  seemed  to  touch  the  substance 
of  Christian  piety,  he  was  exquisitely  sensi- 
ble. Hence  his  disgust  at  the  feasting  and 
jollity,  with  which  the  consecration  of  the 
new  bishops  was  celebrated.  It  grieved  this 
excellentman,  toseeanythingof  sensual  levity 
mixed  up  with  the  solemn  business  to  which, 
they  were  set  apart ;  and  the  absence  of  that 
seriousness  and  spirit  of  prayer,  which  be» 


.8 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


came  the  rommonceincnt  of  siicli  an  uiuler- 
liikiii<j  as  tliL-  new  nioJi'Uing  of  a  church,  op- 
nrcsscd  his  niiiui  with  tjlooniy  jirpsasics. 
These  were  increased,  when  he  fomul  Arch- 
bisliop  Sharp  tinjjrepared  with  any  plan  fur 
healing  the  wminds  of  the  ciiurch,  for  pur- 
gin<^  out  its  corrui)tions,  for  rectifyina;  its 
disorders,  and  for  kindling  in  it  a  livelier 
flume  of  true  piety.  On  these  great  objects 
Leighitm  was  anxious  to  begin  without  de- 
lay ;  and  already  he  had  conceived  a  prt)- 
cess  for  the  union  of  parties  in  Scotland,  and 
for  reforming  the  public  services  of  religion, 
and  reducing  them  to  a  method  more  orderly 
and  better  adapted  to  general  edification. 
But  in  these  Christian  projects  he  found  no 
auxiliaries.  With  Shar]),  the  establishment 
of  an  hierarchy,  with  himself  at  the  head, 
appears  to  have  been  the  ultimate  object  ; 
and  he  was  neither  able  to  miderstand  the 
spirit,  nor  disposed  to  forward  the  schemes 
of  Leighton,  of  whose  influence  with  Lau- 
derdale he  had  begun  to  conceive  a  jealousy, 
and  to  whose  pious  disinterestedness  the 
worldliness  of  his  colleagues  stood  in  dis- 
gracei'ul  contrast.  Leighlon's  sad  forebodings 
were  not  a  little  confirmed  by  a  close  obser- 
vation of  Sharp's  real  character,  and  by  the 
clearer  development,  that  was  daily  taking 
place,  of  the  principles  which  actuated  the 
episcopalian  leaders.  In  the  supercilious 
recklessness  of  the  infant  hierarchy  he  des- 
cried the  sure  omen  of  its  downfall ;  and  he 
remarked  to  Burnet  that,  "  in  the  whole 
progress  of  that  affair,  there  appeared  such 
cross  characters  of  an  angry  Providence, 
that  how  iully  soever  he  was  satisfied  in  his 
own  mind  as  to  episcopacy  itself,  yet  it 
seemed  that  God  was  against  them,  and  that 
they  w^ere  not  like  to  be  the  men  that  should 
buiid  up  his  church  ,  so  that  the  struggling 
about  it  seemed  to  him  like  a  fighting  against 
God." 

On  the  12th  of  December,  1661,  four  of  the 
persons  fixed  upon  to  commence  the  episco- 
pal dynasty  of  Scotland  received  consecra- 
tion in  London.  Leighton  being  ajipointed, 
at  his  sj)ecial  request,  to  the  inconsiderable 
see  of  Dunblane,  in  Perthshire.  Early  in 
the  following  year,  the  new  bishops  pro- 
ceeded in  one  coach  to  Edinburgh.  Between 
Leighton  and  his  colleagues,  however,  there 
was  such  a  want  of  sympathy,  as  made  it 
very  irksome  to  him  to  journey  in  their  com- 
pany ;  and  having  learned  that  it  was  jheir 
mtenlion  to  make  a  grand  entry  into  Edin- 
burgh, he  quiitetli  them  at  Morpeth,  and  ar- 
rived some  days  bt^fore  the  rest  of  the  party. 
Burnet  describes  himself  to  have  been  a 
downcast  spectator  of  the  pomp  and  parade 
with  which  the  other  three  bishops  were  es- 
corted into  the  Scottish  metropolis  ;  and  the 
spirit  of  wise  and  pious  men  was  abashed, 
when  they  contrasted  this  ostentatious  pa- 
geantry v/ith  the  example  of  that  true  Bishop 
of  souls,  who  made  his  last  solemn  entrance 
into  Jerusalem,  riding  upon  an  ass  and  weep- 


ing, as  if  unable  to  endure  llie  splendor  of  a 
triumph  which  prophecy  forbade  him  to  de- 
cline, unless  it  were  shaded  with  a  cloud  of 
humility  and  sadness. 

The  first  measures  taken  l)y  Sharp  and  his 
coadjutors,  if  the  i)liable  agents  of  his  cu- 
jiidity  deserve  to  be  so  named,  bore  fatal 
marks  of  that  perverse  genius  by  which  ihey 
were  conceived.  Instead  of  eiuleavoriiig  to 
break  in  the  restifl"  spirit  of  prcsby lerianisrr 
by  gentle  usage  and  gradual  loading,  wiih  a 
desperate  hand  he  at  once  buckled  on  the 
saddle,  and  laid  on  the  whole  weight  of  the 
episcopal  colossus.  In  pursuance  of  this  jjol- 
icy  it  was  enacted,  even  before  the  bishops 
left  London,  that  presbyteries  and  judicato- 
ries should  be  abolished.  This  imprudent 
decree  was  followed  up  by  an  act,  asserting 
tlie  king's  ecclesiastical  supremacy,  rein- 
stating the  bishojis  in  their  parliamenlary 
privileges  and  civil  dignities,  and  conferring 
on  them  an  exclusive  presidency  in  church 
meeiings,  the  power  of  ordination  and  of 
censure,  ■with  whatever  else  appertains  to 
the  administration  and  jurisdiciion  of  the 
church.  It  was  added.  Indeed,  that  in  the 
exercise  of  their  functions  they  were  to  ad- 
vise with  certain  loyal  and  prudent  clergy- 
men. Yet,  as  their  assessors  were  to  be  se- 
lected by  themselves,  and  were  not  empow- 
ered collectively  to  enforce  an  opinion  con- 
trary to  their  diocesan's,  it  is  clear  that  any 
check  they  could  maintain  on  the  despotism 
of  the  bench  would  be  of  small  account. 
All  real  authority  was  lodged  wiih  the  bish- 
op;  and  his  clerical  advisers  were  mere  ci-" 
phers,  to -whom  was  allotted  the  unenviable 
j)rivilLge  of  sharing  with  their  principal  the 
odium  of  arbitrary  proceedings,  which  they 
were  not  competent  either  to  prevent  or 
modify. 

Such  was  the  present  scheme  of  episco- 
pacy, widely  different  from  that  of  the  year 
1612,  when  the  bishops  afl'ected  nothing 
more  than  to  be  settled  presidents,  to  have  a 
negative  voice  in  all  questions  relating  to  ec- 
clesiastical jurisdiciion,  and  some  superior 
authority  in  ordination.  This  hasty  attempt 
to  force  on  a  people,  to  whom  presbytery 
was  dear  "as  a  wife  of  youth,"  the  highest 
kind  of  prelacy,  was  certainly  to  pour  new 
wine  into  old  bottles.  It  could  not  but  pro- 
duce a  disastrous  explosion.  But  nothing 
could  stay  the  precipitance  of  that  misguided 
man,  who  seems  to  have  expected,  m  the 
pride  of  his  new-blown  grandeur,  that  diffi- 
culties would  vanish  at  his  touch.  He  did 
not,  it  is  allowed,  ever  carry  his  episcopal 
powers  to  the  full  extent  permitted  by  this 
act  of  parliament.  Still  the  passing  of  such 
an  act  furnished  those  who  refused  the  new 
model  with  a  plausible  justification  ;  and  ex 
hibitcd  the  capital  solecism  in  policy,  of  ma- 
king a  legislative  invasion  of  the  p(j]iular 
rights  and  feelings  more  considerable  in  the 
terms  of  the  enactment  than  it  vvas  really 
meant  to  be  in  the  execution. 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


1» 


In  his  fixed  aversion  to  worldly  honors, 
Leightoa  besought  his  friends  not  to  give 
liim  the  appellation  of  Lord,  and  was  uneasy 
at  ever  being  addressed  by  that  title.  By 
this  singularity  he  gave  umbrage  to  his  col- 
leagues, and  laid  himself  open  to  the  charge 
of  an  affectation,  proceeding  from  narrow- 
minded  squeamishness,  if  not  from  a  refine- 
ment of  vanity  :  or,  indeed,  this  solicitude  to 
divest  his  office  of  its  usual  dignities  might 
be  ill-naturedly  ascribed  to  his  not  being 
thoroughly  satisfied  with  the  function  itself, 
and  seeking  to  compound  with  his  conscience 
by  a  sacrifice  of  external  distinction. 

Shortly  after  their  arrival  in  Edinburgh, 
the  bishops  were  formally  invited  to  take 
their  seats  in  parliament ;  not  that  any  invi- 
tation was  requisite  to  authorize  their  a 
tendance,  but  it  was  deemed  a  proper  token 
of  respect.  By  all,  except  the  Bishop  of 
Dunblane,  the  call  was  obeyed.  He  re- 
solved from  the  beginning  never  to  mix  in 
parliament,  unless  some  matter  affecting  the 
interests  of  religion  were  in  agitation  ;  and 
lo  this  resolution  he  steadily  adhered. 

His  first  appearance  in  parliament  was  on 
the  question  respecting  the  oath  of  suprem- 
acy. This  oath  was  so  worded  as  to  carry 
on  the  face  of  it  no  demand,  beyond  what 
the  presbyterians  were  willing  to  admit, 
namely,  that  the  king  should  be  recognised 
for  the  civil  head  of  the  church  as  well  as 
of  the  state.  Yet  there  was  something  in 
the  phraseology  so  equivocal  as  to  warrant  a 
suspicion,  that  it  was  artfully  contrived  for 
a  handle  by  which  the  sovereign  might  in- 
terfere, at  pleasure,  and  with  absolute  au- 
thority, in  the  internal  regulation  of  the 
church.    In  England  such  explanations  were 

fiven,  when  the  oath  was  tendered,  as 
rought  it  within  the  compass  of  a  presby- 
terian  conscience.  But  when  it  was  required 
by  the  Earl  of  Cassilis,  and  by  other  stout 
covenanters  in  the  parliament  of  Scotland, 
that  the  necessary  qualification  for  reconciling 
its  provisions  to  their  scruples  should  be  in- 
serted into  the  body  of  the  act,  or,  at  least, 
be  subjoined  to  their  subscriptions,  the  High 
Commissioner  would  not  listen  to  the  de- 
mand. Leighton  now  stepped  forward,  tiie 
Itarless  champion,  the  eloquent  advocate  of 
moderation  and  charity.  He  maintained  tiiat 
trammeling  men's  consciences  with  s'o  many 
rigorous  oaths  could  only  produce  laxity  of 
moral  principle,  or  unchristian  bigotry  and 
party  feeling.  With  respect  to  the  oath 
itself,  he  would  not  dissemble  his  opinion 
that  it  was  susceptible  of  a  bad  sense ; 
and,  therefore,  the  tenderness  of  conscience, 
which  refused  to  take  it  without  guarding 
against  an  evil  construction,  ouglit  not  to  be 
derided.  The  English  papists  had  obtained 
this  indulgence  :  and  it  was  strange  indeed 
if  prolestants  were  to  be  more  hardly  dealt 
by.  When,  in  reply  to  this  spirited  remon- 
strance. It  was  contended  1)V  Sharp,  that  the 
complaining  party,  in  the  days  of  its  ascen- 


dency, had  been  little  tender  ol  l.ie  con- 
sciences of  those  who  revolted  at  the  Sol 
emn  League  and  Covenant,  Leighton  ex- 
claimed at  the  unworthiness  of  retaliating  by 
measures  which  had  been  so  justly  repro- 
bated ;  and  he  empliatically  pointed  out  the 
nobler  course  of  heaping  coals  upon  the 
heads  of  adversaries,  by  tne  contrast  of  epis- 
copal mildness  with  presbyterian  severity. 
For  them  to  practise,  for  the  base  purpose  of 
quitting  scores,  the  same  rigor  against  which 
they  had  vehemently  protested  when  them- 
selves were  the  victims  of  it,  would  be  a  foul 
blot  on  their  Christian  character,  and  would 
justify  the  sarcasm,  that  the  ivorld  ^oes  mad 
bi/  turns.    However  solid  these  arguments 

j  were,  they  made  no  impression  on  the  Earl 
3f  Middleton  and  his  creatures,  whose  pro- 
ject it  was  to  have  the  oath  of  that  ambig- 

[  uous  cast,  which  should  deter  the  stiffer 
covenanters  from  taking  it,  who  would  there- 
by become  liable  to  the  penalties  of  disloy- 
alty. One  can  not  without  pain  admit  an 
opinion  that  bears  so  hard  upon  the  probity 

I  and  humanity  of  the  royal  party.  Yet  this 
is  not  a  solitary  instance  of  an  oath  being 
artfully  sha[)ed  to  entrap  persons,  whom  state 
policy  has  marked  for  its  victims.  Leighton 
used  to  observe,  with  some   reference  no 

i  doubt  to  this  transaction,  that  a  consolidation 
of  the  episcopal  and  presbyterian  platforms, 
had  it  been  judiciously  and  sincerely  at- 
tempted at  the  outset,  might  have  been  ac- 
complished ;  but  there  were  some  evil  spirits 
at  work,  "  whose  device  it  was  plainly  agaia 
to  scatter  us:  and  the  terms  of  coiiiprehen- 

!  sion  were  made  so  strait,  in  order  to  keep 

I  men  out."  It  was  a  transaction,  however, 
that  gave  an  illustrious  prominence  to  his 
own  extraordinary  virtues,  to  his  enligiitened 
charity,  his  inexorable  honesty,  and  iiis  gen- 
erous courage. 

1  Leighton  thought  with  St.  Auguslin,  that 
a  bishojjric  is  not  intended  for  pastime  and 
amusement:  "  Episcopalus  non  est  arlijicium 
Iransigendtc  vitm.  He  therefore  resided  con- 
stantly on  his  see,  and  his  holy  ministrations 
watered  the  places  about  him  with  a  blessing. 
Not  content  to  repose  in  lazy  state,  he  regard- 
ed himself  as  a  she|)luTd  of  souls,  and  went 
about  from  parish  lo  parish  catechising  and 
])reacliing.  But  his  primary  aim  was  to  heal 
the  fountains  :  for  he  justly  considered  that  if 
ministers  were  to  becotne  sound  in  doctrine, 
exemplary  in  personal  conduct,  and  sedulous 
in  pastoral  duties,  the  fruits  of  their  spiritual- 
ity and  zeal  would  quickly  appear  in  the 
amended  state  of  iheir  parishes.  It  woula 
be  difficult  to  do  justice  to  the  sense  he  en- 
tertained of  the  immense  responsil)ility  of 
Christian  ministers.  For  himself,  as  his  |)rac- 
lice  bears  witness,  he  always  desired  the 
smallest  cure  ;  partly  from  native  humility, 
and  partly  from  an  a|)[)r('hension,  so  lively  as 
to.  be  almost  terrible,  of  the  account  which 
must  be  given  in  by  s[)iriiual  overseers  at  lli«» 
great  tribunal.  Often  would  he  commiserai* 


10 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


those  of  the  London  clergy  the  extent  of 
whose  cures  made  it  ini|)racticable  to  pay 
each  individual  of  their  Hock  the  atientiou 
his  soul  required.  "  Theirs,"  he  observed, 
"is  ricclitly  called  nira  anunarum  ;"  a  con- 
cern, he  seems  to  have  meant,  full  of  anxiety 
and  peril.  "Were  I  again,"  he  said  in  his 
last  reiirement,  "  to  be  a  parish  minister,  I 
must  follow  sinners  to  their  houses,  and  even 
to  their  alehouses."  As  one  of  the  faults  im- 
puted to  the  episcopal  clergy  was  unskilful- 
ness  in  preaching,  he  was  solicitous  to  re- 
move from  his  own  diocess  all  color  for  this 
aliesatiou.  This  he  knew  could  never  be 
elfected  until  the  pulpits  were  tilled  by  holy 
men.  "  It  is  vain,"  he  would  say,  "  for  any 
one  to  speak  of  divine  things,  without  some- 
thing of  divine  affections.  An  ungodly  cler- 
gyman must  feel  uneasy  when  preaching 
godliness,  and  will  hardly  j)reach  it  persua- 
sively. He  has  not  been  able  to  prevail  on 
himself  to  be  holy,  and  no  marvel  if  he  fail 
of  prevailing  on  others.  In  truth,  he  is  in 
great  danger  of  being  hardened  against  re- 
ligion by  the  frequent  inculcation  of  it,  if  it 
fail  of  melting  him." 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter,  in 
which  he  ofl'ers  a  living  to  one  of  his  clergy, 
aflbrds  a  beautiful  specimen  of  Christian  po- 
liteness, at  the  same  time  that  it  lets  us  into 
the  bishop's  sense  of  the  temper  and  affec- 
tion with  which  a  charge  of  souls  should  be 
undertaken : — 

"  Sir  :  There  is  one  place  indeed  in  my 
precinct  now  vacant,  and  yet  undisposed  of, 
by  ihe  voluntary  removal  of  the  young  man 
who  was  in  it  to  a  better  benefice  ;  and  this 
IS  likewise  in  my  hand,  but  it  is  of  so  wretch- 
edly mean  provision,  that  I  am  ashamed  to 
name  it,  little  I  think  above  five  hundred 
marks  [less  than  30/.  slerlinsr]  by  year.  If 
the  many  instances  of  that  kind  you  have 
read  have  made  you  in  love  with  volunlury 
■poverty,  there  you  may  have  it  ;  but  where- 
soever you  are,  or  shall  be,  for  the  little  rest 
of  your  time,  I  hope  you  are,  and  still  will 
be,  daily  advancing  in  that  blest  poverty  of 
spirit  that  is  the  only  true  height  and  great- 
ness of  spirit  in  all  the  world,  entitling  to  a 
crown,  'for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.' 
Oh,  what  are  the  scraps  that  the  great  ones 
of  this  world  are  scrambling  for  compared 
with  that  pretension  !  I  pray  you,  as  you 
find  an  opportunity,  though  possibly  little  or 
no  inclination  to  it,  yet  bestow  one  line  or 
two  upon 

"  Your  poor  friend  and  servant,  "  R.  L." 

The  following  letter  to  the  heritors*  of  the 
parish  of  Stratton,  places  in  a  clear  light  the 
upright  yet  sagacious  policy  by  which  Leigh- 
Ion  iTianaged  to  fill  the  vacant  benefices  with 
pious  men,  and  to  conciliate  the  goodwill  of 
the  parishioners  to  their  new  pastors. 

•  The  heritors  of  a  parish  are  the  owners  of  the 
real  property  within  it. 


"Worthy  Gf.ntlejien  and  Frienhs:  Be- 
ing informed  that  it  is  my  duty  to  presc  li  a 
person,  fit  lor  the  charge  of  the  ministry  now 
vacant  with  you,  I  have  thought  of  one  whose 
integrity  anil  piety  I  am  so  fully  ])ersuaded 
of,  that  I  dare  confideiuly  recommend  him  to 
you,  as  one  who,  if  the  hand  of  (iod  do  bind 
that  work  ujton  him  among  you,  is  likely 
through  the  blessing  of  the  same  hand,  to  b« 
verv  serviceable  to  the  building  up  of  your 
souls  heavenward  ;  but  is  as  far  I'rom  suffer- 
ing himself  to  t)e  obtruded,  as  I  am  from  ob 
truding  any  upon  you  ;  so  that  unless  you  in 
vite  him  to  preach,  and  after  hearing  him, 
declare  your  consent  and  desire  toward  his 
embracing  of  the  call,  you  may  be  secure 
from  the  trouble  of  hearing  any  further  con- 
cerning him,  either  from  himself  or  me  ;  and 
if  you  please  to  let  me  knoAV  your  mind, 
your  reasonable  satisfaction  shall  be  to  my 
utmost  power  endeavored  by 

"  Your  affectionate  friend 

"And  humble  servant, 

"R.  Leighton." 

The  charges  of  this  venerable  prelate  to 
the  clergy  of  the  diocesan  synod  of  Dunblane 
are  valuable  and  interesting  records,  as  well 
on  account  of  the  sterling  good  sense  and 
piety  with  which  they  abound,  as  of  the  light 
they  shed  on  his  professional  character  and 
deportment.  From  the  instructions,  which 
he  found  it  necessary  to  issue  in  the  year  of 
his  inauguration,  it  may  be  inferred  that  the 
district  over  which  he  presided  had  not  made 
much  proficiency  in  godliness  under  presby- 
terian  pedagogy.  He  prescribed  such  rules 
of  worship  and  discipline  as  were  indicated 
by  the  disorders  of  the  existing  system,  and 
were  adapted  to  correct  the  flagrant  im- 
moralities of  the  time  and  place.  Officiating 
ministers  Avere  directed  to  read  portions  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  not  after  the 
irreverent  manner  hitherto  in  vogue,  of  ma- 
king it  a  by  work  while  the  congregation  was 
assembling,  but  as  an  integral  and  important 
part  of  the  service.  It  was  the  bishop's 
wish,  that  the  Lord's  prayer,  the  Apostles' 
creed,  and  the  doxology,  should  be  restored 
to  more  frequent  use  ;  that  a  weekly  day 
should  be  appointed  for  catechising  ;  and  that 
an  easy  compendium  of  Christian  doctrine 
should  be  agreed  upon  by  his  clergy,  to  be 
made  the  basis  of  catechetical  instructions  to 
the  yoimg  and  the  ignorant.  Probably  the 
short  catechism  which  is  among  his  printed 
works,  was  composed  for  this  purpose.  The 
sermons  of  that  period  generally  ran  in  a 
high  strain  of  controversy.  Against  this  the 
bishop  set  his  face ;  and  he  labored  to  bring 
into  the  place  of  subtle  and  passionate  dis- 
putations, a  modest  and  sober  style  of  preach- 
ing, that  should  be  level  to  the  capacities 
and  calculated  to  mend  the  morals  of  the 
vulgar.  On  the  ignorance  and  viciousness 
of  the  people  in  general  he  touches  sorrow- 
fully ;  and  he  warns  his  clergy  against  slack- 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


21 


•ess  and  timidity  in  reproving  the  prevalent  I 
sins  of  their  respective  parishes.  Large  por- 
tions of  holy  scripture  were  preferred  by  him 
as  subjects  for  sermons,  to  single  texts  ;  for  he 
thought  they  offered  more  scope  for  pithy 
prsictical  remark,  and  were  better  calculated 
to  lay  hold  on  the  attention  of  the  auditory. 

Though  friendly  to  a  grave  and  masculine 
eloquence  of  which  he  was  himself  no  com- 
mon master,  yet  his  chief  desire  was,  that 
discourses  from  the  pulpit  should  be  simple  j 
and  perspicuous.  After  hearing  a  plain  and 
homely  sermon  he  expressed  the  highest 
satisfaction;  "For  the  good  man,"  said  he, 
in  reference  to  the  preacher,  "  seems  in  ear- 
nest to  catch  souls."  The  measure  of  speech, 
he  remarked,  and  it  is  a  remark  well  worthy 
of  being  preserved,  ought  to  be  the  character 
of  the  audience,  which  is  made  up  for  the 
most  part  of  illiterate  persons. 

Any  deliberate  opinion  of  this  gteat  man 
must  deserve  respect,  even  when  it  may  not 
command  acquiescence.  It  would,  therefore, 
be  wrong  to  omit  mentioning,  that  he  dis- 
liked the  practice  of  reading  sermons,  a  prac- 
tice scarcely  known  across  the  seas  ;  being  of 
opinion  that  it  detracted  much  from  the 
weight  and  authority  of  preaching.  "I  know 
[he  said]  that  weakness  of  the  memory  is 
pleaded  in  excuse  for  this  custom;  but  bet- 
ter minds  would  make  better  memories.  ! 
Such  an  excuse  is  unworthy  of  a  man,  and  i 
much  more  of  a  father,  who  may  Avant  vent 
indeed  in  addressing  his  children,  but  ought 
never  to  want  matter.  Like  Elihu,  he  should  : 
be  refreshed  by  speaking."  j 

Although  disposed  to  lenity,  he  was  not 
regardless  of  discipline.  Gross  offences  com- 
mitted in  his  diocess  were  to  be  branded  with 
church  censures;  and  the  restoration  of  of- 
fenders to  the  communion  of  the  church  was 
to  be  delayed  till  indubious  symploms  of  re- 
pentance had  shown  themselves.  j 

It  was  among  his  pious  plans  to  bring 
tbout  a  more  frequent  celebration  of  the 
'jord's  supper,  which,  in  those  days,  was  not 
n  every  place  so  much  as  an  annual  cere-  [ 
nony  ;  and  he  wished  the  peoj)lc  to  be  care- 
fully instructed  in  the  spiritual  import  of  this  , 
holy  rite,  and  to  be  frequently  exhorted  to 
maintain  a  constant  fitness  for  it  by  uniform 
blamelessness  of  conversation.  He  also  made 
it  incumbent  on  his  clergy  to  promote  the 
practice  of  family  worship,  and  to  exercise  a 
watchful  superintendence  over  their  flocks, 
bearing  the  spiritual  burdens  of  every  mem- 
ber, and  dealing  out  to  each,  as  his  case 
might  require,  instruction,  or  counsel,  or  re- 
proof, or  consolation. 

It  has  already  been  stated  how  careful  he 
was  to  put  his  clergy  in  remembrance  that  [ 
no  substantial  good  could  be  expected  from  ! 
their  ministrations,  unless  they  were  them- j 
selves  remarkable  for  sanctity' of  heart  and 
life;  men  of  prayer,  of  study,  and  medita- | 
tion  ;  of  "  sreat  contempt   of  this  ])resent 
World,  and  inflamed  affections  toward  hcav-  i 


en ;"  whose  pure  and  peaceable  demeanor, 
full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits,  should  stamp 
them  for  the  sons  of  God  and  servants  of  the 
meek  and  lowly  Jesus.  Moreover  he  con- 
sidered a  singular  modesty  and  gravity,  even 
in  externals,  such  as  their  apparel  and  the 
adjustment  of  their  hair,  to  be  highly  be- 
coming in  ministers,  whose  profession  it  was 
to  give  themselves  wholly  to  the  care  of  im- 
morlal  souls. 

Having  these  things  much  at  heart,  he 
gave  in  a  paper  at  the  synod  of  1667,  in 
Avhich,  after  a  most  conciliatory  introduction, 
and  blaming  himself  for  having,  through 
averseness  to  lord  it  over  Christ's  heritage, 
been  more  backward  to  advise  them  than 
perhaps  his  situation  demanded,  he  proceeds 
to  urge  the  importance  of  adding  life  and 
efficacy  to  those  "  privy  trials,"  in  which  the 
presbyters  used  to  examine  each  other  for 
mutual  correction  and  edification.  This  pro- 
cess, he  is  satified,  might  be  made  exceed- 
ingly salutary  to  those  who  were  declining 
in  zeal  and  diligence,  were  entangled  in  doc- 
trinal errors,  or  were  in  any  way  swerving 
from  the  path  of  ministerial  duty  ;  provided 
they  were  so  conducted  as  to  constrain  a  man 
to  serious  reflection  upon  himself ;  and  with 
a  view  to  their  being  rendered  thus  useful, 
he  lays  down  some  admirable  rules,  which 
are  included  in  the  body  of  his  works. 

Let  it  here  be  noticed  how  remote  this 
holy  man  is  from  an  imperious  and  domineer- 
ing exercise  of  his  authority.  Instead  of  ex- 
acting submission  from  his  clergy  by  per- 
emptoriness  and  menaces,  he  industriously 
waives  the  superior  character  of  a  bishop, 
and  bespeaks  their  obedience  by  urbanity  and 
gentleness.  It  is  asserted  by  Wodrow  and 
others,  that  the  clergy  of  Dunblane  were  no- 
toriously ignorant  and  disorderly.  I  have 
met  with  nothing  to  corroborate  this  heavy 
charge  ;  and  from  their  diocesan's  pastoral 
letters  and  addresses  it  is  rather  to  be  infer- 
red that  their  defects  have  been  overstated, 
or  else  were  greatly  corrected  during  his  ad- 
ministration. He  seems  to  have  judged  it 
expedient  to  raise  them  as  nearly  to  a  level 
with  himself,  as  the  indispensable  dignity 
of  episcopal  government  would  allow  ;  and 
whatever  alterations  he  thought  necessary 
Were  proposed  in  the  shape  of  friendly  sug- 
gestion, and  not  of  overbearing  dictation. 
The  only  j)riority  he  sought  was  in  labors  ; 
the  only  ascendency  he  coveted  was  in  self 
denial  and  holiness;  and  in  these  respects  he 
had  few  competitors  for  pre-eminence. 

Proceeding  steadily  upon  these  principles, 
and  exerting  all  his  influence  to  impart  to 
others  the  same  fervency  of  spirit,  he  drew 
upon  himself  the  eyes  of  all  Scotland,  which 
gazed  with  amazement  at  his  briirht  and 
singular  virtues,  as  at  a  star  of  unrivalled 
brilliance  newly  added  to  the  sky.  Even  the 
presbyterians  were  softened  by  his  Christian 
urbanity  and  condescension,  and  were  con- 
strained to  admit  that  on  him  had  destended 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


a  diuliie  jxinion  of  the  apostnlic  spirit.  Had 
hi-i  ciilK'airueb!  in  iillice  been  Icin  to  him  in 
temper,  it  is  not  extravagant  to  believe  that 
the  attempt  to  restore  episcopacy  would  have 
had  a  more  prosperous  issue. 

As  there  is  no  record  of  Leighton  having 
taken  a  prominent  part  in  the  stitlernenl  of 
she  church,  duriui;  the  earlier  ))art  of  his 
'piscopacy,  we  may  assume  that  he  con  lined 
nimself  to  private  advice  and  expostulation: 
h(.>pinjT  liiat,  when  the  happy  results  of  his 
own  j)aciric  proceedings  sliould  be  visible, 
the  other  bishops  would  be  induced  to  follow 
in  his  track.  But  it  soon  became  apparent, 
that  the  plans  in  progress  for  extirpating^  the 
presbyterian  discipline  were  diametrically 
o[)posile  to  the  diciates  of  wisdom  and  mer- 
cy. I  find  him  expressnig  himself,  in  allu- 
sion no  doubt  to  the  leadine;  men  of  this  pe- 
riod, with  a  poiirnant  recnllection  of  the  self- 
ish craft  by  which  tliey  were  cfiaracteri/ed. 
Seeing  them  destitute  of  Christian  sim])licity 
and  singleness  of  purpose,  he  lost  all  heart 
about  the  issue  of  their  measures  :  and  desig- 
nated them,  in  spiritual  language,  empty 
vines  bringing  forth  fruit  unto  themselves. 
"  1  have  met  with  many  cunning  plotters," 
he  would  say,  "but  with  few  truly  honest 
and  skilful  undertakers.  Many  have  I  seen 
who  were  wi.se  and  great  as  to  this  world, 
but  of  such  as  are  willing  to  be  weak  that 
others  may  be  strong,  and  whose  only  aim  it 
IS  lo  promote  the  prosperity  of  Zion,  have  I 
not  Ibund  one  in  ten  thousand." 

Having  made  these  afBicting  discoveries, 
and  finding  all  his  efforts  to  put  tilings  in 
a  iietter  train   quite   ineffectual,  Leigh  Ion 
thought  he  should  be  justified  in  laying 
down  the  charge,  which  he  had  taken  up, 
not  as  a  dignity,  but  as  a  cross  and  burden. 
He  resolved,  however,  to  go  up  to  London  in 
the  first  instance,  and  to  lay  before  the  royal 
eye,  which  had  hitherto  been  deluded  with 
fallacious  representations,  a  faithful  picture 
of  the  distempered  and  convulsed  state  of 
Scotland.    Having   obtained   an  interview 
■\vith  Charles,  he  declared  that  the  severities 
practised  upon  objectors  to  the  new  establish- 
ment were  such  as  his  conscience  could  not 
justify,  even  for  the  sake  of  planting  Chris- 
tianity in  a  heathen  land  ;  and  much  less 
could  he  agree  to  them  for  an  end  so  com- 
paratively insignificant,  as  that  of  substiiu- 
ting  one  form  of  ' ecclesiastical  government  i 
for  another.    He  therefore  besought  permis-  ^ 
sion  to  resign  his  bishopric,  lest  by  retaining 
it  he  should  seem  to  be  a  partv  to  violences,  j 
at  which  his  principles  and  feelings  revolted.  ; 
His  majesty  professed  disapprobation  of  the 
manner  in  wliich  the  affairs  of  the  church 
were  administered  by  Sharp,  and  seemed 
touched  by  the  pathetic  arguments  of  the  vir-  ^ 
tuous  advocate  of  toleration.    He  pledged  i 
himself  to  stop  that  aj)plication  of  the  seen-  j 
lar  sword,  against  which  I>eighion  protested  ; - 
and  he  actually  annulled  the  ecclesiastical 
tonimission,  which  pretended  to  goad  dis-  | 


scnters  into  cotiformity  by  fine.-!  and  jails  anJ 
corporal  i)unishinenis.  But  he  would  no' 
bear  of  Leighton's  vacating  his  see  ;  and  the 
bishop  cense"ted  at  length  to  retain  it,  as  he 
could  not  be  unaware  that,  by  persisting  in 
his  ])urpose  of  retirement,  ne  would  throw 
away  every  chance  of  holding  the  king  to 
those  engagements,  into  which  he  had  just 
been  impelled  for  the  prosperity  of  the 
church. 

Leighton  had  so  fully  made  up  his  mind  to 
withdraw  at  this  lime  from  his  station,  that 
he  had  bidden  a  solemn  farewell  to  his  clergy 
before  his  departure  for  London.  After  wind- 
ing up  the  ri>gnlar  business  of  the  synod  in 
October,  16(55,  he  informed  them  that  there 
was  a  matter  which,  though  of  little  con- 
cern to  them  and  the  church,  he  still  thought 
it  his  duty  to  notify  to  them.  He  then 
announced  his  attention  of  retiring ;  and 
the  reasons  he  assigned  for  it  were,  the 
sense  he  entertained  of  his  own  unworthi- 
ness  to  sustain  so  high  an  ofiice,  and  his 
weariness  of  those  contentions,  which  had 
clothed  tne  household  of  God  in  mourning, 
and  seemed  to  be  rather  increasing  than 
abating.  "  For  myself,  brethren,  I  have  to 
thank  you  for  the  undeserved  respect  and 
kindness  which  I  have  all  along  experienced 
at  your  hands.  Let  me  entreat  your  good 
construction  of  the  poor  endeavors  I  have 
used  to  serve  you,  and  to  assist  you  in  pro- 
moting the  work  of  the  ministry  and  th 
j  great  designs  of  the  gospel.  If  in  anything 
whether  by  word  or  deed,  I  have  given  yo 
offence,  or  unnecessarily  pained  a  single  in- 
dividual among  you,  I  do  earnestly  and  hum- 
bly crave  forgiveness.  My  last  advice  to 
you  is,  that  you  continue  in  the  study  of 
peace  and  holiness,  and  grow  and  abound  in 
love  to  vour  great  Lord  and  Master,  and  to 
ihe  souls  for  which  he  died.  Finally,  breth- 
ren, farewell  ;  be  perfect,  be  of  good  com- 
fort, be  of  one  mind,  live  in  peace,  and  the 
God  of  peace  and  love  shall  be  with  you. 
Amen." 

About  two  years  afterward,  the  growin;p 
calamities  of  the  church  called  for  prom]>l 
and  vigorous  remedies.  It  was  decreed  by 
the  council,  that  all  incumbents  should  ob- 
tain presentation  from  the  patrons  and  epis- 
copal institution,  or  forthwith  resign  their 
benefices.  This  intemperate  act,  of  which 
the  credit  is  given  to  Bishop  Fairfowl,  occa- 
sioned all  at  once  a  great  number  of  vacan- 
cies, which  fit  and  able  men  were  not  at 
hand  to  supply.  Had  the  most  considerable 
of  the  nonconformist  ministers  been  gradu- 
ally and  quietly  sujierseded,  an  explosion  of 
popular  wrath  might  have  been  avoided, 
But  when,  in  addition  to  the  grievance  of  be- 
ing deprived  of  their  own  ministers,  the  con- 
gregations were  required  to  receive,  in  the 
room  of  these  revered  pastors,  men  whose 
morals  were  not  always  clear  of  reproach, 
and  who  were  mostly  ill-provided  with 
learning  and  piety  for  a  ministerial  charge, 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


23 


their  disgust  at  prelatical  innervations  settled 
into  a  ferocious  antipatliy  to  the  new  consti- 
tution of  the  church. 

It  was  the  misfortune  of  these  times, 
moreover,  that  owing  to  the  king's  dislike 
of  business,  and  his  immoral  levity,  the  gov- 
ernment took  its  tone  from  the  views  or 
vsrhiras  of  ihe  principal  minister  of  the  reiirn- 
ing  favorite  for  the  time  being  ;  and  public 
measures  were  in  perpetual  mutation.  There 
was  no  steady  hand,  endued  with  competent 
force  and  authority  to  prevent  the  most  bane- 
ful fluctuations  of  the  body  politic.  Not  that 
the  unsteadiness  of  the  helm  should  be  at- 
tributed to  the  monarch's  capriciousness  or 
supineness  alone.  It  proceeded,  in  part, 
from  the  difficulty  he  found  in  carrying  on  to- 
gether his  two  favorite  objects,  of  pulling 
down  presbyterianism,  and  building  up  po- 
pery :  it  being  hard  to  inflict  a  blow  upon 
the  former  without  wounding  the  latter  ;  or 
to  enact  laws  favorable  to  the  catholic  dis- 
senter, the  beneSt  of  which  should  not  ex- 
tend to  the  presbyterian.  Nothing,  however, 
could  be  more  adverse  to  the  settlement  of 
Scotch  affairs,  than  such  a  vacillating  ad- 
ministration. At  times,  the  bishops  were 
armed  with  almost  unlimited  powers  for  the 
subversion  of  presbytery  :  but  before  sutii- 
cient  space  had  been  allowed  for  the  success 
of  a  resolute  despotism,  if  despotic  measures 
could  have  succeeded,  their  powers  were 
abridged  ;  a  clog  was  put  on  their  career  of 
intolerance  ;  and  the  other  party,  from  being 
discouraged  and  enfeebled,  was  roused  to 
fresh  hope  and  resistance.  Then,  a  sudden 
recourse  to  arbitrary  measures  would  cut 
short  the  experiment  of  conciliation  ;  or  it 
would  be  tried  on  too  limited  and  partial  a 
scale  to  answer  any  olhcr  pur])ose,  than  that 
of  making  the  subsetiucnt  severities,  or  those 
which  were  all  the  wliile  going  forward  in 
Other  districts,  to  be  the  more  conspicuous 
and  gallin^f. 

Resuming  the  thread  of  our  narration,  we 
are  to  relate  the  proceedings  of  the  Bishop 
of  Dunblane,  in  the  year  1G07,  in  conjunction 
with  Lord  Tweedate,  who  possessed,  ac- 
cording to  Burnet's  estimate,  true  benevo- 
lence, with  much  ])olitical  talent  and  infor- 
mation, but  was  over-cautious  and  timid,  and 
too  prone  to  side  with  any  government. 
This  nobleman,  Avho  fortunately  had  the 
chief  confid(!nce  of  Lauderdale,  viewed  with 
an  achnig  heart  the  disorders  of  his  c(jU'itry, 
and  vigorously  applied  himself  to  heal  thein 
before  they  slu)uld  be  grown  incurable.  He 
saw  at  once  that  Leighton  was  the  proper 
man  to  be  at  the  head  of  the  ecclesiastical 
administration  ;*  and  indeed  it  was  high  time 

*  TUf.  followincf  extract  from  thn  history  of  Sent 
land  by  .Sir  (Jpor^o  M.icUonzii»,  wlio  was  a  loatlin" 
char-ictor  in  these  times,  anil  loril  advncale,  will  be 
appropriate  in  this  part  nl  our  narrative: — 

"  Tlie  debates  and  transactions  which  fell  in  at 
this  time  dis-;overed  very  innch  to  our  statesmen, 
how  far  each  »f  the  Tesent  clergy  stood  alfetted  to 


for  some  capable  man  to  be  fixed  ir.  that  sta- 
tion, since,  as  matters  now  went  on,  the  busi- 
ness of  the  church  constituted- more  than 
two  thirds  of  the  whole  business  of  the  state. 
Accordingly  he  spared  no  pains  to  engage 
Leighton 's  co-operation ;  and  in  order  to 
that  co-operaiion  being  made  more  etFec- 
tual,  he  let  slip  no  opportunity  of  impres- 
sing the  king  with  an  opinion  of  his  superla- 
tive merits,  and  of  his  competence  to  the 
chief  direction  of  ecclesiastical  affairs.  Had 
he  succeeded  in  this  project,  it  was  his  hope 
to  winnow  the  church,  by  degrees,  of  those 
vain  and  worthless  characters  with  which  it 
was  infested  ;  and  to  bring  in  a  set  of  men 
who  would  adorn  their  profession,  and  rec- 
ommend the  episcopal  frame  by  undeniable 
piety  and  talent.  How  far  Leighton  fell  in 
with  this  excellent  design,  as  it  concerned 
his  own  advancement,  is  not  related  :  but  he 
consented  to  undertake  another  fatiguing 
journey  to  London,  and  again  to  implore  the 
redress  of  those  grievances,  under  which  the 
church  was  wasting  away.  On  this  second 
visit,  he  had  two  audiences  of  Charles,  in 
which  he  fulfilled  the  duty  of  a  faithful  am- 
bassador. He  exposed  without  disguise  the 
distempered  state  of  the  realm,  and  showed 
how  those  diseases,  which  might  have  yield- 
ed to  gentle  and  seasonable  remedies,  had 
been  exasperated  by  harsh  and  empirical 
treatment.  His  first  object  was  to  awaken 
the  king  to  the  necessity  of  adopting  healing 
measures  without  delay,  as  the  only  means 

the  supremacy  of  the  civil  magistrates  in  church  af- 
fairs, and  in  what  they  approved  or  disapproved  the 
late  indulgence  ;  for  the  advice  of  many  churchmen, 
not  proj)erly  interested,  was  asked  at  this  time,  ra- 
ther to  know  their  inclination,  than  for  information: 
and  it  was  easily  found,  that  the  liishop  of  lJunblane 
was  the  most  proper  and  tit  ])erson  to  serve  the  state 
in  the  churcli,  acconling  to  the  ])resi'nt  ])lattorm  nf 
gnvcrnin.  nt  now  resolved  uj)on :  for  lie  was  in  much 
esteem  for  his  piety  and  moderation,  among  the  peo- 
ple, as  to  which  the  presbyterians  tliemscives  could 
neither  rc])roach  nor  equal  him  ;  albeit  they  hated 
liim  most  of  all  his  fraternity,  in  respect  he  drew 
many  into  a  kindness  for  episcojiacy,  by  his  exem- 
plary life,  rather  than  debates.  His  great  principle 
was,  tliat  devotion  was  the  great  atl'air  al  out  which 
churchiriei,  shoulil  employ  themselves  ;  and  ttiat  the 
gaining  of  souls,  and  not  the  external  government, 
was  their  proper  task  :  nor  did  he  esteem  it  lit,  and 
scarce  lawful  to  churdimen,  to  sit  in  couiu  ils  and 
judicatories,  these  being  diversions  from  llir-  main. 
And  albeit  his  judgment  did  lead  him  to  believe  the 
church  of  Kngiaiul  the  best  model  of  all  others,  both 
for  doctrine  and  iliscipline,  yet  did  he  easily  conform 
with  the  practice  oi  the  Christians  aumng  whom  he 
lived,  and  therefore  lived  peaceal)ly  uniler  presbytery, 
till  it  was  abolished  :  aiul  wb'Mi  lie  undertook  "to  be 
bishop  himself,  he  opposed  all  violent  coursi's,  where- 
by men  were  forced  to  comply  with  the  present  wor 
ship,  beyond  their  jH'rsuasions  ;  and  he  granted  a  lat 
itude  anrl  indulgence  to  those  of  his  own  dioccss,  be 
fore  the  king  had  allowed  any  by  his  letter  Thi." 
made  the  world  believe,  that  he  was  the  author  Iff 
his  majesty  of  that  public  indidgence  ;  and  the  states 
men  who  were  unwilling  to  be  authors  of  an  innova- 
tion, which  some  there  thought  might  prove  dangei- 
ous,  were  well  satisfied  to  have  it  so  believed  :  but, 
however,  these  prineijiles  remlered  him  a  fit  instru- 
ment in  their  present  UD''crtakings."— Page  161. 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


of  averting  a  fatal  crisis.  Then,  without 
hazariliiitj  a  i)ri'inaturc  exposure  of  the  e\'- 
petliciits  wliioh  were  dictateil  by  the  ])reseiu 
exiucney,  lu-  humbly  advised  that  an  attempt 
sluiuld  be  uiade,  by  some  act  of  comprehen- 
sion, ti  draw  the  more  teiuiierate  of  the 
presbyterian  party  within  the  pale  of  the 
establishment  :  and  he  advertised  his  majes- 
ty of  the  dantfer  he  would  run  of  losintj  epis- 
copacy altosjether,  by  refusinf;  to  surrender 
any  of  its  appenda2;ep.  The  ship  would  sail 
less  fjallantly,  it  was  true,  with  her  topmasts 
cut  away  ;  but  that  was  her  only  chance  of 
outridin?  the  tem])est. 

The  k'mg  professed  to  fall  in  with  the 
moderate  measures  recommended  by  Lord 
Tweedale  and  Leiijhton.  But  the  passions 
of  the  covenanters  had  been  allowed  to  elfer- 
vesce  so  lonjj,  and  they  were  so  incensed  by 
the  king's  breach  of  faith,  and  by  the  oppres- 
siveness of  the  Hiirh  Commission,  that  it 
was  hardly  to  be  expected  that  any  ministe- 
rial filters,  how  artfully  soever  compounded, 
would  avail  to  charm  back  their  afleciions. 
Nor  were  the  presbyterian  chieftains  remiss 
or  unskilful  in  fomentin;;  the  popular  discon- 
tent. A  breath  from  them  would  have  ex- 
tinguished the  smoking  firebrand  ;  but  that 
breath  was  applied  t"o  fan  it  into  a  flame. 
Young  and  fiery  preachers  ranged  up  and 
down  the  country,  sounding  the  tocsin  of  the 
covenant,  and  warning  the  people  against 
the  deadly  plague  of  the  prelatic  leprosy. 
The  cause  of  presbyterianism  against  episco- 
pacy was  the  battle  of  Jehovali  with  Baal. 
It  was  a  holy  war  for  the  rescue  of  the  ark 
of  the  covenant  from  the  hands  of  uncircum- 
cised  Philistines  :  and  it  was  set  forth  under 
such  aspects,  as  should  respectivelv  attract 
both  the  bad  and  the  good  : — miscreants, 
who  loved  tunuilt,  and  throve  bv  the  disor- 
ders of  the  commonwealth,  along  with  men 
of  a  tender  conscience  or  a  resolute  piety. 
Accordingly,  these  fanatical  incendinrics  had 
great  success.  The  rabble  were  lashed  into 
madness  by  having  their  wrongs  and  their 
duties  perpetually  rung  in  their  ears  ;  and 
being  countenanced,  it  is  to  be  feared,  by 
men  above  the  rabble  in  birth  and  education, 
but  not  in  moderation  and  virtue,  thev  scru- 
pled at  nothing  that  might  evince  their  ha- 
tred to  the  episcopal  incumbents,  and  compel 
them  to  withdraw.  To  this  end,  affronts  and 
indignities  were  heaped  upon  their  heads  : 
they  could  not  pass  to  and  from  church,  in 
the  discharge  of  their  clerical  duties,  without 
encountering  volleys  of  reproaches  and  cur- 
ses, or  even  missiles  more  dangerous  to  their 
persons.  Their  houses  were  no  longer  a 
sanctuary  :  their  properly  was  plundered, 
and  their  lives  were  attempted.  Worn  out  by 
this  series  of  i)ersecutions,  and  despairing  of  a 
change  for  the  better,  many  of  these  unhap- 
py curates  abandoned  their  parishes,  a  few 
with  some,  but  most  without  any,  pecuniary 
eom{)ensation. 

While  the  flimsy  fabric  of  episcopacy  was 


I  rocking  in  this  tempest,  the  spirit  of  mfa  ua 
I  lion  liad  fallen  on  all  the  bishojis  excep 
I  Leighton  :  and  his  oracular  voice,  though  lift- 
I  ed  up  boldly,  was  drowned  in  the  clamor  fo: 
jiushing  forward  the  new  system  withoui 
l)uuse  or  relaxation.  He  persisted,  however, 
in  those  pacific  measures,  which  the  king 
had  engaged  to  sanction.  He  tried  to  per- 
I  suade  the  leading  statesmen  to  second  them 
]  witli  their  authority  ;  and  he  suggested  the 
I  expediency  of  repealing  those  absurd  laws, 
which  rated  the  episcopal  authority  far 
higiier  than  any  of  the  bishoj)s  dared  to  car- 
ry into  practice.  Taking  notice  of  the  ex- 
traordinary concessions  made  by  the  African 
Cliurch  to  the  Donatists,  who  were  to  the 
full  as  extravagant  as  the  peojjle  of  his  own 
day,  he  was  an  advocate  for  going  a  great 
way  toward  meeting  their  demands,  and  for 
so  lengthening  the  cords  and  stretching  out 
the  curtains,  of  the  episcopal  frame,  as  tc 
take  in  all  the  covenanters  who  were  not  im- 
))lacable  recusants.  Although  the  conces- 
sions, to  which  he  was  pre|)ared  to  i)rocced, 
went  near  to  vacate  the  episcopal  olTn-e,  yet 
he  thougiit  them  justified  by  the  improbabil- 
ity of  their  j)ermanence  ;  for  he  counted  that 
when  the  present  race  of  untameable  zealots 
was  laid  in  the  grave,  and  an  era  of  peace 
had  allowed  scope  for  a  revival  of  good 
sense  and  charity,  there  would  be  a  read- 
iness on  the  part  of  the  people  to  reinvest 
the  bishop  with  such  prerogatives  as  he  had 
been  unreasonably  compelled  to  sacrifice  at 
the  shrine  of  religious  concord. 

The  articles  proposed  by  Leighton  for  the 
basis  of  an  accommodation,  are  reported  by 
Burnet  in  nearly  the  following  words  : — 

1.  That  the  church  should  be  governed  by 
the  bishops  and  their  clergy,  mixing  together 
in  the  church  judicatories,  in  which  the 
bishop  should  act  only  as  a  president,  and  be 
determined  by  the  majority  of  his  presbyters, 
both  in  matters  of  jurisdiction  and  ordination. 

2.  That  the  presbyters  should  be  allowed, 
when  they  first  sat  down  in  their  judicato- 
ries, to  declare  that  their  sitting  under  a 
bishop  was  submitted  to  by  ihem  for  ])eace 
sake  ;  with  a  reservation  of  their  opinion 
with  relation  to  any  such  presidency  ;  aad 
that  no  negative  vote  should  be  claimed  by  the 
bishop. 

3.  That  bishops  should  go  to  the  churches, 
in  which  such  as  were  candidates  for  ordina- 
tion were  to  serve,  and  hear  and  discuss  any 
exceptions  that  were  made  to  them,  and  or- 
dain ihem  with  the  concurrence  of  the  pres- 
bytery. 

4.  That  such  as  were  to  be  ordained  should 
have  leave  to  declare  their  oi)'nion,  if  they 
held  that  the  bishop  was  only  the  head  of 
the  presbyters. 

5.  That  provincial  synods  should  sit  in 
course  every  third  year,  or  oftener  if  the  king 
summoned  them  ;  in  which  complaints  of  ihe 
bishops  shoukl  be  received,  and  they  shixild 
be  censured  according  to  their  deserts. 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


25 


Ii  was  uot  to  be  expected  that  such  a 
Bcheme  would  go  down  smoothly  with  the 
patrons  of  the  new  system.  There  was  an 
outcry  against  it  as  a  measure  subversive  of 
episcopacy,  which  it  certainly  despoiled  of 
some  capital  dignities  and  powers.  Against 
this  Leighton  urged,  thai  it  was  better  to  de- 
press episcopacy  below  the  scriptural  model, 
than  to  suffer  ihe  church  to  continue  a  prey 
to  those  factions,  which  had  already  carried 
a  sword  into  its  bowels.  He  further  essayed 
to  sooth  the  indignant  prelatists,  by  show- 
ing how  probable  it  was  that  the  locks,  of 
which  episcopacy  was  unhandsomely  shorn. 
Would  rapidly  grow  again  ;  and  that,  like  a 
moulted  eagle,  it  would  ere  long,  soar  aloft 
with  renovated  strength  and  richer  plumage. 

As  there  is  no  reason,  on  the  one  hand,  to 
suspect  the  bishop  of  Dunblane  of  having 
held  out  hopes,  to  propitiate  the  high  episco- 
palians, which  he  thought  unlikely  to  be  veri- 
fied, so  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  not  the 
slightest  ground  for  charging  him  with  du- 
plicity, because,  while  proposing  an  exces- 
sive abasement  of  the  episcopal  office,  he  an- 
ticipated its  partial  redintegration.  Had  he 
artfull  shaped  the  proposed  constitution,  so 
as  to  eave  a  handle  by  which  the  bishops 
migh  recover  their  abdicated  authority  ;  or 
had  1  e  purposely  made  the  machinery  liable 
to  a'  cidents  and  ernbarassments,  which  it 
would  need  an  augmentation  of  the  episco- 
pal influence  to  remedy,  he  would  justly 
have  incurred  the  reproach  of  double  deal- 
ing. But  it  is  obvious  that  he  studied,  with 
the  greatest  good  faith,  to  accommodate  his* 
plan  to  the  presbytcrian  taste  as  nearly  as 
the  government  with  which  he  acted  would 
endure.  No  doulu  he  foresaw  the  likelihood 
of  the  presbyterian  ministers  themselves,  as 
soon  as  the  fever  of  faction  and  bigotry 
should  be  allayed,  unclosing  their  eyes  to  the 
inconvenience  of  so  immoderately  retrench- 
ing the  powers  of  their  chief  functionary. 
Such  foresight  is  creditable  to  his  penetra- 
tion, without  disparagement  to  his  integrity. 
In  order  to  form  an  adequate  estimate  of  this 
great  bishop's  merits,  it  is  necessary  to  re- 
flect upon  the  extraordinary  difficulties  with 
which  he  had  to  contend.  He  was  media- 
ting between  two  fierce  parlies,  who  agreed 
in  nothing  but  unkind  suspicions  of  himseif  ; 
and  it  was  hardly  within  the  compass  of  hu- 
man skill  and  wisdom,  in  thai  . squally  season, 
to  steer  so  exactly  through  a  narrow  and  in- 
tricate channel,  as  to  escape  the  rocks  on  one 
side  without  strikini;  upon  those  on  the 
other.  It  was  his  difficult  task  to  keep  on 
terms  with  the  impatient  arrogance  of  the 
episcopal  party,  at  the  same  time  that  he  ac- 
commodated himself  to  the  crabbed  hutnors 
and  contracted  genius  of  the  nonconformists. 
He  had  at  once  to  propitiate  jealous  adver- 
saries, and  to  obviate  the  misconduct  of  luke- 
warm or  dishonest  confederates.  One  while 
he  was  thwarted  by  the  king's  despotic  jeal- 
ousies, and  again  he  was  traversed  by  the 
4 


selfish  wiliness  of  Lauderdale.  That  he 
should  have  done  so  much,  and  endurea  so 
bravely,  must  therefore  be  ascribed  to  a  zeal, 
a  diligence,  a  constancy,  a  wisdom,  an  un- 
quenchable benevolence,  and  a  valorous  self- 
devotion,  before  which  everything  bent  but 
the  inflexible  sinews  of  relentless  bigotry. 

It  was  the  Earl  of  Kirkadine's  advice,  that 
no  treaty  should  be  attempted  with  the  pres- 
byterians  ;  but  that  whatever  concessions  it 
might  be  thought  expedient  to  make,  shculd 
pass  into  laws  :  and  he  hoped  that,  when 
they  saw  nothu^  further  was  to  be  expected 
from  holding  out,  they  would  accede  to  the 
new  arrangements.  In  this  opinion  Leighton 
fully  concurred  ;  but  Lord  Lauderdale  refus- 
ed his  assent,  with  a  sinister  purpose,  it  was 
shrewdly  suspected,  of  frustrating  the  at- 
tempt at  accommodation.  It  was  then  re- 
solved to  try  whether  anything  could  be 
effected  by  private  negotiation.  With  this 
view  Burnet  was  sent  to  Hutchinson,*  who 
was  connected  with  him  by  marriage,  and 
was  esteemed  the  most  learned  man  of  that 
party,  to  sound  his  sentiments  on  the  com- 
jirehension,  but  not  to  propose  it  officially. 
The  wary  minister  took  care,  ho\Yever,  not 
to  commit  himself,  observing  that  he  was 
but  one  of  many,  and  his  opinion  that  of  a 
simple  individual.  Ali  he  would  say  was, 
that  the  project  was  not  in  his  eyes  very 
promising  :  but  he  reserved  his  sentence  on 
the  particular  concessions  proposed,  until  they 
should  be  ratified  by  competent  authority. 

Shortly  after  this  abortive  negotiation,  the 
experiment  was  tried  of  granting  some  of  the 
vacant  churches  to  the  most  moderate  of  the 
presbyterian  ministers.  The  adoption  of  this 
measure  was  accelerated,  if  not  occasioned, 
by  a  letter  of  Burnet  to  Lord  Tweedale,  in 
which  he  strongly  advised  it ;  and  being 
known  to  cherish  an  almost  filial  reverence 
for  Leighton,  it  was  naturally  presumed  that 
he  was  the  organ  of  the  bishop's  sentiments. 
The  fact  is,  however,  that  the  letter  in  ques- 
tion had  not  been  imparted  to  Leighton  ;  nor 
would  it,  there  is  reason  to  think,  have  40- 
tained  his  concurrence. 

This  measure,  which  was  contrarjr^to  the 
law  that  had  vested  the  right  of  parochial 
institution  in  the  bishops,  was  productive  of 
little  or  no  advantage.  The  indulged  minis 
ters  could  not,  in  common  decency,  lauiicL 
out  against  the  episcopal  platform;  and  they 
were  driven  to  preach  more  on  Chrisii;in  doc- 
trine and  practice  than  suited  the  temper  of 
the  times.  Hence  they  fell  under  a  rejjroach 
with  their  several  congregations,  which  pre- 
vented their  usefulness  ;  and  what  with  the 
contemptuous  invectives  of  the  non-indulged 
ministers  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  unkind 

•  Gcor!?c  Hutchinson  was  pdiicated  at  Glasgow,  and 
was  accouiitPil  one  of  the  groatfst  prcaclicrs  ol'  the 
presbyterian  parly.  He  was  a  learned  man,  and 
wrote  on  the  twelve  Minor  Prophets,  on  the  book  of 
Job,  and  on  the  gospel  ol  St  John.  He  died  in  the 
year  1674. 


20 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


reccinion  tliey  met  wiili  frum  the  presbyte- 
rian  laity  on  the  oilier,  they  seem  to  havo 
rapidly  sunk  into  a  state  ot"  cowar^'ce  and 
supiueuess,  which  exliiisutsh  ;d  all  liie  hopes 
lliat  had  been  raised  on  theii  a])poiiitment. 

Ill  November,  1669,  a  bill  was  laid  before  ' 
the  parliament  ol'  Scotland,  well  known  as 
the  Assertory  Act,  which  carried  to  an  ex- 
orbitant extent  the  royal  prerogative.  It  as-  , 
serted.  that  "all  thinijs  relating  to  the  ex- 
ternal government  of  the  church  belonged  to  j 
the  crown  ;  and  that  all  things  relating  to 
ecclesiastical  nieciiiigs,  matters,  and  persons, 
were  to  be  ordered  according  to  such  direc- 
tions as  the  king  should  send  to  his  privy 
council."  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  a 
leading  object  with  the  devisors  of  this  bill 
was,  to  curry  favor  with  the  heir  presuinp- 
tire  to  the  throne,  by  paving  the  way  for  the 
ingress  of  popery.  Yet  it  was  artfully  con- 
trived to  catch  ihe  passions  of  the  presbyte- 
rians,  who  thought  the  chance  would  be  im- 
proved for  the  abolition  of  prelacy,  if  it  rest- 
ed with  an  individual  to  abrogate  it  at  any 
time  with  a  single  dash  of  the  pen,  than  if  it 
could  only  be  elFected  through  the  tedious 
formalities  and  contentious  proceedings  of  par- 
liament. Some  moderate  men.  Lord  Twee- 
dale  avowedly,  and  probably  the  Bishop  of 
Dunblane,  regarded  this  measure  with  more 
favor,  or  strictly  speaking  with  less  aversion, 
than  it  merited;  for  they  imagined  that  it 
was  designed  only  to  justify  the  Indulgence, 
and  to  remove  impediments  out  of  the  way 
of  that  pacific  policy  on  which  the  king  had 
entered.  It  is  to  be  lamented  that  Leighton 
should  have  been  inveigled  by  these  consider-  | 
ations  into  voting  for  a  measure,  which  added 
such  dangerous  powers  to  the  crown.  It  was 
not,  indeed,  till  after  many  demurs,  and  in- 
sisting upon  several  modifications,  that  he  at 
length  yielded  it  his  sutl'rage  ;  but  what  was 
his  indignation  at  finding  interpolated  in  the 
bill,  when  it  came  out  with  the  royal  sanc- 
tion, the  momentous  words  "  ecclesiastical 
afl'airs  ;"  while  sundry  saving  and  explana- 
tory clauses,  which  had  been  inserted  at  his 
instance  in  the  roug-h  draught,  were  omit- 
ted !  Such  a  scandalous  fraud  is  very  cred- 
ible of  the  profligate  statesmen  of  those  ini- 
quitous times,  and  will  go  far,  with  candid 
minds,  to  vindicate  the  bishop  from  the 
blame  of  incaution;  but  to  the  end  of  his 
days  he  rell'Pcted  on  this  afl^air  with  self-re- 
proach, and  bitterly  regretted  that  his  judg- 
ment should  have  slumbered  on  such  an  oc-  j 
casion. 

The  first  exertion  of  the  authority  vested 
in  tnc  sovereign  by  this  bill  was  the  removal 
of  Archbishop  Burnet  from  Glasgow,  in  which 
see  he  had  earned  but  a  sorry  rejiutation  for 
episcopal  virtues.  Immediately  after  his  de- 
posal,  Leight(jn  was  pressed  by  the  Earls  of 
Lauderdale  and  Twcedale  to  accept  the  va- 
cant dignity.  To  this  proposal  he  testified 
the  utmost  repugnance,  and  indeed  pertina- 
liously  withstood  it,  till  he  was  induced  to  be- 


lieve that  his  translation  o  a  'jpliert;  of  suf  H 
extensive  influence  would  bring  hiin  nearer 
to  the  grand  and  governing  object  oi  his 
life  :  the  king's  ministry  having  engaged  to 
lend  its  utmost  support  to  his  plan  of  accomo- 
uation.  In  consequence  of  this  promotion,  he 
received  a  summons  to  court ;  auc  v  his  way 
up  to  London  he  called  on  Dr.  Gilbert  Burnet, 
who  then  filled  the  chair  of  divinity  at  Glas- 
gow.  With  him  he-  concerted  the  likeliest 
means  of  composing  the  feuds  of  the  church  , 
a  work  in  which  he  had  embarked  with  the 
spirit  of  a  martyr,  and  which  he  streimously 
followed  up  by  labors  and  waichings,  through 
conflicts,  defamation,  and  outrages,  with  toil 
of  body  and  anguish  of  heart ;  a  dearer  price 
than  he  would  have  consented  to  give  for  any 
worldly  dignities,  but  nothing  to  what  he 
would  have  gladly  paid  down  to  purchase 
the  welfare  ol'  the  Christian  Zion. 

It  has  been  related  that,  two  years  before, 
Leighton  had  intimated  jiretty  plainly  to  the 
king,  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  some  ex- 
traordinary measures,  to  rescue  the  ejuscopal 
church  from  impending  ruin.  At  thai  con- 
ference, however,  he  submitted  no  specific 
expedient;  I'earing,  perhaps,  to  impede  his 
own  designs  by  overforwardness ;  and  con- 
vinced that  ihe  measures,  which  he  had  in 
contemplation,  were  such  as  royalty  would 
never  endure,  until  driven  to  ihem  by  an  ob- 
vious and  urgent  necessity.  But  now  that 
Charles  had  learned,  from  two  years'  longer 
experience,  the  dangerous  lolly  of  attempting 
to  produce  unil'ormity  by  compulsion  ;  and 
now  that  Leighton,  by  his  elevation  to  the 
metropoliton  see  of  Glasgow,  stood  on  more 
advantageous  ground  than  heretofore  for 
dealing  plainly  witli  the  sovereign,  no  reason 
remained  for  delay.  Mingling  ])olicy  with 
truth,  he  represented  the  vast  advantage  that 
would  accrue  to  his  majesty's  government,  if 
the  people  of  Scotland  could  be  brought  to  a 
better  temper.  Nor  was  the  king  insensible 
to  the  sound  sense  of  the  archbishop's  repre- 
sentations. Accordingly  he  acceded  to  all 
that  was  demanded  of  him,  and  caused  a  pa- 
per of  instructions  to  be  drawn  up,  conform- 
able to  the  archbishop's  ideas,  and  to  be 
transmitted  to  the  Earl  of  Lauderdale,  ac- 
companied with  orders  to  that  minister  to 
obtain  the  enactment  of  corresponding  laws. 
There  are  symptoms,  however,  in  this  trans- 
action of  Charles  of  that  recklessness  of 
falsehood,  with  which  he  was  deeply  tainted 
both  in  his  domestic  and  civil  character. 
Lauderdale,  too,  was  a  minister,  whose 
movements  always  answered  to  the  wishes 
of  his  profligate  master;  and  it  Avould  be 
hard  to  conceive  that  any  good  scheme 
should  pass  through  such  hands  without 
miscarrying  or  turning  to  evil. 

When  I  eighton  had  compassed  this  point, 
his  next  endeavor  was  to  generate  such  a 
spirit  in  his  diocess  as  should  favor  his  con- 
ciliatory operations ;  such  a  genial  atmo- 
sphere of  holy  charity,  if  the  expression  mav 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


27 


De  allowed,  as  should  suit  with  the  medici- 
nal process  he  had  iiislituted  for  restoring  the 
healtli  of  tlie  couutry.  To  do  this  effectunlly 
it  was  expedient  that  he  should  remove  to 
Glasgow  :  the  affairs  of  which  see,  from  a 
modest  repugnance  to  assume  the  archi-epis- 
copal  dignities,  he  had  hitherto  administered 
as  comraendator  only,  Irom  a  distance.  In- 
deed, it  appears  from  the  register  of  the  par- 
liamentary council,  that,  though  nominated 
and  presented,  he  was  never  formally  trans- 
lated to  the  see  of  Glasgow.  As  soon  as  he 
had  removed  to  this  city  from  Dunhlane,  he 
held  a  synod  of  his  clergy,  who  were  loud  in 
their  complaints  of  desertion  and  ill  usage, 
and  craved  immediate  i  ;dress.  This  appeal 
was  not  answered  with  nromises  of  compel- 
ling the  people  to  attend  the  church,  and  of 
inflicting  fines  and  other  punishments  on  the 
contumacious.  To  the  surprise  and  mortifi- 
cation of  the  clergy,  who  were  little  accus- 
tomed to  such  doctrines,  the  only  weapons 
recommended  by  their  metropolitan  were  of 
ethereal  temper ;  forbearance,  conciliation, 
and  a  humble  waiting  upon  God.  "Lcighton, 
in  a  sermon  that  he  preached  to  them,  and  in 
several  discourses  both  in  public  and  private, 
exhorted  them  to  look  up  more  to  God  :  to  con- 
sider themselves  as  the  ministers  of  the  cross 
of  Christ  ;  to  bear  the  contempt  and  ill  usage 
they  met  with  as  a  cross  laid  on  them  for  the 
exercise  of  their  faith  and  patience  ;  to  lay 
aside  all  the  appetites  of  revenge  ;  to  humble 
themselves  before  God  ;  to  have  many  days 
for  secret  fasting  and  prayers ;  and  to  meet 
often  together,  that  they  might  quicken  and 
assist. one  another  in  those  holy  exercises; 
and  then  they  might  expect  blessings  from 
heaven  upon  their  labofs."* 

Not  content  with  these  endeavors  to  im- 
prove his  clergy,  he  also  went  about  the 
country,  takinir  Burnet  with  him,  on  a  visit 
to  the  most  influential  of  the  indulged  minis- 
ters, whom  he  tried  to  gain  over  by  sound  ar- 
gumentation and  by  Christian  gentleness. 
He  let  them  know  that  propositions  would 
shortly  be  laid  before  thein  in  a  more  regular 
form,  with  a  view  of  allaying  the  heats  and 
jealousies  that  now  burned  so  fiercely,  of 
putting  an  end  to  the  unhapfiy  differences 
that  now  separated  brother  from  brother,  and 
of  uniting  all  parties  in  the  bunds  of  amicable 
forbearance  at  least,  if  not  of  perfect  unanim- 
ity. He  also  pledged  himself  that  the  busi- 
ness should  be  carried  on  with  unreserved 
cordiality;  that  no  offers  on  his  part  should 
be  retracted  or  frittered  away:  and  that,  on 
being  accepted,  they  should  forthwith  pass 
into  laws.  But  in  this  embassy  of  love  he 
was  met  with  chilling  unkindness.  Not  a 
grain  of  concession  could  be  extorted  from 
the  covenanters  ;  who  probably  inferred  from 
the  gratuitous  advances  made  toward  them 
that  the  balance  in  the  royal  counsels  was 
inclining  in  their  favor.  Perhaps,  too,  they 
Were  the  more  incapable  of  appreciating  the 

•  JJiim'-.l's  History  of  his  own  Time  ;  book  ii  j 


fraitkness  and  ingenuity  of  Leitrhton,  through 
being  practised  upon  by  mischievous  emis- 
saries, who  found  it  an  easy  task  to  confirm 
in  their  obduracy  minds  more  than  half  sear- 
ed by  protracted  animosities  and  rancorous 
reflections.  In  their  ideas  the  complete  suc- 
cess of  their  party  was  identified  with  the 
triumph  of  Christ's  church;  and  prelatic 
domination  with  the  supremacy  of  Antichrist. 
They  were  debarred  by  an  imperious  con- 
science from  entt  -ng  into  any  terms  of  com- 
position with  the  impure  Spirit,  which  had 
issued  from  the  bottomless  pit,  and  was  blast- 
ing their  goodly  Zion  ;  and  they  dreaded  the 
condemnation  of  Saul  in  the  war  of  Amalek, 
should  they  spare  any  part  of  the  Babylonish 
system  from  utter  extermination.  Such  were 
their  principles;  and  consistent  with  these 
was  the  welcome  given  to  the  archbishop's 
overtures  for  an  accommodation.  Sometimes, 
indeed,  his  condescension  was  requited  with  • 
absolute  incivility  and  rudeness.  He  there- 
fore returned  from  his  apostolic  circuit,  dis- 
pirited and  almost  despondent ;  yet  still  re- 
solved to  try  the  experiment  of  a  solemn  and 
official  congress  with  the  presbyterian  lead- 
ers ;  it  being  possible  that  some  spirits  among 
them  of  softer  mould  might  be  wrought  upon 
to  entertain  his  j)roposals.  Should  the  attempt 
fail,  it  would  still  have  discovered  to  the  na- 
tion at  large,  with  what  party  it  rested  that 
the  breaches  of  the  church  were  not  healed  ; 
and,  while  it  fully  ac(juif  ted  the  ejiiscopalians 
of  intolerance,  it  would  expose  tiie  machina- 
tions and  diminish  the  credit  of  the  enemies 
to  peace  and  unity. 

The  first  meeting  took  place  at  Holyrood- 
House  in  Edinburgh,  on  the  9th  of  August, 
1670.  Lauderdale,  the  high  commissioner, 
with  some  lords  of  the  council,  Leighton, 
Professor  Burnet,  and  Patterson,  afterward 
archbishop  of  Glasgow,  formed  the  array  on 
one  side  ;  and  on  the  opposite  side  appeared 
Hutchinson,  Wcdderburn,  Ramsay,  and  two 
other  ministers  of  repute  with  their  party. 

Lauderdale  opened  the  meeting  with  a 
conciliatory  harangue,  in  which  he  besought 
the  presbyterian  disputants  to  assist  the 
royal  commissioners,  in  c(jnformity  with  his 
majesty's  earnest  wishes,  to  appease  the 
commotions  of  the  church,  and  to  settle  il 
anew  on  a  basis  of  reciprocal  concession.  He 
was  followed  by  Leighton,  who  dwelt  feel- 
ingly on  the  evils  of  schism,  and  detailed 
th(!  calamities  which  had  already  resulted 
from  the  mutual  alienation  of  episcopalians 
and  anti-episcopalians  :  but  earnestly  trusted 
that  both  parties  would  now  co-operate,  heart 
and  hand,  in  washing  out  this  slain  of  prot- 
estantism, and  introducing  an  era  of  frater- 
nal love  and  concord.  After  notifying  the 
readiness  of  the  bishops  to  stoop  to  the 
lowest  point  of  defensible  condescension  in 
meeting  the  presbyterian  scruples,  he  drew 
a  comparison  between  the  rival  platforms r 
pointing  out  the  defects  inherent  in  the 
presbyterian,  and    the   ground   there  was 


28 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTOJN. 


for  concliidinsf  that  episcopacy  had  exist-  ] 
ed  in  substance,  if  not  in  name,  I'roni  tlie 
infantile  aije  uf  Chrisiianity.  He  labt)red  to  j 
v.onvince  iheni,  tluit  many  parts  of  the  pres- 
bytei'iun  disciphne  were  not  fortified  by  apos- 
tolic [iraciice,  and  bore  no  signature  of  a  di- 
vine appointment:  that,  m  establishing  a 
form  oi  ecclesiastical  government,  we  are 
free  to  institute  otfices  of  which  the  ins])ired 
volume  furnishes  no  jirecedent,  ])rovided 
nothing  contrary  to  the  orders  of  Christ,  and 
to  the  spirit  of  his  religion,  be  admitted  ; 
and  that,  by  submitting  to  the  episcopal  form, 
they  would  not  bind  themselves  to  comply 
with  anything  repugnant  to  the  dispensa- 
tion of  the  gospel,  nor  to  tolerate  any  en- 
croachment on  the  pastoral  functions.  If, 
however,  they  scrupled  to  allow  of  fixed  pres- 
idents nominated  by  the  sovereign  ;  or  if 
they  apprehended  that  along  with  the  presi- 
dency some  more  exceptionable  jurisdiction 
Would  accrue  to  the  bishops — against  these 
contingents  they  should  be  at  liberty  to 
enter  a  prospective  protest,  in  as  full  and 
public  a  manner  as  they  pleased.  Such  lati- 
tude being  granted  to  tender  consciences, 
he  thought  the  sacrifices  it  remained  for 
them  to  make  could  only  be  refused  by  fas- 
tidious squeamishness,  or  vexatious  obstina- 
cy ;  and  he  conjured  them  to  weigh  the 
whole  matter,  as  in  the  presence  of  God, 
without  respect  to  party  or  popularity.  No 
answer,  or  none  of  any  consequence,  was  re- 
turned at  the  time  to  this  powerful  address  ; 
but,  the  following  morning,  Hutchinson  went 
with  his  colleagues,  whose  prolocutor  he 
seems  to  have  been,  to  the  archbishop's 
chamber,  and  there  argued  at  length  on  the 
propositions  submitted  to  them  the  prece- 
ding day.  Lauderdale  wanted  an  immediate 
and  positive  answer  ;  but  from  this  the  min- 
isters excused  themselves,  on  the  ground 
that  they  could  speak  only  as  individuals, 
having  no  authority  to  stipulate  for  their 
brethren  in  general.  The  j)lea  was  consid- 
ered reasonable,  and  proceedings  were  sus- 
pended till  the  1st  of  November  ;  in  which 
interval  they  were  to  collect  the  sentiments 
of  their  fraternity,  and  to  come  to  ihe  next 
conference  prepared  with  a  record,  which 
might  be  acted  upon  as  official.  Lord  Laud- 
erdale was  naturally  haughty  and  irritable  ; 
and  having  been  used  to  the  refinement  of 
courts,  he  might  find  it  hard  to  brook,  and 
would  be  apt  to  misconstrue,  conscientious 
plain-dealing.  Certain  it  is,  however,  that 
he  imbibed  on  this  occasion  a  very  unfavora- 
ble oi)inion  of  the  nonconformists.  He  com- 
plained of  the  behavior  being  rude  and  crafty  ; 
and  it  re'juired  all  Leighton's  fine  temper 
and  management  to  prevent  him  from  hand- 
ling them  roughly. 

About  this  time,  the  archbishop  conceived 
a  plan  for  purging  his  diocess  of  scandalous 
ministers.  For  this  purpose  he  appointed  a 
board  of  examiners,  who  were  empowered 
to  summon  before  them  any  officiating  minis- 


ter against  whom  his  parishioners  had  chap 
ges  to  prefer.  The  king's  council  however 
interjiosed,  and  added  to  this  consistory  cer- 
tain lay  commissioners  : —  a  sus])icious  inter- 
ference, that  seemed  intended  to  ])erplex  the 
business,  and  prevent  its  being  doiu  efl'ectU' 
ally.  Such  at  least  was  the  result  :  for  the 
prosecution  of  clerical  delinquencies  was 
hampered  with  so  many  dilhculties,  and  the 
accuser  fell  under  such  heavy  penalties  if  he 
failed  to  substantiate  his  deposition,  that  few 
parishes  ventured  to  impeach  their  minister, 
except  for  immoralities  too  notorious  to  be 
denied,  and  too  gross  to  be  pi"'iated. 

I  can  not  ascertain  whether  it  were  before, 
or  shortly  after,  the  initial  convocation,  that 
Leighton  fell  upon  another  expedient  to  fur-, 
ther  the  great  end  for  which  alone  he  seemed 
to  live.  He  sent  on  a  tour  to  the  western 
counties  Burnet  and  five  other  episcopal 
clergymen,  among  whom  were  Nairn  and 
Charteris,  divines  in  the  highest  esteem  for 
erudition  and  piety.  The  object  of  this  mis- 
sion is  variously  reported.  In  a  i)aj)er  of 
the  Lansdown  manuscripts,  which  is  copied 
with  some  additions  into  Wodrow's  disingen- 
uous history,  it  is  pretended  that  Leighton 
anticipated  nothing  short  of  a  national  con- 
version from  the  eloquence  of  these  mission- 
aries. From  Burnet,  however,  who  could 
not  be  misinformed  of  the  archbishop's  mo- 
lives,  we  learn  that  the  directions  given  to 
himself  and  his  associates  were — "  to  argue 
upon  the  grounds  of  the  accommodation.' 
In  his  account  of  this  transaction  there  is 
a  palpable  fairness  which  carries  conviction. 
He  frankly  admits  that  the  people  did  not 
flock  to  them  in  crowds,  although  a  congre- 
gation respectably  numerous  was  seldom 
wanting  ;  and  he  pays  a  high  tribute  to  the 
religious  information  and  argumentative  skill 
of  the  common  people,  and  to  their  readiness 
on  scriptural  topics,  though  be  found  these 
excellences  marred  with  a  bitter  leaven  of 
self-conceit,  and  "  a  most  entangled  scrupu- 
losity." This  pious  attempt  was  productive 
of  no  lasting  benefit :  for  no  sooner  had  the 
episcopal  detachment  quitted  the  field,  than 
it  was  reoccupied  by  the  conventicles,  which 
had  been  at  a  stand  during  their  stay  ;  and 
hot  brained  preachers  cast  again  the  touch  of 
bigotry  upon  materials  which  were  lamenta- 
bly prone  to  inflame.  In  truth,  the  meas- 
ures now  in  train  for  winning  over  the  anti- 
episcopal  party  to  moderate  sentiments,  fail- 
ing of  that  happy  issue,  did  hut  widen  the 
breach;  as  is  commonly  the  result  of  abor- 
tive efforts  at  reconciliation.  The  fire,  not 
being  stifled,  was  stirred.  Met  together  to 
canvass  the  proffered  indulgence,  the  cov- 
enanters had  their  spirits  inflamed  by  debate 
and  altercation  :  and  as  they  went  nn  argu- 
ing, the  points  which  severed  them  from  the 
pale  of  episcopacy  seemed  to  multiply,  and 
to  grow  in  importance.  Regarding  the  over- 
tures of  the  royal  commissioners  for  a  com 
promise,  as  a  stratagem  for  enticing  the  gar- 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


29 


nsoa  of  presbytery  into  a  rapitulation  of  its 
principal  bulwarks, they  animated  each  other 
to  persist  in  a  resistance,  of  which  they  ar- 
gued a  speedy  and  glorious  termination, 
against  that  twofold  mystery  of  iniquity,  pre- 
latic  domini'^-n  and  servile  Erastiauism. 
"  They  helped  every  one  his  neighbor,  and  ev- 
ery one  said  to  his  brother,  be  of  good  cour- 
age." In  vam  did  Leighion  endeavor  by  pa- 
pers of  logical  argument,  or  of  pathetic  re- 
monstrance, to  persuade  them  that  by  alter- 
ing their  discipline  in  some  few  particulars, 
which  nowise  affected  its  essence,  they  vyould 
only  be  conforming  to  a  principle  o\i  which 
they  had  acied  during  Cromwell's  usurpsition, 
and  even  subsequently  to  the  restoration. 
None  of  these  considerations  had  any  weight 
with  men,  the  excesses  of  whose  zeal  were 
prescribed  or  ratified  by  a  stern  and  moody 
conscience.  If  he  attempted  by  letters  to 
impress  some  of  the  more  dispassionate  min- 
isters with  opinions  favorable  to  his  propo- 
sal, the  attempt  was  reprobated  as  unfair  ; 
and  not  a  little  off'ence  was  taken  at  his  ven- 
turing, in  epistolary  correspondence  wiih  his 
private  friends,  to  reflect  upon  ihe  spirit 
which  had  it  shown  itself  in  the  presbyterian 
party  ;  and  to  prognosticate  the  failure  of  the 
ne^-oMation.* 

But  Leighton,  though  wearied  and  broken- 
hearted, resolved  to  tnake  aiioiher  attempt  to 
burst  the  strongholds  of  presbyterian  preju- 
dice, or  the  still  less  penetrable  barriers  of 
party  spirit : — 

 -"  ter  saxea  tentat 

Limina  nequicquam  ;  ter  lessus  valle  resedit." 

After  some  vexatious  opposition,  another  con- 
ference took  place  at  Paisley,  on  the  14th  of 
December,  1670,  in  which  the  archbishop, 
assisted  by  two  clergymen,  entered  the  lists 
with  about  twenty-six  of  the  nonconformists. 
It  was  opened  in  a  manner  illustrative  of  the 
candor  and  piety  of  Leighton,  by  a  prayer 
from  the  oldest  minister  in  the  town.  The 
archbishop  then  made  an  able  and  eloquent 
speech,  in  which  he  went  over  the  old 
ground  ;  but  aimed  especially  at  making  his 
opponent  sensible,  how  unreasonable  and 
blameable  it  was  to  abate  nothing  on  their 
Jide,  but  to  exact  unbounded  concession  from 
I  he  other.  He  further  urged  them  to  reflect, 
whether  they  would  have  refused  commu- 
nion with  the  church  at  the  period  of  the 
Nicene  council  ;  and  yet  episcopacy  was  then 
of  a  lordlier  character  than  it  now  affected 
in  Scotland. t    On  the  other  side  it  was  con- 

•  Sop,  Letters  in  tbe  Appendix. 

f  The  t'ollnwing  citation  from  a  worI<  entitled, 
"  The  Present  State  of  Scotland,"  by  Matthias  Sym- 
son.  Canon  of  Lincoln,  shows  that  episcopacy  in  that 
country  was  already  in  point  of  fact,  in  consequence 
no  (Ir)iibi  of  r,eighton's  exertions,  reduced  almost  as 
low  as  the  nature  of  an  episeopol  church  could  admit. 

"After  the  king's  restoration,  when  bishops  were 
re-established,  none  were  admitted  into  the  ministry 
but  by  episcopal  ordination  :  thousjh  every  bishop  did 
not  use  the  same  form,  yet  none  of  them  (except 
Bishop  Mitchcl)  imposed  what  was  called  reordina- 


tended,  that  archbishops  were  unknown  to 
the  primitive  church  ;  that  bishops  were  pa.- 
rocnial,  and  not  diocesan  ;  that  two  might 
act  together  in  one  church  ;  and  that  they 
were  elected  by  their  presbyters,  to  whom 
they  were  accountable  for  the  discharge  of 
their  functions.  To  these  objections  Profes- 
sor Burnet,  at  the  request  of  Leighton,  who 
was  fatigued  with  speaking,  replied  at  con- 
siderable length  ;  either  controverting  the 
facts  asserted,  or  impeaching  the  conclusion 
drawn  from  them.*  In  the  course  of  the  de- 
bate, which  was  very  wearing  to  mind  and 

I  body,  the  archbishop's  nose  began  to  bleed  ; 
and  this  incident  was  matter  of  some  exulta- 
tion to  his  adversaries,  who  attributed  it  to 
the  hard  knocks  he  had  the  theo- 

logical combat.  Whether  these  opima  spolia 
were  the  best  grounds  they  had  for  chanting 
a  paean,  it  is  not  our  present  business  to  in- 
quire. Nothing,  however,  was  effected  tow- 
ard the  establishment  of  peace.  Both  par- 
ties claimed  the  victory  in  argument ;  and 
not  a  step  was  taken  by  the  presbyterians  to 
meet  the  episcopalians,  who  carried  home 

,  nothing  but  humiliation,  after  goinsr  more 

I  than  half  way      embrace  their  froward  and 

j  ungracious  brethren. 

I  At  the  close  of  this  conference  which 
I  Leighton  had  industriously  brou^bt  about, 
in  hopes  of  giving  such  a  turn  to  tiie  temper 
of  the  nonconformists  as  might  liave  a  kindly 
influence  on  their  final  decision,  he  gave  them 
in  writing  the  propositions  which  had  before 
been  only  verbally  communicated.  It  was 
not  without  reluctance  that  he  committed 
them  to  paper  ;  and  it  is  easy  to  conjecture 
the  bad  consequences  he  might  apprehend 

tion  on  such  as  had  been  ordained  otherwise,  though 
they  did  not  refuse  it  to  such  as  desired  it.  They 
enjoined  no  form  of  public  jjrayer,  except  the  Lord's 
prayer  ;  but  left  every  minister  to  his  own  liberty, 
botri  in  common,  as  well  as  occasional  worship,  and 
administration  of'  the  sacraments  ;  they  enjoined  no 
habits  (tliat  was  left  to  the  king's  disposal),  though 
they  generally  wore  black  gowns  and  bands  ;  they 
halt  no  god-fathers  and  god-mothers,  nor  the  cross  in 
baptism  ;  they  required  no  ring  in  marriage,  nor  gen- 
ufiuxion  in  trie  eucharist,  unless  the  comiiuinieant 
pleased.  They  did  not  demand  subscription  to  the 
old  and  first  confession  of  the  reformers,  but  conniv- 
ed at  the  Westminister  confessions  and  catechisms  ; 
they  enjoined  no  holydays,  and  observed  but  few. 
For  the  exercise  of  discipline  they  had  synods,  and 
also  presbyteries,  where  candidates  for  onlers  and 
institution  were  examined;  who  also  had  cognizance 
of  all  ecclesiastical  eases,  under  the  inspection  and  re- 
view of  the  diocesan.  There  were  very  few  sine- 
cures;  they  knew  nothing  of  pluralities,  and  very  lit- 
tle of  non-residence.  No  lay-elders  were  admitted 
but  in  every  parish  the  minister  chose  several  of  the 
most  note(f  inhabitants,  like  a  select  vestry,  to  assist 
him  in  parochial  discii)line,  which  in  effect  were  as 
ruling  elders,  though  not  admitted  as,  or  allowed  to 
be,  gospnl  officers.  .So  inihilgcut  were  the  governors 
and  other  great  men,  that  in  many  ])arisbrs  presl)yte- 
rian  ministers  (if  they  would  but  pray  for  the  king, 
which  divers  of  them  would  not  do)  were  allowed  to 
officiate  in  the  churches,  and  receive  the  whole 
rofils,  without  being  any  ways  accountable  to  the 
ishop,  or  ecclesiastical  establishment,  on  any  sccre 
whatsoever." 
•  See  Burnet's  Vindication,  &c.  Fourth  Conference 


sc 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCIIRISHOr  LEIGIITON 


from  such  an  instruuicnt  being  divulged. 
Among  others,  it  would  tciul  to  cireuiiiscribe 
the  coucessions  ho  eoiiUl  make  lo  the  cove- 
Kianters,  ami  would  straiten  him  in  the  exer- 
cise of"  that  discretionary  power  with  which 
lie  was  apinirently  intrusted.  To  jiroclaim 
the  meditated  extent  of  the  royal  liberality, 
was  in  fact  to  lay  a  restraint  upon  it ;  since  it 
could  not  well  overpass  the  limit  it  had  pub- 
licly prescribed  to  itself,  witiiout  incurring 
tlie  disgrace  i  f  having  been  forced  beyond 
its  siiontaneons  issue.  However,  it  was  im- 
possible for  Leighton  to  refuse  the  demand, 
without  falling  under  the  suspicion  which 
Would  have  been  fatal  to  his  further  proceed- 
ings, that  he  was  designedly  leaving  open  a 
way  of  retreat  from  the  performance  of  ex- 
torted promises.  On  taking  leave  of  the 
ministers,  he  requested  them  to  lose  no  time 
in  pre[iaring  a  final  answer,  as  one  would  in 
all  i)robabilily  be  called  for  by  the  end  of 
Jaiuiary. 

1  he  meeting  took  place  accordingly  at  the 
house  of  Lord  Rothes,  where  this  tedious 
trealv  was  concluded  by  Hutchinson,  in  the 
name  of  the  whole  fraternity,  returning  this 
"short  and  dry  answer,"  as  Leighton  desig- 
nates it;  "We  are  not  free  in  conscience  to 
close  with  the  propositions,  made  by  the 
bishop  of  Dunblane,  as  satisfactory."  Leigh- 
ton begged  for  an  explicit  statement  of  their 
reasons  for  persisting  in  a  course  so  contrary 
to  the  peace  and  welfare  of  the  church  ;  but 
the  jiresby  terian  representatives  excused 
themselves  iVum  all  argument  on  the  subject. 
Being  requested  to  submit  propositions,  on 
their  part,  which  might  furnish  a  hopeful 
basis  for  a  fresh  negotiation,  they  declined 
the  invitation  on  the  plea  that  their  senti- 
ments were  already  before  the  world  ;  there- 
by signifying  that  nothing  would  satisfy 
them,  short  of  the  utter  extinction  of  episco- 
pacy. The  archbishop  perceiving  that  no 
terms  w^ould  be  accepted  by  this  untractable 
race,  delivered  himself,  before  the  assembly 
broke  up,  at  considerable  length  and  with 
energetic  solemnity.  He  unfolded  the  mo- 
tives by  which  he  had  been  actuated  in  set- 
ting afloat  this  negotiation,  and  in  still  ur- 
ging it  fjrward,  when  wave  upon  wave  was 
driving  it  back.  "  My  sole  object  has  been 
to  procure  peace,  and  to  advance  the  interests 
of  true  religion.  In  following  up  this  object 
I  have  made  several  proposals  which  I  am 
fully  sensible  involved  great  diminutions  of 
the  just  rights  of  episcopacy.  Yet,  since  all 
church  power  is  intended  for  edification,  and 
not  for  destruction,  I  thought  that,  in  our 
present  circumstances,  epis'.opacy  might  do 
more  for  the  prosperity  of  'Jhrist's  kingdom 
by  relaxing  some  of  its  jus'  ^elensions,  than 
It  could  by  keeping  hold  ;f  all  its  rightful 
authority.  It  is  not  from  my  mistrust  of  the 
soundness  of  our  causv  ,hat  I  have  offered 
these  abatements  ;  for  am  well  convinced 
that  episcopacy  has  subsisted  from  the  apos- 
tolic age  of  the  c'  ur       Perhaps  I  may  have 


wronged  my  own  order  in  making  such  large 
concessions;  but  the  unerring  Discerner  of 
hearts  will  justify  my  motives  :  and  I  hope 
ere  long  to  stand  excused  with  my  own 
brethren.  You  have  thought  fit  to  reject  our 
overtures,  witlu>ut  assigning  any  reason  for 
the  rejection,  and  without  suggesting  any 
healing  measures  in  the  room  of'  ours.  The 
continuance  of  the  divisions,  through  which 
religion  languishes,  must  conseiiueiilly  lie  at 
your  door.  Before  God  and  man  I  wash  my 
hands  of  whatever  evils  may  result  from  the 
rupture  of  this  treaty.  I  have  done  my  ut- 
most to  repair  the  temple  of  the  Lord  ;  and 
my  sorrow  will  not  be  embittered  by  com- 
punction, should  a  flood  of  miseries  hereafter 
rush  in  through  the  gap  you  have  refused  to 
assist  me  in  closing." 

Thus  did  the  bark  unhappily  founder, 
which  was  freighted  with  the  treasures  of 
religious  ])eace  and  concord.  It  was  not  as- 
suredly owing  to  unskilful  pilotage,  for  noth- 
ing could  surpass  the  prudence,  the  knowl- 
edge, and  the  fortitude,  dis])layed  by  the 
apostolic  man  who  was  sealed  at  the  helm. 
But  the  vessel  was  not  ccjually  happy  n.  ill 
who  had  a  share  in  its  management :  and  it 
had  to  contend  with  such  a  current  of  na- 
tional feelings,  of  selfish  passions  and  re- 
ligious enthusiasm,  as  was  only  to  be  counter- 
acted by  perfect  harmony  in  counsel  and  Ac- 
tion, Nothing  can  be  conceived  more  frank 
and  magnanimous  than  the  conduct  of  Leigh- 
ton was  throughout  his  transactions  with  the 
dissentient  clergy  :  in  his  own  account  of  the 
accommodation,  the  extent  of  his  offers  is 
thus  stated : — 

"It  was  declared  to  them,  that  the  differ- 
ence between  us  should  be  freely  referred  to 
the  Scriptures  first  of  all,  and  next  to  the 
judgment  and  practice  of  the  primitive 
church  ;  and  to  the  whole  catholic  Christian 
church  in  succeeding  ages  :  and  to  the  most 
fiimous  and  most  leading  persons  of  the  late 
Reformation,  as  Calvin,  laither,  Mclancthon; 
yea,  and  to  the  reformed  churches  abroad, 
even  to  those  that  at  present  have  no  bish- 
ops ;  and  last  of  all  to  the  presbytcrians  of  Eng- 
land ;  and  that,  if  from  all  these,  or  any  of 
these,  they  could  justify  their  continuing 
divided,  even  after  these  offers  made,  then  it 
should  be  yielded  to  them  as  a  thing  reason- 
able. Yea,  the  person  that  prtjpounded  this 
further  oflered  them,  that  if,  before  the  noble 
and  judicioiis  persons  then  present,  or  that 
should  be  present  at  the  time  of  such  a  con- 
ference, they  should  produce  strong  and  clear 
reasons  for  their  opinion  and  practice  in  thia 
point  of  difference,  as  now  it  stands  qualified, 
he  would  forthwith  resign  his  present  station 
and  becoine  their  proselyte,  and  would  unite 
and  act  with  them,  and  if  he  were  called  to 
it,  would  suffer  with  them."* 

It  sometimes  happens  that  measures,  which 
owed  Hieir  birth  lo  a  dangerous  crisis,  and  al 
the  moment  were  highly  beneficial,  are  con* 
•  Wodrow  MSS.,  vol.  xxxiv.,  4to,  Art,  15. 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


31 


rerted  into  sources  of  enormous  evil  by  the 
folly  which  bids  them  to  expire  with  the 
crisis ;  as  thouijh  what  had  proved  useful  as 
a  temporary  expedient,  must  needs  be  salu- 
tary as  a  permanent  institution.  It  is  strange- 
ly forgotten  that  the  drug,  which  is  an  in- 
valuable specific  for  particular  diseases, 
would  make  a  very  bad  article  of  diet ;  and 
that  nothing  can  be  worse  suited  for  domes- 
tic dress  than  the  coat  of-mail,  although  it 
is  of  excellent  service  in  the  field  of  battle. 
That  notable  compact,  the  League  and  Cove- 
nant, affords  a  specimen  of  this  mischievous 
error.  Notwithstanding  it  coniained  some 
very  objectionable  clauses,  it  was  at  its  rise  of 
real  utility,  in  shielding  the  protestant  con- 
federacy from  the  revenge  of  the  discomfited 
papists.  But  the  terrible  objurations,  within 
which  it  was  intrenched  for  the  purpose  of 
securing  its  immortality,  and  wliich  went  to 
bind  it  on  future  generations,  changed  it  into 
a  snare  and  a  pest,  into  a  imrse  of  strife  and 
sedition ;  and  into  a  baiVrier  against  peace, 
the  moment  it  ceased  to  be  a  l)ond  of  con- 
cord. It  was  on  this,  indeed,  that  the  treaty 
with  Leighton  mainly  hitched.  After  hp  had 
proved  that  no  rule  of  Scripture  forbids  the 
appointment  of  a  bishop  to  be  the  constant 
president  in  synods  ;  that  the  fixed  presidency 
of  the  bishops  in  synods  has  as  good  warrant 
as  the  fixed  moderation  of  a  presbvter  in 
kirk  sessicjns,  and  of  ruling  elders  ;  that  the 
New  Testament  nowhere  enjoins,  directly  or 
by  implication,  a  parity  of  presbyters,  but 
seems  favorable  to  a  regular  subordination  of 
ecclesiastical  offices;  that  neither  the  name 
of  bishop,  as  conferred  on  the  su[)erior  pres- 
byter, nor  yet  the  manner  of  consecrating 
him  to  his  office,  can  be  offensive  to  sober- 
minded  Christians;  and  that  while  the  de- 
gree of  authority  vested  in  the  bishops  va- 
ried with  varying  circumstances,  yet  some 
such  special  and  pre-eminent  power  as  was 
now  claimed,  exors  quondam  atijue  eminens 
polestax,  appeared  from  the  annals  of  the 
prirnitive  church,  and  the  canons  of  the  most 
ancient  councils,  t(j  have  always  lodged  with 
certain  individuals: — when  Leighton  had 
proved  all  this  by  reasonings  with  which  it 
was  inconvenient  to  grapple,  the  prcsbyte- 
riaiis  took  shelter  under  the  solemn  oath, 
which  forbade,  to  use  iheir  own  ex|)ression, 
"  a  hoof,  or  so  much  as  a  hair  of  the  Scottish 
model  to  be  altered."  It  was  vain  to  allege 
the  illegality  of  their  covenant,  and  the  duU' 
of  renouncing  an  enffagernent,  which  must 
be  criminal,  if  it  precluded  such  alterations 
as  the  oracles  of  God  demanded.  It  was 
vain  to  insist  that  a  door  for  modification  and 
amendment  had  been  intentionally  left  open 
by  the  very  framers  of  the  covenant.  Noth- 
ing was  to  be  done  with  these  stiffnecked 
disputants.  The  covenant,  the  covenant,  was 
the  watchward,  by  which  party  spirit,  should 
It  have  slackened  for  a  moment,  was  instnnt- 
1/  strung  10  its  original  rigor  ;  and  the  flames 
01  fanaticism  which  had  been  slaked  bv  the 


pathetic  eloquence  of  Leighton,  dropping  oa 
them  "  as  the  gentle  ram  from  heaven," 
quickly  broke  out  anew,  and  raged  with  re- 
doubled and  desperate  violence. 

We  have  had  occasion  to  expose  the  punc- 
tilious cavillings  of  the  nonconlbrmists. 
Leighton  has  lelt  his  opinion  on  record  ihat  the 
failure  of  the  negotiation  was  mainly  owing 
to  the  "  interest  and  affectation  of  continuing 
a  divided  party  ;''  yet  he  candidly  allowed 
that  "  they  had  more  honest  hearts  among 
them,  than  strong  heads."  But,  as  it  Avould 
be  a  great  mistake  to  deny,  on  the  one  hand, 
that  a  large  share  of  conscientious,  disinter- 
ested, and  high-minded  feeling  was  inter- 
mingled with  sentiments  of  a  baser  leaven, 
so,  on  the  other  hand,  it  ought  not  to  be  dis- 
sembled, that  the  character  of  most  of  the 
episcopalian  leaders  was  far  from  claiming 
the  esteem  and  confidence  of  their  opponents. 
The  most  ardent  promoters  of  the  accomoda- 
tion, and  among  them  the  king,  were  men 
whom  it  were  dotage  to  imagine  under  the 
influence  of  religious  principle  ;  and  the 
whole  project  was  undisguisedly  detested  by 
the  bench  of  bishops,  and  by  the  mass  of  the 
episcopalian  clergy.  Under  these  circum- 
stances the  jealousy  of  the  covenanters  ad- 
mits of  some  palliation.  They  might  appre- 
hend that,  however  sincere  Leighton  him- 
self was,  they  still  had  no  guarantee  for 
those  stipulations  being  fulfilled,  the  execu- 
tion of  which  depended  on  others  more  than 
on  himself  They  might  fear  that  ej)isco- 
pacy,  like  the  Vishnu  of  Hindostaii,  if,  by 
creeping  in  under  a  pigmy  form,  it  should 
wheedle  them  out  of  just  room  enough  to 
stand  upon,  would  straightway  dilate  into  a 
giant  bulk,  touch  the  heavens  with  its  head 
and  "bestride  the  narrow  world,"  and  tread 
to  the  dust  that  venerable  structure  witlyn 
the  pale  of  which  it  had  been  rashly  admit- 
ted. Possessed  with  these  terrors,  which 
they  would  naturally  scruple  to  acknowledge, 
and  driven  back  from  one  possession  to  an- 
other by  the  persevering  condescension  of 
Leighton,  they  were  compelled  to  make  a 
last  stand  behind  jntiful  subterfuges.  In  the 
meantime  their  jealf)usies  and  resentments 
were  kept  alive  by  the  violences  which  were 
proceeding  all  round  the  narrow  circle,  in 
which  the  treaty  was  under  discussion.  A 
wise  arid  honest  policy  would  have  suspend- 
ed all  severities.  It  would  have  hushed  the 
storm  of  persecution  wliich  was  so  unpro- 
pitious  to  calm  deliberation  and  amicable 
convention.  But,  instead  of  this  being  done, 
there  came  forth  in  the  very  crisis  of  the  ne- 
gotiation, an  atrocious  bill  against  conven- 
ticles, contrived  to  pass  harmlessly  over  the 
heads  of  Roman  catholics,  but  to  alight  with 
deadly  force  on  protestant  nonconformists. 
This  edict  was  hurried  through  parliament 
with  such  indecent  haste,  that  Leighton  was 
not  aj)prized  of  ii,  till  the  time  to  opjxise  it 
wns  past.  But,  true  to  hi's  manly  inde[)en- 
dence,  he  expostulated  severely  ujion  it  with 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


Lord  T'wecdale,  and  declared  that  the  ivliole  | 
ci)in|>li'xion  of  it  was  so  coutran-  to  the  coiii- 
luou  rules  of  humanity,  not  to  say  Cliristian- 
ity,  tliat  he  was  ashamed  to  mix  in  council 
with  the  contrivers  and  ahettors  of  such  acts. 

It  would  he  more  curious  than  useful,  to 
speculate  on  the  prohal)le  duration  and  utility 
of  an  ecclesiastical  constitution,  adjusted  to 
the  ideas  of  the  Archbishop  of  (Hasgow. 
No  doubt,  in  a  church,  connected,  as  ours  is, 
with  the  civil  government,  there  would  be  a 
tendency  in  the  episcopal  part  of  such  a  con- 
stitution to  supplant  the  prcsbyterian.  Yet 
might  not  meiuis  be  devised  for  checking  en- 
croachments, and  for  constantly  restoring  the 
system,  before  it  had  been  seriously  injured  ? 
It  may  perhaps  be  permitted  to  those  who 
think,  with  Leighlon,  that  neither  one  nor 
another  outward  frame  of  the  church  is  ab- 
solutely essential  to  its  integrity  and  useful- 
ness, to  lament  that  the  experiment  was  not 
made,  of  so  blending  the  prcsbyterian  with 
the  episcopal  economy  as  to  produce  some- 
thing nearer,  than  subsists  in  the  British  isl- 
ands, to  the  primeval  pattern.  To  suppose 
this  impossible  is  to  make  a  supposition, 
which  both  reason  and  experience  disclaim. 
There  is  nothing  in  simple  episcopacy  that 
tends  to  despotism,  beyond  what  obtains  in 
every  other  form  of  government,  not  except- 
ing forms  of  the  most  democratical  aspect  ; 
nothing  beyond  what  results  from  that  ambi- 
tious propensity  of  our  nature,  which  consti- 
tutional barriers  may  keep  down,  but  which 
is  always  laboring  upward.  The  spirit  of 
domination  may  be  more  concentrated  and 
apparent  in  the  Anglican  church,  than  in  the 
Scottish,  without  being  more  abundant  and 
hurtful.  The  fact  is,  that  in  every  kind  of 
regimen  there  are  certain  connatural  impuri- 
ties, from  which  it  can  never  be  thoroughly 
aefecated.  You  may  scum  for  ever,  but 
fresh  scum  will  still  be  rising,  till  the  liquor 
is  wholly  exhausted.  Some  risk  must  be 
run  notwithstanding  all  our  safeguards  ;  some 
feculence  remain  after  all  our  refining.  But 
it  is  the  triumph  of  political  wisdom,  to  pro- 
duce with  the  smallest  risk  of  the  least  con- 
siderable evils  the  largest  sum  of  public  ben- 
efit. That  this  praise  belongs  to  episcopacy 
has  often  been  shown  with  great  cogency  of 
argument  ;  and  could  that  form  of  polity  be 
in  some  decree  restored  to  its  ancient  sim- 
plicity, the  church  might  be  expected,  under 
its  shelter  and  superintendence,  to  attain  the 
highest  perfection  of  which  an  earthly  church 
is  capable. 

Some  observations  of  Leighton  on  the 
faulty  state  of  the  Anglican  church,  though 
peculiarly  applicable  to  his  own  times,  are 
such  as  may  even  now  be  pondered  with  ad- 
vantage. Bishop  Burnet  has  told  us,  that  he 
looked  on  the  state  of  the  English  church 
with  very  melancholy  reflections  ;  for,  while 
he  fully  admitted^that,  in  respect  to  doctrine 
and  worship,  and  the  main  part  of  govern- 
ment, it  was  the  best  constituted  church  ir» 


the  world  ;  yet,  in  poii.t  of  actual  adminis- 
tration, it  was  one  of  the  most  dclVctive.  In 
discipline,  which  he  held  to  be  a  matter  of 
prime  importance,  it  was,  he  aflirmed.  infe- 
rior to  the  corrupt  church  of  Rome  itself 
He  also  dei)lored  the  hasty  and  incautious  or- 
dniation  of  ministers,  whose  qualifications 
for  the  office  had  not  been  asceriained  :  and 
he  regarded  as  a  porieiiious  evil  the  insuf- 
ficiency of  many  livings  for  the  inainienance 
of  their  incumbents,  whereby  it  appears  that 
some  of  the  clergy  in  the  north  of  England 
were  driven  to  keep  alehouses,  the  very  nier 
"  who  should  have  strenuously  endeavored 
to  keep  themselves  and  others  out  of  iJicm." 
Nor  did  the  conduct  of  the  spiritual  courts  in 
those  times  esca[)e  his  severe  animadversion. 

Leighton 's  advancement  to  Glasgow  seens 
not  to  have  dissolved  his  connexion  with  his 
former  diocess  ;  and  his  constant  attachment 
to  its  clergy  is  strikingly  manifested,  in  the 
following  pastoral  Ijctter  to  the  synod  of  Diui- 
blane : — 

"Glasgow,  April  6,  ,671. 
"Reverend  Brethren :  The  superadded 
burden  that  I  have  here  sits  so  heavy  upon 
me,  that  I  can  not  escape  from  under  it,  to  be 
with  you  at  this  time,  but  my  heart  and  de- 
sires shall  be  with  you,  for  a  blessing  from 
above  upon  your  meeting.  I  have  nothing 
to  recoramcnd  to  you,  bui  (if  you  please)  to 
take  a  review  of  things  formerly  agreed  upon, 
and  such  as  you  judge  most  useful,  to  renew 
the  appointment  of  putting  them  in  practice  ; 
and  to  add  whatsoever  further  shall  occur  to 
your  thoughts,  that  may  promote  the  happv 
discharge  of  your  ministry,  and  the  good  of 
your  people's  souls.  I  know  I  need  not  re- 
mind you,  for  I  am  confident  you  daily  think 
of  it,  that  the  great  princij)le  of  fidelity,  and 
diligence,  and  good  success,  in  that  great 
work,  is  love  ;  and  the  great  spring  of  love 
to  souls,  is  loA'e  to  him  that  bought  them. 
He  knew  it  well  himself:  and  gave  us  to 
know  it,  when  he  said,  "Simon,  lovest  thou 
me  ?  Feed  my  sheep,  feed  my  lambs."  Deep 
impressions  of  his  blessed  name  upon  oiir 
hearts  will  not  fail  to  produce  lively  expres- 
sions of  it,  not  only  in  our  words  and  dis- 
courses, in  private  and  public,  but  will  maLe 
the  whole  track  of  our  lives  to  be  a  true 
copy  and  transcript  of  his  holy  life.  And  if 
there  be  within  us  any  sparks  of  that  divine 
love,  you  know  the  best  way,  not  only  to  pre- 
serve them,  but  to  excite  them,  and  blow 
them  up  into  a  flame,  is  by  the  breath  of 
prayer.  Oh  prayer  !  the  converse  v'^f  the  soul 
with  God,  the  breath  of  God  in  man  return- 
ing to  its  original,  frequent,  and  fervent  pray- 
er, the  better  half  of  our  whole  work,  and 
I  that  Avhich  makes  the  other  lialf  lively  and 
effectual :  as  that  holy  comirany  tells  us, 
]  when  appointing  deacons  to  serve  the  tables, 
they  add,  "  But  we  will  give  ourselves  con- 
[  tinually  to  prayer,  and  the  ministry  of  the 
j  word."  And  is  it  not,  brethren,  ourunspeak- 
I  able  advantage,  beyond  all  the  gainful  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


33 


;ionorable  employments  of  the  world,  that 
the  whole  work  of  our  particular  calling  is  a 
kind  of  living  in  heaven,  and  besides  its  ten- 
dency to  the  saving  of  the  souls  of  others,  is 
all  along  so  proper  and  adapted  to  the  puri- 
fying and  saving  of  our  own  ?  But  you  will 
possibly  say,  what  does  he  himself  that 
speaks  these  things  unto  us?  Alas!  lam 
ashamed  to  tell  you.  All  I  dare  say  is  this : 
I  think  I  see  the  beauty  of  holiness,  and  am 
enamored  with  it  though  I  attain  it  not ;  and 
how  little  soever  I  attain,  would  rather  live 
and  die  in  the  pursuit  of  it,  than  in  the  pur- 
suit, yea,  or  in  the  possession  and  enjoyment, 
though  unpursued,  of  all  the  advantages  that 
this  world  afTords.  And  I  trust,  dear  breth- 
ren, you  are  of  the  same  opinion,  and  have 
the  same  desire  and  design,  and  follow  it 
both  more  diligently,  and  with  better  suc- 
cess. But  I  will  stop  here,  lest  I  should  for- 
get myself,  and  possibly  run  on  till  I  have 
wearied  you,  if  I  have  not  done  that  already : 
and  yet  if  it  be  so,  I  will  hope  for  easy  par- 
don at  your  hands,  as  of  a  fault  I  have  not 
been  accustomed  to  heretofore,  nor  am  likely 
hereafter  often  to  commit.  To  the  all-pow- 
erful grace  of  our  great  Lord  and  Master,  I 
recommend  you,  and  your  flocks,  and  your 
whole  work  among  them ;  and  do  earnestly 
entreat  your  prayers  for 
"  Your  un worthiest,  but  most  affectionate, 
"  Brother  and  Servant, 

"  Pi..  Leighton." 

Some  time  after  the  negotiation  with  the 
nonconformists  had  gone  off,  Leighton  was 
required  by  a  royal  mandate  to  assist  the 
Lords  of  the  Council  in  nominating  proper 
men  to  four  vacant  sees.  Nairn,  Charleris, 
and  Burnet,  were  the  persons  he  fixed  upon 
to  fill  three  of  them ;  and  he  was  seriously 
distressed  to  find  these  clergymen  resolute  in 
rejecting  the  appointment.  At  first  he  was 
disposed  not  to  recommend  any  others,  since 
those  whom  he  considered  most  eligible  re- 
fused to  bring  their  shoulder  under  the  bur- 
den. But,  on  matureconsideration,  he  thought 
it  his  duty  rather  to  present  the  best  qualified 
persons  who  could  be  induced  to  undertake 
It,  than  to  leave  the  appointment  in  hands, 
not  apt  to  administer  power  to  the  advantage 
of  true  religion. 

Another  fet^ble  attempt  was  made  by  the 
Duke  of  Lauderdale,  in  tlie  year  1672,  to  re- 
duce the  turbulence  of  the  covenanters,  by 
executing  the  measure  that  Burnet  had  long 
before  suggested,  of  placinij  the  discarded 
ministers  in  parishes  by  couples.  The  Arch- 
bishop of  Glasgow  had  already  expressed 
his  approbation  of  this  scheme,  aptly  com- 
paring it  to  "  gathering  into  the  chimney, 
where  they  might  burn  safely,  the  coals  that 
were  scattered  over  the  house  and  setting  it 
all  on  fire."  The  time,  however,  for  reprcs- 
airg  the  spirit  of  recusancy  was  gone  by. 
Dissent  was  now  exasperated  into  faction  ; 
and  had  the  times  been  more  favorable,  it 
5 


would  still  have  required  a  hand  less  way- 
Avard  and  inconstant  than  Lauderdale's,  to 
impress  a  new  form  on  the  stubborn  soul  of 
presbyterianism. 

Leighton  now  considered  his  work  over  : 
and  began  to  think  of  withdrawing  from  a 
post,  which  it  seemed  impossible  to  retain 
with  advantage  to  the  church.  While  h,e 
had  made  no  way  with  the  nonconforrmists 
by  his  earnest,  his  affectionate,  and  it  might 
almost  be  said,  his  humiliating  advances,  we 
have  seen  that  his  colleagues  were  ready  to 
brand  him  with  treachery  to  their  cause, 
and  more  than  insinuated  that  he  plotted  the 
overthrow  of  the  constitution.  The  indulged 
ministers,  also,  and  some  others,  among 
whom  was  Robert  Law,  from  whose  memo- 
rials I  have  collected  the  fact,  occasioned  him 
much  uneasiness  by  their  disorderly  and  se- 
ditious proceedings ;  and,  indeed,  by  actual 
immoralities,  which  went  to  such  a  length, 
that  he  was  obliged,  in  December,  1673,  to 
send  a  deputation,  with  a  formal  complaint 
against  iliem  to  the  Privy  Council.  All 
these  crosses  and  disappointments  were  re- 
garded by  Leighton,  as  so  many  providential 
intimations  to  relinquish  an  employment, 
wherein  he  was  doing  no  service  to  the 
church,  while  sacrificing  all  his  personal 
comfort.  Anguish  was  drinking  up  his  spirit, 
without  benefit  to  the  cause  of  religion.  Ac 
cordingly,  he  rigorously  canvassed  the  legal 
ity  of  abdicating  his  ofTice :  he  found  out 
several  instances  of  bishops  who  had  taken 
that  step  and  gone  into  retirement ;  and  at 
length  he  fully  satisfied  himself  that  the  law 
of  God  did  not  require  him  to  retain  his  bish 
opric,  when  the  business  of  it  was  but  t& 
consume  its  revenues  in  stately  indolence. 
On  scrutinizing  his  own  heart,  he  could  not 
perceive  that  he  was  prompted  to  this  meas- 
ure by  successive  disgusts,  by  impaliencd  of 
the  cross,  by  wounded  pride,  by  secret  indigo- 
nation  at  Providence,  or  by  his  natural  pro- 
pensity to  a  quiet,  studious,  and  contempla-. 
tive  privacy.  Was  it  not  a  duty,  rather  than 
a  fault,  to  renounce  a  position  of  anxious  dig- 
nity, and  barren  of  usefulness,  for  one  more- 
favorable  to  prayer  and  meditation,  to  com- 
munion with  (rod,  and  to  preparation  for 
eternity  ?  He  was  now  growing  old  and  in- 
firm ;  he  had  need  to  respire  from  over- 
whelming fatigues  ;  and  well  could  he  adopt 
for  his  motto  the  sentence  of  Buchanan, 
"  SenecluLe  fraclus,  portum  exoptan.'!."  The 
dressing  and  undressing  of  his  soul,  as  he 
used  to  call  devotional  exercises,  was  the 
business  to  which  his  few  remaining  days- 
ought  to  be  consecrated  ;  and  he  "  longed  to 
escape,  if  only  into  the  air  ainong  the  birds," 
from  the  ungrateful  service  which  he  had 
not  declined,  when  summoned  to  it  by  the 
exigencies  of  the  church  ;  but  from  which 
he  held  himself  discharged,  now  that  it  was 
become  evident  that  no  good  could  ensue 
from  his  remaining  in  it. 

We  can  hardly  doubt  that  Leighton  had 


^4 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


been  long  lookinjj  out  for  the  moment,  when 
he  n.iiilit  iiululiie,  witliout  violence  to  his 
conscience,  his  disposition  to  seclusion  from 
the  world.  The  following  letter  to  his  sis- 
ter, I\lrs.  Lightniaker,  ajiparently  in  the  lat- 
ter part  of  his  episcopacy,  lets  us  into  his 
feelings  on  this  subject  :— 

'  "  Dear  Sister  :  I  was  strangely  surprised 
to  sec  the  bearer  here.  What  could  occasion 
It  1  do  not  yet  understand.  At  parting  he 
earnestly  desired  a  line  to  you,  wiiich  with- 
out his  desire  luy  own  affection  would  have 
carried  me  to,  if  I  knew  what  to  say  but 
what  I  trust  you  do :  and  'tis  that  our  joint 
business  is  to  die  daily  to  this  world  and  self, 
that  what  little  remains  of  our  life  we  may 
live  to  Him  that  died  for  us.  For  myself,  to 
what  purpose  is  it  to  tell  you,  what  the 
bearer  can,  that  I  grow  old  and  sickly  ;  and 
though  I  have  here  great  retirement,  as  great 
and  possibly  greater  than  I  could  readily  find 
anywhere  else,  yet  I  am  still  panting  after  a 
retreat  from  this  place  and  all  public  charge, 
and  next  to  rest  in  the  grave.  It  is  the  pres- 
singest  desire  I  have  of  anything  in  this 
world  ;  and,  if  it  might  be,  with  you,  or 
near  you.  But  our  heavenly  Father,  we 
quietly  resigning  all  to  him,  both  knows  and 
will  do  what  is  best.  Remetnber  my  kind- 
est affection  to  your  son  and  daughter,  and  to 
Mr.  Sidertin,  and  pray  for 

"  Your  poor  weary  brother, 

"R.  L." 

"  Dunblane,  April  19^/i." 

This  letter  is  dated  from  Dunblane,  where 
le  seems  to  have  mostly  resided,  after  the 
reaty  of  accommodation  came  to  nothing, 
in  this  retreat,  to  which  he  was  very  partial, 
jhere  is  said  to  be  still  in  existence  a  shady 
avenue  called  "  The  Bishop's  Walk  ;"  a  name 
which  it  took  from  the  practice  of  the  vener- 
able Lcighton  to  pace  up  and  down  it,  when 
he  wished  to  join  bodily  exercise  with  spir- 
itual meditation.  It  was  probably  from 
there  that  he  issued  the  following  apostolic 
charge  to  the  Synod  of  Glasgow,  which  he 
met  for  the  last  time  on  the  eighth  day  of  the 
following  December. 

Letter  to  the  Synod  of  Glasgow,  convened 
Ajml,  1673. 
"Reverend  Brethren:  It  is  neither  a 
matter  of  much  importance,  nor  can  I  yet 
give  you  a  particular  and  satisfactory  ac- 
count of  the  reasons  of  my  absence  from 
your  meeting,  which  I  trust,  with  the  help 
of  a  little  time,  will  clear  itself:  but  I  can 
assure  you,  I  am  present  with  you  in  my 
most  affectionate  wishes  of  the  gracious 
presence  of  that  Holy  Spirit  among  you,  and 
within  you  all,  who  alone  can  make  this  and 
all  your  meetings,  and  the  whole  work  of 
your  ministry,  happy  and  successful,  to  the 
good  of  the  souls,  and  His  glory  that  bought 
them  with  his  own  blood.  And  I  doubt  not, 
that  your  own  great  desire  each  for  yourself, 


and  all  for  one  another,  is  the  same  ;  and 
that  your  daily  and  great  employment  is,  by 
incessant  and  fervent  prayer,  to  draw  down 
from  above  large  supplies  and  increases  oi 
that  blessed  S|)irit,  Avliich  our  Lord  and  Mas- 
ter hath  assured  us  that  our  heavenly  Father 
will  not  iail  to  give  to  them  thai  ask  it.  And 
how  extreme  a  negligence  and  folly  wersiil 
to  want  so  rich  a  gift  for  want  of  asking, 
especially  in  those  devoted  to  so  high  and 
holy  a  service,  that  requires  so  great  degrees 
of  that  spirit  of  holiness  and  Divine  love  to 
purify  their  minds,  and  to  raise  them  above 
their  senses  and  this  present  world  !  Oh  ! 
my  dear  brethren,  what  are  we  doing,  that 
suffer  our  souls  to  creep  and  grovel  on  this 
earth,  and  do  so  little  aspire  to  the  heavenly 
life  of  Christians,  and  more  eminently  of  the 
messengers  and  ministers  of  God,  as  stars, 
yea,  as  angels,  which  he  hath  made  spirits, 
and  his  ministers  a  *'ame  of  fire  !  Oh ! 
where  are  souls  to  be  ibund  among  us,  that 
represent  their  own  original,  that  are  pos- 
sessed with  pure  and  sublime  apprehensions 
of  God,  the  Father  of  s])iriis,  and  are  often 
raised  to  the  astonishing  contemplation  of 
his  eternal  and  blessed  being,  and  his  infinite 
holiness,  and  greatness,  and  goodness  ;  and 
are  accordingly  burnt  up  with  ardent  love  ! 
and  where  that  holy  fire  is  wanting,  there 
can  be/io  sacrifice,  whatsoever  our  invention, 
or  utterance,  or  gifismay  be,  and  how  blame- 
less soever  the  externals  of  our  life  may  be, 
and  even  our  hearts  free  from  gross  pollutions; 
for  it  is  scarce  to  be  suspected,  that  any  of  us 
will  suffer  any  of  those  strange,  yea,  infernal 
fires  of  ambition,  or  avarice,  or  malice,  or 
impure  lusts  and  sensualities,  to  burn  within 
us,  which  would  render  us  priests  of  idols, 
of  airy  nothings,  and  of  dunghill  dogs,  yea, 
of  the  very  god  of  this  world,  the  prince  oi 
darkness.  Let  men  judge  us  and  revile  us  as 
thev  please,  that  imports  nothing  at  all ;  but 
God  forbid  anvthing  should  possess  our  hearts 
but  He  that  loved  us,  and  gave  himself  for 
us  ;  for  we  know  we  can  not  be  vessels  of 
honor  meet  for  the  master's  use,  unless  we 
purge  ourselves  from  all  filthiness  of  flesh 
and  sp'  ■  d  empty  our  hearts  of  all  things 
besid(  .  and  even  of  ourselves  and  our 
own  wui,  and  have  no  more  any  desires  noi 
delights,  but  his  will  alone,  and  his  glory, 
who  is  our  peace,  and  our  life,  and  our  all. 
And,  truly,  I  think  it  were  our  best  and  wi- 
sest reflection  upon  the  many  difficulties  and 
discouragements  without  us,  to  be  driven  by 
them  to  live  more  within  ;  as  they  observe 
of  the  bees,  that  when  it  is  foul  weather 
abroad,  they  are  busy  in  their  hives.  If  the 
power  of  external  discipline  be  enervated  in 
our  hands,  yet  who  can  hinder  us  to  try,  and 
judge,  and  censure  ourselves  ;  and  to  purge 
the  inner  temples,  our  own  hearts,  with  the 
more  severity  and  exanness  ?  And  if  we  be 
dashed  and  bespattered  with  reproaches 
abroad,  to  study  to  be  the  cleaner  at  home  ; 
i  and  the  less  we  find  oi  meekness  and  :haruy 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


35 


in  the  world  abc  at  us,  to  preserve  so  much  ' 
the  more  of  ihat  sweet  temper  within  our 
own  hearts  ;  blessing  them  that  curse  us,  and 
praying  for  them  that  persecute  us  :  so  shall 
we  most  effectually  prove  ourselves  to  be  the 
children  of  our  heavenly  Father,  even  to  their 
conviction  that  will  scarce  allow  us,  in  any 
sense,  to  l)e  called  his  servants. 

"^s  for  the  confusions  and  contentions 
that  still  abound  and  increase  in  this  church, 
and  threaten  to  undo  it,  I  think  our  wisdom 
shall  be,  to  cease  from  man,  and  look  for  no 
help  till  we  look  more  upward,  and  dispute  i 
and  discourse  less,  and  fast  and  pray  more  ; 
and  so  draw  down  our  relief  from  the  God  ■ 
of  order  and  peace,  who  made  the  heavens 
and  earth.  i 

"  Concerning  myself,  I  have  nothing  to  ! 
say,  but  humbly  to  entreat  you  to  pass  by  j 
the  many  failings  and  weaknesses  you  may 
have  perceived  in   me   during   my  abode  ; 
among  you;  and  if  in  anything  I  have  in-! 
jured  or  offended  you,  or  any  of  you,  in  the 
management  of  my  public  charge,  or  in  pri- 
vate converse,  I  do  sincerely  beg  your  par-  ! 
don :  though,  I  confess,  I  can  not  make  any  1 
requital  in  ihat  kind  ;  for  I  do  not  know  of  , 
anything  toward  me,  from  any  of  you,  that 
needs  a  pardon  in  the  least  ;  having  generally 
paid  me  more  kindness  and  respect,  than  a 
much  better  or  wiser  man  could  either  have 
expected  or  deserved.    Nor  am  I  only  a  suiter 
for  your  pardon,  but  for  the  addition  of  a  fur- 
ther charity,  and  that  so  great  a  one,  that  I 
have  nothing  to  plead  for  it,  but  that  I  need 
it  much — your  prayers.    And  I  am  hopeful 
as  to  that,  to  make  you  some  little,  though 
very  disproportioned  return  ;  for  whatsoever 
becomes  of  me  (through  the  help  of  God),  I 
while  I  live,  you  shall  be  no  one  day  of  my 
life  forgotten  by 

"Your  most  unworthy,  but  most  affectionate 
"  Brother  and  Servant, 

"  R.  Leightox." 

"  P.  S.  I  do  not  see  whom  it  can  offend,  or 
how  any  shall  disapprove  of  it,  if  you  will 
appoint  a  fast  throughout  your  bounds,  to  en-  I 
treat  a  blessing  on  the  seed  committed  to  the 
ground,  and  for  the  other  grave  causes  that 
are  still  the  same  as  they  were  the  last  year, 
and  the  urgency  of  them  no  whit  abated,  but 
rather  increased  :  but  in  this  I  prescribe 
nothing  but  leave  if  to  your  discretion,  and 
the  direction  of  God." 

The  account  is  brief,  which  Burnet  has 
given,  of  the  last  steps  of  this  holy  man's 
episcopal  career.  He  repaired  to  court,  and 
there  tendered  to  Lauderdale  the  resignation 
of  his  dignities.  At  first  the  duke  resolutely 
opposed  this  motion,  but  wasat  last  prevail- 
ed upon  to  obtain  the  king's  consent  in  wri- 
ting for  the  archbishop's  retirement  at  the  j 
expiration  of  a  year,  if  his  own  mind  should 
not  have  undergone  a  chansfo  within  that  pe- 
riod, as  Lauderdale  expected  would  be  the  , 


case.  The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  royal 
engagement : — 

"  Charles  R. 

"  It  is  our  will  and  pleasure,  that  the 
present  archbishop  of  Glasgow  do  continue  in 
that  station  for  one  whole  year  ;  and  we 
shall  allow  liberty  to  him  to  retire  from 
thence  at  the  end  of  that  time. 

"  Given  at  our  court,  at  Whitehall,  the  ninth 
of  August,  1G73  ;  and  of  our  reign,  the  twen- 
ty-fifth year.   By  his  majesty's  command." 

Having  gained  this  point,  Leighton  went 
back  delighted,  and  observed  to  Burnet,  that 
"  there  was  now  but  one  uneasy  stage  be- 
tween him  and  rest,  and  he  would  wrestle 
through  it  the  best  he  could."  Accordingly, 
no  sooner  was  the  year  completed,  than  he 
hastened  up  to  London,  and  laid  down  his 
archbishopric,  which  was  restored  to  its  for- 
mer possessor.  Dr.  Alexander  Burnet.  After 
his  resignation,  he  resided  for  a  short  time  in 
the  college  of  Edinburgh,  whence  he  retired 
to  Broadhursl,  a  demesne  in  the  parish  of 
Horsted  Keynes,  Sussex,  belonging  to  his  sis- 
ter, the  widow  of  Edward  Lightmaker,  Esq.  ; 
and  with  her  he  continued  till  his  death. 

The  slightest  notice  is  more,  perhaps,  than 
ought  to  be  bestowed  on  the  account  which 
Robert  Law  has  penned  of  the  transaction 
just  narrated:  since  to  those  who  have  the 
least  acquaintance  with  Leighton's  charac- 
ter, it  must  appear  on  the  face  of  it  to  be  an 
absurd  slander.  It  is  pretended,  that  the 
archbishop  never  meant  to  descend  from  his 
station  ;  but  Lauderdale,  whom  he  had  offend- 
ed, persuaded  the  king  to  take  in  good  earn- 
est his  hypocritical  resignation,  notwithstand- 
ing the  utmost  efforts  of  Sir  Ellis  and  other 
court  friends  to  avert  that  catastrophe.  Thus 
was  the  poor  archbishop,  as  this  shameless 
story-teller  would  have  it  believed,  over- 
reached in  his  own  craftiness. 

Dismissing  this  conienii)til)le  fabrication, 
and  along  with  it  another  idle  tale,  that  his  ob- 
ject was  to  exchange  his  Scotch  bishopric 
f(jr  one  in  England,  we  may  advert  to  an  ac- 
count which,  if  not  quite  correct,  yet  is  prob- 
ably not  ((uite  devoid  of  truth. 

The  account  is  that  Leighton,  finding  his 
authority  in  the  diocesan  synod  of  Glasgow 
but  weak,  while  he  administered  that  see  un- 
der the  title  of  commendator,  procured  him- 
self to  be  elected  archbishop  on  the  27th  of 
October,  1671  ;  but  the  Duke  of  Lauderdale 
did  not  ratify  the  election  by  the  king's  let- 
ters patent,  as  is  usually  done  in  such  cases. 
Some  have  supposed  that  this  disgusted 
Leighton,  and  determined  or  hastened  his 
resignation.  Lauderdale  tried  at  first  to  di- 
vert him  from  this  stej)  ;  but  when  that  crafty 
minister  was  endangered  by  a  vote  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  it  occurred  to  him  thai 
he  might  gain  over  the  ejiiscopal  bench  to 
his  side,  and  thus  ward  off  an  impeachment, 
by  making  u^e  of  Leighton's  resignatioM, 
which  was  left  in  iiis  hands,  anu  c^'  rt  Bst^- 


36 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


tinjT  Burnet,*  v.^ose  deprivation  liad  given  i 
niurlal  olVence  to  llie  English  hislujps. 

It  is  very  creditable  tliat  Lauderdale  was 
mdu:ed  by  these  considerations  to  accept  the  j 
rosiicnation,  which  he  would  otherwise  have 
steadily  refused,  although  it  could  hardly  be 
disagreeable  to  him,  as  Leighton  never  stoop- 
ed to  solicit  his  favor,  and  seldom  appeared 
at  his  levees.  But  this  admission  will  no- 
wise impugn  the  archbishop's  since'"ity  in 
making  the  tender.  The  reasons  for  resigning, 
which  he  himself  assigned  in  a  paper  that  has 
appeared  in  Bower's  History  of  the  Universi- 
ty of  Edinburgh,  will  find  ready  credit  with 
fair  and  thinking  men  ;  inasmuch  as  they 
perfectly  accord  with  the  general  tone  of  his 
mind,  of  his  life  and  conversation.  They  are 
the  following : — 

"  Whatsoever  others  may  judge,  they  that 
know  what  passed  before  iny  engaging  in 
this  charge  will  not  (I  believe)  impute  my 
retreat  from  it  to  levity  or  unfixedness  of 
mind,  considering  how  often  I  declared  be- 
forehand, both  by  word  and  writing,  the 
great  suspicions  I  had  that  my  continuance 
in  it  would  be  very  short  ;  neither  is  it  from 
any  sudden  passion  or  sullen  discontent  that 
I  have  now  resigned  it ;  nor  do  I  know  any 
cause  imaginable  for  any  such  thing  ;  but 
the  true  reasons  of  my  retiring  are  plainly 
and  brietly  these : 

"  1.  The  sense  I  have  of  the  dreadful 
weight  of  whatsoever  charge  of  souls,  and 
all  kind  of  spiritual  inspection  over  people,  but 
much  more  over  ministers,  and  withal  of  my 
own  extreme  unworthiness  and  unfitness  for 
so  high  a  station  in  the  church  ;  and  there  is 
an  episcopal  act  that  is  above  all  others  formi- 
dable to  me — the  ordaining  of  ministers. 

"  2.  The  continuing  and  daily  increasing 
divisions  and  contentions,  and  many  other 
disorders  of  this  church,  and  the  little  or  no 
appearance  of  their  cure  for  our  time  ;  and 
as  little  hope  amidst  those  contentions  and 
disorders,  of  doing  anything  in  this  station 
to  promote  the  great  design  of  religion  in  the 
hearts  and  lives  of  men,  which  were  the  only 
reason  of  continuing  in  it,  though  it  were 
with  much  pains  and  reluctance. 

"  3.  The  earnest  desire  I  have  long  had  of 
a  retired  and  private  life,  which  is  now 
much  increased  by  sickliness  and  old  age 
drawing  on,  and  the  sufficient  experience  I 
have  of  the  folly  and  vanity  of  the  world. 

"To  add  any  further  discourse,  a  large 
apology  in  this  matter  were  to  no  purpose  : 
but  instead  of  removing  other  mistakes  and 
misconstructions,  would  be  apt  to  expose  me 
to  one  more  ;  for  it  would  look  like  too  much 
valuing  either  of  myself  or  the  world's  opin- 
ion, both  which  I  think  I  have  so  much  rea- 
son to  despise." 

Of  the  habits  and  employments  of  this 

•  This  bishop  was  translated  to  St.  Andrew's  af- 
ter thn  assassination  of  Arohbisliop  Sharp,  which  took 
place  on  tlip  tliird  day  of  .May,  A.  D.  1679,  on  Magus 
Moor.    He  died  on  the  24th  of  August,  1684. 


man  of  God,  during  the  sequel  of  his  h  "e,  ther« 
remain  but  few  particulars.  Some  interest- 
ing notices,  however,  of  his  general  conver- 
sation, which  are  mostly  gleaned  from  hi 
nephew's  letter  to  the  bishop  of  Salisbury, 
the  pen  of  biography  will  not  be  employed 
amiss  in  recording. 

We  have  seen  that  it  was  his  purpose,  in 
divorcing  hirtlself  from  the  world,  to  give  up 
the  remnant  of  his  days  to  secret  and  tran- 
quil devotion.  Having  spent  his  prime  ia 
the  active  duties  of  his  profession,  and  in  the 
service  of  his  fellow-creatures,  he  saw  no  im- 
propriety, but  rather  a  suitableness,  in  conse- 
crating his  declining  years  more  immediately 
to  God  ;  and  in  making  the  last  stage  of 
earthly  existence  a  season  of  unintermitted 
preparation  for  the  sc.»ie,  upon  which  he 
was  to  enter  at  the  end  of  his  journey.  Ac- 
cordingly he  lived  in  great  seclusion  :  and 
abstained,  to  the  utmost,  that  charity  and 
courtesy  would  allow,  from  giving  and  re- 
ceiving visits.  Let  it  not  be  supposed,  how- 
ever, that  he  withdrew  from  ministerial  em- 
ployments. After  disburdening  himself  of 
the  episcopal  dignity,  he  again  took  to  the 
vocation  of  a  parish  minister,  and  was  con- 
stantly engaged  at  Horsted  Keynes,  or  one  of 
the  neighboring  churches,  in  reading  prayers 
or  in  preaching.  In  the  peasant's  cottage, 
likewise, 

 "  his  tongue  dropt  manna  :" 

and  long  after  his  decease  he  was  talked  of 
by  the  poor  of  his  village  with  afiectionate 
,  reverence.  With  deep  feeling  would  they 
i  recall  his  divine  counsels  and  consolations  ; 
his  tenderness  in  private  converse  ;  and  the 
impressive  sanctity  which  he  carried  into  the 
solemnities  of  public  worship. 

Leighton  was  not  by  nature  morose  and 
ascetic  :  yet  something  of  a  cloisteral  com- 
plexion appears  to  have  been  wrought  in  him 
by  the  character  of  the  times,  and  by  the 
scarcity  of  men  like-minded  with  himself.  He 
plunged  into  the  solitudes  of  devotion,  with 
a  view  to  escape  from  the  polluting  com- 
merce of  the  world  ;  to  gain  the  highest 
places  of  sacred  contemplation,  and  to  main- 
tain perpetual  intercourse  with  heaven. 

That  he  was  no  friend  to  monastic  seclu« 
sion  is  certain.  He  reckoned  the  greater 
number  of  the  regular  clergy  in  Roman  Cath- 
olic countries,  to  be  little  belter  than  ignavt 
fures,  rapacious  drones  ;  at  the  same  tima 
that  he  recognised  among  them  a  few  speci 
mens  of  extraordinary  growth  in  religion  ; 
and  thought  he  had  discovered  in  the  piety 
of  some  conventual  recluses  a  peculiar  and 
celestial  flavor,  which  could  hardly  be  met 
with  elsewhere.  Of  their  sublime  devotion 
he  often  spoke  with  an  admiration  approach- 
ing to  rapture  ;  and  much  he  wished,  that 
the  sons  of  a  purer  faith  and  discipline  could 
match  them  in  that  seraphic  strength  and 
swiftness  of  wing,  by  which  they  soared  to 
the  topmost  branches  of  divine  contemplation, 
and  cropped  the  choicest  clusters  of  heavenly 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOl'  LEIGHTON. 


37 


fruitage,  "  It  is  not,"  he  would  say,  "  the 
want  of  religious  houses,  but  of  spiritual 
hearts,  lliat  glues  the  wing  of  our  affections, 
and  hinders  the  more  frequent  practice  of 
this  leading  precept  of  the  divine  law, — fer- 
vently to  lift  up  our  souls  unto  God,  and  to 
have  our  conversation  in  heaven."  His  opin- 
ion was  that  a  mixed  life,  or,  as  he  beautiful- 
ly termed  it,  an  angelical  life,  was  the  most 
excellent ; — a  life  spent  between  ascending 
to  fetch  blessings  from  above,  and  descend- 
ing to  scatter  them  among  mortals.  Would 
Christians  retreat  occasionally  from  the  dizzy 
whirl  and  tumult  of  life,  and  give  themselves 
time  to  think,  they  might  become  enamored 
of  those  beauties  which  lie  above  the  natu- 
ral ken  on  the  summit  of  God's  holy  moun- 
tain. Some  of  the  prelates  and  fathers  of 
the  first  ages  had,  according  to  his  notions, 
hit  the  happy  medium ;  and,  by  mingling 
pastoral  ministrations  with  devotional  retire- 
ment, had  earned  a  better  meed  than  is  due 
to  the  votaries  of  a  severe  and  unprofitable 
solitude. 

Of  the  devotion  which  mingled  with  his 
own  life,  flowing  easily  from  a  wellspring  of 
divine  love  in  his  soul,  it  would  be  hard  to 
speak  extravagantly.  Prayer  and  praise  were 
his  business  and  his  pleasure.  His  manner 
of  praying  was  so  earnest  and  importunate, 
as  proved  that  his  soul  mounted  up  to  God  in 
the  flame  of  his  oral  aspirations.  Although 
none  was  ever  less  tainted  with  a  mechani- 
cal spirit  in  religion,  yet  he  denied  that  the 
use  of  written  forms  put  to  flight  the  power 
of  devotion  ;  and  he  himself  occasionally 
used  them  with  an  energy  and  feeling,  by 
which  his  hearers  were  powerfully  excited. 
To  the  Lord's  prayer  he  was  particularly 
partial,  and  said  of  ii,  "  Oh,  the  spirit  of  this 
prayer  would  make  rare  Christians!"  Con- 
sidering prayer,  fervent,  frequent,  interces- 
sory prayer,  to  be  a  capital  part  of  the  cleri- 
cal office,  he  would  repeat  with  great  appro- 
bation that  apophthegm  of  a  pious  bishop — 
*'  Necesse  est,  non  ut  mullitm  lf:<(ornii.f,  sed  ut 
mullum  oremus."  This  he  accounted  the 
vessel,  with  which  alone  living  water  can  be 
drawn  from  the  well  of  Divine  mysteries. 
Without  it,  he  thought,  the  application  of 
the  greatest  human  powers  to  theology  would 
turn  out  a  laborious  vanity  :  and  in  support 
of  this  opinion  he  adduced  the  confession  of 
Erasmus,  tii#t,  when  he  began  to  approach 
the  verities  of  celestial  wisdom,  he  tliouirht 
he  understood  them  pretty  well:  but  after 
much  study  of  commentators,  he  was  in- 
finitely more  perplexed  than  before.  Witii 
■what  a  holy  emphasis  would  Leijjhton  ex- 
claim, in  commenting  upon  those  words  of 
David,  "  Thou,  0  God,  has  taught  me"— 
"  Non  bnmines,  nec  cnmuetudo,  nec  indnxlria 
mea,  sed  hi,  dncitisti." 

It  is  not,  however,  to  be  imagined  that  this 
great  prelate,  who  was  himself  one  of  the 
most  learned  men  of  a  very  learned  age,  un- 
dervalued human  erudition.    On  the  con- 


trary, he  greatly  encouraged  it  in  nis  clergy  ; 
and  has  been  heard  to  declare  that  tliero 
could  not  be  too  much,  if  it  were  but  sancti- 
fied. But  then  he  set  far  higher  store  by 
real  piety  :  and  would  remark,  with  a  felici- 
tous introduction  of  a  passage  from  Seneca, 
"  Non  opus  est  inultis  Uteris  ad  bonain  mentem, 
but  to  be  established  in  grace  and  replenish- 
ed with  the  spirit."  Pointing  to  his  books 
one  day,  he  said  to  his  nephew, — "One  de- 
vout thought  is  worth  them  all  ;"  meaning, 
no  doubt,  that  no  accumulation  of  knowl- 
edge is  comparable  in  value  with  internal 
holiness. 

Of  his  delight  in  the  inspired  volume  the 
amplest  proof  is  afforded  by  his  writings, 
which  are  a  golden  weft,  thickly  studded 
with  precious  stones  from  that  mine,  in  beau- 
tiful arrangement.  How  would  he  lament 
that  most  people,  instead  of  feeding  upon 
scriptural  truths,  instead  of  ruminating  on 
them  leisurely  and  prolonging  the  luxury  as 
skilful  epicures  would  do,  rather  swallowed 
them  down  whole  like  bitter  pills,  the  taste 
of  which  is  industriously  disguised  !  His 
French  bible,  now  in  the  library  of  Dun- 
blane, is  marked  in  numerous  places  ;  and 
the  blank  leaves  of  it  are  filled  with  extracts 
made  by  his  own  pen  from  Jerome,  Chrysos- 
tom.  Gregory  Nazianzen,  and  several  other 
fathers.  But  the  bible,  which  he  had  in 
daily  use,  save  yet  stronger  testimony  to  his 
intimate  and  delightful  acquaintance  with  its 
contents.  With  the  book  of  Psalms  he  was 
parti(;ularly  conversant,  and  would  some- 
times style  it  by  an  elegant  ajiplication  of  a 
scriptural  metaphor,  "a  bundle  of  myrrh, 
that  ouffht  to  lie  day  and  night  in  the  bo- 
som."* "  Scarce  a  line  in  that  sacred  psalter," 
writes  his  nephew,  "  that  hath  passed  with- 
out the  stroke  of  his  pencil." 

To  him  the  sabbath  was  a  festive  day  ; 
and  he  would  repair  to  God's  house  with  a 
willing  spirit  when  his  body  was  infirm. 
One  rainy  Sunday,  when  through  indisp(;si- 
lioii  he  was  hardly  eijual  to  going  abroad,  he 
still  persisted  in  attending  ciiurch,  and  said, 
in  excuse  for  his  apparent  rashness,  "  Were 
the  weather  fair  I  would  stay  at  home,  but 
since  it  is  foul  I  must  go  ;  lest  I  be  thought 
to  countenance,  by  my  example,  the  irreli- 
gious practice  of  letting  trivial  hinderances 
keep  us  back  from  public  worship." 

Averse  as  he  was  to  parade  of  all  kinds, 
and  especially  to  dizening  out  religion  in 
modish  draperies,  yet  he  was  not  for  shroud- 
ing her  in  a  gloomy  cowl,  and  cx{)osing  her 
to  needless  scorn,  as  he  thought  the  quakers 
did,  by  dressing  her  with  "a  hood  and 
bells."  It  way  his  wish  to  see  pul)lic  wor- 
ship so  ordered  as  to  exclude  superfluous  or 
nament,  while  it  preserved  those;  sober  de- 
cencies, which  at  once  protect  the  majesty 
of  reliifion,  and  help  to  keep  awake  a  devouf 
spirit  in  the  worshipper. 

It  may  have  appeared  to  some  of  my  read- 
•  Song  of  Solomon,  chap.  i.  v.  13. 


S8 


fHE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


ers,  that  Leightou's  lalitudinai  ian  views  on  | 
the  subject  of  ecclosiastical  [lolity  border-  ( 
ed  upon  the  roiiiaiuii-,  and  were  iitisuiuililc 
to  the  present  iiaperfect  state  of  tlie  Cbiis- 
li.m  cbureh.    But  it  is  due  to  hiui  not  to  for- 
get, that  he  was  an  inexorable  enemy  to  lax- 
ity and  disortler  ;  and  maintained  the  neces- 
sity of  a  regular  and  exact  adminisiratit)n  of 
the  church,  altiuiu<;ii  lie  was  comparatively  | 
indilVereiit  aboui  the  form  of  ihal  adminis- 
traiion,  if  it  did  but  ensure  a  good  supply  for 
the  religious  wants  of  the  people.    "  The 
mode  of  church  government,"  he  would  say, 
"  is  immaterial ;  but  peace  and  concord,  kind- 
ness and  goodwill,  are  indisjiensable.    But  ' 
alas,  1  rarely  find,  in  these  days,  men  nerved  j 
with  a  holy  resolution  to  contend  for  the  sub- 
stance more  than  for  the  ceremony  ;  and  dis-  j 
posed  in  weak  and  indilferent  things  to  be 
weak  and  compliant."    Among  such  things 
he  classed  those   points    of  discipline,  on 
which  the  dissenters  stood  out,  declaring  that 
"  he  could  not  in  earnest  find  them  to  amount 
to  more." 

The  religion  of  this  pre-eminent  saint  was 
incorporated  with  the  whole  frame  of  his 
life  and  conversation.  This  gave  a  peculiar- 
ity, which  was  striking  and  impressive,  to 
many  of  his  ordinary  actions.  They  were 
the  same  things  which  other  men  did,  but 
ihey  were  done  in  another  manner,  and  bore 
the  shining  print  of  his  angelic  spirit.  So 
impressively  was  this  the  case,  that  his 
nephew,  when  a  little  child,  struck  with  his 
reverential  manner  of  returning  thanks  after 
a  meal,  observed  to  his  mother,  that  "  his 
uncle  did  not  give  thanks  like  other  f(jlk." 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  Christianity, 
in  the  days  of  its  youthful  vicor,  gave  birth 
to  a  more  finished  pattern  than  f^eighion  of 
the  love  of  holiness.  It  was  truly  his  reign- 
mg  passion  ;  and  his  longing  to  depart  hence 
grew  out  of  an  intense  desire  to  be  transformed 
into  the  divine  likeness.  "  To  be  content  to 
stay  always  in  this  world,"  he  observed,  "  is 
above  the  obedience  of  angels.  Those  holy 
spirits  are  employed  according  to  the  perfec- 
tion of  their  natures,  and  restlessness  in 
hymns  of  praise  is  their  only  rest :  but  the 
utmost  we  poor  mortals  can  attain  to,  is  to 
lie  awake  in  the  dark,  and  a  great  piece  of 
art  and  patience  it  is,  sjuitiosnm  fiillere  noc- 
leni.^^  Often  would  he  bewail  the  proneness 
of  Christians  to  stop  short  of  ibat  jierfection, . 
the  pursuit  of  which  is  enjoined  u])on  us  ; 
and  it  was  his  grief  to  observe,  that  even 
good  men  are  content  to  be  "  low  and  stunt- 
ed vines."  The  wish  nearest  his  heart  was, 
to  attain  to  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the 
fulness  of  Christ  ;  and  all  his  singularities, 
for  such  to  our  rejinjach  they  arc,  arose  from 
this  desire  being  in  him  jo  much  more  ardent 
than  it  is  in  ordinary  Christians.  In  the  sub- 
joined letter,  this  nabit  of  mind,  this  insatia- 
ble longing  after  perfect  holiness,  is  finely 
portrayed.  It  was  written  when  he  w^s 
priucipai  of  the  University  of  Edinburgh, 


"  Sir  :  Oh  !  what  a  wearines.=  is  it  to  lix  e 
among  men,  and  (ind  so  few  men  ;  t>nd  anionj 
Christians,  and  find  so  few  Christians ;  ^o 
much  talk  and  so  little  action  ;  religion 
turned  almost  to  a  tune  and  air  o<'  words  ; 
and  amidst  all  our  pretty  discoui  es,  pu- 
sillanimous and  base,  and  so  easilv  drag- 
ged into  the  mire,  self  and  flesh  and  p^-ide 
and  jiassion  domineering,  while  we  spfik 
of  being  in  Christ  and  clothed  with  hn?\, 
and  believe  it,  because  we  speak  it 
ofien  and  so  confidently.  Well,  I  know,  yo*i 
are  not  willing  to  be  thus  gulled  ;  and  hav 
ing  some  glances  of  the  beauty  of  holinesi', 
aim  no  lower  than  perfection,  which  in  thi" 
end  we  hope  to  attain  ;  and  in  the  meanwhile 
the  smallest  advances  toward  it  are  more 
Worth  than  crowns  and  sceptres.  I  believe 
it,  you  often  think  on  these  words  of  the 
blessed  champion  Paul.  (1  Cor.  ix.  24,  &c.) 
There  is  a  noble  guest  within  us.  Oh  !  let 
all  our  business  be  to  entertain  him  honora- 
bly, and  to  live  in  celestial  love  within  ;  that 
will  make  all  things  without  be  very  con- 
temptible in  our  eyes.  I  should  rove  on  did  not 
1  stop  myself,  it  falling  out  well  too  for  that, 
to  be  hard  upon  the  post-hours  ere  I  thought 
of  writing.  Therefore,  '  good  night,'  is  all 
I  add  ;  for  whatever  hour  it  comes  to  your 
hand,  I  believe  you  are  as  sensible  as  I  that 
it  is  still  night :  but  the  comfort  is,  it  draws 
nigh  toward  that  bright  morning  that  shall 
make  amends. 

"  Your  weary  fellow-pilgrim, 
"R.  L." 

It  would  perhaps  be  inexpedient  for  every 
one  to  attain  such  habits  of  religious  abstrac- 
tion, and  to  keep  as  much  aloof  from  the 
world,  as  Leighton  did  in  the  jjeriod  of  his 
life  we  are  now  reviewing.  Indeed,  he  him- 
self expressed  his  conviction,  that  "  a  thor- 
ough practical  belief  of  those  things,  which 
we  all  acknowledge  to  be  true  with  respect 
to  the  eternal  world,  would  hinder  us  from 
buying  and  selling,  and  interfere  with  the 
necessary  business  of  life  ;  or,  at  least,  would 
render  it  an  intolerable  drudgery."  God  is 
therefore  indulgent  to  our  state  and  condi- 
tion, in  not  letting  in  upon  our  minds,  in  gen- 
eral, more  vivid  views  of  futurity.  Never- 
theless, it  is  of  incalculable  advantage  to 
have  before  our  eyes  some  bright  examples 
of  saints  who  have  outstripped  ^heir  compet- 
itors, and  have  gained  the  summit  of  the 
hill,  up  which  the  train  of  feebler  pilgrims  is 
still  f  linfully  toiling.  Such  extraordinary 
proficients  in  the  life  and  power  of  godliness 
are  the  salt  of  the  earth,  to  keep  it  from  cor- 
ruption. They  rebuke  the  slackness  of  those 
half-hearted  home-sick  mariners,  who  stand 
off  and  on,  wistfully  eying  the  shore  from 
which  they  have  reluctantly  parted,  instead 
of  launching  into  the  deep,  and  making  sail 
for  a  better  country.  They  prevent  a  scan- 
dalous depression  of  the  standard  of  Chris- 
tian  piety  ;  they  animate  the  despondent  to 
hope  and  perseverance ;  and  tLey  exhibit, 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


39 


with  a  demonstration  which  puts  to  shame  j 
the  cavils  of  the  skeptic,  the  superiority  of 
Christian  philosophy,  in  the  formation  of  j 
character,  to  the  most  elaborate  systems  of  j 
human  ethics.  I 

Of  the  effectual  eloquence  of  Leighton's  i 
^eat  example,  a  striking  instance  is  adduced 
in  Mr.  Edward  Lightmaker's  letter.  The 
writer's  father,  after  witnessing  the  holy  and 
mortified  life  of  this  eminent  saint,  became 
sensible,  that  a  man  is  in  no  safe  condition 
(or  dying,  unless  he  be  strivmg  after  the 
highest  degrees  of  piety.  "If  none  shall  go 
to  heaven,"  he  exclaimed,  "  but  so  holy  a 
man  as  this,  what  will  become  of  me  ?"  Un- 
der these  impressions  he  very  much  with- 
drew from  the  world  ;  relinquished  a  profita- 
ble business,  because  of  its  dangerous  entan- 
glements ;  and  made  the  care  of  his  ultimate 
felicity  his  chief  occupation. 

Such  consequences  might  well  be  expect- 
ed to  flow  from  an  intimacy  with  Leighton, 
for  his  discourse  breathed  the  spirit  of  heav- 
en. To  no  one,  perhaps,  do  the  exquisite 
lines  of  the  Christian  poet  Cowper  more  ac- 
curately apply  : — 

"  When  one,  that  liolds  communion  witli  the  skies, 
Has  filled  his  urn  where  these  pure  waters  rise, 
And  once  more  miii<?les  with  us  meaner  things, 
'Tis  e'en  as  if  an  an'.rcl  shook  his  wings  ; 
Immortal  fragrance  fills  the  circuit  wide. 
That  tells  us  whence  his  treasures  are  supplied." 

He  seldom  discoursed  on  secular  matters, 
without  happily  and  naturally  throwiiii,''  in 
some  spiritual  reflections  ;  and  it  was  his 
professed  opinion,  that  nothing  takes  off  more 
from  the  authority  of  ministers  and  the  efli- 
cacy  of  their  message,  than  a  custom  of  vain 
and  frivolous  conversation.  Indeed,  "  he  had 
brought  himself  into  so  composed  a  gravity," 
writes  his  first  bioirraphcr,  "  that  I  never  saw 
him  laugh,  and  but  seldom  smile  ;  and  he 
kept  himself  in  such  a  constant  recollection, 
that  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  heard  him 
say  one  idle  word.  He  seemed  to  be  in  a 
perpetual  meditation."  Although  he  was 
not  at  all  given  to  sermonize,  yet  any  little 
incident,  that  fell  under  his  observation, 
would  cause  some  pious  sentiment  to  drop 
fromhirn;  just  as  the  sliirhtest  motion  makes 
a  brimful  gublet  run  over.  Meeting  a  blind 
beggar  on^  day,  he  observed,  "Methinks 
this  poor  sufTercr  cries  out  in  behalf  of  the 
whuU^  luirnan  race,  as  its  representative  :  and 
let  what  he  so  earnestly  craves  be  given  him, 
as  readily  as  (rod  bestows  a  cure  on  the  spir- 
itually blind  who  ask  it." — "  It  is  extremely 
severe,"  said  his  sister  to  him,  speaking  of 
the  season.  "But  thou,  0  God,  hast  made 
summer  and  winter,"  was  bis  devout  reply. 
Some  one  saying,  "  You  have  been  to  hear 
a  sermon:"  "I  met  a  sermon,"  was  his 
answer,  "  a  sermon  /le  facto,  for  I  met  a 
corpse  ;  and  rightly  and  profitably  are  the 
funeral  rites  observed,  when  the  living  lay  it 
to  heart."    Thus  he  endeavored  to  derive 


spiritual  good  out  of  every  passing  i  rcum- 
stance,  and  to  communicate  good  to  oth'^TS. 

In  a  soul  so  full  of  heaven  there  was  little 
room  for  earthly  attachments.  Indeed,  the 
whole  tone  of  his  discourse,  and  the  constant 
tenor  of  his  life,  evinced  his  detachment,  not 
only  from  pomps,  and  riches,  and  delicacies, 
but  from  what  are  usually  esteemed  to  be 
common  comforts  and  necessaries.  To  his 
judument  the  middle  condition  of  life  best 
approved  itself.  "  Better  to  be  in  the  midst," 
were  his  words,  "  between  the  two  pointed 
rocks  of  deep  penury  and  high  prosperity, 
than  to  be  on  the  sharps  of  either."  But  his 
choice,  to  quote  his  own  emphatic  expression, 
was  to  choose  nothing,  and  he  left  it  to  a 
better  wisdom  than  his  own  to  carve  out  his 
earthly  lot.  "  If  we  are  born  to  worldly 
greatnesses,  let  us  even  take  them,  and  en- 
deavor to  make  friends  with  them  who  shall 
stand  us  in  good  stead  when  we  are  put  out 
of  our  stewardship :  but  to  desire  that  our 
journey  should  be  by  the  troublesome  and 
danijerous  road  of  worldly  prosperity,  is  a 
mighty  folly."  He  was  pleased  with  an  in- 
genious similitude  of  Dr.  Sale's,  who  com- 
pares the  good  things  of  this  life  to  mush- 
rooms, which  need  so  many  precautions  in 
eating,  that  wholly  to  waive  the  dish  is  the 
safest  wisdom. 

To  corporal  indulgences  none  was  ever 
more  indifferent.  Indeed  he  practised  a  rigor- 
ous abstemiousness,  keeping  three  fasts  in  the 
week,  and  one  of  them  always  on  the  Sun- 
day :  not  from  a  superstitious  esteem  of  the 
bodilv  penance,  but  in  order  to  make  the 
sou!  lifjlit  and  active  for  the  enjoyment  of 
that  sacred  festival.  His  nephew  thinks 
that  he  injured  his  health  by  excessive  ab- 
stinence :  but  his  own  maxim  was,  "  that 
little  eatinof,  and  little  speaking,  do  no  one 
any  harm  ;"  and  he  would  say  pleasantly 
when  dinner  was  announced,  "  Well,  since 
we  are  condemned  to  this,  let  us  sit  down." 
His  notions  of  the  moderation,  which  Chris- 
tians ought  to  exercise  at  the  table,  will 
be  generally  accounted  extravagant.  When 
his  sister  once  invited  him  to  eat  of  a 
particular  dish,  extolling  it  as  very  good,  he 
declined  it,  saying,  "  What  is  it  good  for, 
but  to  please  a  wanton  taste?  One  thing 
forborne  is  better  than  twenty  things  taken." 
"  Bui,"  answered  Mrs.  rJi,'htinak('r,  "  why 
were  these  thini;s  bestowed  upon  us?"  "To 
see,"  he  rejoined,  "  bow  well  we  could  for- 
bear them  ;"  and  then  added,  "  Shall  I  eat 
of  this  delicacy,  while  a  poor  ma  a  wants  his 
dinner  ?"  He  thoujht  people  in  general 
much  too  expensive  and  curious  in  the  jjrepa- 
ration  (jf  their  meals,  and  wished  this  do- 
mestic pcofusion  were  turned  into  a  channel 
of  distril)Ution  to  the  poor.  Everything  be- 
yond the  mere  necessaries  of  life  he  termed 
the  overfl.owings  of  a  full  cup,  which  ought 
not  to  run  to  waste,  hut  descend  into  the 
poor  man's  platter.  The  gratiflcalions  of 
bodily  appetite  would  not,  he  was  persuaded, 


40 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


be  so  much  reckoned  on,  if  professed  Chris- 1 
tians  had  more  "  s])iritual  sensuality,"  as  he 
often  lermed  tiiat  ardent  relish,  wliich  is  the  ' 
characteristic  of  rectified  souls,  for  the  meat 
and  drink,  the  hidden  manna,  of  God's  im- 
niiirtal  haiKjuet. 

He  ust  d  to  compare  a  man's  station  in  life 
to  an  imprisoninent,  and  ohserved,  that,  "  al- 
though it  is  l)ecoming  to  keep  the  place  of 
our  confinement  clean  and  neat,  it  were  ill 
done  to  build  upon  it."    His  sister  thinking 
he  carried  his  indilFerence  to  earthly  things 
too  far,  and  that  his  munificence  refjuired 
some  check,  said  to  him  once,  "If  you  had  1 
a  wife  and  children  you  must  not  act  thus." 
His  answer  was,  "  I  know  not  how  it  would  i 
be,  but  I  know  how  it  should  he.    'Enoch  | 
walked   with   God  ; — and   begat  sons  and 
daughters.'  " 

In  truth,  his  liberality  was  boundless.  All 
he  received  was  distributed  to  the  jioor,  ex-  | 
cept  the  bare  pittance  which  his  necessities 
imperiously  demanded  for  himself  Unwil- 
ling, however,  to  gain  any  credit  for  bencti- 
cence,  he  commonly  dispensed  his  bounty 
through  the  hands  of  others,  as  we  learn  ' 
from  Burnet,  who  officiated  as  his  almoner  in  { 
London. 

In  exemplification  of  his  humane  and 
amiable  condescension  to  his  friends  and  de- 
pendants, there  is  an  anecdote,  which  will 
not  disgrace  our  pages.  He  once  had  a  Ro- 
man catholic  servant,  who  made  a  point  of 
abstaining  from  flesh  on  the  fast  days  pre- 
scribed by  the  Romish  calendar.  Leighton, 
being  apprized  of  this,  by  Mrs.  Lightniaker, 
commented  on  the  vanity  of  such  scruples,  i 
yet  requested  her  to  indulge  the  poor  man  j 
with  such  fare  as  suited  his  erroneous  piety,  i 
lest  the  endeavor  to  dissuade  him  from  the 
practice  should  drive  him  to  falsehood  or 
prevarication.  "  For  to  this,"  he  added, 
"many  poor  creatures  are  impelled,  not  so 
much  from  a  corrupt  inclination,  as  for  want 
of  a  handsome  truth."  So  gentle  was  he  in 
his  construction  of  the  faults  and  foibles  of 
others. 

It  is  of  little  moment  to  ascertain,  even 
were  it  possible,  whether  this  be  the  identical 
man-servant,  whose  idle  pranks  have  earned 
him  a  never-dying  fame  in  Dunblane  and  its 
neighborhood.  The  following  story  mav  be 
taken  as  a  sample  of  the  provocations,  with 
which  this  thoughtless  fellow  used  to  try  his 
master's  equanimity.  Having  a  fancy  one 
morning  for  the  diversion  of  fishing,  he  lock- 
ed the  door  of  the  house,  and  carried  off  the 
key,  leaving  his  master  imprisoned.  He 
was  too  much  engrossed  with  liis  sport  to 
think  of  returning  till  the  evening,  when  the 
only  admonition  he  received  for  liis  gross  be- 
havior from  the  meek  bishop,  was,  "  John, 
when  you  next  go  a  fishing,  remember  to 
leave  the  key  in  the  door."  j 

Tlie  whole  history  of  Leighton's  life  pro-  I 
claims  his  abhorrence  of  persecution.    It  is 
re'.a'.ed  that  his  sister  once  asked  him,  at  the  , 


request  of  a  friend,  what  he  thought  was  thi 
mark  of  the  Beast  :  at  tiiesaine  lime  adding, 
"I  told  the  in.quirer  that  you  would  certainly 
answer  you  could  not  tell."  "  Truly  you  saiu 
well,"  replied  Leighton,  "  but,  if  I  might 
fancy  what  it  were,  it  would  be  something 
with  a  pair  of  horns  that  pusheth  his  neigh- 
bor, and  hath  i)een  so  much  seen  and  prac- 
tised in  church  and  state."  He  also  passed 
a  severe  sentence  on  the  Romanists,  "  who, 
in  their  zeal  for  making  proselytes,  fetched 
ladders  from  hell  to  scale  heaven  :"  and  he 
deejjly  lamented,  that  men  of  the  reformed 
church  should  have  given  in  to  similar  meas- 
ures. 

We  have  seen,  in  the  na.rrative  of  his  pub- 
lic conduct,  how  firmly  he  withstood  the  se- 
vere measures  set  afoot  to  produce  a  unifor- 
mity of  worship  in  Scotland.  Swords  and 
halberds,  tongs  and  pincers,  were  very  unfit 
instruments,  in  his  esteem,  for  advancing  the 
science  and  practice  of  religion.  "  The  scrip- 
ture tells  us,  indeed,  of  plucking  out  a  right 
eye  for  the  preservation  of  the  whole  body  ; 
but  if  that  eye  admit  of  a  cure,  it  should  ra- 
ther be  preserved  :  only  lei  "ts  cure  be  com- 
mitted to  the  dexterous  ban.  of  the  kindest 
oculist,  and  not  to  a  mere  oungler,  wlio 
would  mar  instead  of  healing.  For  himself 
he  would  suffer  anything,  rather  than  touch 
a  hair  of  the  head  of  those,  who  labored  un- 
der such  pitiable  maladies,  as  errors  in  faith 
must  be  accounted.  Or,  il'  did  meddle  with 
them,  it  should  be  with  such  a  gentle  touch, 
as  would  prove  tiie  friendliness  of  his  dispo- 
sition and  purpose."  "  I  prefer,"  he  has  been 
heard  to  say,  "an  erroneous  honest  man  be- 
fore the  most  orthodox  knave  in  the  world  ; 
and  I  would  rather  convince  a  man  that  he 
has  a  soul  to  save,  and  induce  him  to  live  up 
to  that  belief,  than  bring  him  over  to  my 
opinion  in  whatsoever  else  beside.  Would 
to  God  that  men  were  but  as  holy  as  they 
might  be  in  the  worst  of  forms  now  among 
us  !  Let  us  press  tluni  to  be  holy,  and  mis- 
carry if  they  can."  Being  told  of  a  person 
who  had  changed  his  persuasion,  all  he 
said  was,  "  Is  he  more  meek  ;  more  dead  to 
the  world  ?  If  so,  he  has  made  a  happy 
change." 

It  is  related  of  him,  that  going  one  day  to 
visit  a  leading  minister  of  the  presbytery,  he 
found  him  discoursing  to  his  company  on  the 
duties  of  a  holy  life.  Leighton,  instead  of 
turning  off"  to  the  subject  of^  the  current  rea- 
sons for  nonconiformity,  though  he  had  gone 
for  the  ex])ress  purpose  of  discussing  them, 
instantly  fell  in  with  the  train  of  conversa- 
tion, and  concluded  his  visit  without  attempt- 
ing to  change  it.  To  some  of  his  friends 
who  remonstrated  with  him  on  this  apparent 
oversight,  "Nay,"  he  replied,  "the  good 
man  .and  I  were  in  the  main  agreed ;  and  for 
the  points  in  which  we  differ,  they  are  mostly 
unimportant  ;  and  though  they  be  of  mo- 
ment, it  is  advisable  before  jtressing  any,  to 
win  as  many  volunteers  as  we  can." 


THE  LIFE  OF  AKCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


41 


This  feature  of  his  character  is  further  il- 
lustrated by  an  anecdote,  which  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe  authentic.  A  friend 
calling  upon  him  one  day,  and  not  meeting 
him  at  home,  learned,  on  inquiry,  that  he 
was  gone  to  visit  a  sick  presbyterian  minister 
on  a  horse  which  he  had  borrowed  of  the 
catholic  priest. 

His  sobriety  of  mind  and  soundness  of 
judgment  ought  not  to  be  passed  over  in  si- 
leace.  These  qualities  were  conspicuous  in 
his  never  pretending  to  develop  the  secret 
things  of  God,  notwithstanding  the  variety 
of  his  learning,  and  his  talent  for  high  specu- 
lation. Instead  of  hazarding  a  guess  on  a 
difficult  point,  to  which  he  had  been  re- 
quested to  turn  his  thoughts,  he  said  to  the  [ 
inquirer,  on  meeting  him  some  time  after- 
ward, "  I  have  not  yet  got  the  lesson  you  set ! 
me."  And  to  his  nephew,  who  complained 
that  there  was  a  certain  text  of  scripture 
which  he  could  not  understand,  his  answer 
was,  "And  many  more  that  I  can  not."  In 
reverently  standing  aloof  from  those  myste-  \ 
ries  of  the  divine  nature  and  governnient,  ' 
which  are  enshrined  in  a  light  no  mortal  eye 
can  gaze  upon  undazzled,  he  discovered  a 
judgment  equal  to  his  modesty,  and  exem- 
plified the  saying  of  Solomon,  that  "  with 
the  lowly  is  wisdom."  Being  once  interro- 
gated about  the  saints  reigning  with  Christ, 
he  tried  to  elude  the  question  by  merely  re- 
plymg,  If  we  suffer  with  him,  we  shall  also  : 
reign  with  him."  Pressed,  however,  to  give 
his  opinion,  whether  or  not  the  saints  would 
exercise  rule  in  the  earth,  although  Christ  j 
should  not  in  person  assume  the  sovereignty, 
he  answered  with  exquisite  judgment,  "If 
God  hath  appointed  any  such  thing  for  us,  i 
he  will  give  us  heads  to  bear  such  liquor :  ' 
our  preferment  shall  not  make  us  reel."  Pry-  i 
ing  into  matters  of  this  nature,  which  the 
spirit  of  God  has  apparently  sealed  up  from 
man's  inquisiliveness,  was,  in  his  estimation, 
indecent  and  dangerous ;  and  he  thought 
that  passionate  curiosity,  which  oTcrleaps 
the  boundaries  of  revelation,  might  be  well 
rebuked  by  the  angel's  answer  to  Manoah, 
"  Why  askest  thou  thus  after  my  name,  see- 
ing it  is  secret?"  "Enough,"  be  said,  "is 
discovered  to  satisfy  us,  that  righteousness 
and  judgment  are  within,  although  round 
about  his  throne  are  clouds  and  darkness  :" 
and  he  blamed  those,  "  who  boldly  venture 
into  the  very  thick  darkness  and  deepest  re- 
cesses of  the  divine  majesty."  "  That  pros- 
pect of  election  and  predestination,"  said  he, 
"  is  a  great  abyss,  into  which  I  choose  to 
sink,  rather  than  attempt  to  sound  it.  And 
truly  any  attempt  at  throwing  light  upon  it 
makes  it  only  a  greater  abyss,  and  is  a  piece 
of  blamable  presumption."  In  conformity 
with  these  sound  views,  he  always  endeav- 
ored, when  principal  of  the  university  of 
Edinburgh,  to  repress  such  perilous  inquiries  ; 
judging  them  of  a  nature  to  mali  e  young  stu- 
dents cc^ceited,  disputatious,  and'skeptical. 


and  to  lead  them  away  from  the  love  of  truth 
and  the  practice  of  piety. 

How  discreet  and  tender  a  counsellor  h" 
was  to  persons  laboring  under  religious  doubts 
and  perplexities,  the  two  following  letters 
bear  witness.  The  first  of  these  is  to  a  lady 
of  q'lality  to  whom  he  was  personally  un- 
known, but  who  seems  to  have  solicited  his 
advice  through  the  intervention  of  a  common 
friend  : — 

"  Madam  :  Though  I  have  not  the  honor 
to  be  acquainted  with  your  ladyship,  yet  a 
friend  of  yours  has  acquainted  me  with  your 
condition,  though,  I  confess,  the  unfittest  of 
all  men  to  minister  anything  of  spiritual  re- 
lief to  any  person,  either  by  prayer  or  advice 
to  you ;  but  he  could  have  imparted  such  a 
thing  to  none  of  greater  secrecy,  and  withal 
of  greater  sympathy  and  tender  compassion 
toward  such  as  are  exercised  with  those  kind 
of  conflicts  ;  as,  having  been  formerly  ac- 
quainted with  tlie  like  myself,  all  sorts  of 
skeptical  and  doubtful  thoughts  touching 
those  great  points,  having  not  only  passed 
throush  my  head,  but  some  of  them  have  for 
sometime  sat  more  fast  and  painfully  upon 
my  mind  ;  but  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  they 
were  at  length  quite  dispelled  and  scattered. 
And  oh  !  that  I  could  love  and  bless  Him, 
who  is  my  deliverer  and  strength,  my  rock 
and  fortress,  where  I  have  now  found  safety 
from  these  incursions  ;  and  I  am  very  confi- 
dent you  shall  shortly  find  the  same ;  only 
wait  patiently  on  the  Lord,  and  hope  in  him, 
for  you  shall  yet  praise  him  for  the  help  of 
his  countenance;  and  it  is  that  alone  that 
can  enlighten  you,  and  clear  your  mind  of 
all  those  fogs  and  mists  that  now  possess  it, 
and  calm  the  storms  that  are  raised  within 
it.  You  do  well  to  read  good  books  that  are 
proper  for  your  help,  but  rather  the  shortest 
and  plainest,  than  the  more  tedious  and  vol- 
uminous, that  sometimes  entangle  a  per- 
])lexed  mind  yet  more,  by  grasping  many 
more  questions,  and  answers,  and  arguments 
than  is  needful :  but  above  all  still  cleave  to 
the  incomparable  spring  of  light  and  divine 
comfort,  the  Holy  vScriptures,  even  in  despite 
of  all  doubts  concerning  them.  And  when 
you  find  your  thoughts  in  disorder  and  at  a 
joss,  entertain  no  dispute  with  them  by  any 
means  at  that  time,  but  rather  divert  from 
them  to  short  prayer,  or  to  other  thoughts, 
and  sometimes  to  well  chosen  company,  or 
the  best  you  can  have  where  you  are  ;  and 
at  some  other  time,  Avhen  you  find  yourself 
in  a  calmer  and  serener  temper,  and  upon  the 
vantage  ground  of  a  little  more  confidence 
in  God,  then  you  may  resume  your  reasons 
against  unbelief,  yet  so  as  to  beware  of  cast- 
ing yourself  into  new  disturbance.  For  when 
your  mind  is  in  a  sober  temper,  there  is  noth- 
ing so  suitable  to  its  strongest  reason,  noth- 
ing so  wise  and  noble  as  religion  ;  and  to 
believe  it  is  so  rational,  that,  as  now  I  am 
framed,  T  am  afraid  that  my  belief  proceeds 


42 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


too  much  fi  :.m  reason,  ana  is  not  so  divine 
and  spiritnal  as  1  would  have  it  ;  only  when 
I  find  (as  in  sonic  measure  through  the  grace 
of  Gud  I  do)  that  it  hath  some  real  virtue 
and  inlluence  uj^m  my  all'ections  and  track  of 
life,  1  hope  there  is  somewhat  of  a  higher 
tincture  in  it.  But,  in  jioint  of  reason  1  am 
well  apsured,  that  all  that  I  have  heard  from 
the  wittiest  atheists  and  libertines  in  the 
world,  is  nothing  hut  bold  ravery  and  mad- 
ness, and  their  whole  discourse  a  heap  of 
folly  and  ridiculous  nonsense.  For  what 
probable  account  can  they  give  of  the  won- 
derful frame  of  the  visible  world,  without 
the  su])position  of  an  eternal  and  infinite 
power  and  wisdom  and  gor,dness  that  formed 
it,  and  themselves,  and  all  things  in  it?  And 
what  can  they  think  of  the  many  thousands 
of  martyrs  in  the  first  age  of  Christianity, 
that  endured  not  simple  death,  but  all  the 
inventions  of  the  most  ex(iuisitc  tortures,  for 
their  belief  of  that  inost  holy  faith,  which, 
if  the  miracles  that  confirmed  it,  had  not 
persuaded  them  so,  they  themselves  had  been 
thought  the  most  prodigious  miracles  of 
madness  in  all  the  world  ?  It  is  not  want 
of  reason  on  the  side  of  religion  that  makes 
fools  disbelieve  it,  but  the  interest  of  their 
brutish  lusts  and  dissolute  lives,  makes  them 
wish  it  were  not  true :  and  there  is  this  vast 
difference  betwixt  you  and  them  ;  they  would 
gladly  believe  less  than  they  do,  and  you 
would  also  gladly  believe  more  than  they 
do  :  ihey  are  sometimes  pained  and  torment- 
ed with  apprehensions  that  the  doctrine  of 
religion  is,  or  may  be,  true  :  and  you  are  per- 
plexed with  suggestions  to  doubt  of  it,  which 
are  to  you  as  unwilling  and  unwelcome,  as 
these  apprehensions  of  its  truth  are  to  them. 
Believe  it,  madam,  these  different  thoughts 
of  yours,  are  not  yours,  but  his  that  inserts 
them,  and  throws  them  as  fiery  darts  into 
your  mind,  and  they  shall  assuredly  be  laid 
to  his  charge,  and  not  to  yours.  Think  you 
that  Infinite  Goodness  is  ready  to  take  advan- 
tage of  his  poor  creatures,  and  to  reject  and 
condemn  those,  that,  against  all  the  assaults 
made  upon  them,  desire  to  keep  their  heart 
for  him,  and  to  acknowledge  him,  and  to  love 
him,  and  live  to  him  ?  He  made  us,  and 
knows  our  mould,  and  as  a  father  pities  his 
children  pities  them  that  fear  him  ;  for  he  is 
their  father,  and  the  tenderest  and  kindest  of 
all  fathers  ;  and,  as  a  father  pities  his  child 
when  it  is  sick,  and  in  the  rage  and  ravery 
of  a  fever,  though  it  even  utter  reproachful 
words  against  himself,  shall  not  our  dearest 
Father  both  forgive  and  pity  those  thoughts 
in  any  child  of  his,  that  arise  not  from  any 
wilful  hatred  of  him,  but  are  kindled  in  hell 
within  them  ?  And  no  temptation  hath  be- 
fallen you  in  this,  nut  that  which  has  been 
incident  to  men,  and  to  the  best  of  men  ; 
and  their  heavenly  father  hath  not  only  for- 
given them,  but  in  due  time  hath  given  them 
a  happv  issue  out  of  them,  and  so  he  will 
issur»'dly  do  to    you.     In  the  meantime, 


when  these  assaults  come  thickest  and  Vj>. 
lenlest  upon  you,  throw  yourself  dowi.  at  his 
footstool,  and  say;  '0  God,  Father  oi  mer- 
cies, save  me  from  this  hell  within  me.  1 
acknowledge,  I  adore,  I  bless  thee,  whose 
I  throne  is  in  heaven,  with  thy  blessed  Son 
and  crucified  J(>sus,  and  thy  Holy  S])irit,  and 
also  though  thou  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in 
thee  :  but  I  can  not  think  thou  canst  hate 
and  reject  a  poor  soul  that  desires  to  love 
thee,  and  cleave  to  thee,  so  long  as  I  can  hold 
by  the  skirts  of  thy  garment  until  thou  vio- 
lently shake  me  off,  which  I  am  confident 
thou  wouldst  not  do,  because  thou  art  love 
I  and  goodness  itself,  and  thy  mercies  endure 
j  for  ever.'  Thus,  or  in  what  other  frame  your 
soul  shall  be  carried  to  vent  itself  into  his 
bosom,  be  assured,  your  words,  yea,  your 
I  silent  sighs  and  breathings  shall  not  be  lost, 
j  but  shall  have  a  most  powerful  voice  and 
;  ascend  into  his  ear,  and  shall  return  to  you 
with  messages  of  peace  and  love  in  due  time, 
and,  in  the  meantime,  with  secret  supports, 
that  you  faint  not,  nor  sink  in  these  dee{)s 
that  threaten  to  swallow  you  up.  But  I  have 
wearied  you  instead  of  refreshing  you.  I 
will  add  no  more,  but  that  the  poor  prayers 
of  one  of  the  unworthiest  caitiffs  in  the  world, 
such  as  they  be,  shall  not  be  wanting  on  your 
behalf,  and  he  begs  a  share  in  yours  ;  for 
neither  you,  nor  any  in  the  world,  need  that 
charity  more  than  he  does.  Wait  on  the 
Lord,  and  be  of  good  courage,  and  he  shall 
strengthen  your  heart :  wait,  I  say,  on  the 
Lord." 

The  next  is  to  some  Christian  friend,  wnose 
name  is  unknown  : — 

"  Christian  Friexb  :  Though  I  had  very 
little  vacant  time  for  it,  yet  I  would  have 
i  seen  you,  if  I  could  have  presumed  it  might 
have  been  any  way  useful  for  the  quieting 
of  your  mind.  However,  since  I  heard  of 
your  condition,  I  cease  not  daily,  as  I  can, 
to  present  it  to  Him,  who  alone  can  effectu- 
ally speak  peace  to  your  heart ;  and  I  am 
confident,  in  due  time,  will  do  so.  It  is  he 
that  stilleth  the  raging  of  the  sea  ;  and  by  a 
word  can  turn  the  violentest  storm  into  a 
great  calm.  What  the  particular  thoughts 
or  temptations  are  that  disquiet  you,  I  know 
not ;  but  whatsoever  they  are,  look  above 
them,  and  labor  to  fix  your  eye  on  that  infi- 
nite goodness,  which  never  faileth  them, 
that,  by  naked  faith,  do  absolutely  rely  send 
rest  upon  it,  and  patiently  wait  upon  rim, 
who  hath  pronounced  them  all,  without  ex- 
ception, blessed  that  do  so.  Say  often  within 
your  own  heart  ;  Though  he  slay  me,  yet 
will  I  trust  in  him  :  and  if,  after  some  inter- 
vals, your  troubled  thoughts  do  return,  check 
them  still  with  the  holy  Psalmist's  words  ; 
Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul,  &c.  If 
you  can  thoroughly  sink  yourself  down, 
through  your  own  nothingness,  into  Him  who 
is  all,  ani  entirely  renouncing  your  own  will, 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


43 


embrace  that  blest  and  holy  will  in  all  things, 
there  I  am  sure  you  shall  find  that  rest,  which 
all  your  own  distempers,  and  all  the  powers 
of  darkness  shall  not  be  able  to  deprive  you 
of.  I  incline  not  to  multiply  words  :  and, 
indeed,  other  advice  than  this  I  have  none  to 

f[ive  you.  The  Lord  of  peace,  by  the  sprink- 
ing  of  the  blood  of  his  Son  Jesus,  and  the 
sweet  breathings  of  the  great  Comforter,  his 
o^vn  Holy  Spirit,  give  you  peace  in  himself. 
Amen." 

We  learn  from  Burnet,  "  that  his  thoughts 
were  .lively,  oft  out  of  the  way  and  surpri- 
sing, yet  just  and  genuine  ;"  and  several  of 
his  sayings  might  be  adduced  to  justify  this 
praise,  and  to  show  him  well  read  in  the 
science  of  human  nature  and  its  manage- 
ment. It  was  an  aphorism  of  his,  that  "  One 
half  of  the  world  lives  upon  the  madness 
of  the  other."  He  well  knew,  writes  his 
nephew,  when  it  was  expedient  to  be  silent, 
and  when  it  behooved  him  to  speak — a  know- 
ledge not  less  rare  than  valuable.  One  of 
his  favorite  axioms  was,  that  "  All  things 
operate  according  to  the  disposition  of  the 
subject  :"  and  he  was  of  opinion,  that  the 
silence  of  a  sood  man  will  sometimes  convey 
a  more  effectual  lesson  than  his  discourse. 
Two  things,  he  observed,  are  commonly  re- 
quisite to  make  religious  advice  saluiarv, 
aamcly,  time  and  judgment :  and  he  thought 
the  following  maxim  mi^ht  often  be  remem- 
bered with  advantage, — philoxnjilinndvm,  xed 
paucis.  Accordinirly,  he  was  quite  asrainst 
jading  hearers  with  discourses  beyond  the 
measure  of  their  uiiderstandins,  or  their  pa- 
tience: "for  'tis  belter,"  said  he,  "to  send 
them  home  still  hungry  than  surfeited." 
He  was  no  advocate  in  sjeneral  for  crude  and 
abrupt  exposures  of  unpalatable  truths.  Be- 
ing told  of  an  auihor,  who  had  entitled  his 

Eerformance,"  Naked  truth  whij)!  and  stript," 
is  remark  was,  "  It  might  have  been  better 
to  clothe  it  ;"  and  he  saw  nothinsr  praise- 
worthv  in  the  roughness,  misnamed  honestv, 
of  some  people,  "who  would  rather  over- 
turn the  boat  than  trim  it."  I  shall  only 
add,  in  illustration  of  this  point  of  his  char- 
acter, a  prayer  which  he  used  to  offer  up, 
which  is  pregnant  with  melancholy  mean- 
mg :  "Deliver  me,  0  Lord,  from  the  errors 
of  wise  men  :  vea,  and  of  good  men." 

Of  his  humilitv,  that  erace  so  lovely  in 
the  eyes  of  Heaven,  and  which  was  trulv^  his 
crownin?  grace,  it  would  be  difTicult  to  take  i 
the  dimensions.  Burnet  mentions  that  "  he 
seemed  to  have  tlie  lowest  thf)Ughts  of  him- 
self possible,  and  to  desire  that  all  other 
persons  should  think  as  meanly  of  him,  as  he 
did  of  himself :  and  he  bore  all  sorts  of  ill 
usage  and  reproach,  like  a  man  that  took 
pleasure  in  it."  i 
This  cliaracter  of  his  mind  is  finely  illus- 
trated in  the  following  pa^sage  from  one  of 
his  letters.  i 

"  And  now  I  have  begur.,  I  would  end  just 


nere  ;  for  I  have  nothing  to  say ,  nothing  of 
affairs  (to  be  sure)  private  nor  public;  atij 
to  strike  up  to  discourses  of  devotion,  alas ! 
what  is  there  to  be  said,  but  what  you  suffi- 
ciently know,  and  daily  read,  and  daily  think, 
and,  I  am  confident,  daily  endeavor  to  do  1 
And  I  am  beaten  back,  if  I  had  a  great  mind 
to  speak  of  such  things,  by  the  sense  of  so 
great  deficiency,  in  doing  those  things  thai 
the  most  ignorant  among  Christians  can  no> 
choose  but  know.  Instead  of  all  fine  no- 
tions, I  flv   to    \iotc  £Xri)<roi/,  Xoio-ri    iXrrjTi..  ] 

think  them  the  great  heroes  and  excellent 
persons  of  the  world,  that  attain  to  high  de- 
crees of  pure  contemplation  and  divine  love  , 
but  next  to  those,  them  that  in  aspiring  to 
that  and  in  fallina:  short  of  it,  fall  down  into 
deep  humility,  and  i elf-contempt,  and  a  real 
desire  to  be  despised  and  trampled  on  by  all 
the  world.  And  I  believe  that  they  that  sink 
lowest  into  that  depth,  stand  nearest  to  ad- 
vancement to  those  other  heights  :  for  the 
great  Kinsj  who  is  the  fountain  of  that  honor, 
hath  given  us  this  character  of  himself,  that 
He  resists  the  proud  and  gives  grace  to  the 
humble.  Farewell,  my  dear  friend,  and  be 
so  charitable  as  sometimes  in  your  addresses 
upward,  to  remember  a  poor  caitiff",  who  no 
dav  forgets  vou. 

"  13M  December,  1676.  "  R.  L." 

On  the  eve  of  taking  a  bishopric,  when  he 
perceived  how  many  obstacles  there  were  tc 
his  doino'  the  good  he  wished  to  others,  "  Ye' 
one  benefit  at  least,"  said  he,  "  will  arise  from 
it  ;  I  shall  break  that  liltle  idol  of  estimation 
my  friends  have  for  me,  and  which  I  have 
been  so  \ons  sick  of."  Though  he  could  not 
be  ignorant  of  the  value  set  on  his  pulpit  dis- 
courses by  the  public, — for  never  was  a 
wandering  eye  seen  when  he  preached,  but 
the  whole  congrecration  would  often  melt 
into  tears  before  him, — yet  the  most  urgent 
entreaties  of  his  friends  could  never  obtain 
from  him  the  ()iiblication  of  a  single  sermon. 
Indeed,  he  looked  upon  himself  as  so  ordinary 
a  jjreacher,  and  so  unlikely  to  do  good,  that 
he  was  always  for  giving  up  his  place  to 
other  ministers ;  and  after  he  became  a  bishop, 
he  always  preferred  preachiii?  to  small  con- 
£rre<raiions,  and  would  nevercrive  notice  before- 
hand when  he  was  to  fill  the  pulpit.  Of  a 
piece  with  his  rooted  dislike  to  anything,  that 
seemed  to  imply  consequence  in  himself,  was 
his  stroncf  objection  to  have  his  portrait  taken. 
When  it  was  requested  of  him.  he  testified 
unusual  dis[)leasure,  and  said,  "  If  you  will 
have  my  likeness,  draw  it  with  charcoal:" 
meaning,  no  doubt,  that  he  was  carhone 
nnfrtnihis,  as  jusily  obnoxious  to  scorn  and 
condemnation.  His  picture  was,  however, 
clandestinely  taken  when  he  was  about  the 
middle  age  :  and  as  the  engravings  prefixed 
to  his  works  are  copied  from  it,  it  is  a  pleas- 
ure to  know  from  such  good  authority  as  his 
nephew's  letter,  that  it  greatly  resembled 
him. 


44 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


Nature  had  endowed  him  wiih  a  warm 
and  anVctioiiatc  disposiiion,  which  was  not 
extinffuished  by  his  suiu'rhitive  love  to  God, 
thougli  it  was  always  kept  in  due  subordina- 
tion. In  his  commentary  on  the  ei)islle  of 
Peter  he  remarks,  that  "our  only  safest  way 
is  to  gird  up  our  affections  wholly  ;"  and  he 
lived  up  to  this  principle.  Accordiuffly,  after 
avowing  oni'e,  how  partial  he  was  to  the 
amiable  cliaracter  and  fine  accomplishments 
of  a  relation,  he  added,  "  Nevertheless  I  can 
readily  wean  myself  from  him,  if  I  can  not 
persuade  him  to  become  wise  and  good  ;  Sine 
()onit(tte  nulla  mnjcalas,  nullos  sapor.^^  To 
him,  as  to  that  Holy  One  of  whose  spirit  he 
partook  largely,  whoever  did  the  will  of  his 
heavenly  Father  were  more  than  natural 
kindred.  Such,  therefore,  of  his  relations  as 
were  Christians  indeed,  had  a  double  share 
of  his  tenderness;  and  to  the  strength  of  this 
twofold  bond,  not  less  than  to  his  heavenly- 
mindedness,  we  may  ascribe  his  exclamation 
on  returning  from  the  grave,  in  which  his 
brother-in-law  had  been  interred:  "Fain 
would  I  have  thrown  myself  in  with  him."  A 
beautiful  extract  from  a  letter,  which  he  wrote 
to  that  gentleman  on  the  death  of  a  particu- 
larly sweet  and  promising  child,  to  whom  he 
himself  was  tenderly  attached,  may  here  find 
a  suitable  place. 

"  I  am  glad  of  your  health  and  recovery  of 
your  little  ones ;  but  indeed  it  was  a  sharp 
stroke  of  a  pen,  that  told  me  your  pretty 
Johnny  was  dead  :  and  I  felt  it  truly  more 
than,  to  my  remembrance,  I  did  the  death  of 
any  child  in  my  lifetime.  Sweet  thing,  and 
is  he  so  quickly  laid  to  sleep  ?  Happy  he  ! 
Though  we  shall  have  no  more  the  pleasure 
of  his  lisping  and  laughing,  he  shall  have  no 
more  the  pain  of  cry  in<i,  nor  of  bein?  sick,  nor 
of  dying;  and  hath  wholly  escaped  the  trou- 
ble of  schooling,  and  all  other  sufferinars  of 
boys,  and  the  r  per  and  deeper  griefs  of  riper 
years,  this  poor  life  being  all  along  nothing 
but  a  linked  chain  of  many  sorrows  and  many 
deaths.  Tell  my  dear  sister  she  is  now  much 
more  akin  to  the  other  world  ;  and  this  will 
quickly  be  passed  tons  all.  John  is  but  gone 
an  hour  or  two  sooner  to  bed,  as  children  use 
to  do,  and  we  are  undressing  to  follow.  And 
the  more  we  put  off  the  love  of  this  present 
world  and  all  things  superfluous,  beforehand, 
we  shall  have  the  less  to  do,  when  we  lie 
down.  It  shall  refresh  me  to  hear  from  you 
at  your  leisure. 

"  Sir,  your  affectionate  brother, 

"  Edinbro',  Jan.  IPith."       "  R.  Leighton. 

Leighton  was  a  great  admirer  of  rural 
^enery  ;  and,  in  his  rides  upon  the  Sussex 
Jowns,  he  often  descanted,  with  sublime  fer- 
for,  on  the  marvellous  works  of  the  almighty 
Architect.  Adverting  to  the  boundless  varie- 
ties of  creation,  he  remarked,  that  there  is  no 
wonder,  after  a  straw,  omnipotence  being  as 
necessary  to  make  the  least  things  out  of 
nothing  as  the  greatest.    But  his  loftv  mind 


seemed  especially  to  delight  in  soarinir  to  the 
celestial  firmament,  and  expatiating  through 
those  stupendous  vaults,  from  which  so  many 
glorious  lamps  are  hung  out,  on  purpose  he 
believed  to  attract  our  tlioughts  to  the  slory 
that  excelleth  ;  and  "  we  miss  the  chief  benefit 
they  are  meant  lo  render  us,  if  we  use  them 
not  to  light  us  up  to  heaven."  "  It  was  a 
long  hand,"  he  would  exclaim,  "  and  a  strong 
hand  too,  that  stretched  out  this  stately  canopy 
above  us;  and  to  him  whose  work  it  is  we 
may  rightly  ascribe  most  excellent  majesty." 
Afrer  some  such  expressions  of  devout  amaze- 
ment, he  would  Sii.k  into  silent  and  adoring 
contemplation. 

Leighton  was  fond  of  music  both  vocal  and 
instrumental,  and  delighted  in  its  appropria- 
tion to  divine  uses  ;  but  he  disapproved  of  its 
being  made  subservient  to  a  refined  sensuali- 
ty, and  declared  that  he  preferred  the  croaking 
of  frogs  to  the  idle  songs,  which  professed 
Christians  sing  and  play  without  blushing  or 
compunction.  He  contrasted  the  harp  and 
psaltery  of  David,  rehearsing  the  praises  of 
the  Lord,  with  the  tabret  and  pipe,  so  loathed 
by  Isaiah,  because  they  were  employed  to 
inflame  the  passions  and  tickle  the  fancies  of 
lewd  wassailers,  and  to  divert  their  thoughts 
from  those  operations  of  the  Lord's  hands, 
"  which  utter  the  most  harmonious  music." 

We  have  seen  that  his  walk  was  direct  to 
heaven,  and  the  drift  of  his  conversation 
habitually  unearthly.  He  died  daily  by  the 
mortification  of  his  natural  appetites  and 
afTections;  and  he  was  visibly  perfect  in  that 
frame  of  mind,  which  he  wondered  should  not 
be  universal,  "in  which  every  second  thought 
is  of  death."  It  was  not  in  a  melancholy  tone 
that  he  touched  on  this  serious  subject ;  for 
the  illusions  spread  over  earthly  things  had 
\ons  since  faded  awav  from  his  eves,  which 
were  fixed  in  the  sublime  anticipations  of 
faith  on  those  blissful  realities,  that  shall  open 
upon  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord,  when  they 
have  shaken  off  mortality.  To  him,  there- 
fore, death  had  lost  its  sting:  it  was  become 
a  pleasant  theme  ;  and  gave  occasion  to  some 
of  his  most  cheerful  sayinjis.  He  would 
compare  this  heavy  clod  of  clay,  with  which 
the  soul  is  encumbered,  to  the  miry  boots,  of 
which  the  traveller  gladly  divests  himself  on 
finishing  his  journey:  and  he  could  not  dis- 
guise his  own  wish  to  be  speedily  unclothed, 
instead  of  lingering  below  till  bis  ^armenls 
were  worn  out  and  dropped  off  through  age. 
In  general,  his  temper  was  serene  rather  than 
gay  ;  but  his  nephew  states,  that  if  ever  it 
rose  to  an  unusual  pitch  of  vivacity,  it  was 
when  some  illness  attacked  him- — when, 
"from  the  shaking  of  the  prison  doors,  he 
was  led  to  hope,  that  some  of  those  brisk 
blasts  would  throw  them  open,  and  give  bim 
the  release  he  coveted."  Then  he  seemed  to 
stand  tiptoe  on  the  margin  of  eternity,  in  a 
delightful  amazement  of  spirit,  eagerly  await- 
ing the  summons  to  depart,  and  feeding  his 
soul  with  the  prospect  of  immortal  life  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHION. 


45 


giory.    Sometimes,  while  contemplating  his  j 
future  resting-place,  he  would  break  out  into 
that  noble  apostrophe  of  pious  George  Her- 
bert; 

'  O  let  me  roost  and  nestle  there  ; 
Tlien  of  a  sinner  thou  art  rid, 
And  I  of  hope  and  fear." 

Hearing  once  of  the  death  of  a  portly  man; 

"How  is  it,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  A  

has  broke  through  those  goodly  brick  walls, 
while  I  am  kept  in  by  a  bit  of  flimsy  deal?" 
He  would  say  pleasantly,  that  he  had  his 
nightcap  on,  and  rejoiced  that  it  was  so  near 
bedtime,  or,  rather,  so  near  the  hour  of  rising 
to  one  who  had  long  lain  awake  in  the  dark  ; 
and  pointing  to  the  children  of  the  family, 
one  evening,  who  were  showing  symptoms 
of  weariness  and  importuning  to  be  undressed  ; 
"  Shall  I,"  said  he,  "  who  am  threescore  and 
ten,  be  loath  to  go  to  bed  ?"  This  world  he 
considered  a  state  of  nonage,  and  the  land  of 
mature  men  a  land  very  far  off".  No  apoph- 
thegm of  inunspired  wisdom  pleased  him 
more  than  that  of  Seneca :  "  Ilia  dies,  quam  ul 
supremam  melinsses,  (elernitalis  nntalis  est." 
His  is.,v.crity  to  depart  resulted  from  his  earnest 
desire  to  "  see  and  enjoy  perfection  in  the 
perfect  sense  of  it,  which  he  could  not  do  and 
live."  '•  That  consummation,"  he  would  say, 
"is  truly  a  hope  deferred;  but,  when  it 
Cometh,  it  will  be  a  tree  of  life."  Perhaps, 
indeed,  he  would  have  been  over-anxious  to 
take  wing,  had  not  his  impatience  been 
balanced  by  profound  submission  to  the  divine 
good  pleasure.  This  alone  prevented  an  ex- 
cessive desire  for  the  moment  to  arrive,  when 
his  soul,  completely  fledged,  should  spring 
into  its  j)roper  element ;  should  remove  far 
away,  not  only  from  the  wickednesses  of  a 
profane  world,  but  also  from  the  childish- 
nesses of  religious  Christians  ;  and  should  be 
at  rest  amidst  the  truly  reformed  churches 
of  just  men  made  perfect, — those  happy  cir- 
cumferences, as  he  termed  them,  which  are 
intimately  and  perfectly  united  to  their  sola- 
tious  centre,  and  to  each  other. 

An  extract  from  a  letter,  supposed  to  have 
been  written  a  short  time  before  his  death, 
may  here  be  aptly  inserted. 

"  I  find  daily  more  and  more  reason  without 
me,  and  vviiliin  me  yet  much  more,  to  pant 
and  long  to  be  gone.  I  am  grown  exceeding 
uneasy  in  writing  and  speaking,  yea  almost 
in  thinking,  when  I  reflect  how  cloudy  our 
clearest  thoughts  are :  but,  I  think  again 
what  other  can  we  do,  till  the  day  break  and 
the  shadows  flee  away,  as  one  that  lieth  awake 
in  thenight  must  be  tliinkiiig;  and  onethought 
that  will  likely  oftenest  return,  when  by  ail 
Other  thoughts  he  finds  little  relief,  is,  when 
will  it  be  day  ?" 

Yet  Leigh  ton,  for  the  comfort  of  weak 
believers  be  it  recorded,  did  not  pretend  to 
an  abs(jlule  assurance  of  final  salvation.  Con- 
versing, one  day,  in  his  wonted  strain  of  holy 
animation,  of  ilie  blessedness  of  being  fixed 


as  a  pillar  in  the  heavenly  Jerusalem  to  go 
no  more  out,*  he  was  interrupted  by  a  near 
relation  exclaiming,  "Ah,  but  you  have  assur- 
ance !"  "No,  truly,"  he  replied,  "only  a 
good  hope,  and  a  great  desire  to  see  what 
they  are  doing  on  the  other  side,  for  of  this 
world  I  am  heartily  weary." 

Such  was  the  holy  man,  of  whom  little  now 
remains  to  be  told,  except  his  dismissal  from 
this  troublesome  scene  to  that  place  among 

 ■  "  The  sanctities  of  heaven," 

which  he  had  long  preoccupied  in  affection 
and  spirit. 

After  a  retirement  of  five  years,  he  was 
alarmed  by  receiving  a  letter  in  the  king's 
own  hand,  which  threatened  him  with  an 
order  to  exchange  his  peaceful  retreat  for  the 
distraction  and  turbulence  of  a  public  station. 
The  letter  ran  as  follows  : — 

"Windsor,  July  16,  1679. 

"MvLoxd:  1  am  resolved  to  try  what  clem- 
ency can  prevail  upon  such  in  Scotland,  as 
will  not  conform  to  the  government  of  the 
church  there;  for  effecting  of  which  design, 
I  desire  that  you  may  go  down  to  Scotland 
with  your  first  conveniency ;  and  take  all 
possible  pains  for  persuading  all  you  can  of 
both  opinions  to  as  much  mutual  correspon- 
dence and  concord  as  can  be:  and  send  me 
from  time  to  time  characters  both  of  men  and 
things.  In  order  to  this  design,  I  shall  send 
a  precept  for  two  hundred  pounds  sterling 
upon  my  Exchequer,  till  you  resolve  how  to 
serve  me  in  a  stated  employment. 

"  Your  loving  Friend, 
"  Charles  R. 

"  For  the  Bishop  •/  Dunblane." 

It  was  sent  at  the  urgent  suit  of  the  Duke 
of  Monmouth,  who  then  administered  the 
affairs  of  Scotland,  and  who  was  anxious  for 
Leighton  to  go  back  and  reside  in  that  coun- 
try,  although  he  should  not  consent  to  resume 
his  episcopal  office.  Leighten  was  willing 
to  take  this  step,  if  any  likelihood  could  be 
shown  of  benefit  resulting  from  it ;  but  the 
duke's  credit  failing  slujrtly  afterward,  this 
project  seems  to  have  fallen  with  it. 

In  the  year  1684,  Leighton  was  earnestly 
requested  by  Burnet  to  go  up  to  London,  and 
to  visit  Lord  Perth,  who  had  begun  to  feel 
compunction  for  his  lamentable  departure  from 
virtue,  and  had  expressed  an  earnest  desire 
to  have  the  benefit  of  the  bishop's  counsel. 
The  hope  of  reclaiming  that  unhaiijjy  noble- 
man prevailed  over  personal  considerations, 
and  he  went  up  to  London  accordingly,  healthy 
in  appearance,  but  with  feelings  of  illness, 
which  may  account  for  his  presentiment  that 
his  dissolution  was  an  hand.  "The  worse  I 
am,"  said  he  in  the  plenitude  of  his  self-deny- 
ing benevolence,  "  the  more  I  choose  to  go, 
that  I  may  give  one  pull  at  yon  poor  brother, 
and  snatch  him,  if  possible,  from  the  infectious 
air  of  the  court."  Burnet  had  not  seen  hina 
•  R«v.  iii.  12. 


46 


THL  1.IFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


for  a  considerable  time  bel'ore,  and  was  aston- 
ished at  tlie  freshness  and  vii^or  which  ap- 
peared in  hiia  notwiliisiandini^  lus  advanced 
a'je.  His  iiair  wassiillhlack,  and  iiis  motions 
were  lively  ;  and  his  devolion  slione  forth 
wilh  the  same  lustre  and  vivacity  as  ever. 
On  his  friend,  however,  expressing  great 
pleasureat  seeing  him  look  so  hearty,  Leighton 
ohserved,  that  for  all  that  he  was  very  near  his 
end,  and  his  work  and  journey  botii  were  now 
almost  done.  This  answer  made  little  im- 
pression on  Burnet  at  the  time  ;  but  his  mind 
reverted  to  it,  after  the  event  of  three  more 
days  had  stamped  it  with  a  prophetic  em- 
phasis. 

The  very  next  day  he  was  attacked  with 
an  oppression  on  the  chesi,  and  with  cold  and 
stitches,  which  proved  to  be  the  commence- 
ment of  a  i)leurisy.  He  sunk  rapidly,  for  on 
the  following  day  both  speech  and  sense  had 
left  him  ;  and,  after  panting  for  about  twelve 
hours,  he  expired  without  a  struggle  in  the 
arms  of  Fishop  Burnet,  his  intimate  friend, 
his  ardent  and  affectionate  admirer.  Nothing 
is  recorded  of  his  last  hours:  and  indeed  the 
disease  that  carried  him  off  was  such,  by  its 
nature  and  rapid  progress,  as  to  preclude 
much  speaking.  But  no  record  is  necessary 
of  the  dying  moments  of  a  man,  who  has 
served  God  from  his  infancy  ;  and  whose  path 
had  been  a  shining  light  up  to  the  moment 
when  the  shades  of  death  closed  over  it.  God 
was,  assuredly,  the  strength  of  his  heart  in 
the  hour  of  his  last  agony,  and  is  now  his 
glorious  portion,  his  exceeding  and  eternal 
great  reward.  Tt  was  needless  for  himself 
that  he  should  have  notice  of  tiie  bridegroom's 
coming;  for  his  lamp  was  always  trimmed, 
his  loins  were  always  girded.  To  his  sur- 
•  viving  friends  it  could  have  afforded  little 
additional  satisfaction,  to  have  heard  him 
express,  on  his  death-bed,  that  faith  and  holy 
hope,  of  which  his  life  had  been  one  unbroken 
example  :  neither  could  he  have  left,  for  the 
benefit  of  posterity,  any  sayings  more  suit- 
able to  a  dying  believer  than  those  he  daily  ut- 
tered :  living,  as  he  had  long  lived,  on  the  con- 
fines of  the  eternal  world,  and  in  the  highest 
frame  of  sjiirituality  that  it  seems  possible  for 
an  imbodicd  soul  to  attain.  He  entered  into 
his  rest,  on  the  25th  of  June,  A.  D.  16S4,  in 
the  seventy-fourth  year  of  his  age. 

Two  circumstances  connected  with  his 
death  ought  not  to  be  unnoticed.  He  had 
often  said,  that  if  he  were  to  choose  a  place 
to  die  in,  it  should  be  an  inn.  In  such  a  place 
he  thought  that  a  Christian  believer  might 
properly  finish  his  pilgrimage ;  the  whole 
world  being  to  him  but  a  large  and  noisy  inn, 
and  he  a  wayfarer,  tarrying  in  it  as  short  a 
'>me  as  possible,  and  then  hasting  away  to 
h.s  Father's  house.  Besides,  he  considered 
it  undesirable  to  be  surrounded  by  weeping 
friends  and  officious  domestics,  whose  sorrow- 
ful attentions  might  unnerve  and  distract  the 
mind,  \ihcn  it  ought  to  be  wholly  collected 
Rnd  set  upon  God  ;  whereas  no  such  distur- 


bance of  spirit  would  result  from  the  uncon- 
cerned  ministry  of  strangers.  This  singular 
wish  was  graiilied,  for  he  breathed  his  last 
in  the  Bell  Inn,  Warwick  Lane. 

The  other  circumstance  is  this.  While  he 
resided  on  his  diocess  in  Scotland,  his  for- 
bearance with  his  tenants  was  so  great,  that 
at  the  time  of  his  resignation  ccnisiderable' 
sums  were  due  to  him.  His  subsequent  in- 
come seems  to  have  arisen  principally  from 
these  arrears,  which  dropped  in  slowly  from 
time  to  time  ;  and  the  last  remittance  that 
he  had  to  expect  was  made  about  six  weeks 
before  his  death,  "  so  that,"  to  adopt  Bishop 
Burnet's  happy  phrase.  "  his  provision  and 
journey  failed  both  at  once." 

His  remains  were  conveyed  to  Horstcd 
Keynes,  the  parish  in  which  he  had  spent  his 
concluding  years,  and  were  interred  in  an 
ancient  chancel*  of  the  church,  with  no  other 
pomp  to  hallow  bis  obsetjuies,  thasi  the  un- 
bought  attendance  and  inexpressive  tears  of 
the  surrounding  neighborhood.  On  his  tomb- 
stone is  the  following  simple  epitaph : — 

Depositum 
Robeni  zt  Leightounj 
Arciiiepiscopi  Glasguensis 
Apud  8cotas 
Qui  objt  XXV  die  Junij 
Aimo  Diiij  1684 
vEtatis  sua;  74. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  hang  more  fro 
grant  garlands  on  his  tomb,  than  are  already 
woven  for  it  by  Bishop  Burnet.    The  first  I 
shall  produce,  is  I'rom  his  j)reface  to  the  life 
of  Bishop  Bedell. 

"J  shall  not  add  much  of  the  bishops  that 
have  been  in  that  church  [of  Scotland  ],  since 
the  last  re-establishment  of  the  order  ;  but 
that  I  have  observed  among  the  few  of  them, 
to  whom  I  had  the  honor  to  be  known  par- 
ticularly, as  great  and  exemjjlary  things  as 
ever  I  met  with  in  all  ecclesiastical  history  ; 
not  only  the  practice  of  the  strictest  of  all  the 
ancient  canons,  but  a  pitch  of  virtue  and  piety, 
beyond  what  can  fall  under  common  imita- 
tion, or  be  made  the  measure  of  even  the  most 
angelical  rank  of  men  ;  and  saw  things  in 
them  that  would  look  liker  fair  ideas,  than 
what  men  clothed  wilh  flesh  and  blood  could 
grow  up  to.  But  of  this  I  will  say  no  more, 
since  those  that  are  concerned  are  yet  alive, 
and  their  character  is  too  singular,  not  to 
w 

*  In  this  chancel,  which  it  has  lately  been  found 
necessary  to  talie  down  on  account  ot  its  decayed 
state,  were  some  venerable  tomlis  of  the  family  at 
Broadluirst,  who  possessed  tbe  liandsome  old  niiinsion 
of  that  name,  and  the  patronage  of  the  living.  The 
whole  is  now  transferred  by  purchase  to  another 
family.  In  the  same  chancel  was  tlie  tomb  of  the 
archbishop's  younger  brother,  Sir  Kllis,  who  died 
only  a  few  months  before  him,  as  appears  from  tin 
inscription  on  his  tombstone  • — 

Here  lyeth  interred  the 
Body  of  Sir  Kllis  Leighton,  Knt., 
Who  died  9th  January  1GH4. 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


47 


make  them  to  be  as  easily  known,  if  I  enlarged 
upon  it  as  it' I  named  them."* 

The  next  is  from  the  "  History  of  his  own 
Time." 

"  I  bear  still  the  greatest  veneration  for  the 
memory  of  that  man,  that  I  do  for  any  person  ; 
and  reckon  my  early  knowledge  of  him,  which 
happened  the  year  after  this  [Leighton's 
promotion  to  a  bishopric],  and  my  long  and 
intimate  conversation  with  him,  that  con- 
tinued to  his  death,  lor  twenty-three  years, 
among  the  greatest  blessings  of  my  life  ;  and 
for  which  I  know  I  must  give  account  to 
God,  in  the  great  day,  in  a  most  particular 
manner." 

My  third  and  last  quotation  shall  be  from 
his  "  Pastoral  Care,"  in  which,  after  stating 
that  the  matter  of  it  had  been  the  chief  sub- 
ject of  his  thoughts  for  more  than  thirty  years, 
he  goes  on  as  follows  : — 

"  I  was  formed  to  them  by  a  bishop,  that 
had  the  greatest  elevation  of  soul,  the  largest 
compas5  of  knowledge,  the  most  mortified  and 
most  heavenly  disposition,  that  I  ever  yet 
saw  in  mortal  :  that  had  the  greatest  parts, 
ai'  well  as  virtues,  with  the  perfectest  humili- 
ty, that  I  ever  saw  in  man  ;  and  had  a  sub- 
lime stiain  in  preaching,  with  so  grave  a 
gesture,  and  such  a  majesty,  both  of  thought, 
of  language,  and  of  pronunciation,  that  I  never 
once  saw  a  wandering  eye  where  he  preached ; 
tind  have  seen  whole  apsemblies  often  melt  in 
lears  before  him  ;  and  of  whom  I  can  say  with 
great  truth,  that  in  a  free  and  frequent  con- 
versation with  him,  for  above  two-and-twenty 
years,  I  never  knew  hirn  say  an  idle  word, 
that  had  not  a  direct  tendency  to  edification: 
and  I  never  once  saw  him  in  any  other  tem- 

[)er,  but  that  which  I  wished  to  be  in,  in  the 
ast  moments  of  tny  life.  For  that  pattern, 
which  I  saw  in  him,  and  for  that  conversa- 
tion, which  I  had  with  him,  I  know  how 
much  I  have  to  answer  to  God:  and  though 
my  reflecting  on  that  which  I  knew  in  him, 
gives  me  just  cause  of  being  deeply  humbled 
in  myself,  and  before  God  ;  yet  I  feel  no  more 
sensible  pleasure  in  anything  than  in  going 
over  in  my  thoughts  all  I  saw  and  observed 
in  hirn." 

Leigliton  was  small  of  stature,  as  may  be 
inferred  I'rom  some  letters  of  Dr.  Fallf  to  a 
friend,  in  wliich  he  is  more  than  once  play- 

•  The  Life  of  Bishop  Rodrll  was  published  in  the 
year  169.5,  ami  to  the  passaf^o  above  cited  is  subjoined 
the  following  note,  which  confirms,  if  confirmation  be 
needed,  its  iijiplication  to  Archbishop  Leighton  :  "  The 
worthy  piTsou  here  mrant  is  dead  since  this  was 
put  in  llie  ])ress  ;  hut  both  liis  ntimo  and  a  more  par- 
ticular account  of  him,  as  it  well  deserves  a  book  by 
itself,  so  will  perhaps  be  f^iven  on  another  occasion.'' 

t  Dr.  Kail  appears  first  in  the  family  of  Craig  Hall 
Sir  Thomas  Hope's),  as  governor,  it  would  seem, 
lO  d  Mr.  Hope,  whom  he  accompanied  to  the  con- 
tinent. He  was  afterward  abroad,  in  the  same 
capacity,  with  the  sons  of  the  Marquis  of  Queens- 
berry,  f.ord  Treasurer,  through  whose  patronage  he 
was  appointed,  iibont  the  year  16S2  or  IfiSS,  to  be 
King's  1  listorios;r.ipher,.  with  a  salary  of  10/.  sterling. 
Oq  the  29lh  September,  1684,  he  wa ;  chosen  Princip.U 


fully  denominated  "the  little  bishop;"  and 
one  of  the  anecdotes  inserted  above,  in  which 
he  contrasts  himself  with  a  corpulent  person, 
denotes  him  to  have  been  of  a  spare  habit. 
To  judge  from  his  portrait,  his  countenance 
must  have  been  a  faithful  interpreter  of  his 
mind  ;  for  it  uidicates  sense  in  alliance  with 
sanctity,  sweetness  dignified  by  strength,  and 
vivacity  shaded  with  pensiveness  and  tem- 
pered by  devotion.  Of  his  manners  in  private 
life  we  have  no  more  exact  information,  than 
may  be  deduced  from  the  foregoing  narrative : 
but  from  this  we  may  confidently  pronounce, 
that  in  his  general  character  anil  deportment 
there  was  a  happy  union  of  dignity  and 
meekness;  and  that  in  him  the  sterling  in- 
tegrity  of  the  Christian  was  refined,  without 
being  impaired,  by  secular  accomplishments. 
Indeed,  religion  combining  so  largely  as  it  did 
in  Leighton,  with  a  happy  nature  improved 
by  travel,  by  multifarious  and  elegant  learn- 
ing, and  by  familiar  intercourse  with  tlie 
politest  men  of  the  age,  could  not  fail  of  form- 
ing a  gentleman  of  a  higher  cast,  than  worldly 
education  alone  can  model. 

It  only  remains  to  offer  some  remarks  on 
the  intellectual  character  and  attainments  of 
Archbishop  Leighton,  on  his  genius  as  a  wri- 
ter, and  on  the  style  of  his  compositions. 

With  respect  to  his  mental  qualities,  it 
may  be  safely  aflTirmed  by  the  most  scrupu- 
j  lous  encomiast,  that  he  was  gifted  with  a  ca- 
pacious mind,  a  quick  apprehension,  a  reten- 
tive memory,  a  lively  fancy,  a  correct  taste, 
a  sound  and  discriminating  judgment.  All 
these  excellences  are  conspicuous  in  almost 
every  page  of  his  writings:  for  in  Leighton's 
compositions  there  is  an  extraordinary  even- 
ness. One  is  not  recruited  here  and  there, 
by  a  striking  thought  or  a  brilliant  sentence, 
'  from  the  fatigue  of  toiling  through  many  a 
heavy  paragraph,  but  "one  spirit  in  them 
rules;"  and  while  he  occasionally  mounts  to 
a  surpassing  height,  he  seldom  or  never  sinks 
into  flatness.  The  reason  is,  that  he  is  a^ 
ways  master  of  his  subject,  with  a  clear  con- 
ception of  his  own  meaning  and  |)urpose,  and 
a  perfect  command  of  all  the  subsidiary  ma- 
terials ;  and  still  more,  that  his  soul  is  al- 
ways teeming  with  those  divine  inspirations, 
which  seem  v(juclisafcd  only  from  time  to 
time  to  ordinary  mortals. 

Had  the  mind  of  Leighton  been  less  exact 
and  perspicacious,  the  ra[)id  and  multitudi- 
nous flow  of  his  ideas  would  have  rendered 
hirn  a  writer  of  more  than  common  obscurity  ; 

of  the  College  of  Glasgow,  from  wliich  situation  he 
was  removed,  soon  alter  the  Revolution,  on  declining 
to  take  the  oaths.  In  1()7I  he  sends  hi^  friend  VVylie 
I  a  translation  from  the  Italian  of  the  account  of  "  The 
j  last  Conclave  ;"  and  he  is  supposed  to  be  the  translator 
of  Mascardi's  History  of  Count  Fleschi's  Rebellion, 
about  the  jear  1070.  He  was  evidently  a  great 
admirer  of  Leigtilon,  wrote  a  Latin  jiretace  to  the 
first  edition  of  ttie  I'ra'lectiones  and  I'ar.eneses,  and 
took  a  lively  interest  in  the  publication  of  the  Com- 
mentary on  the  first  Kpistlc  of  I'eter. 


18 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOr  LEfCxHTON. 


lor  he  was  impatient  of  ihose  rules  of  art  by 
wliich  ihtHilogical  coiMpesiiious  are  usually 
cunliiicd.  Nil  uiaii,  iiuleecl,  was  better  ac- 
quainted with  scholastic  canons  and  dialecti- 
cal arlitices  ;  but  he  towered  above  them. 
At  the  same  time  his  anjummt  never  liin])s, 
altluiugli  the  form  be  not  syllogistic,  the  cor- 
rectness of  his  mind  preventing  material  de- 
viation from  a  lucid  and  consecutive  order. 
There  is  a  logical  continuity  of  thought  to  be 
traced  in  his  writings  :  and  his  ideas,  per- 
haps, may  not  be  unaptly  compared  to  flow- 
ers in  a  garden,  so  luxuriantly  overhanging 
trellises,  as  to  obviate  the  primness  and  for- 
mality of  straight  lines,  without  however 
straying  into  a  wantonness  of  confusion,  that 
would  perplex  the  observer's  eye. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  a  more  scien- 
tific arrangement  in  Leighton's  compositions 
would  have  greatly  assisted  the  memory  of 
his  readers  :  and  let  those  who  come  short 
of  him  in  intellectual  power,  beware  of  imi- 
tating his  laxity  of  method.  The  rules  of 
art,  though  cramps  to  vigor,  are  crutches  to 
feebleness.  My  impression  is,  however,  that 
the  effusions  of  our  author's  mind,  disposed 
more  artificially,  would  have  lost  in  richness 
what  they  gained  in  precision,  and  the  gain 
■would  have  been  overbalanced  by  the  loss. 
From  the  structure  and  flow  of  his  discourses, 
I  should  conjecture  it  to  have  been  his  cus- 
tom, when  he  had  determined  to  write  on 
any  subject,  to  ruminate  on  it  till  his  mind 
had  assumed  a  corresponding  form  and  tone  ; 
after  which  he  poured  forth  his  conceptions 
on  paper  without  i)ause  or  eflort,  like  the  ir- 
repressible droppings  of  the  loaded  honey- 
comb. So  imbued  was  his  holy  soul  with 
the  principles  of  the  gospel,  or  so  completely, 
I  might  belter  say,  was  the  whole  scheme 
of  revelation  amalgamated  in  the  menstruum 
of  his  powerful  intellect,  that  whatever  he 
wrote  on  sacred  subjects  came  forth  with  an 
easy  flow,  clear,  serene,  and  limpid.  In  all 
his  comj)ositions  there  is  a  delightful  consist- 
ency :  nothing  indigested  and  furbid :  no 
dissonances  of  thought,  no  jarring  positions  ; 
none  of  the  fluctuations,  the  ambiguities,  the 
contradictions  which  betray  a  i)enury  of  knowl- 
edge, or  an  imperfect  assimilation  of  it  with 
the  understanding.  Equally  master  of  every 
part  of  the  evangelical  system,  he  never 
steps  out  of  his  way  to  avoid  what  encoun- 
ters him,  or  to  pick  up  what  is  not  obvious: 
he  never  betakes  himself  to  the  covers  of  un- 
fairness or  ignorance  ;  but  he  unfolds,  with 
the  utmost  intrepidity  and  clearness,  the  topic 
that  comes  before  him. 

Moreover,  it  not  a  little  enhances  the  value 
of  his  writings,  that  he  is  fully  aware  how 
far  the  legitimate  range  of  human  inquiry 
extends,  and  what  is  the  boundary  Divine 
wisdom  hathafiixed  toman's  inquisitiveness. 
While  the  half-learned  theologian  beats  about 
in  the  dark,  and  vainly  attempts  a  passage 
throuijh  metaphysical  labyrinths,  which  it  is 
he  part  of  sober  wisdom  not  to  enter,  the 


sagacious  Lcighton  distinctly  sees  the  iinc, 
beyond  which  speculation  is  lolly  :  and  in 
stopping  at  that  limit  he  displays  a  prompt- 
ness ol'  decision,  commensurate  with  his  un- 
wavering certainty  in  proceeding  U])  to  it. 

Such  a  writer  as  Leigliton  was  incapable 
of  parade.  He  was  too  intent  upon  his  sub- 
ject to  be  choice  of  words  and  iihrases,  and 
his  works  discover  a  noble  carelessness  of 
diction,  which  in  some  respects  enhances 
their  beauty,  'i'heir  strength  is  not  wasted 
by  excessive  polishing  :  their  glow  is  not  im- 
paired by  reiterated  touches.  Bui,  though  he 
was  little  curious  in  culling  words  and  com- 
pounding  sentences,  his  language  is  generally 
apt  and  significant,  suflicient  for  the  grandeur 
of  his  conceptions,  without  encumbering 
them.  If  not  always  grammatically  correct, 
it  is  better  than  mere  correctness  wou'd  make 
it;  more  forcible  and  touching;  attracting 
little  notice  to  itself,  but  leaving  the  reader 
to  the  full  impulse  of  those  ideas  of  which  it 
is  the  vehicle.  Leiehton  is  great  by  the 
magnificence  of  thought  :  by  the  sjiontaneous 
emanations  of  a  mind  replete  with  sacred 
knowledge,  and  bursting  with  seraphic  affec- 
tions;  by  what  pauseless  gush  of  intellectual 
splendor,  in  which  the  outward  shell,  the  in- 
termediate letter,  is  eclipsed  and  almost  anni- 
hilated, that  full  scope  may  be  given  to  the 
mighty  eff  ulgence  of  the  informing  spirit. 

Dr.  Doddridge  applies  to  his  eloquence  the 
description  given  by  the  great  epic  poet  of  the 
oratory  of  Ulysses  : — 

But  in  this,  he  seems  to  have  misconceived 
the  meaning  of  Homer,  who  comjiares  the 
thronging  words  and  forcible  elocution  of  the 
Grecian  hero  to  a  storm  of  pelting  rain  and 
driving  sleet,  and  not  to  flakes  of  snow  de- 
scending in  rapid  but  gentle  succession. 

A  sweet  and  mellow  pathos  is  certainly  the 
characteristic  of  his  style  :  but  there  is  nothing 
in  it  languid  and  efl'eminate.  While  the 
suavity  of  his  spirit  flavors  all  his  productions, 
the  strength  of  his  well-informed  and  mascu- 
line understanding  makes  them  abundantly 
solid  and  nutritious.  He  is  not  like  a  pulpy 
reed,  distilling  luscious  juices  ;  he  is  a  rock 
pov.ri7ts;  forth  rivers  of  oil. 

Leighton  never  affects  a  concise  senten- 
tiousness.  He  is  perfectly  free  from  that 
trick  of  antithesis,  which  hit  the  vicious  taste 
of  the  day;  or  was  tolerated  under  the  plea 
that  a  sentiment  would  be  more  securely 
lodged  in  the  memory,  if  the  sentence  which 
conveyed  it  were  armed  with  an  epigrammatic 
point.  But  his  copiousness  does  not  consist 
in  a  vain  prodigality  of  words.  It  is  the  re- 
dundance of  a  lull  mind,  venting  itself  that  it 
may  be  refreshed,  and  not  of  a  j)erplexed  mind, 
painfully  disembarrassing  itself  by  endless 
explanations.  He  is  not  the  literary  tne- 
chanic,  who  sets  himself  to  spin  out  a  scanty 
material  into  a  vast  expanse  of  web,  or  to 
hammer  out  a  pretty  mgot  into  an  immense 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


40 


surface;  but  his  diffuseness,  or  rather  pro- 
fuseness,  proceeds  froin  the  large  stores  he 
has  amassed  ;  fr!)m  the  broad  survey  of  his 
commanding'  intellect ;  and  from  that  acute- 
ness  which  at  once  resolves  into  its  element- 
ary truths  a  complex  proposition,  and  tracks 
a  remote  consequence  to  its  principle  through 
all  its  gradations.  It  may  be  safely  affirmed, 
that  there  are  not  many  theological  writers, 
in  whose  volumes  are  more  of  "  the  seeds  of 
things."  Perhaps  he  is  less  entitled  than 
some  of  his  great  contemporaries  to  the  praise 
of  being  an  original  thinker  :  yet  the  thoughts 
of  others  become  so  identified  in  hira  with 
whatever  it  is  that  constitutes  the  intellectual 
individuality  of  a  writer,  as  to  issue  from  his 
mind  with  a  new  cast,  bearing  his  own  pecu- 
liar stamp  and  superscription.  Attentive 
students  of  his  works  will  be  repaid  by  an 
abundance  of  excellent  matter ;  and  will 
never  perceive  symptoms  ol'  the  knowledge 
and  vigor  of  the  writer  being  nearly  run  out. 
In  fact,  he  is  never  exhausted,  till  he  has  ex- 
hausted the  subject ;  and  this  he  makes  no 
effort  to  accomplish,  but  he  stops  the  exuda- 
tion of  his  flowing  mind,  when  enough  has 
been  produced,  lest  he  deluge  instead  of 
irrigatmg. 

To  his  perfect  freedom  from  the  vanity  of 
authorship  it  may  partly  be  ascribed,  that 
with  all  his  knowledge  and  fertility  of  inven- 
tion, Leighton  is  never  betrayed  into  weari- 
some and  subtle  details.  There  is  in  him  no 
puerile  ambition  of  dissecting  a  principle  into 
its  minutest  ramifications,  when  such  elaborate 
precision  would  serve  no  higher  end  than  to 
display  the  skill  of  the  artist.  He  lays  down 
the  fundamentals  of  Christian  faith  and  prac- 
tice, with  just  enough  of  individual  applica- 
tion to  give  them  weight  and  clearness,  and 
then  leaves  them  to  lake  root  and  fructify  in 
the  bosoms  of  those  whom  he  addresses. 

Neither  can  it  have  escaped  the  observa- 
tion of  one  at  all  conversant  with  his  writings, 
that  it  is  never  the  purpose  of  his  mind  to 
make  good  any  particular  system  of  divinity, 
nor  to  fortify  its  weak  positions,  and  set  oft" 
its  strong  proofs  and  advantages.  He  is  con- 
stantly aiming  at  higher  matters  ;  and  shakes 
off  with  disdain  the  servile  fetters,  which 
would  shackle  the  free  and  generous  spirit  of 
religion.  Brought  up  in  the  school  of  rio-id 
Cal  vinism,  he  adhered,  in  the  judgment  of 
his  rnalurer  years,  to  tlie  tenets  of  the  French 
reformer,  divested  however  of  their  rigor. 
To  say  that  he  coincided,  for  the  most  part, 
with  Calvin  in  the  interpretation  of  scripture 
would  be  correct  ;  but  it  would  be  most  in- 
correct to  denominate  bun  a  Calvinist,  if  that 
appellation  imj)ly  an  assent  to  a  particular 
scheme  of  theology,  on  the  authority  of  that 
famous  divine.  Leighton,  though  the  hum- 
blest of  m.ankind,  was  not  weakly  distrustful 
of  his  (nvn  powers  ;  and  therefore  we  never 
find  him  slavishly  treadin?  in  the  footsteps  of 
predecessors.  Yet,  though  free  and  indepen- 
dent, he  is  not  audacious  and  dogmatical. 
7 


His  manner  of  handling  the  profound  mystery 
of  predestination  reads  an  excellent  lesson  to 
those  precipitate  sciolists,  who  make  an  un- 
qualified affirmation  of  that  mystery,  in  the 
high  Calvinistic  sense,  to  be  the  test  of  ortho- 
doxy, and,  one  might  almost  add,  the  passport 
to  salvation  ; — who  contrive  to  interweave  it 
with  every  sermon  and  treatise  ; — and  who, 
instead  of  building  on  it  sublime  ideas  of  the 
majesty  and  goodness  of  God,  and  deducing 
from  it  powerful  motives  to  humility  and 
holiness  so  treat  it  as  to  weaken  the  force 
of  moral  and  religious  obligation  on  the  mind, 
and  to  disparage  the  awful  sanctity  of  the 
supreme  and  impartial  governor  of  mankind. 

It  is  one  of  our  author's  excellences,  that 
he  assigns  to  the  several  parts  of  the  system 
of  Redemption  their  relative  rank  and  impor- 
tance. In  unfolding  the  dignity  of  Christ,  the 
glory  of  his  person,  and  the  satisfactory  virtue 
of  his  death,  no  one  can  exceed  him  in  scrip- 
tural orthodoxy  and  devotional  feeling.  Yet 
with  him  the  atonement  is  not  of  such  en- 
grossing magnitude,  as  to  overshadow  the 
chief  ends  for  which  a  piacular  sacrifice  was 
appointed:  but  its  incalculable  value,  in  re- 
spect to  mankind,  is  shown  to  arise  from  its 
being  the  foundation  on  which  the  spiritual 
temple  of  God  is  to  be  rebuilt.  To  open  a 
way  for  the  return  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  the 
world,  is  the  grand  scope  and  aim  of  the 
mediatorial  covenant  as  prominently  exhibited 
by  Leighton  :  and  its  ultimate  glory  is  shown 
to  result  from  the  renovation  of  sinners  to 
rignteousncss,  of  which  the  death  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  in  its  meritorious  consequence  effec- 
tive, by  appeasing  the  judicial  resentment  of 
heaven,  and  cancelling  the  offender's  obliga- 
tion to  punishment. 

The  points,  indeed,  on  which  his  soul  was 
constantly  fixed,  whence  accrues  such  a  hcav 
enly  grandeur  to  all  his  discourses,  were  the 
noble  vocation  of  a  Christian,  and  the  height 
to  which  a  regenerate  soul  ought  to  rise  above 
sublunary  objects;  the  nearness  of  death; 
the  mysterious  vastness  of  the  Godhead  ;  the 
stupendous  concerns  of  eternity  ;  and  the 
blessedness  resulting  from  close  communion 
with  the  Father  of  Spirits,  and  from  conformi- 
ty to  the  pattern  which  Jesus  Christ  bequeath- 
ed to  his  followers,  of  consummate  purity  aud' 
virtue.  When  Leighton  addresses  himself 
to  these  matters,  he  does  indeed  utter  his 
voice  from  high  places;  and  impresses  us  with' 
the  idea  of  a  man,  who  from  an  eminence 
l)eyond  the  region  of  fogs  and  clouds  and 
meteors,  has  surveyed  whatever  is  above  and 
beneath,  things  in  heaven  and  things  upon 
the  earih,  with  a  vast  advantage  for  rating 
justly  the  value  of  the  one  and  of  the  other. 
He  seems  to  have  lately  come  down  from 
conversing  with  God  upon  the  mount,  anoint- 
ed and  pre-eminently  qualified  tr  represent 
the  high  priest  of  the  Christian  temjjle  ;  to 
draw  aside  the  outward  veil,  and  to  disclose 
the  glorious  spirit  of  religion  in  its  innermost 
sanctuary. 


to 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


It  is  impossible  to  dip  into  his  Avritinjis, 
without  cil  serving  with  iiow  brilliant  a  fancy 
he  was  cniiowed.  They  sparkle  with  beauii- 
ful  images,  which  either  are  drawn  i'roin  liie 
inaijazines  of  scripture  ;  or  are  such  as  would 
naturally  ];resenl  themselves  to  an  inventive 
and  ek^jaiit  miitd,  furnished,  as  Leitfhton's 
was,  with  the  literary  products  of  every  clime 
and  iigv,  and  with  the  accumulated  stores  of 
civil  ai\d  ( cclesiastical  erudition  •  and  intent 
upon  making  whatever  it  has  collected  sub- 
servient to  the  illustration  of  divine  truth. 
By  his  holy  skill  sacred  learning  is  made  to 
purify  prol'ane,  and  profane  learning  to  eluci- 
date and  enifellish  sacred.  The  gold  and  silver 
of  Egypt  are  moulded  into  vessels  for  the 
tabernacleof  Jehovah  ;  while  thelivinu  waters 
of  the  sanctuary  are  taught  to  meander  through 
fieidsoi'classic  lore,  impartingto  theirproduce 
celestial  fragrancy  and  virtue. 

Among  the  just  commendations  of  this  great 
and  good  man's  writings,  we  must  not  omit 
their  extraordinary  decency,  resulting,  no 
doubt,  from  singular  purity  of  mind,  and  the 
more  worthy  ol'note  from  its  being  foreign  to 
the  school  in  which  he  had  been  educated. 
No  coarse,  indelicate  metaphor,  the  oflTspring 
of  a  gross  imagination,  ever  sullies  his  pages  ; 
and  if  it  fall  in  his  way  to  handle  subjects 
which  bring  into  view  the  grosser  passions 
and  appetites,  of  our  nature,  he  spreads  over 
their  unseemliness  such  a  veil  of  chastity,  that 
nothing  appears  to  draw  a  frown  from  the 
austerest  gravity,  or  to  put  the  most  suscep- 
tible modesty  to  the  blush. 

Archbishop  Leighton  will  hardly  rank  in 
the  foremost  line  of  philologists  and  theologi- 
cal critics.  Yet,  in  general,  he  is  a  safe  guide 
in  the  exposition  of  particular  texts  ;  and  if 
sometimes  he  mistake  the  precise  sense  of 
ihe  passage  he  discusses,  still  his  improve- 
ment of  it  is  so  orthodox  and  pious,  that  one 
might  be  tempted  to  think  that  it  is  better  to 
err  with  Leighton  than  to  go  right  with  the 
rest  of  mankind.  He  had  carefully  perused 
the  original  text  of  both  the  Old  and  the  New 
Testament;  and  by  a  sober  application  of 
etymological  analysis,  he  frequently  throws 
light  on  obscure  -entences  of  the  sacred 
volume.  From  tne  Fathers  also,  of  whom 
he  was  a  diligent,  student,  as  the  pen-marked 
copies  of  their  works  in  his  library  testify,  he 
drew  many  bcautii'ul  sentiments,  which  are 
interspersed  in  his  own  lucubrations ;  the 
whole  of  which  have  a  strong  savor  of  primi- 
tive spirituality.  But  that  which  adds  so 
peculiar  a  zest  to  his  compositions,  is  the 
quality  usually  denominated  Unction.  His 
mouth  spake  out  of  the  abundance  of  his 
heart.  Instead  of  a  dry  didactic  statement, 
which,  how  iaultless  soever  in  doctrine  and 
form,  will  seldom  beget  sympathy,  we  have 
in  him  the  !'bation  upon  the  sacrifice, — the 
holy  affections  of  his  soul  poured  out  on  the 
solid  products  of  his  understanding,  and  im- 

Earting  to  them  a  delicious  odor  and  irresisti- 
le  jjenctrancy.    In  every  page  of  his  books 


there  is  an  impassioned  earnestness,  a  soul 
subduing  pathos,  which  make  it  impossible 
to  doubt,  that  the  imjiressions  he  strives  lo 
communicate  are  deeply  engraven  on  his 
spirit.  Indeed  he  does  not  seem  so  much  to 
appeal  to  his  readers,  as  unconsciously  to  let 
them  into  the  chamber  of  his  own  soul,  on 
which  lliey  may  see  the  gospel  traced  in  its 
native  lineaments  :  and  may  recognise  the 
loveliness  of  divine  truth  in  the  most  perfect 
union,  of  which  it  is  capable,  with  the  heart 
and  understanding  of  a  frail  and  fallible  mor- 
tal. 

Some  allusion  has  been  dropped  in  this  me- 
moir to  his  excellence  in  the  nuljiit.  Burnet, 
in  eulogizing  his  preaching,  /ironounces  it 
"rather  too  fine:"  and  it  did  undoubtedly 
soar  above  the  flight  of  ordinary  minds,  or  it 
might  rather  be  said  of  minds  not  elevated 
by  habits  of  divine  contemplation.  It  was 
surprisingly  free  from  the  quaint  and  sectarian 
jargon  of  the  day,  as  will  be  seen  by  compar- 
ing his  printed  discourses  with  those  precious 
morsels,  which  are  embalmed  in  a  work,  that 
came  out  shortly  after  the  Revolution,  and  is 
entitled  "  Scotch  Presbyterian  Eloquence 
Displayed."  In  the  sermons  of  Leighton 
there  is  nothing  puerile,  low,  or  ludicrous  ; 
no  fantastic  conceits  and  impertinent  pleas- 
antries ;  no  wild  interpretations  of  scripture 
and  bombastic  rhapsodies  ;  no  desultory  and 
pedantic  excursions.  He  scorned  to  set  oH' 
his  matter,  or  scrupled  to  profane  it,  with  a 
tawdry  dress  and  garish  colors.  His  phrase- 
ology, at  once  sedate  and  noble,  well  becomes 
the  ambassador  of  heaven  ;  and  denotes  a 
profound  veneration  for  the  oracles  ol  God, 
a  pious  dread  of  distorting  their  sense,  and 
giving  a  human  figure  and  color  to  any  por- 
tion of  revelation,  and  an  ardent  desire  to 
convert  thoughtless  sinners,  and  lo  edify 
serious  believers.  Such  were  his  matter  and 
diction,  with  which  his  manner  in  the  pulpit 
comported.  Superior  to  popular  applause,  he 
had  no  peculiarities  about  hisdelivery  ;  unless 
indeed  simplicity,  earnestness,  and  gravity, 
were  at  that  time  uncommon  qualities.  He 
never  aimed  at  efTect  by  oratorical  grimace, 
nor  strove,  as  was  much  the  practice,  to  carry 
his  hearers  by  a  tempest  of  voice  and  gesture  ; 
and  indeed  the  natural  feebleness  of  his  voice 
would  have  interdicted  such  exertions,  had 
his  taste  permitted  them.  But,  when  he 
preached,  the  manner  was  in  admirable  har- 
mony with  the  message  ;  and  so  well  did  the 
majesty  and  beauty  of  his  enunciation  accord 
with  the  solemn  ttEiths  of  which  he  was  the 
herald,  that  the  congregations  he  addressed 
were  subdued  and  enchained,  as  if  by  the 
magic  of  an  unearthy  eloquence. 

The  work,  which  is  the  crown  of  his  pos- 
thumous glory  in  the  universal  church,  is  the 
Commentary  on  the  First  Epistle  of  St.  Pe 
ter.  It  is  a  treasury  of  sound  experimental 
divinity  :  and  argues  an  extraordinary  ripe- 
ness of  Christian  attainments.    If  'vas  prob- 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


51 


ably  delivered  from  the  pulpit,  and  is  drawn 
out  in  the  familiar  form  of  exposition  :  the 
clauses,  and  sometimes  the  emphatic  words, 
of  each  text  being  ordinarily  explained  in 
course,  and  no  artificial  arrangement  observed 
in  discussing  the  several  subjects  introduced 
by  the  apostle.  Still,  the  general  scope  and 
coherence  of  each  passage  are  carefully  kept 
in  view ;  and  the  main  truth,  asserted  or 
proved,  is  never  lost  sight  of,  in  unfolding  the 
particular  propositions  from  which  it  is 
educed.  This  work  will  always  class  among 
the  first  of  uninspired  scriptures ;  and  can 
never  cease  to  constitute  the  admiration  and 
delight  of  the  Christian  and  the  scholar. 
Hinc  lucem  haurire  est,  et  pocula  sacra. 

Next  in  worth  to  this  commentary  are  his 
expositions  of  "  The  Creed,"  "  The  Lord's 
Prayer,"  and  "  The  Ten  Commandments  ;" 
which  seem  to  have  been  carefully  pondered, 
and  are  of  equal  account  as  summaries  of 
fxegetical  and  of  practical  divinity.  The 
fragment  of  a  commentary  not  long  brought 
to  light,  on  the  first  eight  chapters  and  part 
'if  the  ninth  of  St.  Matthew's  gospel,  has 
1  ouches  of  his  fine  genius,  and  is  imbued 
with  his  heavenly  spirit :  but  ii  is  decidedly 
inferior  to  thai  on  the  first  epistle  of  Peter. 
It  consists  of  little  more  than  notes,  with 
which  he  probably  assisted  his  memory  in 
preaching  to  rustic  auditories,  and  wherein 
he  contracts  the  natural  size  of  his  intellect 
to  the  puny  proportions  of  babes.  His  medi- 
tations critical  and  practical  on  Psalnas  iv., 
xxxii.,  and  cxxx.,  translated  from  the  origi- 
nal Latin  under  the  inspection  of  Dr.  Dod- 
dridge ;  and  his  Expository  lectures  on  Psalm 
xxxix.,  and  on  one  or  two  other  portions  of 
Scripture,  have  the  flavor  of  the  parent  soil, 
but  demand  no  particular  comment.  They 
are  sketches  only,  but,  like  fhe  line  of  the 
painter,  they  betray  a  master-hand.  The 
meditations,  which  were  spoken  in  Latin  to 
the  Edinburgh  collegians,  are  felicitous  es- 
says, glistening  with  holy  animation,  and  are 
more  classically  adorned  than  the  expository 
lectures  :  not,  however,  in  a  degree  to  unfit 
them  for  the  closet  of  unlettered  devotion. 

On  his  Rules  and  Instructions  for  a  Holy 
Life,  which  are  comprised  in  a  few  pages, 
some  strictures  are  necessary.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  read  them  without  conceiving  a  great 
opinion  of  the  sanctity  of  the  mind  from 
which  they  issued.  They  are  the  rules  by 
which  his  own  life  were  fashione^l,  and  do 
not,  I  believe,  delineate  a  perfection  much 
exceeding  his  actual  attainments.  Yet  they 
iiocd  to  be  read  with  caution,  being  som«- 
what  tinged  with  mysticism — a  disease  al- 
most peculiar  to  those  who  inhabit  the  high- 
est regions,  and  breathe  the  purest  atmo- 
sphere of  devotion.  Tlie  religion  of  this 
manual  is  doubtless  fhe  religion  of  the  Bible  ; 
but  then  it  is  pushed  into  abstractions,  in  the 
pursuit  of  which  an  ordinary  mind  would  be 
embarrassed  and  utterly  discouraged  ; — al)- 
etraciions  which  go  beyoD<l  what  the  method 


of  Christ  and  his  apostles  authorizes,  or  is 
compatible  with  the  constitution  of  our  na- 
ture, and  the  frame  of  society  resulting  from 
that  constitution.  It  is  one  incomparable  ex- 
cellence of  this  religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  that 
it  does  not  stand  aloof,  and  call  those  who 
would  embrace  it  into  wilds  and  solitudes  ; 
but  it  enters  our  habitations,  eating  and  drink- 
ing,  in  the  form  and  with  the  affections  of 
our  nature  ;  it  mingles  its  pure  and  peace- 
ful and  benignant  influences  with  all  the  va- 
rious commerce  of  life  ;  and  it  converts  man 
to  holiness,  without  displacing  him  from  his 
proper  sphere,  or  disturbing  any  of  those  re- 
lations which  arise  out  of  his  civil  and  do- 
mestic condition.  Leighton  has  not  in  these 
particulars  followed  so  closely,  as  might  have 
been  wished,  in  the  track  of  the  great  Au- 
thor of  Christianity.  Perhaps  it  is  the  ex- 
clusive prerogative  of  a  wisdom,  calm  and 
comprehensive  as  God's,  to  exhibit  a  system, 
which  shall  raise  debased  man  to  the  highest 
perfection  of  which  he  is  capable,  without  de- 
ranging the  order  and  economy  of  the  pres- 
ent world.  When  good  men,  even  with  the 
Bible  before  them,  set  themselves  to  draw 
out  rules  for  the  conduct  of  the  soul,  they  are 
apt  to  overstep  the  simplicity  and  wise  re- 
serve of  scripture  ;  and,  by  too  minute  and  per- 
emptory an  application  of  principles,  which 
the  blessed  Jesus,  with  exemplary  tender- 
ness and  prudence,  left  it  to  each  individual 
to  apply,  they  often  bring  a  snare  upon  the 
conscience,  relax  altogether  the  tottering 
knees,  and  lead  ardent  or  melancholy  spirits 
into  dangerous  subtleties.  I  must  own  my- 
self suspicious  of  the  consequences  of  en- 
hancing upon  Scripture,  and  of  constructing 
a  model,  which  at  first  sight  strikes  the  eye, 
as  being  something  more  lofty  and  spiritual 
than  is  sot  forth  in  the  sacred  records.  To 
aim  at  gratuitous  refinements  in  spirituality 
requires  the  control  of  a  very  sober  judgment 
and  a  deep  humility,  to  prevent  its  being  in- 
jurious to  sound  religious  practice  ;  for  there 
is  danger  of  the  substance  of  Christian  piety 
flying  off  under  too  intense  a  process  of  subli- 
mation. When  men,  instead  of  diligently 
forming  themselves  to  that  plain  and  ])alpa- 
ble  goodness,  which  it  is  the  drift  of  the  gos- 
pel to  inculcate,  aspire  to  something  super- 
human and  angelical,  there  is  reason  to  fear 
lest  they  rest  satisfied  with  the  attempt, 
though  it  be  unprosperous.  Conscience  will 
not  approach  them  for  failing  in  those  extra- 
ordinary efforts,  which  few  have  the  courage 
to  make,  as  it  would  if  th(!y  came  short  of 
the  ordinary  proficiency  of  Christians  ;  and, 
possibly,  in  sirivmg  to  sustain  themselves  in 
regions  too  rare  for  human  piety,  and  in  cha- 
sing a  chimerical  perfection,  they  may  waste 
that  energy  which,  more  humbly  directed, 
would  have  made  them  approved  of  God  and 
useful  to  mankind.  When  Christians  attain, 
indeed,  to  this  height  of  holiness,  they  be- 
come transcendent  luminaries,  peerl(!ss  stars 
of  the  morning,  who  invigorate  and  gladdeo 


t>2 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEluHTC.N. 


thai  lower  body  of  the  clinrch,  round  which 
they  revolve  in  their  superior  orbit.  Be  it  far 
from  nie  and  from  any  Ciirisiian  todepreciaie 
sueh  aims  and  such  attainments.  For  our 
autlior's  vindication  it  is  fully  sufficient,  that 
the  Directory*  in  question  exhibits  the  scope 
of  his  own  divine  ambition,  and  not  the  stand- 
ard by  which  he  measured  others.  A  ma- 
lure  and  intellisrent  Christian  may  at  any  time 
read  it  with  advantasje  ;  and  to  those  who 
are  satisfied  with  a  reliajion  of  form  and  cere- 
mony it  may  also  be  serviceable,  by  acquaint- 
ing them  with  the  tremendous  secret,  that 
they  are  stransjers  to  the  reality  and  power  of 
godliness.  But  it  would  be  unwise  and  un- 
safe to  place  it  in  the  hands  of  novices,  sin- 
cere but  feeble  converts,  lest  they  should  be 
utterly  disheartened,  and  their  pious  aspira- 
tions be  smothered  in  despair.  Whoever  is 
conversant  with  the  "  Imitation  of  Jesus 
Christ,"  that  beautiful  manual  of  devotion, 
which  is  popularlv  ascribed  to  Thomas  :\ 
Keinpis,  will  recognise,  in  the  "  Rules  and 
Instructions  for  a  Holy  Life,"  much  of  the 
same  spirit,  and  the  same  extreme  ideas  of 
self-exinanition  and  total  absorption  in  God. 
Of  both  it  must  be  confessed — as  Pope  Inno- 
cent XII.  observed  of  Fenelon,  to  whom 
Leiffhton  bore  no  slio-ht  resemblance  in  the 
qualities  of  the  mind  and  heart — that  if  they 
erred,  it  was  throuffh  an  exuberant  love  of 
God,  ercessu  amnrix  Dei.  It  was  the  vehe- 
mence of  their  piety  which  hurried  away 
their  judirment  :  and  the  uncommon  mistake 
of  statins?  Christian  perfection  too  high  is  be- 
yond all  dispute  less  momentous,  than  the 
usual  error  of  sinkins?  it  below  the  scriptural 
standard. 

In  the  Latin  Prelections,  which  have  been 
translated  by  Dr.  Fall,  the  principal  doctrines 
of  the  Christian  faith  are  developed  by  our 
Author  with  exquisite  learning,  judofment, 
and  piety.  These  lectures  constitute  a  valu- 
able series  of  theological  instructions  ;  and 
were  probably  delivered  pretty  much  in  the 
order  in  which  they  are  now  arranged.  After 
showing  that  happiness,  of  which  so  strong  a 
desire  is  implanted  in  the  human  breast,  is 
not  to  be  drawn  from  earthly  fountains,  he 
proves  that  an  immortal  nature  must  fetch 
its  joys  from  immortal  sources.  Hence  he  is 
led  to  treat  of  the  existence,  the  nature,  the 
government  of  God,  which  he  does  with 
equal  energy  and  sobriety  :  demonstrating 
the  title  such  a  Bein^'  possesses  to  the  affec- 
tionate alleffiance  of  his  rational  creatures, 
whose  felicity  must  depend  on  their  main- 
taining that  jilace  in  the  moral  s  ,stem  of  the 
universe,  wherein  the  wise  economy  of  the 
Creator  hath  fixed  them.  He  then  represents 
the  extensive  rum  that  ensued  from  the  de- 
fection of  Adam  ;  and  goes  on  to  the  repara- 

•  It  ou^ht  perhaps  to  be  mentioned  that  the  genu- 
Ineiie'-s  of  this  Directory  has  l)ern  suspected  :  but  I 
would  venture  to  suggest  that  the  impress  it  bears  of 
the  spirit  and  style  of  Leighton  demonstrably  at- 
tests its  legitimacy. 


'  tion  achieved  by  Messiah,  of  the  mjurv  donr 
to  God  by  the  primal  sin,  and  of  the  destrue- 

I  tion  it  brought  upon  mankind.  The  nature 
of  Christian  salvation  is  further  developed, 
as  consisting  in  the  engrafting  of  vital  and 
immortal  ])rincii)les  in  the  soul  by  the  myste 
rious  energy  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  which  pro- 
cess constitutes  the  true  adoption  of  sinner* 
through  the  i»avior,  and  is  their  tempora.  in- 
itiation to  the  enjoyment  of  life  eternal 
Moreover  he  expatiates,  with  great  beauty 
and  emphasis,  on  the  happiness  of  a  life 
regulated  by  the  fear  of  God  and  by  the  rules 
of  the  ffospcl  ;  and  he  exhorts  the  students 
to  put  forth  all  their  ardor  in  prosecuting  that 
divine  science,  which  lays  open  the  passage 
to  imperishable  glory. 

The  style  of  these  lectures  justifies  Bur- 
net's commendation  of  our  Author's  latinity. 
Not  formed  upim  any  one  particular  pattern, 
but  pure,  simjile,  and  flowing,  his  dic"on  in- 
dicates a  lanje  and  critical  acquaintance  with 
the  best  model.  It  is  the  pliraseology  of  a 
man  who  thought  in  Latin,  and  not  of  one 
who  clothed  in  a  foreign  dress  ideas  which 
were  pre-conceived  in  his  native  tongue. 
Hence  these  dissertations  are  not  mere  jinsrle 
and  glitter,  but  are  solid  and  argumentative. 
Useless  words  and  phrases  are  never  in- 
troduced to  embellish  a  period  :  nor  does  an 
apt  thought  ever  seem  to  be  abandoned  too 
soon,  or  imperfectly  evolved,  from  the  writer 

j  being  at  a  difficulty  how  to  imbody  it  in  a 
strange  language.  He  moves  in  Roman  ar- 
mor with  as  little  embarrassment  as  in  a  na- 
tive garb.  In  these  lectures,  moreover,  which 
were  addressed  to  literary  students,  Leigh  ton 
permits  himself  to  quote  largely  from  hea- 
then authors  :  and  one  is  struck  with  amaze- 
ment at  the  extent  of  his  erudition,  which  is 
not  ostentatiously  exposed,  but  comes  in 
most  appropriately  wherever  it  can  avail  to 
throw  light  upon  the  subjects  he  is  treating. 

I  The  whole  volume  of  profane  literature 
seems  to  be  unrolled  before  him,  and  is  not 
too  expanded  for  his  ample  survey.  The 

]  philosophers,  the  poets,  the  historians  of 
Rome  and  Athens  :  all  the  sons  of  science, 
whether  Jews  or  Gentiles,  ancient  or  mod- 
ern :  all  are  cited  to  pay  the  various  homage, 
enjoined  by  natural  reason  or  primeval  tra- 
dition, to  the  being,  the  perfections,  the  nat- 
ural and  moral  government  of  God  ;  and  to 
confirm  the  need  of  a  revelation,  which 
should  capacitate  mankind  to  recover,  undei 
a  new  grant  and  title,  the  honors,  possessions 
and  immunities  forfeited  by  disobedience. 

The  Parajneses  were  short  exhortations  to 
the  scholars  about  to  graduate,  and  were 
composed  in  Latin.  In  them  it  is  the  speak- 
er's great  endeavor  to  guard  his  auditors 
against  an  overweening  estimate  of  human 
learning  and  literary  honors,  and  to  incite 
them  to  strive  after  that  genuine  theosophy, 
which  consists  in  a  knowledge  of  God  as  he 
reveals  himself  to  mankind  in  the  Gospel, 
Each  of  these  hortatory  addresses  concludes 


TIIE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


5? 


with  a  beautiful  and  appropriate  prayer  ;  and 
they,  as  well  as  the  lectures,  breathe  an  af- 
fectionate desire  to  turn  the  hearts  of  the 
collegians  from  that  vain  knowledge  which 
increaseth  sorrow,  to  that  true  and  heavenly 
wisdom  by  which  all  who  possess  it  are  ex- 
alted to  honor. 

Dr.  Fall,  and  not  Bishop  Burnet,  as  has 
been  erroneously  asserted,  was  the  original 
editor  of  Leighton's  works.  The  first  of 
them  which  saw  the  light,  was  a  volume  of 
eighteen  sermons,  printed  in  London,  1692, 
expressly  stated  to  be  copied  "from  his  pa- 
pers written  wiih  his  own  hand."  It  is  ac- 
companied with  a  preface  by  the  Editor,  of 
which  the  following  is  an  extract :  "  To  the 
pious  and  devout  reader.  The  Discourses, 
here  published,  are  but  a  small  taste  of  a 
great  many  more,  that  were  written  by  the 
same  most  reverend  author.  A  judgment 
will  be  made  from  the  reception  these  meet 
with,  concerning  the  publishing  other  dis- 
courses by  the  same  pen.  His  composures 
in  Latin  (which  appear  to  have  been  written 
and  delivered  when  he  was  principal  of  the 
College  of  Edinburgh)  are  also  transcribing 
for  the  press,  and  may  in  a  convenient  tiiue 
see  the  light,  for  they  need  not  fear  it." 
Accordingly,  in  1693,  his  Prcelectiones  Thco- 
logicije  came  out  in  quarto,  with  a  preface  in 
the  same  language,  by  Dr.  Fall,  printed  in 
London.  The  next  portion  of  his  works, 
produced  to  the  public,  seems  to  have  been 
the  "  Commentary  on  Peter,"  Vol.  I.,  4to. 
York,  1693.  In  an  advertisement  prefixed  to 
this  volume,  Dr.  Fall  alludes  to  the  favor- 
able reception  of  his  former  works.  The 
second  volume  of  this  Coinnieiitary  was  pub- 

Iished,  London,  1694  ;  and  in  the  preface, 
)r.  Fall  mentions  that  he  has  still  in  his 
hands  some  brief  discourses  by  Leighton  on 
the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  and  also  his 
expositions  of  the  Decalogue,  the  Creed,  and 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  which  might  hereafter  be 
printed.  These,  except  the  discources  on 
the  Epistles  to  the  Ephesians,  came  out, 
Lond.  1701,  8vo.,  together  with  his  two  dis- 
courses, one  on  St.  Matthew  xxii.  37,  38,39; 
the  other  on  Heb.  viii.  10 :  to  which  was 
annexed  a  short  catechism.  There  was  also 
published  a  volume  of  "  Tracts,"  12  mo. 
London,  1708  ;  which  comprised  the  Rules 
for  a  Holy  Life,  one  Sermon,  and  the  Cate- 
chism. The  later  editions  of  his  works  are 
sufficiently  known. 

It  may  gratify  some  readers  to  have  the 
will  of  Archbishop  Leighton,  and  some  par- 
ticulars of  the  disposition  of  his  property 
subjoined,  along  with  the  most  probable  ac- 
count of  his  ecclesiastical  income.  The  fol- 
lowmg  is  the  will : — 

Al  nroadhurxl,  Feb.  17,  1C83. 
Being  at  present  (thanks  be  to  God)  in  my 
accustomed  health  of  Ixjdy  and  soundness  of 
minn  and  memory,  I  do  write  this  with  my  ! 
:>wn  hand,  to  signify,  that  when  the  day  I  so  , 


much  wished  and  longed  for  is  come,  that 
shall  set  me  free  of  this  prison  of  clay  wherein 
I  am  lodged,  what  I  leave  behind  me  of  mon- 
ey, goods,  or  chattels,  or  whatsoever  of  an', 
kind  was  called  mine,  I  do  devote  to  char 
itable  uses  ;  partly  such  as  I  have  recom- 
mended particularly  to  my  sister  Mrs.  S^ip- 
phira  Lightmaker,  and  her  son  Master  Ed- 
ward Lightmaker  of  Broadhurst,  and  the  re- 
mainder to  such  other  charities  as  their  own 
discretion  shall  think  fittest.  Only  I  desire 
each  of  them  to  accept  of  a  small  token  ol 
a  little  grateful  acknowledgment  of  theii 
'  great  kindness,  and  trouble  they  have  had 
with  me  for  some  years  that  I  was  their 
guest,  the  proportion  whereof  (to  remove 
their  scruple  of  taking  it)  I  did  expressly 
name  to  themselves,  while  I  was  with  them, 
before  the  writing  hereof,  and  likewise  aftei 
I  have  wrote  it.  But  they  need  not  give  any 
accomit  of  it  to  any  other,  the  whole  being 
left  to  their  disposal.  Neither  I  hope  will 
any  other  friends  or  relations  of  mine  take  it 
unkind,  that  1  bequeath  no  legacy  to  any  of 
them,  designing,  as  is  said,  so  entirely  to 
charity  the  whole  remaijis.  Only  my  book? 
I  leave  and  bequeath  to  the  Cathedral  of 
Dunblane  in  Scotland,  to  remain  there  foi 
the  use  of  the  clergy  of  that  diocess.  I  think 
I  need  no  more,  but  that  I  appoint  my  said 
sister,  Mrs.  Sapphira  Lightmaker  of  Broad- 
hurst, and  her  son,  Mr.  Edward  Lightmaker 
of  Broadhurst,  joint  executors  of  this  my 
will, — if  they  be  both  living  at  my  decease, 
as  I  hope  they  shall ;  or  if  that  one  of  them 
shall  be  surviving,  that  one  is  to  be  the  sole 
executor  of  it.  I  hope  none  will  raise  any 
question  or  doubt  about  this  upon  any  omis- 
sion or  informality  of  expression  in  it;  being 
for  prevention  thereof  as  plainly  expressed 
as  it  could  be  conceived  by  me.  And  this  I 
declare  to  be  the  last  will  and  testament  of 
Robert  Leighton. 

We  have  already  had  occasion  to  observe, 
that  his  expenditure  upon  himself  was  fru- 
gal almost  to  parsimony,  but  from  this  fru- 
gality no  accumulation  resulted.  One  great 
object  of  his  self-denial  was  to  provide  funds 
for  the  dissemination  of  sound  religious  learn- 
ing. Accordingly,  when  principal  of  the 
University  of  Edinburgh,  he  presented  that 
city  with  150/.  sterling  for  the  support  of  a 
bursary  or  scholarship  in  j)hilosophy.  Glas- 
gow also  is  indebted  to  this  venerable  man 
for  two  bursaries,  which  are  destined  to  as- 
sist in  the  maintenance  of  two  students,  for 
the  space  of  six  years ;  the  first  four  to  be 
spent  in  philosophical  pursuits,  and  the  las. 
two  in  the  study  of  divinity  :  and  sIkjuUI  the 
student  not  be  otherwise  provided  for,  or 
wish  to  continue  his  theological  studies,  tne 
magis;rates  and  council  are  authorized  to 
prolong  his  tenure  of  the  studentship,  for 
two  or  three  additional  years.  In  the  elec- 
tion of  scholars,  the  trustees  are  not  limited 
to  any  p;iriicular  description  of  persons;  but 


54 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


tliey  are  required  to  present  two  candidates,  j  was  the  poorest  in  Scotland,  except  those  of 
when  a  l)ursary  lias  become  vacant,  for  a  Caithness  and  Ar^vle.  Shortly  alter  the 
trial  of  their  comparative  merits;  and  the  .  Refurniatiou,  its  rental  was  taken  at  313/. 
one  reported  by  the  examiners  to  be  the  best  !  per  annum,  in  money,  besides  a  slated  allt  w- 
qiialilied,  is  t-j  receive  a  presentatitm  from  ance  of  <^\:un:  but  then  there  were  several 
the  orticers  of  the  town.  The  annual  value  livings  annexed  to  it.  In  the  valuation  book 
of  each  bursary  is  9/.  sterling.  In  one  of  the  of  Aberdeenshire,  the  Kisluip  of  Dunblane  is 
deeds  which  conferred  this  lienetit  on  iiidi-  styled  parson  of  Muiiimusk,  the  reason  of 
gent  students,  150/.  was  devised  to  the  lios-  which  is,  that,  at  Monimusk,  there  was  for- 
piial  of  St.  Nicholas  in  Glasgow,  for  two  nierly  a  priory,  the  proceeds  of  which  were 
poor  men  of  good  report.  Three  paupers  are  assigned  by  James  the  Sixth,  in  ]()17,  to  the 
now  enjoying  the  benefit  of  this  legacy ;  which  see  of  Dunblane.  It  was  this  prince  who 
produces  4/.  lOs.  annually  for  each  pensioner,  augmented  it  with  the  deanery  of  the  royal 
To  the  diocess  of  Dunblane,  which  was  ill  cha])el,  wb.ich  was  considerably  lucrative  ; 
provided  with  books,  he  bequeathed  his  val-  and  he  sujieradded  the  abbey  of  Cross-raguel 
uable  library  ;  and  after  his  removal  thence,   in  Ayrshire. 

he  made  over  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  a  If  all  these  golden  rivulets  poured  into 
considerable  sum  of  money,  due  to  him  from  Dunblane,  when  Leigliton  was  its  diocesan, 
a  gentleman  of  that  place,  which  money  was  he  would  be  sufliciently  opulent.  But  it  is 
afterward  paid,  and  appropriated  agreeably  more,  than  probable,  that  several  of  them 
to  the  intentions  of  the  benefactor.  ]  were  dried  up,  or  intercepted,  and  that  only 

It  is  not  easy  to  ascertain  the  precise  a  small  jjrojiortion  of  the  nominal  rental 
amount  of  his  income,  Avlien  he  was  Bishop  flowed  into  the  episcopal  reservoir.  This 
of  Dunblane.  Most  likely  the  revenues  of  proportion  would  be  further  diminished  by 
the  see,  together  with  the  salary  accruing  the  excessive  indulgence,  Avith  which  he 
from  the  Chapel  Royal  at  Stirling,  of  which  always  listened  to  defaulters,  who  jileaded 
the  diocesan  of  Dunblane  was  Dean  by  right  poverty  in  excuse  for  not  making  good  their 
of  office,  did  not  exceed  200/.   That  bishopric  ,  payments. 


TWO  LETTERS  COMMONLY  REPUTE 

BISHOP  OF 

LETTER  I. 

Sir  :  In  the  late  conference  I  had  with 
your  friend,  the  sum  of  what  1  said  was  this : 

1.  That  episcopal  government,  managed 
in  conjunction  with  presbyters  in  jiresbyte- 
ries  and  synods,  is  not  contrary  either  to  the 
rule  of  Scripture,  or  the  example  of  the  prim- 
itive church,  but  most  agreeable  to  both. 

2.  Yea,  it  is  not  contrary  to  thai  very  cov- 
enant, which  is  pretended  by  so  many  as  the 
main,  if  not  the  only  reason  of  their  scru- 
pling ;  and  for  their  sakes  it  is  necessary  to 
add  this.  For  notwithstanding  the  many 
irregularities  both  in  the  matter  and  form  of 
that  covenant,  and  the  illeiral  and  violent 
ways  of  pressing  and  prosecuting  of  it,  yet 
to  thern  who  remain  under  the  conscience  of 
its  full  force  and  obligation,  and  in  that  seem 
invincibly  persuaded,  it  is  certainly  most 
pertinent,  if  it  it  bi;  true,  to  declare  the  con- 
sistence of  the  even  present  government  with 
that  obligation.  And  as  both  these  asser- 
tions, I  believe,  upon  the  exactest  (if  impar- 
tial and  impassionate)  inquiry,  will  be  found 

o  be  in  themselves  true  ;  so  they  are  owned 
(jy  the  generality  of  the  presbyierians  in 
'Enicland  :  as  themselves  have  ])ublished  their 
ornnion  in  print  under  this  title,  Two  Papers 


:D  to  have  BEEN  WRITTEN  BY  THE 
DUNBLANE. 

\of  proposals  humbly  presenlerl  to  his  Majesty 
by  the  Reverend  Ministers  of  the  Preshyte- 
rian  Persuasion,  Printed  at  London,  Anno 
1660.  ' 

Besides  other  passages  in  these  papers  to 
the  same  purpose,  at  pages  11  and  12,  are 
these  words  ;  "And  as  these  are  our  general 
ends  and  motives,  so  we  are  induced  to  insist 
upon  the  form  of  a  synodical  government, 
I  conjunct  with  a  fixed  presidency  ;  for  these 
reasons  : 

I  1.  "  We  have  reason  to  believe  that  no 
other  terms  will  be  so  generally  agreed  on,  &c. 

2.  "  It  being  agreeable  to  the  Scripture 
atid  primitive  government,  is  likeliest  to  bt 
the  way  of  a  more  universal  concord,  if  eve) 

j  the  churches  on  earth  arrive  at  such  a  hies 
'  sinir  ;  however  it  will  be  most  acceptable  to 
God,  and  well-informed  consciences. 

3.  "  It  will  promote  the  practice  of  disci- 
1  pline  and  godliness  without  disorder,  and  pro- 
]  mole  order  without  hindering  discipline  and 

godliness. 

4.  "  And  it  is  not  to  be  silenced  (though  in 
some  respects  we  are  loath  to  mention  it)  that 
it  will  save  the  nation  from  the  violation  of 
their  solemn  vow  and  covenant,  without 
wronging  the  church  at  all,  or  breaking  any 
other  oath,"  &c.    And  a  little  after  they  a('d, 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


59 


that  the  prelacy  disclaimed  in  that  covenant 
was,  the  engrossing  of  the  sole  power  of  or- 
dination and  jurisdiction,  and  exercising  of 
the  whole  discipline  absolutely  by  bishops 
themselves,  and  their  delegates,  chancellors, 
surrogates,  and  officials,  &c.,  excluding  whol- 
ly the  pastors  of  particular  churches  from  all 
share  in  it.  And  there  is  one  of  prime  note 
among  them,  who,  in  a  large  treatise  of 
church-government,  doth  clearly  evince,  that 
this  was  the  mind  both  of  the  parliament  of 
England,  and  of  the  assembly  of  Divines  at 
Westmmister,  as  they  themselves  did  ex- 
pressly declare  it,  in  the  admitting  of  the  cov- 
enant, "  that  they  understand  it  not  to  be 
against  all  episcopacy,  but  only  against  the 
particular  frame,  as  it  is  worded  in  the  arti- 
cle itself :  for  our  principal  model  in  Eng- 
land, and  the  way  of  managing  of  it,  what- 
soever is  amiss  (and  it  can  be  no  wrong  to 
make  that  supposition  concerning  any  church 
on  earth)  or  whatsoever  they  apprehend  to 
be  amiss,  though  it  may  be  upon  mistake,  the 
brethren  that  are  dissatisfied  had  possibly 
better  acquitted  their  duty  by  free  admoni- 
tions and  significations  of  their  own  sense  in 
all  things,  than  by  leaving  of  their  station, 
which  is  the  one  thing  that  hath  made  the 
breach  (I  fear)  very  hard  to  cure,  and  in  hu- 
man appearance  near  to  incurable  :  but  there 
is  much  charity  due  to  them,  as  following 
the  dictates  of  their  own  conscience  :  and 
they  owe,  and  I  hope,  pay  the  same  back 
again  to  those  that  do  the  same  in  another 
way  :  and  whatsoever  may  be  the  readiest 
and  happiest  way  of  reuniting  those  that  are 
nmtually  so  minded,  the  Lord  reveal  it  to 
them  HI  due  time."  This  one  word  I  shall 
add,  that  this  dilTercnce  should  arise  to  so 
great  a  height,  may  seem  somewliat  strange 
to  any  man  that  calmly  considers,  that  there 
is  in  this  church  no  change  at  all,  neither  in 
the  doctrine  nor  worship,  no  nor  in  the  sub- 
stance of  the  discipline  itself :  but  when  it 
falls  on  matters  easily  inflammable,  how  lit- 
tle a  spark,  how  great  a  fire  will  kindle  ? 

Because  every  one  hath  not  the  book,  I 
have  transcribed  here  Mr.  Baxter's  own 
words.  Box.  of  Church  Government,  P.  III., 
c.  i.,  p.  276  :— 

"  An  Episcopacy  desirable  for  the  reforma- 
tion and  peace  of  the  churches.  A  fixed  pres- 
ident duranlc.  viln,  pp.  2^)1,  330.  But  some 
will  say,  we  are  engaged  against  ail  prelacy 
by  covenant,  and  iherefore  can  not  yield  to  so 
much  as  you  do  witlumt  perjury.  Ans.  That 
this  is  utterly  untrue,  I  thus  demonstrate : — 

1.  "  When  that  covenant  was  presented  to 
tlie  assembly  with  the  bare  name  of  j)relacy 
joined  fo  popery,  many  grave  and  reverend 
divines  desired  that  the  word  prelacy  might 
be  explained  hecause  it  was  not  all  episco- 

fiacy  they  wert  against,  and  thereupon  the 
ollowing  concatenation  in  the  parenthe- 
sis was  given  by  way  of  explication  in  these 
Words  :  That  is  church-sovernment  by  arch- 
bishops, bishops,  their  chancellors  and  com- 


missaries, deans  and  chapters,  archdeans,  and 
all  the  other  ecclesiastical  officers  depending 
on  that  hierarchy.  By  which  ii  appears  that 
it  was  only  the  English  hierarchy,  or  frame, 
that  was  covenanted  against,  and  that  which 
was  then  existent  that  was  taken  down. 

2.  "  When  the  House  of  Lords  took  the 
covenant,  Mr.  Thomas  Coleman,  that  gave 
it  them,  did  so  explain  it,  and  profess  that 
it  was  not  their  intent  to  covenant  against 
all  episcopacy,  and  upon  this  explication  it 
was  taken  ;  and  certainly  the  parliament  was 
most  capable  of  giving  the  due  sense  of  it, 
because  it  was  they  that  did  impose  it. 

3.  "  And  it  could  not  be  all  episcopacy  that 
was  excluded,  because  a  parochial  episcopa- 
cy was  at  the  same  time  used  and  approved 
commonly  here  in  England. 

4.  "  And  in  Scotland  they  had  used  the 
help  of  visiters  for  the  reformation  of  their 
churches,  committing  the  care  of  a  country 
or  circuit  to  some  one  man,  which  was  as 
high  a  sort  of  episcopacy,  at  least  as  any  I 
am  pleading  for.  Besides  they  that  had  mod- 
erators in  all  their  synods,  which  were  tem- 
porary bishops. 

5.  "  Also  the  chief  divines  of  the  late  as- 
sembly at  Westminister,  that  recommended 
that  covenant  to  the  nations,  have  professed 
their  own  judgments  for  such  a  moderate 
episcopacy  as  I  am  here  defending,  and  there- 
fore never  intended  the  exclusion  of  this  by 
covenant." 

After  he  adds,  "  As  we  have  prelacy  to 
beware  of,  so  we  have  the  contrary  extreme 
to  avoid,  and  the  church's  peace  (if  it  may 
be)  to  procure  ;  and  as  we  must  not  take 
down  the  ministry,  lest  it  prepare  men  for 
ei)iscopacy,  so  neither  must  we  be  against 
any  profitable  exercise  of  the  ministr)',  or  de- 
sirable order  among  them,  for  fear  of  intro- 
ducing prelacy."  Thus  far  Baxter's  own 
words. 

There  is  another  that  hath  writ  a  treatise 
on  purpose,  and  that  zealous  and  strict 
enough,  touching  the  obligation  of  the  league 
and  covenant,  under  the  name  of  Theophilus 
Tirnorcus.  And  yet  therein  it  is  expressly 
asserted,  that  "  however,  at  first,  it  might 
appear  that  the  parliament  had  renounced 
all  episcopacy,  yet  upon  stricter  inquiry,  it 
was  evident  to  the  author,  that  that  very 
scruple  was  made  by  some  members  in  par- 
liament, and  resolved  (with  the  consent  of 
their  brethren  in  Scotland)  that  the  cove- 
nant  was  only  intended  against  prelacy  as 
then  it  was  in  being  in  England,  leaving  a 
latitude  for  episcopacy,"  &c. 

It  would  be  noted  that  when  that  cove- 
nant was  framed,  there  was  no  episcopacy  at 
all  in  being  in  Scotland,  but  in  England  only  ; 
so  that  the  extirpation  of  that  frame  only 
could  then  be  meant  and  intended,  [likewise 
it  would  be  considered,  that  tliouirh  there  is 
in  Scotland  at  present  the  name  of  dean,  and 
chapter,  and  commissaries,  yet  that  none  of 
those  at  all  do  exercise  any  part  of  the  dis 


56 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


cipline  under  tnat  name,  neither  any  other,  | 
as  chanccUor  or  surrogate,  &:c.,  by  deleiia- 
jon  from  bishops,  with  a  total  exclusion  of" 
the  connnunity  of  jiresbyiers  from  all  poAVor 
and  share  in  it,  which  is  the  great  ])oint  of 
difference  betwixt  that  mode!  ind  this  with 
us,  and  imports  so  much  as  to  the  main  of 
discipline.  1  do  not  deny  that  the  generality 
of  the  people,  yea  even  of  niinislers  in  Scot- 
land, when  they  took  the  covenant,  might 
likewise  understand  that  article  as  against 
all  episcopacy  whatsoever,  even  the  most 
moderate,  esi)ecially  if  it  should  be  restored 
under  the  express  name  of  bishops  and  arch- 
bishops ;  never  considering  huw  different  the 
n  Ature,  and  model,  and  way  of  exercising  it 
t  ay  be,  though  under  the  same  names,  and 
t-  at  the  due  regulating  of  tl»e  thing  is  much 
»  ore  to  be  regarded  than  either  the  retain- 
b  f  or  altering  of  the  name.  But  though 
»-  ey  did  not  then  consider  any  such  thing, 
),  t  certainly  it  concerns  them  now  to  con- 
der  it,  when  it  is  represented  to  them,  that 
W  It  only  the  words  of  the  oath  itself  do  very 
^  .'nuinely  consist  with  such  a  qualified  and 
u  stinctive  sense,  but  that  the  very  compo- 
sers or  imposers  of  it,  or  a  considerable  part 
of  them,  did  so  understand  and  intend  it. 
And  unless  they  make  it  appear  that  the 
episcopacy  now  in  question  with  us  in  Scot- 
land is  either  contrary  to  the  word,  or  to  that 
mitigated  sense  of  their  own  oath,  it  would 
seem  more  suitable  to  Christian  charity  and 
moderation,  rather  to  yield  to  it  as  tolerable,  j 
at  least,  than  to  continue  so  inflexibly  fast  to 
their  first  mistakes  and  excessive  zeal,  as  for  j 
love  of  it  to  divide  from  their  church,  and 
break  the  bond  of  peace. 

It  may  likewise  be  granted,  that  some 
learned  men  in  England,  who  refused  to  take 
the  covenant,  did  possibly  except  against 
that  article  of  it,  as  signifying  the  total  re- 
U' inciation  and  abolition  of  all  episcopacy; 
a^d  seeing  that  was  the  real  event  and  con- 
st quent  of  it,  and  they  having  many  o,'her 
st'ong  and  weighty  reasons  for  refusing  it,  it 
is  no  wonder  that  they  were  little  curious  to 
inquire  what  passed  amongst  the  contrivers 
ot  it,  and  what  distinction  or  difl'erent  senses 
either  the  words  of  that  article  might  admit, 
or  those  contrivers  might  intend  by  them. 
And  the  truth  is,  that  besides  many  - other 
evils,  the  iniquity  and  unhappiness  of  such 
oaths  and  covenants  lie  much  in  this,  that 
being  commonly  framed  by  persons  that, 
even  among  themselves,  are  not  fully  of  one 
mind,  but  have  their  different  opinions  and 
interests  to  serve  (and  it  was  so  even  in  this,) 
they  are  commonly  patched  up  of  so  many 
eeveral  articles  and  clauses,  and  those  too  of 
so  versatile  and  ambiguous  terms,  that  they 
prove  most  wretched  snares,  thickets  of  bri- 
ers and  thorns  to  the  consciences  of  those 
that  are  engaged  in  them,  and  matters  of 
endless  contentions  and  disputes  among  them 
about  the  true  sense  and  intendment,  and  the 
tie  and  obligeryeuls  of  those  doubtful  clau- 


ses, especially  in  some  such  alteratioiis  an* 
revolutions  of  affairs  as  always  may,  and 
often  do,  even  within  few  years  follow  after 
them  ;  for  the  models  and  productions  of  such 
devices  are  not  usually  lung-lived.  And 
whatsoever  may  be  said  for  their  excuse  in 
whole  or  in  part,  who,  in  yieldance  to  the 
power  that  pressed  it,  ai\d  the  general  o{)in- 
ion  of  this  church  at  that  time,  did  lake  that 
covenant  in  the  most  moderate  and  least 
schismatical  sense  that  the  terms  can  admit ; 
yet,  I  know  ri"t  what  can  be  said  to  clear 
them  of  a  very  great  sin,  that  not  only  fram- 
ed such  an  engine,  but  violently  imposed  it 
upon  all  ranks  of  men,  not  ministers  and 
other  public  persons  only,  but  the  whole  body 
and  community  of  the  people,  thereby  en- 
gaging such  droves  of  poor  ignorant  persons, 
to  they  know  not  what,  and,  to  si)eak  freely, 
to  such  a  hodge-podge  of  varit)us  concern- 
ments, religious  and  civil,  as  church  disci- 
|)line  and  government,  the  privileges  of  par- 
liament and  liberties  uf  subjects,  and  con- 
dign punishment  of  malignants,  things  hard 
enough  for  the  wisest  and  leaniedest  to  draw 
the  just  lines  of,  and  to  give  plain  definitions 
and  decisions  of  them,  and  therefore  cer- 
tainly as  far  off  from  the  reach  of  poor  coun- 
try people's  understanding,  as  from  the  true 
interests  of  their  souls  ;  and  yet  to  tie  them 
by  a  religious  and  sacred  oath  either  to  know 
all  these,  or  to  contend  for  them  blindfold 
without  knowing  them,  can  there  be  instan- 
ced a  greater  oppression  and  tyranny  over 
consciences  than  this  ?  Certainly  they  that 
now  govern  in  this  church  can  not  be  cliarg- 
ed  with  anything  near  or  like  unto  it ;  for 
whatsoever  they  require  of  intrants  to  the 
ministry,  they  require  neither  subscriptions 
nor  oaths  of  ministers  already  entered,  and 
far  less  of  the  whole  body  of  the  people ; 
and  it  were  ingenuously  done  to  take  some 
notice  of  any  point  of  moderation,  or  what- 
soever else  is  really  commendable  even  in 
those  we  account  our  greatest  enemies,  and 
not  to  take  any  part  in  the  world  for  the  ab- 
solute standard  and  unfailing  rule  of  truth 
and  righteousness  in  all  things. 

But  oh,  who  would  not  long  for  the  shad- 
ows of  the  evening,  and  to  be  at  rest  from 
all  these  poor  childish  trifling  contests  ! 

P.  S.  Whatsoever  was  the  occasion  of 
copying  out  the  passages  cited  in  this  paper 
and  cjf  adding  these  few  thoughts  that  thep 
occurred  tout^hing  that  subject,  I  would  havt 
neither  of  them  understood  as  intended  any 
way  to  reflect  upon  or  judge  other  churches 
1  where  this  government  is  otherwise  exer- 
cised ;  but  what  is  here  said  is  only  aro-u- 
7nentum  ad  hflininern,  and  particularly  adapted 
to  the  persons,  and  notions,  and  scruples  we 
have  to  do  withal  in  this  church.  And 
though  this  is  designed  to  come  to  very  few 
hands,  yet  I  wish  that  what  is  here  repre- 
sented were  by  some  better  way  brought  tc 
the  notice  of  such  as  know  least  of  it  and 


IHE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHCT  LEIGHTON. 


57 


need  it  most,  that,  if  it  be  possible,  their  ex- 
treme fervor  might  be  somewhat  allayed  by 
this  consideration,  that  this  very  form  of 
government,  which  is  so  hateful  to  them,  is 
by  the  presbyterians  of  the  neighbor  king- 
dom accounted  a  thing,  not  only  tolerable, 
but  desirable  :  and  I  might  add,  that  upon 
due  inquiry,  the  reformed  churches  abroad 
will  be  found  in  a  great  part  much  of  the 
same  opinion  ;  yea,  I  am  not  afraid  to  say 
yet  further,  that  I  think  there  is  good  reason 
to  believe,  that  it  were  not  only  lawful  for 
these  that  now  govern  in  this  church,  but  if 
prejudice  hindered  not,  might  prove  expe- 
dient and  useful  for  the  good  of  the  church 
itself,  that  they  did  use  in  some  instances  a 
little  more  authority  than  they  do,  and  yet 
might  still  be  very  far  7f[  from  proud  and 
tyrannical  domination,  never  applying  their 
power  to  obstruct  what  is  good,  but  to  ad- 
vance it,  and  not  at  all  against  the  truth,  but 
always  for  it,  and  while  they  do  so,  the  athe- 
ism and  profaneness  that  abounds  can  not 
reasonably  be  imputed  to  the  nature  of  the 
government,  as  too  commonly  it  is  by  some, 
but  rather  to  the  schism  that  is  niade  by 
withdrawing  and  dividing  from  it ;  for  there 
ii  not  a  greater  enemy  in  the  world  lo  the 
power  of  religion  than  the  wranglings  and 
bitter  contentions,  that  are  caused  about  the  \ 
external  forms  of  it.    VAofifn  ipixn,  dpfifri  <iA>n- 
OTTUTc  iinnf  <r,<r/AiT/c,  as  Nazianzen  pathetically 
begins  one  of  his  orations  for  peace.    I  con- 
fess I  have  sometimes  wondered  to  see  some 
wise  and  good  men,  after  all  that  can  be 
said  to  them,  make  so  great  reckoning  of 
certain  metaphysical  exceptions  against  some 
little  words  and  formalities  of  diiference  in 
the  government,  and  set  so  little  value  upon 
so  great  a  thing  as  is  the  peace  of  the  church. 
Oh,  when  shall  the  loud  and  harsh  noises  of 
our  debates  be  turned  to  the  sweeter  sound 
of  united  prayers  for  this  blessed  peace,  that 
we  might  cry  with  one  heart  and  voice  to  I 
the  God  of  peace,  who  alone  can  give  it,  I 
Pacem  te  pnscim-us  nnines  :  and  if  we  be  real 
supplicants  for  it,  we  would  beware  of  being 
the  disapjiointers  of  our  own  desires,  and  of 
obstructing  the  blessing  we  pray  for,  and 
therefore  wcmid  mainly  study  a  temper  re- 
ceptive of  it,  and  that  is,  great  meekness 
and  charily  :  and  certainly  whatsoever  party 
or  opinion  we  follow  in  this  matter,  the  badge 
by  which  we  must  be  known  to  the  follow- 
ers of  Jesus  Christ  is  this,  that  we  love  one 
another,  and  tiiat  law  unquestionably  is  of 
divine  right,  and  therefore  would  not  be  bro- 
ken by  bitter  passion  and  revilings,  and  root- 
ed hatreds  one  against  another,  for  things 
about  which  the  right  is  in  dispute  betwixt 
us  ;  and  however  that  be,  are  we  Christians? 
Then  doubtless  the  things  wherein  we  agree 
are  incomi)arably  greater  than  these  wherein 
we  disagree,  and   thcrefcjre    in  all  rea<ion 
should  be  more  powerful  to  unite  us,  than  the 
other  tc  divide  us.    But  to  restrain  myself, 
•ad  stop  iiere, — if  we  love  both  our  own  and 


the  ch  irch's  peace,  there  be  two  things  I 
conceii  ;  we  should  most  carefully  avoid,  the 
bestowing  too  great  zeal  upon  small  things, 
and  too  much  confidence  of  opinion  upon 
doubtful  things :  it  is  a  mad  thing  to  rus^i  on 
hard  and  boldly  in  the  dark,  and  we  all  know 
what  kind  of  person  it  is  of  whom  Solomon 
says,  That  he  rages  and  is  confident. 


LETTER  IL 


Sir  :  The  question  betwixt  us,  is  not  con- 
cerning bishops  governing  absolutely  by 
themselves  and  their  delegates,  but  concern- 
ing bishops  governing  in  conjunction  with 
presbyters  in  presbyteries  and  synods  ;  of 
which  we  affirm,  that  it  is  neither  contrary 
to  the  Scriptures,  nor  the  example  of  the 
primitive  church,  but  most  agreeable  to  both  : 
if  any  think  otherwise,  let  them  produce  their 
evidences  of  Scripture  and  antiquity.  If 
they  say,  it  is  not  enough  to  make  such  a 
form  lawful,  that  it  is  not  contrary  to  Scrip- 
ture, but  there  ought  to  be  an  express  com- 
mand or  rule  in  Scripture  to  warrant  it,  they 
will  sure  be  so  just,  as  to  be  subject  to  the 
same  law  themselves.  Let  them  then  pro- 
duce such  an  express  command  or  rule  for 
their  own  model  of  kirk-sessions,  presbyte- 
ries, synods  provincial  and  national,  and  a 
commission  of  the  kirk  in  their  several  de- 
pendancies  and  subordinations  for  the  ordi- 
nary and  constant  government  and  exercise 
of  discipline  in  the  church,  and  the  neces- 
sary changing  of  the  moderators  in  these 
meetings,  excepting  only  that  of  the  kirk- 
session,  wherein  the  minister  is  constantly  to 
moderate  ;  for  without  such  an  express  rule 
as  this,  a  bishop  or  fixed  jtresident  may  very 
well  consist  with  that  whole  frame  they  con- 
tend for;  and  it  \g,  really  and  actually  so  at 
this  present  in  this  church,  and  they  stand 
so  much  the  rather  obliged  to  bring  a  clear 
command  for  these  judicatories,  and  their 
subordinations,  because  they  aflirm  them  to 
be  of  unquestionabl(!  divine  right,  and  the 
very  kingdom  of  Christ  upon  earth,  and  the 
only  lawful  and  absolutely  necessary  gcjvern- 
meiit  of  the  Christian  church,  whereas  the 
asserters  of  other  forms  do  not  usually  speak 
so  big.  If  they  shall  say,  they  are  not  against 
a  fixed  president  or  bishop,  or  call  him  whai 
you  will  (for  to  contest  about  names,  espe- 
cially in  so  grave  a  matter,  is  trivial  and 
childish),  but  that  the  question  is  about  their 
power,  then  we  beg  that  it  may  be  so.  Let 
that  be  all  the  question  betwixt  us,  and  then 
we  hope  the  controversy  will  be  quickly  end- 
ed ;  for  we  trust  we  shall  be  found  not  at  all 
desirous  to  usurp  or  effect  any  undue  j)ower, 
but  rather  to  abate  of  that  power  which  is 
reasonable,  and  to  conform  even  to  primitive 
episcopacy,  than  that  a  schism  should  con* 


b8 


THE  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


tinue  in  this  church  upon  that  score.  But  be 
it  suppo.-ii'd,  th;it  bisliojis  do  stretch  their 
power  soiucwliat  beyond  their  line,  let  all 
the  world  judge,  whether  ministers  are  for 
that  engaged  to  leave  their  station  and  with- 
draw fniin  those  meetings  of  the  ciiurch, 
which  themselves  approve  of,  for  the  exer- 
cise of  discipline,  yea  and  (as  many  of  them 
have  done)  to  separate  from  the  public  wor- 
ship, and  whole  communion  of  the  church, 
because  of  some  degree  of  wrong  done  them 
(as  they  think  in  that  point  of  power),  or 
whether  they  had  not  sufficiently  acquitted 
themselves,  and  discharged  their  consciences 
by  free  declaring  of  their  opinion  concerning 
that  matter,  and  modestly  desiring  the  re- 
dress of  it;  and  patiently  waiting  for  it, 
though  it  be  not  presently  redressed,  and 
continuing  in  the  performance  of  their  own 
duty  to  tiieir  power, though  others  above  them 
or  about  them,  do  transgress  theirs,  or  seem  at 
least  to  iheui  to  do  so  ;  otherwise,  if  we  think 
ourselves  obliged  for  everything  that  is,  or 
that  we  judge,  faulty  in  other  persons,  or  in 
the  frame  of  things,  to  relinquish  either  the 
communion  of  it,  or  our  station  in  it,  what  will 
there  be  but  endless  swarms  of  separations 
and  divisions  in  any  church  under  the  sun? 

But  there  is  one  thing  in  this  business  of 
ours  that  sticks  after  all  the  rest:  the  cove- 
nant. As  to  that,  waiving  all  the  irregular- 
ities of  it,  though  so  many  and  so  great,  that, 
in  the  judgment  of  divers,  both  wise  and 
good  men,  they  seem  to  annul  the  obligation 
of  it,  suppose  it  still  to  bind  all  that  took  it, 
and  suppose  likewise,  that  the  present  epis- 
copacy in  this  church  is  thai  same  that  was 
abjured  in  that  covenant ;  yet  the  article  re- 
lating thereto  obliges  each  one  only  to  this, 
to  endeavor  within  their  calling  and  station, 
if  such  an  episcopacy  shall  be  introduced  and 
continued  against  their  will.    But  the  truth 

if  men  would  have  the  patience  to  inquire 


into  it,  and  consider  the  thing  without  preju 
dice  and  partiality,  this  our  episcopacy  will 
be  found  not  to  be  the  same  with  that  abjur- 
ed in  that  covenant  ;  for  that  is  the  govern- 
ment of  bishops  and  archbishops  absolutely 
by  themselves  and  their  delegates,  chancel- 
lors, archdeacons,  ollicials,  &c.,  as  it  is  ex- 
pressed in  the  very  words  of  the  article,  and 
was  on  purpose  so  expressed,  to  difference 
that  frame  from  other  forms  of  epi^.copacy, 
and  particularly  from  that  which  is  exercised 
by  bishops  jointly  with  presbyters  in  presby- 
teries and  synods,  and  that  is  it  wliicl  is  now 
used  in  this  church.  And  that  the  p'esbyte- 
rians  in  England  do  generally  take  notice  of 
this  difference,  and  to  that  degree,  as  to  ac- 
count the  one  model  contrary  to  the  cove- 
nant, and  the  other  not  contrary  to  it,  but 
very  well  agreeing  with  it,  is  a  thu'i?  that 
none  can  deny,  nor  any  that  uses  diligei.ce  to 
inquire  can  be  ignorant  of,  for  it  is  clear  in 
divers  treatises  extant  in  print.  These  things, 
to  my  best  discerning,  are  truths  ;  and  if  thef 
be  indeed  so,  I  am  sure  are  pertinent  truths, 
toward  the  healing  of  our  sad  divisions  ;  but 
if  any  like  to  be  contentious,  I  wish  I  could 
say  of  this  church,  we  have  no  such  cu  ;tom  : 
but  this  certainly  may  be  said,  that  there  is 
no  custom  doth  more  disedify  the  churches 
of  God,  and  less  become  the  followers  c  f  the 
Prince  of  Peace.  1  shall  only  add  one  word 
which  I  am  sure  is  undeniable,  and  I  thrnk  is 
very  considerable,  that  he  that  can  not  join 
with  the  present  frame  of  this  church  ,coul  i  not 
have  lived  in  the  communion  of  the  Christian 
church  in  the  time  of  the  first  most  famous 
general  assembly  of  it,  the  Council  of  Nice, yea 
(to  go  no  higher  up,  though  safely  I  might), 
he  must  as  certainly  have  separated  from  the 
whole  catholic  church  in  the  days  of  the  holy 
bishop  and  martyr  Cyprian  upon  this  very 
scruple  of  the  government,  as  Novatus 
upon  another  occasion. 


DR.  DODDRIDGE'S  PREFACE.' 


When  Mr.  Wilson  undertook  to  publish  '  I  found  new  reasons  to  be  satisfied  with  the 

teveral  pieces  of  Archbishop  Leighton,  from  task  I  had  undertaken,  which  indeed  was 

ihe  manuscripts  in  whicli  they  had  so  lons^  welcome  to  ine  in  proportion  to  the  decree 

lain  concealed,  having  heard  of  the  high  in  which  I  perceived  it  must  be  laborious, 

esteem  I  have  long  professed  for  the  wri-  The  papers  which  were  sent  me  were  copies 

tings  of  that  excellent  person,  he  entreated  of  others,  which  I  suppose  were  transcribed 

me  that  I  would  revise  them,  and  if  I  ap-  from  sliort-hand  notes,  which  some  skilful 

prove  the  publication,  would  introduce  them  writer  had  iiaply  taken  from  the  archbishop's 

inlo  the  world  by  a  recommendatory  preface,  mouth.    They  were  beyond  comparison  more 

The  last  of  these  requests  I  absolutely  re-  inaccurate  than  those  of  his  printed  works, 

fused,  knowing  how  very  unworthy  I  am  to  which  are  most  remarkably  so  :  and  yet  they 

pretend,  by  my  suffrage,  to  add  anything  to  contained  such  inimitable  traces  of  sweet 

the  reputation  and  acceptance  of  what  came  natural  eloquence,  and  of  genuine  and  lively 

from  the  pen  of  so  eminently  great  and  good  piety,  as  speak  the  author  far  more  certainly, 

a  man:  and  the  more  I  know  of  him,  and  of  than  the  most  exact  resemlilance  of  what 

myself,  the  more  deeply  sensible  I  must  be  was  known  to  be  his  handwriting  could  pos- 

of  this.    But  with  the  former  request  I  cheer-  sibly  have  done. 

fully  complied,  though  my  various  and  im-  Besides  a  large  collection  of  letters,  of 

poriant  business  would  have  furnished  a  very  which  I  shall  afterward  speak,  the  papers 

Elausible  excuse  fur  declining  it.  I  appre-  consisted  of  his  meditations  and  expositions 
ended  that  these  pieces  were  not  very  large,  on  Psalm  xxxix.,  on  part  of  Rom.  xii.,  and 
and  I  knew  that,  like  all  the  other  remains  the  whole  sixth  of  Isaiah.  On  this  last  sub- 
of  our  incomparable  author,  they  were  not  lime  and  instructive  portion  of  Scripture, 
designed  for  the  press  ;  so  that  it  was  proba-  there  were  three  distinct  expositions,  deliv- 
ble  they  were  written  in  a  very  hasty  man-  ered,  as  I  su[)pose,  at  dilfcrent  places  :  the 
ner,  considering  how  well  he  knew  the  value  latter  being,  so  far  as  I  could  judge,  su|)ple- 
of  time,  and  how  entirely  he  was  superior  to  mental  to  the  former,  yet  so  that  additions 
popular  applause  in  all  his  c<;mpositions  for  were  made  to  almost  every  verse,  and  some- 
the  pulpit,  as  must  of  these  were.  The  num-  times  the  same  things  which  had  been  said 
berless  errors  which  I  had  observed  in  the  before,  expressed  in  a  dilferent  maimer.  I 
first  edition  of  all  his  Eni^/ish  works,  by  judged  it  consistent  with  the  strictest  fidelity 
which  ti^e  sense  of  many  jnissages  is  abso  owing  to  the  works  of  so  illustrious  a  person 
lutely  destroyed,  and  that  of  scores  and  hun-  (which  absolutely  forbade  my  adding  or  di- 
dreds  very  much  obscured,  made  me  the  muiishing  anything),  to  divide  them,  and  in- 
more  ready  to  attempt  the  paying  this  little  corporate  them  into  one  whole  ;  which  could 
tribute  of  respect  to  his  memory,  which  no  not  possibly  be  done,  without  transcribing 
words  or  actions  can  fully  express;  and  I  the  pieces,  omitting  those  passages  in  the 
was  morally  certain,  that  whatever  came  former,  that  were  afterward  more  copiously 
from  such  a  pen  would  be  so  entertaining  or  mure  correctly  expressed  in  the  latter,  and 
and  improving,  that  I  could  not  fail  of  being  inserting  here  and  there  a  line  or  two,  by 
immediately  and  abundantly  rewarded  for  way  of  connexion,  to  prevent  those  disagree- 
whatever  pains  it  might  cost  me  to  prepare  able  chasms  which  wouM  otherwise  have 
it  for  the  Public.  defaced  nmch  of  its  beauty.  For  the  rest 
When  these  manuscripts  came  to  my  hands,  the  reader  may  assure  hiniself,  that  if  (which 

•  Dtjiwti  up  for  t)ie  Kilition  of  Archbisliop  Leigliton's  Expository  Works,  in  two  volumes,  octavo,  piilv 
Ushed  by  David  WUson,  Kdiiiburgh,  1748. 


60 


DR.  DODDRIDGE'S  PREFACE. 


1  can  not  doubt)  these  papers  came  genuine 
into  luy  hand,  they  are  now  entirely  so,  in 
every  sentence,  and  in  every  clause  ;  for  in 
(hose  very  tVw  places  where  liie  sense  was 
to  me  absoiutely  unintelligible,  and  the  con- 
struction incurably  uniriamniaiical,  I  chose 
ratlier  to  drop  such  imperlVcl  t'raguienls,  than 
by  uncertain  additions  of  my  own,  to  run 
the  risk  of  imputing  to  tiie  good  archbishop 
what  1  was  not  sure  he  ever  wrote.  Had 
these  fragments  contained  hints  of  any  things 
curious  in  criticism,  history,  or  controversy 
of  any  kind,  I  would  have  pu})lished  them 
apart,  at  the  end  of  these  volumes :  but  as 
they  were  very  few,  and,  like  the  rest  of  his 
writings,  entirely  of  a  devotional  and  practi- 
cal nature,  I  thought  it  Avould  have  been  a 
formality  nearly  bordering  upon  impertinence, 
to  have  collected  and  inserted  them  in  such 
a  manner. 

The  Ethico-critical  Meditations,  on  the  iv., 
xxxii.,  and  cxxx.  Psalms,  abound  with  so 
many  charming  sentiments  and  expressions, 
that  I  could  not  but  desire  the  Ejiglish  reader 
should  share  in  part  of  the  pleasure  they  had 
given  me.  I  have  therefore  taken  care  they 
should  be  faithfully  translated,  and  have  re- 
viewed the  version  with  as  much  accuracy 
as  my  other  engagements  would  allow.  It 
is  indeed  impossible  to  transfuse  the  inimita- 
ble elegance  aird  strength  of  the  original  into 
any  translation  ;  but  he  who  is  incapable  of  the 
pleasure  of  using  that,  will,  I  hoi)e,  be  glad  to 
enjoy  the  benefit  of  such  eminently  pious  re- 
flections, though  under  the  disadvantage  of  a 
dress  much  less  beautiful  and  ornamental. 

When  this  part  of  the  design  was  exe- 
cuted, I  was  insensibly,  by  an  ambiguity  of 
expression  in  the  proposals  printed  at  Edin- 
burgh, led  into  another  labor,  much  greater 
than  I  at  first  imagined  it  would  have  proved, 
I  mean  that  of  correcting  the  quarto  edition 
of  the  incomparable  commentary  upon  the 
first  epistle  oi  Peter,  which  I  may  venture  to 
pronounce  the  most  faulty  piece  of  printing 
I  ever  remember  to  have  seen  in  any  lan- 
guage. At  first,  I  intended  only  to  have 
noted  those  gross  mistakes  which  quite  per- 
vert that  which  any  person  of  common  pen- 
etration must  see  to  have  been  the  original 
*ense,  and  yet  are  taken  no  notice  of  in  erro- 
neous table  of  errata.  But  afterward  consid- 
ering what  an  embarrassment  it  is  to  com- 
mon readers,  to  see  commas,  colons,  and  pe- 
riods, placed  almost  in  a  promiscuous  disor- 
der, without  any  regard  to  their  proper  sig- 
nification, which  is  the  case  here,  at  least  in 
every  ten  lines,  I  determined  to  go  over  the 
whole,  pen  in  hand,  and  correct  every  page 
as  I  would  have  done  a  proof  from  the  press. 

While  I  was  thus  employed,  I  observed 
that  the  confusion  which  many  have  com- 
plained of  in  the  archbishop's  method,  and 
which  I  myself  really  thought  matter  of 
some  just  complaint  too,  was  frequently  the 
tonsequence  of  omitting  the  numeral  marks, 
which  should  denote  the  subordination  of 


heads,  and  this  where  some  of  them  are  in 
serted,  as  if  on  purpose  to  increase  the  per- 
plexity- And  it  also  very  frequently  results 
from  the  neglect  of  giving  a  pro])er  view  at 
first  of  the  method  proposed,  and  which  was 
worst  of  all,  in  not  a  few  places,  from  pla- 
cing the  number  of  the  head,  instead  of  the 
head  itself.  This  perhaps  was  done  with 
design  in  the  first  copy,  to  save  the  trouble 
of  writing  it  over  again  ;  but  it  is  extremely 
inconvenient  to  the  reader,  as  it  most  natur- 
ally leads  him  to  mistake  the  first  sentence 
of  the  enlargement,  for  the  head  it  is  inteml- 
ed  to  illustrate. 

This  is  a  remark  which  is  applicable  ti* 
many  of  our  author's  sermons  ;  and  I  wish 
it  had  been  more  constantly  attended  to  in 
that  valuable  edition  of  them  published  by 
Mr.  Wilson  at  Edinburgh  two  years  ago,  in 
comparison  of  which,  nevertheless,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  neitner  of  the  former  are  to  be 
named.  I  thought  it  no  unwarrantable  lib- 
erty at  all,  but  a  high  point  of  justice,  to  sup- 
ply with  my  pen  what  is  so  evidently  defi- 
cient, and,  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  condemned 
for  venturing,  as  I"  was  expressly  desired  to 
do,  here  and  there  to  exchange  a  Scots  word 
or  phrase  for  an  English  one,  certainly  of  the 
same  signification,  and  more  generally  un- 
derstood. I  thought  that  to  have  distinguish- 
ed all  these  corrections  by  different  charac- 
ters, crotchets,  or  inverted  commas,  would 
have  injured  ihe  beauty  of  the  impressions, 
and  migiit  have  looked  like  a  little  affecta- 
tion of  making  a  vain  parade  of  what  I  have 
done.  If  any  are  curious  enough  to  desire 
exactly  to  know  it,  they  may  get  surer  infor- 
mation by  comparing  this  edition  with  the 
former,  by  which  they  may  judge  of  tlif 
little,  but  as  I  thought,  very  necessary  free 
doms  taken  with  the  manuscript  pieces.. 
And  if  any  perceive,  as  I  suppose  most  ob- 
servant readers  that  make  the  comparison, 
will,  that  the  Commentary  upon  Peter  now 
reads  in  a  much  rounder,  clearer,  and  pleas- 
anter  manner  than  it  before  did,  they  will 
only  reflect  how  much  a  multitude  of  little 
negligences  and  errors,  each  of  ihem  seem- 
ing in  itself  minutely  and  inconsiderably 
small,  may  affect  the  beauty,  character,  and 
use  of  a  work  in  which  they  are  found. 

On  the  whole,  the  preparing  these  vol- 
umes for  the  press  hath  generally  taken  up  a 
little  of  my  time  in  the  intervals  of  other 
business,  daily  for  several  months  ;  but  I  am 
far  from  repenting  the  labor  I  have  bestowed 
upon  it.  The  delight  and  edification  which 
I  have  found  in  the  writings  of  this  vnnder- 
\ful  man,  for  such  I  must  deliberately  call 
him,  would  have  been  a  full  equivalent  for 
my  pains,  separate  from  all  prospect  of  that 
effect  which  they  might  have  upon  others 
For  truly  I  know  not  that  I  have  ever  spent 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  reviewing  any  of 
them,  but  even  amidst  that  interruption 
1  which  a  critical  examination  of  the  copy 
would  naturally  give,  I  have  felt  some  ini- 


JJK.  DODDRIDGE'S  PREFACE. 


61 


1  res  iions  which  T  could  wish  alway  to  re- 
lain.  I  cau  hardly  forbear  saying,  as  a  con- 
siderable philosopher  and  eminent  divine, 
with  whom  I  have  the  honsr  of  an  intimate 
correspondence  and  friendship,  said  o  me  in 
a  letter  long-  ago,*  and  when  my  acquaint- 
ance with  our  author's  works  was  but  be- 
ginning, "  There  is  a  spirit  in  Archbishop 
Leighton  I  never  met  with  in  any  human 
writings :  nor  can  I  read  many  lines  in 
them  without  being  moved." 

Indeed  it  would  be  difficult  for  me  to  say 
where,  but  in  the  sacred  oracles,  I  have  ever 
found  such  heart-affecting  lessons  of  simpli- 
city and  humility,  candor  and  benevolence, 
exalted  piety,  wiihout  the  least  tinciure  of 
enthusiasm,  and  an  entire  mortification  to 
every  earthly  interest,  without  any  mixture 
of  splenetic  resentment.  Nor  can  I  ever  suf- 
ficiently admire  fiiat  artless  manner  in  wliich 
he  lays  open,  as  it  were,  his  whole  breast  to 
the  reader,  and  shows,  without  seeming  to 
be  at  all  conscious  of  it  himself,  all  the  vari- 
ous graces  that  can  adorn  and  ennoble  the 
Christian,  running  like  so  many  veins  of  pre- 
cious ore  in  the  rich  mine  where  they  grew. 
And  hence,  if  I  mistake  not,  is  that  W(;nderlul 
energy  of  his  discourses,  obvious  as  they 
seem,  unadorned  as  they  really  are,  which  I 
have  observed  to  be  owned  by  persons  of 
eminent  piety  in  the  most  different  ranks, 
and  amid  all  the  variety  of  education  and 
capacity  that  can  be  imagined.  As  every 
eye  is  struck  by  consummate  beauty,  though 
in  the  plainest  dress,  and  the  sight  of  such 
an  object  impresses  much  more  than  any  la- 
bored description  of  complexion,  features,  or 
air,  or  any  harangue  on  the  nicest  rules  of 
proportion  which  could  come  into  considera- 
tion ;  so,  in  the  works  of  this  ^reat  adept  in 
true  Christianity,  we  do  not  so  much  iiear  of 
goodness,  as  see  it  in  its  most  genuine  traces  ; 
see  him  a  living  image  of  his  Divine  Master, 
for  such  indeed  his  writings  show,  I  had  al- 
most said  demonstrate  him  to  have  been,  by 
such  internal  characters  as  surely  a  bad  man 
could  not  counterfeit,  and  no  good  man  can 
so  much  as  respect. 

Where  the  matter  is  so  remarkably  excel- 
lent, a  wise  and  picus  reader  will  not  be 
over-solicitous  about  the  style;  yet  I  think 
he  will  find  it,  in  these  compositions,  far 
above  any  reasonable  contempt  or  censure. 
When  I  consider  what  the  prevailing  taste 
was  a  century  ago  in  this  respect,  I  have  of- 
ten wondered  at  the  many  true  beauties  of 
expression  that  occur  in  these  pieces,  and  the 
general  freedom  from  those  false  and  fanciful 
ornaments,  if  they  are  to  be  called  ornaments, 
which  occur  in  contemporary  authors.  On 
the  whole,  the  style  wonderfully  suits  the 
sentiments  ;  and  however  destitute  of  the 
flights  of  oratorv,  has  such  a  dignity  and 
force  mingled  with  that  simplicity,  which  is 
to  be  sure  its  chief  characteristic  ;  so  that  on 

•AprU  10, 174«.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Henry  MUes,  F.  R.  S. 


the  whole,  it  has  often  reminded  me  of  that 
soft  and  sweet  eloquence  of  Ulysses,  which 
Homer*  describes  as  falling  like  flakes  of 
snow  ;  and  if  I  might  be  alloAved  to  pursue 
I  the  similitude,  I  could  add,  like  that,  it  pen- 
etrates deep  into  the  mind  too,  and  tends  to 
]  enrich  and  fructify  it. 

It  is  chiefly  the  practical  preacher  that 
shines  in  these  lectures,  yet  it  seems  to  me, 
that  the  judicious  expositor  will  also  appear, 
and  appear  most  to  the  most  competent  judg- 
es,    ^here  is  a  sort  of  criticism  on  the  sacred 
writings,  which  none  but  an  eminently  good 
man  can  attain  ;  and  if  I  am  at  all  capable 
of  judging  concerning  it,  it  remarkably  reigns 
j  here.    We  find  indeed  little  of  that  laborious 
j  sifting  of  words  and  syllables,  in  which  some 
have  worn  out  so  much  time  and  pains,  if 
not  to  no  purpose  at  all  (for  I  will  not  assert 
j  that),  at  least  to  purposes  very  low,  and  in- 
I  considerable,  when    ccjmpared  with  those 
I  which  our  author  pursues  and  aitams.  The 
I  reader,  will,  I  think,  find  great  light  poured 
on  many  very  difficult  passages,  especially  in 
j  the  First  Ejiistle  of  Peter,  in  a  very  masterly 
1  manner,  and  often  by  a  few  weighty  words. 
But  these  hints  are  generally  very  short  ;  for 
[  the  good  author  appears  to  have  lopped  off 
everything  as  superfluous,  which  did  not 
immediately  tend  to  make  his  readers  better  ; 
or  rather  to  have  had  a  heart  so  entirely  pos- 
sessed with  this  desire,  that  nothing  else  ever 
offered  itself  to  his  view.    Whatever  of  an 
ornamental  kind  is  to  be  found  in  these  prac- 
tical parts  of  the  work,  which  certainly  con- 
stitute more  than  six  sevenths  of  the  whole, 
appears  to  have  been  quite  unlabored  and 
unsought ;  but  it  conduces  much  to  our  en- 
tertaiiiinent,  and  I  hope  in  its  consequence  to 
our  improvement,  that  the  author  had  natur- 
ally a  very  fine  imagination  ;  the  consequence 
of  which  is,  that  his  works  abound  with  a 
charming  variety  of  beautiful  figures,  spring- 
ing up  most  naturally  from  his  subjects,  and 
so  adding  some  graces  of  novelty,  to  thoughts 
in  themselves  most  obvious  and  common. 

On  the  whole,  I  can  not  but  hope  that  God 
will  be  pleased  to  bless  the  publication  of 
these  pieces,  in  these  circumstances,  as  an 
occasion  of  reviving  a  sense  of  religion,  and 
promoting  the  interest  of  true  Christianity. 
It  has  appeared  to  me  a  memorable  event, 
that  when  the  extreme  modesty  of  Arch- 
bishop Leigh  ton  had  been  inexorable  to  all 
the  entreaties  of  his  many  friends,  to  print 
something  during  his  life,  so  many  of  his 
precious  remains  should  with  such  solicitude 
be  gleaned  up  after  death,  and  some  of  them 
more  than  threescore  years  after  it ;  and  that 
they  should  be  read  with  such  high  esteem 
and  delight,  as  it  is  plain  many  of  them  have 
been,  by  persons  of  the  most  different  de- 
nominations throughout  Great  Britain.  lam 
very  sensible  of  it  as  an  honor  done  to  me  in 
the  course  of  divine  Providence,  that  the  task 

•  Kai  Ivta  vii^aiiaaiv  cotKdra  j^etiicptriatii. — II.  iii.  V.  393> 


62 


DR.  DODDRIDGE'S  PREFACE. 


I  have  here  executed  should  so  very  unex-  i 
peciedly  be  devolved  upon  me.  1  have  no 
properly  at  all  in  the  work,  nor  the  least  sec- 
ular interest  in  its  success  :  what  I  have  done 
was  entirely  tiie  result  of  love  to  the  au- 
thor's memory,  and  concern  for  the  public 
good  :  but  I  shall  be  gloriously  rewarded,  if 
the  labor  I  have  bestowed  upon  it,  be  tlie  oc- 
casion of  promoting  those  great  ends  which 
animated  the  discourses  and  actions  ol'  the 
holy  man,  who  has  now  dwelt  so  long  among 
the  blessed  inhabitants  of  that  world  after 
which  he  so  "ardently  aspired,  while  yet 
among  mortals.  And  let  me  be  permitted  to 
add,  that  I  have  some  secret  hope  this  publi- 
cation, in  these  circumstances,  may,  among 
other  good  efl'ects,  promote  that  spirit  of 
Catholicism,  for  which  our  author  was  so  re- 
markable, and  extend  it  among  various  de- 
nominations of  Christians,  in  the  northern 
and  southern  parts  of  our  island.  If  the  sin- 
cerest  language  or  actions  can  express  the 
disposition  of  the  heart,  it  will  be  here  ap- 
parent, that  a  diversity  of  judgment,  with 
regard  to  episcopacy,  and  several  forms  both 
of  discipline  and  worship  connected  with  it, 
have  produced  in  my  mind  no  alienation,  no 
indifference  toward  Archbishop  Leightim,  nor 
prevented  my  delighting  in  his  works,  and 
profiting  by  them.  In  this  respect  1  trust 
my  brethren  m  Scotland  will,  for  their  own 
sake,  and  that  of  religion  in  general,  show 
the  like  candor.  On  the  other  side,  as  I  have 
observed  with  great  pleasure  and  thankful- 
ness how  much  many  of  the  established  cler- 
gy in  this  part  of  Britain  are  advancing  in 
moderation  toward  their  dissenting  brethren, 
I  am  fully  assured  they  will  not  like  tiiese 
excellent  pieces  the  worse,  for  having  passed 
throuijh  my  hand.  It  is  truly  my  grief,  that 
anything  should  divide  me  from  the  fullest 
communion  with  those  to  whom  I  am  united 
in  bonds  of  as  tender  affection  as  I  bear  to 
any  of  my  fellow-Christians.  And  it  is  my 
daily  prayer,  that  God  will,  by  his  gentle  but 
powerful  influence  on  our  minds,  mutually 
dispose  us  mure  and  more  for  such  a  further 
union,  as  may  most  effectually  consolidate 
the  protestant  cause,  establish  the  throne  of 
our  gracious  sovereign,  remove  the  scandal 
our  divisions  have  occasioned,  and  strength- 
en our  hands  in  those  efforts  by  which  we 
are  attempting,  and  might  then,  I  hope, 
more  successfully  attempt,  the  service  of  our 
common  Christianity.  In  the  meantime,  I 
desire  most  sincerely  to  bless  God  for  any 
advances  that  are  made  toward  it  :  and  I 
can  not  forbear  to  illustrate  and  confirm  my 
thoughts  on  this  head,  by  inserting  the  ele- 
gant words  of  a  most  worthy  member  of  the 
Church  of  England,  well  known  in  the  learn- 


ed world,  as  I  have  lately  had  the  honor  of 
receiving  them  from  his  own  pen.  I  conceal 
his  name,  and  therefore  hope  it  is  no  viola- 
lion  of  the  laws  of  friendship,  to  insert  at 
large  a  passage  from  a  familiar  letter,  which, 
if  it  warms  my  reader's  breast  as  it  did  mine, 
will  be  not  only  an  entertainment,  but  a 
blessing  to  many,  and  which  is  as  suitable  a 
conclusion  of  this  preface,  as  if  it  had  been 
written  in  that  view.  "  I  am  glad,"  says  he, 
"  that  Christianity  begins  to  be  so  well  un- 
derstood and  taught  by  so  many  men  of  jiarts 
and  learning  in  all  sects,  the  fruits  of  which 
appear  in  a  candor  and  charity  unknown  to 
all  ages  of  the  church,  except  the  primitive, 
I  had  almost  said,  the  apostolic  age.  Does 
not  this  give  you  a  prospect,  though  perhaps 
still  very  distant,  of  the  completion  of  the 
famous  prophecy  that  sjjeaks  of  the  lion 
and  the  lamb  lying  douri  together  .n  the 
kingdom  of  the  Messiah  ?  Lions  there  have 
been  hitherto  in  all  churches,  but  too  jjiany 
fierce,  greedy,  and  blood-thirsty  lions,  though 
often  disguised  like  lambs,  and  some  lambs 
there  have  been,  simple  enough  to  think  it 
expedient  for  the  flock,  to  assume  the  habit 
and  terror  of  lions  ;  but  I  hope  they  now  be- 
gin to  undeceive  tiiemselves,  and  to  consider 
Christianity  as  intending  to  bring  back  the 
world  to  that  state  of  innocence  which  it  en- 
joyed before  the  fall,  when  in  one  and  the 
same  paradise,  to  use  the  words  of  Milton, 

 '  Frisliing  ]ilayp<l 

All  beasts  of  tli'  earth,  since  wild  and  of  aU  chaM., 
In  wood  or  wilderness,  forest  or  den. 
.'^porting  the  lion  ramped,  and  in  his  paw 
Dandled  the  kid.'  

To  attain  this  happy  state,"  continues  this 
amiable  Avriter,  "  all  Christians  should  unite 
their  endeavors,  and  instead  of  looking  out 
for  and  insisting  upon  points  of  difference 
and  distinction,  seek  for  those  only  in  which 
they  do  or  may  agree.  They  may  at  Icasi 
sow  the  seeds  of  peace  and  unity,  though  they 
should  not  live  to  reap  the  frvits  of  it  in  this 
world.  Blessed  are  the  fcuccmuhers.  says 
the  Prince  of  Peace,/or  they  shall  he  called 
the  children  of  God.  An  appellation  infi- 
nitely more  honorable  than  that  of  pastor, 
bishop,  archbishop,  patriarch,  cardinal,  or 
pope,  attended  with  a  recompense  infinitely 
surpassing  the  richest  revenues  of  the  high- 
est ecclesiastical  dignity."  I  join  my  hearty 
wishes  and  prayers  with  those  of  my  much- 
esteemed  friend,  that  we  may  all  more  and 
more  deserve  this  character,  and  attain  this 
its  reward. 

P.  Doddridge. 
Northampton,  April  26,  1748. 


PRACTICAL  COMMENTA  RY 


UPON  THE 


FIRST  EPISTLE  GENERAL  OF  SAINT  PETER 


CHAPTER  I.  I  these  three,  faith,  obedience,  and  pa- 

Hence  ;  to  establish  them  in  believing,  to  di- 
Versf.  1.  Peter,  an  apostle  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  the   rect  them  in  doing,  and  to  comfort  them  in 
strangers  scattered  throughout  Pontus,  Galatia,   suffering.  And  because  the  first  is  the  ground- 
Cappadocm,  Asia,  and  B.thyn.a.  i  ^^^^        ^^pp^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^^  ^^^^ 

The  grace  of  God  in  the  heart  of  man,  is  chapter  is  much  occupied  with  persuading 
a  tender  plant  in  a  strange  unkindly  soil;  them  of  the  truth  of  the  mystery  which  they 
and  therefore  can  not  well  prosper  and  grow,  \  had  received  and  did  believe,  viz.,  their  re- 
without  much  care  and  pains,  and  that  of  a  demption  and  salvation  by  Christ  Jesus  ;  that 
skilful  hand,  and  which  hath  the  art  of  cher-  inheritance  of  immortality  bought  by  his 
ishing  it :  for  this  end  hath  God  given  the  blood  for  them,  and  the  evidence  and  sta- 
constant  ministry  of  the  world  to  his  church,  biliiy  of  their  right  and  title  to  it. 
not  only  for  the  first  work  of  conversion,  but  And  then  he  uses  this  belief,  this  assurance 
also  for  confirming  and  increasing  of  his  of  the  glory  to  come,  as  the  great  persuasive 
grace  in  the  hearts  of  his  children.  to  the  other  two,  both  to  holy  obedience,  and 

And  though  the  extraordinary  ministers  of  constant  patience,  since  nothing  can  be  too 
the  gospel,  the  apostles,  had  principally  the  much  either  to  forego  or  undergo,  either  to 
former  for  their  charge — the  converting  of  do  or  to  suffer,  for  the  attainment  of  thai 
unbelievers,  Jews  and  Gentiles,  and  so  the   blessed  state. 

the  planting  of  churches,  to  be  after  kept,  and  !  And  as,  from  the  consideration  of  that  ob- 
watered  by  others  (as  the  apostle  intimates,  ject  and  matter  of  the  hope  of  believers,  he 
1  Cor.  iii.  6),  yet  did  they  not  neglect  the  encourages  to  patience,  and  exhortelh  to  ho- 
other  work  of  strengthening  the  grace  of  liness  in  this  chapter  in  general,  so,  in  the 
God  begun  in  the  new  converts  of  those  following  chapters,  he  expresses  more  par- 
times,  both  by  revisiting  them,  and  exhort-  ticularly,  both  the  universal  and  special  du- 
ing  them  in  person,  as  they  could,  and  by  the  ties  of  Christians,  both  in  doing  and  suffer- 
supply  of  tlieir  writing  to  them  when  absent,  ing,  often  setting  before  those  to  whom  he 
And  the  benefit  of  this  extends  (not  by  wrote,  the  matchless  example  of  the  Lord 
accident,  but  by  the  purpose  and  good  provi-  Jesus,  and  the  greatness  of  their  engagement 
dence  of  God)  to  the  church  of  God  in  all  ,  to  follow  him. 

succeeding  ages.  In  the  first  two  verses,  we  have  the  inscrip- 

This  excellent  epistle  (full  of  evangelical  lion  and  snlvlnlion,  in  the  usual  style  of  the 
doctrine  and  apostolical  authority)  is  a  brief,   apostolic  epistles. 

and  yet  very  clear  summary  both  of  the  con- !  The  inscription  hath  the  author  and  the 
solations  and  instructions  needful  for  the  en-  '  address — from  whom,  and  to  whom.  The 
couragement  and  direction  of  a  Christian  in  author  of  this  epistle  is  designated  by  his 
his  journey  to  iicaven,  elevating  his  thoughts  name — Peter  ;  and  his  caUin<r — an  apostle, 
and  desires  to  that  happiness,  and  strength-  I  We  shall  not  insist  upon  his  name,  that  it 
ening  him  against  all  opposition  in  the  way.  I  was  imposed  by  Christ,  or  what  is  its  signi- 
both  that  of  corruption  within,  and  tempta-  fication :  this  the  evangelists  teach  ns,  John 
tions  and  afllictioiis  from  without.  1  i-  42  ;  Matt.  xvi.  18. 

The  heads  of  doctrine  contained  in  it  are  [  By  that  which  is  spoken  of  him  in  divers 
many,  bnt  the  main  that  are  most  insisted   passages  of  the  gospel,  he  is  very  remarka- 


64 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  1. 


ble  amonsr  the  apostles,  both  for  his  tjraces, 
and  his  failings  ;  eminent  in  zeal  and  cour- 
age, and  yet  siumbling  oft  in  his  forward- 
ness, and  once  grossly  falling.  And  thesfe 
by  the  providence  of  God  being  recorded  in 
scripture,  gave  a  check  to  the  excess  of 
Konie's  conceit  concerning  this  apostle.  Their 
extolling  and  exahi.uj  hi.Ti  above  die  rest,  is 
not  for  liis  cause,  much  less  to  the  honor  of 
his  Lord  and  master  Jesus  Christ,  for  he  is  1 
injured  and  dishonored  by  it ;  but  it  is  in  fa- 
vor of  themselves.  As  Alexander  distin- 
guished his  two  friends,  that  the  one  was  a 
friend  of  Alexander,  the  other  a  friend  of  the 
king,  the  preferment  which  they  give  this 
apostle,  is  not  in  good  will  to  Peter,  but  in 
tlie  desire  of  primacy.  But  whatsoever  he 
was,  they  would  be  much  in  pain  to  prove 
Rome's  right  to  it  by  succession.  And  if 
ever  it  had  any  such  right,  we  may  confi- 
dently say,  it  has  forfeited  it  long  ago,  by 
departing  fr(jni  St.  Peter's  footsteps,  and  from 
his  faith,  and  retaming  too  much  those  things 
wherein  he  was  faulty  :  namely, 

His  unwillingness  to  hear  of,  and  consent 
to,  Christ's  sufferings, — his  master,  spore  thy- 
self, or  far  he  it  from  thee, — in  those  they  are 
like  him  ;  for  thus  they  would  disburden  and 
exempt  the  church  from  the  cross,  from  the 
real  cross  or  afflictions,  and,  instead  of  that, 
have  nothing  but  painted,  or  carved,  or  gild- 
ed crosses  ;  these  they  are  content  to  em- 
brace, and  worship  too,  but  can  not  endure  to 
hear  of  the  other.  Instead  of  the  cross  of 
affliction,  they  make  the  crown  or  mitre  the 
badge  of  their  church,  and  will  have  it 
known  by  prosperity,  and  outward  pomp  ; 
and  so  turn  the  church  militant  into  the 
church  triumphant,  not  considering  that  it  is 
Babylon's  voice,  not  the  church's,  I  sit  as  a 
oueen,  and  shall  see  nn  sorrow. 

Again,  they  are  like  him  in  his  saying  on 
the  mount  at  Christ's  transfiguration,  when 
he  knew  not  what  he  said.  It  is  good  to  be 
here:  so  they  have  little  of  the  true  glory  of 
Christ,  but  the  false  glory  of  that  monarchy  on 
their  seven  hills :  It  is  good  to  lie  here,  say  they. 

Again,  in  their  undue  striking  with  the 
sword,  not  the  enemies,  as  he,  but  the  faith- 
ful friends  and  servants  of  Jesus  Christ.  But 
to  proceed. 

We  see  here  Peter's  office  or  title, — an 
apostle  ;  not  chief  bishop.  Some  in  their 
glossing  have  been  so  impudent  as  to  add 
that  beside  the  text  ;  though  in  chap.  v.  4, 
he  gives  that  title  to  Christ  alone,  and  to 
himself  only  fell oiv  elder;  and  here,  not  prince 
of  the  apostles,  but  an  apostle,  restored  and 
re-established  after  his  fall,  by  repentance, 
and  by  Christ  himself  after  his  own  death 
and  resurrection.  (See  John  xxi.)  Thus  we 
have  in  our  apostle  a  singular  instance  of 
human  frailty  on  the  one  side,  and  of  the 
sweetness  of  divine  grace  on  the  other.  Free 
and  rich  grace  it  is  indeed,  that  forgives  and 
swallows  up  multitudes  of  sins,  of  the  great- 
est sins,  not  only  sins  before  conversion,  as 


to  St.  Paul,  but  foul  offences  committed  after 
conversion,  as  to  David,  and  to  this  apostle  ; 
not  only  once  raising  them  from  the  dead, 
but  when  they  fall,  stretching  out  the  same 
nand,  and  raising  them  again,  and  restoring 
them  to  their  station,  and  comforting  them 
in  it  by  his  free  spirit,  as  David  prays  ;  not 
only  loclcai.n  ^jolkit.,1  ^lay,  but  to  work  it 
into  vessels  of  hoiK^r,  yea.  of  the  most  defiled 
shape  to  make  tlie  most  refined  vessels,  no* 
vessels  of  honor  of  the  lowest  sort,  but  for 
the  highest  and  most  honorable  services, 
vessels  to  bear  his  own  precious  name  to  the 
nations  :  making  the  most  unworthy  and  the 
most  unfit,  fit  by  his  grace  to  be  his  messen- 
gers. 

Of  Jestis  Christ.]  Both  as  the  beginning 
and  the  end  of  his  apostleship,  as  Christ  is 
called  Alpha  and  Ome^a  ;  chosen  and  called 
by  him,  and  called  to  this — to  preach  him, 
and  salvation  wrought  by  him. 

Apostle  of  Jesus  Christ.]  Sent  by  him  and 
the  message  no  other  man  his  name,  to  make 
that  knoAvn.  And  what  this  apostleship  was 
then,  after  some  extraordinary  way,  befitting 
these  first  times  of  the  gospel,  the  ministry 
of  the  word  in  ordinary  is  now,  and  there- 
fore an  employment  of  more  difficulty  and  ex- 
cellency than  is  usually  conceived  by  many, 
not  only  by  those  who  look  ujion  it,  but  even 
of  those  who  are  exercised  in  it : — to  be  am- 
bassadors for  the  greatest  of  kings,  and  upon 
no  mean  employment,  that  great  treaty  of 
peace  and  reconcilement  l/etwixt  him  and 
mankind.    V.  2  Cor.  v.  20. 

This  epistle  is  directed  to  the  elect,  who 
are  described  here,  by  their  temporal  and  by 
their  spiritual  conditions.  The  one  hatti  very 
much  dignity  and  comfort  in  it ;  the  other 
hath  neither,  but  rather  the  contrary  of  both  ; 
and  therefore  the  apostle,  intending  their 
comfort,  mentions  the  one  but  in  passing,  to 
signify  to  whom  particularly  he  sent  his  epis- 
tle ;  but  the  other  is  that  which  he  wou'd 
have  their  thoughts  dwell  upon,  and  there- 
fore he  prosecutes  it  in  his  following  dis- 
course. And  if  we  look  to  the  order  of  the 
words,  their  temporal  condition  is  but  inter- 
jected ;  for  it  is  said.  To  the  elect,  first,  and 
then.  To  the  stranizers  scattered,  &c.  And 
he  would  have  this  as  it  were  drowned  in  the 
other — According  to  the  furcknowlege  of  God 
the  Father. 

That  those  dispersed  strangers  who  dwelt 
in  the  countries  here  named,  were  Jews,  ap- 
pears, if  we  look  to  the  foregoing  epistle, 
where  the  same  word  is  used,  and  expressly 
appropriated  to  the  Jews.  James  i.  1.  Sc. 
Peter  in  Gal.  ii.  is  calle'd  an  apostle  of  the 
circumcision,  as  exercising  his  apostleship 
most  toward  them  ;  and  there  is  in  some 
passages  of  this  epistle,  somewhat  which, 
though  belonging  to  all  Christians,  yet  hath, 
in  the  strain  and  way  of  expression,  a  par- 
ticular fitness  to  the  believing  Jews,  as  being 
particularly  verified  in  them,  which  was  spo- 
ken of  their  nation,  chap.  ii.  9,  10. 


"eh.  1.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


65 


Some  argue  from  the  name,  strangers,  that 
Jie  Gentiles  are  here  meant,  which  seems 
not  to  be  ;  for  proselyte  Gentiles  were  indeed 
called  strangers  in  Jerusalem,  and  by  the 
Jews;  but  were  not  the  Jews  strangers  in 
these  places — Pontus,  Galatia,  Cappadocia, 
Asia,  and  Bithynia  ? — Not  strangers  dwell- 
ing together  in  a  prosperous,  flourishing 'con- 
dition, as  a  well-planted  colony,  but  stran- 
gers of  the  dispersion,  scattered  to  and  fro. 
Their  dispersion  was  partly,  first  by  the  As- 
syrian captivity,  and  after  that  by  the  Baby- 
lonish, and  by  the  invasion  of  the  Romans  ; 
and  it  might  be  in  these  very  times  increased 
by  the  believing  Jews  flying  from  the  hatred 
and  persecution  raised  against  them  at  home. 

The  places  here  mentioned,  through  which 
they  were  dispersed,  are  all  in  Asia.  So  Asia 
here,  is  Asia  the  lesser.  Where  it  is  to  be 
observed,  that  some  of  those  who  heard  St. 
Peter,  Acts  ii.  9,  are  said  to  be  of  those  re- 
gions. And  if  any  of  the  number  then  con- 
verted were  among  these  dispersed,  the  com- 
fort was  no  doubt  the  more  grateful  from  the 
hand  of  the  same  apostle  by  whom  they 
were  first  converted  :  but  this  is  only  con- 
jecture. Though  divine  truths  are  to  be  re- 
ceived equally  from  every  minister  alike,  yet 
it  must  be  acknowled:,-cd,  that  there  is  some- 
thing (we  know  not  what  to  call  it)  of  a  more 
acceptable  reception  of  those  who  at  firsi 
were  the  means  of  bringing  men  to  G(id, 
than  of  others:  like  the  opinion  some  have 
of  physicians  whom  they  love. 

The  apostle  comforts  these  strangers  of 
this  dispersion,  by  the  spiritual  union  which 
they  obtained  by  effrctunl  callmv: ;  Jind  so 
calls  off  their  eyes  from  their  outward,  dis- 
persed, and  despised  condition,  to  look  above 
that,  as  high  as  the  spring  of  their  happi- 
ness, the  free  /oi-e  and  election  o{  CioA.  Scat- 
tered in  the  countries,  and  yet  gathered  in 
God's  election,  chosen  or  picked  out :  stran- 
gers to  men  among  whom  they  dwelt,  but 
known  and  foreknown  to  God  ;  removed  from 
their  own  country  to  which  men  have  natu- 
rally an  unalterable  affeciion,  hii\. /icirs  made 
of  a  better  (as  follows,  ver.  3,  4)  ;  and  hav- 
ing within  them  the  evidence  both  of  eternal 
election  and  of  that  expected  salvation,  the 
spirit  of  holiness  (ver.  2).  At  the  best,  a 
Christian  is  but  a  stranger  here,  set  him 
where  vou  will,  as  our  apostle  teacheth 
after  ;  and  it  is  his  privilege  that  he  is  so  : 
and  when  he  thinks  not  so,  he  forgets  and 
disparages  himself :  he  descends  far  below 
his  quality,  when  he  is  much  taken  with 
anything  in  this  place  of  his  exile. 

But  this  is  the  wisdom  of  a  Christian,  when 
he  can  solace  himself  against  the  meanness 
of  his  outward  condition,  and  any  kind  of 
discomfort  attending  it,  with  the  comfortable 
assurance  of  the  love  of  God,  that  he  hath 
called  him  to  holiness,  given  hirn  some  meas- 
ure of  11,  and  an  endeavor  after  more  ;  and 
bv  'his  may  he  conclude,  that  he  hath  or- 
dained '  im  unto  salvation.  If  either  he  is  a 
9 


I  stranger  where  he  lives,  or  as  a  stranger  de- 
!  serted  of  his  friends,  and  very  near  stripped 
of  all  outward  comforts,  yet  may  he  rejoice 
in  this,  that  the  eternal,  unchangeable  love 
of  God,  which  is  from  everlasting  to  ever- 
lasting, is  sealed  to  his  soul.  And  0,  what 
will  it  avail  a  man  to  be  compassed  about 
with  the  favor  of  the  world,  to  sit  unmolest- 
ed in  his  owm  home  and  possessions,  and  to 
have  them  very  great  and  pleasant,  to  be 
well  moneyed,  and  landed  and  befriended,  and 
yet  estranged  and  severed  from  God,  not 
having  any  token  of  his  special  love  ? 

To  the  elect.]  The  apostle  here  denomi- 
nates all  the  Christians  to  whom  he  writes, 
by  the  condition  of  true  believers,  calling 
them  elect  and  sanctified,  &c.,  and  the  apos- 
tle St.  Paul  writes  in  the  same  style  in  his 
epistles  to  the  churches.  Not  that  all  in 
these  churches  they  were  such  indeed,  but 
because  they  professed  to  be  such,  and,  by 
that  their  profession  and  calling  as  Chris- 
tians, they  were  obliged  to  be  such  :  and  as 
many  of  them  as  were  in  any  measure  true 
to  their  calling  and  profession  were  reallv 
such.  Besides,  it  would  seem  not  unworthy 
of  consideration,  that  in  all  probability  there 
would  be  fewer  false  Christians,  and  the 
number  of  true  believers  would  be  usually 
greater,  in  the  churches  in  those  primitive 
limes,  than  now  in  the  best  reformed 
[churches:  because  there  could  not  then  be 
many  of  them  that  were  from  their  infancy 
bred  in  the  Christian  faith,  but  the  greatest 
part  were  such  as,  being  of  years  of  discre- 
tion, were,  by  the  hearing  of  the  gospel, 
converted  from  paganism  and  Judaism  to  the 
Christian  religion  first,  and  made  a  deliber- 
ate choice  of  it ;  to  which  tiiere  were  at  that 
time  no  great  outward  encouragements,  and. 
therefore  the  less  danger  of  multitudes  o. 
hypocrites,  which,  as  vermin  in  summer, 
breed  most  in  the  time  of  the  church's  pros- 
perity. Though  no  naticjn  or  kingd(jm  had' 
then  universally  received  the  faith,  but  rathen 
hated  and  persecuted  it,  yet,  were  there  even, 
then  among  them,  as  the  writings  of  the 
apostles  testify,  false  breihreii,  and  inordi- 
nate walkers,  and  men  of  corrupt  minds,, 
eartlily-minded,  and  led  with  a  spiriiof  envy 
and  contention  and  vain-glory. 

Although  the  question  that  is  moved  con- 
cerning the  necessary  qualifications  of  all  the 
members  of  a  true  visible  church  can  no  way 
(as  I  conceive)  be  decided  from  the  inscrip- 
tions of  the  epistles,  yet  certainly  they  are  use- 
ful to  teach  Christians  and  Christian  churches 
what  they  ought  to  be,  and  what  their  hcly 
profession  requires  of  them,  and  sharply  ro 
reprove  the  gross  unlikcness  and  inconfor- 
mity  that  is  in  the  most  part  of  men  to  the 
description  of  Christians.  As  there  be  some 
that  are  too  strait  in  their  judgment  concern- 
ing the  being  and  nature  of  the  visil)le  church, 
so  certainly  the  greatest  part  of  churches  are 
too  loose  'n  their  practice. 
From  the  dissimilitude  betwixtour  church.ea- 


^6 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  1 


and  tl  jfe  we  may  make  tliis  use  of  reproof,  I 
tliat  if  ill!  api  sloficrJ  epistle  were  to  be  di- 
rected to  us,  It  ought  to  be  inscribed,  to  the 
ignorant,  profane,  malicious,  &c.  As  he, 
who  at  tlie  hearing  of  the  gospel  read,  said, 
"  Either  this  is  not  the  gospel,  or  we  are  not 
Christians,"  so,  either  these  characters,  giv- 
en in  the  inscription  of  these  epistles,  are  not 
true  characters,  or  we  are  not  true  Christians. 

Ver.  2.  Klect,  accoriliiig  to  the  foreknowledge  of 
God  the  Fattier,  tlirougli  sanctifieiitiou  of  the 
sj)ii  il,  unto  obedience,  and  sprinkling  of  tlie  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

In  this  verse  we  have  their  condition  and 
the  causes  of  it. — Their  condition  sanctified 
and  justified ;  the  former  expressed  by  obe- 
dience, the  latter  by  sprinkling  of  the  blood  of 
Christ.  The  causes,  I.  Eternal  election,  2. 
7'Ae  execution  of  that  decree,  their  effectual 
callini>,  which  (I  conceive)  is  meant  by  elec- 
tion  here,  the  selecting  them  out  of  the  world, 
and  joining  them  to  the  fellowship  of  the  ] 
children  ol  God.  So  John  xv.  19.  The  for- 
mer, election,  is  particularly  ascribed  to  God 
the  Fatlier,  the  latter  to  the  Holy  Spirit : 
and  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Sou  of 
God,  is  here  assigned  as  the  cause  of  their 
justification;  and  so  the  whole  trinity  con- 
curring dignify  them  with  this  their  spiritual 
and  hapi)y  estate. 

First,  I  shall  discourse  of  these  separately, 
and  then  of  their  connexion. 

1.  Of  the  state  itself,  and  1,  of  justifica- 
tion, though  named  last. 

This  sprinkling  has  respect  to  the  rite  of 
the  legal  purification  by  the  sprinkling  of 
blood  ;  and  that  appositely,  for  these  rites  of 
sprinkling  and  blood  did  all  point  out  this 
blood  and  this  sprinkling,  and  exhibited  this 
true  ransoms  of  souls,  which  was  only  shad- 
owed by  them. 

The  use  and  end  of  sprinkling  were  purt- 
ficalion  and  expiation,  because  sin  merited 
death,  and  the  pollutions  and  stains  of  hu- 
man nature  were  by  sin.  Such  is  the  pollu- 
tion, that  it  can  be  no  maimer  of  way  wash- 
ed oil'  but  by  blood.  (Heb.  ix.  22.)  Neither 
is  there  any  blood  able  to  purge  from  sin  ex- 
cept the  most  precious  blood  of  Jesus  Christ, 
which  is  called  (Acts  xx.  28)  the  blood  of 
God. 

That  the  stain  of  sin  can  be  washed  off  | 
only  by  blood,  intimates  that  it  merits  death  ; 
and  that  no  blood,  but  that  of  the  Son  of  God, 
can  do  it,  intimates  that  this  stain  merits 
eternal  death  ;  and  it  had  been  our  portion, 
except  the  death  of  the  eternal  Lord  of  life 
had  freed  us  from  it. 

Fillhiness  needs  sprinkling  ;  guiltiness  (such 
as  deserves  death)  needs  sprinkling  of  blood  ; 
and  the  death  it  deserves  being  everlasting 
death,  the  blood  must  be  the  blood  of  Christ, 
the  eternal  Lord  of  life,  dying  to  free  us  from 
the  sentence  of  death. 

The  soul  (as  the  body)  hath  its  life,  its 
bealth,  its  purity,  and  the  contrary  of  these. 


— its  death,  diseases,  deformities,  and  impu- 
rity— which  belong  to  it  as  to  th  eir  first  sub- 
ject, and  to  the  body  by  particijiation. 

The  soul  and  body  of  all  mankind  are 
stained  by  the  j)ollution  of  sin.  The  impure 
leprosy  oi'  the  soul  is  not  a  spot  outwardly 
but  wholly  inward  ;  hence,  as  the  corportv' 
leprosy  was  purified  by  the  sprinkling  ot 
blood,  so  is  this.  Then,  by  reflecting,  we 
see  how  all  this  that  the  apostle  St.  Peter  ex- 
presseth  is  necessary  tojustification.  1.  Christ, 
the  mediator  betwixt  God  and  nnm,  is  Goa 
and  man.  2.  A  mediator  not  only  interce- 
ding, but  also  satisfying  (Eph.  ii.  16).  3. 
This  satisfaction  doth  not  reconcile  us,  un- 
less it  be  applied  :  therefore  there  is  not  only 
mention  of  blood,  but  the  sprinkling  of  it. 
The  Spirit  by  fai  sprinkleth  the  soul,  as 
with  hysso|),  wherewith  tlie  sjwinkling  was 
made:  this  is  it  of  which  the  proiihet  speaks 
(fsa.  lii.  15),  So  shall  he  sprinkle  many  na- 
tions; and  which  the  a])ostle  to  the  Hebrews 
]  prefers  above  all  legal  sprinklings  (chap.  ix. 
12,  13,  14),  both  as  to  its  duration  and  as  to 
the  excellency  of  its  effects. 

Men  are  not  easily  convinced  and  per- 
suaded of  the  deep  stain  of  sin,  and  that  no 
other  laver  can  fetch  it  out  but  the  sprink- 
ling of  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  Some  who 
have  moral  resolutions  of  amendment,  dis- 
like at  least  gross  sins,  and  purpose  to  avoid 
them,  and  it  is  to  them  cleanness  enough  to 
reform  in  those  things  ;  but  they  consider 
not  what  becomes  of  the  guiltiness  they  have 
contracted  already,  and  how  that  shall  be 
purged,  how  their  natural  pollution  shall  be 
taken  away.  Be  not  deceived  in  this,  it  is 
not  a  transient  sigh,  or  a  light  word,  or  a 
wish  of  God  forgive  me;  no,  nor  the  high- 
est current  of  repentance,  nor  that  which  is 
the  truest  evidence  of  repentance,  amend- 
ment ;  it  is  none  of  these  that  purify  in  the 
sight  of  God,  and  expiate  wrath  ;  they  are 
all  imperfect  and  stained  themselves,  can  not 
stand  and  answer  for  themselves,  much  less 
be  of  value  to  counterpoise  the  former  guilt 
of  sin.  The  very  tears  of  the  purest  repen- 
tance, unless  they  be  sprinkled  with  this 
blood,  are  impure  ;  all  our  washings  without 
this  are  but  washings  of  the  blackmoor — it 
is  labor  in  vain.  Jer.  ii.  22  ;  Job  ix.  30,  31. 
There  are  none  truly  purified  by  the  blood  of 
I  Christ  who  do  not  endeavor  after  purity  ot 
heart  and  conversation  ;  but  yet  it  is  the  blood 
of  Christ  by  which  they  are  all  made  fair, 
and  there  is  no  spot  in  them.  Here  it  is  said. 
elect  to  obedience  ;  but  because  that  obedience 
is  not  perfect,  there  must  be  sprinkling  of 
the  blood  too.  There  is  nothing  in  religion 
further  out  of  nature's  reach,  and  out  of  its 
liking  and  believing,  than  the  doctrine  of 
redemption  by  a  Savior,  and  a  crucified  Sa 
vior, — by  Christ,  and  by  his  blood,  first  shed 
on  the  cross  in  his  suffering,  and  then  sprin- 
kled on  the  soul  by  his  spirit.  It  is  eas  er  tu 
make  men  sensible  of  the  necessity  of  repen- 
tance and  amendment  of   life  'though  \ha* 


Ver.  2.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


67 


IS  very  difficult),  than  of  this  purging  by  the 
sprinkling  of  this  precious  blood.  Did  we 
see  how  needful  Christ  is  to  us,  we  should 
esteem  and  love  him  more. 

It  is  not  by  the  hearing  of  Christ  and  of 
his  blood  in  the  doctrine  of  the  gospel  ;  it  is 
not  by  the  sprinkling  of  water,  even  that 
water  which  is  the  sign  of  this  blood  with- 
out the  blood  itself  and  the  sprinkling  of  it. 
Many  are  present  where  it  is  sprinkled,  and 
yet  have  no  portion  of  it.  Look  to  this,  that 
this  blood  be  sprinkled  on  your  souls,  that 
the  destroying  angel  may  pass  by  you.  There 
IS  a  generation  (not  some  few,  but  a  genera- 
tion) deceived  in  this;  they  are  their  own 
deceivers,  pure  in  their  own  eyes.  (Prov. 
XXX.  12.)  How  earnestly  doth  David  pray, 
Wash  me,  purge  me  with  hyssop !  Though 
bathed  in  tears  (Psal.  vi.  6)  that  satisfied 
not:  Wash  thou  me.  Tiiis  is  the  honorable 
condition  of  the  saints,  that  they  are  puri- 
fied and  consecrated  unto  G-od  by  this  sprin- 
kling ;  yea,  they  have  on  long;  white  robes 
washed  in  the  blond  of  the  Lamb.  There  is 
mention  indeed  o{  great  tribulation,  hxii  there 
is  a  double  comfort  joined  with  it.  1.  They 
come  out  of  it ;  that  tribulation  hath  an  end. 
And,  2.  They  pass  from  that  to  glory  ;  for 
they  have  on  the  robe  of  candidates,  long 
white  robes  ivashed  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb, 
washed  white  in  blood.  As  for  this  blood, 
it  is  nothing  but  purity  and  spotlessness,  be- 
ing stained  with  no  sin,  and  besides  hath  that 
virtue  to  take  away  the  stain  of  sin,  wliere  it 
IS  sprinkled.  My  well-beloved  is  white  and 
ruddy,  saith  the  spouse  ;  thus  in  his  death, 
ruddy  by  bloodshed,  white  by  innocence  and 
))urity  of  tliat  blood. 

Shall  they  then,  who  are  purified  by  this 
blood,  return  to  live  among  the  swine,  and 
tumble  with  them  in  the  puddle  ?  What 
gross  injury  were  this  to  themselves,  and  to 
that  blood  by  whicli  they  are  cleansed  !  Tliey 
who  are  chosen  to  this  sprmklim!,  are  like- 
wise chosen  to  obedience.  'J'his  blood  puri- 
fieth  the  heart  ;  yea,  this  blood  purgeth  our 
consciences  from  dead  works  to  serve  the  liv- 
ing God.    (Heb.  ix.  14.) 

2.  Of  their  sanctification.  Elect  unto  obe- 
dience.] It  is  easily  understood  to  whom. 
When  obedience  to  God  is  expressed  by  the 
simple  absolute  name  of  obedience,  it  teach- 
eth  us  that  to  him  alone  belongs  absolute  and 
unlimited  obedience,  all  obedience  by  all 
creatures.  It  is  the  shame  and  misery  oi' 
man,  that  he  hatl.  departed  trom  this  obe- 
dience, that  we  are  become  .son.?  of  disobe- 
dience ;  but  grace,  renewing  the  hearts  of 
believers,  changeth  their  natures,  and  so  their 
names,  and  makes  tliern  children  of  obedience 
fas  afterward  in  this  chapter).  As  this  obe- 
dience consists  in  tlie  receiving  Christ  as  our 
Redeemer,  so  also  at  the  same  time  as  our 
lord  or  king  ;  there  is  an  entire  rendering 
up  of  the  whole  man  to  his  obedience.  This 
obedience,  then,  of  the  only-be:rotten  Jesus 
Christ,  may  well  be  understood  not  as  <iis 


actively,  as  Beza  interprets  it,  but  objectively 
as  2  Cor.  x.  5.  I  think  here  it  is  contained, 
yea  chiefly  understood  to  signify  that  obedi- 
ence which  the  apostle  in  the  epistle  to  the 
Romans  calls  the  obedience  of  faith,  by  which 
the  doctrine  of  Christ  is  received  (and  so 
Christ  himself),  which  uniteth  the  believing 
soul  to  Christ — he  sprinkles  it  with  his  blood, 
to  the  remission  of  sin — and  which  is  the 
root  and  spring  of  all  future  obedience  in  the 
Ciiristian  life. 

By  obedience,  sanctification  is  here  intima- 
ted ;  it  signifies  then,  both  habitual  and  ac- 
tive obedience,  renovation  of  heart,  and  con- 
formity to  the  divine  will.  The  mind  is  illu- 
minated by  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  know  and 
believe  the  divine  will ;  yea,  this  faith  is  the 
great  and  chief  part  of  obedience.  (See 
Rora.  i.  8.)  The  truth  of  the  doctrine  is  first 
impressed  on  the  mind  ;  hence  flows  out 
pleasant  obedience,  and  full  of  love;  hence 
all  the  afl'ections,  and  the  whole  body,  with 
its  members,  learn  to  give  a  willing  obedi- 
ence, and  submit  unto  God  ;  whereas  before 
they  resisted  him,  being  under  the  standard 
of  Satan. 

This  obedience,  though  imperfect,  yet  hath 
a  certain  (if  I  may  so  say)  imperfect  verfec- 
tion.  It  is  universal  in  three  manner  ol  ways. 
1.  In  the  subject.  2.  In  the  object.  3.  In 
the  duration:  the  whole  man  is  subjected  to 
the  whole  law,  and  that  constantly  and  per- 
severingly. 

The  first  universality  is  the  cause  of  the 
other  :  because  it  is  n-.n  in  the  tongue  alone, 
or  in  the  hand,  &c.,  but  has  its  root  in  the 
heart ;  therefore  it  doth  not  wither  as  the 
grass,  or  flower  lying  on  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  but  it  flourishes  because  rooted.  And 
it  embraces  the  whole  law,  because  it  arises 
from  a  reverence  it  has  for  the  lawgiver 
himself.  Reverence,  I  say,  but  tempered 
wnh  love  ;  hence,  it  accounts  no  law  nor 
C(jmmand  little,  or  of  small  value,  which  is 
from  God,  because  he  is  great  and  highly 
esteemed  by  the  pious  heart  :  no  command 
hard  (though  contrary  to  the  flesh),  because 
all  things  are  easy  to  love.  There  is  the 
same  autiioriiy  in  all,  as  St.  James  divinely 
argues  ;  and  this  authority  is  the  golden  chaia 
of  all  the  comniandmeiits,  which  if  broken 
in  any  link,  all  falls  lo  pieces. 

That  tills  threefold  perfection  of  obedience 
is  not  a  picture  drawn  by  fancy,  is  evident  in 
David,  Psalm  cxix.,  where  he  subjects  him- 
self to  the  whole  law  ;  his  feet,  ver.  105  ; 
his  mouth,  ver,  13;  his  heart,  ver.  11  ;  tht 
whole  tenor  of  his  life,  ver.  24.  He  subjects 
himself  to  the  whole  law,  ver.  6,  and  he 
professes  his  constancy  therein,  in  verses  16 
and  33.  Teach  me  the  way  of  thy  statutes,  and 
I  shalt  keep  it  unto  the  end. 

II.  We  have  the  causes  of  the  condition 
above  described. 

Accordmcc  to  the  foreknowled ge  of  God  the 
Father.]  The  exactest  knowledge  of  things 
is,  to  know  them  in  their  cat  9S  ;  it  is  then 


C8  A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


an  excellent  thins,  and  worthy  of  their  en- 1 
deavors  who  are  most  desirous  of  knowledi^e, 
to  know  the  best  tliin'^s  in  their  hL^licst 
causes;  and  the  happiest  way  of  attaining 
to  this  knowledge,  is,  to  possess  those  things, 
and  to  know  tiieni  in  experience.  To  such 
persons  the  ai)ostle  here  speaks,  and  sets  be- 
fore lliem  the  excellency  of  their  spiritual 
condition,  and  leads  thein  to  the  causes  of  it. 

Their  state  is,  that  ihey  are  sanclijied  and 
justified  :  the  nearest  cause  of  bolli  these  is, 
Jesus  Christ.  He  is  made  unto  them  both 
righleousness  and  sn ii c I iji cation  :  the  sprink- 
ling of  his  blood  purifies  them  from  guilti- 
ness, and  quickens  them  to  obedience. 

The  appropriating  or  applying  cause  comes 
next  under  consideraiiou,  which  is  the  ho/i/, 
and  huly-inukiHg  or  sunctifipng  spirit,  the 
autlior  of  tiieir  selection  from  the  world,  and 
elfeclual  calling  unto  grace. 

The  source  of  all  the  appointing  or  decree- 
ing cause,  is  God  the  Father:  for  though 
they  all  work  equally  in  all,  yet,  in  order  of 
working,  we  are  taught  thus  to  distinguish 
and  particularly  to  ascribe  the  first  work  of 
eternal  election  to  the  first  person  of  the 
blessed  trinity. 

In  or  throvgh  sanctijicniion.]  For  to  ren- 
der it,  elect  to  the  saitctificatnm,  is  strained : 
so  then  I  conceive  this  election  is  their  effect- 
ual calling,  which  is  by  the  working  of  the 
Holy  Spirit :  see  1  Cor.  i.  26-28,  where  voca- 
tton  and  election  are  used  in  the  same  sense: 
Ye  see  your  calling,  brethren,  how  that  not 
many  wise  men  after  the  Jlesh,  &c.,  but  God 
hath  chosen  the  foolish  thi?tgs  oj"  the  world  to 
confound  the  wise.  It  is  the  hrst  act  of  de- 
cree of  election  ;  the  beginning  of  its  per- 
formance in  those  that  are  elected  ;  and  it  is 
in  itself  a  real  separating  of  men  from  the 
profane  and  miserable  condition  of  the  world, 
and  an  appropriating  and  consecrating  of  a 
man  unto  God  ;  and  therefore,  both  in  re- 
gard of  its  relation  to  election,  and  in  regard 
of  its  own  nature,  it  well  bears  that  name. 
See  Rom.  viii.  28,  30 ;  Acts  ii.  47,  and  xiii. 
48  ;  John  xv.  19. 

Sanctification  in  the  narrower  sense  as  dis- 
tinguished from  justification,  signifieth  the 
inherent  holiness  of  a  Christian,  or  his  being 
inclined  and  enabled  to  perform  the  obedience 
mentioned  in  this  verse  ;  but  it  has  here  a  sense 
more  large,  and  is  co-extended  with  the 
whole  work  of  renovation  ;  it  is  the  severing  or 
separating  of  men  to  God,  by  his  Holy  Spirit, 
drawing  them  unto  him  ;  and  so  it  compre- 
hends justification  (as  here)  and  the  first 
working  of  faith,  by  which  the  soul  is  justi- 
fied, through  its  apprehending  and  applying 
the  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Of  the  Spirit.]  The  word  calls  men  exter- 
nally, and  by  that  external  calling  prevails 
with  many  to  an  external  reccivin;^  and  pro- 
fessing ol'  religion;  but  if  it  be  left  alone  it 
goes  no  farther.  It  is  indeed  the  means  of 
sanctification  and  effectual  calling,  as  John 
svii.  17,  Sanctify  them  through  thy  truth; 


[Ckap,  i. 

but  this  it  doth  when  the  spirit,  which  speaks 
in  tJie  word,  works  in  the  heart,  and  causes 
it  to  hear  and  obey.  The  spirit  or  soul  of  a 
man  is  the  chief  and  the  first  subject  of  this 
work,  and  it  is  but  slight  false  work  that  be- 
gins not  there  ;  but  the  spirit  here  is  to  be 
taken  for  the  s])irit  of  God,  the  efficient, 
rather  than  for  the  spirit  of  man,  the  subject 
of  this  sanctification.  And  therefore  our  Sa- 
vior in  that  place  prays  to  the  Father,  t/iat 
he  n-fluld  sanclij'y  his  own  by  that  truth  ;  and 
this  lie  doetli  by  the  concurrence  of  his  Spirit 
with  that  word  of  truth  which  is  the  life  and 
vigor  of  it,  and  makes  it  prove  the  power  of 
God  unto  salvation  to  them  that  believe.  It  is 
a  fit  means  in  itself,  but  it  is  a  prevailing 
means  only  when  the  spirit  of  God  brings  it 
into  the  heart.  It  is  a  sword,  and  sharper 
than  a  two-edged  sword  fit  to  divide,  yea,  even 
to  the  dividing  of  soul  and  spirit  ;  but  this  it 
doth  not,  unless  it  be  in  the  Spirit's  hand, 
and  he  apply  it  to  this  cutting  and  dividing. 
The  word  calls, but  thespirit  draws, not  sever- 
ed from  that  word,  but  working  in  it,  and  by  it. 

It  is  very  difficult  work  to  draw  a  soul  out 
of  the  hands  and  strong  ciiains  of  Sa'm,  and 
out  of  the  pleasing  entanglements  ci  the 
world,  and  out  of  its  own  natural  perverse- 
ness,  to  yield  up  itself  unto  God — to  deny 
itself,  and  live  to  him,  and  in  so  doing,  to 
run  against  the  main  stream,  and  the  current 
of  the  ungodly  world  without,  and  corrup- 
tion within. 

The  strongest  rhetoric,  the  most  moving 
and  persuasive  way  of  discourse,  is  all  too 
weak  :  the  tongue  of  men  or  angels  can  not 
prevail  with  the  soul  to  free  itself,  and  shake 
off  all  that  detains  it.  Although  it  be  con- 
vinced of  the  truth  of  those  things  that  are 
represented  to  it,  yet  still  it  can  and  will  hold 
out  against  it,  and  say,  Non  persuadebis  eti 
anisi  persuaseris. 

The  hand  of  man  is  too  weak  to  pluck  any 
soul  out  of  the  crowd  of  the  world,  and  to  set 
it  in  among  the  select  number  of  believers. 
Only  the  Father  of  Spirits  hath  absolute 
command  of  spirits,  viz.,  the  souls  of  men, 
to  work  on  them  as  he  pleaseth,  and  where 
ht  will.  This  powerful,  this  sanctifying 
§p  It  knows  no  resistance ;  works  swef  tly, 
and  yet  strongly  ;  it  can  come  into  the  heart, 
whereas  all  other  speakers  are  forced  to  stand 
without.  That  still  voice  within  persuades 
more  than  all  the  loud  crying  without ;  as  he 
that  is  within  the  house,  though  he  speaks 
low,  is  better  heard  and  understood,  than  he 
that  shouts  without  doors. 

When  the  Lord  himself  speaks  by  this 
his  Spirit  to  a  man,  selecting  and  calling  him 
out  of  the  lost  world,  he  can  no  more  diso- 
bey than  Abraham  did,  when  the  Lord  spoke 
to  him  after  an  extraordinary  manner,  to  de- 
part from  his  own  country  and  kindred : 
Abraham  departed  as  the  Lord  had  spoken  to 
him,  Gen.  xij.  4.  There  is  a  secret,  but  very 
powerful  virtue  in  a  word,  or  look,  cr  touch 
of  this  Spirit  upon  the  soul,  by  which  it  is 


Ver.  2.' 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


69 


forced  not  tnth  a  harsh,  but  a  pleasing  vio- 
lence, and  can  not  clioose  but  follow  it.  mt 
unlike  that  of  Elijah's  mantle  upon  ElisKa. 
How  easily  did  the  disciples  forsake  their 
callings  and  their  dwellings  to  follow  Christ ! 

The  Spirit  of  God  draws  a  man  out  of  the 
world  by  a  sanctified  light  sent  into  his  mind, 
1.  Discovering  to  bim,  how  base  and  false 
the  sweetness  of  sin  is,  which  withholds  men 
rand  amuses  them,  that  they  return  not ;  and 
how  true  and  sad  the  bitterness  is  that  will 
follow  upon  it ;  2.  Setting  before  his  eyes 
the  free  and  happy  condition,  the  glorious 
liberty  of  the  sons  of  God,  the  riches  of  their 
present  enjoyment,  and  their  far  larger  and 
assured  hopes  for  hereafter ;  3.  Making  the 
beauty  of  Jesus  Christ  visible  to  the  soul ; 
which  straightway  takes  it  so,  that  it  can 
not  be  stayed  from  coming  to  him,  though  its 
most  beloved  friends,  most  beloved  sins,  lie 
in  the  way,  and  hang  about  it,  and  cry,  Will 
you  leave  us  so  ?  It  will  tread  upon  all  to 
come  within  the  embraces  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  say  with  St.  Paul,  /  was  not  disobedient 
to  (or  unpersuaded  hi/)  the  heavenly  vision. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  the  godly  are  by  some 
called  singular  and  precise  ;  they  are  so,  sin- 
gular, a  few  selected  ones  picked  out  by 
God's  own  hand,  for  himself:  Know  that  the 
Lord  hath  set  apart  him  that  is  godly  for 
himself.  Psalm  iv.  3.  Therefore,  saith  our 
Savior,  the  world  hates  you,  because  I  have 
chosen  you  out  of  the  world.  For  the  world 
lies  in  unholiness  and  wickedness — is  buried 
m  it ;  and  as  living  men  can  have  no  pleasure 
among  the  dead,  neither  can  these  elected 
ones  among  the  ungodly:  they  walk  iu  the 
world  as  warily  as  a  man  or  woman  neatly 
apparelled  would  do  among  a  multitude  that 
are  all  sullied  and  bemired. 

Endeavor  to  have  this  sanctifying  Spirit  in 
yourselves;  pray  much  for  it ;  for  his  promise 
Is  passed  to  us,  that  He  will  give  this  Holi/ 
Spirit  to  them  that  ask  it.  ^nd  shall  wc  be 
such  fools  as  to  want  it,  for  want  of  asking  ? 
When  we  find  heavy  fetters  on  our  souls, 
and  much  weakness,  yea,  averseness  to  fol- 
low the  voice  of  God  calling  ma  to  his  obedi- 
ence, then  let  us  pray  with  the  Spouse,  Draw 
me.  She  can  not  go  nor  stir  wiliiout  that 
drawing  ;  and  yet,  with  it,  not  only  gots,  but 
runs.     We  will  run  after  thee. 

Think  it  not  enough  that  you  hesr  the 
word,  and  use  the  outward  ordinances  of 
God,  and  profess  his  name  ;  for  many  are 
thus  called,  and  yet  but  a  few  of  them  are 
chostn.  There  is  but  small  part  of  the  world 
outwardly  called,  in  comparison  of  the  rest 
that  is  not  so,  and  yet  the  number  of  tho 
true  elect  is  so  small,  that  it  gains  the  num- 
ber of  these  that  are  called,  the  name  of 
rnani/.  They  who  are  in  the  visible  church, 
and  partake  of  external  vocation,  are  but  like 
a  large  list  of  names  (as  in  civil  elections  is 
usual),  out  of  which  a  small  number  is  cho- 
sen to  the  diirnity  of  true  Christians,  and  in- 
tested  into  iheir  privilege.     Some  men  iu 


nomination  to  offices  or  employments,  think 
it  a  worse  disappointment  and  disgrace  to 
have  been  in  the-  list,  and  yet  not  chosen, 
than  if  their  names  had  not  been  mentioned 
at  all.  Certainly  it  is  a  greater  unhappiness 
to  have  been  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God 
(as  our  Savior  speaks),  and  miss  of  it,  than 
still  to  have  remained  in  the  farthest  dis- 
tance :  to  have  been  at  the  mouih  of  the 
haven  (the  fair  havens  indeed),  and  yet  driv- 
en back  and  shipwrecked.  Your  labor  is 
most  preposterous  ;  you  seek  to  ascertain  and 
make  sure  tlungs  that  can  not  be  made  sure, 
and  that  which  is  both  more  worth,  and  may 
be  made  surer  than  them  all,  you  will  not 
endeavor  to  make  sure.  Hearken  to  the 
apostle's  advice,  and  at  length  set.  about  this 
in  earnest,  to  make  your  railing  and  election 
sure.  Make  sure  this  election,  as  it  is  here 
(for  that  is  the  order),  your  effectual  calling 
sure,  and  that  will  bring  with  it  assurance 
"f  the  other,  the  eternal  election  and  love  of 
God  toward  you,  which  follows  to  be  consid- 
ered. 

According  to  the  foreknowledge  of  God  the 
Father.]  Known  unto  God  are  all  his  works 
from  the  beginning,  saith  the  apostle  James. 
Acts  XV.  18.  He  sees  all  things  from  the  be- 
ginning of  time  to  the  end  of  it,  and  beyond 
to  all  eternity,  and  from  all  eternity  lie  did 
foresee  them.  But  this  foreknowledge  here 
relates  peculiarly  to  the  elect.  Verba  sensus 
in  sacra  scriptura  denolant  nffeclus.  as  the 
Rabbins  remark.  So  in  ma%,  Psal.lxvi.,  //"/ 
see  ini'/vily  ;  and  in  God,  Psal.  i.  6,  For  the 
Lord  kimweth  the  way  of  the  righteous,  &c. 
And  a^ain,  Amos  iii.  2,  You  only  have  1 
known  of  all  the  families  of  the  earth,  &c. 
And  in  that  speech  of  our  Savior,  relating  it 
as  the  terrible  doom  of  reprobates  at  the  last 
day,  Depart,  &c.,  /  know  you  not,  I  never 
knew  you.  So  St.  Paul,  Rom.  vii.  15,  For 
that  which  I  do,  I  allow  [Gr.  know]  not.  And 
Beza  observes  that  yn'  jo-vtir  is  by  tne  Greeks 
sometimes  taken  for  decernere,  judicare  ; 
thus  some  speak,  to  congnosce  upon  a  bii.«i- 
tiess.  So  then  this  foreknowledge  is  nootiier 
than  that  eternal  love  of  God,  or  decree  of 
election,  by  which  some  are  ap])ointed  unto 
life,  and  being  foreknown  or  (fleeted  to  that 
end,  they  are  [)redestinate  to  the  way  to  it. 
For  whorn  he  did  foreknow,  he  also  did  pre- 
destinate to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of 
/•■is  Son,  that  he  might  he  the  first-born  among 
many  brethren.    Rom.  viii.  29. 

It  is  most  vain  to  imagine  a  foresight  of 
faith  in  men,  and  that  God  in  the  view 
of  that  faith,  as  the  condition  of  election  it- 
self, as  it  is  called,  has  chosen  them :  for, 
1.  Nothuig  ?t  all  is  futurum,  or  can  have  that 
imagined  Ititurhicn,  but  as  it  is,  and  because 
it  is  decreed  by  God  to  be  ;  and,  therefore 
(as  .>ays  the  Ap''stl°  St.  James,  in  the  i)as- 
fiag3  bofore  cited ^,  Knc'-vn  uv.to  God  are  all 
his  w.)rks,  h:^canse  tk^y  are  bis  W')rks  in 
time,  and  his  purpose  from  'uernuy.  2.  It 
is  most  absurd  tog-ive  hay  reason  if  D'^'ae 


70 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  I 


will  wi;}iou;  himself.  3.  'J  his  supposilion 
easily  sul VIS  all  ihu  dillifulty  wiiicli  ilu' a))os- 
tle  spi'iik.-^  t>l';  anil  yet  iu- revcr  ihouiihl  of 
sueli  a  si)liuiun,  bm  runs  liii^h  for  an  answer, 
•not  to  satisfy  cavilling  reasni,  hut  to  silence 
it,  and  stop  its  mouth  :  for  thus  the  apostle 
argues,  Rom.  ix.  1!),  20:  Thou  in/l  sai/  thru 
unto  /lie,  W  hy  dolh  he  yet  find  ftntlt  ;  for 
who  hath  resisted  his  irill  f  ytiy,  hut,  O  man, 
who  art  thou  that  repltvst  Ui^ainst  God,  ? 
Who  can  conceive  whence  this  should  be, 
that  any  man  should  believe,  unless  it  be 
Itiveu  him  of  God  ?  And  if  given  him,  then 
It  was  his  ])urpose  to  give  it  him  ;  and  if  so, 
then  is  evident  that  he  had  a  purpose  to 
save  him  :  and  for  timt  end  he  gives  faith  : 
Dol  therefore  ])urposes  to  save,  because  man 
shall  believe.  4.  This  seen;s  cross  to  these 
Scriptures,  where  they  speak  of  the  subordi- 
nation, or  rather  co-ordination,  of  those  two: 
as  hcTC,  foreknown  and  elect,  not  because  of 
obedience,  or  sprinklina',  or  nny  such  thing, 
but  to  obedience  and  spriiilcl  ng  which  is  by 
faith.  So  God  predestinated,  not  because  he 
foresaw  men  would  be  conformed  to  Christ, 
but  that  they  might  be  so.  Rom.  viii.  29, 
For  whom  he  did  foreJcnow  he  also  did  pre- 
destinate. And  the  same  order  is  observable, 
Actsii.  47,  And  the  Lord  added  to  the  Church 
dally  such  as  should  be  saved.  Also  xiii.  48, 
And  as  many  as  were  ordained  to  eternal  life 
believed. 

This  foreknowledge,  then,  is  his  eternal 
and  exchangeable  love;  and  that  thus  he 
chooseth  some,  and  rejecleth  others,  is  for 
tiial  great  end,  to  manilcst  and  magnify  his 
mercy  and  justice  :  but  why  he  appointed  this 
man  for  the  one,  and  that  man  for  the  otlicr, 
made  Peter  a  vessel  of  this  mercy,  and  Judas 
of  wrath,  this  is  even  so,  because  it  seemed 
good  to  him.  This,  if  it  be  harsh,  yet  is 
apostolic  doctrine.  Hath  not  /he  potter  (saith 
St.  Paul)  power  over  the  same  lump,  to  make 
one  vessel  unto  honor  and  another  unto  di.t- 
honor  ?  This  deep  we  must  admire,  and  al- 
ways, in  considering  it,  close  with  this:  O  the 
depth  of  the  riches,  both  oj"  the  wisdomand  knowl- 
edise  of  God  ! 

III.  The  connexion  of  these  we  are  now  for 
our  profit  to  take  notice  of ;  that  effectual 
ciilluii^  is  inseparably  tied  to  iliis  eternal/ore- 
knoiL'ledi^e  or  election  on  the  one  side,  and  to 
salvation  on  the  other.  These  two  links  of 
tlie  chain  are  up  in  heaven  inGod'sowH  hand; 
but  this  middle  one  is  let  down  to  earth  into 
the  hearts  ot'  his  children,  and  they,  laying 
hold  on  it,  have  sure  hold  on  the  other  two, 
for  no  power  can  sever  them.  If.  therefore, 
they  can  read  the  characters  of  God's  image 
in  their  own  souls,  those  are  the  counter-part 
of  the  golden  characters  of  his  love,  in  which 
their  names  are  written  in  the  book  of  life. 
Their  believing  writes  their  names  under  the 
promises  of  tiie  revealed  book  of  life,  the 
Scriptures,  and  so  ascertains  them,  that  the 
same  names  are  in  tiie  secret  book  of  life 
which  God  liatli  by  himself  from  eternity. 


So  that  finding  the  stream  of  grace  in  then 
hearts,  thouirh  they  see  not  the  fountain 
whence  it  flows,  nor  the  ocean  into  which  it 
returns,  yet  they  know  that  it  hath  its  source, 
and  shall  return  to  that  ocean  which  ariseth 
from  their  eternal  election,  and  shall  empty 
itself  into  that  'j  ernity  of  happiness  and  salva- 
tion. 

Hence  muc.i  joy  ariseth  to  the  believer: 
this  tie  is  indissoluble,  as  the  agents  are,  the 
Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit  :  so  are  elec- 
tion^ and  vocation,  and  sanctificution,  and 
justification,  and  <slory.  Therefore,  in  all 
conditions,  believers  may,  from  a  sense  of 
the  working  of  the  Si)irit  in  them,  look  back 
to  that  clection,'and  forward  to  that  salvation  ; 
but  they  thai  remain  unholy  and  disobedient, 
have  as  yet  no  evidence  of  this  love  ;  and 
therefore  can  not,  without  vain  presumption 
and  self-delusion,  judge  thus  of  themselves, 
that  they  are  within  the  peculiar  love  of  God. 
But  in  this,  Let  the  ri<(hteous  be  glad,  and  let 
them  shout  for  joy,  all  that  are  upright  in 
heart. 

It  is  one  main  point  of  haj)pine'ss,  that  he 
that  is  happy  doth  know  and  judge  himself 
to  be  so  :  this  bein?  the  peculiar  good  of  a 
reasonable  creature,  it  is  to  be  enjoyed  in  a 
reasonable  way  ;  it  is  not  as  the  dull  resting 
of  a  stone,  or  any  other  natural  body  in  its 
natural  place  ;  but  the  knowledge  and  con- 
sideration of  it  is  the  fruition  of  it,  the  very 
relishing  and  tasting  its  sweetness. 
'  The  perfect  blessedness  of  the  saints  is 
awaiting  thetn  above  ;  but  even  their  present 
condition  is  truly  hapjiy,  though  incompletely, 
and  but  a  small  beginning  ol'lhat  whicli  they 
expect.  And  this  their  present  happiness  is 
so  much  the  greater  the  more  clear  knowl- 
edge and  firm  persuasion  they  have  of  it.  It 
is  one  of  the  pleasant  fruits  of  the  godly,  to 
know  the  thin<^s  that  are  freely  given  them  of 
God,  1  Cor.  ii.  12.  Therefore  the  apostle,  to 
comfort  his  dispersed  brethren,  sets  before 
them  a  description  of  that  excellent  spiritual 
condition  to  which  they  are  called. 

If  election,  effectual  calling,  and  salvation, 
be  inseparably  linked  together,  then,  by  any 
one  of  them  a  man  may  lay  hold  ujion  all  the 
rest,  and  may  know  that  his  hold  is  sure  :  and 
this  is  that  way  wherein  we  may  attain,  and 
ought  to  seek,  that  comfortable  assurance  of 
the  love  of  God.  Therefore  make  your  calling 
sure,  and  by  that,  your  election;  for  that  being 
done,  this  follows  of  itself  We  are  not  to  jiry 
immediately  into  the  decree,  but  to  read  it  in 
the  performance.  Though  the  mariner  see' 
not  the  pole-star,  yet  the  needle  of  the  com 
pass  which  points  to  it,  tells  him  which  way 
he  sails:  thus  the  heart  that  is  touched  with 
the  loadstone  of  Divine  love,  trembling  wilii 
godly  fear,  and  yet  still  looking  lowaril  God 
bv  fixed  believing,  points  at  the  love  of  elec- 
tion, and  tells  the  soul  that  its  course  is 
heavenward,  toward  the  haven  of  eternal 
rest.  He  that  loves  may  be  sure  he  was  loved 
first ;  and  he  that  chooses  God  for  his  delight 


Ver.  2.J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


71 


and  portion  may  conclude  confidently  that 
God  Ijatli  cliosen  him  lo  be  one  oi'  tliose  that 
shall  enjoy  him,  and  be  happy  in  him  for  ever: 
for  that  our  love  and  electing  of  him  is  but 
the  return  and  repercussion  of  the  beams  of 
his  love  shining  upon  us. 

Find  thou  but  within  thee  sanct;fication  by 
the  Spirit,  and  this  argues,  necessarily,  both  I 
justification  by  the  Son,  and  the  election  of 
God  the  Father.  Hereby  know  we  that  ice 
dwell  in  him.  arid  he  in  us,  because  he  has  i^iren 
us  of  his  Spirit.  1  John  iv.  13.  It  is  a  most 
strange  demonstration,  ab  tfftdu  rcciproco  :  \ 
tie  called  those  he  hath  elected  ;  he  elected 
those  he  called.  Where  this  sanctifymg-  Spirit  i 
is  not,  there  can  be  no  persuas'-^n  of  this 
eternal  love  of  God  :  they  that  art  hildren 
of  disobedience  can  conclude  no  otherwise  of 
themselves  but  that  they  are  the  children  of 
wrath.  Although,  from  present  unsanctilica- 
tion,  a  man  cannot  infer  that  he  is  not  elected  ; 
for  the  decree  may,  for  a  part  of  man's  life, 
run  (as  it  were)  under  ground  :  yet  this  is 
sure,  that  the  estate  leads  to  death,  and  un- 
less it  be  broken,  will  prove  the  black  line  of 
reprobation.  A  man  hath  no  portion  among 
the  children  of  God,  nor  can  read  one  word 
of  comfort  in  all  the  promises  that  belong  to 
them,  while  he  remains  unholy.  Men  may 
please  themselves  in  profane  scoffing  at  the 
holy  Spirit  of  grace,  but  let  tbem  withal  know 
this,  that  that  holy  Spirit,  whom  they  inock 
and  despise,  is  that  Spirit  who  seals  men  to 
the  day  of  redemption.  Ephes.  iv.  30.  i 

If  any  pretend  that  they  have  the  Spirit, 
and  so  turn  away  from  the  straight  rule  of  the 
holy  Scri[)tures,  they  have  a  spirit  nideed,  but 
it  is  a  fanatical  spirit,  the  si)irit  of  delusion 
and  giddiness  ;  but  the  S])irit  of  God,  that 
leads  his  children  in  the  way  of  truth,  and  is  , 
for  that  purpose  sent  them  frpm  heaven  to 
guide  ihein  thither,  squares  their  thoughts  1 
and  ways  to  that  rule  whereof  it  is  author,  I 
and  that  word  which  was  inspired  by  it,  and 
sanctifies  ihcm  to  obedience.    He  that  saith, 
J  know  him,  and  kcepeth  not  his  commandments, 
is  a  liar,  and  the  truth  is  not  in  him-    1  John 
ii.  .5.  ,  I 

Now  this  Spirft  which  sanctifieth,  and 
sanctifielh  to  obedience,  is  within  us  ihei 
evidence  of  our  election,  and  the  earnest  of  j 
our  salvation.  And  whoso  are  not  sanctified 
and  led  by  this  Spirit,  the  apostle  tells  us  j 
what  IS  their  condition.  Rom.  viii.  9.  If  any  \ 
man  have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ  ke  is  none  \ 
of  his. 

Let  US  not  delude  ourselves  :  this  is  a  truth,  | 
if  there  be  any  in  religion  ;  they  who  arf  ,iot 
made  saints  in  the  state  of  grace  shall  never 
be  saints  in  glory. 

The  stones  which  are  appointed  for  mat 
glorious  iem[)lc  above  are  hewn  and  polished, 
and  i)re[)ar«  d  for  it  here  ;  as  the  stones  were 
wrou£(lil  and  pre[)ared  in  the  mountains  for 
building  the  temple  at  lerusalem. 

'^his  is  (iod's  order :  Psalm  Ixxxiv.  12.  He 
gives  "race  and  <rlory.    Moralis's  can  tell  us,  | 


that  the  way  to  the  temple  of  honnr  is  through 
the  temple  of  virtue.  They  that  think  they 
are  bound  for  heaven  in  the  ways  of  sin  have 
either  found  a  new  way  untrodden  by  all  that 
are  gone  thither,  or  will  find  themselves 
deceived  ui  the  end.  We  need  not  then  that 
pour  shift  i"or  the  pressing  of  holiness  and 
obedience  upon  men,  to  represent  it  to  them  as 
the  meriting  cause  of  salvation.  This  is  noi 
at  all  to  the  purpose,  seeing  that  without  it 
the  necessity  of  holiness  to  salvation  is  pres- 
sing enough  :  for  holiness  is  no  less  necessary 
to  salvation,  than  if  it  were  the  meriting  causo 
of  it ;  it  is  as  inseparably  tied  to  it  in  the 
purpose  of  God.  And  in  the  order  of  perform- 
ance, godliness  is  as  certainly  before  salva- 
tion as  if  salvation  did  wholly  and  altogether 
depend  upon  it,  and  were  in  point  of  justice 
deserved  by  it.  Seeing,  then,  there  is  no 
other  way  to  happiness  but  by  holiness,  no 
assurance  of  the  love  of  God  without  it.  take 
the  apostle's  advice;  study  it,  seek  it,  lollow 
earnestly  after  holiness,  without  which  no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord. 

Grace  unto  you  and  peace  he  multiplied. '\ 
It  hath  always  been  a  civil  custdm  among 
men,  lo  season  tlieir  intercouse  with  good 
wishes  one  for  another ;  this  the  apostles  use 
in  their  epistles  in  a  spiritual  divine  way, 
suitable  to  their  holy  writings.  It  well  be- 
comes the  messengers  of  ^race  and  peace,  lo 
wish  both,  and  to  make  tlieir  salutation  con- 
form to  the  main  scope  and  subject  of  their  dis- 
course. The  Hebrew  word  of  salutation  we 
have  here — Peace, and  that  which  is  the  spring 
both  of  this  and  all  good  things,  in  the  other 
W(jrd  of  salutation  used  by  the-Greeks — (Iruce. 
All  right  rejoicing  and  [irospenty,  and  liap[)i- 
ness,  flow  from  this  source,  and  from  this 
alone,  and  are  souglit  elsewhere  in  vain. 

In  general,  this  is  the  character  of  a  Chris- 
tian spirit  to  have  a  heart  filled  with  bles- 
sinir,  with  this  sweet  good-will  and  good- 
wishing  to  all,  especially  to  those  who  are 
their  brethren  in  the  siime  profession  of  re- 
ligion. And  this  charily  is  a  precious  balm, 
diffusing  itself  in  the  wise  and  seasonable 
exjiressions  of  it,  upon  fit  occasions  ;  and 
those  expressions  must  be  cordial  and  sincere, 
n»)i  like  what  you  call  court  holy-water,  in 
which  there  is  nothing  else  but  falsehood,  or 
vanity  at  the  best.  This  manifests  men  to 
be  the  sons  of  blessing,  and  of  the  ever-bles- 
sed God,  the  father  of  all  !)lessing,  when  in 
his  name  they  bless  one  another:  yea,  our 
Savior's  rule  goes  higher,  lo  hicss  those  that 
curse  them,  and  urges  it  by  that  relation  lo 
God  as  their  Father,  that  in  this  they  may 
resemble  him:  That  i/e  may  he  the  children 
of  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven.  . 

But  in  a  more  emineni  way  it  is  the  duty 
of  paslf)rs  tri  bless  tlieir  people,  not  only  by 
their  public  and  solemn  benediction,  but  by 
daily  and  instant  jjrayers  for  them  in  secret. 
And  the  great  Fiilhir.  who  seeth  in  secret, 
will  reward  them  openly. 

They  are  lo  be  ever  both  endeavoring  and 


78 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


wishing  th»'ir  increase  of  knowlcdire  and  all 
ppiritual  i^raci',  iu  which  ihuy  have  in  St. 
Paul  a  fri'ciuont  pattern. 

Tliiy  will)  arc  messtnigers  of  this  grace,  if 
they  have  cxpeiienct  of  it,  it  is  the  oil  of 
gladness  tiiai  will  dilate  their  heart,  and 
make  it  larg;e  in  love  and  spiiiiual  desires 
for  others,  especially  their  own  Hueks. 

Let  us  consider,  1.  The  mailer  of  the  apos- 
tle's desire  for  ihem — grace  and  peace.  2.  The 
measure  of  it — that  if  may  be  nniltijilicd . 

\st.  The  matter  of  the  apostle's  desire, 
Grace.  We  need  not  make  a  noise  with  the 
many  school-distinctions  of  grace,  and  de- 
scribe in  what  sense  it  is  here  to  be  taken: 
for  no  doubt  it  is  M-suvmg  grace  to  those 
(litipersed  brethren,  so  thai  ni  the  larf;est  no- 
tif'U  which  it  can  have  that  way,  we  may 
s?  fely  here  take  it. 

What  are  preventing  grace,  axsisli/tg 
gface,  working  and  co-ieorkmg  grace  (as  we 
n  ay  admit  these  differences  in  a  sound 
stase),  but  divers  names  of  the  same  elfec- 
lual  saving  grace,  in  relation  to  our  dilferent 
estate  ?  as  the  same  sea  receives  didVrcnt 
names  from  the  dilferent  parts  of  the  shore  it 
beats  upon.  First,  it  prevents  and  works  ; 
then  it  assists  and  prosecutes  what  it  hath 
wrought:  He  worketh  in  us  to  trill  and  to 
do.  But  the  whole  sense  of  saving  grace,  I 
conceive  is  comjirehended  in  these  two. 
1.  Grace  in  the  fouiiiain,  that  is,  tiie  peculiar 
love  and  favor  of  God.  2.  Grace  in  the 
streams,  the  fruits  of  this  love  (for  it  is  not 
unempiy,  but  a  most  rich  and  liberal  love), 
viz..  all  the  grace  and  spiritual  blessings  of 
God  bestowed  upon  them  whom  he  hath 
freely  chosen.  The  love  of  God  in  itself  can 
neither  diminish  nor  increase,  but  it  is  multi- 
plied, or  abounds  in  the  manifestation  and 
effects  of  it.  So  then,  to  desire  grace  to  be 
muliiplied  to  them,  is  to  wish  to  them  the 
living  spring  of  it,  that  love  which  can  not 
be  exhausted,  but  is  ever  flowing  forth,  and 
m:5tead  of  abating,  makes  each  day  richer 
than  the  preceding. 

And  this  is  that  which  should  be  the  top 
ard  sum  of  Christian  desires — to  have,  or 
want  any  other  thing  indifferently,  but  to  be 
resolved  and  resolute  in  this,  to  seek  a  share 
in  this  grace,  the  free  love  of  God,  and  the 
sure  evidences  of  it  within  you,  the  fruit  of 
holiness,  and  the  graces  of  his  S[)iril.  But 
the  most  of  us  are  otherwise  taken  up  :  we 
will  not  be  convinced  how  basely  and  fool- 
ishly wt'  are  busied,  though  in  the  best  and 
most  respected  employments  of  the  world, 
so  long  as  we  neglect,  our  noblest  trade  of 
growing  rich  in  grace,  and  the  comfortable 
enjoyment  of  the  love  of  God.  Our  Savior 
tells  us  of  one  thing  needful,  importing  that 
all  othir  things  are  comparatively  unneces- 
sary, by  works,  and  mere  imperiinencies  ; 
and  yet  in  these  we  lavish  out  our  short  and 
uncertain  time  ;  we  let  the  other  stand  by 
till  we  find  leisure.  Men,  who  are  altogether 
profane,  think  not  on  it  al  all.    Some  others 


I  possibly  deceive  themselves  thus,  and  say 
When  I  liave  done  wiin  sucli  a  business  in 
which  1  am  engaged,  then  1  will  sit  down 
seriously  to  this,  and  bestow  more  time  and 
pains  on  these  things,  which  are  undeniably 
greater  and  better,  and  more  worthy  of  it. 
But  this  is  a  slight  that  is  in  danger  to  undl 
us.  What  if  we  atiain  not  to  the  end  of  that 
business,  bui  end  ourselves  before  it  ?  Or 
if  we  do  not,  yei  some  other  business  may 
step  in  after  that.  Oh  then,  say  we,  that 
must  be  despatched  also.  Thus,  by  such  de- 
lays, we  may  lose  the  present  oi)portunity, 
and  in  the  end,  our  own  souls. 

Oh!  be  ])ersuaded  it  deserves  your  dili- 
gence, and  that  without  delay,  to  seek  somo 
what  that  may  be  consiant  enough  to  abide 
with  you,  and  strong  enough  to  uphold  you 
in  all. conditions,  and  ihat  is  alone  this  free 
'  grace  and  love  of  God.    While  many  say. 
Who  will  s/ioicus  any  good?  set  you  in  with 
David  in  his  choice.  Lord,  lift  thou  up  the 
light  of  thy  countenance  upon  mc,  and  this 
shall  rejoice  my  heart  more  than  the  abun- 
^  dunce  of  corn  aiid  wine.    Psalm  iv.  6,  7. 
j     This  is  that  light  which  can  break  into 
the  darkest  dungeons,  from  which  all  other 
lights  and  comforts  are  shut  out ;  and  wiih- 
oui  this,  all  other  enjoyments  are,  what  the 
world  would  be  without  the  sun,  nothing  but 
darkness.    Happy  they  who  have  this  light 
of  Divine  favor  and  grace  shining  into  their 
souls,  for  by  it  they  shall  be  led  to  that  ciiy, 
where  the  sun  and  moon  are  needless  ;  lor 
The  glory  of  God  doth  lighten  it,  and  the 
\  Lamh  is  the  light  thereof.    Rev,  xxi.  23. 
I     Godliness  is  profitable  for  all  things,  sailh 
]  the  apostle,  having  the  promises  of  this  life 
'and  that  ivhich  is  to  come;  all  other  bles- 
sings are  the  attendants  of  grace,  and  follow 
upon  it.    This  blessing  which  the  apf)stle 
I  here  (as  St.  Paul  also  in  his  Epistles)  joins 
!  with  grace,  was,  with  the  Jews,  of  so  large 
a  sense,  as  to  comprehend  all  that  they  could 
j  desire  ;  when  they  wished  peace,  they  meant 
'  all  kind  of  good,  all  welfare  and  prosjjcriiy. 
I  And  thus  we  may  take  it  here,  for  all  kind 
1  of  peace;  yea,  and  for  all  other  blessings, 
i  but  especially  that  spiritual  peace,  which  is 
the  proper  fruit  of  grace,  and  doth  so  intrin- 
sically flow  from  it. 

We  may  and  ought  to  wish  to  the  church 
of  God  outward  blessings,  and  particularly 
outward  peace,  as  one  of  the  greatest,  and 
one  of  the  most  valuable  favors  of  God  :  thus 
I)rayed  the  psalmist.  Peace  be  within  thy 
walls,  and  prosperity  uvthm  thy  palaces. 

That  Wisdom  which  doth  what  he  will, 
by  what  means  he  will,  and  works  one  con- 
trariety out  of  another,  brings  light  out  of 
darkness,  good  out  of  evil — can  and  doth 
turn  tears  and  troubles  to  the  advantage  of  his 
I  church  :  but  certainly,  in  itself,  peace  is  more 
I  suitable  to  its  increase,  and,  if  not  abused,  it 
I  proves  so  too.    Thus  in  the  apostolic  times, 
I  it  is  said.  Acts  ix.  31,  77/e  church  had  peace 
I  and  increased  exceedingly. 


Ver.  2.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


We  ought  also    -j  rvish  for  ecclesiastical 

fieace  to  the  ciiurch,  that  she  may  be  free 
rum  dissensions  and  divisions.  These  read- 
ily arise,  more  or  less,  as  we  see,  in  all  times, 
and  haunt  religion,  and  the  reformation  of"  it, 
as  a  malus  genius.  St.  Paul  had  this  to  say 
to  his  Corinthians,  1  Ep.  i.  5.  though  he  had 
given  them  this  testimony,  that  they  were 
enriched  in  all  utterance  and  knowledge,  and 
were  wanting  in  no  gift,  yet,  presently  after, 
ver.  13,  J  hear  that  there  are  divisions  and  con- 
tentions among  you.  Tlie  enemy  had  done 
this,  as  our  Savior  speaks ;  and  this  enemy 
is  no  fool,  for,  by  Divine  permission,  he  works 
to  his  own  end  very  wisely  ;  there  is  not  one 
thing  tiiat  doth  on  all  hands  choke  the  seed 
of  religion  so  much,  as  thorny  debates  and 
differences  about  itself  So,  in  succeeding 
ages,  and  at  the  breaking  forth  of  the  light 
in  Germany,  in  Luther's  time,  multitudes  of 
sects  arose. 

Profane  men  do  not  only  stumble,but  fall  and 
break  their  necks  upon  these  divisions.  We 
see,  (think  they,  and  some  of  them  possibly 
say  it  out), that  they  who  mind  religion  most, 
can  not  agree  upon  it:  our  easiest  way  is,  not 
to  embroil  ourselves,  not  at  all  to  be  troubled 
with  the  business.  Many  are  of  Gallio's 
temper  ;  they  will  care  for  none  of  those 
things.  Thus  these  offences  prove  a  mis- 
chief to  the  prol'ane  world,  as  our  Savior 
says.  Wo  to  the  world  because  of  offences. 

Then  those  on  the  erring  side,  who  are 
taken  with  new  opinions  and  fancies,  are  al- 
together taken  up  with  them,  their  main 
thoughts  are  spent  upon  them  ;  and  thus  the 
sap  is  drawn  from  that  which  should  nour- 
ish and  prosper  in  their  hearts,  sanctified  use- 
ful knowledge,  and  saving  grace.  The  other 
are  as  weeds,  which  divert  the  nourishment 
in  gardens  from  the  plants  and  flowers  ;  and 
certainly  these  weeds,  viz.,  men's  own  con- 
ceits, can  not  but  grow  more  with  them, 
w'len  they  give  way  to  them,  than  solid  re- 
lij;ion  doth  ;  for  their  hearts  (as  one  said  '>1' 
the  earth)  are  mother  to  those,  and  but  step- 
mother to  this. 

It  is  also  a  loss  even  to  those  that  oppose 
errors  and  divisions,  that  they  are  forced  to 
bf  busied  in  that  way  ;  for  the  wisest  and 
godliest  of  them  find  (and  such  are  sensible 
of  it)  that  disputes  in  religion  are  no  friends 
to  that  which  is  far  sweeter  in  it ;  but  hin- 
ders and  aljates  it,  viz.,  those  pious  and  de- 
vout thoughts,  that  are  both  the  more  useful 
and  truly  delighifiil. 

As  peace  is  a  choice  blessing,  so  this  is  the 
choicest  peace,  and  is  the  peculiar  insepara- 
ble effect  of  this  grace  witli  which  it  is  here 
jointly  wished — grace  and  peace  ;  the  flower 
of  peace  growing  upon  the  root  of  grace  ; 
This  spiriual  |)eace  hath  two  things  in  it. 
1.  Recoti<;iliaiion  with  God.  2.  Tranquillity 
of  spirit.  Thefjuarrcl  and  matter  of  enmity, 
you  know,  betwixt  God  and  man,  is  the  t('- 
bellion,  the  sin  of  man  ;  and  he  being  natur- 
lUy  allcgetlier  sinful,  there  can  proceed  noth- 
10 


ing  from  him,  but  what  foments  and  increas. 
es  the  hostility.  It  is  grace  alone,  the  most 
free  grace  of  God,  that  contrives,  and  offers, 
and  makes  the  peace,  else  it  had  never  been  ; 
we  had  universally  perished  without  it. 
Now  in  this  consists  the  wonder  of  Divine 
grace,  that  the  Almighty  God  seeks  agree- 
ment, and  entreats  for  it,  with  sinful  clay, 
which  he  could  wholly  destroy  in  a  moment. 

Jesus  Christ,  the  Mediator  and  purchaser 
of  this  peace,  bought  it  with  his  blood,  kill- 
ed the  enmity  by  his  own  death,  Eph.  ii.  15. 

I  And  therefore  the  tenor  of  it  in  the  gospel 
runs  still  in  his  name  (Rom.  v.  1) :  We  have 
peace  with  God  through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord  ;  and  St.  Paul  expresses  it  in  his  salu- 

1  tations,  which  are  the  same  with  this,  Grace 
and  -peace  from  God  the  Father,  and  our 

j  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

As  the  free  love  and  grace  of  God  appoint- 

[  ed  this  means  and  way  of  our  peace,  and  of- 
fered it — so  the  same  grace  applies  it,  and 
makes  it  ours,  and  gives  us  faith  to  ajipre- 

j  hend  it. 

And  from  our  sense  of  this  peace,  or  rec- 

i  oncilement  with  God,  arises  that  which  i^ 
our  inward  peace,  a  calm  and  quiet  temper 
of  mind.  This  peace  which  we  have  with 
God  in  Christ,  is  inviolable  ;  but  because  the 
sense  and  persuasion  of  it  may  be  interrupt- 
ed, the  soul  that  is  truly  at  peace  with  God 

!  may  for  a  time  be  disquieted  in  itself,  through 
weakness  of  faith,  or  the  strength  of  tempt- 
ation, or  the  darkness  of  desertion,  losing 
sight  of  that  grace,  that  love  and  li<jht  of 
God's  countenance,  on  which  its  traiH[uillity 
and  joy  depend.  Thou  didst  hide  thy  face, 
saith  David,  and  I  was  troubled.  But  when 
these  eclipses  are  over,  the  soul  is  revived 
with  new  consolation,  as  the  face  of  the 
earth  is  renewed  and  made  to  smile  with  the 
return  of  the  sun  in  the  spring ;  and  this 
ought  alway  to  uphold  Christians  in  the  sad- 
dest times,  viz.,  that  the  grace  and  love  of 

j  God  toward  them  depend  not  on  their  sense, 
nor  upon  anything  in  lliein,  but  is  still  in  it- 

j  self  incapable  of  the  smallest  alteration. 
It  is  natural  to  men  to  desire  their  own 
peace,  the  quietness  and  contentment  of  their 
minds:  bui  most  men  miss  the  way  to  it; 

I  and  therefore  find  it  not  ;  I'or  there  is  noway 
to  it,  indeed,  but  this  one,  wherein  few  seek 
it,  viz.,  reconcilement  and  peace  with  God. 

\  The  persuasion  of  that  alone  makes  the 
mind  clear  and  serene,  like  your  fairest  sum- 
mer days.  My  peace  T give  you,  saith  Christ, 
not  as  the  world.  Let  not  your  hearts  he 
troubled.  All  the  peace  and  favor  of  the 
world  can  not  calm  a  troubled  heart  ;  but 
where  this  peace  is  which  Christ  gives,  ah 
the  trouble  and  disquiet  of  the  world  can  not 
ilisturb  it.  When  he  i^ivrth  (/in'rtness,  who 
then  can  make  trouble  ?  anil  irhen  he  hideth 
his  face,  vdto  then  ran  behold  him  ?  wJiether  it 
be  done  airainsi  a  nation  or  a>;^ainst  a  man 
only.  (See  also  for  ihis,  Psaliris  xl  vi.,  cxxiii.) 
All  outward  distress  to  a  mind  thus  at  peace, 


74 


A.  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  1 


IS  but  as  the  rattlinn;  of  th»  hail  upon  the  I 
tiles,  to  liiru  that  sits  within  the  house  at  a 
sumptuous  feast.  A  good  conscience  is  styl- 
ed a  feast,  and  with  an  advantage  which  no 
other  least  can  have,  nor,  were  it  possible, 
C(3\jld  men  endure  it.  A  few  hours  of  feast- 
ing will  weary  tiie  most  professed  epicure; 
but  a  conscience  thus  at  peace,  is  a  cnnlm- 
ual  friist,  with  continual  unwearied  delight. 
What  makes  the  world  take  up  such  a  preju- 
dice against  religion  as  a  sour  unpleasant 
thing  ?  They  see  the  afflictions  and  griefs 
of  Christians,  hut  they  do  n  jt  see  their  joys, 
the  inward  pleasure  of  mind  that  they  can 
l)ossess  in  a  very  hard  estate.  Have  you  not 
tried  other  ways  enough  ?  Hath  not  he  tried 
them  who  had  more  ability  and  skill  for  it 
than  you,  and  found  them  not  only  raniti/h\it 
veialion  of  spirit  ?  If  you  have  any  belief 
of  holy  truth,  put  but  this  once  upon  the  tri- 
al, seek  peace  in  the  way  of  grace.  This 
inward  peace  is  too  precious  a  liquor  to  be 
poured  into  a  filthy  vessel.  A  holy  heart, 
that  gladly  entertains  grace,  shall  find  that 
it  and  peace  can  not  dwell  asunder. 

An  ungodly  man  may  sleep  to  death  in  the 
lethargy  of  carnal  presumption  and  impeni- 
tency  ;  but  a  true,  lively,  solid  peace,  he  can 
not  have.  There  is  no  peace  to  the  wicked, 
saith  my  God,  Isa.  Ivii.  21.  And  if  he  say 
there  is  none,  speak  peace  who  will,  if  al. 
the  world  with  one  voice  should  speak  it,  it 
shall  prove  none. 

2dly.  Consider  the  measure  of  the  apos- 
tle's desire  for  his  scattered  brethren,  that 
this  grace  and  peace  may  be  7nultip]icd. 
This  the  apostle  wishes  for  them,  knowing 
the  imperfection  of  the  graces  and  peace  of 
the  saints  while  they  are  here  below  ;  and 
this  they  themselves,  under  a  sense  of  that 
imperfection,  ardently  desire.  They  that 
have  tasted  the  sweetness  of  this  grace  and 
peace,  call  incessantly  for  more.  This  is  a 
disease  in  earthly  desires,  and  a  disease  in- 
curable by  all  the  things  desired;  there  is  no 
satisfaction  attainable  by  them  ;  but  this  av- 
arice of  spiritual  thinnfs  is  a  virtue,  and  by 
our  Savior  is  called  blessedness,  because  it 
tends  to  fulness  and  satisfaction.  Blessed 
are  they  that  hunger  and  thirst  after  right- 
eousness, for  they  shall  he  filled. 

Ver.  3.  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  who  according  to  his.  abundant  mer- 
cy, hath  begotten  us  again  unto  a  lively  hope,  by 
the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  from  the  dead. 

Ver.  4.  To  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  and  unde- 
filed,  and  that  iadeth  not  away. 

It  is  a  cold  lifeless  thing  to  speak  of  spiritual 
things  upon  mere  report:  but  they  that  speak 
of  liiem  as  their  own,  as  having  share  and 
interest  in  them,  and  some  experience  of 
their  sweetness,  their  discourse  of  them  is 
enlivened  with  firm  belief,  and  ardent  affec- 
tion ;  they  can  not  mention  them,  but  their 
hearts  are  straight  taken  with  such  gladness, 
as  they  are  forced  to  vent  in  praises.  Thus 
our  apostit*  here,  and  St.  Paul,  and  often 


elsewhere,  when  they  considered  these  things 
wherewith  they  were  about  to  comfort  the 
godlj  to  whom  they  wrote,  they  were  suJ 
denly  elevated  with  the  joy  of  them,  an 
broke  forth  into  thanksaiving :  so  teaching 
us,  by  their  examjile,  what  real  joy  there  i? 
in  the  consolations  of  the  Gospel,  and  what 
praise  is  due  from  all  the  saints  to  the  God 
of  those  consolations.  This  is  such  an  in- 
heritance, that  the  very  thoughts  and  hopea" 
of  it  are  able  to  sweeten  the  greatest  grief 
and  afflictions.  What  then  shall  the  posses- 
sion of  it  be.  wherein  there  shall  be  no  rup- 
ture, nor  the  >ast  drop  of  any  grief  at  all? 
The  main  subject  of  these  verses  is,  that 
Avhich  is  the  main  comfort  that  supports  the 
spirits  of  the  godly  in  all  condiiions. 

1.  Their  after  inheritance,  as  in  the  4th 
verse.  2dly,  Their  present  title  to  it,  ani 
assured  hope  of  it,  ver.  3.  3dly,  The  imme' 
diate  cause  of  both  assigned,  viz.,  Jesus  Christ. 
4tlily,  All  this  derived  from  the  free  mercy 
of  God,  as  the  first  and  highest  cause,  and 
returned  to  his  praise  and  glory  as  the  last 
and  highest  end  of  it. 

For  the  frst  :  The  inheritance.  [But  be- 
cause the  4th  verse,  which  describes  it,  is 
linked  with  the  subsequent,  we  will  not  go 
so  far  off  to  return  back  again,  but  first  speak 
to  this  3d  verse,  and  in  it.] 

Consider  1.  Their  title  to  this  inheritance 
begotten  again  ;  2.  Their  assurance  of  it, 
viz.,  a  holt)  or  lively  hope. 

The  title  which  the  saints  have  to  their 
rich  inheritance  is  of  the  validest  and  most 
unquestionable  kind,  viz.,  by  birth.  Not  by 
their  first  natural  birth  ;  but  that  we  are  all 
born  indeed,  but  we  find  what  it  is  (Ephes. 
ii.  3),  children  of  wrath,  heirs  apparent  of 
eternal  flames.  It  is  an  everlasting  inherit- 
ance too,  but  so  much  the  more  fearful,  be- 
ing of  everlasting  misery,  or  (.so  to  speak) 
of  immortal  death  ;  and  we  are  made  sure  to 
it,  they  who  remain  in  that  condition  can 
not  lose  their  right,  although  they  gladly 
would  escape  it  ;  they  shall  he  forced  to  en- 
ter possession.  But  it  is  by  a'new  and  super- 
natural birth  that  men  are  both  freed  from 
their  engagement  to  that  woful  inheritance, 
and  invested  into  the  rights  of  this  other 
here  mentioned,  which  is  as  full  of  happi- 
ness as  the  former  is  miserable:  therefore 
are  they  said  here  to  be  begotten  again  tc 
that  lively  hope.  God,  the  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  hath  begotten  us  again. 
And  thus  the  regenerate  are  the  children  of 
an  iinmortal  Father,  and,  as  such,  entitled 
to  an  inheritance  of  immortality.  Jf  chil 
dren,  then  heirs,  heirs  of  God  ;  and  this  son 
ship  is  by  adoption  in  Christ  ;  therefore  it  iss 
added.  Joint  heirs  with  Christ,  Rom.  viii.  17. 
We  adopted  children,  and  he  the  only  begot- 
ten Son  of  God  by  an  eternal,  ineffable  gen- 
eration. 

And  yet,  this  our  adoption  is  not  a  mere 
extrinsical  denotnination,  as  is  adoption 
among  men  ;  but  is  accompanied  with  a  real 


Ver.  3,  4.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


change  in  those  that  are  adopted,  a  new  na- 
ture and  spirit  being  infused  into  them,  by 
reason  of  which,  as  they  are  adopted  to  this 
their  inheritance  in  Christ,  they  are  likewise 
begotten  of  God,  and  bom  again  to  it,  by  the 
supernatural  work  of  regeneration.  They 
are  like  their  heavenly  Father  ;  they  have 
his  image  renewed  on  their  souls,  and  their 
Father's  spirit:  they  have  it,  and  are  actua- 
ted and  led  by  it.  This  is  that  great  mystery 
of  the  kingdom  of  God  which  puzzled  Nico- 
demus ;  it  was  darkness  to  him  at  first,  till 
he  was  instructed  in  that  night,  under  the 
covert  whereof  he  came  to  Christ. 

Nature  can  not  conceive  of  any  generation 
or  birth,  but  that  which  is  within  its  own 
compass:  only  they  who  are  partakers  of 
this  spiritual  birth  understand  what  it  means  ; 
to  otiiers  It  is  a  riddle,  an  unsavory,  unpleas- 
ant subject. 

It  is  sometimes  ascribed  to  the  subordinate 
means ; — to  baptism,  called  therefore  the 
laver  of  regeneration,  Titus  iii.  5;  to  the 
word  of  God,  James  i.  18  ;  it  is  that  immor- 
tal seed,  whereby  we  are  born  again  :  to  the 
ministers  of  his  word,  and  the  seals  of  it,  as 
I  Cor.  iv.  15.  For  thoui^h  you  have  ten 
thousand  inslructers  in  Christ,  yi.t  have  ye 
not  many  fathers  ;  for  in  Christ  Jesua  have  I 
begotten  you  through  the  gospel ;  as  also  Gal.  { 
iv.  19.  But  all  these  means  have  their  vigor 
and  efficacy  in  this  great  work  from  the 
Father  of  spirits,  who  is  their  Father  in  their 
first  creation,  and  infusion,  and  in  this  their 
regeneration,  which  is  a  new  and  second  cre- 
ation. If  aatj  man  be  in  Christ  he  is  a  new 
creature,  2  Cor.  v.  17. 

Divines  have  reason  to  infer  from  the  na- 
ture of  conversion  thus  ex[)ressed,  that  man 
doth  not  bring  anything  to  this  work  him- 
self It  is  true  he  hath  a  will,  as  his  natural 
faculty  ;  but  that  this  will  embraces  the  offer 
of  grace,  and  turns  to  him  that  offers  it,  is 
from  renewing  grace,  which  sweetly  and  yet 
strongly,  strongly  yet  sweetly,  inclines  it. 

1.  Nature  can  not  raise  itself  to  this  any 
more  than  a  man  can  give  natural  being  to 
himself.  2.  It  is  not  a  superficial  change  ; 
it  is  a  new  life  and  being.  A  moral  man  in 
his  changes  and  reformations  of  himself,  is 
still  the  same  man.  Tiiough  he  reform  so 
far,  as  that  men,  in  their  ordinary  phrase, 
shall  call  iiim  (|uite  another  man,  yet,  in 
truth,  till  he  be  born  again,  there  is  no  new 
nature  in  him.  The  sluggard  turns  on  his 
bed  as  the  door  on  the  hinges,  says  Solomon. 
Thus  the  natural  man  turns  from  one  custom 
and  posture  to  another,  but  never  turns  off. 
But  the  Christian,  by  virtue  of  this  new  birth, 
can  say  indeed.  Ego  non  sum  ego,  I  am  not 
the  same  man  I  was. 

You  that  arc  nobles,  aspire  to  this  honora- 
ble condition  ;  add  this  nobleness  to  the  other, 
for  it  far  sur{)asses  it ;  make  it  the  crown  of 
all  your  honors  and  advantages.  And  you 
that  are  of  mean  birth,  or  if  you  have  any 
stain  on  your  birtii,  the  only  way  to  make  up 


and  repair  all,  and  truly  to  ennoble  you,  la 
this — to  be  the  sons  of  a  king,  yea,  of  the 
king  of  kings,  and  this  honor  have  all  his 
saints.  To  as  many  as  received  him,  he  gave 
this  privilege  to  be  the  sons  of  God,  John  i.  12. 

Unto  a  lively  nope.]  Noiv  are  we  the  sons 
of  God,  saith  the  apostle  (1  John  iii.  2),  b^jt 
it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be.  These 
sons  are  heirs,  but  all  this  lifetime  is  their 
minority;  yet,  even  now,  heing  partakers  of 
this  new  birth  and  sonship,  they  have  a  right 
to  it,  and  in  the  assurance  of  that  right,  this 
living  hope  ;  as  an  heir,  when  he  is  capable 
of  those  thoughts,  hath  not  only  right  of  in- 
heritance, but  may  rejoice  in  the  hope  he 
hath  of  it,  and  please  himself  in  thinking  of 
it.  But  hope  is  said  to  be  only  in  respect  of  an 
uncertain  good  :  true,  in  the  world's  phrase, 
it  is  so  ;  for  their  hope  is  conversant  in  uncer- 
tain things,  or  in  things  that  may  be  certain, 
after  an  uncertain  manner  ;  all  their  worldly 
hopes  are  tottering,  built  upon  sand,  and  ilieir 
hopes  of  heaven  are  but  blind  and  ground- 
less conjectures  ;  but  the  hope  of  the  sons  of 
the  living  God  is  a  living  ho])e.  That  which 
Alexander  said  when  he  dealt  liberally  about 
him,  that  he  I'ft  hope  to  himself,  the  children 
of  God  may  more  wisely  and  happilv  say, 
when  they  leave  the  hot  i)uri^uit  of  the  World 
to  others,  and  despise  it ;  their  j)ortion  is 
iiope.  The  thread  of  Alexander's  life  waa 
cut  off  in  the  midst  of  his  victories,  and  so 
ail  liis  hopes  vanished  :  but  their  hope  can 
not  die  nor  disappoint  them. 

But  then  it  is  said  to  be  lively  not  only  ob- 
jectivehj  hut  rffpctivch/  ;  enlivening  and  com- 
forting the  children  of  God  in  all  distresses, 
enabling  them  to  encounter  and  surmount  all 
difficulties  in  the  way.  And  then  it  is  for- 
mally so  ;  it  can  not  fail — dies  not  before  ac- 
complishment. Worldly  hopes  often  mock 
men,  and  so  cause  them  to  be  ashamed  ;  and 
I  men  take  it  as  a  great  blot,  and  are  most  of 
all  ashamed  of  those  things  that  discover 
'  weakness  of  judgment  in  them.  Now  wcjrldly 
,  hopes  do  thus — they  put  the  fool  upon  a  man  : 
when  he  haili  judged  himself  sure,  and  laid 
so  much  weight  and  expectation  on  them, 
then  they  break  and  foil  him:  tliey  are  not 
living,  but  lying  hopes,  and  dying  hopes; 
they  die  often  before  us,  and  we  live  to  bury 
them,  and  see  our  own  folly  and  infelicity  in 
trusting  to  them  ;  but  at  the  utmost,  they  die 
with  Us  when  we  die,  and  can  accompany  us 
no  further.  But  this  hcj])e  answers  cxpi'cta- 
tion  to  the  full,  and  much  beyond  it,  and  de- 
ceives no  way  but  in  that  happy  way  of  far 
exceeding  it. 

A  living  hope — living  in  death  itself !  The 
world  dares  say  no  more  for  its  device,  than 
\  Dum  spiro  spero  ;  but  the  children  of  God 
can  add  by  virtue  of  this  living  hope,  Diun 
ex.'ipiro  spero.  It  is  a  fearfu.  ibing  when  a 
man  and  all  his  hopes  die  together.  Thus 
saith  Solomon  of  the  wicked,  Prov.  xi.  7  : 
When  he  dieth,  then  die  his  hopes  (many 
of  them  before,  but  at  the  utmost  then,  all  of 


7« 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LChap.  1. 


them) ;  but  (he  ri<rhteo7ts  hath  hope  in  his 
death,  Priiv.  xiv.  "^2.  Death,  which  cuts  the 
sinews  of  all  odier  hoi)es,  and  turns  men  out 
of  aii  other  iuheriiances,  alone  fulfils  this 
hope,  and  ends  it  in  fruition  ;  as  a  messenger 
lent  to  brin<r  liie  children  of  God  home  to 
he  possession  of  their  inheritance. 

By  the  7  esinrecl  ion  of  Jesus  Christ  from 
he  dead.]  This  refers  both  to  begotten  again 
Dy  his  resurrection,  and  having  this  living 
hope  by  his  resurrection:  and  well  suits  both, 
it  being  the  proper  cause  of  both  in  this  or- 
der. First,  then,  of  the  birth  ;  next,  of  the 
hope. 

The  image  of  God  is  renewed  in  us  by  our 
union  with  Him  who  is  the  express  image  of 
his  Father's  person,  Heb.  i.  3.  Therefore 
this  new  birth  in  the  conception,  is  express- 
ed by  the  forming  of  Christ  in  the  soul.  Gal. 
iv.  19  ;  and  his  resurrection  particularly  is 
assigned  as  the  cause  of  our  new  life.  This 
new  birth  is  called  our  resui-rection,  and  that 
in  conformity  to  Christ,  yea,  by  the  virtue 
and  influence  of  his.  His  resurrection  is 
called  a  birth,  he  the  first  begotten  from  the 
dead.  Rev.  i.  5  ;  and  that  prophecy,  Thou  art 
my  Son,  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee,  Psal. 
ii.  7,  is  applied  to  his  resurrection  as  fulfilled 
in  it,  Acts  j-iii.  33.  God  hath  fulfilled  the 
same  unto  us  their  children,  in  that  he  hath 
raised  up  Jesus  again  ;  as  it  is  also  leritten 
in  the  second  Psalm,  Thou  art  my  Son,  this 
day  have  I  begotten  thee.  Not  only  is  it  the 
exemplar,  but  the  efficient  cause  of  our  new 
birth.  Thus,  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  Ro- 
mans, at  large,  and  often  elsewhere. 

And  thus  likewise  it  is  the  cause  of  our 
living  hope — that  which  indeed  inspires  and 
maintains  life  in  it.  Because  he  hath  con- 
quered dea.h,  and  is  risen  again,  and  that  is 
implied  which  followeth,  he  is  set  dmen  at 
the  right  hand  of  God,  hath  entered  into  pos- 
session of  that  inheritance  ; — this  gives  us  a 
living  hope,  that,  according  to  his  own  re- 
quest, where  he  is  there  we  may  be  also.  Thus 
this  hope  is  strongly  underset,  on  the  one 
side,  by  the  resurrection  of  Christ ;  on  the 
other,  by  the  abundant  mercy  of  God  the 
Father.  Our  hope  depends  not  on  our  own 
strength  or  wisdom,  nor  on  anything  in  us 
(for  if  it  did,  it  would  be  short-lived,  would 
die,  and  die  quickly)  ;  but  on  his  resurrection 
"who  can  die  no  more  :  for  in  that  he  died,  he 
died  unto  sin  once  ;  but  in  that  he  livcth,  he 
liveth  unto  God,  Rom.  vi.  10.  This  makes 
this  hope  not  to  imply,  in  the  notion  of  it, 
uncertainty,  as  worldly  hopes  do ;  but  it  is  a 
firm,  stable,  inviolable  hope,  an  anchor  fixed 
within  the  veil. 

According  to  his  abundant  mercy.]  Mercy 
is  the  spring  of  all  this;  yea,  great  mercy, 
and  manifold  mercy:  "for,"  as  St.  Bernard 
saith,  "great  sins  and  great  miseries  need 
great  mercy,  and  many  sins  and  miseries 
need  many  mercies."  And  is  not  this  great 
mercy,  to  make  of  Satan's  slaves,  sons  of  the 
most  High?     Well  may  the  apostle  say. 


Behold  what  manner  of  love,  and  how  great 
love  the  Father  hath  showed  us,  thai  we  should 
be  called  the  sons  of  God  ! — The  world  knowti 
us  not  because  it  knew  not  him.  They  thai 
have  not  seen  the  father  of  a  child  can  not 
know  that  it  resembles  him  :  thus  the  world 
knows  not  God,  and  therefore  discerns  not 
his  image  in  his  children  so  as  to  esteem 
them  for  it.  But  whatever  be  their  opinion, 
this- we  must  say  ourselves.  Behold  what 
manner  of  love  is  this !  to  take  firebrands  of 
hell,  and  to  apj)oint  them  to  be  one  day 
brighter  than  the  sun  in  the  firmament  ;  to 
raise  the  poor  out  of  the  dunghill,  and  set 
them  v:ith  princes.  Psalm  cxiii.  7,  8. 

Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.]  Here,  lastly,  we  see  it  stirs  up 
the  apostle  to  praise  the  God  and  Father  o.'' 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  This  is  the  style  of 
the  gospel — as  formerly,  under  the  law,  it 
was  the  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob, 
and  the  God  that  brought  thee  up  out  of  the 
land  of  Egypt,  Sec.  This  now  is  the  order 
of  the  government  of  grace,  that  it  holds 
first  with  Christ  our  Head  and  in  him  with 
us.  So  he  says,  I  go  to  my  Father  and  your 
Father,  and  my  God  and  your  God  ;  which, 
as  St.  Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  in  his  Catechism, 
observes,  shows  us  not  only  our  communion 
with  him — that  might  have  been  expressed 
thus,  I  go  to  my  God  and  Father — but  the 
order  of  the  covenant,  first  my  Father  and 
my  God,  and  then  yours.  Thus  ought  we, 
in  our  consideration  of  the  mercies  of  God, 
still  to  take  in  Christ,  for  in  him  they  are  con- 
veyed to  us:  thus  (Eph.  i.  3),  With  all  spirit- 
ual blessings  in  Christ  Jesus. 

Blessed.]  lie  blesseth  us  really :  henefacx- 
endo  benedicit.  We  bless  him  by  acknowl- 
edging his  goodness.  And  this  we  ought  to 
do  at  all  times,  Psal.  xxxiv.  1 :  I  will  bless 
the  Lord  at  all  times,  his  praise  shall  contin- 
ually be  in  my  mouth.  All  this  is  far  below 
him  and  his  mercies.  What  are  our  lame 
praises  in  comparison  of  his  love  ?  Nothing, 
and  less  than  nothing  ;  but  love  will  stam- 
mer, rather  than  be  dumb.  They  who  are 
among  his  children  begotten  a^ain,  have,  in 
the  resurrection  of  Christ,  a  lively  hope  ol 
glory :  as  it  is.  Col.  i.  27,  Which  is  Christ  in 
you,  the  hope  of  glory.  This  leads  them  to 
observe  and  admire  tnat  rich  mercy  whence 
ii  flows  ;  and  this  consideration  awakes  them, 
and  constrains  them  to  break  forth  inio 
praises. 

To  an  inheritance  incorruptible.]  As  he  that 
taketh  away  a  garment  in  cold  weather,  and 
as  vinegar  upon  nitre,  so  is  he  that  singeth 
songs  to  a  heavy  heart.  Prov.  xxv.  20. 
Worldly  mirth  is  so  far  from  curing  spiritual 
grief,  that  even  worldly  grief,  where  it  is 
great  and  takes  deep  root,  is  not  allayed  but 
increased  by  it.  A  man  who  is  full  of  in- 
ward heaviness,  the  more  he  is  encompassed 
about  with  mirth,  it  exasperates  and  enrages 
his  grief  the  monj ;  like  ineffectual  weak 
physic,  whic,    reruoves  not  the  humor,  bu 


Vek.  3,  4.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


77 


stirs  it  and  makes  it  more  unquiet  ;  but  spir- 
itual joy  is  seasonable  for  all  estates  :  in  pros- 
perity, it  is  pertinent  to  crown  and  sanctify 
all  other  eiijoymems,  with  this  which  so  far 
surpasses  them  ;  and  in  distress,  it  is  the  only 
Nepenthe,  the  cordial  of  fainting  spirits:  so, 
Psal.  iv.  7,  He  hath  put  joy  into  my  heart. 
This  mirth  makes  way  for  itself,  which  other 
mirth  can  not  do.  These  songs  are  sweetest 
yn  the  night  of  distress.  Therefore  the  apos- 
tle, writing  to  his  scattered  afflicted  brethren, 
begins  his  epistle  with  this  song  of  praise, 
Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father^  our  Lord 
lesus  Christ. 

The  matter  of  this  joy  is,  the  joyful  re- 
membrance of  the  happiness  laid  up  for  them, 
under  the  name  oi  inheritance.   Now  this  in- 
heritance is  described  by  the  singular  quali- 
ties of  it,  viz.,  1.  The  excellency  of  its  na- 
ture :  2.  The  certainty  of  its  atiainment.  ' 
The  former  is  conveyed  in  these  three,  incor- 
ruptible, undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away  ;  \ 
the  latter,  in  the  last  words  of  this  verse  and  | 
in  the  verse  following :  Reserved  in  heaven  j 
for  you,  &C.  I 

God  is  bountiful  to  all — gives  to  all  men  all  I 
thai  they  have,  health,  riches,  honor,  strength, 
beauty,  and  wit ;  but  these  things  he  scatters  : 
(as  it  were)  with  an  indifferent  hand.  Upon  ; 
others  he  looks  as  well  as  upon  his  beloved  , 
children  ;  but  the  inheritance  is  peculiarly  ! 
theirs.  Inheritance  is  convertible  with  son-  j 
ship  :  Abraham  gave  gifts  to  Keturah's  sons, 
and  dismissed  them,  Gen.  xxv.  5 ;  but  the  in- 
heritance was  for  the  Son  of  the  Promise. 
When  we  see  a  man  rising  in  preferment  or 
estate,  or  admired  for  excellent  gifts  and  en-  [ 
dowments  of  mind,  we  think  there  is  a  happv 
man  :  but  we  consider  not  that  none  of  all 
those  things  are  matter  of  inheritance  ;  with- 
in awhile  he  is  to  be  turned  out  of  ail,  and  if 
he  have  not  somewhat  beyond  all  those  to 
look  to,  he  is  but  a  miserable  man,  and  so 
much  the  more  miserable,  that  once  he  seem- 
ed and  was  reputed  happy.  There  is  a  cer- 
tain time  wherein  heirs  come  to  possess : 
thus  it  is  with  this  inheritance  too.  There 
is  mention  made  by  the  apostle  of  a  perfect 
man — :into  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  th  - 
fulness  of  Christ,  Eph.  iv.  13.  And  though 
the  inheritance  is  rich  and  honorable,  yet  the 
heir,  being  young,  is  held  under  discipline, 
and  is  more  strictly  dealt  with,  possibly,  than 
the  servants  —  sharply  corrected  for  that 
which  is  let  pass  in  them ;  but  still,  even 
.hen,  in  regard  of  that  which  he  is  born  to, 
nis  condition  is  much  better  than  theirs,  and 
ail  the  correction  he  suffers  prejudices  him 
not,  but  fit^i  him  for  inheriting.  The  love  of 
our  heavenly  Father  is  beyond  the  love  of 
mothers  in  tenderness,  and  yet  beyond  the 
love  of  fathers  (who  are  usually  said  to  love 
more  wisely)  in  point  of  wisdom.  He  will 
not  und(j  his  children,  his  heirs,  with  too 
much  indulgence.  It  is  one  of  his  heavy 
judgments  upon  the  foolish  children  of  diso- 
bedience, that  Ease  shall  slay  them,  and  their 
prosperity  shall  j-rove  their  destruction. 


While  the  children  of  God  art  childish 
and  weak  in  faith,  they  are  like  some  great 
heirs  before  they  come  to  years  of  under- 
standing :  they  consider  not  their  inheritance, 
and  what  they  are  to  come  to,  have  not  tlieir 
spirits  elevated  to  thoughts  worthy  of  their 
estate,  and  their  behavior  conformed  to  it ; 
but  as  they  grow  up  in  years,  they  come  by 
little  and  little,  to  be  sensible  of  those  things, 
and  the  nearer  they  come  to  possession,  the 
more  apprehensive  they  are  of  their  quality, 
and  of  what  doth  answerably  become  them 
to  do.  And  this  is  the  duty  of  such  as  are 
indeed  heirs  of  glory  ; — to  grow  in  the  un- 
derstanding and  consideration  of  that  which 
is  prepared  for  them,  and  to  suit  themselves, 
as  they  are  able,  to  those  great  hopes.  This 
is  what  the  apostle  St.  Paul  prays  for,  on 
behalf  of  his  Ephesians,  chap.  i.  18.  The 
eyes  of  your  understanding  being  enlighten- 
ed, that  ye  mav  {•■"lic  what  is  the  hope  of  his 
calling,  and  what  the  riches  of  the  glory  of 
his  inheritance  in  the  Saints.  This  would 
make  them  holy  and  heavenly,  to  have  their 
conversation  in  heaven,  from  whence  they 
look  for  a  Savior.  That  we  may,  then,  the 
better  know  somewhat  of  the  dignity  and 
riches  of  this  inheritance,  let  us  consider  the 
description  which  is  here  given  us  of  it.  And, 
first,  it  is 

Incorruptible.]  Although  this  seems  to  be 
much  the  same  with  the  third  quality,  that 
fadeth  not  away  (which  is  a  borrowed  ex- 
pression for  the  illustrating  of  its  incorrupti- 
bleness),  yet,  [  conceive  that  there  is  some 
difference,  and  that  in  these  three  qualities 
there  is  a  gradation.  Thus  it  is  called  incor- 
ruptible ;  that  is,  it  perisheth  iKjt,  can  not 
come  to  nothing,  is  an  estate  that  can  not  be 
spent;  but  though  it  were  abiding,  yet  it 
might  be  such  as  that  the  continuance  of  it 
were  not  very  desirable;  it  would  be  but  a 
misery  at  best,  to  continue  always  in  this  life. 
Plotinus  thanked  God  that  his  soul  was  not 
tied  to  an  immortal  body.  Then,  undefiled , 
it  is  not  stained  with  the  least  spot :  this  sig- 
nifies the  purity  and  perfection  of  it,  as  that 
the  perpetuity  of  it.  It  doth  not  only  abide, 
and  is  j.'ure,  but  both  together,  it  a!iide  h  al- 
ways in  its  integrity.  And  lastly,  it.  fadeth 
not  away  ;  it  doth  not  fade  nor  wither  at  all, 
is  not  sometimes  more,  sometimes  less  pleas- 
ant, but  ever  the  same,  still  like  itself;  and 
this  constitutes  the  immutability  of  it. 

As  it  is  incorruptible,  it  carries  away  the 
palm  from  all  eartnly  possessions  and  inher- 
itances ;  for  all  those  epithets  are  intended 
to  signify  its  opposition  to  the  things  of  this 
world,  and  to  show  how  far  it  excels  them 
all ;  and  in  this  comparative  light  we  are  to 
consider  it.  For  as  divines  say  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  God  which  we  have  here,  that  the 
negative  notion  makes  up  a  great  \y.\T\.  of  it — • 
we  know  rather  what  he  is  no'  than  what 
he  is,  infinite,  incomprehensible,  iniiniitable, 
&c. ;  so  it  is  of  this  happiness,  this  inheri- 
tance;  and  indeed  it  is  no  other  than  God. 
We  can  not  tell  you  what  it  is,  but  we  can 


78 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


Ri\y  S()  far  what  it  is  n<it.  as  declares  it  is  un- 
sp>'akably  almvi-  all  the  must  excelliMU  thinajs 
yf  tl>t>  inlVrior  world  and  this  present  life. 
It  is  liy  privatives,  by  roiimviiii;  iin])erf('ctions 
from  it,  that  we  describe  it,  and  we  can  go 
no  farther  than  this — Incorruptible,  undcjiled, 
and  I  hilt  f'ulcth  not  awaij. 

All  thinijs  that  we  see,  being- compounded, 
may  be  dissolved  again.  The  very  visible 
heavens,  which  are  the  purest  piece  of  the 
material  world  (notwithstanding  the  pains 
the  philosopher  takes  to  exempt  them),  the 
Scriptures  teach  us  that  they  are  corruptible, 
Psal.  cii.  -iQ.  They  shall  perish,  but  thou 
shall  endure  ;  yea,  all  of  them  shall  wax  old 
like  a  garment ;  as  a  vesture  shall  thou 
change  thcni,  and  they  shall  be  changed.  And 
from  thence  the  apostle  to  the  Hebrews,  ch. 
i.  10,  and  our  apostle,  in  his  other  epis- 
tle, eh.  iii.  11,  use  the  same  expression. 
But  it  is  needless  to  fetch  too  great  a  compass, 
to  evince  the  corruptibleness  of  all  inheri- 
tances. Besides  what  they  are  in  them- 
selves, it  is  a  shorter  way  to  prove  them  cor- 
ruptible in  relation  to  us  and  our  possessing 
them,  by  our  own  corruptibleness  and  cor- 
ruption, or  jierishing  out  of  this  life  in  which 
we  enjoy  them.  We  are  here  tnter  pcritura 
perituri ;  the  things  are  passing  which  we 
enjoy,  and  we  are  passing  who  enjoy  them. 
An  earthly  inheritance  is  so  called  in  regard 
of  succession  ;  but  to  every  one  it  is  at  the 
most  but  for  term  of  life.  As  one  of  the 
kings  of  Spain  replied  to  one  of  his  courtiers, 
who,  thinking  to  please  his  master,  wished 
thai  kings  were  immortal;  If  thai  had  been, 
said  he,  I  should  never  have  been  ling. 
When  death  comes  that  removes  a  man  out 
of  all  his  possessions  to  give  place  to  another  ; 
therefore  are  these  inheritances  decaying  and 
dying  in  relation  tons,  because  we  decay  and 
die  ;  and  when  a  man  dies,  his  inheritances 
and  honors,  and  all  things  here,  are  at  an 
end,  in  respect  of  him  ;  yea,  we  may  say  the 
world  ends  to  him.  • 

Thus  Solomon  reasons,  that  a  man's  hap- 
piness can  not  be  upon  this  earth  ;  because 
it  must  be  some  durable,  abiding  thing  that 
must  make  him  happy — abiding,  to  wit,  in 
liis  enjoyment.  Now,  though  the  earth  abide, 
yet,  because  man  abides  not  on  the  earth  to 
possess  it,  but  one  age  drives  out  another, 
one  generation  passeth,  and  another  cometh, 
velut  unda  impellitur  un^n.  therefore,  his  rest 
andTiis  happiness  can  not  be  here. 

Undef  led.]  All  possessions  here  are  defiled 
and  stained  with  many  other  defects  and 
failings — still  somewhat  wanting,  some  damp 
on  them  or  crack  in  them  ;  fair  houses,  hut 
sad  cares  flying  about  the  gilded  and  ceiled 
loofs  ;  stately  and  soft  beds,  and  a  full  table, 
but  a  sickly  body  and  queasy  stomach.  As 
the  fairest  face  has  some  mole  or  wart  in  it, 
so  all  possessions  are  stained  with  sin,  either 
in  acquiring  or  in  using  them,  and  therefore 
thev  are  called,  mammon  of  unri s'hteoiisness, 
Luke  xvi.  9.    Iniquity  is  so  involved  in  the 


notion  of  riches,  that  it  can  very  hardly  be 
scparalt'd  from  them.  St.  Jerome  says,  Vcr- 
u/n  mihi  vidrliir  illud.  dircs  aut  iniqnus  est, 
aiit  initjui  haeres :  To  me  it  appears,  ihat  he 
^  who  is  rich  is  either  himself  an  unjust  man 
or  the  heir  of  one.  Foul  hands  pollute  all 
j  they  touch  ;  it  is  our  sin  that  defiles  what 
'  we  possess  :  it  is  sin  that  burdens  the  whole 
creation,  and  presses  groans  out  of  the  very 
frame  of  the  world,  Rom.  viii.  22.  For  we 
know  lhat  the  whole  creation  grnaneiri  and 
travaileth  in  pain  together  until  now.  This 
our  leprosy  defiles  our  houses,  the  very  walls 
and  floors,  6ur  meat  and  drink  and  all  we 
touch,  polluted  when  alone,  and  polluted  in 
society,  our  meetings  and  conversations  to- 
gether being  for  the  greatest  part  nothing  but 
a  commerce  and  interchange  of  sin  and  vanity. 

We  breathe  up  and  down  in  an  infected 
air,  and  are  very  receptive  of  the  infection 
by  our  own  corruption  within  us.    We  read- 
ily turn  the  things  we  possess  here  to  occa- 
sions  and  instruments  of  sin,  and  ihink  there 
is  no  liberty  nor  delight  in  their  use  without 
I  ahusinjr  them.    How  few  are  they  wh<.  "an 
I  carry  (as  they  say)  a  full  cup  even  ;  who  can 
have  digestion  strong  enough  for  the  right 
j  use  of  great  places  and  estates:  who  can 
'  bear  preferment  without  pride,  and  riches 
j  without  covetousncss,  and  case  without  wan- 
tonness ! 

Then,  as  these  earthly  inheritances  are 
stained  with  sin  in  their  use,  so  what  grief, 
and  strife,  and  contentions  about  ol)taiiiing 
or  retaining  them  !  Doth  not  the  matter  of 
possession,  this  same  meum  and  tuum,  divide 
many  times  the  affections  of  those  who  are 
knit  together  in  nature,  or  other  strict  ties, 
and  prove  the  very  apple  of  strife  betwixt 
nearest  friends  ? 

If  we  trace  great  estates  to  their  first  origi- 
nal, how  few  Avill  be  I'ound  that  owe  not  their 
beginning  either  to  fraud,  or  rapine,  or  op- 
pression !  and  the  greatest  empires  and  king- 
I  doms  in  the  world  have  had  their  foundations 
laid  in  blood.  Are  not  these  denied  inheri- 
tances? 

That  withcrcth  not."]  A  borrowed  phrase, 
alluding  to  the  decaying  of  plants  and  flow- 
ers, which  bud  and  flourish  at  a  certain  time 
of  the  year,  and  then  fade  and  wither,  and 
in  winter  are  as  if  they  were  dead. 

And  this  is  the  third  disadvantage  of  pos- 
sessions and  all  things  worldly,  that  they 
abide  not  in  one  estate,  but  are  in  a  more  un- 
certain and  irregular  inconstancy  than  either 
the  flowers  and  plants  of  the  field,  or  the 
moon,  from  which  they  are  called  sublunary ; 
j  like  Nebuchadnezzar's  ima?e,  degenerating 
I  by  degrees  into  baser  metals,  and,  in  the  end, 
'  into  a  mixture  of  iron  and  clay. 
I     The  excellency,  then,  of  this  inliei iiance, 
'  is,  that  it  is  free  from  all  those  evils.    It  falls 
i  not  under  the  stroke  of  time,  comes  not  with- 
j  in  the  compass  of  its  scythe,  which  hath  so 
large  a  compass,  and  cuts  down  all  othei 
I  things. 


Ver.  5.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


79 


There  is  nothing  in  it  weighing  it  toward 
corruption.  It  is  immortal,  everlasting  ;  for 
it  is  the  fruition  of  the  immortal  everlasting 
God,  by  immortal  souls  ;  and  the  body  joined 
with  it,  shall  likewise  be  immortal,  having 
put  OK.  in.corruption,  as  the  apostle  speaks, 
1  Cor.  XV.  54. 

It  faileth  not  aivaij.]  No  spot  of  sin  nor 
sorrow  there  ;  all  pollution  wiped  away,  and 
all  tears  with  it ;  no  envy  nor  strife  ;  not  as 
here  among  men,  one  supplanting  another, 
one  pleading  and  fighting  against  another, 
dividing  this  point  of  earth  with  fire  and 
sword  ; — no,  this  inheritance  is  not  the  less 
by  division,  by  being  parted  among  so  many 
brethren,  every  one  hath  it  all,  each  his 
crown,  and  all  agreeing  in  casting  them  down 
before  his  throne,  from  whom  they  have 
received  them,  and  in  the  harmony  of  his 
praises. 

This  inheritance  is  often  called  a  kingdom, 
and  a  crown  of  glory.  This  last  word  may 
allude  to  those  garlands  of  the  ancients  ;  and 
this  is  its  property,  that  the  flowers  in  it  are 
all  nrnnranthf.s  (as  a  certain  plant  is  named), 
and  so  it  is  called  (I  Pet.  v.  4),  A  crown,  of 
glory  thai  fadrdh  not  away. 

No  change  at  all  there,  no  winter  and  sum- 
mer: not  like  the  poor  comforts  here,  but  a 
bliss  always  flourishing.  The  grief  of  tiie 
saints  here,  is  not  so  much  for  the  changes 
of  outward  things,  as  of  their  inward  com- 
forrs.  Sunvis  hora,  sed  brevis  mora.  Sweet 
presences  of  God  they  sometimes  have,  but 
they  are  short,  and  often  interrupted  ;  but 
there  no  cloud  shall  come  betwixt  them  and 
their  sun;  tliey  shall  behold  him  in  his  full 
brightness  for  ever.  As  there  shall  be  no 
change  in  iheir  beholding,  so  no  weariness 
nor  abatement  of  their  delight  in  beholding. 
They  sing  a  new  song,  always  the  same,  and 
yet  always  new.  The  sweetest  of  (mr  music, 
if  it  were  to  be  heard  but  for  one  whole  day, 
would  weary  them  who  are  most  delighted 
with  it.  Wliat  we  have  here  cloys,  but  sat- 
^  isfies  not ;  the  joys  above  never  cloy,  and  yet 
always  satisfy. 

We  should  here  consider  the  last  property 
of  this  inheritance,  namely,  the  cert'iinty  of 
it — Rn.tKrneil  in  heaven,  for  you;  but  that  is 
connected  with  the  following  verse,  and  so 
will  be  fitly  joined  with  it.  Now  for  some 
use  of  all  ibis. 

If  these  things  were  believed,  they  would 
persuade  lijr  themselves  ;  we  should  not  need 
add  any  entreaties  lo  move  you  to  seek  after 
this  inheritance.  Have  we  not  experience 
enough  of  the  vanity  and  misery  of  things 
corrupt. .)le  1  and  are  not  a  great  part  of  our 
days  already  spent  among  them?  Is  it  not 
time  to  consider  whether  we  be  provided 
with  anything  surer  and  better  than  what  we 
have  here  ;  wlietiier  we  have  any  inheritance 
to  go  liDiiK!  to  after  our  wandering?  or  can 
say  with  the  apost.e  (2  Cor.  v.  1),  Wc  know 
thai  if  nur  earthly  hou.se  of  this  tnhernacle 
Wire  dmsolve'l,  ue  \ave  a  building  of  God, 


'  an  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens. 

If  these  things  gain  our  assent  while  we 
'hear  them,  yet  i.  dies  soon.    Scarcely  any 
retire  within  themselves  afterward  to  pursue 
those  thoughts,  and  to  make  a  work  indeed 
of  them  ;  they  busy  their  heads  rather  an- 
other way,  building  castles  in  the  air,  ard 
spinning  out  their  thoughts  in  vain  contri- 
vances.   Happy  are  they  whose  hearts  the 
'  Spirit  of  God  sets  and  fixes  upon  this  inher- 
itance :  they  may  join  in  with  the  apostle, 
and  say,  as  here.  Blessed  he  the  God  and  Fa- 
ther of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  irho  hath  be- 
gotten us  again  unto  this  linj/y  hope,-  to  this 
inheritance  incorruptible,  undcfled,  and  that 
I  fadelh  not  away. 

Ver.  5.  Who  are  kept  by  the  power  of  God,  through 
faith,  unto  salvation,  ready  to  be  revealed  in  the 
last  time. 

It  iS  doubtless  a  great  contentment  to  the 
children  of  God,  to  hear  of  the  excellences 
of  the  life  to  come  ;  they  do  not  use  to  be- 
come weary  of  that  subject ;  yet  there  is 
one  doubt,  which,  if  it  be  not  removed,  may 
damp  their  delight  in  hearing  and  consider- 
ing of  all  the  rest.  The  richer  the  estate  is, 
it  will  the  more  kindle  the  malice  and  dili- 
gence of  their  enemies  to  deprive  them  of 
it,  and  to  cut  them  short  of  possessing  it. 
And  this  they  know,  that  those  spiritual  pow- 
ers who  seek  to  ruin  thein,  do  overmatch 
them  far,  both  in  craft  and  force. 

Against  the  fears  of  this,  the  apostle  com- 
forts the  heirs  of  salvation,  assuring  them, 
that,  as  the  estate  they  look  for  is  excellent, 
so  it  is  certain  and  safe,  laid  up  where  it  is 
out  of  the  reach  of  all  adverse  powers,  re- 
served in  heaven  for  you.  Besides  that  this 
is  a  further  evidence  of  the  worth  and  excel- 
lency of  this  inheritance,  it  makes  it  sure. 
It  confirms  what  was  said  of  its  excellency ; 
for  it  must  be  a  thing  of  greatest  wonh,  that 
is  laid  up  in  the  highest  and  best  i)lace  of 
the  world,  namely,  in  heaven  for  you,  where 
nothing  that  is  imjjure  once  enters,  much 
less  is  laid  up  and  kept.  Thus,  the  land 
where  this  inheritance  lies,  makes  good  all 
that  hath  been  spoken  of  the  dignity  and 
riches  of  it. 

But  further,  as  it  is  a  rich  and  i)Ieasant 
country  where  it  lieih,  it  hath  also  tiiis  priv- 
ilege, to  be  the  only  land  of  rest  and  peace, 
free  from  all  possibiliiy  of  invasion.  There 
is  no  spoiling  of  it,  and  laying  it  waste,  and 
defacing  its  beauty,  by  leading  armies  into 
it,  and  making  it  the  seat  of  war  ;  no  noise 
of  drums  or  trumpets,  no  inundations  of  one 
people  driving  out  another  and  silting  down 
in  their  possessions.  In  a  word,  tiicre  is 
nothing  there  subj(!ct  to  decay  of  itself,  so 
neither  is  it  in  danger  of  fra'  d  or  violence. 
When  our  Savior  speaks  of  this  same  hap- 
piness, in  a  like  term.  Matt.  vi.  20,  what  ts 
here  called  an  inheritance,  is  there  called  a 
treasure.    He  expresses  the  permanency  oJ 


80 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  I. 


it  by  these  two,  that  it  hath  neither  moth  nor 
rust  in  itself  to  corrupt  it,  nor  can  thieves 
break  through  and  steal  it.  There  is  a  worm 
at  the  root  of  all  our  enjoyments  here,  cor- 
rupiinsi  causes  within  themselves;  and  be- 
sides that,  they  are  exposed  to  injury  from 
without,  which  may  deprive  us  of  them. 
How  many  stately  palaces,  which  have  been 
possibly  divers  years  in  building,  hath  fire 
upon  a  very  small  be<iinning  destroyed  in  a 
few  hours!  What  great  hopes  of  gain  by 
traffic  hath  one  tempest  mocked  and  disap- 
pointed !  How  many  who  have  thought 
their  possessions  very  sure,  yet  have  lost 
thetn  by  some  trick  of  law,  and  others  (as  in 
lime  of  war)  been  driven  from  them  by  the 
sword  !  Nothing  free  from  all  danger  but 
this  inheritmice,  which  is  laid  up  in  the 
hands  of  God,  and  kept  in  heaven  for  us. 
The  highest  stations  in  the  world,  namely, 
the  estate  of  kings,  they  arc  but  mountains 
of  prey,  one  robbing  and  spoiling  another ; 
but  in  that  holy  mountain  above,  there  is 
none  to  huri,  or  spoil,  or  offer  violence. 
What  the  prophet  speaks  of  the  church 
here,  is  more  perfectly  and  eminently  true  of 
\\.  above,  Isaiah  Ixv.  25. 

This  is,  indeed,  a  necessary  condition  of 
our  joy  in  the  thoughts  of  this  happy  estate, 
that  we  have  some  persuasion  of  our  pro- 
priety, that  it  is  ours  ;  that  we  do  not  speak 
and  hear  of  it,  as  trarellers  passing  by  a 
pleasant  place  do  behold  and  discourse  of  its 
lair  structure,  the  sweetness  of  the  seat,  the 
planting,  the  gardens,  the  meadows  that  are 
about  it,  and  so  pass  on  ;  having  no  further 
interest  in  it.  But  when  we  hear  of  this  glo- 
rious inheritance,  thi.s  treasure,  this  kingdom 
that  is  pure,  and  rich,  and  lasting,  we  may 
add,  it  is  mine,  it  is  reserved  in  heaven,  anil 
reserved  for  me  ;  I  have  received  the  eviden- 
ces and  the  earnest  of  it ;  and,  as  it  is  kept 
safe  for  me,  so  I  shall  likewise  be  preserved 
to  it,  and  that  is  the  other  pan  of  the  cer- 
tainty that  completes  the  comforts  of  it. 
Ephes.  i.  14. 

The  salvation  which  Christ  hath  purchas- 
ed is,  indeed,  laid  up  in  heaven,  but  we  who 
seek  after  it,  are  on  earth,  compassed  about 
with  dangers  and  temptations.  What  avails 
it  us,  that  our  salvation  is  in  heaven,  in  the 
place  of  safety  and  quietness,  while  we  our- 
selves are  tossed  upon  the  stormy  seas  of 
this  world,  amidst  rocks  and  shelves,  every 
hour  in  danger  of  shipwreck  ?  Our  inherit- 
ance is  in  a  sure  hand  indeed,  our  enemies 
can  not  come  at  it  ;  but  they  may  over-run 
and  destroy  us  at  their  pleasure,  for  we  are 
in  the  midst  of  ihem.  Thus  might  we  think 
and  complain,  and  h^sc  the  sweetness  of  all 
our  other  thoughts  concerning  heaven,  if 
there  were  not  as  firm  a  promise  for  our  own 
safety  in  the  midst  of  our  dangers,  as  there 
is  of  the  safety  of  our  inheritance  that  is  out 
of  danger. 

The  assurance  is  full,  th\is  ;  it  is  kept  for  us 
vo  heaven,  and  we  kept  on  '. arth  for  it:  as  it 


is  reserved  for  us,  we  are  no  less  surely  pre- 
serred  to  it.  There  is  here,  1.  The  estate 
itself,  salvation.  2.  The  jireservation,  or  se- 
curing, of  those  that  expect  it,  kept.  3.  The 
time  of  full  possession,  in  the  last  lime. 

1.  The  estate — unto  salvation.  Before  it 
is  called  an  inheritance  ;  here  we  ire  more 
particularly  told  what  is  meant  by  that, 
namely,  salvation.  This  is  more  expressly 
sure,  being  a  deliverance  from  misery,  and  it 
imports,  withal,  the  possession  of  perfect 
hap})iness.  The  first  part  of  our  happiness 
is,  to  be  freed  from  those  miseries  to  which 
we  are  subject  by  our  guiltiness;  to  be  set 
free,  1.  From  the  curse  of  the  law,  and  the 
wrath  of  God, from  everlasting  death.  2.  From 
all  kind  of  mortality  and  decaying.  3.  From 
all  power  and  stain  of  sin.  4.  From  all 
temptation.  5.  From  all  the  griefs  and  af- 
flictions of  this  life.  To  have  the  perfec- 
tion of  grace  in  the  fulness  of  holiness,  and 
the  perfection  of  bliss  in  the  fulness  of  joy, 
in  the  continual  vision  of  God  I- — but  how 
little  we  are  able  to  say  of  this,  our  apostle 
here  teacheth  us,  in  that  it  is  veiled  to  us ; 
only  so  much  shines  through,  as  we  are  ca 
pable  of  here;  but  the  revealed  knowledge 
of  ii  is  only  in  the  possession  ;  it  is  re- 
vcaled  in  the  last  time. 

2dly.  Their  preservation,  with  the  causes 
of  it.  Kept  by  the  power  of  God  through 
faith.  The  inheritance  is  kept  not  only  in 
safety,  but  in  quietness.  The  children  of 
God,  for  whom  it  is  kept,  while  they  are 
here,  are  kept  safe  indeed,  but  not  unmo- 
lested and  unassaulted  ;  they  have  enemies, 
and  such  as  are  stirring,  and  cunning,  and 
powerful  ;  but,  in  the  midst  of  ihem,  they 
are  guarded  and  defended  ;  they  perish  not, 
according  to  the  prayer  of  our  Savior  poured 
out  for  them,  John  xvii.  16,  /  pray  not  that 
thou  shouldst  take  them  out  of  the  world  , 
but  that  thou  shouldst  keep  thrin  from  the  evil. 

They  have  the  prince  of  the  power  of  the 
air,  and  all  his  armies,  all  the  forces  he  c?n 
make,  against  them.  Though  his  power  is 
nothing  but  tyranny  and  usurpation,  yet  be- 
cause once  they  were  under  his  yoke,  he  be- 
stirs himself  to  pursue  them,  when  they  are 
led  forth  from  their  captivity,  as  Pharaoh, 
with  all  his  chariots  and  horses  and  horse- 
men, pursues  after  the  Israelites  going  out 
of  Egypt. 

The  word  in  the  original  {<i>pr,Mf,.,vi,cv»t)  here 
translated  kept,  is  a  military  term,  used  for 
those  who  are  kept  as  in  a  fort  or  garn'son- 
town  besieged.  So  Satan  is  still  raising  bat- 
teries against  this  fort,  using  all  ways  to  take 
ii,  by  strength  or  stratagem,  iniwearied  it» 
his  assaults,  and  very  skilful  to  know  his  ad- 
vantages, and  where  we  are  weakest,  there 
to  set  on.  And  besides  all  this,  he  hath  in- 
telligence with  a  party  within  us,  ready  to 
betray  us  to  him  ;  so  that  it  were  impossible 
for  us  to  hold  out,  were  there  nr)t  another 
watch  and  guard  than  our  own,  and  »ther 
walls  and  bulwarks  than  any  that  i)ur  skill 


Ver.  5.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


aut!  industry  can  raise  for  our  own  defence. 
In  this,  then,  is  our  safety,  tliat  there  is  a 
power  above  our  own,  yea  and  above  all  our 
enemies,  that  guards  us,  salvation  itself  our 
walls  and  buhearks.  We  ought  to  watch, 
but  whei  we  do  so  in  obedience  to  our  com- 
mander, the  captain  of  our  salvation,  yet  it 
is  his  own  watching,  who  sleeps  not,  nor  so 
much  as  slumbers,  it  is  that  preserves  us, 
and  makes  ours  not  to  be  in  vain.  Psal.  cxxvi. 
1  ;  Isa.  xxvii.  3.  And  therefore  those  two 
are  jointly  commanded.  Watch  and  pray  that 
ye  enter  not  into  temptation.  Watch,  there 
IS  the  necessity  of  our  diligence  ;  pray,  there 
is  the  insufficiency  of  it,  and  the  necessity 
of  his  watching,  by  whose  power  we  are  ef- 
fectually preserved,  and  that  power  is  our 
fort.  Isa.  xxvi.  1,  Salvation  hath  God  ap-  [ 
pointed  for  walls  and  bulwarks.  What  rqore 
safe  than  to  be  walled  with  salvation  itself. 
So,  ProT.  xviii.  10,  The  name  of  the  Lord  is  , 
a  strong  tower  ;  the  righteous  Jly  into  it  and 
are  safe.  \ 

Now  the  causes  of  our  preservation  are  | 
two,  1.  Supreme,  the  pniver  of  God.  2.  Sub- 
ordinate,/r/;;A.    The  supreme  power  of  God, 
is  that  on  which  depend  our  stability  and  \ 
perseverance.   When  wc  consider  how  weak 
we  are  in  ourselves,  yea,  the  very  strongest 
among  us,  and  how  assaulted,  we  wonder, 
and  justly  we  may,  that  any  can  continue  one  j 
day  in  the  state  of  grace :  but  when  we 
look  on  the  strength  by  which  we  are  guard-  I 
ed,  the  power  of  God,  then  we  see  the  rea- 
son of  our  stability  to  the  end  ;  for  omipo- 
tency  supports  us,  and  the  everlasting  arms  1 
are  under  us. 

Then  faith  is  the  second  cause  of  our  pres- 
ervation ;  because  it  api)lies  the  first  cause, 
the  power  of  God.  Our  faith  lays  hold  up-  ; 
on  this  power,  and  this  power  strengthens  | 
faith,  and  so  we  are  preserved;  it  puts  us 
within  those  walls,  sets  the  soul  within  the 
guard  of  the  power  of  God,  which,  by  self- 
confidence  and  vain  presuming  in  its  own 
strength,  is  exposed  to  all  kind  of  danger. 
Faith  is  an  humble  self-denying  grace;  ii 
makes  the  Christian  nothing  in  himself  and 
all  in  God. 

The  weakest  persons  who  are  within  a 
strong  place,  women  and  children,  though 
they  were  not  able  to  resist  the  enemy,  if 
they  were  alone,  yet  so  long  as  the  place 
wherein  they  are  is  of  sufficient  strength, 
and  well  manned,  and  every  way  accommo- 
date to  hold  out,  they  are  in  safety  ;  thus  the 
weakest  believer  is  safe,  because  by  believ- 
ing he  is  withir,  the  strongest  of  all  defences. 
Faith  is  the  victory,  and  Christ  sets  his 
Rtrcrigth  against  Satan's  ;  and  when  the 
Christian  is  hard  beset  with  some  tempta- 
tion, too  strong  for  himself,  then  he  looks  up 
'o  Ilim  who  is  the  great  conqueror  of  the 

Eowers  of  darkness,  and  calls  to  him,  "  Now, 
-ord,  assist  thy  servant  in  this  encounter, 
and  put  to  thy  strength,  that  the  glory  may 
be  thine."    Thus,  faith  is  such  an  engine  as 
11 


draws  in  the  power  of  God  and  his  Son  Je- 
sus into  the  works  and  conflicts  that  it  hath 
in  hand.  This  is  our  victory,  even  our  faith, 
1  John  V.  4. 

It  is  the  property  of  a  good  Christian  to 
magnify  the  power  of  God,  and  to  have  high 
thoughts  of  it,  and  therefore  it  is  his  privi- 
lege to  find  safety  in  that  power.  David  can 
not  satisfy  himself  with  one  or  two  expres- 
sions of  it,  but  delights  in  multiplying  them. 
Psalm  xviii.  1,  The  Lord  is  viy  rock,  and 
my  fortress,  and  my  deliverer  ;  my  God,  my 
strength,  in  whom  J  will  trust  ;  my  buckler, 
and  the  horn  of  my  salvation,  and  my  high 
tower.  Faith  looks  above  all,  both  that 
which  the  soul  hath,  and  that  which  it  wants, 
and  answers  all  doubts  and  fears  with  this 
almiglity  power  upon  which  it  rests. 

2dly.  The  time  of  full  possession — ready 
to  be  revealed  in  the  last  time.  This  salva- 
tion is  that  great  work  wherein  God  intend- 
ed to  manifest  the  glory  of  his  grace,  con- 
trived before  time,  and  in  the  several  ages 
of  the  world  brought  forward,  after  the  de- 
creed manner  ;  and  the  full  accomplishment 
of  it  is  reserved  for  the  end  of  time. 

The  souls  of  the  faithful  do  enter  into  the 
possession  of  it,  when  they  remove  from  their 
houses  of  clay  ;  yet  is  not  their  happiness 
complete  till  that  great  day  of  the  appear- 
ing of  Jesus  Christ.  They  are  naturally  im- 
perfect till  their  bodies  be  raised  and  rejoin- 
ed to  their  souls,  to  partake  together  of  their 
bliss  ;  and  they  are  mystically  imperfect,  till 
all  the  rest  of  the  members  of  Jesus  Christ 
be  added  to  them. 

But  then  shall  their  joy  be  absolutely  full, 
when  both  their  own  bodies,  and  the  mysti- 
cal body  of  Christ  shall  be  glorified  :  when 
all  the  children  of  that  glorious  family  shall 
meet,  and  sit  down  to  that  great  marriage 
supper  at  their  Father's  table.  Then  shall 
the  music  of  that  new  song  be  full,  when 
there  is  not  one  wanting  of  those  that  are 
appointed  to  sing  it  for  eternity.  In  that  day 
shall  our  Lord  Jesus  be  glorified  in  his  saints, 
and  admired  in  all  them  that  believe,  2  Thess. 
i.  10. 

You  see  what  it  is  that  the  gospel  ofTers 
you,  and  you  may  gather  how  great  both 
your  folly  and  your  guiltiness  will  be,  if  you 
neglect  and  slight  so  great  salvation  when  it 
is  brought  to  you,  and  you  are  entreated  tc 
receive  it.  This  is  all  that  the  preaching  of 
the  word  aims  at,  and  yet,  who  hearkens  tc 
it?  How  few  lay  hold  on  this  eternal  life.. 
this  inheritance,  this  crowu  that  is  held  forth 
to  all  thai  hear  of  it ! 

Oh  !  that  you  could  be  persuaded  to  be 
saved,  that  you  would  be  willing  to  embrace 
salvation  !  You  think  you  would  ;  but  if  it 
be  so,  then  I  may  say,  though  you  would  be 
saved,  yet  your  custom  of  sin,  your  love  to 
sin,  and  love  to  the  world,  will  not  snfl'cr  you  ; 
and  these  will  still  hinder  you,  unless  you 
put  on  holy  resolutions  to  break  through 
them,  and  trample  them  under  foot,  and  take 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LCiur.  I 


thi..  kinirdom  by  a  liaiul  of  violence,  wliidi 
Goil  is  so  will  pleasi'il  with.  He  is  williiigly 
)vercuine  by  that  force,  and  gives  this  king- 
dom most  williii<;ly,  wliere  it  is  so  taken  ;  it 
is  not  attaiiu'il  by  siothiuliiess,  and  sitlinfj  still 
with  I'oKled  hands:  it  must  be  invaded  with 
strenijth  of  fait'-.i,  with  armies  of  prayers  and 
tears  ;  and  they  who  set  upon  it  thus  are  sure 
to  take  it. 

Consider  what  we  are  doing,  how  we  mis- 
place our  diligence  on  things  that  abide  nut, 
or  we  abide  not  to  enjoy  litem.  We  have  jio 
abiding  ctti/  here,  saith  the  apostle,  but  he 
adds  tliat  which  comforts  the  citizens  of  the 
new  Jerusalem,  Wc  look  fur  one  to  come, 
whose  liutldvr  and  maker  is  God.  Hear  not 
these  things  idly,  as  if  they  concerned  you 
not,  but  let  them  move  you  to  resolution  and 
actions.  Say,  as  they  said  of  Canaan,  it  is  a 
^ood  land,  let  us  n^o  up  and  possess  it.  Learn 
to  use  what  you  have  here  as  travellers,  and 
let  your  home,  your  inheritance,  your  treas- 
ure be  on  high,  which  is  by  far  the  richest 
and  the  safest :  and  if  it  be  so  with  you,  then 
Where  your  treasure  is,  there  will  your  hearts 
he  also. 

V'f.r.  6.  Whorein  ye  greatly  rejoice,  though  now  for 
a  season  (if  need  be)  ye  are  in  heaviness  through 
miinitold  temptations. 

The  same  motives  can  not  beget  contrary 
passions  in  the  soul ;  therefore,  the  apostle 
reduces  the  mixture  of  sorrowing  and  rejoi- 
cing that  is  usual  in  the  heart  of  a  Christian 
to  the  different  causes  of  both,  and  siiows 
which  of  the  two  hath  the  stronger  cause, 
and  is  therefore  always  predominant  in  him 
who  entertains  and  considers  it  aright. 

His  scope  is,  to  stir  up  and  strengthen  spir- 
itual joy  in  hisafllicted  brethren  ;  and  there- 
fore having  set  the  matter  of  it  before  them 
in  the  preceding  verses,  he  now  applies  it, 
and  e.xpressly  opposes  it  to  their  distresses. 

Some  read  these  words  exhorlatively,  In 
which  rrjoice  ye.  It  is  so  intended,  but  I  con- 
ceive it  serves  that  end  better  mdicatively,  as 
we  now  read  it,  In  which  ye  rejoice.  It  ex- 
horts in  a  more  insinuating  and  persuasive 
manner,  that  it  may  be  so,  to  urge  it  on  them, 
that  it  is  so.  Thus  St.  Paul,  Acts  xxvi.  27, 
King  Agrippa,  behevesl  thou  the  prophets  ? 
I  know  that  thou  hclrevest.  And  straight  he 
answered,  Thou,  almost  persuadest  me  to  be 
a  Christian.  This  implies  how  just  and  how 
reasonable  it  is,  that  the  things  spoken  of 
should  make  them  glad;  in  these  they  will 
rejoice,  yea,  do  rejoice.  Certainly,  if  you 
Know  and  consider  what  the  causes  of  your 
joy  are,  ye  can  not  choose  but  find  it  within 
you,  and  in  such  a  measure  as  to  swallow  up 
all  your  temporary  sorrows,  how  great  and 
liow  many  soever  their  causes  be. 

We  are  then  to  consider  severally  these 
bitter  waters  and  the  sweet,  this  sorrow  and 
this  joy.  1.  In  their  spring>  ;  2.  In  their 
btieamfs. 

And  first,  tliey  are  called  temptations,  and 


manifold  temptations.  The  habits  of  Divine 
supernatural  grace  are  not  accjuirable  by  hu- 
man study,  or  by  industry,  or  by  exercise; 
they  are  of  immediate  infusion  from  heaven  ; 
yet  are  they  iiiiused  to  the  end  that  they  may 
act  and  exercise  themselves  in  the  several 
ctmditionsand  occurrences  of  a  Christian's  life, 
and  by  that  they  grow  stronger.  Whatsoever 
oppositions  or  difficulties  grace  meets  with  in 
its  acting,  go  under  this  general  name  ol 
temjitations.  It  is  not  necessary  to  reckon  up 
the  variety  of  senses  of  this  word,  in  its  full 
latitude  :  how  God  is  said  to  tempt  man,  and 
how  it  is  said  that  he  tempts  him  not ;  how 
man  tempts  God,  and  how  it  is  said  tnat 
God  is  not  tempted  ;  how  Satan  tempts  men, 
and  men  one  another,  and  a  man  himself:  all 
these  are  several  acceptations  of  this  word  ; 
bul  the  temptations  here  meant,  are  the  things 
by  which  men  are  tempted,  and  particularly 
the  saints  of  God.  And  though  there  is  noth- 
ing in  the  words,  that  may  not  agree  to  all 
sorts  of  temptations  which  the  godly  are  sub- 
ject to  :  yet  I  conceive  it  is  particularly  meant 
of  their  afllictions  and  distresses,  as  the  apos- 
tle James  likewise  uses  it,  chap.  i.  2. 

And  they  are  so  called,  because  they  give 
particular  and  notable  proof  of  the  temper  ol 
a  Christian's  spirit,  and  draw  forih  evidence 
both  of  the  truth  and  the  measure  of  the 
grace  that  is  in  them.  If  they  fail  and  aip 
foiled,  as  sometimes  they  are,  this  convincp* 
I  them  of  that  human  frailty  and  weakness 
I  which  are  in  them,  and  so  humbles  them. 
:  and  drives  them  out  of  themselves  to  depend 
upon  another  for  more  strength  and  better 
success  in  after-encounters.  If  they  acqui' 
themselves  like  Christians  indeed  (the  Lor^l 
managing  and  assisting  that  grace  which  ht» 
hath  given  them),  then  all  their  valor,  and 
strength,  and  victories,  turn  to  his  praise, 
from  whom  they  have  received  all. 

A  man  is  not  only  unknown  to  others  but 
to  himself,  that  hath  never  met  wiili  such 
difficulties  as  require  faith,  and  Christian  for- 
titude, and  patience,  to  surmount  them.  How 
shall  a  man  know  whether  his  meekness  and 
calmness  of  spirit  be  real  or  not,  while  he 
meets  with  no  provocation,  nothing  that  con- 
tradicts or  crosses  him?  But  when  some- 
what sets  upon  him,  that  is  in  itself  very  un- 
pleasant and  grievous  to  him,  and  yel,  if  in 
that  case  he  retains  his  moderation  of  spirit, 
and  flies  not  out  into  impatience,  either 
against  God  or  men,  this  gives  experiment  of 
the  truth  and  soundness  of  that  grace  within 
him  ;  whereas  standing  water  which  is  clear 
at  top  while  it  is  untouched,  yet  if  it  hav«> 
mud  at  the  bottom,  stir  it  a  little,  and  it  rises 
presently. 

It  is  not  altogether  unprofitable;  yea,  it  is 
great  wisdom  in  Christians  to  be  arming 
themselves  against  such  temptations  as  may 
befall  them  hereafter,  though  they  have  not 
as  yet  met  with  them  ;  to  labor  to  overcome 
them  beforehand,  to  supi)osc  the  hardest 
i  things  that  may  be  incident  to  them  ;  and  tc 


Ver.  6.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


83 


put  on  the  strongest  resolutions  they  can  at- 
tain unto.  Yet  all  *iiat  is  but  an  imaginary 
effort ;  and  therefore  there  is  no  assurance 
lhat  the  victory  is  any  more  than  imaginary 
too,  till  it  come  to  action,  and  then,  they  that 
have  spoken  and  thought  very  confidently, 
rnay  prove  but  as  one  said  of  the  Athenians) 
fortes  in  tabula,  patient  and  courageous  in 
picture  or  fancy  ;  and  notwrithstanding  all 
their  arms,  and  dexterity  in  handling  them 
by  way  of  exercise,  may  be  foully  defeated 
when  they  are  to  fight  in  earnest.  The  chil- 
dren of  Ephraim  being  armed,  and  carrying 
bows  (says  the  psalmist,  Psal.  Ixxviii.  9), 
7jet  turned  back  tn  the  day  uf  battle.  It  is 
the  battle  that  tries  the  soldier,  and  the  storm 
the  pilot.  How  would  it  appear  that  Chris- 
tians can  be  themselves,  not  only  patient,  but 
cheerful  in  poverty,  in  disgrace,  and  tempta- 
tions, and  persecutions,  if  it  were  not  often 
their  lot  to  meet  with  them  ?  He  who  framed 
the  heart,  knows  it  to  be  but  deceitful,  and  he 
who  gives  grace,  knows  the  weakness  and 
strength  of  it  exactly  :  yet  he  is  pleased  to 
speak  thus,  that  by  afflictions  and  hard  tasks 
he  tries  what  is  in  the  hearts  ot  his  children. 
For  the  word  of  God  speaks  to  men,  and 
therefore  it  speaks  the  language  of  the  chil- 
dren of  men  :  thus,  Gen.  xxii.  12,  Now  I  know 
that  thou  fearest  God,  seeing  thou  hast  not 
withheld  thy  son,  ihhie  only  son  from  me. 

God  delights  to  call  forth  his  "champions  to 
meet  with  great  temptations,  to  make  them 
bear  crosses  of  more  than  ordinary  weifrht ; 
as  commanders  in  war  put  men  of  most  valor 
and  skill  upon  the  hardest  services.  God 
gets  some  str(jng  furious  trial  upon  a  strong 
Christian,  made  strong  by  his  own  grace,  and 
by  his  victory,  makes  it  appear  to  tlie  world, 
that  though  there  is  a  great  deal  of  the  coun- 
terfeit coin  of  profession  in  religion,  yet  scnne 
there  are,  who  have  the  power,  the  reality 
of  it,  and  that  it  is  not  an  invention,  but 
there  is  truth  in  it ;  that  the  invincible  grace, 
the  very  spirit  of  God  dwells  in  the  hearts 
of  true  believers;  that  he  hath  a  number 
who  do  not  only  speak  big,  but  do  indeed  and 
in  good  earnest  despise  the  world,  and  over- 
come it  by  his  strength.  Some  men  take  de- 
light to  see  some  kind  of  beasts  fi:;ht  together ; 
but  to  see  a  Christian  mind  encountering 
some  great  affliction,  and  conquering  it,  to 
see  his  valor  in  not  sinking  at  the  hardest  dis- 
tresses of  this  life,  nor  the  most  frightful  end 
of  it,  the  cruellest  kinds  of  death,  for  his  sake 
— this  is  (as  one  said)  dignum  Deo  spectacu- 
lum;  this  is  a  com! at  wliich  God  delifrhts  to 
look  upon,  and  he  is  not  a  mere  beholder  in 
it,  for  it  is  the  power  of  his  own  grace  that 
•enables  and  sujjports  the  Christian  in  all 
those  conflicts  ami  temptations. 

Through  manifold  lemplritions.]  This  ex- 
presses a  multitiide  of  temptations,  and  those 
loo  of  divers  kinds,  many  and  manifold.  It 
were  no  hard  condition  to  have  a  trial  now 
and  then,  with  long  ease  and  prosperity  be- 
twixt; cut  to  be  plied  with  one  affliction  at 


the  heels  of  another,  to  have  them  come 
thronging  in  by  multitudes  and  of  different 
kinds,  uncouth,  unaccustomed  evils,  such  as  a 
man  hath  not  been  acquainted  with  before, 
this  is  that  which  is  often  the  portion  of  those 
who  are  the  beloved  of  God,  Psal.  xlii.  7. 
Deep  calleth  unto  deep,  at  the  noise  of  thy 
water-spouts  ;  all  thy  waves  and  thy  hillows 
!  are  gone  over  me. 

I  Ye  are  in  heaviness.]  This  the  apostle 
blames  not,  but  aims  at  the  moderating  of  it. 
Seek  not  altogether  to  dry  up  this  stream, 
but  to  bound  it,  and  keep  it  within  its  banks. 

j  Grace  doth  not  destroy  the  life  of  nature,  but 

'  adds  to  it  a  life  more  excellent ;  yea,  grace 
doth  not  only  permit,  but  requires  some  feel- 
ing of  afflictions.  There  is  an  affected  pride 
of  spirit  in  some  men,  instead  of  patience, 

{  suitable  only  to  the  doctrine  of  the  stoics  as 
it  is  usually  taken :  they  strive  not  to  feel  at 

'  all  the  afTlictions  that  are  on  them  ;  but  this 

,  is  to  despise  the  correction  of  the  Lord,  which 

'  is  alike  forbidden  with  fainting  und(-f  it. 
Heb.  xii.  5.    We  should  not  stop  our  ears, 

'  but  hear  the  rod,  and  him  that  hath  appointed 
tt.  as  the  prophet  speaks,  Mic.  vi.  9.  Where 
there  is  no  feeling  at  all,  there  can  be  no  pa- 
tience. Consider  it  as  the  hand  of  God,  and 
thence  argue  the  soul  into  submission,  Psal. 
xxxix.  9.  /  vms  dumb,  I  opened  not  my  mouth, 
because  thou  didst  it.  But  this  heaviness  is  • 
mitigated,  and  set,  as  it  were,  within  its 
banks,  betwixt  these  two  considerations,  1. 
The  utility,  2.  The  brevity  oi'  h:  the  profit- 
ableness— and  the  shortness  of  it. 

To  a  worldly  man,  great  gain  sweetens  the 
hardest  labor ;  and  to  a  Christian,  spiritual 
profit  and  advantage  may  do  much  to  move 
him  to  take  those  afflictions  well  which  are 
otherwise  very  unpleasant.  Though  the// are 
not  joyous  for  the  present,  yet  this  allays  the 
sorrow  of  them,  the  fruit  that  grows  out  of 
them,  that  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness. 
Heb.  xii.  11. 

A  bundle  of  folly  is  in  the  heart  of  a  child, 
hut  the  rod  of  correction  shall  beat  it  out, 
sailh  Solomon.  Though  the  children  of  God 
are  truly  (as  our  Savior  calls  them)  the  chil- 
dren of  wisdom,  yet,  being  renewed  only  in 
part,  they  are  not  altogether  free  from  those 

I  follies  t.  \l  call  for  this  rod  to  beat  them  out, 
and  sometimes  have  such  a  bundle  of  follies 
as  recjuire  a  bundle  of  rods  to  be  spent  upon 
it — many  and  manifold,  afflictions. 

It  is  not  an  easy  matter  to  be  drawn  from, 
nor  to  be  beaten  f^rom,  the  love  of  this  world, 
and  this  is  what  God  mainly  requires  of  his 
children,  that  they  be  not  in  hjve  with  the 
world,  nor  the  things  of  it;  for  that  is  con- 
trary to  the  love  of  God,  and  so  far  as  that  is 

j  entertained,  this  is  wanting.  And  if  in  the 
midst  of  afTlictions  they  are  sometimes  sub- 
ject to  this  disease,  how  would  it  grow  upon 
them  with  case  and  pcisjierity  !  When  they 
are  beaten  from  one  worldly  folly  or  didight, 
they  are  ready,  through  nature's  corrui)tion, 

1  to  lay  hold  upon  some  other — being  thrusf 


84 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


I  Chap. 


out  from  it  at  one  door,  to  enter  at  some 
oilier  :  as  children  unwillinc;  to  be  weaned, 
if  one  breast  be  inibittered,  they  sock  to  liie 
other:  and  ihereture  there  must  be  somewhat 
to  drive  them  from  that  too.  Thus  it  is  clear 
tliere  is  need,  !;reat  need  of  afllietions,  yea, 
of  many  alUictions,  that  the  saints  be  chas- 
iriied  by  the  Lord,  that  they  may  not  be  con- 
demned by  the  u-nrtd.    1  Cor  xi.  32. 

Many  resemblances  there  are  for  illustra- 
tion of  this  truth,  in  things  both  of  nature 
and  of  art,  some  common,  and  others  choicer : 
but  these  are  not  needful.  The  experience  of 
Christians  tells  them,  how  easily  they  grow 
proud,  and  secure,  and  carnal,  with  a  little 
ease,  and  when  outward  things  go  smoothly 
with  them:  and  therefore  what  unliappincss 
were  it  for  them  to  be  very  hap[)V  that  way  I 

Let  us  learn,  then,  that  in  regard  of  our 
present  frailty  there  is  need  of  afflictions,  and 
so  not  promise  ourselves  exemption,  how 
calm  soever  our  seas  are  for  the  present :  and 
then  for  the  number,  and  mensure,  and  weight 
of  them,  to  resign  that  wholly  into  the  hands 
of  our  wise  Father  and  Physician,  who  fier- 
fectly  knows  our  mould  and  our  maladies, 
and  what  kind  and  quantity  of  chastisement 
are  needful  for  our  cure. 

Though  now  for  a  season  (if  need  be)  ye 
are  in  heaviness.]  The  other  consideration 
which  moderates  this  heaviness,  is  its  short- 
ness. Because  we  willingly  forget  eternity, 
therefore  this  moment  seems  much  in  our 
eyes  :  but,  if  we  could  look  upon  it  aright, 
of  how  little  concernment  is  it  what  be  our 
condition  here  !  If  it  were  as  prosperous  as 
we  could  wish  or  imagine,  it  is  but  for  a  little 
season.  The  rich  man  in  the  gospel  talked 
of  many  years,  but  Thou  fool,  this  niffht  shall 
thy  soul  be  re<juircd  of  thee,  was  the  longest 
period.  The  many  years  are  quickly  drawn 
to  a  very  great  abatciueut,  and  if  full  of  pains 
and  griefs,  those  do  help  to  put  an  end  to 
themselves,  and  hasten  to  it.  Well  then 
might  St.  Austin  say.  Hie  ure,  cade,  modd 
ihi  parcas.  Use  me  here  as  pleaseth  thee,  so 
that  hereafter  it  may  be  well  with  me. 

Wherein.]  This  word,  though  it  can  not 
fall  amiss,  being  referred  to  any  particular  to 
which  inter])reters  have  ap[)ropriated  it,  yet 
it  is  rather  to  be  taken  as  relative  to  the 
whole  complex  sense  of  the  i)receding  verses, 
concerning  the  hope  of  glory.  In  this  thing 
ye  rejoice,  that  ye  are  begotten  again — that 
there  is  such  an  inheritance,  and  that  you  are 
made  heirs  of  it — that  it  is  kept  for  you,  and 
you  for  it — that  nothing  can  come  betwixt 
you  and  it,  to  disappoint  you  of  possessing  and 
enjoying  it — that  though  there  be  many  des- 
erts, and  mountains,  and  seas,  in  the  way, 
yet  you  hav^e  ascertained,  that  you  shall  come 
sate  thither. 

This  is  but  one  thing,  while  the  cause  of 
your  crief  is  temptations,  and  manifold  temp- 
tations, yet  this  one  thing  weighs  down  all 
(hat  multitude.  The  heart  being  arieved  in 
one  thing  naturally  looks  out  for  its  ease  to 


j  some  other:  and  there  is  usually  somewhat 
that  is  a  man's  great  comfort,  that  he  turns 
j  his  thoughts  to,  when  he  is  crossed  and  af- 
flicted in  other  things  :  but  herein  lies  the 
folly  of  the  world,  that  the  things  they  choose 
for  their  refuge  and  comfort  are  such  as  may 
change  themselves,  and  turn  into  discomfort 
and  sorrow  ;  but  the  godly  man,  who  is  the 
fool  in  the  natural  man's  eyes,  goes  beyond 
all  the  rest  in  his  wise  choice  in  this.  He 
rises  above  all  that  is  subject  to  cliange,  casts 
his  anchor  within  the  veil.  That  in  which 
he  rejoiceth  is  still  matter  of  joy  unmoveable 
and  unalterable  ;  although  not  only  his  estate, 
but  the  whole  world  were  turned  upside 
down,  yet  this  is  the  same,  or  rather,  in  the 
psalmist's  words.  Though  the  earth  were  re- 
moved, and  the  greatest  mountains  cast  into 
the  sea,  yet  trill  not  we  fear.  Psal.  xlvi.  2. 
When  we  shall  receive  that  rich  and  pure 
and  abiding  inheritance,  that  salvation  which 
shall  be  revealed  in  the  last  time,  and  when 
time  itself  shall  cease  to  be,  then  there  shall 
be  no  more  reckoning  of  our  joys  by  days  and 
hours,  but  they  shall  run  parallel  with  eter- 
nity. Then  all  our  love,  that  is  now  scatter- 
ed and  parcelled  out  upon  the  vanities  among 
which  we  are  here,  shall  be  united  and  gath- 
ered into  one,  and  fixed  upon  God,  and  thf 
soul  filled  with  the  delight  of  his  presence. 

The  sorrow  was  limited  and  bounded  bj 
the  considerations  we  spoke  of ;  but  this  joy, 
this  exultation,  and  leaping  for  joy  (for  so  it 
is),  is  not  bounded,  it  can  not  be  too  much  ;  its 
measure  is,  to  know  no  measure.  The  afflic- 
tions, the  matter  of  heaviness,  are  but  a  tran- 
sient touch  of  pain  ;  })Ut  that  whereon  this 
joy  is  built  is  most  permanent,  the  measure 
of  it  can  not  exceed,  for  the  matter  of  it  is 
infinite  and  eternal,  beyond  all  hyperb' :le. 
Tliere  is  no  expression  we  have  which  can 
reach  it,  much  less  go  beyond  it  ;  itself  is  the 
hyperbole,  still  surpassing  all  that  can  be  said 
of  it.  Even  in  the  midst  of  heaviness  itself, 
such  is  this  joy  that  it  can  maintain  itself  in 
the  depth  of  sorrow;  this  oil  of  gladness  still 
swims  above,  and  can  not  be  drowned  by  all 
the  floods  of  afflici'On,  yea.  it  is  often  most 
sweet  in  the  greatest  distress.  The  soul 
relishes  spiritual  joy  best,  when  it  is  not  glut- 
ted with  worldly  delights,  but  finds  them 
turned  into  bitterness. 

For  application.    In  that  we  profess  our- 
selves Christians,  we  all  pretend  to  be  the 
sons  of  Cod,  and  so  heirs  of  this  glory  ;  and 
if  each  man   were  individually  asked,  he 
I  would  say,  he  hoped  to  attain  it :  but  were 
,  there  nothing  else,  this  might  abundantly 
convince  us,  that  the  greatest  part  of  us  de- 
lude ourselves,  and  are  deceived  in  this  ;  for 
how  few  are  there  who  do  really  find  this 
I  height  of  joy,  of  gladness  and  exultation,  ir 
,  their  thoughts  and  hopes  of  it,  who  do  dailj 
refresh  and  glad  themselves  with  the  consid 
eration  of  what  is  laid  up  for  them  above, 
more  than  with  all  their  enjoyments  here 
below. 


Ver.  7.1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


Si 


Consider  how  the  news  of  some  small  out- 
ward advmtage  that  is  to  come  to  us  raises 
our  light  vain  hearts,  and  makes  them  leap 
within  us  ;  and  yet  this  news  of  a  kingdom 
prepared  for  us  (if  we  be  indeed  believers), 
stirs  us  not ;  our  hearts  are  as  little  affected 
with  it  as  if  it  concerned  us  not  at  all :  and 
this  is  too  clear  an  evidence  against  us,  that 
indeed  it  concerns  us  not,  that  our  portion  as 
yet  is  not  in  it. 

In  what  a  fool's  paridise  will  men  be  with 
the  thoughts  of  worthless  things,  and  such 
things  too  as  they  shall  never  obtain,  nor 
ever  shall  have  any  further  being  than  what 
they  have  in  their  fancy!    And  how  will 
men  frequently  roll  over  in  their  minds  the 
thoughts  of  any  pleasing  good  they  hope  for  ! 
And  yet  we,  who  say  we  have  hopes  of  the 
glory  to  come,  can  pass  many  days  without 
one  hour  spent  in  the  rejoicing  thought  of 
the  happiness  we  look  for  !    If  any  person  of 
a  mean  condition  for  the  present  were  made 
sure  to  become  very  rich  and  be  advanced  to 
great  honor  within  a  week,  and  after  that  to 
live  to  a  great  age  in  that  high  estate,  enjoy- 
ing health  and  all  imaginable  pleasures,  judge 
ye,  whether  in  the  few  days  betwixt  the 
knowledge  of  those  news  and  the  enjoying 
of  them,  the  thoughts  of  what  he  were  to 
attain  to  would  not  be  frequent  with  him, 
and  be  always  welcome.    There  is  no  com- 
parison betwixt  all  we  can  imagine  this  way 
and  the  hopes  we  speak  of;  and  yet,  how 
seldom  are  our  thoughts  upon  those  things, 
and  how  faint  and  slender  is  our  rejoicing  in 
them  I    Can  we  deny  ihat  it  is  unbelief  of 
these  things  that  causeth  this  neglect  and 
forgetting  of  them?     The   disci-urse,  the 
tongue  of  men  and  angels  can  not  beget  Di- 
vine belief  of  tne  happiness  to  come  ;  only 
he  who  gives  k,  gives  faith  likewise  to  ap- 
prehend It,  and  h\  hold  upon  it,  and,  u\)on 
our  believing,  to  be  fillet'  ^  ith  joy  in  the 
hopes  of  it. 


Ver.  7.  That  the  trial  of  your  faith  hoing  much  more 
precious  than  of  gold  that  perishr  lh,  tljnu;;h  it  he 
tried  with  tire,  might  be  found  unto  praise,  and 
honor,  and  glory,  at  the  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  way  of  the  jusl.  (saith  Solomon)  is  as 
the  shining  ^'A'^'.  t/iat  rhnicth  more  and  more 
to  the  perfect  day.  Still  making  forward, 
and  ascending  toward  perfection,  moving  as 
fast  when  they  are  clouded  wuh  afhiction  as 
at  any  time  else  ;  vea,  all  that  aeems  to  work 
agRiiif*  them,  t'urthers  them.  Those  graces 
that  would  possibly  grow  heavy  ard  uti- 
wie'dlv,  by  too  much  ease,  arc  hv'-ld  in  breath, 
and  increase  their  activity  and  s'rt.igih  by 
conflict.  Di\iine  grace,  even  in  the  heart  of 
weak  and  sintul  man,  is  an  invincible  thin"-. 
"•rowTi  it  in  the  waters  of  adversitv,  it  rise., 
more  beautiful,  as  not  being  drowned  ind;?eL 
but  only  washed  :  throw  it  into  the  furnac° 
of  fiery  trials,  it  comes  out  [)urer,  and  losf-s 
nothing  but  the  dross  wliicli  our  corrupt  na- 
'ure  mixes  with  it.    Thus  the  apostle  hero 


expounds  the  ; '  need  be  of  the  former  verse, 
and  so  justifies  the  joy  in  afflictions,  which 
there  he  speaks  of,  by  their  utility  and  the 
advantage  faith  derives  from  them:  ic  is  so 
tried  that  it  shall  appear  in  its  full  brightness 
at  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  peculiar  treasure  of  a  Christian  beirio; 
the  grace  which  he  receives  from  heaveiJt 
and  particularly  that  sovereign  grace  of  faith, 
whatsoever  he  can  be  assured  will  better  him 
any  way  in  this  he  will  not  only  bear  pa- 
tiently, but  gladly  embrace  it.  See  Rom.  v.  3. 
Therefore  the  apostle  sets  this  before  his 
brethren  in  those  words  of  this  verse  which 
express,  1.  The  worth  and  excellency  of 
faith  ;  2.  The  usefulness  of  temptations  in 
relation  to  it. 

1st.  The  worth  and  excellency  of  faith. 
The  trial  of  faith  is  called  more  precious,  a 
work  of  more  worth  than  the  trial  of  gold, 
because  faith  itself  is  of  more  value  than  gold. 
The  aposile  chooses  this  comparison  as  fitting 
his  purpose  for  the  illustration  of  both, — the 
worth  of  faith  and  likewise  the  use  of  tempt- 
ations, representing  the  one  by  gold,  and  the 
other  by  the  trying  of  gold  in  the  fire. 

The  worth  of  gold  is,  1.  Real,  the  purest 
and  most  precious  of  all  meials,  having  many 
excellent  properties  beyond  them,  as  they 
who  write  of  the  nature  of  gold  observe. 
2.  Far  greater  in  the  esteem  and  opinion  of 
men.  See  how  men  hurry  U|)  and  down,  over 
sea  and  land,  unwearied  in  their  jiursuit,  with 
hazard  of  life,  and  ofien  with  the  loss  of 
uprightness  and  a  good  conscience  ;  and  not 
only  thus  esteem  it  in  itself,  but  make  it  the 
rule  of  their  esteem  one  of  another,  valuing 
men  less  or  more  as  they  are  more  or  less 
furnished  with  it.  And  we  see  at  what  a 
height  'his  is  ;  for  things  we  would  commend 
much,  we  borrow  its  name  to  describe  them, 
e.  g.,  go/dfiit  mediocrity  ;  and  that  age  which 
they  would  call  the  best  of  all,  they  name  it 
the  golden  ai;e ;  and  as  Seneca  observes,  de- 
scribing heavenly  things  (as  Ovid  the  sun's 
palace  and  chariot),  still  gold  is  the  word 
for  all. 

And  the  Holy  Scriptures,  descending  to  our 
reach,  do  set  forth  the  riches  of  the  new  Je- 
rusalem by  it.  Rev.  xxi.,  and  the  excellency 
of  Christ,  Cant.  v.  11,  14.  And  here  the  pre- 
ciousness  of  faith,  whereof  Christ  is  the  ob- 
ject, is  said  to  be  more  precious  Ihnn  gold, 

I  will  not  insist  in  the  parallel  of  faith  with 
gold  in  the  other  qualities  of  it,  as  that  it  is 
pure  and  solid  as  gold,  and  that  it  is  most 
ductile  and  malleable  as  gold  ;  beyond  all 
I  other  metals,  it  plies  any  way  with  the  will 
I  of  God.    But  then  faith  truly  enriches  the 
,  soul  ;  and  as  gold  answers  all  things,  so  faith 
I  g:ves  tile  s-'ul  propriety  in  all  the  "i'h  conso- 
j  iations  of  the  gorpe.',  in  all  the  j,roniises  of 
I  lifenni]  sw'va  ion.  ir  al'  n'^edful  blessings  :  it 
I  drr.ws  viiMie  '"rom  Chr'st  to  strengthen  itself, 
'  an.l  a!l  o'her  grj»ce«. 

An  '  tl  us  -t  not  or'v  ]>r(y\c"\9  u?  t^o'  \,  hut 
goes  fa.  al  ovo  the  cou\pari»oii :  it  ii  »»ir# 


S6 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap. 


precious,  yea,  much  more  precious,  1.  In  its 
original ;  the  other  is  dii;goil  out  of  the  bow- 
els of"  the  eartli ;  but  tlie  mine  of  this  <^old  is 
above,  it  comes  from  heaven.  2.  In  its  na- 
ture, answerable  to  us  oriijinal,  it  is  immate- 
rial, spiritual,  and  pine.  We  reline  gold  and. 
make  it  purer,  bui  when  -vve  receive  faiih  pure 
in  itself,  we  mix  dross  with  it,  and  make  it 
impure  by  the  alloy  of  unlielief  3.  In  its 
endurance  flowing  from  the  former:  it  per- 
isheih  not.  Gold  is  a  thing  in  itself  corrupti- 1 
ble  and  perishing,  and  to  particular  owners 
it  perisheih  in  their  loss  of  it,  they  being 
dejiri^ed  of  it  in  any  way. 

Other  graces  are  likewise  tried  in  the  same 
furnace  ;  but  faith  is  named  as  the  root  of  all ; 
the  rest.  Sharp  atllictions  give  a  Christian  ' 
a  trial  of  his  love  to  God,  whether  it  be  sin- 
.  gle  and  for  himself  or  not ;  fur  then  it  will  be 
the  same  when  he  strikes  as  when  he  em- 
braces, and  in  the  fire  of  allliction  will  rather  i 
grow  the  hotter,  and  be  more  taken  off  I'rom 
the  world,  and  set  upon  him.  A<rain,  the 
grace  of  patience  is  put  particularly  upon  trial 
in  distresses.  But  both  "these  spring  from 
faith  ;  for  love  rises  from  a  right  and  strong 
belief  of  the  goodness  of  God,  and  patience 
from  a  persuasion  of  the  wisdom  and  love  of 
,God,  and  the  truth  of  his  promises.  He  hath 
said,  /  uull  not  fail  thee,  and  that  we  shall 
not  be  tempted  above  our  strength,  and  hewill 
give  the  issue.  Now  the  belief  of  these  things 
causes  patience.  The  trial  of  faith  u  urkelh  \ 
patience.  James  i.  3.  For  therell  re  doth  the 
Christian  resign  up  nimself  and  all  that  con- 
cerns him,  his  trials,  (he  measure  and  lengih 
of  ihem  all,  unto  God's  disjiosal,  because  he 
knows  tiiat  he  is  in  the  hands  of  a  wise  and  [ 
loving  father.  Thus  the  trial  of  these  and 
other  particular  graces  doih  still  resolve  into 
this,  and  is  comprised  under  the  trial  of  faith. 
This  brings  us, 

2dhj.  To  the  usefulness  of  temi)taiions  in 
relation  to  it. 

This  trial  (as  that  of  gold)  may  be  for  a 
twtj-fuld  end.  1.  For  experimeni  of  the  tru'h 
and  ])ureness  of  a  Christian's  faitii.  2.  To 
refine  it  yet  more,  and  to  raise  it  to  a  higher 
pitch  or  degree  of  pureness. 

1.  The  furnace  of  atilicnoiis  shuw-s  upright, 
real  faith  to  be  such  indeed,  remaining  still 
the  same  even  in  the  fire,  the  same  that  it 
was,  undiminished,  as  good  gold  loses  none 
of  its  quantity  in  the  fire.  Doubtless  many 
are  deceived  in  time  of  ease  and  prosperity, 
with  imaginary  liiith  and  fortitude  :  so  that 
there  may  be  still  some  doubt,  wiiile  a  man 
IS  underset  with  outward  helps,  as  riches, 
friends,  esteem,  &c.,  whether  he  leans  upon 
those  or  ui)on  God,  who  is  an  invisible  sup- 
port, though  stronger  than  all  that  are  visible, 
and  is  the  peculiar  and  alone  stay  of  faith  in 
a'!  conditions.  15ut  when  all  these  outward 
p'ops  are  plucked  away  from  a  man,  then  it 
will  be  manifest  whether  something  else  up- 
holds hi'ii  ot  aol  ;  for  if  there  he  nothing  else, 
ii>^n  ue  lulk .  oat  if  his  mmd  stands  firm  and  i 


unreinoved  as  before,  then  it  is  evident  he 
laid  not  his  weight  upon  these  things  which 
be  had  then  about  him,  hut  >vas  nuill  upon  a 
foundation,  though  ?iot  seen,  wnich  is  able 
alone  to  slay  him,  aliliough  he  be  not  only 
iVustiaied  of  all  other  supports,  but  beaten 
upon  with  storms  and  tempests;  as  our  Sa- 
vior says,  the  house  fell  not  because  it  ivas 
founded  on  a  rock.    Matt.  vii.  25. 

This  testified  the  truth  of  David^s  faith, 
who  found  it  siay  his  mind  upon  God,  when 
there  was  nothing  else  near  that  could  do  it : 
I  had  fainted,  unless  I  had  believed.  Fsal. 
xxvii.  13.  So  in  his  strait,  1  Sam.  xxx.  6, 
where  it  is  said  that  David  was  greatly  dis- 
tressed;  but  he  encouraged  himself  m  the 
Lord  his  God.  Thus  Psal.  Ixxxiii.  26.  My 
Jlesh  and  my  heart  fiileth ;  but  God  is  the 
strength  of  my  heart  and  my  portion  for  ever. 
rhe  heart's  natural  sirengtli  of  spirit  and  res- 
olution may  bear  up  under  outward  weak- 
ness, or  the  failing  of  the  flesh  ;  but  when 
the  heart  itself  fails,  which  is  the  strength  of 
the  flesh,  what  sliall  strengthen  it  ?  nothing 
but  God,  who  is  the  strenL^th  of  the  heart  and 
Us  portion  for  ever.  Thus  faith  worketh 
alone,  when  the  case  suits  that  of  the  pro])h- 
el's,  Hab.  iii.  17.  Although  t'lie  fig-tree  shall 
not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the  vine, 
&c.,  yet  I  icill  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy 
in  the  God  of  my  salvation. 

In  spiritual  trials,  which  are  the  sharpest 
and  most  fiery  of  all,  when  the  furnace  is 
wiihin  a  man,  when  God  doth  not  only  shut 
up  his  loving-kindness  from  his  feeling,  but 
seems  to  shut  it  up  in  hot  displeasure  ;  when 
he  writes  bitter  things  against  him,  yet  then 
to  depend  upon  him,  and  wait  for  his  salva- 
tion, and  the  more  he  smites  the  more  he 
cleaves  to  him, — this  is  not  only  a  true,  but 
a  strong,  and  very  refined  faith  indeed.  Well 
might  he  say.  When  I  am  tried  I  shall  come 
forth  as  gold,  who  could  say  that  word. 
Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him: 
though  I  saw,  as  it  were,  his  hand  lifted  up 
to  destroy  me,  yet  from  that  same  hand 
wouid  1  expect  salvation. 

2.  As  the  furnace  shows  faith  to  be  what 
it  is,  so  also  it  betters  it,  and  makes  it  more 
precious  and  purer  than  it  was. 

The  graces  of  the  Spirit,  as  they  come  from 
the  hand  of  God,  who  infuses  them,  are  noth- 
ing but  pureness  ;  but  being  put  uito  a  heart 
where  sin  dwells  (which,  till  the  body  he 
dissolved  and  taken  to  pieces,  can  not  be  fully 
purged  out),  there  they  are  mixed  with  cor- 
ruption and  dross:  and  particularly  faith  is 
mixed  with  unbelief,  and  love  of  earihly 
things,  and  dependance  upon  the  creature,  if 
not  more  than  God,  yet  together  with  him  ; 
and  for  this  is  the  furnace  needful,  that  the 
soul  may  be  purified  from  this  dross,  and 
made  more  sublime  a'ul  spiritual  in  believ- 
ing. It  is  a  hard  task,  and  many  times  comes 
but  slowly  forward,  to  teach  the  heart,  by 
discourse  and  speculation,  to  sit  loose  from 
the  world  at  all  sides,  not  to  cleave  to  the 


Ver.  8,  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


87 


best  tilings  in  it,  though  we  be  compassed 
about  with  :  hem  ;  though  riches  do  increase, 
yet  not  to  set  our  hearts  on  them,  Psal.  Ixxii. 
10  :  not  to  trust  in  such  uncertain  things  as 
they  are,  as  tlie  apostle  speaks,  1  Tim.  vi.  17. 
Theret'ore  God  is  pleased  to  choose  the  more 
etfectual  way  to  teach  his  own  the  right  and 
pure  exercise  of  faith,  either  by  wiihliolding 
or  withdrawing  those  things  from  them.  He 
makes  tliem  relish  the  sweetness  of  spiritual 
comfort,  by  depriving  them  of  those  outward 
comforts  whereon  they  were  in  most  danger 
to  have  doaied  to  excess,  and  so  to  have 
forgotten  themselves  and  him.  When  they 
are  reduced  to  necessity,  and  experimentally 
trained  up  easily  to  let  go  their  hold  of  any 
thing  earthly,  and  to  stay  tliemselves  only 
upon  their  rock,  this  is  the  very  retining  of 
their  faith,  by  those  losses  aud  afflictions 
wherewith  they  are  exercised.  They  who 
learn  bodily  exercises,  as  fencing,  &c.,  are  not 
taught  by  sitting  still,  and  hearing  rules,  or 
seeing  others  practice,  but  they  learn  by  ex- 
ercising themselves.  The  way  to  profit  in 
the  art  of  believing,  or  of  coming  to  this 
spiritual  activity  of  faith,  is  to  be  often  put  to 
that  work  in  the  most  difficult  way,  to  make 
flp  all  wants  and  losses  iu  God,  and  to  sweet- 
3n  the  bitterest  griefs  with  his  loving-kind- 
aess. 

Might  be  found  unto  praise,  and  honor,  and 
glory  ]  This  is  the  end  that  is  intended,  and 
shall  be  certainly  obtained  by  all  these  hot 
trials.  Faith  shall  come  through  them  all, 
and  shall  Oe  found  unto  praise,  &c.  An  un- 
skilful beholder  may  think  it  strange  to  see 
gold  thrown  into  tlie  fire,  and  left  there  for  a 
time  ;  but  he  that  [mis  it  there  would  be  loath 
to  lose  it  ;  his  purpose  is  to  make  some  costly 
piece  of  work  of  it.  Every  believer  gives 
himself  to  Christ,  and  he  undertakes  to  pre- 
sent them  blameless  to  the  Father :  not  one 
of  them  shall  be  lost,  nor  one  drachm  of  their 
faitii;  they  shall  be  found,  and  their  faith 
shall  be  found,  when  he  ap|)ears.  That  faiih 
wliich  is  here  in  the  furnace,  shall  be  then 
made  up  into  a  crown  of  pure  gold:  it  shall 
be  Jound  unto  praise,  and  honor,  and  glory. 

This  praise,  and  bonor,  and  glorv,  may  be 
referred,  either  to  believers  themselves,  ac- 
cording to  the  Apostle  St.  Paul's  expression, 
Rom.  ii.  7,  or  to  Christ  who  appears:  but  the 
two  Will  agree  well  togetlier,  that  it  be  both 
to  their  praise,  and  to  the  praise  of  Ciirist  : 
for  certainly,  all  their  praise  and  glory  shall 
terminate  in  the  glory  of  their  head — Christ, 
who  is  God,  blessed  for  ever.  They  liave 
each  tlieir  crown  ;  but  tlleir  honor  is,  to  cast 
them  all  down  before  his  throne,  lie  shall 
be  glorified  in  his  saints,  and  admired  in  them 
that  helicre.  They  shall  be  glorious  in  him  ; 
and  thercfdro  in  all  their  glory  he  shall  be 
glorified :  for  as  they  have  derived  their  glory 
from  him,  it  shall  all  return  back  to  him 
again. 

At  the  appearance  of  Jesus  Christ.]  This 
denotes  the  time  when  this  shall  come  to 


pass;  for  Christ  is  faithful  and  true;  he  hath 
promised  to  come  again,  and  to  judge  the 
world  in  righteousness,  and  he  will  come  and 
will  not  tairy.  He  shall  judge  righteously  in 
that  day,  who  was  himself  unrisrhteously 
judged  here  on  earth.  It  is  called  the  reve- 
lation ;  all  other  things  shall  be  revealed  in 
that  day  :  the  most  hidden  things,  good  and 
evil,  shall  be  unveiled;  but  it  is  eminently 
the  day  of  his  revelation :  it  shall  be  by  nis 
light,  by  the  brightness  of  his  coming,  that 
all  other  things  shall  be  revealed  ;  but  he 
himself  shall  be  the  worthiest  sight  of  all. 
All  eyes  shall  behold  hiia.  He  shall  then 
gloriously  appear  before  all  men  and  angels, ' 
and  shall  by  all  be  acknowledged  to  be  the 
Son  of  God  and  judge  of  the  world:  some 
shall  with  joy  know  him,  and  acknowledge 
him  to  be  so ;  others  to  their  horror  and 
amazement.  How  beautiful  shall  he  be  to 
those  who  love  him,  when  he,  as  the  glorious 
head,  shall  appear  with  his  whole  body  mys- 
tical together  with  him  ! 

Then  the  glory  and  jiraise  which  all  the 
saints  shall  be  honored  with,  shall  recom- 
pense fully  all  the  scorns  and  ignominies  and 
distresses  they  have  met  with  here.  And 
they  shall  shine  the  brighter  for  them.  Oh  ! 
if  we  considered  often  that  solemn  day,  how 
light  should  we  set  by  the  opinions  of  men, 
and  all  outward  hardships  that  can  befall  us  ! 
How  easily  should  we  di<;est  dispraise  and 
dishonor  here,  and  pass  througli  all  cheerful- 
ly, provided  we  may  be  then  found  in  him, 
and  so  partakers  of  praise,  and  glorij,  and 
honor,  in  that  day  of  his  appearing  ! 

Ver.  8.  Wlien  having  not  seen,  ye  love  ;  in  whom, 
thougli  now  you  .see  liim  not,  yet  believing,  ye  re- 
joice with  joy  unspealialjle,  and  liill  of  glory. 

Vf.r.  9.  Receiving  tlie  end  of  your  liiith,  even  the 
salvation  of  your  souls. 

It  is  a  paradox  to  the  world  which  the 
apostle  hath  asserted,  that  there  is  a  joy 
which  can  subsist  in  the  midst  of  sorrow  ; 
therefore  lie  insists  in  confirmation  of  it,  and 
in  all  these  words  proves  it  to  the  full,  yea, 
with  advantage,  that  the  saints  have  not  only 
some  measure  of  joy  in  the  griefs  that  abound 
upon  them  here,  but  excellent  and  eminent 
joy,  such  as  makes  good  all  that  can  be  said 
of  it,  such  as  can  not  be  spoken  too  much 
of,  for  it  is  unspeakable,  nor  too  much  magni- 
fied, for  it  is  glorious. 

To  evidence  the  truth  of  this,  and  to  con- 
firm his  brethren  in  the  experienced  knowl- 
edge of  it,  he  ex|)resses  here  more  particu- 
larly and  distinctly  the  causes  of  this  their 
joy,  which  are, 

1.  The  object  or  matter  of  it  ;  2.  The  ap- 
prehension and  appropriation  of  that  object: 
which  two  conjoined,  are  the  entire  cause  of 
all  rejoicing. 

1.  'J'he  object  is  Jesus  Christ,  ver.  8,  and 
the  salvation  purchased  by  him,  ver,  9.  For 
these  two  can  not  be  severed,  and  tliese  two 
verses  which  speak  of  them,  require  (as  is 


38 


A  COMMEINTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  1 


evident  by  their  connexion)  to  be  considered  ' 
togellier.  | 

2.  The  apprehension  of  these  is  set  forth, 
Krst,  neaaiivi'ly,  not  by  bodily  sichl ;  second- 1 
ly,  positively:  whereas  it  tnii^ht  seem  to' 
abate  iLe  ceriaiaty  and  liveliness  ol'  their  re- 1 
joicinff,  that  it  isof  thinij-s  they  had  not  seen, 
lor  do  yet  see:  this  is  abuiulaiitly  made  up 
oy  three  for  one,  each  of  ilicm  more  excel-  I 
lent  than  the  mere  bodily  ?i<;iil  of  Chrisi  in 
the  flesh,  which  many  had  who  were  never 
the  better  by  it:  the  three  ihina;s  are,  those 
ihree  prime  Christian  graces,  faith,  love,  and 
hope  :  the  two  former  in  ver.  8,  the  third  in  ! 
ver.  9. — Faith  in  Christ  begetting  love  to  [ 
him,  and  both  these  giving  assured  hope  of 
salvation  by  him,  making  it  as  certain  to 
them,  as  if  it  were  already  in  their  hand, 
and  they  in  possession  of  it.    And  from  all  ^ 
these  together  results  this  exultation,  or  leap- 
ing for  joy,  iov  iinspeakuhlc,  find  full  of  f^lnry.  \ 

This  is  that  one  thms  that  so  much  con-  [ 
cems  us  ;  and  therefore  we  mistake  very  far,  \ 
And  forget  our  own  highest  interest  too  much,  | 
when  we  either  speak  or  hear  of  it  sliirhtly, 
and  apply  not  our  hearts  to  it.    What  is  it 
that  all  our  thoughts  and  endeavors  drive  at  ? 
What  means  all  that  we  are  doing  in  the 
world  ?    Though  we  take  several  ways  to  it, 
and  wrong  wa\  s  for  the  most  part,  yea,  such 
ways  as  lead  not  to  it,  but  set  us  further  off 
from  it ;  yet  what  we  all  seek  after  by  all  our  1 
labor  under  the  sun,  is  someihins:  that  may  j 
be  matter  of  contentment  and  rejoicinii  to  us 
when  we  have  attained  it.    Now  here  it  is, 
and  in  vaiu  is  it  soU£fht  for  elsewhere.  And 
for  this  end  it  is  represented  to  you,  that  it 
may  be  yours,  if  ye  will  entertain  it  :  not  i 
only  that  you  may  know  this  to  be  a  truth, 
that  in  Jesus  Christ  is  laid  up  true  consola-  \ 
tion  and  rejoicing,  that  iie  is  the  magazine  ! 
and  treasury  of  it,  but  that  you  may  know  j 
how  to  bring  him  home  into  your  hearts,  and  \ 
iod^e  him  there,  and  so  to  have  the  spring  , 
of  joy  within  you.  ] 

That  which  £»-ives  full  joy  to  the  soul,  must , 
be  something  that  is  higlier  and  better  than 
itself.    In  a  word,  he  who  made  it,  can  alone 
make  it  glad  after  this  manner,  with  vnsppnl-- 
able  and  glorious  joy.    But  the  soul,  while 
remaininir  guilty  of  rebellion  against  him, 
and  unreconciled,  can  not  behold  him  but  as 
an  enemy  ;  any  belief  that  it  can  have  of  him 
while  it  is  in  that  posture,  is  not  such  as  can 
fetch  love,  and  hope,  and  sc  rejoicimr,  but  i 
what  the  faith  of  devils  ptoduceth,  only  be- 
getting terror  and  trembling.    But  the  light 
of  his  counienance,  shining  in  the  face  of  his 
Son  the  Mediator,  gladdens  the  heart ;  and  it  j 
is  the  looking  upon  him  so  that  causeth  the  ; 
soul  to  hehere,  and  love,  and  hope,  and  rejoice.  I 
Therefore  the  apostle,  in  his  description  of  the 
estate  of  the  (reii  tiles  before  Christ  was  preach- 
ed to  them,  Eph.  ii.,  joins  these  tosjetber : ! 
Without  Christ — that  was  the  cause  of  all  the  I 
rest — therefore,  without  comfort  in  the  protni- 
■€S,  « ithout  hope,  and  u-ilhoul  God  in  the 


world.  So  he  is  here  by  our  apostle  express- 
ed, as  the  object.  In  all  these,  therefore,  he 
is  the  matter  of  our  joy,  because  our  faith, 
and  love,  and  hope  of  salvation,  do  centre  in 
him. 

The  apostle  writing  to  the  dispersed  Jews, 
many  of  whom  had  not  known  or  seen  Chrisi 
in  the  flesh,  commends  their  love  and  faith, 
for  this  reason,  that  it  did  not  depend  upon 
bodily  sight,  but  was  pure,  and  spiritual,  and 
made  them  of  the  number  of  those  whom  cur 
Savior  himself  pronounces  blessed,  vho  have 
not  seen,  and  yet  believe.  You  saw  him  not 
when  he  dwelt  among  men,  and  walked  to 
and  fro,  preaching  and  working  miracles. 
Many  of  those  who  did  then  hear  and  see 
him  believed  not  ;  yea,  they  scotl'cd,  and  ha- 
ted, and  persecuted  him,  and  in  the  end  cru- 
cified him  ;  you  have  seen  none  ol'  all  those 
things,  yet  having  heard  the  gospel  which 
declares  him,  you  have  believed. 

Thus  observe,  the  Working  or  not  working 
of  faith  doth  not  depend  upon  the  difference 
of  the  external  ministry  and  gifts  of  men; 
for  what  greater  difference  can  there  be  that 
way  than  betwixt  the  master  and  the  ser- 
vants, betwixt  the  great  prophet  himself  and 
his  weak  sinful  messengers  ?  and  yet  many 
of  those  who  saw  and  heard  him  in  person 
were  not  converted,  believed  not  in  him  :  and 
thousands  who  never  saw  him  were  convert- 
ed by  his  apostles,  and,  as  it  seems,  even 
some  of  those  tvho  were  some  way  accessory 
to  his  death,  yet  were  brought  to  repentance 
by  this  same  ai)ostle's  sermon.    See  Acts  ii. 

Jjcarn,  then,  to  look  above  the  outward 
ministry,  and  any  dilVerence  that  in'  God's 
dispensation  can  be  there  ;  and  know,  that  if 
Jesus  Christ  himself  were  on  earth,  and  now 
preaching  among  us,  yet  might  his  incom- 
parable words  be  unprofitable  to  us,  not  be- 
ing mixed  with  faith  in  the  hearers.  But 
where  that  is,  the  meanest  and  the  most  des- 
picable conveyance  of  his  message,  received 
with  humility  and  affection,  will  work  bless- 
ed effects. 

Whom  not  seeing,  yet  believino.']  Faith 
elevates  the  soul  not  only  above  sense,  and 
sensible  things,  but  above  reason  itself.  As 
reason  corrects  the  errors  which  sense  might 
occasion,  so,  supernatural  faith  corrects  the 
errors  of  natural  reason,  judging  according 
to  sense. 

The  sun  seems  less  than  the  wheel  of  a 
chariot,  but  reason  teaches  the  philosopher, 
that  it  is  much  bigger  than  the  whole  earth, 
and  the  cause  that  ^it  seems  so  little,  is  its 
great  distance.  The  naturally  wise  man  is 
equally  deceived  by  this  carnal  reason,  in  his 
estimate  of  Jesus  Christ  the  Sun  of  Rii^hleoits- 
ness,and  the  cause  is  ihe  same,  his  great  dis- 
tance from  him  :  as  the  psalmist  speaks  of 
the  wicked,  Psal.  x.  5,  Thy  judi^nnents  are 
far  above  out  of  his  sii^ht.  He  accounts 
Christ  and  his  glory  a  smaller  matter  than 
his  own  irain,  honor,  or  pleasure:  for  these 
arc  near  him,  and  he  sees  their  quantity  to 


Ver.  8.  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


89 


the  full,  and  counts  them  bigger,  yea,  far 
more  worth  than  they  are  indeed.  But  the 
apostle  St.  Paul,  and  all  who  are  enlightened 
by  the  same  spirit,  they  know  by  faith,  which 
is  divine  reason,  that  the  excellency  of  Jesus 
Christ  far  surpasses  the  worth  of  the  whole 
earth,  and  all  things  earthly.    Phil.  iii.  7,  8. 

To  give  a  right  assent  to  the  gospel  of 
Christ  is  impossible,  without  d'vine  and  sa- 
ving faith  infused  in  the  soul  To  believe 
that  the  eternal  son  of  God  clol-ried  himself 
ivith  human  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  meit  in 
a  tabernacle  like  theirs,  and  sulTered  death 
in  the  flesh  :  that  be  who  was  Lord  of  life, 
hath  freed  us  from  the  sentence  of  eternal 
death;  that  he  broke  the  bars  and  chains  of 
death  and  rose  again;  that  he  went  up  into 
Heaven,  and  there  at  the  Father's  right  hand 
sits  in  our  flesh,  and  that  glorified  above  the 
angels;  this  is  the  qreat  mystery  of  godli- 
ness. And  a  part  of  this  mystery  is,  that  he 
is  believed  on  in  the  world.  1  Tim.  ii.  16. 
This  natural  men  may  discourse  of,  and  that 
very  knowingly,  and  give  a  kind  of  natural 
credit  to  it,  as  to  a  history  that  may  be  true  ; 
but  firmly  to  believe  that  there  is  divine 
truth  in  all  these  things,  and  to  have  a  per- 
suasion of  it  stronger  than  of  the  very  thiiijrs 
we  see  with  our  eyes — such  an  assent  as  this 
is  the  peculiar  work  of  the  spirit  of  God,  and 
is  certainly  saving  faith. 

The  soul  that  so  believes  can  not  choose  but 
love.  It  is  commonly  true,  that  the  eye  is 
the  ordinary  door  by  which  love  enters' into 
the  soul,  and  it  is  true  in  respect  of  this  love  ; 
though  It  is  denied  of  the  eye  of  sense,  yet 
(you  see)  it  is  ascribed  to  the  eye  of  faith, 
though  you  have  not  seen  him,  you  love  him, 
because  you  believe:  which  is  to  see  him 
spiritually.  Faith,  indeed,  is  distinguished 
from  that  vision  whicii  sliall  be  in  glory  ; 
but  it  is  the  vision  of  the  kingdom  of  grace, 
it  is  the  eye  of  the  new  creature,  that  quick- 
sighted  eye  which  pierces  all  the  visible 
heavens,  and  sees  above  them  ;  which  looks 
to  things  that  arg  not  seen,  2  Cor.  iv.  18,  and 
is  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen,  Heb.  xi.  1, 
and  sees  him  who  is  invisible,  ver.  27.  It  is 
possible  that  a  person  may  be  much  beloved 
upon  the  report  of  his  worth  and  virtues,  and 
upon  a  picmre  of  him  lively  drawn,  before 
sight  of  the  i)arty  so  coinmeiuled  and  repre- 
sented ;  but  certainly  wlieti  he  is  seen,  and 
found  answerable  to  the  loriner,  it  raises  the 
affection  already  begun  to  a  far  greater  I  eight. 
We  have  the  report  of  the  perfections  of  Jesus 
Christ  ill  the  gospel ;  yea,  so  clt-ar  a  descrip- 
tion of  him,  that  it  gives  a  picture  of  him, 
and  that,  together  with  the  sacraments,  is 
the  only  lawful,  and  the  only  lively  picture 
of  our  Savior.  Gal.  iii.  1.  Now  faith  be- 
lieves this  report,  and  behr)lds  this  picture, 
and  so  lets  in  the  love  of  Christ  to  the  soul. 
But  further,  ii  gives  a  particular  experimen- 
tal knowledge  of  Christ  and  acquaintance 
with  him;  it  causes  ihe  soul  to  find  all  that 
IK  spoken  of  him  in  the  word,  and  his  beauty 
12 


there  represented,  to  be  abundantly  true: 
makes  it  really  taste  of  his  sweetness,  and 
by  that  possesses  the  heart  more  strongly 
with  his  love,  persuading  it  of  the  truth  of 
those  things,  not  by  reasons  and  arguments, 
but  by  an  inexpressible  kind  of  evidence, 
which  they  only  know  who  have  it.  Faith 
persuades  a  Christian  of  these  two  things 
which  the  philosopher  gives  as  the  causes  of 
all  love,  beauty  and  propriety,  the  loveliness 
of  Christ  in  himself,  and  our  interest  in  him. 

The  former  it  effectuates  not  only  by  the 
first  apprehending  and  believing  of  those  his 
excellences  and  beauty,  but  by  frequent  be- 
holding of  him,  and  eying  him  in  whom  all 
perfection  dwells  ;  and  it  looks  so  oft  on  him, 
till  it  sets  the  very  impression  of  his  image 
(as  it  were)  upon  the  soul,  so  that  it  can  never 
be  blotted  out  and  forgotten.  The  latter  it 
doth  by  that  particular  uniting  act  which 
makes  him  our  God  and  our  Savior. 

Ye  love.]  The  distinctions  which  ome 
make  in  love,  need  not  be  taken  as  imp  rting 
different  kinds,  but  different  actings  of  the 
same  love,  by  which  Ave  may  try  our  so  much 
pretended  love  of  Christ,  which  in  truth  is  so 
rarely  found.  There  will  then  be  in  this 
love,  if  it  be  genuine,  these  three  qualities, 
good-will,  delight,  and  desire. 

1st.  Good-will,  earnest  wishing,  and  (as  we 
can)  promoting  God's  glory,  and  stirring  up 
others  so  to  do.  They  who  seek  more  their 
own  things  than  the  things  of  Jesus  Christ, 
more  their  own  praise  and  esteem  than  his, 
are  strangers  to  this  divine  love  :  for  she  seeks 
not  her  own  things.  The  bitter  root  of  self- 
love  is  most  hard  to  pluck  up  ;  this  strt)ngest 
and  sweetest  love  of  Christ  alone  doth  it  ac- 
tually though  gradually.  This  love  makes 
the  soul  like  the  lower  heaven,  slow  in  its 
own  motion,  most  swift  in  the  motion  of  that 
first  which  wheels  it  about ;  so,  the  higher 
degree  of  love  the  more  swift.  It  loves  the 
hardest  tasks  and  greatest  difliculties,  where 
it  may  perform  God  service,  either  iu  doing 
or  in  suffering  for  him.  It  is  strong  as  death, 
and  many  waters  can  not  (juench  it.  Eccles. 
viii.  6,  7.  The  greater  the  task  is,  the  more 
real  are  the  testimony  and  expression  of  love, 
and  therefore  the  more  acceptable  to  God. 

2dli/.  There  is  in  true  love,  a  complacency 
and  delight  in  God  ;  a  conformity  to  his  will  ; 
a  loving  what  he  loves:  it  is  studious  of  his 
will,  ever  seeking  to  know  more  clearly  what 
it  is  that  is  most  pleasing  to  him,  contracting 
a  likeness  to  God  in  all  his  actions,  by  con- 
versing with  him,  by  frequent  contemplation 
of  G(jd,  and  looking  on  his  beauty.  As  the 
eye  lets  in  this  aflTection,  so  it  serves  it  con- 
stantly, and  readily  looks  that  way  which 
love  directs  it.  Thus  the  soul  possessed  with 
this  love  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  soul  which  hath 
its  eye  much  upon  him,  often  thinking  on  his 
former  sufferings  and  present  glory,  the  more 
it  looks  upon  Christ,  the  more  it  loves;  and 
still  the  more  it  loves,  the  mo^e  it  delights  to 
look  upon  him. 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap 


'iifUj.  Tlipre  is  in  true  love  a  desire  ;  for  it 
is  but  small  bi'iiinniiiiis  and  tastes  of  his 
coodncss  wliieli  the  soul  hath  here;  tiiere- 
tore  it  is  still  lookinc;  out  and  longing  for  the 
day  of  marriage.  The  lime  is  sad  and  wea- 
risome, and  seems  much  longer  than  it  is, 
while  it  is  detained  here.  /  desire  to  fie  dis- 
solved (saith  St.  Paul)  and  to  be  with  Christ. 
Phil.  i.  23. 

God  is  the  sum  of  all  things  lovely.  Thus 
excellenlly  Gregory  Nazianzen  expresseth 
himself,  Orat.  1.  "  If  I  have  any  possessions, 
health,  credit,  learning,  this  is  all  the  con- 
tentment I  have  of  them,  that  I  have  some- 
what I  may  despise  for  Christ,  Avho  is  totus 
desideralnfis,  el  loliun  desiderahile  (the  all- 
desirable  one,  the  everything  desirable)." 
And  this  love  is  the  sum  of  all  he  requires 
of  us  ;  it  is  that  which  makes  all  our  mean- 
est services  acceptable,  and  without  which 
all  we  otier  to  him  is  distasteful.  God  doth 
deserve  our  love,  not  only  by  his  matchless 
excellency  and  beauty,  but  by  his  matchless 
love  to  us,  and  that  is  the  strongest  loadstone 
of  love.  He  hath  laved  me,  saith  the  apostle. 
Gal.  ii.  20.  How  appears  that  ?  In  no  less 
than  this.  He  hath  given  himself  for  me. 
Certainly,  then,  there  is  no  clearer  character 
of  our  l6ve  than  this,  to  give  ourselves  to 
him  who  hath  so  loved  us,  and  given  him- 
self for  us. 

This  affection  must  be  bestowed  some- 
where: there  is  no  man  but  hath  some  prime 
choice,  somewhat  that  is  the  predominant 
delight  of  his  soul  ;  will  it  not  then  be  our 
wisdom  to  make  the  worthiest  choice  ?  see- 
ing it  is  offered  us,  it  is  extreme  folly  to  re- 
ject it. 

Grace  doth  not  pluck  up  by  the  roots  and 
wholly  destroy  the  natural  passions  of  the 
mind,  because  they  are  distemjiered  by  sin! 
that  were  an  extreme  remedy  to  cure  by  kil- 
ling, and  heal  by  cutting  off;  no,  but  it  cor- 
rects the  distemper  in  them  ;  it  dries  not  up 
this  main  stream  of  love,  but  purifies  it  from 
the  mud  which  it  is  full  of  in  its  wrong 
course,  or  turns  it  into  its  right  channel,  by 
which  it  may  run  into  happiness,  and  empty 
itself  into  the  ocean  oi'  goodness.  The  Holy 
Spirit  turns  the  love  of  the  soul  toward  God 
in  Christ,  for  in  that  way  only  can  it  appre- 
hend his  love  ;  so  then  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
first  object  of  this  divine  love ;  he  is  medium 
unionis,  through  whom  God  conveys  the 
sense  of  his  love  to  the  soul,  and  receives 
back  its  love  to  himself. 

And  if  we  will  consider  his  incomparable 
beauty,  we  may  look  on  it  in  the  Holy  Scrij)- 
tures,  particularly  in  that  divine  song  of 
loves,  wherein  Solomon  })orrt>ws  all  the  beau- 
ties of  the  creatures,  dips  his  i)encil  in  all  their 
several  excellences,  to  set  him  forth  imio  us, 
who  is  the  chief  of  ten  thousands.  There  is 
an  inscparalile  intermixture  of  love  with  be- 
lief and  a  pious  affection,  in  receiving  di- 
vine truth  ;  so  that  in  effeci,  as  we  distin- 
guish them,  they  are  mutually  strengthened, 


the  one  by  the  other,  and  so,  though  it  scent 
a  circle,  it  is  a  divine  one,  and  falls  not  un- 
der censure  of  the  school's  pedantry.  If  jou 
ask.  How  shall  I  do  to  love  ?  I  answer,  be- 
lieve. If  you  ask.  How  shall  I  believe  ?  I  an- 
swer, love.  Although  the  expressions  to  a 
carnal  mind  are  altogether  unsavory,  by 
grossly  mistaking  them,  yet,  to  a  soul  taught 
to  read  and  hear  them,  by  any  measure  of 
that  same  sjurii  of  love  wherewith  they  were 
j)eimed,  they  are  full  of  heavenly  and  unut- 
terable sweetness. 

Many  directions  as  to  the  means  of  beget- 
ting and  increasing  this  love  of  Christ  may 
be  here  offered,  and  they  who  delight  in 
number  may  multiply  them  ;  but  surely  this 
one  will  comprehend  the  greatest  and  best 
part,  if  not  all  of  them  ;  believe,  and  you 
shall  lore  ;  believe  much,  and  you  shall  love 
much;  labor  for  strong  and  deep  persuasions 
of  the  glorious  things  which  are  spoken  of 
Christ,  and  this  will  command  love.  Cer- 
tainly, did  men  indeed  believe  his  worth,  they 
would  accordingly  love  him  ;  for  the  reason- 
able creature  can  not  but  affect  that  most 
Avhich  it  firmly  believes  to  be  worthiest  of 
affection.  0  !  this  mischievous  unbelief  is 
that  which  makes  the  heart  cold  and  dead 
toward  God.  Seek  then  to  bf'ieve  Christ's 
excellency  in  himself,  and  his  kve  to  us,  and 
our  interest  in  him,  and  this  will  kindle  such 
a  fire  in  the  heart,  as  will  make  it  ascend  in 
a  sacriffce  of  love  lo  him. 

The  signs  likewise  of  this  love  may  be 
multiplied  according  to  the  many  fruits  and 
workings  of  it :  but  in  them  all,  itself  is  its 
own  most  infallible  evidence.  When  the 
soul  finds  that  all  its  obedience  and  endeavor 
to  keep  the  commands  of  Jesus  Clirist,  which 
himself  makes  its  character,  do  flow  from 
love,  then  it  is  tiue  and  sincere:  for  door 
suffer  what  you  will,  without  love  all  passes 
for  nothing  ;  all  are  ciphers  without  it,  they 
signify  nothing.    1  Cor.  xiii. 

This  is  the  message  of  the  gospel,  and  that 
which  the  ministry  aims  aU;  and  therefore 
the  ministers  ought  to  be  suiters,  not  for 
themselves,  but  for  Christ,  to  espouse  souls 
to  him,  and  to  bring  in  many  hearts  to  love 
him.  And  certainly,  this  is  the  most  com- 
pendious way  to  persuade  to  all  other  Chris- 

!  tian  duties,  for  this  is  to  converse  with  Jesus 

I  Christ,  and  where  his  love  is,  no  other  incen- 
tive will  be  needful  ;  for  love  delights  in  the 

j  presence  and  converse  of  the  party  loved.  If 
we  are  to  persuade  to  duties  of  the  second 
table,  the  sum  of  those  is,  love  to  our  breth- 

]  ren,  resulting  from  the  love  of  Christ,  which 
diffuscth  such  a  sweetness  into  the  soul,  that 

]  it  is  all  love,  and  meekness,  and  gentleness, 

I  and  long  suffering. 

If  times  be  for  suffering,  love  will  make 

!  the  soul  not  only  bear,  but  welcome  the  bit- 
terest  afflictions  of  life,  and  the  hardest  kinds 
of  death  for  his  sake.  In  a  word,  there  is  in 
love  a  sweet  constraint,  or  tying  of  the  heart 
to  all  obedience  and  duty. 


Veb.  8,  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


9 


The  love  of  Goi  is  requisite  in  ministers 
*br  their  preaching  of  the  word  ;  so  our  Sa- 
vior to  St.  Peter,  John  xxi.  15,  Peter,  lovcst 
thou  me  ?  then  feed  my  lambs.  It  is  requisite 
for  the  people  that  they  receive  the  truth  in 
the  love  of  it,  and  that  Christ  preached  may 
be  entertained  in  the  soul,  and  embraced  by 
faitli  and  love. 

You  that  have  made  choice  of  Christ  for 
your  love,  let  not  your  hearts  sli^i  out,  to  re- 
new your  wonted  base  familiarity  with  sin  ; 
for  that  will  bring  new  bitterness  to  your 
souls,  and  at  least  for  some  time  deprive  yon 
of  the  sensible  favor  of  your  beloved  Jesus. 
Delight  always  in  God,  and  give  him  your 
whole  heart ;  for  he  deserves  it  all,  and  is  a 
satisfying  good  to  it.  The  largest  heart  is 
all  of  it  too  strait  for  the  riches  of  consola- 
tion which  he  brings  with  him.  Seek  to  in- 
crease in  this  love ;  and  thou2^h  it  is  at  first 
Weak,  yet  lal)or  to  find  it  daily  rise  higher, 
and  burn  hotter  and  clearer,  and  consume 
the  dross  of  earthly  desires. 

Receiving  the  end  of  ijour  faith.~\  Al- 
though the  soul  that  believes  and  loves,  is 
put  in  present  possession  of  God,  as  far  as  it 
IS  capable  in  its  sojourning  here,  yet  it  desires 
a  full  enjoyment,  which  it  can  not  attain  to 
without  removing  hence.  While  u  e  are  pres- 
ent in  the  hody,  we  are  absent  from  the  Lord, 
saith  the  apostle.  And  because  they  are  as- 
sured of  that  happy  exchange,  that  being 
untied  and  freed  of  this  body,  ihey  shall  be 
present  with  the  Lord,  having  his  own  word 
or  it,  that  where  he  is  Ihei/  shall  be  also;  this 
regets  such  an  assured  hdjje,  as  benrs  the 
r.  ame  of  possession.  Therefore  it  is  said  here, 
receiving  the  ejid  of  your  faith. 

This  receiving  likewise  flows  from  faith. 
Faith  apprehends  the  present  truth  of  the  di- 
vme  prumises,  and  so  makes  the  things  to 
come,  present  :  and  liope  looks  out  to  their 
after-accomplishment,  which,  if  the  prom- 
ises be  true,  as  faith  avers,  then  hope  hath 
good  reason  firmly  to  expect.  This  desire 
and  hope  are  the  very  wheels  of  the  soul 
which  carry  ii  on,  and  faith  is  the  common 
axis  on  wliich  they  rest. 

In  these  words  there  are  two  things: 
\.  The  good  hoped  fjr  in  Christ  so  believed 
on  and  loved  ;  2.  The  assuredness  cjf  the  hope 
itself:  yea,  it  is  as  sure  as  if  it  were  already 
accomplished. 

I.  as  for  the  good  hoped  for,  ii  consists, 
1.  In  the  nature  of  it,  viz.,  the  salvation  of 
their  soul  ;  2.  In  a  relative  property  of  it, 
the  end  of  their  faith. 

1st.  Tlie  nature  of  it  is,  salvation,  and  sal- 
vation of  the  snul :  it  imjxirts  full  deliver- 
ance from  all  kinds  of  rniserv,  and  the  safe 
possession  of  perfect  happiness,  when  the 
scul  shall  be  out  of  tl)e  read)  of  all  adversi- 
ties, and  adverse  accidents,  no  iriore  subject- 
ed to  those  evils  which  are  projx'riv  its  own, 
namely,  the  conscience  of  sin,  and  fear  of 
wrath  and  sad  defections  ;  nor  yet  subject  to 
those  other  evils  which  it  endured  by  soci- 


'  ety  with  the  body — outward  distresses  ant 
I  atiiiciions,  persecutions,  poverty,  diseases, &c 
It  is  called  salvation  of  the  soul :  not  ex- 
cluding the  body  from  the  society  of  that 
glory,  when  it  shall  be  raised  and  reunited  to 
the  soul  ;  but  because  the  soul  is  of  itself  an 
immortal  substance,  and  both  tlie  more  no- 
ble part  of  man,  and  the  prime  subject  both 
j  of  grace  and  glory,  and  because  it  arrives 
first  at  tliat  blessedness,  and  for  a  time  leaves 
I  the  body  in  the  dust  to  do  homage  to  its  ori- 
!  ginal  ;  therefore  it  is  alone  named  here.  But 
Jesus  is  the  Savior  of  the  body  too,  and  he 
shall,  at  his  coming,  change  our  vile  bodies, 
and  tnake  them  like  his  glorious  body. 

2dly.  We  have  the  relative  property  of 
this  hope, — the  end  of  your  faith,  tlie  end  or 
reward  ;  for  it  is  both.  It  is  the  end,  either 
at  which  faith  aims,  or  wherein  it  ceaseth. 
It  is  the  reward,  not  of  their  works,  nor  of 
faith,  as  a  work  deserving  it,  but  as  the  con- 
dition of  the  new  covenant,  which  God,  ac- 
cording to  the  tenor  of  that  covenant,  first 
works  in  his  own,  and  then  rewards  as  if  it 
w^ere  their  work.  And  this  salvation,  or  fru- 
ition of  Christ  is  the  proper  reward  of  I'aith, 
which  believes  in  him  unseen,  and  so  ob- 
i  tains  that  happy  sight.  It  is  the  proper 
I  work  of  faith  to  believe  what  thou  seest  not, 
and  the  reward  of  faith,  to  see  what  thou 
,  hast  believed. 

j     II.  This  is  the  certainty  of  their  hope,  that 
it  is  as  if  they  had  already  received  it.  If 
the  promise  of  God  and  the  merit  ol'  Christ 
hold  good,  then  they  who  believe  in  him, 
\  and  love  him,  are  made  sure  ol'  salvation. 
The  promises  of  God  in  Christ  are  not  yea 
and  nay.,  but  they  are  m  him  yea,  and  m  him 
amen.    Sooner  may  the  rivers  run  backward, 
and  the  course  of  the  heavens  change,  and 
the  frame  of  nature  be  dissolved,  than  any 
j  one  soul  that  is  united  to  Christ  Jesus  by 
faith  and  love,  can  be  severed  from  liiin,  and 
so  fall  short  of  the  salvation  hoped  for  in 
f  him  :  and  ihis  is  the  matter  of  their  rejoicing. 

Ye  rejoice  u-ilh  joy  unspeakable.]  The  nal-, 
Ural  man,  says  the  apostle,  receiveth  not  the 
things  of  (i(id,for  they  are  foolishness  unto 
him  ;  and  he  adds  the  reason  why  he  can 
not  know  theiiij  for  they  are  spiritualli/  dis- 
cerned, lie  hath  none  of  that  faculty  by 
which  they  are  discerned.  There  is  a  vast 
disjiroportion  betwixt  those  things  and  na- 
ture's highest  capacity  ;  it  can  not  work  be- 
yond Its  si)here.  Speak  to  the  natural  man, 
of  the  matter  of  spiritual  grief,  the  sense  of 
guiltiness,  and  the  apjjrehension  of  God's 
flispleasure,  or  the  hiding  of  his  favor  and 
the  light  of  his  countenance  from  the  soul  ; 
these  things  stir  not  him,  he  knows  not 
what  they  mean.  Speak  to  him  again  ol  the 
peace  of  conscience,  and  sense  of  God's  love, 
and  the  joy  that  arises  hence  :  he  is  no  less 
a  stranger  to  that.  Mourn  to  him,  and  hf  la' 
I  rnents  not  ;  pijie  to  him  and  he  drrncrs  not.  as 
lour  Savior  speaks,  Matt.  xi.  17.  P)U<  as  it 
I  there  follows,  vcr.  19,  there  is  a  wis'Jom  ia 


92 


A  COMMENTARy  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  1 


these  things,  thou<Th  they  seem  fully  and 
Donsense  to  the  I'uulish  world,  and  lliis  wis- 
dom IS  justiju  d  of  her  ou  /i  i  /ii/dren. 

Having  said  soniewliai  already  of  the  cau- 
ses of  this  spiritual  joy,  which  the  apostle 
here  speaks  of,  it  remains  that  we  consider 
these  two  things  ;  1.  How  joy  ariseth  from 
these  causes :  2.  The  excellency  of  this  joy, 
as  it  is  here  expressed. 

There  is  here  a  solid  sufficient  good,  and 
the  heart  made  sure  of  it,  being  partly  put 
in  present  possession  of  it,  and  having  a  most 
certain  liope  of  all  the  rest.  And  what 
more  can  be  required  to  make  it  joyful  ? 
Jesus  Christ,  the  treasure  of  all  blessings, 
received  and  united  to  the  soul,  by  faith,  and 
love,  and  hope  ! 

Is  not  Christ  the  light  and  joy  of  the  na- 
tions ?  such  a  light  as  Abraham,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  many  ages,  of  more  than  two  thou- 
sand years,  yet  saw  by  faith,  and  seeing,  re- 
joiced in.  Besides  this  brightness,  which 
makes  light  a  joyful  object,  light  is  often  in 
Scripture  put  for  joy.  Christ,  who  is  this 
light,  hrings  salvation  with  him:  he  is  the 
tun  of  righteousnrss,  and  there  is  healing  un- 
der his  icings.  I  bring  you,  said  the  angel, 
good  tidings  of  great  joy.  that  shall  be  to  all 
people.  And  their  song  hath  in  it  the  mat- 
ter of  that  joy.  Glory  lo  God  in  the  highest, 
peace  on  earih,  and  good-u-ill  totvard  men. 
Luke  ii.  10,  14. 

But  to  the  end  we  may  rejoice  in  Christ, 
we  must  find  him  ours  :  otherwise,  the  more 
excellent  he  is,  the  more  cause  hath  the 
heart  to  be  sad,  while  it  ha;h  no  portion  in 
him.  Aly  spirit  hath  rejoiced  (said  the  bless- 
ed Virgin)  m  God  my  Savior.    Luke  i.  47. 

Thus,  liaving  spoken  of  our  communion 
with  Clirist,  the  apostle  adds,  1  John  i.  7, 
These  things  I  write  that  yovrjoy  mny  be  full. 
Faith  worketh  this  joy  by  uniting  the  soul  to 
Christ,  and  ap])lying  his  merits,  from  the  ap- 
plication of  which  arises  the  pardon  of  sin  : 
and  so  that  load  of  misery,  which  was  the 
great  cause  of  sorrow,  is  removed :  and  so 
soon  as  the  soul  finds  itself  lightened  and 
unloaded  of  that  burden  which  was  sinking 
it  to  hell,  it  can  not  choose  but  leap  for  joy, 
in  the  ease  and  refreshment  it  finds.  There- 
fore that  Psalm  which  David  begins  with  the 
doctrine  of  the  pardon  of  sin,  he  ends  with 
an  exhortation  lo  rejoicing.  Blessed  is  the 
man  whose  transgression  is  forgiven,  tvhose 
gin  is  covered:  Psal.  xxxii.  1  :  thus  he  be- 
gins, but  he  ends,  Be  glad  in  the  Lord  and 
rejoice  ye  righteous,  and  shout  for  joy,  all 
ye  that  are  upi  I'jht  in  heart.  St.  Peter  speaks 
to  his  hearers  of  the  remission  of  sins,  Acts 
h.  38,  and  at  ver.  41,  it  is  added.  They  re- 
ceived his  words  gladly.  And  our  Savior 
joins  these  two  together.  Be  of  good  comfort, 
thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee.  Thus,  Isaiah 
Ixi.  1,  good  tidings  of  liberty  to  captives  are 
proclaimed,-and  a  notable  change  there  is  of 
♦heir  estate  who  mourn  in  Zion,  skiving  them 
htavty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  \ 


and  the  garment  of  praise  for  the  Spirit  of 
heaviness.  Think  with  what  joy  the  long- 
imprisoned  debtor  drowned  in  debt,  receives 
a  full  discharge,  and  his  liberty  :  or  a  con- 
dennied  malel'actor  the  news  of  his  pardon, 
and  this  will  somewhat  resemble  it,  but  yet 
fall  far  short  of  the  joy  which  faith  brings  by 
bringing  Christ  to  the  soul,  and  so  forgive- 
ness of  sins  in  him. 

But  this  i^not  all.  This  believing  soul  is 
not  only  a  debtor  acquitted  and  set  free,  but 
enriched  besides  with  a  new  and  great  estate  ; 
not  only  a  pardoned  malefactor,  but  withal 
highly  preferred  and  advanced  to  honor,  hav- 
ing a  right,  by  the  promises,  to  the  unsearch- 
able riches  of  Christ,  as  the  apostle  speaks, 
and  is  received  into  favor  with  God,  and  unto 
the  dignity  of  sonship,  taken  from  the  dung- 
hill, and  set  with  princes.    Psal.  cxiii.  8. 

As  there  is  joy  from  faith,  sp  also  from  love 
Though  this  is  in  itself  the  most  sweet  and 
delightful  passion  of  the  soul,  yet,  as  we  fool- 
ishly misplace  it,  it  proveth  often  full  of  bit- 
terness ;  but  being  set  upon  Jesus  Christ,  the 
only  right  and  worthy  object,  it  causeth  this 
unspeakable  delight  and  rejoicing. 

First,  It  is  matter  of  joy  to  have  bestowed 
our  love  so  worthily.  When  our  Savior  seems 
to  withdraw  himself,  and  sometimes  saddens 
the  soul  that  loves  him,  with  absences,  in  re- 
gard of  sense,  yet  even  in  those  sad  times, 
the  soul  delights  to  love  him,  and  there  is  a 
pleasure  in  the  very  pains  it  hath  in  seeking 
after  him.  And  this  it  knows,  that  his  mer- 
cies are  everlasting,  and  that  he  can  not  be 
long  unkind,  but  will  return  and  speak  com- 
fortably unto  it. 

Secondly,  Our  love  to  Christ  gives  us  as- 
surance of  his  to  us,  so  that  we  have  not  only 
chosen  worthily,  but  shall  not  be  frustrated 
and  disappointed  ;  and  it  assures  us  of  his, 
not  as  following,  but  as  preceding  and  causing 
ours ;  for  our  love  to  Jesus  Christ  is  no  other 
than  the  reflex  of  his  on  us.  Wine  maketh 
glad  the  heart,  but  thy  lore  is  better  than  wine, 
saith  the  Spouse.  And  having  this  persua- 
sion, that  he  hath  loved  us  and  washed  us  in 
his  blond,  and  forgets  us  not  in  our  conflicts ; 
that  though  he  himself  is  in  his  glory,  yet 
that  he  intercedes  for  us  there,  and  will  bring 
us  thither,  what  condition  can  befall  us  so 
hard,  but  we  may  rejoice  in  it,  and  in  them, 
so  far  as  we  are  sure  to  arrive  at  that  full 
salvation  and  the  fruition  of  him  who  hath 
purchased  it  ? 

Then  there  is  the  third  cause  of  our  re- 
joicing, viz.,  our  hope.  Now  hope  is  our 
anchor  fixed  within  the  veil,  which  stays  us 
against  all  the  storms  that  beat  upon  us  in 
this  troublesome  sea  that  we  are  tossed  upoi» 
The  soul  which  strongly  believes  and  loves, 
may  confidently  hope  to  see  what  it  believes, 
and  to  enjoy  what  it  loves,  and  in  that  it  may 
rejoice.  It  may  say,  whatsoever  hazards, 
wiiether  outward  or  inward,  whatsoever  af- 
flictions and  temptations  I  endure,  yet  this 
one  thing  puts  me  out  of  hazard,  and  iu  that 


/ER.  8,  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


93 


[  will  rejoice,  that  the  salvation  of  my  soul 
depends  not  upon  my  own  strength,  but  is  in 
my  Savior's  hand :  Mi/  life  is  lad  with  Christ 
in  God  :  and  when  he  who  is  my  life  shall  ap- 
pear, I  likewise  shall  appear  with  him  in  glory. 
The  childish  world  are  hunting  shadows,  and 
gaping  and  hoping  after  they  know  not  what ; 
but  the  believer  can  say,  I  know  whom  I  have 
trusted,  and  am  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to 
keep  that  which  I  have  committed  to  him 
against  that  day.  Now  we  mvist  have  not 
only  a  right  to  these  things,  but  withal  there 
must  be  frequent  consideration  of  them  to 
produce  joy.  The  soul  must  often  view 
them,  and  so  rejoice.  My  meditation  of  him 
shall  be  sweet,  saith  David.  J  will  be  glad  in 
the  Lord,  Psal.  civ.  34.  The  godly,  failing 
in  this,  deprive  themselves  of  much  of  that 
joy  they  might  have  ;  and  they  who  are 
most  in  these  sublime  thoughts  have  the 
highest  and  truest  joy. 

The  excellency  of  this  joy,  theapostle  here 
expresseth  by  these  two  words,  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory. 

That  it  is  unspeakable,  no  wonder,  seeing 
the  matter  of  it  is  inconceivable  ;  it  is  an  in- 
finite good.  God  reconciled  in  Jesus  Christ, 
and  testifying  and  sealing  his  love  unto  the 
soul,  and  giving  assured  hope  of  that  blessed 
vision  of  eternity, — what  more  unspeakable 
than  this?  And  for  the  same  reason  it  is 
glorious,  or  glorified  joy,  having  the  highest 
and  most  glorious  object ;  for  it  derives  all  its 
excellency  thence. 

Unspeakable.']  The  best  worldly  joys  are 
easily  spcakable  ;  they  may  be  expressed  to 
the  utmost,  yea,  usually  more  is  spoken  of 
them  than  they  are  indeed.  Their  name  is 
beyond  their  worth  ;  they  are  very  seldom 
found,  upon  experience,  equal  to  the  opinion 
and  expectation  that  men  have  of  them.  But 
this  spiritual  joy  is  above  the  report  any  can 
can  make  of  it ;  say  what  they  can  of  it  who 
are  of  happiest  expression,  yet  when  a  man 
comes  to  know  it  in  his  own  breast,  he  will 
say  (as  that  queen  said  of  Solomon's  wisdom), 
the  half  was  not  told  me  of  it  .' 

Again,  earthly  joys  are  inglorious;  many 
of  which  men  are  ashamed  of,  and  those  that 
seem  most  plausible,  yet  are  below  the  ex- 
cellency of  the  soul,  and  can  not  fill  it  ;  but 
the  joys  which  arise  from  union  with  Christ, 
as  they  are  most  avowable,  a  man  needs  not 
blush  lo  own  them,— so  they  are  truly  con- 
tenting and  satisfying,  and  that  is  their  glory, 
and  the  cause  why  we  may  glory  in  them. 
My  soul  shall  make  her  boast  in  God,  says 
David.    Psal.  xxxiv.  2. 

For  application  of  all  this.  If  these  things 
were  believed,  we  should  hearken  no  i^ore  to 
the  foolish  prejudice  which  the  world  hath 
taken  up  against  religion,  and  wherewith 
Satan  endeavors  to  possess  men's  hearts,  that 
they  may  be  scared  from  the  ways  of  holi- 
ness:  they  think  it  a  sour,  melancholy  life, 
which  hath  nothing  but  sadness  and  moum- 
mg  in  it.    But,  to  remove  this  prejudice. 


Consider  1.  Religion  debars  not  from  the 
lawful  delights  which  are  taken  in  natural 
things,  but  teaches  the  moderate  and  regular 
use  of  them,  which  is  I'ar  the  sweeter ;  for 
things  lawful  in  themselves  are  in  their  ex 
cess  sinful,  and  so  prove  bitterness  in  the 
end.  And  if  in  some  cases  it  requires  the 
forsaking  of  lawful  enjoyments,  as  of  pleas- 
ure, or  profits,  or  honor,  for  God  and  for  his 
glory,  it  is  generous  and  more  truly  delight- 
ful to  deny  them  for  this  reason,  than  to 
enjoy  them.  Men  have  done  much  this  way 
for  the  love  of  their  country,  and  by  a  princi- 
ple of  moral  virtue  ;  but  to  lose  any  delight, 
or  to  suffer  any  hardship  for  that  highest  end 
— the  glory  of  God,  and  by  the  strength  of 
love  to  him,  is  far  more  excellent,  and  truly 
pleasant. 

2.  The  delights  and  pleasures  of  sin,  reli 
gion  indeed  banishes,  but  it  is  to  change  theci 
for  this  joy  that  is  unspeakably  beyond  them. 
It  calls  men  from  sordid  and  base  delights  to 
those  that  are  pure  delights  indeed  :  ic  calls 
to  men.  Drink  ye  no  longer  of  the  iddle, 
here  are  the  crystal  streams  of  a  living  foun- 
tain. There  is  a  delight  in  the  very  de- 
spising of  impure  delights;  as  St.  Augustine 
exclaims,  Quam  suave  est  istis  suavitatibus 
carere .'  How  pleasant  is  it  to  want  these 
pleasures .'  But  for  such  a  change,  to  have 
in  their  stead  such  delights,  as  that  in  com- 
parison the  other  deserve  not  the  name  ;  to 
have  such  spiritual  joy  as  shall  end  in  eternal 
joy  ;  it  is  a  wonder  we  hasten  not  all  to 
choose  this  joy,  but  it  is  indeed  because  we 
believe  it  not. 

3.  It  is  true,  the  godly  are  subject  to  great 
distresses  and  afflictions  ;  but  their  joy  is  not 
extinguished  by  them,  no,  nor  diminished 
neither,  but  often  sensibly  increased.  When 
they  have  least  of  the  world's  joy,  they 
abound  most  in  spiritual  consolations,  and 
then  relish  them  best.  Thev  find  them  sweet- 
est, when  their  taste  is  not  depraved  by  earth- 
ly enjoyments.  We  rejoice  in  tribulation, 
says  St.  Paul :  and  here  our  apostle  insists 
on  that,  to  verify  the  substance  of  this  joy  in 
the  midst  of  the  greatest  afilictions. 

■1.  Spiritunl  grief,  v.  hicli  seems  most  oppo- 
site to  this  spiritual  joy,  excludeth  it  not,  for 
there  is  a  secret  delight  and  sweetness  in  the 
tears  of  repentance,  a  balm  in  them  ihat  re- 
freshes the  soul ;  and  even  their  saddest  kind 
of  mourning,  viz.,  the  dark  times  of  deser- 
tion, hath  this  in  it,  which  is  someway  sweet, 
that  those  mournings  after  their  beloved,  who 
absents  himself,  are  a  mark  of  their  love  to 
him,  and  a  true  evidence  of  it.  And  then  all 
these  spiritual  sorrows,  of  what  nature  so- 
ever,  are  turned  into  spiritual  joy  ;  that  is  the 
proper  end  of  them  ;  they  have  a  natural 
tendency  that  way. 

5.  But  the  natural  man  still  doubts  of  this 
joy  we  si)eak  of;  because  he  sees  and  hears 
so  little  of  it  from  them  who  profess  to  have 
it,  and  seem  to  have  the  best  right  to  it.  If 
we  consider  the  wretchedness  of  this  life,  and 


M 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Ciur.  I. 


especially  the  abundance  of  sin  that  is  in  the 
World,  what  wonder  though  tliis  their  joy  re- 
tire mucii  inward,  and  appear  little  abroad, 
where  all  things  are  so  contrary  lo  it,  and  so 
far  are  capable  of  it,  to  whom  it  were  perti- 
nent to  vent  it  ?  Again,  we  see  here,  it  is 
unspeakable ;  it  were  a  poor  thing  if  he  that 
hath  it  cuuld  tell  it  all  out.  I'auperis  est 
numerare  picus.  And  when  the  suul  hath 
most  of  it,  then  it  remains  most  within  itself, 
and  is  so  inwardly  taken  up  with  it,  that  pos- 
isibly  it  can  then  least  of  all  express  it.  It  is 
with  joys,  as  they  say  of  cares  and  griefs, 
Leves  lixjuunlur  iif^eiites  slupent.  The  deep- 
est waiers  run  s.illest.  Res  severa  est  veruin 
gaudiuin,  says  Seneca.  True  joy  is  a  solid, 
grave  thing,  dwells  more  in  the  heart  than 
in  the  cou.iienance :  whereas,  on  the  con- 
trary, base  and  false  joys  are  but  superficial, 
skin-deep  (as  we  say) :  they  are  all  in  the 
face. 

Think  not  that  it  is  with  the  godly,  as  the 
prophet  says  of  the  wicked,  ihai  there  is  no 
•peace  to  them.  The  Seplwiginl  reads  it,  no 
joy  ;  certainly  it  is  true  ;  there  is  no  true  joy 
to  the  wicked:  they  may  revel  and  make  a 
noise,  but  they  rejoice  not ;  The  laughter  of 
the  fool  is  as  the  crackling  of  thorns  under 
the  pot,  a  great  noise  but  little  heat,  and  soon 
at  an  end.  There  is  no  continuing  feast,  but 
that  of  a  good  conscience.  Wickedness  and 
real  joy  can  not  dwell  together,  as  the  very 
moralist  Seneca  haih  it  often,  and  at  large. 
But  he  that  can  say,  The  righteousness  of 
Jesus  Christ  is  mine,  and  in  him  the  favor  of 
God,  and  the  hope  of  eternal  happiness,  hath 
such  a  light  as  can  shine  in  the  darkest  dun- 
geon, yea,  in  the  dark  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death  itself. 

Say  not  ihou,  If  I  betake  myself  to  the 
way  of  CTodliness,  I  must  did  farewell  to  glad- 
ness, never  a  merry  day  more  ;  no,  on  tht- 
contrary,  never  a  truly  joyful  day  till  then, 
yea,  no  days  at  all,  but  night  to  the  soul,  till 
it  entertain  Jesus  Christ  and  his  kingdom, 
which  consists  in  righteousness,  peace,  and 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  Thou  dost  not  sacri- 
fi.-e  Isaac,  which  signifies  laughter  (as  St. 
Bernard  lias  it),  but  a  ram  ;  not  your  joy,  but 
filthy  sinful  delights  which  end  in  sorrow. 

Oh  I  seek  to  know  in  your  experience  what 
those  joys  mean  ;  for  all  describing  and  com- 
mending them  to  you  will  not  make  you  un- 
derstand them  ;  but  taste,  and  see  that  the 
Lord  is  good  ;  Lauda  mellis  dulcedmem  (juan- 
turn  poles,  ijui  non  gustaverit,  non  intelliget, 
says  Augustine  ;  Praise  the  sweetness  of  honey 
to  the  utmost,  he  xeho  has  never  tasted  it,  can 
not  understand  tt.  You  can  not  see  and 
know  this  goodness,  but  by  tasting  it ;  and 
having  tasted  it,  all  those  poor  joys  you 
thought  sweet  before,  will  then  be  bitter  and 
distasteful  to  you. 

And  you  that  have  Christ  yours  by  believ- 
ing, know  your  happiness,  and  rejoice,  and 
f?lory  in  it.  Whatsoever  is  your  outward 
condition,  rejoice  always,  and  again  J  say  re- 


joice, for  light  is  sown  to  the  righteous,  and 
gladness  J'or  the  upright  in  heart.  I'hil.  iv. 
4  ;  Psal.  xcvii.  11. 

Ver.  10.  Of  which  salvation  the  prophets  have  in- 
quired,  and  searched  diligently,  wlio  prophesied  of 
the  grace  that  should  come  unto  you. 

Vkk.  11.  Searching  what,  or  what  manner  of  time 
the  Spirit  of  C'lirist  which  was  in  them  did  signify 
when  he  testilied  beforehand  the  suli'erings  of 
Christ,  and  the  glory  that  shoidd  follow. 

Ver.  12.  Tnto  whom  it  was  revealed,  that  not  unto 
themselves,  hut  unto  us  they  did  minister  the  things 
which  are  now  reported  unto  you  by  tliem  lliat  have 
preached  the  gosjiel  unto  you,  with  the  Holy  (;host 
sent  down  from  heaven,  which  things  the  angels 
desire  to  look  into. 

It  is  the  ignorance,  or  at  least  the  incon- 
sideration  of  Divine  things,  that  makes  earth- 
ly things,  whether  good  or  evil,  appear  irreat 
in  our  eves  ;  therefore  the  apostle's  great  aim 
is,  by  representing  the  certainly  and  excel- 
lencv  of  the  belief  and  hope  of  Christians  to 
his  afflicted  brethren,  to  strengthen  their 
minds  against  all  discouragements  and  oppo- 
sitions ;  that  they  may  account  notiii.  ^  too 
hard  to  do  or  suffer  for  so  high  a  cause  and 
so  happy  an  end.  It  is  the  low  and  mean 
thoughts,  and  the  shallow  persuasion  we 
have  of  things  that  are  spiritual,  that  is  the 
cause  of  all  cur  remissness  and  coldness  in 
them.  The  doctrine  of  salvation,  mentioned 
in  the  former  verse  as  the  end  of  our  Chris- 
tian faith,  is  illustrated  in  these  words,  from 
its  antiquity,  dignity,  and  infallible  truth. 

It  is  no  modern  invention  :  for  the  prophets 
inquired  afier  it,  and  foretold  it  in  former 
ages  from  the  besrinnnig.  Thus  the  preju- 
dice of  novelty  is  removed,  which  usually 
meets  the  most  ancient  truth  in  its  new  dis- 
coveries. 

Again,  it  is  no  mean  thing  that  such  men 
as  were  of  unquestioned  eminency  in  wisdom 
and  holiness,  did  so  much  study  and  search 
after,  and  having  found  it  out,  were  careful 
not  onlv  to  publish  it  in  their  own  times,  but 
to  record  it  to  posterity  ;  and  this  not  by  the 
private  motion  of  their  own  spirits,  but  by 
the  acting  and  guidance  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ; 
which  likewise  sets  the  truth  of  their  testi- 
mony above  all  doubtfulness  and  uncertainty. 

Biit  taking  the  three  verses  entirely  to- 
gether, we  have  in  them  these  three  things, 
testifying  how  excellent  the  doctrine  of  the 
gospel  is.  1.  We  have  the  principal  author 
of  it.  2.  The  matter  of  it.  3.  The  worth 
of  those  who  are  exercised  about  it,  viz.,  the 
best  of  men,  the  prophets  and  apostles,  in 
administering  it,  and  the  best  of  all  the  crea- 
tures, the  angels,  in  admiring  it. 

1.  The  first  author  is  the  absolutely  first, 
Spirit  of  God  in  the  prophets,  ver.  11,  in  the 
apostles,  ver.  12.  But  the  Spirit  of  Christ, 
in  ver.  11,  is  the  same  spirit  that  he  sent 
do^vn  on  his  disciples  after  his  ascending  to 
glory,  and  which  spoke  in  his  proj)hets  be- 
fore his  descending  to  the  earth.  It  is  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  proceeding  jointly  from  him 
with  the  Father,  J. s  he  is  the  Son  of  God,  and 


Ver.  10—12.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


95 


dwelling  most  ridily  and  fully  in  him  as  the 
Son  of  man. 

The  Holy  Ghost  is  in  himself  holiness,  and 
the  source  and  %i  orker  of  holiness,  and  au- 
thor of  ihis  holy  doctrine  which  breathes 
nothing  but  holiness,  and  urges  it  most  pres- 
singly  upon  all  that  receive  it. 

This  is  tlie  very  life  of  divine  faith,  touch- 
ing the  mysteries  of  salvation,  firmly  to  be- 
lieve their  revelation  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 
This  the  word  itself  testifies,  as  we  see  ;  and 
It  is  really  manifest  in  it ;  he  carries  the  live- 
ly stamp  of  Divine  inspiration,  but  there  must 
be  a  spiritual  eye  to  discern  it.  He  that  is 
blind,  knows  not  that  the  sun  shines  at  noon, 
but  by  the  report  of  others  ;  but  they  that 
see,  are  assured  they  see  it,  and  assured  by 
no  other  thing  but  its  own  light.  To  ask 
one  who  is  a  true  believer,  How  know  you 
the  Scriptures  to  be  Divine  ?  is  the  same 
as  to  ask  him,  How  know  you  light  to  be 
light  ? 

The  soul  is  nothing  but  darkness  and  blind- 
ness within,  till  that  same  Spirit  that  shines 
■withtjUt  in  the  word,  shines  likewise  within 
it,  and  effectually  makes  it  light ;  but  that 
once  done,  then  is  the  word  read  with  some 
measure  of  the  same  spirit  by  which  it  was 
written,  and  the  soul  is  ascertained  that  it  is 
Divine;  as  in  bodily  sight,  there  must  be  a 
meeting  of  inward  light,  viz.,  the  visual  spir- 
its witli  the  outward  ohjecl. 

The  spirit  of  God  within,  brings  evidence 
with  it,  and  makes  itself  discernible  in  the 
word  :  this  all  arguments,  all  books  and  study, 
can  not  attain  unto.  It  is  given  to  believe, 
1  Phil.  i.  29. 

No  man  knows  the  things  of  a  man  but  the 
spirit  of  jnan,  1  C(jr.  ii.  11.  But  how  holds 
that  here  ?  For  if  a  man  speak  out  the 
things  that  are  in  his  spirit,  then  others  may 
know  them;  but  the  apostle's  aim  there,  is  to 
conclude  that  the  things  of  God,  even  such  as 
were  revealed  in  his  word,  could  not  be  known 
but  by  his  i;wii  Spirit  :  so  that  though  reveal- 
ed, yet  they  remain  still  unrevealed  till  the 
Spirit  teach  within,  as  well  as  without :  be- 
cause th<'y  are  intclligihie  by  none,  but  by 
those  who  are  the  private  scholars  and  hear- 
ers of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  author  of  them  ; 
and  because  there  are  so  few  of  these,  there- 
fore there  is  so  little  real  believing  amid  all 
the  noise  and  |)rofession  that  we  make  of  it. 
Who  is  there  (if  you  will  believe  them)  that 
believes  rnjt  ?  And  yet  truly  there  is  too 
much  cause  to  continue  the  prophet's  re- 
gret, Isaiah  liii.  1,  Who  hath  believed  our 
report  ? 

Learn  then  to  suspect  yourselves,  and  to 
find  out  your  own  unbelief,  that  you  may  de- 
sire this  Sy)irit  to  t-ach  you  inwardly  those 
great  mysteries  wliich  he  outwardly  reveals 
and  loaches  \iy  his  word.  Make  use  of  that 
promise,  and  press  the  Lord  with  it,  Thei/ 
shall  be  all  tnwrhtof  God,  Isaiah  liv.  13  ;  and 
Jolin  vi.  4.5. 

Bui,  II.  There  i?  here  the  matter  of  this 


I  doctrine,  which  we  have  in  three  several  ex- 
pressions, 1.  That  whicn  is  repeated  from 
the  foregoing  verse  ;  it  is  the  Doctrme  of 
Salvation,  that  is  the  end  of  it.  2.  The  Doc- 
trine of  the  sufferings  and  glory  of  Christ, 
as  the  means.  And  3.  The  Doctrine  of 
grace,  the  spring  of  both. 

1.  It  is  the  doctrine  of  solvation,  the  only 
true  doctrine  of  true  happiness,  which  the 
wisest  of  natural  men  have  groped  and 
sought  after  with  much  earnestness,  but  with 
no  success  ;  they  had  no  other  than  the  dark 

!  moonlight  of  nature,  and  that  is  not  suf- 
ficient to  find  it  out ;  only  the  Sun  of  Righte- 
ousness shining  in  the  sphere  of  the  gospel, 
brings  life  and  immortality  to  light,  2  Tim. 
i.  10.  No  wonder  that  natural  ^wisdom,  the 
deepest  of  it,  is  far  from  finding  out  the  true 
method  and  way  of  cure,  seeing  it  can  not  dis- 
cover the  disease  of  miserable  mankind,  viz., 
the  sinful  and  wretched  condition  of  n<x,iire 
by  the  first  disobedience. 

Salvation  expresses  not  only  that  which  is 
negative,  but  implies  likewise  positive  and 
perfect  happiness  ;  thus  forgiveness  of  sins  is 

I  put  for  the  whole  nature  of  justification  fre- 
quently in  Scripture.  It  is  more  easy  to  say 
of  this  unspeakable  happiness,  what  it  is  not, 
than  what  it  is.    There  is  in  it  a  full  and 

J  final  freedom  from  all  annoyance;  all  tears 

I  are  wiped  away,  and  their  fountain  is  dried 
up  ;  all  feeling  and  fear,  or  danger,  of  any  the 

1  least  evil,  either  of  sin  or  punishment,  is  ban- 
ished for  ever  ;  there  are  no  invasions  of  ene- 

I  mies,  no  robbing  or  destroying  in  all  this  Lciy 
mountain,  no  voice  'Of  complaining  it  tne 

I  streets  of  the  new  Jerusalem.  Here  it  is  at  the 

'  best  but  interchanges  of  mornings  of  joy,  with 
sad  evenings  of  weepings  ;  but  there,  there 
shall  he  no  light,  no  need  of  sun  nor  moon, 
For  the  glory  of  the  J.ord  shall  lighten  it, 
and  the  Lamb  shall  be  the  light  thereof,  Rev. 
xxi.  23. 

Weil  may  the  apostle  (as  he  doth  here 
throughout  this  chapter)  lay  this  salvation  to 
counterbalance  all  sorrows  and  persecutions, 
and  whatsoever  hardships  can  be  in  the  way 
to  it.  The  soul  that  is  persuaded  of  this,  in 
the  midst  of  storms  and  tempests  enjoys  a 

1  calm,  triumphs  in  disgraces,  grows  richer  by 
all  its  losses,  and  by  death  itself  attains  this 
immortal  life. 

Happy  are  they  who  have  their  eye  fixed 
upon  this  salvation,  and  are  longing  and  wait- 
ing for  it :  who  see  so  much  of  tliat  brightness 
and  glory,  as  darkens  all  the  lustre  of  earthly 
things  to  them,  and  makes  them  tramjjle 
upon  those  things  which  formerly  tlii'y  ad- 

j  mired  and  doated  on  with  the  rest  of  the  fool- 
ish world.  Those  things  we  account  so  much 
of,  are  but  as  rotten  wood,  or  glow-worms 
that  shine  only  in  the  night  of  our  ignorance 
and  vanity  :  so  soon  as  the  light-beam  of  this 

,  salvaiion  enters  into  the  soul,  it  can  not  much 

I  esteem  or  affect  anything  below  it  ;  and  if 
those  glances  of  it  which  shine  in  the  word, 

1  and  in  the  soul  of  a  Christian,  be  so  bright 


A  COMiAIlCNTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  I. 


and  powerful,  what  then  shall  the  full  sight 
aiul  real  possession  of  it  he  ? 

2.  The  gospel  is  rcpresentid  as  \.he  Doc- 
trine of  the  sufferings  and  i^loryof  Christ,  ns 
the  means  of  salvation.  The  worker  of  this 
salvation,  wi\om  the  priiphets  and  apostles 
make  the  sum  of  all  their  dictrine,  is  Jesus 
Christ,  and  the  sum  of  that  wt  rk  of  redemp- 
tion ',is  we  have  it  here),  is  his  humiliation 
and  exaltation  :  his  sufierinsr^!,  and  the  glory 
that  followed  thereupon.  Now,  though  this 
serve  as  an  encouragement  to  Christians  in 
their  sutferings,  that  this  is  the  way  hy  which 
their  Lord  went  into  his  gk^ry,  and  is  true 
also  of  Ciirist  mystical,  the  head  with  the 
memhers,  as  the  Scriptures  oi'ten  teach  us, 
yet  J  conceive  it  is  here  mainly  intended  as  a 
summary  of  the  work  of  our  redemption  by 
Jesus  Christ,  relating  to  the  salvation  men- 
tioned ver.  1(1,  and  as  the  cause  for  the  effect, 
so  it  is  put  fi  r  it  here.  The  prtiphets  inquired, 
and  prophesied  ('f  that  salvaticn.  How?  By 
searching  <>uf,  and  foretellino:  the  sufferings 
and  glory  of  Christ.  His  sufferings,  then,  and 
his  after-glories  are  our  salvation.  His  suffer- 
ing is  the  purchase  of  our  salvation,  and  his 
glory  is  our  assurance  of  it ;  he  as  our  head 
having  triumphed,  and  being  crowned,  makes 
us  likewise  sure  of  victory  and  triumph.  His 
having  entered  on  the  possession  of  glory, 
makes  our  hope  certain.  This  is  his  prayer. 
That  where  he  is,  there  tee  may  be  also  ;  and 
this  is  his  own  assertion.  The  glory  which  thou 
anvest  me,  1  hare  given  them,  John  xvii.  22, 
24.  This  is  his  promise.  Because  1  live,  ye 
shall  lire  also,  John  xij'.  19.  Christ  and  the 
believer  are  one  ;  this  is  that  great  mystery 
the  apostle  speaks  of,  Eph.  v.  30.  Though  it 
is  a  common  known  truth,  the  words  and  out- 
side of  it  obvious  to  all,  yet  none  can  under- 
stand it  but  they  who  indeed  partake  of  it.  By 
virtue  of  that  union,  their  sins  were  account- 
ed his,  and  Christ's  sufferings  are  accounted 
theirs,  and  by  consequence,  his  glory,  the  con- 
sequent of  his  suffering,  is  likewise  theirs. 
There  is  an  indissoluble  connexion  between 
the  life  of  Christ,  and  of  a  believer.  Our  life  is 
hid  with  Christ  in  God  ;  and  therefore  while 
we  remain  there,  our  life  is  there,  though  hid, 
and  when  he  who  is  our  life  shall  appear,  we 
likewise  shall  appear  with  him  m  glory,  Coloss. 
iii.  3,  4.  Seeing  the  sufferings  and  glory  of 
our  Redeemer  are  the  main  subject  of  the 
gospel,  and  the  causes  of  our  salvation,  and 
of  our  comfortable  persuasion  of  it,  it  is  a 
wonder  that  they  are  not  more  the  matter  of 
our  thoughts.  Ought  we  not  daily  lo  con- 
sider tiie  bitterness  of  that  cup  of  wrath  he 
drank  for  us,  and  be  wrought  to  repentance 
and  hatred  of  sin,  to  have  sin  imbittered  to  us 
bv  that  consideration,  and  find  the  sweetness 
of  his  love  in  that  he  did  drink  it,  and  by  that, 
be  deeply  possessed  with  love  to  him  ?  These 
things  we  now  and  then  speak  of,  but  they 
sink  not  into  our  minds,  as  our  Savior  exhorts, 
where  be  is  speaking  of  those  same  suffer- 
ings.   0  !  that  they  were  engraven  on  our 


hearts,  and  that  sin  were  crucified  in  us,  and 
the  world  crucified  to  vs,  and  ue  unto  the 
world,  by  the  cross  ot' Christ  I  Gal.  vi.  14. 

And  let  us  be  frequeiuly  considering  the 
glory  wherein  he  is,  and  have  our  eye  ofieu 
upon  that,  and  our  hearts  solacing  and  rei'resh- 
ing  themselves  frequently  with  the  thi,ught3 
of  that  place,  and  condition  wherein  Christ  is, 
and  where  our  hopes  are,  ere  long,  to  behold 
him  :  both  to  see  his  glory,  and  to  be  glorified 
with  him,  is  it  not  reason  ?  Yea,  it  is  neces- 
sary, it  can  not  he  otherwise,  if  our  treasure, 
and  Head  be  there,  that  our  hearts  be  there 
likewise,  Matt.  vi.  21  ;  Coloss.  iii.  1,  2. 

The  third  expression  here  of  the  gospel,  is, 
Thai  it  IS  the  doctrine  of  grace.  The  work  of 
redemption  itself  and  the  several  pans  of  it, 
and  the  doctrine  revealing  it,  have  all  the 
name  of  grace;  because  they  all  How  frcm 
free  srace  ;  that  is  their  spring  and  first  cause. 

And  it  is  this  wherein  the  doctrine  of  salva- 
tion is  mainly  comfortable,  that  it  is  free:  Ye 
are  sared  by  grace,  Eph.  ii.  8.  It  is  true,  God 
requires  faith,  it  is  through  faith  ;  but  he  that 
require  that,  gives  it  too  :  That  is  not  of  your- 
selves, it  is  the  gift  of  God,  Eph.  ii.  8.  It  is 
wonderful  grace  to  save  upon  believing;  be- 
Jieve  in  Jesus  for  salvation,  and  live  accord- 
ingly, and  it  is  done  ;  there  is  no  more  re- 
quired to  thy  pardon,  but  thai  ihiu  receive  it 
by  faith.  But  truly  nature  can  not  do  this; 
it  is  as  impossible  for  us  of  curselves  to  be- 
lieve, as  to  do.  This  then  is  that  which 
makes  it  all  grace  from  beginning  to  end, 
that  God  not  only  saves  upon  believing,  but 
gives  believing  itself.  Christ  is  called  not 
only  the  Author  and  Finisher  of  our  salva- 
tion, but  even  of  ovr  f/ith,  Heb.  xii.  2. 

Free  grace  being  rightly  apprehended,  is 
that  which  stays  the  heart  in  all  estates,  and 
keeps  it  from  faiming,  even  in  its  saddest 
times.  What  though  there  is  nothing  in  my- 
self but  matter  of  sorrow  and  discomfort,  it 
can  not  be  otherwise  ;  it  is  not  from  myself 
that  I  look  for  comfort  at  any  time,  but  from 
my  God  and  his  free  grace.  Here  is  comfort 
enough  for  all  times  ;  when  I  am  at  the  best, 
I  ought  not,  I  dare  not,  rely  upon  myself; 
when  I  am  at  the  worst,  T  may,  and  should  rely 
upon  Christ,  and  his  sufficient  grace.  Though 
I  be  the  vilest  sinner  that  ever  came  to  him, 
yet  1  know  that  he  is  more  gracious  than  I 
am  sinful  ;  yea,  the  more  my  sin  is,  the  more 
glory  will  it  be  to  his  grace  to  pardon  it ;  it 
will  appear  the  richer.  Doth  not  David  ar- 
gue thus,  Psal.  XXV.  11  :  For  thy  name's  sake, 
0  Lord,  pardon  mine  inif/viti/,  for  it  is  very 
great.  But  it  is  an  empty  fruitless  notion  oi 
grace  to  consider  it  only  in  the  general,  p.nd 
in  a  wandering  way:  we  are  to  look  upon  it 
particularly,  as  addressed  to  us;  and  it  is  no! 
enouffh  that  it  conies  tons,  in  the  message  of 
him  that  brings  it  only  to  our  car,  but,  that 
we  may  know  what  it  is,  it  must  come  into 
us  ;  then  it  is  ours  indeed.  But  if  it  come  to 
us  in  the  message  only,  and  we  send  it  away 
again,  if  it  shall  so  depart,  we  had  beitei 


Vee.  10-12.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


07 


never  have  heard  of  it ;  it  will  leave  a  guilti- 
ness behind  it,  that  shall  make  all  our  sins 
weigh  much  heavier  than  before. 

Inquire  whether  you  have  entertained  this 
grace  or  not ;  whether  it  be  come  to  you,  and 
into  you,  or  not ;  whether  the  kingdom  of 
God  is  withm  you,  as  our  Savior  speaks,  Luke 
xvii.  21.  It  is  the  most  woful  condition  that 
can  be,  not  to  be  far  from  the  kingdom  of 
God,  and  yet  to  fall  short,  and  miss  of  it.  The 
grace  of  God  revealed  in  the  gospel  is  en- 
treating you  daily  to  receive  it,  is  willing  to 
become  yours,  if  you  r  ;ject  it  not.  Were  your 
eyes  open  to  behold  the  beauty  and  excel- 
lency of  this  grace,  there  would  need  no  de- 
liberation ;  yea,  you  would  endure  none.  De- 
sire your  eyes  to  be  opened,  and  enlightened 
from  above,  that  you  may  know  it,  and  your 
hearts  opened,  that  you  may  be  happy  by  re- 
ceiving it. 

The  apostle,  speaking  of  Jesus  Christ  as 
the  foundation  of  our  faith,  calls  him  Thr 
same,  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.  Heb. 
xiii.  8.  Yesterday,  under  the  law,  to-day,  in 
those  primitive  times,  nearest  his  incarnation, 
and  for  ever,  in  all  succeeding  ages.  And 
the  resemblance  holds  good  between  the  two 
cherubim  over  the  mercy-seat,  and  the  two 
testaments:  those  had  their  faces  toward  one 
another,  and  both  toward  the  mercy-seat ;  and 
t/iese  look  to  one  another  in  their  doctrine, 
agreeing  perfectly,  and  both  look  to  Christ, 
the  true  mercy-seat,  and  the  great  subject  of 
the  Scriptures.  Thus  we  see  here  :  the  things 
which  the  prophets  foretold  as  to  come,  and 
the  apostles  reported  were  accomplished, 
were  the  same,  and  frc>m  the  same  Spirit ; 
they  were  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  and  his 
after  glory,  and  in  them  our  salvation  by 
free  grace.  The  prophecies  look  forward  to 
the  times  of  the  gospel ;  and  the  things  then 
fulfilled,  look  back  to  the  prophecies;  and 
each  confirms  the  other,  meeting  all  in  Christ, 
who  is  their  truth  and  centre. 

We  have  spoken  already  of  the  author,  and 
subject  of  this  salvation.  Now  we  come  to 
say  something,  III.  Concerning  the  worth  of 
those  who  are  employed  about  it,  as  well  in 
administering  to  it,  as  in  admiring  it.  And 
these  are  tlie  prophets  and  the  apostles:  the 
first  foretold  what  was  to  come,  the  second 
preached  them  when  they  came  to  pass. 

In  the  prophets,  there  are  three  things  here 
remarked.  1.  Their  diligence.  2.  The  suc- 
cess of  it.    3.  The  extent  of  its  usefulness. 

1.  This  their  diligence  disparages  not  their 
extraordinary  visions  and  revelations,  and 
that  which  is  added,  that  the  spirit  of  Christ 
was  in  them,  and  did  foretell  the  things  to 
come. 

It  was  their  constant  duty,  and  they  being 
sensible  of  their  duty,  made  it  their  constant 
exercise  to  search  into  divine  mysteries  by 
meditation  and  prayer ;  yea,  and  by  reading 
such  holy  writers  as  were  already  extant  in 
their  times,  as  Daniel  ix,  3;  x.  11.  For 
which  cause,  some,  taking  the  word  actively, 
13 


conceive  Daniel  to  be  called  there  a  man  of 
desires,  because  of  his  great  desire,  and  dili- 
gent search  after  the  knowledge  of  those  high 
things.  And  in  this  diligent  way  they  con- 
stantly waited  for  those  revelations  which 
sometimes,  when  it  seemed  good  imto  the 
spirit  of  God,  were  imparted  unto  them. 

"  Prophecy  resideth  not,"  say  the  Hebrew 
doctors,  "  but  in  a  man  who  is  great  in  wisdom 
and  virtue,  whose  affections  overcome  him 
not  in  any  worldly  things,  but  by  his  knowl- 
edge he  overcometh  his  affections  continual- 
ly :  on  such  a  man  the  Holy  Spirit  cometh 
down,  and  his  soul  is  associated  to  the  angels, 
and  he  is  changed  to  another  man."  Thus 
Maimonides. 

It  was  the  way  of  the  prince  of  darkness 
among  the  idolatrous  Gentiles,  to  speak  ei- 
ther through  senseless  statues,  or,  where 
he  uttered  his  oracles  by  such  profane  proph- 
ets as  he  had,  to  cause  them  in  a  fury  to 
mumble  forth  words  which  they  understood 
not,  and  knew  not  what  they  said.  But  the 
Spirit  of  God  being  light,  and  the  holy  proph- 
ets inspired  with  it,  they  being  diligent  at- 
tendants on  its  motions,  and  searchers  of  the 
mysteries  of  salvation,  understood  well  what 
their  business  was,  and  to  what  purpose 
those  things  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ  tended, 
which  they  by  inspiration  did  foretell ;  and 
therefore  bended  their  thoughts  this  way, 
praying,  and  searching,  and  waiting  for  an- 
swers, studying  to  keep  the  passage,  as  it 
were,  open  for  the  beams  of  those  divine 
revelations  to  come  in  at:  not  to  have  their 
spirits  clogged  and  stopped  with  earthly  and 
sinful  afieciions,  endeavoring  for  that  calm 
and  quiet  composure  of  spirit  in  which  the 
voice  of  God's  spirit  might  be  the  better 
heard.  See  Psal.  Ixxx.  8,  and  Hah.  ii.  1  ;  in 
both  which  places  follows  an  excellent  proph- 
ecy concerning  Christ  and  that  salvation 
which  he  wrought  for  his  people. 

Were  the  prophets  not  exempted  from  the 
pains  of  search  and  inquiry,  who  had  the 
spirit  of  God  not  only  in  a  high  measure,  but 
after  a  singular  manner  ?  How  unbeseeming, 
then,  are  slothfiilness  and  idleness  in  us! 
Whether  is  it,  that  we  judge  ourselves  ad- 
vantaged with  m(jre  of  the  Spirit  than  those 
holy  men,  or  that  we  esteem  the  doctrines 
and  mysteries  of  salvation,  on  which  they 
bestowed  so  much  of  their  labor,  unworthy 
of  ours?  These  are  both  so  gross,  that  we 
shall  be  loath  to  own  either  of  thetn  :  and  yet 
our  laziness  and  negligence  in  searching  after 
these  things,  seem  to  charge  us  with  some 
such  thought  as  one  of  those. 

You  will  say,  this  concerns  those  who  suc- 
ceed to  the  work  of  the  prophets  and  apcstles 
in  ordinary, — the  ministers  of  the  gtspel. 
And  it  doth  indeed  fall  first  upon  them.  It 
is  their  task  indeed  to  be  diligent,  and,  as  the 
apostle  exhorts  his  Timothy,  to  attend  on 
reading,  1  Tim.  iv.  13  ;  but,  above  all,  to 
study  to  have  much  experimental  knowledge 
of  God  and  his  Son,  Jesus  Christ ;  and  for 


98 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  1. 


this  end,  to  disentaiis;lo  and  free  themselves, 
as  nnicli  as  is  possible,  fioiii  lower  thinijs,  in 
order  to  the  search  ol'  heavenly  inyslerics. 
Prov.  xviii.  1.  As  they  arc  called  a»f;pls,  so 
ounflit  they  to  be,  as  much  as  they  can  attain 
xo  it,  in  a  constant  nearness  unto  God,  and 
attendance  on  him,  like  unto  the  angels,  and 
to  look  much  into  these  things  as  the  angels 
here  are  said  to  do;  to  endeavor  to  have 
their  souls  i)urifieu  I'rom  the  affections  of  sin, 
mat  the  light  of  divine  truth  may  shine  clear 
in  them,  and  not  be  fogged  and  misled  with 
filihy  vapors ;  to  have  the  impressions  of 
God  clearly  written  in  their  breasts,  not 
mixed  and  blurred  with  earthly  characters  ; 
seasoning  all  their  readings  and  common 
studies  with  much  prayer  and  divine  medi- 
tation. They  who  converse  most  with  the 
king,  and  are  inward  with  him,  know  most 
of  the  affairs  of  state,  and  even  the  secrets  of 
them,  which  are  hid  from  others ;  and  cer- 
tainly those  of  God's  messengers  who  are 
oftenest  with  himself,  can  not  but  understand 
their  business  best,  and  know  most  of  his 
meaning,  and  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom  ;  and 
to  that  end  it  is  confessed  that  singular  dili- 
gence is  required  in  them.  But  seeing  the 
Lord  hath  said,  without  exception,  that  his 
secret  is  with  them  thut  fear  him,  Psalm  xxv. 
14,  and  that  he  will  reveal  himself  and  his 
saving  truths  to  those  that  humbly  seek 
them  ;  do  not  any  of  you  do  yourselves  so 
much  injury  as  to  debar  yourselves  from 
sharing  in  your  measure  of  the  search  of 
these  things,  which  were  the  study  of  the 

firophets,  and  which  by  their  study  and  pub- 
ishing  them,  are  made  the  more  accessible 
and  easy  to  us.  Consider  that  they  do  con- 
cern us  universally,  if  we  would  be  saved  ; 
for  it  is  salvation  here  that  they  studied. 
Search  the  scriptures,  says  our  Savior,  Johii 
V.  39,  and  that  is  the  motive,  if  there  can  be 
any  that  may  be  thought  in  reason  pressing 
enough,  or  if  we  do  indeed  think  so.  For  m 
them  ye  think  to  have  eternal  life.  And  it  is 
there  to  be  found:  Christ  is  this  salvation 
and  this  eternal  life.  And  he  adds  further. 
It  is  they  (these  scriptures)  that  testify  of 
me.  These  are  the  golden  mines  in  which 
alone  the  abiding  treasures  of  eternity  are  to 
be  found,  and  therefore  worthy  all  the  dig- 
ging and  pains  we  can  bestow  on  them. 

Besides  their  industry  in  this  inquiry  and 
tearch,  there  are  here  expressed  their  ardent 
affection  to  the  thing  they  prophesied  of,  and 
their  longings  and  wishes  for  i>s  accomplish- 
ment, viz.,  the  coming  of  Jesus  Christ,  the 
promised  Messiah,  the  top  of  all  their  desires, 
the  great  hope  and  the  light  of  Israel.  No 
wonder  they  desired  his  day,  who  had  so 
much  joy  m  the  seeing  it  so  far  off,  as  over 
the  head  almost  of  two  thousand  years.  Faith 
overlooking  them,  and  foreseeing  it  so  in 
Abraham,  his  heart  danced  for  joy.  John 
viii.  56.    Ahraham  saw  my  day  and  rejoiced. 

And  this  is  conceived  to  be  the  meaning 
of  those  expressions  in  that  mystical  song,  as 


they  suit  thos;  times  of  the  Jewish  church, 
breathing  out  her  longings  for  the  (omingof 
lier  beloved.  His  sjieaking  by  the  prophets 
was  his  voice  as  afar  off:  but  his  incarnation 
was  his  coming  near,  and  kissing  his  church 
icith  the  kisses  of  his  mouth.  Cant.i.  1.  And 
to  omit  other  expressions  throughout  the 
song,  the  last  cha|)ter,  ver.  1,  is  tender  and 
paihetical :  ().'  thut  thou  wert  as  7ny  brother, 
&c.  ;  and  the  last  words  of  it,  Make  haste,  my 
beloved,  and  be  thou  like  a  roe  or  a  young 
hart  upon  the  mountains  of  spices.  And  when 
this  salvation  came  in  the  fulness  of  time,  we 
see  how  joyfully  good  old  Simeon  embraces 
it,  and  thought  he  had  seen  enough,  and 
therefore  upon  the  sight  desired  to  have  his 
eyes  closed  :  Now  lei  thy  servant  depart  in 
peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation. 
Luke  li.  29.  Therefore  our  Savior  says  to 
his  apostles.  Matt.  xiii.  IG.  Blessed  arc  your 
eyes,  for  they  see,  for  many  prophets  and 
righteous  men  have  desired  to  see  those  thin<TS 
which  ye  see,  and  have  not  seen  them.  This 
is  he  whom  we  disestcem  and  make  so  small 
account  of,  being  now  so  clearly  revealed, 
whom  they  studied,  and  sought,  and  wished 
so  much  for,  so  many  ages  before. 

2dly.  The  success  of  their  search  is  remark- 
ed ;  in  seeking  they  found  the  certainty,  and 
the  time  of  his  coming  ;  they  sought  out  till 
they  found,  and  then  they  prophesied  of  that 
salvation  and  grace;  they  searched  what,  and 
what  manner  <f  time,  and  the  Spirit  did  man- 
ifestly foretell  it  them. 

They  sought  to  know  what  manner  of  time 
it  should  come  to  pass,  viz.,  in  a  time  of  great 
distress,  and  bad  estate  of  the  peojjle,  as  all 
the  prophets  testify:  and  particularly  that 
place.  Gen.  xlix.  10,  gives  an  express  chai 
acter  of  the  time  ;  though  there  be  some  di- 
versity of  exposition  of  the  particular  words, 
yet  the  main  sense  is  agreed  on  by  all  sound 
interpreters,  and  the  Chaldee  paraphrase  hath 
it  expressly,  that  Shiloh  is  the  Messiah. 

And  of  his  sufferings  and  after-glories  they 
prophesied  very  clearly,  as  Psal.  xxii.,  Isa. 
liii.,  &c.  And  our  Savior  himself  makes  use 
of  their  testimony  in  both  these  points,  Luke 
xxiv,  25-27. 

3dly.  There  is  the  benefit  of  their  search 
and  finding,  in  the  extent  of  it,  verse  12,  to 
the  believers  in  the  apostle's  times,  and  to 
the  succeeding  Christian  church,  and  so  to  us 
in  these  days  ;  but  in  some  peculiar  sense  the 
prophets  ministered  to  the  people  of  those 
limes  wherein  Christ  did  suffer  and  enter  into 
glory,  inasmuch  as  they  were  the  first  who 
enjoyed  the  accomplishment  of  those  prophe- 
cies, they  being  fulfilled  in  their  own  days. 

The  prophets  knew  well  that  the  things 
they  prophesied  were  not  to  be  fulfilled  in 
their  own  times,  and  therefore  in  their  proph- 
esying concerning  them,  though  both  them- 
selves and  the  people  of  God  who  were  con- 
temporary with  them,  did  reap  the  comfort 
of  that  doctrine,  and  were  by  faith  partakers 
of  the  same  salvation ;  and  so  it  was  lo 


Ver.  10—12.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


99 


themselves  as  well  as  of  us  ;  yet  in  regard  cf 
the  accomplishment,  they  knew  it  was  not  to 
themselves,  it  was  not  to  be  brought  to  pass 
in  their  days  :  and,  therefore,  speaking  of  the 
glory  of  Christ's  kingdom,  they  often  foretell 
it  for  the  latter  days,  as  their  phrase  is.  And 
as  we  have  the  things  they  prophesied  of,  so 
we  liave  this  peculiar  benefit  of  their  prophe- 
cies, that  their  suiting  so  perfectly  with  the 
event  and  performance,  serves  much  to  con- 
firm our  Christian  faith. 

There  is  a  foolish  and  miserable  way  of 
verifying  this  expression, — men  ministering 
the  doctrine  of  salvation  to  others  and  not  to 
themselves  :  carrying  it  in  all  their  heads  and 
tongues,  and  none  of  it  in  their  hearts;  not 
hearing  it  even  while  they  preach  it :  extend- 
ing the  bread  of  life  to  others,  and  eating 
none  of  it  themselves.  And  this,  the  apostle 
says,  that  he  was  most  careful  to  avoid,  and 
therefore  dealt  severely  with  his  body,  that 
it  might  not  in  this  way  endanger  his  soul. 
I  beat  down  my  body,  says  he,  and  keep  it  in 
subjection,  lest  when  I  have  preached  to  oth- 
ers, I  myself  should  he  a  cast-away.  1  Cor.  ix. 
27.  It  is  not  in  this  sense  ihai  the  prophets  j 
ministered  to  others,  and  not  to  themselves. 
No,  they  had  joy  and  comfort  in  the  very 
hopes  of  the  Redeemer  to  come,  and  in  the 
belief  of  the  things  which  any  others  had 
spoken,  and  which  themselves  spake  con- 
cerning him.  And  thus  the  true  preachers 
of  the  gospel,  though  their  ministerial  sifts 
are  for  the  use  of  others,  yet  that  salvation 
which  they  preach,  they  lay  hold  on  and  par- 
take of  themselves  :  as  your  boxes,  wherein 
perfumes  are  kept  for  garments  and  other 
uses,  are  themselves  perfumed  by  keeping 
them. 

We  see  how  the  prophets  ministered  it  as 
tlie  never-failing  consolation  of  the  church 
in  those  days,  in  all  their  distresses.  It  is 
wonderful  when  they  are  foretelling  either 
the  sorrows  and  afflictions,  or  the  temporal 
restoration  and  deliverances  of  that  people  of 
the  Jews,  what  sudden  outleaps  they  will 
make,  to  speak  of  the  kingdom  of' Jesus 
Christ  and  the  days  of  the  gospel,  insomuch 
that  he  who  considers  not  the  spirt  they 
were  moved  by,  would  think  it  were  incohe- 
rence and  impertinency  :  but  they  knew  well 
what  they  meant,  that  those  rieirs  were  never 
unseasonable,  nor  beside  the  purpose  ;  that 
the  sweetness  of  those  thoughts,  viz.,  the 
consideration  of  the  Messiah,  was  able  (to 
such  as  believed)  to  allay  the  bitterest  dis- 
tresses, and  that  the  great  deliverance  he  was 
to  work,  was  the  top  and  sum  of  all  deliver- 
ances. Thus  their  prophecies  of  him  were 
present  comfort  to  themselves  and  other  be- 
liev«!rs  then  :  and  further,  were  to  serve  for  a 
clear  evidence  of  the  divine  truth  of  those 
mysteries  in  the  days  of  the  gospel,  in  and 
after  their  fulfilment. 

Th  is  sweet  stream  of  their  doctrine  did,  as 
he  livers,  make  its  own  banks  fertile  and 
pleasant  as  it  ran  by,  and  flowed  still  forward 


to  after-ages,  and  by  the  confluenc<  of  more 
such  prophecies,  grew  greater  as  it  went,  till 
it  fell  in  with  the  main  current  of  the  gospel 
in  the  New  Testament,  both  acted  and  preach- 
ed by  the  Great  Prophet  himself  whom  they 
foretold  as  to  come,  and  recorded  by  his  apos- 
tles and  evangelists,  and  thus  united  into  one 
river,  clear  as  crystal.  This  doctrine  ol  sal- 
vation in  the  scriptures  hath  still  refreshed 
the  city  of  God,  his  church  under  the  gospel, 
and  still  shall  do  so,  till  it  empty  itself  into 
the  ocean  of  eternity. 

The  first  discovery  we  have  of  this  stream 
nearest  its  source,  the  eternal  purpose  of  di- 
vine mercy,  is  in  that  promise  which  the 
Lord  himself  preached  in  few  words  to  our 
first  parents,  who  had  newly  made  them- 
selves and  their  race  miserable :  The  seed  of 
the  woman  shall  break  the  head  of  the  serpent. 
Gen.  iii.  15. 

The  agreement  of  the  predictions  of  the 
prophets  with  the  things  themselves,  and  the 
preaching  of  the  apostles  following  (the  other 
kind  of  men  employed  in  this  salvation),  make 
up  one  organ,  or  great  instrument,  tuned  by 
the  same  hand,  and  sounding  by  the  same 
breath  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  and  that  is  ex- 
pressed here  as  the  common  authority  of  the 
doctrine  in  both,  and  the  cause  of  their  har- 
mony and  agreement  in  it. 

All  these  extraordinary  f^ifts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  the  calling  of  prophets  and  apostles  and 
evangelists,  and  the  ordinary  ministry  of  the 
Gospel  by  pastors  and  teachers,  tend  to  that 
great  design  which  God  hath  in  huildim;  his 
church,  in  making  up  that  great  assem1)ly  of 
all  the  elect,  to  enjoy  and  praise  him  for  all 
eternity,  Eph.  iv.  11.  For  this  end  he  sent 
his  Son,  out  of  his  bosom,  and  for  this  end  he 
sends  forth  his  messengers  to  divulge  that 
salvation  which  his  son  hath  wrought,  and 
sends  down  his  spirit  upon  them,  that  they 
may  be  fitted  for  so  high  a  service.  Those 
cherubim  wonder  how  guilty  man  escapes 
their  flaming  swords,  and  re-enters  paradise. 
The  angels  see  that  their  companions  who 
fell  are  not  restored,  but  behold  their  room 
filled  up  with  the  spirits  of  jur.t  men,  and  they 
envy  it  not:  Which  mystery  the  anf^cls  desire 
to  look  into  ;  and  this  is  added  in  the  close  of 
these  words  for  the  extolling  of  it. 

The  an<;els  look  upon  what  they  have  seen 
already  fulfilled,  with  delight  and  admiration, 
and  what  remains,  namely,  the  full  accom- 
plishment of  this  great  work  in  the  end  of 
time,  they  look  upon  with  desire  to  see  it  fin- 
ished ;  it  is  not  a  slight  glance  they  take  of 
it,  but  they  fix  their  eyes  and  look  steadfastly 
on  it,  viz.,  that  mystery  of  godliness,  God 
manifested  in  the  fesh  ;  and  it  is  added,  seen 
of  anfrds,  1  Tim.  iii.  16. 

The  Word  made  flesh,  draws  the  eyes  of 
those  glorious  spirits,  and  possesses  thera 
with  Wonder  to  see  the  Almighty  Godhead 
joined  with  the  weakness  of  a  man,  yea,  of 
an  infant.  He  that  stretched  forih  the  heav- 
ens bound  up  in  swaddling  clothes!  and  to 


100 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Cuvr  I. 


surpass  all  the  wonder?  of  his  life,  this  is  be- 1 
ytiiul  all  aihiiiralion,  that  the  Lord  of  Life 
was  subject  to  deaih,  and  that  his  love  to  re- 
bellious mankind  moved  him  both  to  take  on 
and  lay  down  that  life. 

It  is  no  wonder  ihe  angels  admire  these 
!hings,  and  delight  to  look  upon  them  ;  but 
it  is  strange  lliat  we  do  not  so.  They  view 
them  steadfastly,  and  we  neglect  them  :  either  I 
we  consider  them  not  at  all,  or  give  them  but 
a  transient  look,  half  an  eye.  That  which 
was  the  great  business  of  the  prophets  and 
apostles,  both  for  their  own  times,  and  to 
convey  them  to  us,  we  regard  not ;  and  turn 
our  eyes  to  foolish  wandering  thoughts,  which 
angeis  are  ashamed  at.  They  are  not  so 
concerned  in  this  great  mystery  as  we  are  ; 
they  are  but  mere  beholders,  in  comparison 
of  us,  yea,  they  seem  rather  to  be  losers  some 
way,  in  that  our  nature,  in  itself  inferior  to 
theirs,  is  in  Jesus  Christ  exalted  above  theirs, 
Heb.  ii.  16.  We  bow  down  to  the  earth,  and 
study,  and  grovel  in  it,  rake  into  the  very 
bowels  of  it,  and  content  ourselves  with  the 
outside  of  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ, 
and  look  not  within  it :  but  they,  having  no 
will  nor  desire  but  for  the  glory  of  God,  be- 
ing pure  flames  of  fire  burning  only  in  love  to 
him,  are  no  less  delighted  than  amazed  with 
the  bottomless  wonders  of  his  wisdom  and 
goodness  shining  in  the  work  of  our  redemp- 
tion. 

It  is  our  shame  and  folly,  that  we  lose  our- 
selves and  our  thoushts  in  poor  childish 
things,  and  trifle  away  our  days  we  know 
not  how,  and  let  these  rich  mysteries  lie  un- 
regarded. They  look  up  upon  the  Deity  in 
itself  with  continual  admiration  ;  but  then 
they  look  down  to  this  mystery  as  another 
wonder.  We  give  them  an  ear  in  public,  and 
in  a  cold  formal  way  stop  conscience's  mouth 
with  some  religious  performances  in  private, 
and  no  more  ;  but  to  have  deep  and  frequent 
thoughts  and  to  be  ravished  in  the  meditation 
of  our  Lord  Jesus,  once  on  the  cross,  and  now 
in  glory, — how  few  of  us  are  acquainted  with 
this ! 

We  see  here  excc'lcnt  company,  and  ex- 
amples not  only  of  the  best  of  men  that  have 
been — we  have  them  for  fellow-servants  and 
fellow-students — but,  if  that  can  persuade  us, 
we  may  all  study  the  same  lesson  with  the 
very  angels,  and  have  the  same  thoughts 
with  them.  This  the  soul  doth,  whicli  often 
entertains  itself  with  the  delightful  admira- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ  and  the  redemption  he 
hath  wrought  for  us. 

Ver.  13.  Wherpforp,  e;ir(l  'jp  the  loins  of  your  mind, 
bo  sober,  and  liopc  to  tlx  end,  for  llic  grace  that  is  ! 
to  be  brought  unto  you,  at  the  revelation  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

The  great  error  of  man's  mind,  and  the 
cause  of  all  his  errors  of  life,  is  the  diverting 
of  the  soul  from  God,  and  turning  downward 
to  inferior  confidences  and  comforts  ;  and  this 
ruischoice  is  the  very  root  of  all  our  miseries. 


I  therefore  the  main  end  of  the  holy  word  of 
God,  is  to  untie  the  hearts  of  men  from  the 
world,  and  reduce  them  to  God  as  then 
only  rest  and  solid  comfort ;  and  this  is  here 
ihe  apostle's  mark  at  which  all  the  precedinj^ 
discourse  aims  ;  it  all  meets  and  terminates 
in  this  exhortation,  Wherefore,,  gird  up  the 
loins  of  your  mind. 

I  In  the  words  are  these  three  things,  lit, 
The  great  stay  and  comfort  of  the  soul, 
which  the  a})ostle  repeats,  and  represents  to 
his  afflicted  brethren.  2dly,  His  exciting 
them  to  the  right  apprehension  and  confident 
expectation  of  it.  "idly,  The  inference  of  that 
exhortation. 

\.  The  great  matter  of  their  comfort  is,  The 
grace  which  is  to  he  brought  to  them  at  the 
revelation  of  Jesus  Christ.  Some  for  grace 
read  joy,  having  as  it  seems,  for  x''?'"  read 
X'lOM  :  tlie  words  are  not  more  near  one  to  an- 
other, that  the  things  they  signify,  grace  and 
joy  ;  but  it  is  most  commonly  thus  read. 

The  estate  of  grace  and  that  of  glory,  are 
not  only  so  inseparably  connected,  but  so  like 
one  to  -  the  other  ;  yea,  so  essentially  the 
same,  that  the  same  expressions  in  Scripture 
do  often  fit  both  of  them  ;  and  so  fit  them, 
that  it  is  doubtful  for  which  of  the  two  to  iri- 
derstand  them :  but  the  hazard  is  not  great, 
seeing  they  are  so  near,  and  so  one,  grace 
being  glory  begun,  and  glory  grace  completed, 
and  both  are  often  called  the  kingdom  of 
God.  So  the  grace  here  said  to  be  brought 
to  them,  is  either  the  doctrine  of  grace  in  the 
gospel  wherein  Jesus  Christ  is  revealed,  and  . 
that  grace  in  him  (for  the  whole  tenor  of 
the  covenant  of  grace,  every  clause  of  it, 
holds  in  him  ;  his  precious  name  runs  through 
it  all)  ;  or,  it  is  the  g  -ace  of  salvation  which  is 
to  be  fully  perfected  at  the  last  and  clearest 
revelation  of  Jesus  Christ.  And  for  this  rather 
I  take  it  here,  inasmuch  as  the  apostle's  near- 
est foregoing  words  were  concerning  it,  and 
it  is  set  up  here  as  the  object  of  hope,  which, 
though  often  put  for  faith,  yet,  in  its  proper 
notion,  looks  out  to  that  which  is  to  come. 

This  is  the  last  act  of  grace,  and  yet  still 
it  is  called  by  its  (  wn  name,  and  not  turned 
into  the  name  of  merit,  notwithstanding  all 
the  obedience  and  all  the  sufferings  of  the 
saints  that  have  gone  before  it ;  yea,  even  the 
salvation  to  be  revealed  to  them,  is  called 
grace.  But  it  is  needless  to  insist  on  this,  for 
certainly  none  who  partake  of  grace,  will  be 
of  another  mind,  or  ever  admit  the  mixture 
of  the  least  nbtion  of  self-deserving. 

Though  much  dispute  hath  been  bestowed  • 
on  this,  and  questions  have  been  multiply'.ng 
in  the  disputant's  hands  (as  is  usual  in  con- 
troversies), one  growing  out  of  another,  yet 
truly  I  think  the  debate  in  this  matter  to  bo 
but  waste  ;  it  is  not  only  against  the  voice  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  of  grace  itself  in  the  soul, 
but  even  against  sound  reason,  to  imagine 
any  meriting,  properly  taken,  in  any  mere 
creature  at  his  Creator's  hand,  who  hath 
given  him  nis  being ;  of  which  gift  all  his 


Vek.  13.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


10 


services  and  obedience  fall  short,  so  that  he 
can  never  come  to  be  upon  even  disengaged 
terms,  much  less  to  oblige  anew^,  and  deserve 
somewhat  further.  Besides,  that  same  grace 
by  which  any  one  serves  and  obeys  God,  is 
likewise  his  own  gift,  as  it  is  said,  1  Chron. 
xxix.  14,  All  things  come  of  thee,  and  of  thine 
own  have  I  given  thee.  Both  the  ability  and 
the  will  of  giving  to  him,  are  from  him  ;  so 
that  in  these  respects,  not  angels,  nor  man  in 
innocency,  could  properly  merit  at  the  hands 
of  God,  much  less  man  lost,  redeemed  again, 
and  so  coming  under  the  new  obligation  of 
infinite  mercy.  And  this  is  so  evident  a 
truth,  that  the  most  learned  and  most  inge- 
nious Jesuits  and  schoolmen  have,  in  divers 
passages  of  their  writings,  acknowledged  it, 
that  there  can  not  be  any  compensation,  and 
much  less  merit  from  the  creature  to  God, 
but  only  in  relation  to  his  own  free  purpose, 
and  the  tenure  of  his  word  and  covenant, 
which  is  inviolable,  because  he  is  unchange- 
able, and  truth  itself. 

His  first  grace  he  gives  freely,  and  no  less 
freely  the  increases  of  it,  and  with  the  same 
gracious  hand  sets  the  crown  of  glory  upon 
all  the  grace  that  he  hath  given  before.  It 
is  but  the  following  forih  of  his  own  work, 
and  fulfilling  his  own  thoughts  of  free  love, 
which  love  hath  no  cause  but  in  himself,  and 
finds  none  worthy,  but  gives  them  all  the 
worthiness  they  have,  and  accepts  of  tlieir 
love,  not  as  worthy  in  itself,  to  be  accepted, 
but  because  he  himself  hath  wrought  it  in 
them.  Not  only  the  first  tastes,  but  the  full 
draught  of  the  waters  of  life  is  freely  given. 
Rev.  xxii.  17  ;  nothing  is  brought  with  them 
but  thirst. 

That  IS  to  be  brought.]  Not  that  is  brought, 
OT,  that  shall  be  brought,  but  if  we  will  ren- 
der it  strictly,  it  is,  that  is  a  bringing  to  you. 
That  blessedness,  that  consummation  of 
grace  the  saints  are  hastening  forward  to, 
walking  on  in  their  wiy  wheresoever  it  Jies 
indifferently,  throng  ■  honor  and  dishonor, 
through  evil  report  and  good  report,  2  Cor. 
vi.  8.  And  as  they  are  hastening  to  it,  ii  is 
hastening  to  them  in  the  course  of  time  ; 
every  day  brings  it  nearer  to  them  than  be- 
fore; and  notwithstanding  ail  difficulties  and 
dangers  in  the  way,  tiiey  who  have  their  eye 
and  hopes  upon  it,  shall  arrive  at  it,  and  it 
shall  be  brought  safe  to  their  hand  ;  all  the 
malice  of  men  and  devils  shall  not  be  able 
to  cut  them  short  of  this  grace  that  is  a  bring- 
ing to  them  against  the  day  of  the  revelation  j 
tf  Jesus  Christ. 

At  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ.]    This  ^ 
£  repeated  from  the  7th  verse.    And  it  is  ' 
termed  a  day  of  revelation,  a  revelation  of 
the  just  judgment  of  (ind,  Rom.  ii.  5.    Arid  I 
thus  it  would  be  to  all,  were  it  not  that  it  is  i 
withal  llie  revelation  of  .Jesus  Christ  ;  there- 
fore is  it  a  day  of  grace,  all  liirlit  and  bless- 
edness to  them  who  are  in  him,  because  they  j 
shall  ai)i)eiir  ni  him,  nnd  if  he  he  glorious', 
hey  shall  not  be  inglorious  and  ashamed.  , 


Indeed  were  our  secret  sins  thet  to  be,  set 
before  our  own  eyes,  in  their  most  affrighted 
visage,  and  to  be  set  open  to  the  view  of  an- 
gels and  men,  and  to  the  eye  of  divine  jus- 
tice, and  we  left  alone  so  revealed,  who  is 
there  that  could  gather  any  comfort,  and 
would  not  rather  have  their  thoughts  filled 
with  horror  at  the  remembrance  and  expecta- 
tion of  that  day  ?  And  thus  indeed  all  un- 
believing and  ungodly  men  may  look  upon 
it,  and  find  it  terrible  ;  but  to  those  who  are 
shadowed  under  the  robe  of  righteous  Jesus, 
yea,  who  are  made  one  with  him,  and  shall 
partake  of  his  glory  in  his  appearing,  it  is  the 
sweetest,  the  most  comfortable  thought  that 
their  souls  can  be  entertained  and  possessed 
withal,  to  remember  this  glorious  revelation 
of  their  Redeemer. 

It  is  their  great  grief  here,  not  that  them- 
selves are  hated  and  vilified,  but  that  their 
Lord  Jesus  is  so  little  known,  and  therefore 
so  much  despised  in  the  world.  He  is  veiled 
and  hid  from  the  world.  Many  nations  ac- 
knowledge him  not  at  all ;  and  many  of  those 
that  do  in  word  confess,  yet  in  deed  deny 
him.  Many  that  have  a  form  of  godliness, 
do  not  only  want,  but  mock  and  scoff  at  the 
power  of  it ;  and  to  such  Christ  is  not  known, 
his  excellences  are  hid  from  their  eyes. 
Now  this  glory  of  their  Lord  being  precious 
to  them  that  love  him,  they  rejoice  much  in 
the  consideration  of  this,  that  there  is  a  day 
at  hand  wherein  he  shall  appear  in  his  bright- 
ness and  full  of  glory  to  all  nations,  and  all 
shall  be  forced  to  acknowledge  him  ;  it  shall 
he  without  doubt  and  unquestioned  to  all, 
that  he  is  the  Messiah,  the  Redeemer,  the 
Judge  of  the  World. 

And  as  it  is  the  day  of  his  revelation,  it  is 
also  the  revelation  of  all  the  adopted  sons  of 
God  in  him.  See  Rom.  viii.  9.  They  are 
now  accounted  the  refuse  of  the  world,  ex- 
posed to  all  kinds  of  contempt  ;  but  then  the 
beams  of  Christ's  glory  shall  beautify  them, 
and  thev  shall  he  known  tor  his.  See  1  John 
iii.  2  ;  Col.  iii.  4. 

Next,  there  is.  If.  The  exhortation,  by 
which  the  apostle  excites  them  to  the  right 
apprehension  and  confident  expectation  of 
this  grace — hope  to  the  end.  The  difference 
of  these  two  graces,  faith  and  hope,  is  so 
small,  that  the  one  is  often  taken  for  the 
other  in  Scrij)ture  ;  it  is  but  a  different  as- 
pect of  the  same  confidence, apprehend- 
ing the  infallible  truth  of  those  divine  prom- 
ises of  which  hope  doth  assuredly  expect  the 
accomplishment,  and  that  is  their  truth  ;  so 
that  this  immediate!}  results  from  the  other. 
This  is  the  anchor  fixed  within  the  veil, 
which  keeps  the  soul  firm  against  all  the 
tossings  on  these  swelling  seas,  and  the  winds 
and  tempests  that  arise  upon  them.  The 
firmest  thing  in  this  inferior  world  is  a  be- 
lieving soul. 

Faith  establishes  the  heart  on  Jesus  Christ, 
and  hope  lifts  it  up,  being  on  that  rock,  over 
the  head  of  all  iutervenient  dangers,  crosses, 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  £. 


and  icmptations,  and  scj's  the  glory  and  liap-  If  you  would  have  much  of  t'lis,  rail  of? 
l)iness  Uiai  follow  at'ier  ilicm.  your  allections  i'vom  otiier  things,  that  they 

To  Ihc  t'/i(/.]  Or  pi.-rfectly  :  and  therefore  may  be  capable  of  much  of  it.  The  Fame 
tlie  Christian  seeks  most  earnesily,  and  yet  j  eye  can  not  both  look  up  to  heaven  and  down 
waits  most  patiently.  Psal.  cxxx.  (>.  Indeed,  I  to  earth  at  the  same  time.  The  more  your 
this  liope  is  perfect  in  continuance,  it  is  a  '  afl'ections  are  trussed  up  and  disentangled 
hope  unto  the  end,  because  it  is  ])erfect  in  its  from  the  world,  the  more  exjiedite  and  ac- 
iiature,  although  imperl'ect  in  degree.  Some-  tive  will  they  be  in  this  ho])(':  the  more  so- 
liines  doubtings  are  intermixed  with  it  in  ber  they  are,  the  less  will  they  fill  themselves 
the  souls  of  Christians,  yet  this  is  their  in-  with  the  coarse  delights  of  earth,  the  more 
firmity,  as  the  psalmist  speaks  (Psal.  Ixxvii.  room  will  there  be  in  them,  and  the  more 
10),  not  the  inlirmiiy  and  insullicieticy  of  the  they  shall  be  filled  with  this  hope.  It  is 
object  of  their  hope.  Worldly  luii)es  are  in  great  folly  in  our  sjiiritual  warfare  to  charge 
their  owu  nature  imperfect  :  they  do  imply,  ourselves  sujierfluously.  The  fulness  of  one 
in  their  very  being,  duubifulness  and  waver-  !  thing  hinders  the  receiving  and  admittance 
ing,  because  the  things  whereon  they  arc  of  any  other,  especially  ol"  things  so  opposite 
built  are  iuconstanl  and  uncertain,  and  i'uil  as  these  fulnesses  are.  Be  not  drnnir  with 
of  deceit  and  disappointments.  How  can  '  vine,  vherdn  is  excess,  Init  he  ye  Jilhd  icilh 
that  hope  be  inmioveable  which  is  built  upon  the  Holy  Ghost,  saith  the  apostle,  E])hes.  v. 
moving  sands  or  quagmire  ?  That  which  is  \  IS.  That  is  a  brutish  i'ulness,  which  makes 
itself  unfixed  can  not  give  stability  to  any  a  man  no  man  ;  this  divine  fulness  makes 
oiher  thing  resting  upon  it  :  but  because  the  |  him  more  than  a  man  ;  it  were  happy  to  be 
truth  and  goodness  of  the  immuiable  God  !  so  filled  with  this,  as  that  it  might  be  called 
arc  the  foundation  of  spiritual  hope,  there-  '  a  kind  of  drunkenness,  as  it  was  with  the 
fore  it  is  assured,  and  like  Mount  Zmn  that  j  apostles.  Acts  ii. 

can  not  be  removed  (Psal.  exxv.  1) :  and  this  !  Be  soher.'\  Or  watch.  The  same  word 
is  its  perfection.  J  signifies  both,  and  Avith  good  reason  ;  for  you 

Now  the  apostle  exhorts  his  brethren  to  '  know  the  unsober  can  not  watch.  Now 
endeavor  lohave  their  hearts  possessed  with  |  though  one  main  part  of  sobriety,  and  that 
as  high  a  measure  and  degree  of  this  hope  i  which  more  properly  and  particularly  bears 
as  maybe;  seeing  in  itself  it  is  so  perfect  '  this  name,  viz., /em^jerr/nrc  in  meat  and  drink, 
and  firm,  so  assured  a  hope,  he  would  have  '  is  here  intended  ;  and  though  against  the  op 
them  as])ire  to  all  the  assurance  and  perfec-  '  posite  to  this,  not  only  the  purity  and  spirit- 
tion  of  it  they  can  attain.  i  uality  of  religion,  but  even  moral  virtue  in- 

This  exercise  of  hojie,  as  I  conceive,  is  not  veighs  as  its  special  enemy,  yea,  nature  it- 
only  to  have  the  habit  of  it  strong  in  the  self :  and  they  that  only  naturally  consider 
soul,  but  to  act  it  often,  to  be  of(en  turning  the  body  and  its  interest  of  life  and  health, 
that  way,  to  view  that  approaching  day  of  find  reason  enoucfh  to  cry  down  this  base  in- 
liberty  :  Lift  vp  your  heads,  for  the  day  of  temperance,  wliich  is  so  hateful  by  its  own 
your  redemption  draireth  ni^h.  Luke  xxi.  28.  '  deformity,  and  withal  carries  its  punishment 
Where  this  hope  is  often  acted,  it  will  grow  along  with  it ;  although  (I  say)  this  sobriety 
strong,  as  all  habits  do  :  and  where  it  is  strong  1  is  indeed  most  necessary  for  the  preservation. 
It  will  v^^ork  much,  and  delight  to  act  often,  |  of  grace  and  of  the  spiritual  temper  of  the 
and  will  control  both  the  doubtings  and  the  soul,  and  is  here  intended,  yet,  I  conceive,  it 
other  many  impertinent  thoughts  of  the  is  not  all  that  is  here  meant ;  the  word  is 
mind,  and  force  them  to  yield  the  place  to  it.  |  more  general,  comprehending  the  moderate 
Certainly  they  who  long  much  for  that  com-  j  and  sober  use  of  all  things  worldly.  As  the 
ing  of  Christ,  will  often  look  up  to  it.  We  I  apostle  says,  Gird  up  the  Inins  of  your  mind, 
arc  usually  hoping  after  other  thinffs,  which  so  it  is  to  be  understood,  let  your  minds  be 
do  but  offer  themselves  to  draw  us  after  them,  sober,  all  your  affections  inwardly  attemjicr- 
and  to  scorn  us.  What  are  the  breasts  of  most  ed  to  your  spiritual  condition,  not  trlntting 
of  us,  but  so  many  nests  of  foolish  ho])es  and  yourselves  with  fleshy  and  perishing  delights 
fears  intermixed,  which  entertain  us  day  and  of  any  kind  ;  for  the  more  you  take  in  of 
night,  and  steal  away  our  precious  hours  j  these,  the  less  you  shall  have  of  spirittial 
from  us,  that  might  be  laid  out  so  gainfully  i  comfort  and  of  this  perfect  hope.  Tiiey  that 
ujjon  the  wise  and  sweet  thouo-hts  of  eter-  i  pour  out  themselves  upon  present  delights, 
iiity,  and  upon  the  blessed  and  assured  hope  '  look  not  like  strangers  here,  and  hopeful  ex- 
uf  the  coming  of  our  beloved  Savior  I  i  pectants  of  another  life  and  better  jileasures. 

The  other  words  of  exhortation  here  used,  I  And  certainly  the  captain  of  our  salvation 
are  subservient  lo  this  end,  and  this  iiope  j  will  not  own  them  for  his  followers,  who  lie 
may  be  the  more  perfect  and  firm  :  a  similar  !  down  to  drink  of  these  waters,  but  only  such 
exhortation  is  much  afier  the  same  manner  as  in  passing  take  of  them  with  their  hand, 
joined  by  our  Savior  (Luke  xii.  H5)  with  the  '  As  excessive  eating  or  drinking  both  makes 
expectance  and  waitinir  for  his  cominir :  and  1  the  body  sickly  and  lazy,  fit  for  nothing  but 
in  this  posture  the  Israelites,  eating  the  pas-  |  sleep,  and  besots  the  mind,  as  it  cloys  up 
Bover.  were  expectiiiij  their  deliverance  ;  so  |  with  filthy  crudities  the  ways  through  whi:h 
we  our  full  and  final  freedom.  I  the  spirit  should  pass,  bemiring  them  aad 


Vem  13.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETEH. 


103 


making  them  more  heavily,  as  a  coach  in  a 
deep  way  ;  thus  doth  all  inimoderate  use  of 
the  world,  and  its  delights,  wrong  the  soul  in 
its  spiritual  condition,  makes  it  sickly  and 
feehle,  full  of  spiriual  distempers  and  inac- 
tivity, benumbs  the  graces  of  ihe  Spirit,  and 
fills  the  soul  with  sleepy  vapors,  makes  it 
grow  secure  and  heavy  in  spiritual  exercises, 
and  obstructs  the  way  and  motion  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  in  the  soul.  Therefore,  if  you 
would  be  spiritual,  healthful,  and  vigorous, 
and  enjoy  much  ol'  the  consolations  of  heav- 
en, be  sparing  and  sober  in  those  of  the  earth, 
and  what  you  abate  of  the  one,  shall  be  cer- 
tainly made  up  in  the  other.  Health,  with 
a  good  constitution  of  body,  is  more  a  con- 
stant, permanent  pleasure,  than  that  of  ex- 
cess and  a  momentary  pleasing  of  the  palate  : 
thus  the  comfort  of  this  hope  is  a  more  re- 
fined and  more  abiding  contentment  than  any 
that  is  to  be  found  in  the  passing  enjoyments 
of  this  world  ;  and  it  is  a  foolish  bargain  to 
exchange  a  drachm  of  the  one  for  many 
pounds  of  the  other.  Consider  how  pres- 
singly  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  reasons,  1  Cor. 
ix.  25,  And  every  man  that  strive ih  for  the 
mastery  is  temperate  in  all  things.  And  take 
withal  our  Savior's  exhortation :  Be  sober 
and  vaich,  for  ye  know  nut  at  xchat  hour  your 
Lord  Will  come.    Matt.  xxv.  13.  | 

The  double-minded  man  (says  St.  James)  j.s 
unstable  in  all  Ins  irni/s.  Jam.  i.  8.  Although 
the  word  usually  signihes  deceitfulness  and 
dissimulation  (jf  mind — answering  to  the  He-  [ 
brew  phrase  a  heart  and  a  heart — yet  here  I 
conceive  it  hath  another  sense,  agreeable  to 
the  apostle's  prest-nt  discourse  and  scope  ;  it 
implies  doubtfulness  and  unsettled  wavering 
of  mind. 

It  is  impossible  that  the  course  of  life  can 
be  any  other  than  uneven  and  incomposed,  if 
the  spring  of  it,  the  heart,  whence  are  the  is- 
sues of  life,  be  so.  A  rnan  that  is  not  agreed 
within,  not  of  one  mind  with  himself,  al- 
thou:;ti  there  were  nothing  to  trouble  or  alter 
him  from  without,  that  inward  commotion  is 
a  f=*'*Iicient  principle  and  cause  of  inconstan- 
cy. How  much  more  then  must  he  waver, 
when  he  is  assaulted,  and  beat  upon  by  out- 
ward oppositions  !  He  is  like  the  waves  of 
the  sea,  of  himself  ever  (lu('luating  to  and 
fro,  according  to  the  natural  instability  of 
that  element,  and  at  the  same  time  exposed 
to  the  tossing  of  all  the  waves  that  arise. 

It  is,  therefore,  in  religion,  a  main  thing, 
to  have  the  heart  established  and  fixed  in  the 
oelief  and  hope  of  the  great  things  we  look 
for:  this  will  beget  strength  of  resolution, 
and  constancy  in  action,  and  in  sud'ering  tdo. 
And  this  is  here  our  apcjstle's  great  intent,  to 
ballast  tlie  souls  of  his  brethren  with  this 
firm  belief,  that  they  might  sail  even  and 
steady  in  those  seas  of  troulde.  Wherefore 
(says  he),  if  these  things  we  have  spoken  be 
thus,  if  'here  is  indeed  truth  in  them,  and 

Sou  believe  it  to  be  so,  what  remains  then, 
ui  to  resolve  for  it  upon  any  terms,  to  fit  out 


for  the  journey,  whatsoevti  be  the  difficult 
ties,  and  amid  them  all  to  keep  up  the  soul  by 
that  certain  hope  that  will  not  disappoint  us. 

What  he  hath  said  before,  is,  as  it  weie. 
showing  them  some  fruits,  some  clusters  of 
grapes,  of  that  promised  land  ;  and  this  ex- 
hortation is  answerable  to  Caleb's  words, 
I  Numb.  xiii.  30:  Seeing  it  so  good  a  land,  let 
us  go  up  and  possess  it.  Though  there  be 
fleshly  objects,  sy/i5  of  Anak,  giants  of  tempta- 
tions, and  afflictions,  and  sins  to  be  overcome, 
ere  it  be  ours,  yet  it  is  well  worth  all  our  la- 
bor, and  our  God  hath  ascertained  us  of  the 
victory,  and  given  us,  by  his  o^vn  word,  un- 
doubted hope  of  possessing  it. 

That  which  he  principally  exhorts  unto  in 
this  verse  is  the  right  placing  and  firm  con- 
tinuing of  our  hope.  When  we  consider  how 
much  of  our  life  is  taken  up  this  way,  in 
hoping  for  things  we  have  not,  and  that 
even  they  who  have  most  of  what  others 
are  desiring  and  pursuing,  are  still  hoping 
for  somewhat  further,  that  when  men  have 
attained  one  thing,  though  it  be  some- 
thing they  promised  themselves  to  rest  con- 
tented withal,  yet  presently  upon  obtaining 
it,  hope  begins  to  find  out  some  new  matter 
for  itself ;  I  say  considering  the  incessant 
working  of  this  passion  throughout  our  life, 
it  is  of  very  much  concernment  for  us  to  give 
it  a  right  object,  and  not  still  to  be  living  in 
vanity  and  uncertainty.  Here  is,  then,  that 
for  our  hope  to  apply  itself  to,  after  wliich  it 
needs  not  change,  nor  can  change  without  the 
greatest  loss.  Hope  for  the  arace  that  is 
coming  at  Ihe  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ ;  be- 
stow all  your  hope  on  this  and  recall  it  not. 
Hope  perfectly,  and  to  the  end. 

The  other  jiart  of  the  exhortation  relates  to 
this  as  the  main  end,  and  in  the  original  runs 
in  this  form  :  When  fore,  girding  up  the  loins 
of  your  mind,  being  sober,  hope.  And  to  the 
end  that  hope  may  be  the  more  perfect  and 
endure  to  the  end,  and  be  more  like  itself, 
i.  e.,  heavenly,  your  minds  must  be  freed 
from  the  earth,  that  they  may  set  for  heaven. 
And  this  is  expressed  in  two  several  words, 
but  both  meaning  much  the  same  thing : 
that  temper  of  sobriety,  and  that  posture  of 
being  s;irt,  are  no  other  than  the  some  remo- 
val of  earihly-mindedness  and  incumbering 
cares  and  desires  of  earthly  things. 

Gird  up  the  loins.'\  The  custom  of  those 
countries  was,  that  wearing  long  garments, 
they  trussed  them  up  for  work  or  a  journey. 
Chastity  is  indeed  a  Christian  grace,  and  a 
great  part  of  the  soul's  freedom  and  spiritual- 
ness,  and  fits  it  mu<"li  for  divine  things,  yet  I 
think  it  is  not  so  particularly  and  entirely  in- 
tended in  this  expression,  as  St.  Jerome  and 
others  take  it ;  for  though  the  girding  of  the 
loins  seemed  to  thorn  to  favor  that  sense,  it 
is  only  an  allusion  lo  the  manner  of  girding 
up  which  was  then  used  ;  and  besides,  the 
apostle  here  makes  it  ciear  that  he  meant 
somewhat  else  ;  for  he  says,  The  loins  of 
your  minds.    Gather  up  your  affections  thai 


104 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LChap.  I. 


they  1  aiig  not  down  to  hinder  you  in'your 
race,  anil  so,  in  your  hopes  of  tibiaining  ;  and 
do  not  only  gather  them  up,  but  tie  them  up, 
that  they  iall  not  down  again,  or  if  they  do, 
be  sure  to  gird  them  straiter  than  before. 
Thus  be  still  as  men  prepared  for  a  jouniey, 
tending  to  another  place.  This  is  not  our  home, 
nor  the  place  of  our  rest :  therefore  our  loins 
must  be  still  girt  up,  our  aifeciicMis  kejit  from 
training  and  dragging  down  upon  the  earth. 

Men  who  are  altogether  earthly  and  }irol'aiie, 
are  so  far  from  girding  up  the  loins  of  their 
mind,  that  they  set  th°m  wholly  downward. 
The  very  higlust  part  of  their  soul  is  glued 
to  the  earth,  and  they  are  daily  partakers  of 
the  serpent's  curse,  they  go  on  their  belly  and 
eat  the  dust:  they  7nind  tarthly  tilings.  Phil, 
li'.  19.  Now  this  disposition  is  inconsistent 
with  grace  :  but  they  thai  are  in  some  meas- 
u»e  truly  godly,  thouah  they  grovel  not  so, 
y<^i  may  be  somewhat  guilty  of  suffering 
♦.1. eir  affections  to  fall  too  low,  that  is,  to  be 
tt  0  much  conversant  with  vaniiy,  and  further 
etigaged  than  is  meet,  to  some  lhin<;s  that  are 
worldly  ;  and  by  this  means  they  may  abate 
of  their  heavenly  hopes,  and  render  them  less 
perfect,  less  clear  and  sensible  to  their  souls. 

And  because  they  are  most  subject  to  take 
this  liberty  in  the  fair  and  calm  weather  of 
prosperity,  God  doth  often  wisely  and  merci- 
fully cause  rough  blasts  of  affliction  to  arise 
upon  tliem,  to  make  them  gather  their  loose 
garments  nearer  to  them,  and  gird  them  closer. 

Let  us  then  remember  our  way,  and  where 
we  are,  and  keep  our  garments  girt  up,  for 
we  walk  amid  thorns  and  briers  which,  if 
we  let  them  down,  will  entangle  and  stop  us, 
and  possibly  tear  our  garments.    We  walk 
through  a  world  where  there  is  much  mire 
of  sinful  pollutions,  and  therefore  it  can  not 
but  defile  them  ;  and  the  crowd  we  are  among 
will  be  ready  to  tread  on  them,  yea,  our  own  j 
feet  may  be  entangled  in  them,  and  so  make  t 
us  stumble,  and  possibly  fall.  Our  only  safest ' 
way  is  to  gird  up  our  affections  wholly. 

This  perfect  hope  is  enforced  by  the  whole 
strain  of  it ;  for  well  may  we  fix  our  hope  on 
that  happiness  to  which  we  are  appointed  in 
the  eternal  election  of  God,  ver.  2,  and  born 
to  il  by  our  new  birth,  ver.  3,  4,  and  preserved 
to  it  by  his  almighty  jjower,  ver.  5,  and  can 
not  be  cut  short  of  it  by  all  the  afflictions  and 
oppositions  in  the  way  ;  no,  nor  so  much  as 
deprived  by  them  of  our  present  joy  and  com- 
fort in  the  assurance  of  il,  ver.  6,  7,  8,  9.  And 
then  being  taught  the  creatness  and  excel- 
lency of  that  blessed  salvation,  by  the  doc- 
trine of  the  prophets  and  apostles,  and  the  , 
admiration  of  angels,  all  these  conspire  to 
confirm  our  hope,  to  make  it  perfect  and  per- 
severing to  the  end. 

And  we  may  also  learn  by  the  foregoing 
doctrine,  thai  this  is  the  place  jf  our  irial  and 
conflict,  but  the  place  of  our  rest  is  above. 
We  must  here  have  our  loins  <;irt,  but  when 
eoine  there,  wemay  wearour  loiijr  white  robes 
at  llieir  full  length  without  disturbance,  for 


there  is  nothing  there  but  peace,  and  without 
danger  of  defilement,  for  no  unclean  thing  li 
there, yea  the  streets  of  that  new  Jerusalem  are 
paved  with  gold.  To  him,  then,  who  hath  pre- 
pared that  city  for  us,  let  us  ever  give  praise. 
Veb.  14.  As  obndienl  iliildren,  nol  t'asliioning  your- 
selves according  to  the  toriner  lusts,  in  your  igiia- 
riuice. 

Vr.R.  \o.  But  as  he  which  hath  called  you  is  holy^.^t 

be  ye  holy  in  all  manner  ol' conversation. 
Vf.k.  16.  Because  it  is  written,  Be  ye  holy,  lor  1  aro 
holy. 

Thy  word  is  a  lamp  unto  my  fed,  says  Da- 
v"  l,and  a  light  unfo  my  jialhs,  Psal.  cxix.  105  ; 
not  only  comfortable,  as  light  is  to  the  eyes, 
I  but  withal  directive,  as  a  lamp  to  his  feet. 
!  Thus  here  the  apostle  doth  not  only  furnish 
consolation  against  distress,  but  exhorts  and 
directs  his  brethren  in  the  way  of  holiness, 
without  which,  the  ajiprehension  and  feeling 
of  those  comforts  can  not  subsist. 
!     This  is  no  other  than  a  clearer  and  fuller 
expression,  and  further  ])ressing  of  that  so- 
briety and  spiritualness  of  mind  and  life, 
;  which  he  jointly  exhorted  unto,  with  that 
duty  of  perfect  hope,  ver.  13,  as  inseparably 
connected  with  it.    If  you  would  enjoy  this 
'  hope,  be  not  conformed  to  the  lusts  of  your 
former  ignorance,  but  be  holy. 

There  is  no  doctrine  in  the  world  either  so 
pleasant  or  so  pure  as  that  of  Christianity  :  it 
is  matchless,  both  in  sweetness  and  holiness. 
The  faith  and  hope  of  a  Christian  have  in 
them  an  abiding  precious  balni  of  comfort ; 
but  this  is  never  to  be  so  lavished  away,  as 
to  be  poured  into  the  puddle  of  an  impure 
conscience :  no,  that  were  to  lose  it  unwor- 
thily. As  many  as  have  this  hope  purify 
themselves,  even  as  lie  is  pure.  1  John  iii.  3. 
Here  they  arc  commanded  to  be  holy  as  he  is 
holy.  Faith  first  purifies  the  heart  (Acts  xv. 
9),  empties  it  of  the  love  of  sin,  and  then  fills 
il  with  the  consolation  of  Christ  and  the  hope 
of  glory. 

It  is  a  foolish  misgrounded  fear,  and  such 
as  argues  inexperience  of  the  nature  and 
workings  of  divine  grace,  to  imagine  that  the 
assured  hope  of  salvation  will  beget  unholi- 
ness  and  presumptuous  boldness  in  sin,  and 
that  therefore  the  doctrine  of  that  assurance 
is  a  doctrine  of  licentiousness.  Our  apostle, 
we  see,  is  not  so  sharp-sighted  as  these  men 
think  themselves ;  he  apprehends  no  such 
matter,  but  indeed  supposes  the  contrary  as 
unquestionable  ;  he  takes  not  assured  hope 
and  holiness  as  enemies,  but  joins  them  as 
nearest  friends  :  hope  perfectly,  and  be  Iwly. 

They  are  mutually  slrensrthened  and  in- 
creased each  by  the  other.  The  more  assu- 
rance of  salvation,  the  more  holiness,  the 
more  delight  in  it,  and  study  of  it  as  the  only 
way  to  thai  end.  And  as  labor  is  most  pleas- 
ant when  we  are  made  surest  it  shall  not  be 
lost,  nothing  doih  make  the  soul  so  nimble  and 
active  in  obedience  as  this  oil  of  gladness,  this 
assured  hope  of  glory.  Again,  the  more  ho- 
liness there  is  in  the  soul,  the  clearer  always 
is  this  assurance ;  as  we  see  the  /ace  of  the 


Ver.  14—16.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


lOi 


heavens  best,  when  mere  are  fewest  clouds. 
The  greatest  affliction  doth  not  damp  this 
hope  so  much  as  the  smallest  sin  ;  yea,  it  may 
be  the  more  lively  and  sensible  to  the  soul 
by  affliction  ;  but  by  sin  it  always  suffers  loss, 
as  the  cxpcrieoce  of  all  Christians  does  cer- 
tainly teach  them. 

The  aposile  exhorts  to  obedience,  and  en- 
forceth  ii  by  a  most  persuasive  reason.  His 
exhortation  is,  1.  Negative,  Not  fashioning 
yourselves.    2.  Positive,  Be  ye  holy. 

1.  For  the  negative  part  of  the  exhortation. 
That  from  which  he  would  remove  and  sep- 
arate them  is  lusts :  this  is  in  Scripture  the 
usual  name  of  all  the  irregular  and  sinful  de- 
sires of  the  heart,  both  the  polluted  habits  of 
them  and  their  corrupt  streams,  both  as  they 
exist  within  and  as  they  outwardly  vent 
themselves  in  the  lives  of  men.  The  apostle 
St.  John  (1  John  ii.  17)  calls  it  the  Lust  of 
the  world,  and  (verse  15)  Love  of  the  world  ; 
and  then  (verse  IG)  branches  it  into  those 
three,  which  are,  indeed,  the  base  anti-trin- 
ity that  the  world  worships.  The  lust  of  the 
eyes,  the  lust  of  the  fesh,  and  the  pride  of  life. 

The  soul  of  man  unconverted  is  no  other 
than  a  den  of  impure  lusts,  wherein  dwell 
pride  and  uncleanness,  avarice,  malice,  ice, 
just  as  Babylon  is  described,  Rev.  xviii.  2,  or 
as  Isa.  xiii.  21.  Were  a  man's  eyes  opened, 
he  would  as  much  abhor  to  remain  with  liiin- 
self  in  that  ccjndition  as  to  dwell  in  a  house 
full  of  snakes  and  serpents,  as  St.  Austin  says. 
And  the  first  part  of  conversion  is  at  once  to 
rid  the  soul  of  these  noisome  inhabitants  ;  for 
there  is  no  one  at  all  found  naturally  vacant 
and  free  I'rorii  them.  Thus  the  apostle  here 
expresses  of  the  believers  to  whom  he  wrote, 
that  these  lusts  were  theirs  before,  in  their 
ignorance. 

There  is  a  truth  imj)lied  in  it,  viz.,  that  all 
sin  arises  from  some  kind  of  ignorance,  or,  at 
least,  from  present  inadvertence  and  inconsid- 
eration,  turning  away  the  mind  from  the 
light ;  which  therefore,  for  the  time,  is  as  if 
it  were  not,  and  is  all  one  with  ignorance  in 
the  effect,  and  therefore  the  works  of  sin  are 
all  called  works  of  darkness  ;  for  were  the  true 
visage  of  sin  seen  by  a  fult  light,  undressed 
and  unpainted,  it  were  impossible,  while  it 
so  appeared,  that  any  one  soul  could  be  in 
love  with  it  ;  it  would  rather  Hy  it,  as  hid- 
eous and  at)oininable.  But  because  the  soul 
unrenewed  is  all  darkness,  therefore  it  is  all 
lust  and  love  of  sin  ;  there  is  no  order  in  it, 
because  no  light.  As  at  the  first  in  the 
world,  confusion  and  darkness  went  together, 
and  darkness  was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep,  it 
is  so  in  the  soul :  the  more  ignorance,  the 
more  abundance  of  lusts. 

That  light  which  frees  the  soul,  and  resr 
cues  it  fr(jin  the  very  kingdom  of  darkness, 
must  be  somewhat  beyond  that  which  nature 
can  attain  lo.  All  the  light  of  philosophy, 
natural  and  moral,  is  not  sufficient,  vea,  the 
very  knowledge  of  tlie  law,  severed  frori 
Christ,  serves  not  so  to  enlighten  and  renew 
14 


the  soul,  as  to  free  it  from  the  darVness  or 
ignorance  here  spoken  of;  for  our  apostle 
writes  to  Jews  who  knew  the  law,  and  were 
instructed  in  it  before  their  conversion  ;  yet 
he  calls  those  times,  wherein  Christ  was  un- 
known to  them,  the  times  of  their  ignorance. 
Though  the  stars  shine  never  so  bright,  and 
the  moon  with  thein  in  its  full,  yet  they  do 
not  altogether  make  it  day  ;  still  it  is  night 
till  the  sun  appear.  Therefore  the  Hebrew 
doctors,  upon  that  word  of  Solomon's,  Vanity 
of  vanities,  all  is  vanity,  say,  Vana  etiam  lex, 
donee  venerit  Messias :  Vain  even  the  law 
until  Messiah  come.  Therefore  of  him  Zach- 
ariah  says,  The  day-spring  from  on  high  hath 
visited  us,  to  give  light  to  them  that  sit  in 
darkness  and  in  the  shadow  of  death,  and  to 
Siuide  our  feet  into  the  way  of  peace,  Luke  i. 
78,  79. 

A  natural  man  may  attain  to  very  much 
acquired  knowledge  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ, 
and  may  discourse  excellently  of  it,  and  yet 
still  his  soul  be  in  the  chains  of  darkness, 
fast  locked  up  under  the  ignorance  here  men- 
tioned, and  so  he  may  be  still  of  a  carnal 
mind,  in  subjection  to  these  lusts  of  ignorance. 

The  saving  light  of  faith  is  a  beam  of  the 
Sun  of  Righteousness  himself,  that  he  sends 
into  tne  soul,  by  which  lie  makes  it  discern 
his  incomparable  beauties,  and  by  that  sight 
alienates  it  from  all  those  lusts  and  desires, 
which  do  then  appear  lo  be  what  indeed  they 
are,  vileness  and  filthiness  itself,  making  the 
soul  wonder  at  itself,  how  it  could  love  such 
base  trash  so  long,  and  fully  resolve  now  on 
the  choice  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  chief  amona 
ten  thousands,  Cant.  v.  10,  yea,  the  fairest 
of  the  children  of  men,  Psal.  xlv.  2,  for  that 
he  is  withal  the  only-begotten  Son  of  (lod, 
the  brightness  of  his  Fathers  glory,  and  the 
express  image  of  his  person,  Heb.  i.  3. 

The  soul  once  acquainted  with  him,  can, 
with  disdain,  turn  off  all  the  base  solicita- 
tions and  importunities  of  sin,  and  coirimand 
them  away  that  formerly  had  coiimiand  over 
it,  though  tliey  plead  fortner  familiarities  and 
the  interest  they  once  had  in  the  heart  of  the 
Christian  before  it  was  enlightened  and  re- 
newed. He  can  well  tell  thoni,  after  his 
sight  of  Christ,  that  it  is  true,  while  he  knew 
no  better  j)leasures  than  they  were,  he  thought 
them  lovely  and  pleasing  ;  but  that  one  glance 
of  the  face  of  Jesus  Clirist  haih  turned  them 
all  into  extreme  blackness  and  deformity  , 
that  so  soon  as  ever  Christ  appeared  to  him, 
they  straightway  lost  all  their  credit  and  es- 
teem in  his  heart,  and  have  lost  it  for  ever; 
they  need  never  look  to  recover  it  any  more. 

And  it  is  by  this  that  the  apostle  enforceth 
this  dehortation.  It  is  true,  that  the  lusts 
and  vanities  that  are  in  request  in  the  world 
were  so  with  you,  but  it  was  when  you  were 
blind,  they  were  the  lusts  of  your  ignorance: 
but  now  you  know  how  ill  they  will  suit 
with  the  light  of  that  gosjiel  which  you  pro- 
fess, and  tliat  inward  light  of  faith  which  is 
'n  the  souls  of  such  as  be  really  believers. 


« 


106 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


lChap  1, 


Therefore,  seein^^  yi)U  have  renounced  | 
them,  keep  iheni  still  at  thai  distance:  nut 
only  never  admit  them  more  to  lodi;e  within 
you  :  tiiai  surely  you  can  not  do  ;  but  do  not 
60  much  as  for  custom  sake,  and  in  compli- 
ance witli  the  world  about  you,  outwardly 
conform  yourselves  to  any  of  them,  or  make 
semblance  to  ])ariake  ol'  them:  as  St.  Paul 
says,  //«(■<•  no  more  fellowship  wil/t  the  iinfrvil- 
fjul  icorks  of  (lar/incss,  hut  ralhcr  reprove  ihcm, 
.  Eph.  V.  11;  reprove  them  by  your  carriage, 
and  let  the  light  of  \o\xr  holy  lives  discover 
their  f  ulness. 

II.  We  have  the  positive  part  of  tiie  apos- 
tle's exhortation.  Be  ye  Itoly.  This  includes 
the  former,  the  renoiincing  of  the  lusis  and 
pollutions  of  the  world,  both  in  heart  and 
life  ;  and  adds  to  it,  further,  the  filling  of  their 
room,  being  cast  out,  with  the  beautifying 
graces  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  the  acting  of 
those  graces  in  their  whole  conversation, 
both  in  private  and  abroad,  m  conversing 
with  themselves,  and  conversing  with  others, 
whether  good  or  bad,  in  a  constant  even 
course,  still  like  themselves,  and  like  him 
who  hath  called  them:  for  it  is  a  most  un- 
seemly and  unpleasant  thing  to  see  a  man's 
life  full  of  ups  and  downs,  one  step  like  a 
Christian  and  another  like  a  worldling;  it 
can  not  choose  but  both  i)ain  himself  and  mar 
the  edification  of  others. 

But  as  He  tc/iicli  halh  called  you  is  hohj.~\ 
Consider  whose  you  are,  and  you  can  not 
deny  that  it  becomes  you  to  be  holy.  Con- 
sider your  near  relation  to  the  holy  God  :  this 
is  expressed  two  ways,  namely,  As  children, 
and  As  he  which  liath  called  ifv-  ;  which  is 
all  one  as  if  he  had  said,  hath  begotten  you 
again.  The  very  outward  vocation  of  those 
who  profess  Christ,  presseth  holiness  upon 
them,  but  the  inward  vocation  far  more. 
You  were  rumiing  to  destruction  in  the  way 
of  sin,  and  there  was  a  voice  which,  together 
with  the  gospel  preached  to  your  ear,  spake 
into  your  heart,  and  called  you  back  from 
that  path  of  death  to  the  way  of  holiness, 
which  is  the  only  way  of  life.  He  hath  sev- 
ered you  from  the  mass  of  the  profane  world, 
and  i)icked  you  out  to  be  jewels  for  himself 
He  hath  set  you  a])art  for  this  end,  that  you 
may  be  hoUj  to  him  (as  the  Hebrew  word 
which  signifies  holiness,  imports. ^e/Z/w^  opart, 
or  fittuig  for  a  peculiar  use)  :  be  not  then  un- 
true to  liis  design,  //e  hath  not  called  you 
unto  uncleanness,  but  unto  holiness,  1  Thess. 
iv.  7 :  therefore  l/e  ye  hnly.  It  is  sacrilege 
lor  you  to  dispense  of  yourselves  after  the  im- 
pure manner  of  the  world,  and  to  apply  your- 
selves to  any  profane  use,  whom  God  hath 
consecrated  to  himself 

As  rhildrrn.]  This  is,  no  doubt,  relative 
to  that  which  he  spoke,  verse  3,  by  way  of 
thanksgiving-:  and  that  vherefnre  in  the  13th 
ferse,  draws  it  down  hither  byway  of  exhor- 
tation. Seeing  you  are,  by  a  spiritual  and 
new  birth,  the  children  of  so  great  and  good 
a  father,  who  commands  you  to  holiness,  be 


obedient  children,  in  being  holy  :  and  seemg 
he  himself  is  most  holy,  be  like  him  as  his 
children.  Be  ye  holy,  as  he  is  holy. 

As  obedient  children.']  Opposed  o  tiiat 
expression,  Eph.  ii.  2,  sons  of  disobedience,  or 
unhelirf,  as  the  word  may  be  rendered,  and 
that  is  always  the  spring  of  disobedience; 
sons  of  niispersuasibleness,  who  will  not  be 
drawn  and  persuaded  by  the  tcnderesi  mer- 
cies of  God.  Now,  though  this  Hebrew 
manner  of  speech,  sons  of  obedience  or  diso- 
bedience, signifies  no  more  than  obedient  or 
disobedient  persons,  yet  it  doth  signify  them 
most  emi)hatically,  and  means  a  higii  degree 
of  obedience  or  disobedience  ;  these  sons  of 
disobedience,  verse  2,  are  likewise  sons  of 
lerath,  verse  3. 

Of  all  children  the  children  of  God  are  the 
most  obliged  to  obedience,  for  he  is  both  the 
wisest  and  the  most  loving  of  fathers.  And 
the  sum  of  all  his  commands  is  that  which  is 
their  glory  and  happiness,  that  they  endeavor 
!  to  be  like  him,  to  resemble  their  heavenly 
Father.  Be  ye  perfect,  as  your  heavenly  Fa- 
ther is  perfect,  says  our  Savior,  Watt.  v.  48. 
And  here  the  apostle  is  citing  out  of  the  law  • 
Be  ye  holy,  for  I  am  holy,  Levit.  xi.  44.  Law 
and  gospel  agree  in  this.  Again :  childrei 
who  resemble  their  fathers,  as  they  growuj 
in  years,  they  grow  the  more  like  to  them 
thus  the  children  of  God  do  increase  in  theif 
resemblance,  and  are  daily  more  and  more 
renewed  after  his  image.  There  is  in  them 
1  an  innate  likeness,  by  reason  of  his  image 
I  impressed  on  them  in  their  first  renovation, 
;  and  his  spirit  dwelling  within  tbeni :  and 
there  is  a  continual  increase  of  it,  arising  from 
their  pious  imitation  and  study  of  conformity 
which  is  here  exhorted  to. 

The  imitation  of  vicious  men  and  the  cor 
rupt  world  is  here  forbidden.  The  imitation 
of  men's  indiflerent  customs  is  base  and  ser- 
vile :  the  imitation  of  the  virtues  of  good  men 
is  commendable  ;  but  the  imitation  of  this 
highest  pattern,  this  primitive  goodness,  the 
most  holy  God,  is  the  top  of  excellency.  It 
is  well  said,  Summa  reliaionis  est  imitari 
quern  cnlis :  The  essence  of  religion  consists 
in  the  imitation  of  him  we  worship.  All  of 
us  offer  him  some  kind  of  worship,  but  few 
seriously  study  and  endeavor  this  blessed  con- 
form iiy. 

There  is  unquestionably,  among  those  who 
profess  themselves  the  people  of  God,  a  select 
number  who  are  indeed  his  children,  anu 
bear  his  image  both  in  their  hearts  and  in 
their  lives:  this  impression  of  holiness  is  on 
their  souls  and  their  conversation  :  but  with 
the  most,  a  name  and  a  form  of  godliness  are 
all  they  have  for  religion.  Alas!  we  speak 
of  holiness,  and  we  hear  of  it,  and  it  may  be 
we  commend  it,  but  we  act  it  not ;  or,  if  we 
do,  it  is  but  an  acting  of  it,  in  the  sense  in 
which  the  word  is  often  taken  for  a  persona- 
ted acting,  as  on  a  stage  in  the  sight  of  men  j 
not  as  in  the  sight  of  our  lovely  (rod,  lodg- 
ing it  in  our  hearts,  and  thence  diffusing  ii 


Ver.  17.] 


FIKST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


107 


into  all  our  a.uc  .s.  A  child  is  iruly  like  his 
father,  when  not  only  iiis  visage  resembles 
him,  but  still  more  so  his  mind  and  inward 
disposition  :  thus  are  the  true  children  of  God 
like  their  heavenly  Faiher  in  their  words  and 
in  their  aciions,  but  most  of  all  in  heart. 

It  is  no  matter  though  the  profane  world 
(which  so  hates  God  that  it  can  not  endure 
his  image)  do  mock  and  revile  ;  it  is  thy 
honor  to  be,  as  David  said,  2  Sam.  vi.  22, 
thus  more  vile,  in  growing  still  more  like  unto 
him  in  ho-liness.  What  though  the  polite 
man  count  thy  fashion  a  little  odd  and  too 
precise ;  it  is  because  he  knows  nothing 
above  that  model  of  goodness  which  he  hath 
set  himself,  and  therefore  approves  of  nothing 
beyond  it :  he  knows  not  God,  and  therefore 
doth  not  discern  and  esteem  what  is  most 
like  him.  When  courtiers  come  down  into 
the  country,  the  common  homebred  people 
possibly  think  their  habit  strange,  but  they 
care  not  for  that,  it  is  the  fashion  at  court. 
What  need  then  that  the  godly  should  be  so 
tender-foreheaded,  as  to  be  put  out  of  counte- 
nance because  the  world  looks  on  holiness  as  a 
singularity  ?  it  is  the  only  fashion  in  tiie  high- 
est court,  yea,  of  the  King  of  kings  himself. 

Fnr  I  am  holy.]  As  it  will  raise  our  en- 
deavor high  to  look  on  the  highest  pattern, 
so  it  will  lay  our  thoughts  low  concerning 
ourselves.  Men  compare  themselves  with 
men,  and  readily  with  ihe  worst,  and  flatter 
themselves  with  that  comparative  betlerness. 
This  is  not  the  way  to  see  our  spots,  to  look 
into  the  muddy  streams  of  profane  men's 
lives:  but  look  into  the  clear  founiain  of  the 
word,  and  there  we  may  both  discern  and 
wash  them.  Consider  the  infinite  holiness 
of  God,  and  this  will  humble  us  to  the  dust. 
When  Isaiah  saw  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and 
heard  the  sera[)him  cry,  l/nhj,  holy,  hob/,  he 
cried  out  of  !iis  own  and  the  peojjle's  unholi- 
ness.  Wo  is  me,  for  I  am  umlone,  for  I  am 
a  man  if  unclean  lips,  and  I  ilwell  in  the  midsl 
of  a  people  of  unclean  lips  ;  for  mine  eyes 
have  seen  Ihe  King,  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  Chap, 
vi.  3,'4. 

Ver.  17.  And  if  ye  call  on  the  father,  who  without 
respect  of  ixTsons  judeteth  according  to  every  man's 
work,  pass  the  time  of  your  sojourning  here  in  fear. 

The  temptations  which  meet  a  Christian 
in  the  world,  to  turn  him  aside  from  the 
straight  way  of  obedience  and  holiness,  are 
either  such  as  present  the  hope  of  some  ap- 
parent good,  to  draw  him  from  that  way,  or 
the  fear  of  some  evil,  to  drive  and  afTright 
him  from  it  ;  and  therefore  the  word  of  God 
is  much  in  strengthening  the  Christian  mind 
against  these  two:  and  it  doth  it  especially, 
by  [)r;ssessing  it  both  with  hopes  and  fears  of 
a  higher  nature,  that  do  by  far  weigh  down 
the  other. 

The  most  frequent  assaults  of  temptation 
are  upon  'h<?se  two  passions  of  the  mind: 
therefore  they  are  chiefly  to  be  fortified  and 
defended  by  a  nope  and  fear  opposite  to  those 


that  do  assault  its,  and  sufficiently  strong  to 
resist  and  repel  them. 

These  two,  therefore,  our  apostle  h3re 
urges:  1.  The  hope  of  that  glory  which  the 
gospel  propounds,  and  so  outbids  all  the  prof- 
fers of  the  world,  both  in  the  greatness  and 
the  certainty  of  its  promises.  2.  The  fear 
of  God,  the  greatest  and  justest  judge,  alone 
worthy  to  be  feared  and  reverenced :  the 
highest  anger  and  enmity  of  all  the  world 
being  less  than  nothing,  in  comparison  of  his 
smallest  displeasure.    We  have  here, 

L  This  fear.  IL  The  reason  enforcing  it. 
in.  The  term  or  continuance  of  it. 

I.  The  fear  itself.  In  fear.  But  how  suits 
this  with  the  high  discourse  that  went  be- 
fore, of  perfect  assured  hope,  of  faith,  and 
love,  and  joy,  yea,  joy  unspeakable  and  glo- 
rious, arising  out  of  these  ?  How  are  all 
those  excellences  fallen,  as  it  were,  into  a 
dungeon,  when  fear  is  mentioned  after  them! 
Doth  not  the  Apostle  St.  John  say,  that  True 
love  cnslelh  out  fear?  1  John  iv.  18.  And 
is  it  not  more  clearly  opposite  to  perfect  or 
assured  hope,  and  to  faith  and  joy  ? 

If  ye  understand  it  aright,  this  is  such  a 
fear  as  doth  not  prejudice,  but  preserve  those 
other  graces,  and  the  comfort  and  joy  that 
arise  from  them  ;  and  they  all  agree  so  well 
with  it,  that  they  are  naturally  helps  to  each 
other. 

It  were  superfluous  to  insist  on  the  deft- 
ning  of  this  passion  of  fear,  and  the  manifold 
distinctions  of  it,  either  with  philosophers  or 
divines.  The  fear  here  recommended  is,  out 
of  question,  a  holy  self-sus[)icion  and  fear  of 
otTending  God,  which  may  not  only  consist 
with  assured  hope  of  salvation,  and  with 
faith,  and  love,  and  spiritual  joy ,  but  is  their 
insej)arable  companion  ;  as  all  divine  graces 
are  linked  together  (as  the  heathens  said  of 
their  three  graces),  and,  as  they  dwell  to- 
gether, they  ffrow  or  decrease  together.  The 
more  a  Christian  believes,  and  loves,  and  re- 
joices in  the  love  of  God,  the  more  unwilling 
surely  he  is  to  displease  him,  and  if  in  dan- 
ger of  displeasing  him,  the  more  afraid  of  it ; 
and,  on  the  other  side,  this  fVar  being  the 
true  principle  of  a  wary  and  holy  conversa- 
tion, fleeing  sin,  and  the  occasions  of  sin,  and 
temptations  to  it,  and  resisting  them  when 
they  make  an  assault,  is  as  a  watch  or  guard 
that  keeps  out  the  enemies  and  disturbers  of 
the  soul,  and  so  preserves  its  inward  peace, 
keeps  the  assurance  of  faith  and  hope  unmo- 
lested, and  that  joy  which  they  cause,  and 
the  intercourse  and  societies  of  love  between 
the  soul  and  her  beloved,  uninterrupted  :  all 
which  are  most  in  danger  when  this  fear 
abates  and  falls  to  slumbering  ;  for  then  some 
nn'able  sin  or  other  is  ready  to  break  in  and 
put  all  into  disorder,  and  for  a  lime  make 
those  graces,  and  the  comfort  of  them  to  pres- 
ent feeling,  as  much  to  seek  ac  if  they  were 
not  tiiere  at  all. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  the  apostles,  harix\,'» 
stirred  up  his  Christian  brethren,  whitco.^vt* 


108  A  COMMENTA 

be  tlu'ir  estate  in  the  -worlcK  to  seek  to  be 
rich  in  tliose  jewels  of  Aiiih,  anJ  hope,  and 
love,  and  spiriiual  joy,  and  tlien,  considerinr; 
that  they  travel  amoni^  a  world  of  thieves  and 
robbers — no  wonder,  I  say,  that  he  adds  this, 
advises  them  to  s^ive  those  their  jewels  in 
custody,  under  God,  to  this  trusty  and  watch- 
ful grace  ol' godly  fear  ;  and  having  earnestly 
exhorted  iheiii  to  holiness,  he  is  very  fitly 
particular  in  this  fear,  which  makes  up  so 
great  a  part  of  that  holiness,  that  it  is  often 
in  scripture  named  for  it  all. 

Solomon  calls  it  the  /jeginnine,  or  the  top 
of  wisdom,  Prov.  xv.  33  ;  the  word  signifies 
both,  and  it  is  both.  The  beginning  of  it  is 
the  begmning  of  wisdom,  and  the  progress 
and  increase  of  it  is  the  increase  of  wisdom. 
That  hardy  rashness  which  many  account 
valor  is  the  companion  of  ignorance  ;  and  of 
all  rashness,  boldness  to  sin  is  the  most  wit- 
less and  foolish.  There  is  in  this,  as  in  all 
fear,  an  apprehension  of  an  evil  whereof  we 
are  in  danger.  The  evil  is  sin,  and  the  dis- 
pleasure of  God  and  punishment  following 
Upon  sin.  The  godly  man  judgeth  wisely,  as 
the  truth  is,  that  sin  is  the  greatest  of  e'vils, 
and  the  cause  of  all  other  evils  ;  it  is  a  trans- 
gression of  the  just  law  of  God,  and  so  a 
provocation  of  his  just  ansicr,  and  the  cause 
of  those  punishments,  temporal,  spiritual, 
and  eternal,  which  he  inflicts.  And  then, 
considering  how  mighty  he  is  to  punish,  con- 
sidering both  the  power  and  the  reach  of  his 
hand,  that  it  is  both  most  heavy  and  unavoid- 
able ;  all  these  things  may  and  should  concur 
to  the  working  of  this  fear. 

There  is,  no  doubt,  a  great  difference  be- 
tween those  two  kinds  of  fear  that  are  usu- 
ally differenced  by  the  names  of  servile  and 
Jilial  tear ;  but  certainly  the  most  genuine 
fear  of  the  sons  of  God,  who  call  him  Father, 
doth  not  exclude  the  consideration  of  his  jus- 
tice and  of  the  punishment  of  sin  which  his 
justice  inflicts.  We  see  here,  it  is  used  as 
the  great  motive  of  this  fear,  that  he  judircth 
every  man  accoriling  to  his  works.  And  Da- 
vid in  that  psalm  wherein  he  so  much 
breathes  forth  those  other  sweet  affections  of 
love,  and  hope,  and  delight  in  God  and  in  his 
word,  yet  expresseth  this  fear  even  of  the 
justice  of  God  :  My  flesh  tremhleth  for  fear 
of  thee,  and  I  am  afraid  of  thy  jud(rmenls. 
Ps.  cxix.  120.  The  flesh  is  to  be  awed  by  di- 
vine judgments,  though  the  higher  and  surer 
part  of  the  soul  is  strongly  and  freely  tied 
with  the  cords  of  love.  Temporal  correc- 
tions, indeed,  they  fear  not  so  much  in  them- 
selves, as  that  impression  of  wrath  that  may 
be  upon  them  for  their  sins.  Ps.  vi.  1.  That 
IS  the  main  matter  of  their  fear,  because  their 
happiness  is  in  his  love,  and  the  light  of  his 
^.ountenance,  that  is  their  life.  They  regard 
not  how  the  world  looks  upon  them ;  they 
care  not  who  frown,  so  he  smile  on  them  : 
because  no  other  enemy  nor  evil  in  the  world 
can  deprive  them  of  this  but  their  own  sin, 
therefore  that  is  what  they  fear  most. 


lY  UPON  THE  [Chap,  l 

As  the  evil  is  great,  so  the  Christian  hatL 
great  reason  to  fear  in  regard  of  his  dange. 
of  it,  considering  the  multitude,  strength,  and 
craft  of  his  enemies,  and  his  own  weakness 
and  unskilfulness  to  resist  them.  And  his 
sad  exi)erience  in  being  often  I'oiled,  teacheth 
him  that  it  is  thus ;  he  can  not  be  ignorant 
of  it  :  he  finds  how  often  his  own  resolutions 
and  purposes  deceive  him.  Certainly  a  godly 
man  is  sometimes  driven  to  wonder  at  his 
own  frailty  and  inconstancy.  What  strange 
differences  will  be  between  him  and  himself: 
how  high  and  how  delightful  at  some  times 
are  his  thoughts  of  God  and  the  glory  of  the 
life  to  come  ;  and  yet,  how  easily  at  another 
time  base  temptations  will  beinire  him,  or, 
at  the  least,  molest  and  vex  him  !  And  this 
keeps  him  in  a  continual  fear,  and  that  fear 
in  continual  vigilancy  and  circumspectness. 
When  he  looks  up  to  God,  and  considers  the 
truth  of  his  promises,  and  the  sufliciency  of 
his  grace  and  protection,  and  the  almighty 
strength  of  his  Redeemer,  these  things  fill  his 
soul  with  confidence  and  assurance  ;  but  when 
he  turns  his  eye  downward  again  upon  him- 
self, and  finds'  so  much  remaining  corruption 
within,  and  so  many  temptations,  and  dan- 
gers, and  adversaries  without,  this  forces  him 
not  onlv  to  fear,  but  to  despair  of  himself; 
and  it  should  do  so,  that  his  trust  in  God  may 
be  the  purer  and  more  entire.  That  confi- 
dence in  God  will  not  make  him  secure  and 
presumptuous  in  himself",  nor  that  fear  of 
himself  make  him  difl^ident  of  God.  This 
fear  is  not  opposite  to  faith,  but  highminded- 
ness  and  presumption  are.  See  Rom.  xi.  20. 
To  a  natural  man,  it  would  seem  an  odd  kind 
of  reasoning  that  of  the  apostle,  Phil.  ii.  12, 
13:  //  is  God  that  worheth  in  you  to  will  and 
to  do  of  his  good  pleasure  :  therefore  (would 
he  think),  you  may  save  labor,  you  may  sit 
still,  and  not  work,  or,  if  you  work,  you  may 
work  fearlessly,  being  so  sure  of  his  help: 
but  the  apostle  is  of  another  mind  ;  his  infer- 
ence is.  Therefore,  ivork  out  your  aim  salva- 
tion, and  work  it  with  fear  and  tremhiins- 

But  he  thai  hath  assurance  of  salvation, 
why  should  he  fear  ?  If  there  is  truth  in  his 
assurance,  nothing  can  disappoint  him,  not 
sin  itself.  It  is  true  ;  but  it  is  no  less  true, 
that  if  he  do  not  fear  to  sin,  there  is  no  truth 
in  his  assurance  :  it  is  not  the  assurance  of 
faith,  but  the  raispersuasion  of  a  secure  and 
profane  mind.  Suppose  it  so,  that  the  sins 
of  a  godly  man  can  not  be  such  as  to  cut  him 
short  of  that  salvation  whereof  he  is  assured  ; 
yet  they  may  be  such  as  for  a  time  will  de- 
prive him  of  that  assurance,  and  lujt  only  re- 
move the  comfort  he  hath  in  that,  hut  let  in 
horrors  and  anguish  of  conscience  in  its  stead. 
Though  a  believer  is  freed  from  hell  (and  we 
may  overstrain  this  assurance,  in  our  doctrine, 
beyond  what  the  soberest  and  devoutest  men 
in  the  world  can  ever  find  in  themselves, 
though  they  will  not  trouble  themselves  to 
contest  and  dispute  with  them  that  say  they 
have  it),  so  that  his  soul  can  not  come  there 


Ver.  17.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


109 


yet  some  sins  miy  hung  as  it  were  a  hell  into 
his  soul  for  a  time,  and  this  is  reason  enough 
for  any  Chrisiiaii  in  his  right  wits  to  be  afraid 
of  sin.  No  man  would  willingly  hazard  him- 
self upon  a  fall  that  may  break  his  leg,  or 
some  other  bone  ;  though  he  could  be  made 
sure  that  he  should  not  break  his  neck,  or 
that  his  life  were  not  at  all  in  danger,  and 
that  he  should  be  perfectly  cured,  yet  the 
pain  and  trouble  of  such  a  hurt  would  terrify 
him,  and  make  him  wary  and  fearful  when 
he  walks  m  danger.  The  broken  bones  that 
David  complains  of  after  his  fall,  may  work 
fear  and  wariness  in  those  that  hear  him, 
though  they  were  ascertained  of  a  like  re- 
covery. 

This  fear  is  not  cowardice  :  it  doth  not  de- 
base, but  elevates  the  mind  ;  for  it  drowns 
all  lower  fears,  and  begets  true  fortitude 
ana  courage  to  encounter  all  dangers,  for  the 
sake  of  a  good  conscience  and  the  obeying  of 
God.  The  righteous  is  hold  as  a  lion.  Prov. 
Kxviii.  1.  He  dares  do  anything  but  offend 
God  ;  and  to  dare  to  do  thai  is  the  greatest 
folly,  and  weakness,  and  baseness,  in  the 
world.  From  this  fear  have  sprung  all 
the  generous  resolutions  and  patient  suffer- 
ings of  the  saints  and  martyrs  of  God  ;  be- 
cause they  durst  not  sin  against  him,  there- 
fore they  durst  be  imprisoned,  and  impover- 
ished, and  tortured,  and  die  for  him.  Thus 
the  prophet  sets  carnal  and  godly  fear  as  op- 
posite, and  the  one  expelling  the  other,  Tsai. 
viii.  12,  13.  And  our  Savior,  Luke  xii.  4, 
Fear  not  them  that  kill  the  body  ;  hut  fear 
Him  which,  after  he  hath  killed,  hath  power  to 
cast  into  hell ;  yea,  I  say  unto  ymi  fear  him. 
Fear  not,  but  fear  ;  and  therefore  fear,  that 
you  may  not  fear.  This  fear  is  like  the  trem- 
bling that  hath  been  observed  in  some  of  great 
courage  before  battles.  Moses  was  bold  and 
fearless  ii.  dealing  with  a  proud  and  wicked 
king,  but  when  God  appeared,  he  said  (as  the 
apostle  informs  us),  /  exceedingly  fear  and 
quake.  Heb.  xii.  21. 

II.  The  reason  we  have  here  to  persuade 
to  this  fear  is  twofold.  (1.)  Their  relation 
to  God.    (2.)  Their  relation  to  the  world. 

(1.)  To  God  as  their  Father,  and  as  their 
Judge.  Because  you  do  call  him  Father,  and 
rofess  yourselves  his  children,  begotten  a^ain 
y  him  (for  this  verse  looks  back  to  that  ex- 
pression), it  becomes  you,  as  obedient  chil- 
drea,  to  stand  in  awe,  and  fear  to  offend  him 
your  Father,  and  a  Father  so  full  of  goodness 
and  tender  love.  But  as  he  is  the  best  Fa- 
ther, so  consider  that  he  is  withal  the  great- 
est and  justest  .ludge  :  He  judges  every  man 
according  to  his  work. 

God  always  sees  and  discerns  men,  and  all 
their  works,  and  judgeth,  that  is,  accounteth 
of  ther.i,  as  they  are,  and  sometimes  in  this 
life  declares  this  his  judgment  of  tliem  to 
their  own  ctjnsciences,  and  in  some  to  the 
view  of  others,  in  visible  punishments  and  re- 
wards ;  but  the  most  solemn  judgment  of  all 
is  reserved  to  that  great  day  wiiich  he  hath 


appointed,  ivherein  he  will  jud ge  thy  world  in 
righteousness  by  his  Son  Jesus.  Actsxvii.  32. 

There  is  here  the  sovereignly  of  this  Judge, 
the  universality  of  his  judgment,  and  I  he  equi- 
ty of  it.  All  must  answer  at  his  great  court ; 
he  is  supreme  judge  of  the  world.  He  made 
it,  and  hath  therefore  unquestionable  right  to 
judge  it.  He  judgeth  every  inan  ;  and  it  is  a 
most  righteous  judgment,  which  hath  these 
two  in  it :  1.  An  exact  and  perfect  knowl- 
edge of  all  men's  works  ;  2.  Impartial  judg- 
ment  of  them  so  known.  This  second  is  ex- 
pressed negatively,  by  removing  the  crooked 
rule  which  man's  judgment  often  follows  ;  it 
is  without  consideration  of  those  personal  dif- 
ferences which  men  eye  so  much.  And  the 
first  is  according  to  the  work  itself.  Job  xxxiv. 
19 :  He  accepteth  not  the  person  of  princes, 
nor  regardeth  the  rich  more  than  the  poor, 
and  the  reason  is  added  there.  For  they  are 
all  the  work  of  his  hands.  He  made  all  the 
persons,  and  he  makes  all  those  differences 
himself  as  it  pleaseth  him  ;  therefore  he  doth 
not  admire  them  as  we  do,  no,  nor  at  all  re- 
gard them.  We  find  very  great  odds  between 
stately  palaces  and  poor  cottages,  between  a 
prince's  robes  and  a  beggar's  cloak  ;  but  to 
God  they  are  all  one ;  all  these  petty  differ- 
ences  vanish  in  comparison  of  liis  own  great- 
ness. Men  are  great  and  small,  compared 
with  one  another  ;  but  they  altogether  amount 
to  just  nothing  in  respect  of  him.  We  find 
high  mountains  and  low  valleys  on  this  earth  ; 
but  compared  with  the  vast  coinpass  of  the 
heavens,  it  is  all  but  as  a  point,  and  hath  no 
sensible  greatness  at  all. 

Nor  regards  he  any  other  differences  to  bias 
his  judgment,  from  the  works  of  men,  to  their 
persons.  You  profess  the  true  religion, 
and  call  him  Father  :  but  if  you  live  devoid 
of  his  fear,  and  be  disobedient  children,  he 
will  not  spare  you  because  of  that  relation, 
but  rather  punish  you  the  more  severely.  Be- 
cause you  pretended  to  be  his  children,  and 
yet  obeyed  him  not,  therefore  you  shall  find 
him  your  judge,  and  an  impartial  judge  of 
your  works.  Remember,  therefore,  that  your 
Father  is  this  judge,  and  fear  to  offend  him. 
But  then,  in  leed,  a  bi  lievcr  m  iy  lo  k  back  t  ) 
the  other  comfort,  who  abuses  it  not  to  a  sin- 
ful  security.  He  resolves  thus  willingly  :  "I 
will  not  sin,  because  my  Father  is  this  jusr 
Judge;  but  for  my  frailties  I  will  hope  for 
mercy,  because  the  Judge  is  my  Father." 

Their  works.'\  This  comprehends  all  ac- 
tions and  words,  yea,  thoughts  ;  and  each 
work  entirely,  taken  outside  and  inside  to- 
gether ;  for  ne  sees  all  alike,  and  judgeth  ac 
cording  to  all  together.  He  looks  on  the 
wheels  and  paces  within,  as  well  as  on  the 
handle  without,  and  therefore  ought  we  to 
fear  the  least  crookedness  of  our  intentions  in 
the  best  works  ;  for  if  we  entertain  any  such, 
and  study  not  singleness  of  heart,  this  will 
cast  all,  though  we  pray  and  hear  the  word, 
and  preach  it,  and  live  outwardly  unhlamea- 
bly.    And  in  that  great  judgment,  all  secret 


110 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


lCha?.  l. 


things  shall  be  manifost :  as  they  are  always 
open  10  ihe  I've  of  ihis  Juclf>:e,  so  lie  shall  then 
o|)en  then  before  men  and  iuiijels :  therefore 
let  the  reiiienihrance  anil  frc-quent  considera- 
tion ol'  this  all-seeing  .1  ud<j;e,  and  of  that  great 
judgment,  waken  our  hearts,  and  heget  in  us 
this  fear.  2  Cor.  v.  10,  11.  If  you  would 
have  confidence  in  that  day,  and  noi  fear  it 
when  it  cunies,  fear  it  now,  so  as  to  avoid  sin  ; 
for  they  that  now  tremble  at  it,  shall  then, 
when  it  comes,  lift  up  their  faces  with  joy  ; 
and  tl.cy  that  will  not  fear  it  now,  shall  then 
be  overwhelmed  with  fears  and  terror ;  they 
shall  have  such  a  burden  of  fear  then  as  that 
hey  shall  account  the  hills  and  mountains 
ighter  than  it. 

Pass  the  lime  of  your  snjourniriff  here  iw 
fear.]  In  this  I  conceive  is  implied  another 
persuasive  of  this  fear  arising  (2),  from  their 
relation  to  this  world.  You  are  sojourners 
and  strangers  (as  here  the  word  signifies), 
and  a  wary,  circumspect  carriage  becomes 
Sirangers,  because  they  are  most  exposed  to 
wrongs  and  hard  accidents.  You  are  encom- 
passed with  enemies  and  snares;  how  can 
you  be  secure  in  the  midst  of  ihem?  This 
is  not  your  rest ;  watchful  fear  becomes  this 
your  sojourning.  Perfect  peace  and  security 
are  reserved  for  you  at  home,  and  that  is  the 
last  term  of  this  fear;  it  continues  all  the 
time  of  this  sojourning  life,  dies  not  before 
us  ;  we  and  it  shall  expire  together. 

III.  This,  then,  is  the  term  or  contmuance 
of  this  fear. 

Blessed  is  he  that  feareth  ahmys,  says  Sol- 
omon, Prov.  xxvii  H  ;  in  secret  and  in  so- 
ciety, in  his  own  house  and  in  God's.  We 
must  hear  the  word  wiih  fear,  and  preach  it 
with  fear,  afraid  to  miscarry  in  our  intentions 
and  manners.  Serve  the  Lord  xvilh  fear,  yea, 
in  times  of  inward  comfort  and  joy,  yet  re- 
joice with  trembling,  Psal.  ii.  11.  Not  only 
when  a  man  feels  most  his  own  weakness, 
but  when  he  finds  himself  strongest.  None 
are  so  high  advanced  in  grace  here  below,  as 
to  be  out  of  need  of  this  grace ;  but  when 
their  sojourning  shall  be  done,  and  they  are 
come  home  to  their  father's  house  above, 
then  no  more  fearing.  No  entrance  for  dan- 
gers there,  and  therefore  no  fear.  A  holy 
reverence  of  ihe  majesty  of  God  they  shall 
indeed  have  then  most  of  all,  as  the  angels 
still  have,  because  they  shall  see  him  most 
clearly,  and  because  the  more  he  is  known 
the  more  he  is  reverenced  ;  but  this  fear  that 
relates  to  danger  shall  then  vanish,  for  in 
that  world  there  is  neither  sin,  nor  sorrow 
for  sin,  nor  temptation  to  sin  ;  no  more  con- 
flicts, but  after  a  full  and  final  victory,  an 
eternal  peace,  an  everlasting  triumph.  Not 
only  fear,  but  faith,  and  hope,  do  imply  some 
imperfection  not  consistent  with  that  blessed 
estate  ;  and  therefore  all  of  them  having  ob- 
tained their  end,  shall  end  ;  faith  in  sight, 
hope  in  possession,  and  fear  in  perfect  safety  ; 
aiid  everlasting  love  and  delight  shall  fill 
the  whole  soul  in  the  vision  of  God. 


Vf.r.  is.  Forasmuch  as  yo  know  that  yc  wore  lit  re- 
(Irciiu'il  with  ((irniiuililo  things  as  silver  ;ind  g  .Id 
from  your  vain  l  oiiversalion  received  by  tradilion 
IVoin  your  I'atliers  ; 

Vf.r.  19.  Hut  with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ,  as 
of  a  lamb  without  blemish  and  without  sp'-*.. 

It  is  impossible  for  a  Christian  to  give 
himself  to  conform  to  the  world's  ungodli- 
ness, unless  first  he  forgets  who  he  is,  and  by 
what  means  he  attained  lo  be  what  he  is. 
Therefore  the  apostle,  persuading  his  breth- 
ren to  holiness,  jjuts  them  in  mind  of  this, 
as  the  strongest  incentive.  Not  only  have 
you  the  example  of  God  set  before  you,  as 
your  father,  to  beget  in  you  the  love  of  holi- 
ness, as  being  your  liveliest  resemblance  of 
him  ;  and  the  justice  of  God  as  your  judge, 
to  argue  you  into  a  pious  fear  of  offending 
him  ;  but  consider  this,  that  he  is  your  Re- 
deemer ;  he  hath  bought  out  your  liberty 
from  sin  and  the  world,  to  be  altogeiher  his ; 
and  think  on  the  price  laid  down  in  this  ran- 
som ;  and  these  out  of  question  will  prevail 
with  you. 

We  have  here,  1.  The  evil  dissuaded  from, 
viz.,  A  vain  conversation.  2.  The  dissuasion 
itself. 

1.  It  is  called  their  vain  conversation.  2. 
Received  by  tradition  from  their  fathers.  By 
this  I  conceive  is  to  be  understood  not  only 
the  superstitions  and  vain  devices  in  religion, 
which  abounded  among  the  Jews  by  tradi- 
tion, for  which  our  Savior  often  reproved 
them  while  he  was  conversant  among  them, 
as  we  find  in  the  gospel  (and  all  this  was 
meant,  ver.  14,  by  the  lusts  of  their  former 
Ignorance)  ;  but  generally,  all  the  corrupt 
and  sinful  customs  of  iheir  lives  ;  for  it  seems 
not  so  pertinent  to  his  purpose  when  exhort- 
ing to  holiness  of  life,  to  speak  of  their  su- 
perstitious traditions,  as  of  their  other  sinful 
habitudes,  which  are  no  less  hereditary,  and, 
by  the  power  of  examgle,  traditional  ;  which 
by  reason  of  their  common  root  in  man's  sin- 
ful nature,  do  so  easily  pass  from  parents  to 
children,  nature  making  their  example  pow- 
erful, and  the  corruption  of  nature  giving  it 
most  power  in  that  which  is  evil.  And  this 
is  the  rather  mentioned  to  take  away  the 
force  of  it,  and  cut  off  that  influence  which 
it  might  have  had  in  their  minds.  There  is 
a  kind  of  conversation  ihat  the  authority  of 
your  father  pleads  for  ;  but  remember,  that 
it  is  that  very  thing  from  which  you  are  de- 
livered, and  you  are  called  to  a  new  state 
and  form  of  life,  and  have  a  new  pattern  set 
before  you,  instead  of  that  corrupt  example. 

It  is  one  great  error,  not  only  in  religion 
and  manners,  but  even  in  human  science, 
that  men  are  ready  to  take  things  upon  trust, 
unexamined,  from  those  that  went  before 
them,  partly  out  of  easiness  and  sparing  the 
pains  of  trial,  partly  out  of  a  sui)erstitious 
over-esteem  of  their  authority  :  but  the  chief 
reason  why  corruptions  in  religion,  and  in  the 
practice  of  preceding  ages,  take  so  .iiuch  wilh 
posterity,  is  that  before  mentioned,  the  uni- 


Ver.  18,  19.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


Ill 


versal  sympathy  and  agreement  which  those 
evils  have  with  the  corrupt  nature  of  man. 

The  prophet  Ezekiel  observes  this  par- 
ticularly in  the  Jews,  chap.  xx.  24,  Thai 
their  eyes  were  after  their  fathers^  idols,  con- 
trary to  God's  express  forewarning,  ver.  18. 
This  •«  as  the  great  quarrel  of  the  heathens 
against  the  Christian  religion  in  the  primi- 
tive times,  that  it  was  new  and  unknown  to 
their  fathers  ;  and  the  ancient  writers  of  those 
times  are  frequent  in  showing  the  vanity  of 
this  exception,  particularly  Lactantius,  In- 
stit.  lib.  2,  cap.  7,  8.  The  same  prejudice 
doth  the  church  of  Rome  sing  over  continu- 
ally against  the  reformed  religion  :  Where 
was  it  before  Luiher  ?  iS(c.  But  this  is  a 
foolish  and  unreasonable  diversion  from  the 
search  of  truth,  because  error  is  more  at 
hand  ;  or  from  the  entertaining  it,  being 
found,  because  falsehood  is  in  possession. 

As  in  religion,  so  in  the  course  and  prac- 
tice of  men's  lives,  the  stream  of  sin  runs 
from  one  age  into  another,  and  every  age 
makes  it  greater,  adding  somewhat  to  what 
it  receives,  as  rivers  grow  in  iiieir  course  by 
the  accession  of  brooks  that  fall  into  them  ; 
and  every  man  when  he  is  born  falls  like  a 
drop  into  this  main  current  of  corruj)ii(in, 
and  so  is  carried  down  with  it,  and  this  by 
reason  of  its  strength,  and  his  own  nature, 
which  willingly  dissolves  into  it,  and  runs 
along  with  it.  In  this  is  manifest  the  power 
,  of  divine  grace  in  a  man's  conversion,  that 
it  severs  him  so  powerfully  from  the  profane 
world,  and  gives  him  strength  to  run  contra- 
ry to  the  sreat  current  of  wickedness  that  is 
round  ahoui  him,  in  his  parents  possibly,  and 
in  his  kindred  and  friends,  and  in  the  most 
of  men  that  he  meets  withal.  The  voice  of 
God,  that  powerful  word  of  effectual  calling 
which  he  speaks  into  the  heart,  makes  a 
man  break  through  all,  and  leave  all  to  fol- 
low God,  as  Abraham  did,  being  called  out 
from  his  kindred  and  father's  house,  to  jour- 
ney toward  the  land  that  God  had  promised 
him.  And  this  is  that  which  was  spoken  to 
the  church  and  to  each  believing  soul  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  For'^et  also  thine  own  people 
and  thy  father's  house,  so  shall  the  king  'great- 
ly delight  in  thy  beauty.  Psal.  xlv.  10,  11. 
Regard  not  what  others  think,  though  they 
be  thy  nearest  friends,  but  study  only  to 
please  him,  and  tlu'ii  thou  shah  please  him 
indeed.  Do  not  deform  thy  face  with  look- 
ing out  asquint  to  the  custom  of  the  world, 
but  look  straightforward  on  him,  and  so  thou 
shah  be  beautiful  in  his  eyes.  When  God 
calls  a  man  in  a  remarkable  manner,  his  pro- 
fane friends  are  all  in  a  tumult  ;  what  needs 
this  to  be  more  precise  than  we  and  all  your 
neighbors  ?  But  all  this  is  a  confused  noise, 
that  works  nothing  on  the  heart  that  the 
Lord  hath  touched  :  it  must  follow  him, 
th(-u_'h  by  trampling  up(jn  friends  and  kin- 
dred, if  they  lie  in  the  way.  We  see  how 
powerfully  a  word  from  Christ  drew  his  dis- 
ciples to  leave  all  and  follow  him. 


The  exhortation  is  against  all  sinful  ind 
unholy  conversation,  by  what  authoruy  and 
example  soever  recommended  to  us.  The 
apostle's  reasons  in  these  words  are  strong 
and  pressing ;  there  is  one  expressed  in  the 
very  name  he  gives  it ;  it  is  vain  conversation 

The  mind  of  man,  the  guide  and  source  of 
his  actions,  while  it  is  estranged  from  God 
is  nothing  but  a  forge  of  vanities.  The  Apos- 
tle St.  Paul  speaks  this  of  the  Gentiles,  that 
they  became  vain  in  their  imaginations,  and 
their  foolish  heart  uas  darkened,  Rom.  i,21. 
their  great  naturalists  and  philosophers' not 
excepted  ;  and  the  more  they  strove  to  play 
the  wise  men,  the  more  they  befooled  them- 
selves. Thus  likewise,  Eph.  iv.  17.  And 
thus  the  Lord  complains  by  his  prophet 
Isaiah,  of  the  extreme  folly  of  his  people, 
ch.  xliv.  20,  and  by  Jeremy,  that  their  hearts 
are  lodges  of  vain  thoughts,  ch.  iv.  14 :  and 
these  are  the  true  cause  of  a  vain,  conversa- 
tion. 

The  whole  course  of  a  man's  life  out  of 
Christ,  is  nothing  but  a  continual  trading  in 
vanity,  running  a  circle  of  toil  and  labor,  and 
reaping  no  profit  at  all.  This  is  the  vanity 
of  every  natural  man's  conversation,  that  not 
only  others  are  not  benefited  by  it,  but  it  is> 
fruitless  to  himself;  there  arises  to  him  no 
solid  good  out  of  it.  That  is  most  truly  vain 
which  attains  not  its  proper  end  ;  now,  since 
ail  a  man's  endeavors  aim  at  his  satisfactioc 
and  contentment,  that  conversation  wliich 
gives  him  iiotiiing  of  that,  but  removes  him 
further  from  it,  is  justly  called  vain  conversa- 
tion. What  fruit  had  ye,  says  the  apostle, 
in  those  things  whereof  ye  are  now  ashamed  ? 
Rcjni.  vi.  21.  Either  count  that  shame  which 
at  the  best  grows  out  of  them,  their  fruit,  or 
confess  they  have  none  :  therefore  they  are 
called  the  unfruitful  ivorks  of  darkness,  Eph. 
v.  11. 

Let  the  voluptuous  person  say  it  out  upon 
his  dcaih-bed,  what  pleasure  or  profit  doth 
then  abide  with  him  of  all  his  former  sinful 
delights.  Let  him  tell  if  there  remain  anv- 
thing  of  them  all,  but  that  which  he  would 
gladly  not  have  to  remain,  the  sting  of  an 
accusing  conscience,  which  is  as  lasting  as 
the  delight  of  sin  was  short  and  vanishing. 
Let  the  covetous  and  aml)itious  declare  freely, 
even  those  of  them  who  have  pr(jspered  most 
in  their  pursuit  of  riches  and  honor,  what 
ease  all  their  possessions  or  titles  do  then 
help  them  to ;  whether  their  j)ains  are  the 
less  because  their  chests  are  full,  or  their 
houses  stalely,  or  a  multitude  of  friends  and 
servants  waiting  on  them  with  hat  and  knee. 
And  if  all  these  things  can  not  ease  their 
body,  how  much  less  can  they  quiet  thp 
mind  I  And  therefore  is  it  not  true,  that  ali 
pains  in  these  tl  ings,  and  the  uneven  ways 
into  which  they  sometimes  stei)pe(l  aside  to 
Serve  those  ends,  and  generally,  that  all  the 
ways  of  sin  wherein  they  have  wearied  them- 
selves, were  vain  rollings  and  tfjssings  up 
and  down,  not  tending  to  a  'certain  haven  of 


112 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  i 


peace  and  happiness?  It  is  a  lamentable 
thing  to  l)e  doluded  a  whole  life-time  with  a 
false  dream.    See  Isaiah  ii.  8. 

You  that  are  going  on  in  the  common  road 
of  sin,  although  many,  and  possibly  your  own 
parents,  have  trodden  it  before  you,  and  the 
greatest  part  of  those  you  now  know  are  in  it 
with  you,  and  keep  you  company  in  it,  yet, 
be  persuaded  to  slop  a  little,  and  ask  your- 
selves what  is  it  you  seek,  or  expect  in  the 
end  of  it.  Would  it  not  grieve  any  laboring 
ni£^,  to  work  liard  all  the  day,  and  have  no 
wages  to  look  for  at  night?  It  is  a  greater 
loss  to  wear  out  our  whole  life,  and  in  the 
evening  of  our  days  find  nothmg  but  anguish 
and  vexation.  Let  us  then  think  this,  that  so 
much  of  our  life  as  is  spent  in  the  ways  of  sin 
iS  all  lost,  fruitless,  and  vain  conversaliun. 

And  in  so  far  as  the  apostle  says  here.  You 
are  redermed  from  this  conrersation,  this  im- 
ports it  to  be  a  servile,  slavish  condition,  as 
the  other  word,  vain,  expresses  it  to  be  fruit- 
less. And  this  is  the  madness  of  a  sinner, 
that  he  fancies  liberty  in  that  which  is  the 
basest  thraldom  ;  as  those  poor  frantic  per- 
sons that  are  lying  ragged  and  bound  in 
chains,  yet  imagine  that  they  are  kings,  that 
their  irons  are  chains  of  gold,  their  rags 
robes,  and  their  filthy  lodge  a  palace.  As  it 
is  misery  to  be  liable  to  the  sentence  of  death, 
so  it  is  slavery  to  be  subject  to  the  dominion 
of  sin  ;  and  he  that  is  delivered  from  the  one, 
is  likewise  set  free  from  the  other.  There  is 
one  redemption  from  boih.  He  that  is  re- 
deemed from  destruction  by  the  blood  of 
Christ,  is  likewise  redeemed  from  that  vain 
and  luiholy  conversation  that  leads  to  it.  So, 
Tit.  ii.  14.  Our  Redeemer  was  anointed  for 
this  purpose,  not  to  free  the  captives  from  the 
sentence  of  death,  and  yet  leave  them  still  in 
prison,  but  to  proclaim  liberty  to  them,  and 
the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them  that  are 
bound.    Isa.  Ixi.  1. 

You  easily  persuade  yourselves  that  Christ 
both  died  for  you,  and  redeemed  you  from  hell ; 
but  you  consider  not,  that  if  it  be  so,  he  hath 
likewise  redeemed  you  from  your  vain  con- 
versation, and  hath  set  you  free  from  the  ser- 
vice of  sin.  Certainly,  while  you  find  not 
that,  you  can  have  no  assurance  of  the  other : 
if  the  chains  of  sin  continue  still  upon  you, 
for  anything  you  can  know,  these  chains  do 
bind  you  over  to  the  other  chains  of  darkness 
the  apostle  speaks  of,  2  Pet.  ii.  4.  Let  us 
not  delude  ourselves  ;  if  we  find  the  love  of 
sin  and  of  the  world  work  stronger  in  our 
hearts  than  the  love  of  Christ,  we  are  not  as 
yet  partakers  of  his  redemption. 

But  if  we  have  indeed  laid  hold  upon  him 
as  our  Redeemer,  then  are  we  redeemed  from 
the  service  of  sin  ;  not  only  from  the  grossest 
profaneuess,  but  even  from  all  kind  of  fruit- 
less and  vatn  conversation.  And  therefore 
ought  we  to  stand  fast  in  that  liberty,  and  not 
to  entangle  ourselves  again  to  any  of  our  for- 
mer vanities.    Gal  v.  1. 

Not   redeemed    wtth   corruptible    things. ^ 


From  the  high  price  of  our  redenijjtion,  tl)<- 
apostle  doth  mainly  enforce  our  esteem  of  it, 
and  urge  the  preservation  Oi  that  liberty  so 
dearly  bought,  and  the  avoiding  ail  that  un- 
holiness  and  vain  conversation  from  which 
we  are  freed  by  that  redemption.  First,  he 
expresseth  it  negatively,  not  uilh  corruptible 
thing.^  ;  (Oh  !  foolish  we,  who  hunt  them,  as 
if  they  were  inciaruptible  and  everlasting 
treasures!)  no,  not  the  best  t>f  them,  those 
that  are  m  highest  account  with  men,  not 
v)lh  silver  and  gold  ;  these  are  not  of  any 
value  at  all  toward  the  ransom  of  souls , 
they  can  not  buy  ofl'  the  death  of  the  body, 
nor  purchase  the  continuance  of  temporal  lue, 
much  less  can  they  reach  to  the  worth  of 
spiritual  and  eternal  life.  The  precious  soul 
could  not  be  redeemed  but  by  blood,  and  by 
no  blood  but  that  of  this  s])otless  lamb,  Jesus 
Christ,  who  is  God  equal  with  the  Father- 
and  therefore  his  blood  is  called  The  blood  of 
God,  Acts  XX.  So  that  the  Apostle  may  well 
call  it  here  precious,  exceeding  the  whole 
world,  and  all  things  in  it,  in  value.  There- 
fore frustrate  not  the  sufferings  of  Christ :  if 
he  shed  his  blood  to  redeem  you  from  sin,  be 
not  false  to  his  purpose. 

As  a  lamb  without  blemish.]  He  is  that 
great  and  everlasting  sacrifice  which  gave 
value  and  virtue  to  all  the  sacrifices  under 
the  law:  their  blood  was  of  no  worth  to  the 
purging  away  of  sin,  but  by  relation  to  his 
blood  ;  and  the  laws  concerning  the  choice  • 
of  the  paschal  lamb,  or  other  lambs  for  sacri- 
fice, were  but  obscure  and  imperfect  shadows 
of  his  purity  and  perfections,  who  is  the  uu- 
defiled  Lamb  of  God  that  tuketh  away  the  sins 
of  the  world.  John  i.  29.  A  lamb  in  meek- 
ness and  silence,  he  opened  not  his  mouth. 
Isa.  liii.  7.  And  in  purity  herg  without  spot 
or  blemish.  My  well-beloved,  says  the  spouse, 
IS  white  and  ruddy,  Cant.  v.  10  ;  white  in 
spotless  innocency,  and  red  in  suffering  a 
bloody  death. 

Forasmuch  as  ye  know.]  It  is  that  mU'^t 
make  all  this  effectual,  the  right  knowledge 
and  due  consideration  of  it.  Ye  do  know  it 
already,  but  I  would  have  you  know  it  better, 
more  deeply  and  practically  :  turn  it  often 
over,  be  more  in  the  study  and  meditation  of 
it.  There  is  work  enough  in  it  still  for  the 
most  discerning  mind  ;  it  isa  mystery  so  deep 
that  you  shall  never  reach  the  bottom  of  it, 
and  withal  so  useful  that  you  shall  find  al- 
ways new  profit  by  it.  Our  folly  is,  we  gape 
after  new  things,  and  yet  are  in  effect  igno- 
rant of  the  things  we  think  we  know  best. 
That  learned  apostle  who  knew  so  much, 
and  spoke  so  many  tongues,  yet  says,  1  deter- 
mined to  know  nothing  among  you,  save  Jesus 
Christ,  and  him  crucified.  1  Cor.  ii.  2.  And 
again  he  expresses  this  as  the  top  of  his  am- 
bition. That  I  may  know  him,  and  the  powe* 
of  his  resurrection,  and  the  fellowship  of  hit 
sufferings,  being  made  cnnfonnahle  unto  his 
death.  Phil.  iii.  10.  That  conformity  is  this 
only  knowledge.    He  that  hath  his  lusts  un- 


Ver.  20.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


113 


mortified,  and  a  heart  unweaned  from  the 
world,  though  he  know  all  the  history  of  the 
death  and  sufferings  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  can 
discourse  well  of  them,  yet  indeed  he  knows 
them  not. 

If  you  would  increase  much  in  holiness, 
and  be  strong  against  the  temptations  to  sin, 
this  is  the  only  art  of  it ;  view  much,  and  so 
seek  to  know  much  of  the  death  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Consider  often  at  how  high  a  rate 
we  were  redeemed  I'rom  sin,  and  provide  this 
answer  for  all  the  enticements  of  sin  and  the 
world  :  "  Except  you  can  offer  ray  soul  some- 
thing beyond  that  price  that  was  given  for  it 
on  the  cross,  I  can  not  hearken  to  you." 
"  Far  be  it  from  me,"  will  a  Christian  say, 
who  considers  this  redemption,  "  that  ever  I 
should  prefer  a  base  lust,  or  anything  in  this 
world,  or  it  all,  to  Him  who  gave  himself  to 
death  for  me,  and  paid  my  ransom  with  his 
blood.  His  matchless  love  hath  freed  me 
from  the  miserable  captivity  of  sin,  and  haih 
lor  ever  fastened  me  to  the  sweet  yoke  of  his 
obedience.  Let  him  alone  to  dwell  and  rule 
within  me,  and  never  let  him  go  forth  from 
my  heart,  who  for  my  sake  refused  to  come 
down  from  the  cross." 

Veb.  20.  Who  verily  was  foreordained  before  the 
foundiUion  of  the  world ;  but  was  manifest  in  these 
last  times  for  you. 

Of  all  those  considerations  (and  there  are 
many)  that  may  move  men  to  obedience,  there 
is  no  one  that  persuades  both  more  sweetly 
and  strongly,  than  the  sense  of  God's  goodness 
and  mercy  toward  men  ;  and  among  all  the 
evidences  of  that,  there  is  none  like  the  send- 
ing and  giving  of  his  Son  for  man's  redemp- 
tion ;  therefore  the  apostle,  having  mentioned 
that,  insists  further  on  it ;  and  in  these  words 
expresses,  1.  The  purpose;  2.  The  perform- 
ance; and  3.  The  application  of  it. 

I.  The  purpose  or  decree  foreknown  ;  but 
it  is  well  rendered,  foreordained,  for  this 
knowing  is  decreeing,  and  there  is  little  either 
solid  truth  or  profit  in  the  distinguishing 
them. 

We  say  usually,  that  where  there  is  little 
wisdom  there  is  much  chance  ;  and  compara- 
tively among  men,  some  are  far  more  fore- 
sighted,  and  of  further  reach  than  others: 
yet  the  wisest  and  most  provident  men,  both 
wanting  skill  to  design  all  thitigs  aright,  and 
power  to  act  as  they  contrive,  meet  with 
many  unexpected  casualties  and  frequent  dis- 
appointments in  their  undertakings.  But 
with  God,  where  both  wisdom  and  power 
are  infinite,  there  can  be  neither  any  chance 
nor  resistance  from  without,  nor  any  imper- 
fection at  all  in  the  contrivance  of  things 
withni  himself,  that  can  give  cause  to  add, 
or  abate,  or  alter  anything  in  the  frame  of 
his  purposes.  The  model  of  the  whole  world, 
and  of  all  the  course  of  time,  was  with  him 
one  and  the  same  from  all  eternity,  and 
whatsoever  is  brought  to  pass,  is  exactly  an- 
swerable to  that  pattern,  for  with  him  there 
t  no  change  nor  shadow  of  turning.  Jam.  i.  17. 
15 


There  is  nothing  dark  to  the  Father  of  lights  : 
he  sees  at  one  view  through  all  things,  and 
all  ages,  from  the  beginning  of  time  to  the 
end  of  it,  yea,  from  eternity  to  eternity.  And 
this  incomprehensible  wisdom  is  too  wonder- 
ful for  us ;  we  do  but  childishly  stamm(!r 
when  we  offer  to  speak  of  it.  , 

It  is  no  wonder  that  men  beat  their  own 
brains,  and  knock  their  heads  one  against  an- 
other, in  the  contest  of  their  opinions,  to  litile 
purpose,  in  their  several  mouldings  of  God's 
decree.  Is  not  this  to  cut  and  square  God's 
thoughts  to  ours,  and  examine  his  sovereign 
purposes  by  the  low  principles  of  human  wis- 
dom ?  How  much  more  learned  than  all  such 
knowledge,  is  the  apostle's  ignorance,  when 
he  cries  out,  0  .'  the  depth  of  the  riches,  both 
of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God  .'  how  un- 
searchable are  his  judgments,  and  his  ivays 
past  finding  out  I  Rom.  xi.  33.  Why  then 
should  any  man  debate  what  place,  in  the  se- 
j  ries  of  God's  decrees,  is  to  be  assigned  to  this 
j  purpose  of  sending  his  Son  in  the  flesh  !  Let 
us  rather  (seeing  it  is  manifest  that  it  was  for 
the  redemption  of  lost  mankind)  admire  that 
same  love  of  God  to  mankind,  which  appears 
in  that  purpose  of  our  recovery  by  the  Word 
made  flesh  ;  that  before  man  had  made  him- 
self miserable,  yea,  before  either  he  or  the 
world  was  made,  this  thought  of  boundless 
love  was  in  the  bosom  of  God  ;  to  send  his 
Son  forth  thence,  to  bring  fallen  man  out  of 
misery,  and  restore  him  to  happiness  ;  and  to 
do  this,  not  only  by  taking  on  his  nature,  but 
the  curse:  to  sbift  it  off  from  us  that  were 
sunk  under  it,  and  to  bear  it  himself  and  by 
bearing  to  take  it  away.  He  laid  on  him  the 
inujuily  of  us  all.  And  to  this  he  was  ap- 
pointed, says  the  apostle,  Heb.  iii.  2. 

Before  the  foundation  of  the  world.']  This 
we  understand  by  faith,  that  the  world  was 
framed  hy  the  word  of  God.  Heb.  xi.  3.  Al- 
though the  learned  probably  think  it  evinci- 
ble by  human  reason,  yet  some  of  those  who. 
have  gloried  most  in  that,  and  are  reputed 
generally  masters  of  reason,  have  not  seen  it 
by  that  light.  Therefore,  that  we  may  have 
a  divine  belief  of  it,  we  must  learn  it  from 
the  word  of  God,  and  be  persuaded  of  its 
truth  by  the  Sj)irii  of  God,  that  the  whole 
world,  and  all  things  in  it,  were  drawn  out 
of  nothing  by  his  almighty  power,  who  is  the 
only  eternal  and  increated  Beinir,  and  there- 
fore the  fountain  and  source  of  being  to  all 
things. 

Fonndation.l  In  this  word  is  plainly  inti- 
maied  the  resemblance  of  the  world  to  a. 
building ;  and  such  a  building  it  is,  as  doth 
evidence  the  greatness  of  Him  who  framed  it  ; 
so  spacious,  rich,  and  comely,  so  firm  a  foun- 
dation, raised  to  so  high  and  stately  a  roof, 
and  set  with  variety  of  stars,  as  witii  jewels, 
therefore  called,  as  some  conceive  it,  the  work 
of  his  ftnwers,  Psal.  viii.,  to  express  the  cu- 
rious artifice  that  appears  in  them.  Though 
naturalists  have  attempted  to  give  the  reason 
of  the  earth's  stability  from  its  heaviness. 


114 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


^Chap.  I. 


whicli  Slays  it  npressarily  in  the  lowest  part 
of  the  world,  yet  tliat  abates  not  our  adinirini; 
tiie  Avisdoin  and  jxiwer  of  God,  in  hiyini;  its 
foundation  so,  and  estahlishiniT  it  ;  for  it  is  his 
will  that  is  tlie  first  cause  of  that,  iis  naiure, 
and  haiii  apponited  tliat  to  he  the  jiroperty 
of  its  heaviness,  to  lix  it  there  :  and  therefore 
Joh  alles^es  this  anionij  the  wonderful  works 
of  God,  and  evidences  of  his  power,  that  He 
hangetli  the  earth  upon  nuthiiifr.  Job  xxvi.7. 

Before  there  was  time,  or  place,  or  any 
creature,  (lod,  the  blessed  Trinity,  was  ju 
himself,  and  as  the  projjhet  speaks,  tithahidnsr 
tternity,  coini)letely  hai)py  in  himself:  but 
mtendinjj  to  manifest  and  communicate  his 
goodness,  he  i^ave  being  to  the  world,  and  to 
time  with  it ;  made  all  to  set  forth  his  good- 
ness, and  the  most  excellent  of  his  creatures 
to  contemjilate  and  enjoy  it.  But  among  all 
the  works  he  intended  before  lime,  and  in 
time  eflected,  this  is  the  masteri)iece,  which 
is  here  said  to  he  foreordained,  the  manifest- 
ing of  God  in  the  flesh  for  man's  redemption, 
and  that  by  his  Sou  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  first- 
born among  many  brethren,  in  order  that 
those  appointed,  for  salvation  should  be  res- 
cued from  the  common  misery,  and  be  made 
one  mystical  hody,  whereof  Christ  is  the 
head,  and  so  entitled  to  that  everlasting  glory 
and  happiness  that  he  hath  purchased  for 
them. 

This,  I  say,  is  the  great  work,  wherein  all 
those  glorious  attributes  shine  jointly,  the 
wisdom,  and  power,  and  goodness,  justice, 
and  mercy  of  God.  As  in  great  maps,  or  pic- 
tures, you  will  see  the  border  decorated  with 
meadows  and  fountains,  and  flowers,  &c., 
represented  in  it,  but  in  the  middle  you  have 
the  main  design  ;  thus  is  this  foreordained  re- 
demption among  the  works  of  God  ;  all  his 
other  works  in  the  world,  all  the  beauty  of 
the  creatures,  and  the  succession  of  ages,  and 
things  that  come  to  pass  in  them,  are  but  as 
the  border  to  thts  as  the  main  piece.  But  as  a 
foolish,  unskilful  beholder,  noi  discerning  the 
excellency  of  the  principal  piece  in  such 
maps  or  pictures,  gazes  only  on  the  fair  bor- 
der, and  goes  no  further,  thus  do  the  greatest 
part  of  MS  :  our  eyes  are  taken  with  the  goodly 
show  of  the  world  and  appearance  of  earthly 
things  ;  but  as  for  this  great  work  of  God, 
Christ  foreordnined,  and  in  time  sent  for  our 
redemption,  though  it  most  deserves  our  at- 
tentive regard,  yet  Ave  do  not  view  and  con- 
sider it  as  we  ought. 

2.  We  have  the  performance  of  that  ptir- 
pose,  Was  manifested  in  these  lust  times  for 
you.  He  was  manifested  both  by  his  incar- 
nation, according  to  that  word  of  the  Apostle 
St.  Paul  manifested  in  the  flesh,  1  Tim.  iii. 
16,  and  manifested  by  his  marvellous  works 
and  doctrine  ;  by  his  sufferings  and  death, 
resurrection  and  ascension,  by  the  sending 
down  of  the  Holy  Ghost  according  to  his 
promise,  and  by  the  preaching  of  the  gospel, 
in  the  fulness  of  time  that  God  had  appoint- 
ed, wherein  all  the  prophecies  that  foretold 


his  coining,  and  all  the  types  anJ  cercmo 
nies  that  prefigured  him,  had  their  accom- 
plishment. 

The  limes  of  the  gospel  are  often  callea 
the  last  times  by  the  proi)hets  :  for  that  the 
Jewish  priesthood  and  cereif  oni.  .'s  being  abol- 
ished, that  which  succeeded  was  appointed 
by  God  to  remain  the  same  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  Besides  this,  the  time  of  our  Savior's 
incarnation  may  be  called  the  last  times,  be- 
cause, although  it  were  not  near  the  end  of 
time  by  many  ages,  yet  in  all  ])robability  it 
is  much  nearer  the  end  of  time  than  the  be- 
ginninir  of  it.  Some  resemble  the  time  of  his 
sufferings  in  the  end  of  the  world,  to  the 
Paschal  Lamb  which  was  slain  in  the  even- 
ing. 

It  was  doubtless  the  fit  time  ;  but  notwith- 
standing 'he  schoolmen  offer  at  reasons  to 
prove  the  ntness  of  it,  as  their  humor  is  to 
prove  all  things,  none  dare,  I  think,  conclude, 
but  if  God  had  so  appointed,  it  might  have 
been  either  sooner  or  later.  And  our  safest 
way  is  to  rest  in  this,  that  it  was  the  fit  time, 
because  so  it  pleased  him,  and  to  seek  no 
other  reason  why,  having  promised  the  Mes- 
siah so  quickly  after  man's  fall,  hedeterred  his 
comin,g  about  four  thousand  years,  and  a 
great  part  of  that  time  shut  up  the  knowl- 
edge of  himself  and  the  true  religion,  within 
the  narrow  compass  of  that  one  nation  of 
which  Christ  was  to  be  born  ;  of  these  and 
such  like  things,  we  can  give  no  other  rea- 
son than  that  which  he  teacheth  us  in  a  like 
case,  Even  so.  Father,  because  it  seemeth  good 
unto  thee.  Matt.  xi.  26. 

3.  The  application  of  this  manifestation, 
For  ?/o;/.]  The  apostle  represents  these  things 
to  those  he  writes  to,  particularly  for  their 
use  ;  therefore  he  applies  it  to  them,  but 
without  prejudice  of  the  believers  who  wei.U 
before,  or  of  those  who  were  to  follow  in 
after-ages.  He  who  is  here  said  to  be 
fore-appointed  before  the  foundation  of  the 
world,  is  therefore  called  A  Lamb  slain  from 
the  foundation  of  the  world.  Rev.  xiii.  8.  And 
as  the  virtue  of  his  death  looks  backward  to 
all  preceding  ages,  whose  faith  and  sacrifices 
looked  forward  to  it ;  so  the  same  death  is  of 
force  and  perpetual  value  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  After  he  had  offered  one  sacrifice  for 
sins,  says  the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  chap.  x.  12,  14, /(e  sat  down  for 
ever  on  the  right  hand  of  God  ;  for  by  one 
offerins:  he  hath  -perfected  for  ever  them  that 
are  sanctified.  The  cross  on  which  he  was 
extended,  points,  in  the  length  of  it,  to  heav- 
en and  earth,  reconciling  them  together,  and 
in  the  breadth  of  it,  to  former  and  following 
ages,  as  being  equally  salvation  to  both. 

In  this  appropriating  and  peculiar  interest 
in  Jesus  Christ  lies  our  happiness,  without 
which  it  avails  not  that  he  was  ordained  from 
eternity,  and  in  time  manifested.  It  is  not 
the  general  contemplation,  but  the  peculiar 
possession  of  Christ,  that  gives  both  solid 
comfort  and  strong  persuasion  to  obedieiic*" 


Ver.  21,  22-1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


lis 


and  holiness,  which  is  here  the  apostle's  par- 
ticular scope. 

Veb.  21.  Who  by  him  do  believe  in  God  that  raised 
him  up  from  the  dead  and  gave  him  glory,  that 
your  faith  and  hope  might  be  in  God. 

Now,  because  it  is  faith  that  gives  the  soul 
this  particular  title  to  Jesus  Christ,  the  apos- 
tle adds  this,  to  declare  whom  he  meant  by 
yo'i.  For  you,  says  he,  who  hy  him  do  be- 
lieve in  God,  &c. 

Where  we  have,  1.  The  complete  object 
of  faith.  2.  The  ground  or  warrant  of  it. 
The  object,  God  in  Christ.  The  ground  or 
warrant.  In  that  he  raised  him  up  from  the 
dead,  and  gave  him  glory. 

A  man  may  have,  while  living  out  of  Christ, 
yea,  he  must,  he  can  not  choose  but  have  a 
conviction  within  him  that  there  is  a  God  ; 
and  further  he  may  have,  even  out  of  Christ, 
some  kind  of  belief  of  those  things  that  are 
spoken  concerning  God  ;  but  to  repose  on  God 
as  his  God  and  his  salvation,  which  is  indeed 
to  believe  in  him,  this  can  not  be  but  wliere 
Christ  is  the  medium  through  which  we  look 
ipon  God  ;  for  so  long  as  we  look  upon  God 
through  our  own  guiltiness,  we  can  see  noth- 
ing but  his  wratli,  and  apprehend  him  as  an 
armed  enemy  ;  and  therefore  are  so  far  from 
resting  on  him  as  our  happiness,  that  the 
more  we  view  it,  it  puts  us  upon  the  more 
speed  to  fly  from  him,  and  to  cry  out.  Who 
can  dwell  with  everlasting  hummus,  and  abide 
with  a  consuming  fire  ?  But  our  Savior,  ta- 
king sin  out  of  the  way,  puts  hi  inself  between 
our  sins  and  God,  and  so  makes  a  wonderful 
change  of  our  apprehension  of  him.  When 
you  look  through  a  red  glass,  tlie  whole  heav- 
ens seem  bloody  ;  but  througti  pure  uncolored 
glass,  you  receive  the  clear  light  that  is  so 
refreshmg  and  comfortable  to  behold.  When 
sin  unpardoned  is  between,  and  we  look  on 
God  through  that,  we  can  perceive  nothing 
hut  anger  and  enmity  in  his  countenance  ;  but 
make  Ciirist  once  the  medium,  our  pure  Re- 
deemer, and  through  him,  as  clear,  transpa- 
rent glass,  the  beams  of  God's  favorable  coun- 
tenance shine  in  upon  the  soul.  The  Father 
can  not  look  upon  his  well-beloved  Son,  but 
graciously  and  pleasingly.  God  looks  on  us 
out  of  Christ,  sees  us  rebels,  and  fit  to  be  con- 
dernned:  we  look  on  God  as  being  just  and 
powerful  to  punish  us  :  but  when  Christ  is 
between,  God  looks  on  us  in  him  as  justified, 
and  we  look  on  God  in  him  as  pacified,  and 
see  the  smiles  of  his  favorable  countenance. 
Take  Christ  out,  all  is  terrible  :  interpose 
him,  all  is  full  of  peace  ;  therefore  set  him 
always  between,  and  by  him  we  shall  believe 
in  God. 

The  warrant  and  ground  of  believing  in 
God  by  Christ  is  this,  that  God  raised  him 
from  the  dead,  and  gave  him  glory,  which 
evidences  the  full  satisfaction  of  his  death  ; 
and  in  all  that  work,  boih  in  his  humiliation 
and  exaltation,  standing  in  our  room,  we  may 
repute  it  his  as  ours.   If  all  is  paid  that  could 


be  exacted  of  him,  and  therefore  he  set  free 
from  death,  then  are  we  acquitted,  and  have 
nothing  to  pay.  If  he  was  raised  from  the 
dead,  and  exalted  to  glory,  then  so  shall  we  ; 
he  hath  taken  possession  of  that  glory  for  us, 
and  we  may  judge  ourselves  possessed  of  it 
already,  because  he,  our  head,  possessetli  it. 

And  this  the  last  words  of  the  verse  con- 
firm to  us,  implying  this  to  be  the  very  pur- 
pose and  end  for  which  God,  having  given 
him  to  death,  raised  him  up  and  gave  him 
glory  ;  it  is  for  this  end,  expressly,  that  our 
faith  and  hope  might  be  in  God.    The  last 
end  is,  that  we  may  have  life  and  glory 
through  liim  ;  the  nearer  end,  that  in  the 
meanwhile,  till  we  attain  them,  we  may 
have  firm  belief  and  hope  of  them,  and  rest 
on  God  as  the  giver  of  them,  and  so  in  part 
I  enjoy  them  beforehand,  and  be  upheld  in  our 
joy  and  conflicts  by  the  comfort  of  them. 
And  as  St.  Stephen  in  his  vision.  Faith  doth, 
in  a  spiritual  way,  look  through  all  the  visi- 
ble heavens,  and  see  Christ  at  the  Father's 
right  hand,  and  is  comforted  by  that  in  the 
greatest  troubles,  though  it  were  amid  a 
shower  of  stones,  as  St.  Stephen  was.  The 
{  comfort  is  no  less  than  this,  that  being  by 
[  faith  made  one  with  Christ,  his  present  glory 
;  wherein  he  sits  at  the  Father's  right  hand, 
I  is  an  assurance  to  us,  that  where  he  is  we  shall 
\  be  also.  John  xiv.  3. 

j  Ver.  22.  Seeing  ye  iiave  purified  your  souls  in  obey- 
ing the  truth  through  the  Spirit,  unto  unfeigned 
love  of  the  brethren  ;  see  that  ye  love  one  another 
with  a  pure  heart  fervently. 

Jesus  Chrtst  is  made  unto  us  of  God,  wis- 
dom, righteousness,  sanctificalion,  and  re- 
demption, 1  Cor.  i.  30.  It  is  a  known  truth, 
and  yet  very  needful  to  be  often  represented 
to  us,  that  redemption  and  holiness  are  undi- 
vided companions,  yea,  that  we  are  redeemed 
on  purpose  for  this  end,  that  we  should  be 
holy.  The  pressing  of  this,  we  see,  is  here 
J  the  apostle's  scope  ;  and  having  by  that  rea- 
son enforced  it  in  the  general,  he  now  takes 
thai  as  concluded  and  confessed,  and  so  makes 
use  of  it  particularly  lo  exhort  to  the  exercise 
of  that  main  Christian  grace  of  brotherly 
love. 

The  obedience  and  holiness  mentioned  in 
the  foregoing  verses,  comprehend  the  whwle 
duties  and  frame  of  a  Christian  life  toward 
God  and  men:  and,  having  urged  that  in  the 
general,  he  specifies  this  grace  of  mutual 
Christian  love,  as  the  great  evidence  of  their 
sincerity  and  the  truth  of  their  love  to  God  ; 
for  men  are  subject  to  much  hypocrisy  this 
way,  and  deceive  themselves  ;  if  they  find 
themselves  diligent  in  religious  exercises, 
they  scarcAy  once  ask  their  hearts  how  they 
stand  affected  this  way,  namely,  in  love  to 
their  brethren.  They  can  come  constantly 
to  the  church,  and  [)rav,  it  may  be,  at  home 
too,  and  yet  can  not  find  in  tlieir  hearts  tn 
j  forgive  an  injury. 

I     As  forgiving  injuries  argues  the  truth  of 


116 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  i 


lety,  so  it  is  that  which  makes  all  converse 
oih  swiet  and  protiiahlo,  and  besides,  it 
graces  and  commends  meu  in  their  holy  pro- 
fession, to  such  as  are  without  and  strangers 
to  it,  yea,  even  to  their  enemies. 

Therefore  is  it  that  our  Savior  doth  so  much 
recommend  this  to  his  disciples,  and  they  to 
others,  as  we  see  in  all  their  epistles.  He 
gives  it  them  as  the  very  badire  and  livery  by 
which  they  should  be  known  for  his  followers, 
Bij  this  shall  all  men  hnow  that  you  are  my 
disciples,  if  i/e  love  one  ajiother,  xiii.  35.  And 
St.  Paul  is  frequent  in  e.xhorting  to,  and  ex- 
tolling this  grace.  See  Roin.  xii.  10,  and  xiii. 
8  ;  1  Cor.  i.  13  ;  Gal.  v.  13;  Eph.  iv.  2;  and 
in  many  other  places.  He  calls  it  the  h6nd  of 
perfectness,  Col.  iii.  14— thaj  grace  which 
unites  and  binds  all  together.  So  doth  our 
ai)ostle  here,  and  often  in  this  and  the  other 
epistle  ;  and  that  beloved  disciple  St.  John, 
who  leaned  on  our  Savior's  breast,  drank 
deep  of  that  spring  of  love  that  was  here,  and 
therefore  it  streams  forth  so  abundantly  in 
his  writings:  they  contain  nothing  so  much 
as  this  divine  doctrine  of  love. 

We  have  here,  1.  The  due  qualifications 
of  it.    2.  A  Christian's  obligation  to  it. 

The  qualifications  are  three  ;  namely,  sin- 
cerity, purity,  and  fervency.  The  sincerity 
is  expressed  m  the  former  clause  of  the  verse, 
unfeigned  love,  and  repeated  again  in  the 
latter  part,  that  it  be  u-ith  a  pure  heart,  as  the 
purity  is  included  in  fervency. 

1.  Love  must  be  unfeigned.  It  appears 
that  this  dissimulation  is  a  disease  that  is 
very  incident  in  this  particular.  The  apostle 
Si.  Paul  hath  the  same  word,  Rom.  xii.  9,  and 
the  apostle  St.  John  to  the  same  sense,  1  John 
iii.  18.  That  it  have  that  double  reality 
which  is  opposed  to  double-disseriibled  love  ; 
that  it  be  cordial  and  effectual ;  that  the  pro- 
fessing of  it  arise  frjm  truth  of  affection,  and, 
as  much  as  may  ^p,  be  seconded  with  action  ; 
that  both  tli«»  ^e?r'  and  the  hand  may  be  the 
seal  of  it  '■at'^ei  tnan  the  tongue:  not  court 
holy-water  a. id  empty  noise  of  service  and 
affection,  that  fWars  nothing  more  than  to  be 
put  upon  trial.  Aitb  iugh  thy  brother,  with 
whom  thou  conversest,  can  not,  it  may  be, 
see  through  thy  fals'.-  appearances,  He  who 
commands  this  love  looks  chiefly  within, 
seeks  it  there,  and,  if  he  find  it  not  there, 
hates  them  most  v/;io  most  pretend  it ;  so 
that  the  art  of  dir,s<  mbling,  though  ever  so 
well  studied,  can  not  pass  in  this  King's  court, 
to  whom  all  hearts  ire  open,  and  all  desires 
known.  When,  after  variances,  men  are 
brought  to  an  agreement,  they  are  much 
subject  to  this,  rattier  to  cover  their  remain- 
ing malices  with  superficial  verbal  forgive- 
ness, than  to  dislodge  them,  and  free  the 
heart  of  them.  This  is  a  poor  self-deceit. 
As  the  philosopher  said  to  him,  who  being 
ashamed  that  he  was  espied  by  him  in  a 
tavern  in  the  outer  room,  withdrew  himself 
to  the  inner,  he  called  after  him,  "  That  is 
Oct  the  way  out ;  the  more  you  go  that  way, 


you  will  be  the  further  within  it :"  so  when 
hatreds  are  upon  admonition  not  thrown  out, 
hut  retire  inward  to  hide  themselves,  they 
grow  deeper  and  stronsjer  than  before  ,  and 
those  constrained  semblances  of  reeonoile- 
meiit  are  but  a  false  healing,  do  but  skin  the 
wound  over,  and  therefore  it  usually  breaks 
forth  worse  again. 

How  few  there  are  that  have  truly  malice- 
less  hearts,  and  find  this  entire  upright  affec- 
tion toward  their  brethren  meeting  tl>em  in 
their  whole  conversation,  this  law  of  love 
deeply  impressed  on  their  hearts,  an^  fV»jn 
thence  expressed  in  their  words  and  actions, 
and  that  is  unfeigned  love,  as  real  to  their 
brethren  as  to  themselves. 

2.  It  must  be  pure,  from  a  pure  heart. 
This  is  not  all  one  with  the  former,  as  some 
take  it.  It  is  true,  doubleness  or  hypocrisy 
is  an  impurity,  and  a  great  one ;  but  all  im- 
purity is  not  doubleness;  one  may  really 
mean  that  friendship  and  affection  he  expres- 
ses, and  yet  it  may  be  most  contrary  to  that 
which  is  here  required,  because  i?npvre  such 
a  hrotherly  love  as  that  of  Simeon  and  i_evi, 
brethren  in  iniquity,  as  the  expressing  them 
brethren,  Gen.  xlix.,  is  taken  to  mean.  When 
hearts  are  cemented  together  by  impurity 
itself,  by  ungodly  conversation  and  society  in 
sin,  as  in  unclcanness  or  drunkenness,  and  this 
is  a  swinish  fraternity,  a  friendship  which  is 
contracted,  as  it  were  by  wallowing  in  the 
same  mire.  Call  it  good  fellow stiip,  or  what 
you  will,  all  the  fruit  that  in  the  end  can  be 
expected  out  of  unholy  friendliness  and  fel- 
lowship in  sinningtogether,  is,  to  be  tormented 
together,  and  to  add  each  to  the  torment  of 
another. 

The  mutual  love  of  Christians  must  be  pure, 
arising  from  such  causes  as  are  pure  and 
spiritual,  from  the  sense  of  our  Savior's  com- 
mand and  of  his  example  ;  for  he  himself 
joins  that  with  it,  A  new  commandment  give 
I  you,  saith  he,  that  as  I  have  loved  you,  so 
you  also  love  one  another,  John  xiii.  34.  They 
that  are  indeed  lovers  of  God  are  united,  by 
that  their  hearts  meet  in  him,  as  in  one  cen- 
tre: the\' can  not  1  .itlove  oneanother.  Where 
a  godly  man  sees  his  Father's  image,  he  is 
forced  to  love  it;  he  loves  those  whom  he 
perceives  godly,  so  as  to  delight  in  them,  be- 
cause that  image  is  in  them  ;  and  those  that 
appear  destitute  of  it,  he  loves  them  so  as  to 
wish  them  partakers  of  that  image.  And 
this  is  all  for  God;  he  loves  amicum  in  Deo, 
fit  inimicum  propter  Denm  :  that  is,  he  loves 
a  friend  in  God,  and  an  enemy  for  God.  And 
as  tne  Christian's  love  is  pure  in  its  cause, 
so  in  its  effects  and  exercise.  His  society  and 
converse  with  any  tend  mainly  to  this,  that 
he  may  mutually  help  and  be  helped  in  the 
knowledge  and  love  of  God  ;  he  desires  most 
that  he  and  his  brethren  may  jointly  mind 
their  journey  heavenward,  and  further  one 
another  in  their  way  to  the  full  enjoyment  of 
God.  And  this  is  truly  the  love  of  a  pure 
heart,  which  both  begins  and  ends  in  God 


VtR.  22.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


117 


3.  We  must  love  fervently,  not  after  a  cold 
■ndifFercQt  manner.  Let  the  love  of  your 
Drethren  be  as  a  fire  within  you,  consuming 
that  selfishness  which  is  so  contrary  to  it,  and 
is  so  natural  to  men  ;  let  it  set  your  thoughts 
on  work  to  study  how  to  do  others  good  ;  let 
your  love  be  an  active  love,  intense  within 
you,  and  jxtendmg  itself  m  doing  good  to  the 
souls  and  bodies  of  your  brethren  as  they  need, 
ard  you  are  able:  Aliui»re,  ahum  consilio, 
ahum  Gratia  (Seneca  de  beneficiis,  lib.  i.,  c.  2).  ! 
One  by  money,  another  by  counsel,  another 
by  kindness. 

It  is  self-love  that  contracts  the  heart,  and 
shuts  out  all  other  love,  both  of  God  and  man, 
save  only  so  far  as  our  own  interest  carries, 
and  that  is  still  self-love  :  but  the  love  of  God 
dilates  the  heart,  purifies  love,  and  extends  it 
to  all  men,  but  after  a  special  manner  directs 
it  to  those  who  are  more  peculiarly  beloved 
of  him,  and  that  is  here  the  particular  love 
required. 

Love  of  the  brethren.']  In  this  is  implied 
our  obligation  after  a  special  manner  to  love 
those  of  the  household  of  faith,  because  they 
are  our  brethren.  This  includes  not  otily,  as 
Abraham  saith,  that  there  ought  to  be  no  strife 
(Gen.  xiii.  8),  but  it  binds  most  strongly  to 
this  sincere,  and  pure,  and  fervent  love  ;  and 
therefore  the  apostle  in  the  next  verse  repeats 
expressly  the  doctrine  of  the  mysterious  new 
birth,  and  explains  it  more  fully,  which  he 
had  mentioned  in  the  entrance  of  the  epistle, 
and  again  referred  to,  ver.  l-lj  17. 

There  is  in  this  fervent  love,  sympathy 
with  the  griefs  of  our  brethren,  desire  and 
endeavor  to  help  them,  bearing  their  infirmi- 
ties, and  recovering  thetn  too,  if  it  may  be  ; 
raising  them  when  they  fall,  admonishing  and 
reproving  them  as  is  needful,  sometimes 
sharply  and  yet  still  in  love  ;  rejoicing  in  their 
good,  in  their  gifts  and  graces,  so  far  from 
envying  them,  that  we  be  glad  as  if  they  were 
our  own.  There  is  the  same  blood  running 
in  their  veins:  you  have  the  same  Father  and 
the  same  Spirit  within  you,  and  the  same 
Jesus  Christ,  the  head  of  that  glorious  frater- 
nity, Tim  first-born  ainon'r  many  brethren, 
Rom.  viii.  29  ;  of  whom  the  apostle  saith,  that 
He  hath  recollected  into  one,  all  thtn-rs  in 
Heaven  and  in  earth,  Eph.  i.  10.  The  word  is, 

fathered  them  into  one  head  ;  and  so  suits  very 
tly  to  express  our  union  in  him.  In  whom, 
says  he  in  the  same  epistle,  Epii.  iv.  16,  the 
whole  body  is  fitly  compacted  together  ;  and  he 
adds  that  which  agrees  to  our  purpose,  that 
this  body  grows  up  and  edifies  itself  in  love. 
All  the  members  receive  spirits  from  the  same 
heal  and  are  useful  and  serviceable  one  to 
another,  and  to  the  whole  body.  Tiius,  these 
brethren,  receiving  of  the  same  Spirit  from 
their  head,  Christ,  are  most  strongly  bent  to 
the  good  of  one  another.  If  there  be  but  a 
thorn  in  the  foot,  the  back  boweth,  the  head 
stooj)?  down,  the  eyes  look,  the  hands  reach 
to  it,  and  endeavor  its  help  and  ease  :  in  a 
word,  all  the  members  partake  of  the  good 


and  evil,  one  of  another.  Now.  by  how  much 
this  body  is  more  spiritual  and  lively,  so  much 
the  stronger  must  ihe  union  and  love  of  the 
parts  of  it  be  each  to  every  other.  You  are 
brethren  by  the  same  new  birth,  and  born  to 
the  same  inheritance,  and  such  a  one  as  shall 
not  be  an  apple  of  strife  among  you,  to  be- 
get debates  and  contentions:  no,  it  is  enough 
for  all,  and  none  shall  prejudge  another,  but 
you  shall  have  joy  in  the  happiness  one  of 
another  :  seeing  you  shall  then  be  perfect  in 
love;  all  harmony,  no  ditference  in  judgment 
or  in  alTection,  all  your  harps  tuned  to  the 
same  new  song,  which  you  shall  sing  for  ever. 
Let  that  love  begin  here,  which  shall  never 
end. 

And  this  same  union,  I  conceive,  is  likewise 
expressed  in  the  first  words  of  the  verse.  See- 
ing you  are  partakers  of  that  work  of  sanctifi- 
cation  by  the  same  word,  and  the  same  Spirit, 
that  works  it  in  all  the  faithful,  and  are  by 
that  called  and  incorporated  into  that  fraterni- 
ty, therefore  live  in  it  and  like  it.  You  are 
purified  to  it :  therefore  love  one  another  after 
that  same  manner  purely.  Let  the  profane 
world  scoff  at  that  name  of  hrethren ;  you 
will  not  be  so  foolish  as  to  be  scorned  out  of 
it,  being  so  honorable  and  happy  :  and  the 
day  is  at  hand  wherein  those  that  scolf  you, 
Would  give  much  more  than  all  that  the  best 
of  them  ever  possessed  in  the  world,  to  be 
admitted  into  your  number. 

Seeing  you  have  purified  your  souls  in  obey- 
ing the  truth  through  the  Spirit.]  Here  is, 
1.  The  chief  seat,  or  subject  of  the  work  of 
sanctification,  the  soul.  2.  The  subordinate 
means,  truth.  3.  The  nature  of  it,  obeying 
of  truth.  4.  The  chief  worker  of  it,  the  Holy 
Spirit. 

For  the  first,  the  chief  seat  of  sanctification, 
the  soul:  it  is  no  doubt  a  work  that  goes 
through  the  whole  man,  renews  and  purifies 
all.  Heb.  X.  22  ;  2  Cor.  vii.  1.  But  because  it 
purifies  the  soul,  therefore  it  is  that  it  does 
purify  all.  Their  impurity  begins.  Matt.  xv. 
18  ;  not  only  evil  thoughts,  but  all  evil  actions 
come  forth  from  the  heart,  which  is  there  all 
one  with  the  soul  ;  and  therefore  this  purify- 
ing begins  there,  makes  the  tree  good  thai  the 
fruit  inaij  be  nood.  It  is  not  so  much  exter- 
nal perf(jrmances  that  make  the  dilTerencf 
between  men,  as  their  inward  teinjier.  Wi 
meet  here  in  the  same  place,  and  all  partake 
of  the  same  word  and  i)rayer ;  but  how  wide 
a  difference  is  there,  in  God's  eye,  betwixt  an 
unwashed  profane  heart  in  the  same  exercise, 
and  a  soul  j)urified  in  some  measure,  ui  obeying 
the  truth,  and  desirous  to  be  further  purified 
by  further  obeymg  it ! 

Secondly,  That  which  is  the  subordinate 
means  of  this  purity,  is,  the  truth,  or  the 
word  of  God.  It  is  truth,  pure  in  itself,  and 
it  begets  truth  and  purity  in  the  heart,  by 
teaching  it  concerning  the  holy  and  i)ure 
nature  of  (iod,  showing  it  and  his  holy  will, 
which  is  to  us  the  rule  of  jjurity  ;  and  by 
representing  Jesus   Christ  unto  us  as  the 


118 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE. 


[Ohap.  l 


fiiuntain  of  our  purity  and  riMiovation,  from 
wluisi'  I'ulness  we  may  receive  s^race  for  grace. 
Juliii  i.  16. 

Thirdly,  Tlic  nature  of  tliis  work,  that 
wlierein  the-  very  beinyf  of  ihis  jiurifviii<i  coii- 
si^^ls,  is,  //(('  receiving;  or  ohei/ing  of  Ihis  tnilh. 
So  Gal.  iii.  1,  where  it  is  |)ut  for  risrht  be- 
lieving. The  chief  point  of  obedience  is  be- 
lieving ;  the  proper  obedience  to  truth  is  to 
give  credit  to  it;  and  iliis  divine  belief  doih 
neccbsarily  bring  the  whole  soul  inlo  obedi- 
ence and  conformity  to  that  pure  truth  which 
is  in  the  word  ;  and  so  the  very  purifyins-  and 
renewing  of  the  soul  is  this  obedience  oi'  faith, 
as  unbelief  is  its  chief  impurity  and  disobedi- 
ence: therefore.  Acts  xv.  9,  faith  is  said  to 
purify  the  heart. 

Fourthly,  The  chief  worker  of  this  sanctifi- 
cation,is,  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.  They  are 
said  hereto  ynrif y  thrmselrex,  for  it  is  certain 
and  undeniable,  that  the  soul  itself  doth  act 
in  believing  or  obeyuig  the  truth  ;  bul  not  of 
itself,  it  is  not  the  first  principle  ol'  motion. 
They  purify  their  souls,  but  it  is  by  the  Spirit. 
They  do  it  by  His  eidivenin<i  jiower,  and  a 
purifying  virtue  received  t'rom  Him.  Faith,  or 
obeying  the  truth,  works  this  purity,  but  the 
Holy  Ghost  works  that  faith  ;  as  in  the  fore- 
cited  place,  God  is  said  to  pvrify  their  hearts 
by  faith,  ver.  8.  He  doth  that  by  giving  them 
the  Holy  Ghost.  The  truth  is  pure  and  puri- 
fyin<j-,  yet  can  it  not  of  itself  purify  the  soul, 
but  by  the  obeying  or  believimr  of  it :  and  the 
Soul  can  not  obey  or  belii've  but  by  the  Spirit 
which  works  in  it  that  failh,  and  by  that 
faith  purifies  it,  and  works  love  in  it.  The 
inqjuriiy  and  earthliness  of  men's  minds,  is 
the  great  cause  of  disunion  and  disaffection 
among  them, and  of  all  their  strifes.  Jamesiv.  1. 

This  spirit  is  that  fire  which  refines  and 
purifies  the  soul  from  the  dross  of  earthly  de- 
sires that  possess  it,  and  which  sublimates  it 
to  the  love  of  God  and  of  his  saints,  because 
they  are  his,  and  are  purified  by  the  same 
spirit.  It  is  the  property  of  fire  to  draw  to- 
gether things  of  the  same  kind  :  the  outward 
fire  of  enmities  and  |)ersecution  that  are  kin- 
dled against  the  irodly  by  the  world,  doth 
somewhat,  and  if  it  were  more  considered  by 
them,  would  do  more,  in  this  knitting  their 
hearts  closer  one  to  another  ;  but  it  is  this  in- 
ward pure  and  purifyin<r  fire  of  the  Holy 
Ghosi,  that  doih  most  powerfully  unite  them. 

The  true  reason  why  there  is  so  little  truth 
of  this  Christian  mutual  love  amonjj  those 
that  are  called  Christians,  is,  because  there 
is  so  little  of  this  purifying  obedience  to  the 
truth,  whence  it  fiows.  Faith  unfeigned  would 
beget  this  love  unfeigned.  Men  may  exhort 
to  them  both,  but  they  recjuire  the  liand  of 
God  to  work  them  in  the  heart. 
^'ER.  23.  Bcinc;  born  iieain.  not  of  oorruptiblo  seed: 

but  of  ini  ori  u))til)lp,  liy  the  word  of  God,  which  liv- 

eth  and  ahidclh  for  ever. 

Thk  two  things  which  make  up  the  apos- 
tle's exhortation,  are  the  very  sum  of  a  Chris- 
tian's duty  ;  to  walk  as  obedient  children  tow- 


ard God,  and  as  loving  brethren  one  toward 
another:  and  that  it  may  j  et  have  the  deepe," 
impression,  lie  here  re]>resenis  to  them  anew 
that  new  birth  he  mentioned  before,  by  which 
they  are  the  children  of  Gud,  and  s(j  breinren. 

We  shall  first  sjieak  of  this  regeneration  ■ 
and  then  of  the  seed.  Isl,  t)f  the  regenera- 
tion itself.  This  is  (he  great  dignity  of  be- 
lievers, that  they  are  the  sons  of  God,  John 
i.  12,  as  it  is  the  great  evidence  of  the  love 
of  God,  that  he  hath  bestowed  this  dignity 
on  them.  1  John  iii.  1.  For  they  are  no 
way  needful  to  him:  he  had  from  eternity  a 
Son  perfectly  like  himself, //ie  character  of  his 
person,  Heb.  i.  3,  and  one  S])irit  proceeding 
from  both  ;  and  there  is  no  creation,  neither 
the  first  nor  the  second,  can  add  anything  to 
those  and  their  hai)i)iness.  It  is  most  true  of 
that  blessed  Trinity,  Satis  ainplum  alter  alteri 
theatru/n  sitiiius.  But  the  gracious  purpose 
of  God  to  imjiart  his  goodness  ap[)ears  in 
this,  that  he  hath  made  himself  such  a  mul- 
titude of  sons,  not  only  angels  that  are  so 
called,  but  man,  a  little  lower  than  they  in 
nature,  yet  dignified  with  this  nanie  in  his 
creation,  Luke  iii.  38,  Which  was  the  son  of 
Adam,  which  was  the  Son  of  God.  He  had 
not  only  the  impression  of  God's  footsteps  (as 
they  speak),  which  all  the  creatures  have, 
but  of  his  image.  And  most  of  all  in  this,  is 
his  rich  grace  magnified,  that  sin  having  de- 
faced that  image,  and  so  degraded  man  from 
I  his  honor,  and  divested  him  of  that  title  of 
sonship,  and  stamped  our  polluted  nature 
with  the  marks  of  vileness  and  bondage,  yea, 
with  the  very  image  of  Satan,  rebellion  and 
enmity  against  God  ;  that  out  of  mankind 
thus  ruined  and  degenerated,  God  should 
raise  to  himself  a  new  race  and  generation 
of  sons. 

For  this  design  was  the  Word  made  flesh, 
John  i.  12,  the  Son  made  man,  to  make  men 
the  sons  of  God.  Audit  is  by  him  alone  we  are 
restored  to  this :  they  who  receive  him,  receive 
with  him,  and  in  him  this  privilege,  ver.  12. 
And  therefore  it  is  a  sonship  by  adoption,  and 
is  so  called  in  Scripture,  in  difference  from  his 
eternal  and  inelfable  generation,  who  is,  and 
I  was,  the  only  bc  <rolten  Son  of  God.    Yet,  that 
we  may  know  that  this  Divine  adoption  is 
not  a  mere  ont^vard  relative  name,  as  that  of 
I  men,  the  sonship  of  the  saints  is  here,  and 
i  often  elsewhere  in  Scripture,  expressed  by 
j  7iew  ireneration,  and  new  birth.    They  are 
I  begotten  of  God.    John  i.  13  :  1  John  ii.  29. 
A  new  being,  a  spiritual  life,  is  communica- 
ted to  them  ;  they  have  in  them  of  their  Fa- 
ther's Spirit  ;  and  this  is  derived  to  them 
'  through  Christ,  and  therefore  called  bis  Sjjirit. 
Gal.  iv.  6.    They  are  not  only  accounted  of 
the  family  of  God  by  adoption,  but  by  this 
new  birth  they  are  indeed  his  children,  par- 
takers of  the  Divine  nature,  as  our  apostle 
expresseth  it. 

Now  though  it  be  easy  to  speak  and  hear 
■1  the  words  of  this  doctrine,  yet  the  truth  itself 
I  that  is  in  it,  is  so  high  and  mysterious,  that  a 


Ver.  23.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


119 


is  altogether  impossible,  without  a  portion  of 
this  new  nature,  to  conceive  of  it.  Corrupt 
nature  can  not  understand  it.  What  wonder 
that  there  is  nothing  of  it  in  tlie  subtilest 
schools  of  philosopliers,  when  a  very  doctor 
in  Israel  mistook  it  grossly  !  John  iii.  10.  It 
is  indeed  a  great  mystery,  and  he  that  was 
the  sublimest  of  all  the  evangelists,  and  there- 
fore called  the  divine,  the  soaring  eagle  (as 
they  compare  him),  he  is  more  abundant  in 
this  subject  than  the  rest. 

And  the  most  profitable  way  of  considering 
this  regeneration  and  sonship,  is  certainly  to 
follow  the  light  of  those  holy  writings,  and 
not  to  jangle  in  disputes  about  the  order  and 
manner  of  it,  of  which,  tiiough  somewhat 
may  be  profitably  said,  and  safely,  namely, 
so  much  as  the  Scripture  speaks,  yet  much 
that  is  spoken  of  it,  and  debated  by  many, 
is  but  a  useless  expense  of  time  and  pains. 
What  those  previous  dispositions  are,  and 
how  far  they  go,  and  where  is  the  mark  or 
point  of  dirt'erence  between  them  and  the  in- 
fusion of  spiritual  life,  I  conceive  not  so  ea- 
sily determinable. 

If  naturalists  and  physicians  can  not  agree 
upon  the  order  of  formation  of  the  parts  of 
the  human  body  in  the  womb,  iiow  much  less 
can  we  be  peremptory  in  the  other!  If  there 
be  so  many  wonders  fas  indeed  there  be)  in 
the  natural  structure  and  frame  of  man,  how 
much  richer  in  wonders  must  this  Divine  and 
supernatural  generation  be  !  See  how  David 
speaks  of  the  former.  Psal.  xiv.  15.  Things 
spiritual  being  more  refined  than  material 
things,  their  workmanship  must  be  far  more 
wonderful  and  curious.  But  then,  it  must  be 
viewed  with  a  spiritual  eye.  There  is  an 
unspeakable  lustre  and  beauty  of  the  new 
creature,  by  the  mixture  of  all  Divine  graces, 
each  setting  off  another,  as  so  many  rich  sev- 
eral colors  in  embr(jidery  ;  but  who  can  trace 
that  invisible  hand  that  works  it,  so  as  to  de- 
termine of  the  order,  and  to  say  whicli  was 
first,  which  second,  and  so  on  ;  whether  fiiith, 
or  repentance,  and  all  graces,  &c.  ?  This  is 
certain,  that  these  and  all  graces  do  insepa- 
rably make  up  the  same  work,  and  are  all  in 
the  new  formation  of  every  soul  that  is  born 
again.  I 

If 'he  ways  of  God's  universal  providence  i 
be  untraceable,  then  most  of  all  the  workings 
of  his  grace  are  conducted  'ii  a  secn.M  uiiper- 
ceivable  way  in  'his  new  birth.  He  gives 
this  spiritual  being  as  the  dew,  which  is  si- 1 
lenliy  and  insensibly  formed,  and  this  genera- 
tion of  tlie  sons  of  God  is  cornpar"d  to  it  by 
the  Psalmist,  Psal.  ex.  3:  they  have  this  ori- 
ginal from  Heaven  as  the  dew.  Except  a 
man  he  horn  from  almne,  he  can  not  entir  into 
the  ktn^diim  of  (ioil.  John  iii.  3.  And  it  is 
the  peculiar  work  o{  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  as  he 
himself  speaks  of  the  dew  to  Job,  Job  xxxviii.  : 
28,  llalk  the.  rain  a  father,  or  who  hath  heirot- 
ten  l.hc  /Jronf  of  the  dew  ?  The  sharpest  wits 
are  to  seek  in  the  knowledge  and  discovery 
of  it,  as  Job  speaketh  of  a  wav  that  no  fowl 


knoweth,  and  which  the  vulture'' s  eye  hath  not 
seen.    Chap,  xxviil.  7. 

To  contest  much,  how  in  this  regeneration 
he  works  upon  the  will,  and  renews  it,  is  to 
little  purpose,  provided  this  be  granted,  that 
it  is  in  his  power  to  regenerate  and  renew  a 
man  at  his  pleasure :  and  how  is  it  possible 
not  to  grant  this,  unless  we  will  run  into  that 
error,  to  think  that  Gud  hath  made  a  crea- 
ture too  hard  for  himself  to  rule,  or  hath  wil. 
lingly  exempted  it  ?  And  shall  the  works  of 
the  Alnii£;hty,  especially  this  work,  wherein 
most  of  all  others  he  glories,  fail  in  his  hand, 
and  remain  imperfect  ?  Shall  there  be  any 
abortive  births  whereof  God  is  the  father  ? 
Shall  I  bring  to  the  birth,  and  ?iot  cause  to 
bring  forth  1  Isa.  Ixvi.  9.  No  ;  no  sinner  so 
dead,  but  there  is  virtue  in  his  hand  to  re- 
vive out  of  the  very  stones.  Though  the 
most  impenitent  hearts  are  as  stones  within 
them  yet  he  can  make  of  them  children  to 
Abraham.  Luke  iii.  8.  He  can  dig  out  the 
heart  of  stone,  and  put  a  .fart  of  ficsh  in  its 
place,  Ezek.  xxvi.  2Q ;  otherwise,  he  would 
not  have  made  such  a  promise.  Not  of  flesh 
nor  of  the  ivill  of  man,  but  of  God.  John 
i.  13.  If  his  sovereign  will  is  not  a  sufficient 
principle  of  this  regeneration,  why  then  says 
the  Apostle  St.  James,  Of  his  own  ivill  begat 
he  us  1  Aud  he  adds  the  subordinate  cause. 
By  the  word  of  truth,  James  i.  18,  which  is 
here  called  the  immortal  seed  of  this  new 
birth. 

Therefore  it  is  that  the  Lord  hath  appoint- 
ed the  continuance  of  the  ministry  of  this 
word,  to  the  end  that  his  church  may  be  still 
fruitful,  bringing  forth  sons  unto  him  ;  that 
the  assemblies  of  his  people  may  be  like 
flocks  of  sheep  coming  up  from  the  washing, 
none  barren  amon^  them.  Cant.  iv.  2. 

Though  the  ministers  of  this  word,  by 
reason  of  their  employment  in  dispensing  it, 
have,  by  the  Scriptures,  the  relation  of  pa- 
rents im|)arted  to  them  (which  is  an  exceed- 
ing great  dignity  for  them  as  they  arc  called 
co-workers  with  God  ;  and  the  same  apostle 
that  writes  so,  calls  the  Galatians  hk  little 
children,  of  whom  he  travailed  in  birth  again 
till  Christ  were  formed  in  them;  and  the 
ministers  of  God  have  often  very  much  pain 
in  this  travail)  ;  yet  the  privilege  of  the 
father  of  s|)irits  remains  untouched,  which 
is,  elfectually  to  beget  again  those  same  spir- 
its which  he  creates,  and  to  make  that  seed 
of  the  word  fruitful  in  the  way  and  at  the 
season  that  it  may  j)lease  him.  The  preacher 
of  the  word,  be  he  never  so  powerful,  can 
cast  this  seed  only  into  the  ear  ;  his  hand 
reaches  no  farther  ;  and  the  hearer,  by  his 
attention,  may  coivey  it  into  his  head  ;  but 
it  is  the  supreme  father  and  teacher  above 
who  carries  it  ini.i  the  hea'l,  the  only  soil 
wherein  it  proves  ii^ely  ant'  friii/fi'l.  One 
man  can  not  reach  ii:e  b^-STt  (W  apo'h"r  ;  hovr 
should  he  then  renev\'  'ts  fruitl'tUii<'Ss '<  Ifnat 
ural  births  have  been  iviwavs  aokncwit-dffed 
to  belong  to  God's  pu'io^j-b.'.     •..^<^-  ^vir.i 


120 


A  COMMENTARV  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  i. 


3,  Lo,  children  are  a  herttas;e  of  the  Lord,  \ 
and  th':  friit  of  the  womb  is  his  reward  ;  and 
so  JacoC  aiiswi-red  wisely  to  his  wife's  focilish  ' 
passion,  Gen.  xxx.  2,  Am  I  in  God^s  stead  ?) 
how  much  more  is  this  new  birth  wholly  de-  I 
pendant  on  his  hand  !  ] 

But  tlniujrh  tiiis  word  can  not  beset  with- 
out him,  yet  it  is  by  this  wt)rd  tliat  he  i)e- 
gels,  and  (jrdinarily  nut  without  it.  It  is  true 
that  the  sul)>tantial  eternal  word  is  to  us  (as 
we  said)  the  spring  of"  this  new  birili  and 
life,  the  head  i'rom  whom  the  spirits  of  this 
supernatural  life  flow  ;  but  that  by  the  irord 
here,  is  meant  the  gospel,  the  apostle  puts 
out  of  doubt,  verse  the  last,  And  this  is  tne 
word  which  by  the  gospel  is  preached  ii/ilo 
you.  Therefore  ilius  is  this  word  reallv  the 
seed  of  this  new  birih,  because  it  contains 
and  declares  that  otlier  word,  the  Son  of 
God,  as  our  life.  The  word  is  spoken  in 
common,  and  so  is  the  same  to  all  hearers  ; 
bi.t  then,  all  hearts  being  naturally  shut 
aji.ainst  it,  God  doth  by  his  own  hand  o]ien 
stme  to  receive  it,  and  mixes  it  with  faith  ; 
and  those  it  renews,  and  restoreth  in  them 
the  image  of  God,  draws  the  traces  of  it 
anew,  and  makes  them  the  sons  of  God.  My 
doctrine  sha/i  drop  as  the  de&,  says  Moses, 
Deut.  xxxii.  2.  The  word,  as  a  heavenly  dew, 
not  falling  beside,  but  dropped  into  the  heart 
by  the  hand  of  God's  own  Spirit,  makes  it 
all  become  spiritual  and  heavenly,  and  turns 
it  into  one  of  those  drops  of  dew  that  the 
cliildren  of  God  are  compared  to.  Psalm  ex.  3. 
Thou  hast  the  dew  of  ihy  youth. 

Tlie  natural  estate  of  the  soul  is  darkness, 
and  the  word,  as  a  divine  light  shinins-  into 
it,  transforms  the  soul  into  its  own  nature; 
so  that  as  the  word  is  called  light,  so  is  the 
soul  that  is  renewed  by  it.  Ye  were  dark- 
ness, but  now  are  ye,  not  only  enlightened, 
but  lu'ht  in  the  Lord,  Eph.  v.  8.  All  the 
evils  of  the  natural  mind  are  often  comprised 
under  the  name  of  darkness  and  error,  and 
therefore  is  the  whole  work  of  conversion 
lil:ewise  signified  by  light  and  truth  :  He  be- 
gat us  by  the  word  of  truth.  Jam.  i.  18.  So 
2  Cor.  iv.  16,  alluding  to  the  first  Fiat  Lux, 
or,  Let  there  be  lii^ht,  in  the  creation.  The 
word  brought  within  the  soul  by  the  Spirit, 
lets  it  see  its  own  necessity,  and  Christ's  suf-  , 
ficiency  convinceth  it  thoroughly,  and  caus- 1 
eth  it  to  cast  over  itself  upon  him  for  life; 
and  this  is  the  very  begetting  of  it  again  to 
eternal  life. 

So  that  this  efficacy  of  the  word  to  prove 
successful  seed,  doth  not  hang  ui)on  the  dif- 
ferent abilities  of  the  preachers,  their  having 
more  or  less  rhetoric  or  learning.  It  is  true, 
eloquence  hath  a  great  advantage  in  civil  and 
moral  things  to  persuade,  and  to  draw  the 
hearers  by  the  ears,  almost  which  way  it 
will  ;  but  in  this  spiritual  work,  to  revive  a 
«cul,  to  beget  it  anew,  the  influence  of  heaven 
is  the  main  thing  requisite.  There  is  no 
way  so  common  and  plain  (being  warranted 
by  God  in  the  delivery  of  saving  truth),  but 


the  Spirit  of  God  can  revive  the  soul  by  it  , 
and  the  most  skilful  and  authoritative  way, 
yea,  being  withal  very  s])iritual,  yet  may  ef- 
fect nothing,  because  left  alone  to  itself.  One 
word  of  holy  Scri])iure,  or  of  truth  conforma- 
ble to  it,  may  be  the  princi])le  of  regenera- 
tion to  him  that  hath  heard  multitudes  of  ex- 
cellent sermons,  and  halh, often  read  the 
whole  bible,  and  haih  still  continued  un- 
changed, if  the  Spirit  of  God  j'rcach  that 
one  or  any  such  word  to  the  soul,  God  so 
loved  the  u  orld,  that  he  gave  his  only  begot- 
ten  Son,  that  whosoever  should  belv.ve  in  him . 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlaslms:  life, 
John  iii.  15,  it  will  be  cast  down  with  the 
fear  of  perishing,  and  driven  out  of  itself  by 
that,  and  raised  up  and  drawn  to  Jesus  Christ 
by  the  hope  of  everlasting  life  ;  it  will  be- 
lieve on  him  that  it  may  have  life,  and  be 
inflamed  with  the  love  of  (Jod,  and  give  it- 
self to  him  who  so  loved  the  world,  as  to 
give  his  only  begotten  Son  to  purchase  for 
us  that  everlasting  life.  Thus  may  that  word 
prove  this  immortal  seed,  which,  though  very 
often  read  and  heard  before,  was  but  a 
dead  letter.  A  drop  of  those  liquors  which 
are  called  spirits  operates  more  than  large 
draughts  of  other  waters  ;  one  word  spoken 
bv  the  Lord  to  the  heart  is  all  spirit,  and 
doih  that  which  whole  streams  of  man's  elo- 
quence could  never  efl'ect. 

In  hearing  of  the  word,  men  look  usually 
too  much  uj)on  men,  and  forget  from  what 
spring  the  word  hath  its  power  ;  they  ob- 
serve too  narrowly  the  different  hand  of  the 
sowers,  and  too  little  depend  on  liis  hand, 
who  is  great  Lord  of  both  seed-time  and  har- 
vest. Be  it  sown  by  a  weak  hand,  or  a 
stronger,  the  immortal  seed  is  still  the  same; 
yea,  suppose  the  worst,  that  it  be  a  foul  hand 
that  sows  it,  that  the  preacher  himself  be  not 
so  sanctified  and  of  so  edifying  a  life  as  you 
would  wish,  yet,  the  seed  itself,  being  good, 
contracts  no  defilement,  and  may  be  effectual 
to  regeneration  in  some,  and  to  the  strength- 
ening of  others  ;  although  he  that  is  not  re- 
newed by  it  himself,  can  not  have  much 
hope  of  success,  nor  reap  much  comfort  by  it, 
and  usually  doth  not  seek  nor  regard  it  much ; 
but  all  instruments  are  alike  in  an  Almighty 
hand. 

Hence  learn,  1.  That  true  conversion  is  not 
so  slight  a  work  as  we  commonly  account  it. 
It  is  not  the  outward  chan<;e  of  some  bad  cus- 
toms, which  gains  the  name  of  a  reformed 
man,  in  the  ordinary  dialect  ;  it  is  a  net* 
birth  and  being,  and  elsewhere  called  a  new 
creation.  Though  it  be  but  a  change  in 
qualities,  yet  it  is  such  a  one,  and  the  quali- 
ties are  so  far  difl'ereni,  that  it  bears  the 
name  of  the  most  substantial  productions 
from  children  of  disobedience,  nnd  tiiat  which 
is  linked  with  it,  heirs  of  irrath,  lo  be  sons  of 
God,  and  heirs  of  glory!  They  have  a  new 
spirit  given  them,  a  free,  princely,  noble  spir- 
it, as  the  word  is,  Psal.  ii.  10,  and  this  sp'ric 
acts  in  their  life  and  actions. 


Ver.  21.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


1? 


2.  Consider  this  dignity,  and  be  kindled 
VFith  an  ambition  worthy  of  it.  How  doth  a 
Christian  pity  that  poor  vanity  which  men 
make  so  much  noise  about,  of  their  kindred 
and  extraction  ?  This  is  worth  glorying  in 
indeed,  to  be  of  the  highest  blood-royal,  sans 
of  the  King  of  kings  by  this  new  birth,  and  in 
the  nearest  relation  to  him.  This  adds  match- 
less honor  to  that  birth  which  is  so  honora- 
ble in  the  esteem  of  the  world. 

But  we  all  pretend  to  be  of  this  number. 
Would  we  not  study  to  cozen  ourselves,  the 
discovery  whether  we  are,  or  not,  would  not 
be  so  hard. 

In  many,  their  false  confidence  is  too  evi- 
dent ;  there  is  no  appearance  in  them  of  the 
Spirit  of  God,  not  a  footstep  like  his  leading, 
nor  any  trace  of  that  character,  Rom.  viii.  14, 
As  many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  they 
ore  the  children  of  God  ;  not  a  lineament  of 
God's  visage,  as  their  Father.  Jf  ye  know 
that  he  is  rii^hteous  (says  St.  John,  ch.'ii.  29), 
ye  know  then  that  every  one  that  doth  righte- 
ousness is  horn  of  him.  And  so,  on  the  other 
hand,  how  contrary  to  the  most  holy  God, 
the  lover  and  fountain  of  holiness,  are  they 
who  swinishly  love  to  wallow  in  the  mire  of 
unholiness  !  Is  swearing  and  cursing  the  ac- 
cent of  the  regenerate,  the  children  of  God  ? 
No  ;  it  is  the  language  of  hell.  Do  children 
delight  to  indiirnify  and  dishonor  their  fa- 
ther's naine  ?  No  :  earthly-mindedness  is  a 
countersign.  Shall  the  kiiiij's  children,  they 
that  were  hrou^ht  up  in  scarlet  (as  Jeremiah 
laments),  embrace  the  dun'^hill?  Lam.  iv.  n. 
Princes;  by  their  high  birth,  and  education, 
have  usuall)  their  hearts  filled  with  far  higher 
thoughts  than  mean  persons:  the  children  of 
the  poorest  sort  being  pinched  that  way, 
their  greatest  thouirlits,  as  they  grow  up,  are, 
ordinarily,  hovv  they  shall  shift  to  live,  how 
they  shall  ge  their  l)read  ;  but  princes  think 
either  uf  tiic  conquest  or  governing  of  kiiiir- 
doms.  Ar«  you  not  born  to  a  better  inherit- 
ance, if  indeed  you  are  born  again  :  why  then 
do  you  vilify  yciurselves  ?  Why  are  you  not 
more  in  prayer?  There  are  no  dumb  chil- 
dren among  those  that  are  born  of  God  ;  they 
have  all  that  Spirit  of  prayer  by  which  they 
not  only  s[)eak,  but  cry,  Ahlm,  Father. 

2dly.  We  come  to  consider  the  seed  of  this 
regeneration,  the  word  nf  God.  The  most  part 
of  us  esteem  the  preaching  of  the  word,  as 
a  transient  discourse  that  amuses  us  for  an 
hour.  We  look  for  no  more,  and  therefore 
we  find  no  more.  We  receive  it  not  as  the 
immortal  seed  of  our  resrcneration,  as  the  in- 
grafted vJord  that  is  ahle  to  save  our  souls. 
Jam.  i.  2L  Oh  !  learn  to  reverence  this  holy 
and  happy  ordinance  of  God,  this  word  of 
life,  and  ktKAv,  that  they  who  are  not  regen- 
erated, and  so  saved  by  it,  shall  be  judged 
by  it. 

Not  of  corruptihle  seed.']    It  is  a  main 
cause  of  the  unsuitable  and  unworthy  beha- 
vior of  Christians  (those  that  profess  thetri- 
scives  siich),  that  a  great  part  of  them  either 
16 


do  not  know,  or  at  least  do  not  seriously  and 
frequently  consider,  what  is  indeed  the  estate 
and  quality  of  Christians,  how  excellent  and 
of  what  descent  their  new  nature  is  ;  there- 
fore they  are  often  to  be  reminded  of  this. 
Our  apostle  here  doth  so,  and  by  it  binds  on 
all  his  exhortations. 

Of  this  new  being  we  have  here  these 
two  thmgs  specified  :  1.  Its  high  origi- 
nal from  God,  Begotten  again  nf  his  word  : 
2.  That  which  so  much  commends  good 
things,  its  duration.  And  this  follows  from 
the  other  ;  for  if  the  principle  of  this  be  incor- 
ruptible, itself  must  be  so  too.  The  word  of 
God  is  not  only  a  living  and  ever-abiding 
word  in  itself,  bnt  likewise  in  reference  tc 
this  new  birth  and  spiritual  life  of  a  Chris- 
tian ;  and  in  this  sense  that  which  is  here 
spoken  of  it,  is  intended :  it  is  therefore  called, 
not  only  an  abiding  word  but  incorrvptihle 
seed,  which  expressly  relates  to  regeneration. 
And  because  we  arc  most  sensible  of  the  good 
and  evil  of  things  by  comparison,  the  ever- 
lastingness  of  the  word  and  of  that  spiritual 
life  which  it  begets,  is  set  off'  by  the  frailty 
and  shortness  of  natural  life,  and  of  all  the 
good  that  concerns  it,  This  the  apostle  ex- 
presseth  in  the  words  cf  Isaiah,  in  the  next 
verse. 

Vf.k.  24.  For  all  flesh  is  as  grass,  and  all  the  glory 
of  man  as  the  flower  of  <^rass  :  the  grass  withereth, 
and  the  flower  thereof  lalleth  away. 

In  expressing  the  vanity  and  frailty  of  the 
natural  life  of  man,  it  agrees  very  well  with 
the  subject  to  call  him  Jlesh,  givinsr  to  the 
whole  man  the  name  of  his  corru|)iil)lc  part, 
both  to  make  the  wretched  and  jicri^hing 
condition  of  this  life  more  sensible,  and  man 
the  more  humble  by  it ;  for  though  by  provi- 
ding all  for  the  flesh,  and  bestowing  his 
whole  time  in  the  endeavors  which  are  of  the 
flesh's  concernment,  he  remembers  it  too 
much,  and  forgets  his  spiritual  and  immortal 
part  ;  yet,  in  that  over-eager  care  for  the 
flesh,  he  seems,  in  some  sense,  to  forg-et  that 
he  is  flesh,  or,  at  least,  that  flesh  is  perishing 
because  flesh  ;  extending  his  desires  and  pro- 
jects so  far  for  the  fle^h,  as  if  it  were  immor- 
tal, and  should  always  abide  to  enjoy  and  use 
these  thin<rs.  As  the  ])hilosoplier  f  aid  of  his 
countrymen,  upbraiding  at  once  their  surfeit- 
ings  and  excess  in  feastino:,  and  their  sump- 
tuuusness  in  building,  "  That  they  ale  as  if 
they  meant  to  die  to-morrow,  and  yet  built  as 
if  they  were  never  to  die  :"  thus,  in  men's  im- 
moderate pursuits  of  earth,  they  seem  both  tc 
forget  they  are  anything  else  beside  flesh, 
and  in  this  sense,  too,  to  forget  that  they  are 
flesh,  that  is,  mortal  and  perishing  ;  they 
rightly  remember  neither  their  immortality 
nor  their  mortality.  If  we  consider  what  it 
is  to  be  flesh,  the  naming  of  that  were  sufl[i- 
cient  to  the  purpose  :  All  man  is  flesh  :  but  it 
is  plainer  thus.  All  Jlrsh  is  grass.  Thus,  in 
the  Ixxviiith  Psalm,  //c  remembered  that  they 
were  but  flesh  ;   that  speaks  their  frailtv 


122 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Caap.  I. 


enouiih  ;  but  it  is  add«  J,  to  niuko  the  vanity 
of  ilicir  estate  the  clearer — «  vind  thai  pus- 
set  h  and  cornel h  not  again.  So  Pi-al.  ciii.  15. 
As  for  man,  his  dai/s  am  as  grass,  as  a  Jlou'cr 
of  the  field  so  he  Jloiirishefh.  For  the  iviud 
jasseth  over  it  and  il  ts  gone,  and  the  place 
thtreof  shall  know  it  no  more. 

Tiiis  naiural  lite  is  compared,  even  by  nat- 
ural men,  to  the  vainest  things,  and  scarcely 
find  ihey  things  light  enough  to  express  its 
vuniiij  ;  as  it  is  here  called  grass,  so  they 
have  compared  the  generations  of  men  to  the 
leaves  of  trees.  But  the  light  of  Scripture 
doth  most  discover  this,  and  it  is  a  lesson  that 
li-quires  the  Spirit  of  God  to  teach  it  aright. 
Teach  us  (says  Moses,  Psal.  xc.  12)  so  to  num- 
ber our  days  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts 
unto  wisdom.  Aiid  David  (Psal.  xxxix.  4), 
]\'la/,e  me  to  know  my  life,  how  frail  J  am.  So 
James  iv.  14,  What  is  your  life  ?  it  is  even  a 
vapor.  And  h^re  it  is  called  grass.  So  Job 
Tiv.  1,  2,  Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman,  is  of 
few  days  and  full  of  trouble.  He  Cometh 
forth  like  a  foicer  and  is  cut  doion. 

Grass  hath  its  root  in  the  earth,  and  is  fed 
by  the  moisture  of  it  for  awhile  ;  but  besides 
that,  it  is  under  the  hazard  of  such  weather 
as  favors  it  not,  or  of  the  scythe  that  cuts  it 
down  :  give  it  all  the  forbearance  that  may 
be,  let  it  be  free  from  botn  those,  yet  how 
quickly  will  it  wither  of  itself!  Set  aside 
those  many  accidents,  the  smallest  of  which 
is  able  to  dei?trov  our  naiural  life,  the  dis- 
eases of  our  own  hodies,  and  outward  violen- 
ces, and  casualties  that  cut  down  many  in 
their  greenness,  in  the  flower  of  their  youth, 
the  utmost  term  is  not  long  ;  in  the  course  of 
nature  it  will  wither.  Our  life  indeed  is  a 
lighted  torch,  either  blown  out  by  some  stroke 
or  some  wind,  or,  if  spared,  yet  within  a 
while  it  burns  away,  and  will  die  out  of 
itself. 

And  all  the  glori/  of  man.'\  This  is  ele- 
gantly added.  There  is  indeed  a  great  deal 
of  seeming  difference  between  the  outward 
conditions  of  life  among  men.  Shall  the  rich, 
and  honorable,  and  beautiful,  and  healthful, 
go  in  together,  under  the  same  name,  with 
the  baser  and  unhappier  part,  the  poor, 
wretched  sort  of  the  world,  who  seem  to  be 
born  for  notiiing  but  sufferings  and  miseries? 
At  least  hath  the  wise  no  advantage  beyond 
the  fools  ?  Is  all  grass  ?  Make  you  no  dis- 
tinction ?  No  ;  all  is  grass,  or  if  you  will 
have  some  other  name,  be  it  so :  once,  this  is 
true,  that  all  flesh  is  grass:  and  if  that  glory 
which  shines  so  much  in  your  eyes,  must 
have  a  difference,  then  this  is  all  it  can  have 
— it  is  but  the  fower  of  that  same  grass  ; 
Boraewhat  above  the  common  grass  in  gay- 
ness,  a  little  cornelier,  and  better  apparelled 
than  it,  bu;  partaker  of  its  frail  and  fading 
nature;  it  haih  no  privilege  nor  immunity 
that  way  :  yea,  of  the  two,  is  the  less  dura- 
ble, and  usually  shorter  lived  ;  at  the  best  it 
decays  with  it :  The  grass  witherelh,  and  the 
flower  thereof  fallcth  away. 


How  easily  and  quickly  hath  the  hiirhesi 
siileiulor  of  a  man's  prosjierity  been  biasied, 
either  by  men's  power,  or  by  the  immediate 
hand  of  God  !  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  blows 
upon  it  (as  Isaiah  there  says],  and  by  that, 
not  only  withers  the  grass,  l)Ut  the  flower 
fades  though  never  so  fair.  When  thou  cor- 
reclest  man  for  inujuiiy,  says  David,  thou 
niakest  his  beauty  to  consume  away  like  a 
moth.  Psal.  xxxix.  11.  How  many  have  the 
casualties  of  fire,  or  war,  or  shi])wreok,  in 
one  day,  or  in  one  night,  or  in  a  small  part  of 
either,  turned  out  of  great  riches  into  extreme 
poverty  !  And  the  instances  are  not  few,  of 
those  who  have  on  a  sudden  fallen  from  the 
top  of  honor  into  the  foulest  disgraces,  not  by 
degrees  coming  down  the  stair'they  went  up, 
but  tumbled  down  headlong.  And  the  most 
vigorous  beauty  and  strenglli  of  body,  how 
doth  a  few  days'  sickness,  or  if  it  escape  that, 
a  few  years'  time,  blast  that  flower !  Yea, 
those  higher  advantages  which  have  some- 
what both  (jf  truer  and  more  lasting  beauty 
in  tbem,  the  endowments  of  wit,  and  learn- 
ing, and  eloquence,  yea,  and  of  moral  good- 
ness, and  virtue,  yet  they  can  not  rise  above 
this  word,  they  are  still,  in  all  their  glory, 
but  the  fower  of  grass  ;  their  root  is  in  the 
earth.  Natural  ornaments  are  of  some  use 
in  this  present  life,  but  they  reach  no  farther. 
When  men  have  wasted  their  strength,  and 
endured  the  toil  of  study  night  and  day, 
it  is  but  a  small  parcel  of  knowledge  they 
can  attain  to,  and  they  are  forced  to  lie  down 
in  the  dust  in  the  midst  of  their  pursuit  of  it: 
that  bead  that  lodges  most  sciences  shall 
within  a  Avhile  be  disfurnished  of  them  all ; 
and  the  tongue  that  speaks  most  languages 
be  silenced. 

The  great  projects  of  kings  and  princes, 
and  they  also  themselves,  come  under  this 
same  notion  ;  all  the  vast  designs  that  are 
framing  in  their  heads  fall  to  the  ground  in  a 
moment ;  They  return  to  their  dust  and  in 
that  day  all  their  thoughts  perish.  Psal.  cxlvi. 
4.  Archimedes  was  killed  in  the  midst  of  his 
demonstration. 

If  they  themselves  did  consider  this  in  the 
heat  of  their  affairs,  it  Avould  much  allay  the 
swelling  and  loftiness  of  their  minds  ;  and  if 
they  who  live  upon  their  favor  would  con- 
sider it,  they  would  not  value  it  at  so  high  a 
rate,  and  buy  it  so  dear  as  often  they  do.  Men 
of  low  degree  are  vanity,  says  the  Psalmist 
(Psal.  Ixii.  9),  but  he  adds,  Men  of  high  de- 
i^ree  are  a  lie.  From  base,  mean  persons  we 
expect  nothing;  but  the  estate  i>f  great  per- 
sons promises  fair,  and  often  keeps  not ; 
therefore  they  are  a  lie,  although  they  can 
least  endure  that  word. 

'J'hey  are,  in  respect  of  mean  ])ersons,  as 
the  flower  to  the  grass ;  a  somewhat  fairer 
lustre  they  have,  but  no  more  endurance,  nor 
exemption  from  decaying.  Thus  then,  it  is 
a  universal  and  undeniable  truth  :  it  begins 
here  with  <5ior<,  and  is  as  sure  a  conclusion  as 
the  surest  of  those  in  their  best  demonstra» 


\'er  25  ] 


FIRST  EPI^>TLE  OF  PETER. 


123 


tions,  w'.iich  they  call  t^ion.    And  as  particu- 1 
lar  men,  so,  whole  states  and  kingdoms  have 
thus  llieir  budding,  flourishing,  and  wiiher- 
ing,  and  it  is  ia  both  as  with  flowers — when 
they  are  fullest  spread,  then  they  are  near  their ' 
declining  and  withering.    And  thus  it  is  with  i 
all  whole  generations  of  men  upon  earth  :  as 
Solomon  says,  One  goelh,  and  another  coinelh, 
Eccl.  i.  4  ;  but  not  a  word  of  abiding  at  all. 
We,  in  our  thoughts,  shut  up  death  into  a  I 
very  narrow  compass,  namely,  into  the  mo- 
meat  of  our  expiring ;  but  the  truth  is,  as  the 
moralist  observes,  it  goes  through  all  our  life  ; 
for  we  are  still  losing  and  spending  life  as  we 
enjoy  it,  yea,  our  very  enjoying  of  it  is  the 
spendhig  of  it.    Yesterday's  life  is  dead  to- 
day, and  so  shall  this  day's  iife  be  to-morrow. 
We  spend  our  years,  says  Moses,  as  a  tale 
(Psal.  xc.  8),  or  as  a  thought,  so  swift  and 
vanishing  is  it.    Every  word  helps  a  tale 
toward  its  end  ;  while  it  lasts,  it  is  generally  j 
vanity,  and  when  it  is  done,  it  vanishes  as  a 
sound  in  the  air.    What  is  become  of  all  the 
pompous  solemnities  of  kings  and  princes  at ' 
their  births  and  marriages,  coronations  and 
triumphs  ?  They  are  now  as  a  dream  ;  as  St. 
Luke  (,\cis  XXV.  23)  calls  the  pomp  of  Agrip- 
pa  and  Bernice,  /-(ura-Ti,.,  a  mere  phantasy. 

Hence,  learn  the  folly  and  pride  of  man, 
who  can  irlory  and  please  himself  in  the  frail 
and  wretched  being  he  haih  here,  who  doats 
on  this  poor  natural  life,  and  can  not  be  per- 
suaded to  think  on  one  higher  and  more  abi- 
ding, although  the  course  of  time,  and  his 
daily  experience,  tell  him  this  truth,  that  all  \ 
flesh  is  i^rass.    Yea,  the  prophet  prefixes  to 
these  Words  a  command  of  crying  ;  thev  must 
be  shouted  aloud  in  our  ears,  ere  we  will  hear 
them,  and  by  that  lime  the  sound  of  the  cry 
is  done,  we  have  forgotten  it  again.  Would 
we  consider  this,  ip  the  midst  of  those  vaiii-  ; 
ties  that  toss  our  light  minds  to  and  fro,  it 
Would  give  us  wiser  thoughts,  and  ballast 
our  hearts  :  make  them  more  solid  and  stead- 
fast in  tlujse  spiritual  endeavors  which  con- 1 
cern  a  durable  condition,  a  beins  thai  abides 
for  ever  ;  in  comparison  of  which,  tiie  longest 
term  of  natural  life  is  less  than  a  moment,  j 
and  the  happiest  estate  of  it  but  a  heap  of 
miseries.    Were  all  of  us  more  constantly  I 
prosperous  than  any  one  of  us  is,  yet  that  one 
thing  were  enough  to  cry  down  the  price  we 
put  upc/n  this  life,  that  it  continues  not.  As 
he  answered  to  one  who  had  a  mind  to  flat- 
ter him  in  the  rnidst  of  a  pompous  triumph, 
by  saying,  What  is  wanting  here  ?  Continu- 
ance, said   he.    It  was  wisely  said  at  any  [ 
time,  but  wisest  of  all,  to  have  so  sober  a  [ 
thon.rlu  in  such  a  solenniiiy,  in  which  weak 
heads  can  not  escape  either  to  be  wholly  j 
drunk,  or  somewhat  giddy  at  least.    Surely  j 
We  fjrget  this,  when  we  stow  vain  upon  any 
human  glory  or  advantage;  the  color  of  it  i 
pleases  u^;,  and  we  forget  that  it  is  but  a  flow-  [ 
er,  and  foolishly  over-esteem  it.    This  is  like  ] 
hat  madness  upon  flowers,  which  is  some- 1 


where  prevalent,  where  they  will  give  as 
much  for  one  flower  as  would  buy  a  good 
dwelling-house.  Is  it  not  a  most  foolish  bar- 
gain, to  bestow  continual  pains  and  diligence 
upon  the  purchasnig  of  great  possessions  or 
honors,  if  we  believe  this,  that  the  best  of 
them  is  no  other  than  a  short-lived  flower, 
and  to  neglect  the  purchase  of  those  glorious 
mansions  of  eternity,  a  garland  of  such  flow 
ers  as  wither  not,  an  unfading  crown,  that 
everlasting  life,  and  those  everlasting  pleas- 
ures that  are  at  the  right  hand  of  God  ? 

Now,  that  life  which  sliall  never  end  must 
begin  here  ;  it  is  the  new  spiritual  life,  where- 
of the  word  of  God  is  the  immortal  seed  ;  and 
in  opposiiion  to  corruptible  seed  and  the  cor- 
ruptible life  of  flesh,  it  is  here  said  to  endure 
for  ever.  And  for  this  end  is  the  frailty  of 
natural  life  mentioned,  that  our  aflections  may 
be  drawn  off  from  it  to  this  spiritual  life, 
which  is  not  subject  unto  death. 

Ver.  25.  But  the  word  of  the  Lord  endureth  for  ever  ; 
and  this  i.s  the  word  which  by  the  gospei  is  preach- 
ed unto  you. 

The  word  of  God  is  so  like  himself,  and 
carries  so  plainly  the  image  and  imjjression 
of  his  power  and  wisdom,  that  where  they 
are  spoken  of  toirether,  it  is  sometimes 
doubtful  whether  the  expressions  are  to  be 
referred  to  himself  or  to  his  word  (as  lleb.  iv. 
12  ;  and  so  here):  but  there  is  no  hazard  in 
referring  them  either  way,  seeing  there  is 
truth  in  both,  and  jicrtinency  too  ;  for  they 
who  refer  them  to  God,  affirm  that  they  are 
intended  for  ihe  extollnig  of  his  word,  being 
the  subject  in  hand,  and  that  we  may  know 
it  to  be  like  him.  But  I  rather  think  here 
that  the  apostle  si)eaksof  the  word  ;  it  is  said 
to  be  ()uick  or  living  {::.,■)  in  the  fore-cited 
text,  as  well  as  in  the  passage  before  us  :  and 
the  phrase  ahulinir  for  ever,  is  expressly  re- 
peated of  it  here,  in  the  prophet's  words. 
And  (with  respect  to  those  learned  men  that 
a|)ply  them  to  (lod)  I  remember  not  that  this 
ahulins'  for  ever  is  used  to  express  God's  eter- 
nity in  himself.  Howsoever,  this  incorrupti- 
ble seed  is  the  living  and  everlasting  word 
of  the  living  and  everlasting  God,  and  is 
therefore  such,  because  he,  wliose  it  is,  is 
such. 

Now,  this  is  not  to  be  taken  in  an  abstract 
sense  of  the  word  only  in  its  nature,  but  as 
ihe  princi[)le  of  regeneration,  the  seed  of  this 
new  life  ;  because  the  word  is  enlivening  and 
living,  therefore  they  with  whom  it  is  eifectual, 
and  into  whose  hearts  it  is  received,  are  be- 
gotten again  and  made  alive  by  it  ;  and  be- 
cause the  Word  is  incorruptible,  and  eiulurelh 
for  ever,  therefore  that  life  begotten  by  it  is 
such  too,  can  not  perish  or  be  cm  down,  as 
the  natural  life  ;  no,  this  spiritual  life  of  irrace 
is  the  certiyn  t)en:inning  of  that  eternal  life  of 
glory,  and  shall  issue  in  it,  and  therefore 
hath  no  end. 


124 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  b 


As  the  word  of  God  in  itself  can  not  be 
abolished,  but  surpasses  the  permanence  of 
heaven  and  earih,  as  our  Savior  leaches; 
and  all  the  aitenipts  of  men  against  the  Di- 
vine truth  of  that  word  to  undo  it  are  as  vain 
as  if  they  should  consult  to  pluck  the  sun  out 
of  the  tirinament  ;  so,  likewise,  in  the  heart 
of  a  Christian,  it  is  immortal  and  incorrupti- 
ble. Where  it  is  once  received  by  faith,  it 
can  not  be  obliterated  again  :  all  the  powers 
of  darkness  can  not  destroy  it,  although  they 
be  never  so  diligent  in  their  attempts  that 
way.  And  this  is  the  comfort  of  the  saints,  | 
that  thou^'h  the  life,  which  God  by  his  word  I 
hath  breathed  into  their  souls,  have  many  and  | 
strong  enemies,  such  as  they  themselves  could 
never  hold  out  against,  yet  for  his  own  glory 
and  his  i)roiiiise  sake,  he  will  maintain  that 
life,  and  bring  it  to  its  perfection  ;  God  will 
perfect  that  which  concernelh  me,  saith  the 
psalmist,  Psal.  cxxxviii.  8.  It  is  grossly  con- 
trary to  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures  to  imagine 
that  they  who  are  thus  renewed  can  be  un- 
born again.  This  new  birth  is  but  once,  of 
one  kind  :  though  they  are  subject  to  frailties 
and  weaknesses  here  in  this  spiritual  life, 
yet  not  to  death  any  more,  nor  to  such  way 
of  sinning  as  would  extinguish  this  life. 
This  is  that  which  the  Apostle  John  says, 
He  that  is  ham  of  God  sinncth  not  ;  and  the  i 
reason  he  adds  is  the  same  that  is  here  given, 
the  permanence  and  incorruptibleness  of  this  j 
word,  The  seed  of  God  abideth  in  him.  John 
iii.  9. 

This  is  the  word  which  by  the  gospel  is  I 
preached  unto  yow.]  It  is  not  sufficient  to 
have  these  thoughts  of  the  word  of  God  in  a 
general  way,  and  not  to  know  what  that 
Word  is  ;  but  we  must  be  persuaded  that  that 
word  which  is  preached  to  us  is  this  very 
word  of  so  excellent  virtue,  and  of  which 
these  high  things  are  spoken  ;  that  it  is  incor- 
rvpttble  and  abideth  for  ever,  and  therefore 
surpasses  all  the  world,  and  all  the  excellen- 
cies  and  glory  of  it.  Although  delivered  by 
weak  men — the  apostles,  and  by  far  weaker 
than  they  in  the  constant  ministry  of  it — yet  ] 
it  loseih  none  of  its  own  virtue  ;  lor  that  de- ! 
pends  upon  the  first  Owner  and  author  of  it, 
the  everliving  GOD,  who  by  it  begets  his 
chosen  unto  life  eternal. 

This,  therefore,  is  that  which  we  should  learn 
thus  to  hear,  and  thus  to  receive,  esteem,  and 
love,  this  holy,  this  living  word  ;  to  despise 
all  the  glittering  vanities  of  this  perishing 
life,  all  outward  pomp,  yea,  all  inward  worth, 
all  wisdom  and  natural  endowments  of  mind, 
in  comparison  of  the  heavenly  light  of  the 
gospel  preached  unto  us :  rather  to  hazard 
all  than  lose  that,  and  banish  all  other  things 
from  the  place  that  is  due  to  it  ;  to  lodge  it 
alone  in  our  hearts,  as  our  only  treasure  here, 
and  the  certain  pledge  of  that  treasure  of 
elory  laid  up  for  us  in  heaven.  To  which 
blessed  state  may  God  of  his  infinite  mercy 
bring  us  !  Amen. 


CHAPTER  IT. 

Ver.  1.  Wherefore  laying  aside  all  malice  and 
guile,  and  liypocrisies,  and  envies,  and  all  evu 
speakings  ; 

Ver.  2.  As  newborn  babes,  desire  the  sincere  milk 
of  the  word,  that  ye  may  grow  thereby. 

The  same  power  and  goodness  of  God  that 
manifests  itself  in  giving  being  to  his  crea- 
tures, appears  likewise  in  sustaining  and  pre- 
serving  them.  To  give  being  is  the  first,  and 
to  support  it  is  the  continued  effect  of  that 
power  and  goodness.  Thus  it  is  both  in 
the  first  creation,  and  in  the  second.  In  the 
first,  the  creatures  to  which  he  gave  life,  he 
provided  with  convenient  nourishment  to  up- 
hold that  life  (Gen.  i.  11):  so  here,  in  the 
close  of  the  former  chapter,  we  find  the  doc- 
trine of  the  new  birth  and  life  of  a  Christian, 
and  in  the  beginning  of  Iiis,  the  proper  food 
of  that  life.  And  it  is  the  same  word  by 
which  we  there  find  il  to  be  begotten,  that  is 
here  the  nourishment  of  it ;  and  therefore 
Christians  are  here  e.xhorted  by  the  apostle 
so  to  esteem  and  so  to  use  it ;  and  that  is  the 
main  scope  of  the  words. 

Observe  in  general  :  The  word,  the  princi- 
ple, and  the  support  of  our  spiritual  being,  is 
both  tiie  incorruptible  seed  and  the  incorrup- 
tible food  of  that  new  life  of  grace,  which 
must  therefore  be  an  incorruptible  life  :  and 
this  may  convince  us,  that  the  ordinary 
thoughts,  even  of  us  who  hear  this  word,  are 
far  below  the  true  excellency  and  worth  of 
it.  The  stream  of  custom  and  our  profession 
bring  us  hither,  and  we  sit  out  our  hour  un- 
der the  sound  of  this  word  ;  but  how  few  con- 
sider and  prize  it  as  the  great  ordinance  of 
God  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  the  beginner 
and  the  sustaiiier  of  the  Divine  life  of  grace 
within  us!  And  certainly,  until  we  have 
these  thoughts  of  it,  and  seek  to  feel  it  thus 
ourselves,  although  we  hear  it  most  frequent- 
ly, and  let  slip  no  occasion,  yea,  hear  it  with 
attention,  and  some  present  delight,  yet  still 
we  miss  the  right  use  of  it,  and  turn  it  from 
its  true  end,  while  we  take  it  not  as  that  in- 
grafted word  which  is  able  to  save  our  souls. 
James  i.  21. 

Thus  ought  they  who  preach  to  speak  it : 
to  endeavor  their  utmost  to  accommodate  it 
to  this  end,  that  sinners  may  be  converted, 
begotten  again,  and  believers  nourished  and 
strengthened  in  their  spiritual  life;  to  regard 
no  lower  end,  but  aim  steadily  at  that  mark. 
Their  hearts  and  tongues  ought  to  be  set  on 
fire  with  holy  zeal  for  God  and  love  to  souls, 
kindled  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  came  down 
on  the  apostles  in  the  shape  of  fiery  tongues. 

And  those  that  hear  should  remember  this 
as  the  end  of  their  hearing,  that  they  may  re- 
ceive spiritual  life  and  strength  by  the  word. 
For  though  it  seems  a  poor  despicable  busi- 
ness, that  a  frail  sinful  man  like  yourselves 
should  speak  a  few  words  in  your  hearing, 
yet,  look  upon  it  as  the  way  wherein  God 


Vek.  I,  2.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


125 


communicates  happiness  to  those  who  be-  I 
lieve,  aud  worlvs  that  believing  unto  happi-  j 
ness,  alters  the  whole  frame  of  the  soul,  and  i 
makes  a  new  creation,  as  it  begets  it  again  j 
to  "he  inheritance  of  glory.   Consider  it  thus, 
wliich  is  its  true  notion  :  and  then  what  can  I 
be  so  precious?    Let  the  world  disesteem  it 
as  they  will,  know  ye,  that  it  is  the  poircr  of  j 
God  unto  salvation.    The  preaching  of  the  j 
cross  is  to  tliem  that  perish  foolishness  j  but  j 
unto  them  that  are  saved,  it  is  the  power  of  i 
[lod,  says  the  apostle,  1  Cor.  i.  18.    And  if  | 
fou  would  have  the  experience  of  this,  if  you  . 
would  have  life  and  growth  by  it,  you  must '' 
look  above  the  poor  worthless  messenger,  and 
call  in  His  almighty  help,  who  is  the  Lord  j 
of  life.    As  the  philosophers  affirm,  that  if 
the  heavens  should  stand  still,  there  would 
be  no  generation  or  flourishing  of  anything 
here  below,  so  it  is  the  moving  and  influence 
of  the  Spirit  that  makes  the  church  fruitful. 
Would  you  but  do  this  before  you  come  here, 
present  the  l)lindness  of  your  mind?  and  the 
deadness  of  your  hearts  to  God,  and  say, 
"  Lord,  here  is  an  opportunity  for  thee  to  { 
show  the  power  of  thy  word.    I  would  find  j 
life  and  strength  in  it  ;  but  neither  can  I  who 
hear,  nor  he  that  speaks,  make  it  thus  unto 
me:  '"^at  is  thy  prerogative;  say  thou  the 
word,  and  it  shall  be  done."    God  said  let 
there  be  light,  and  it  was  light.  1 

In  this  exhortation  to  the  due  use  of  the  ' 
Word,  the  apostle  continues  the  resemblance 
01  that  new  birth  he  mentioned  in  the  prece- 
ding chapter. 

As  newborn  babes.]  Be  not  satisfied  with 
yourselves,  till  you  find  some  evidence  of  this 
new,  this  supernatural  life.  There  be  de- 
lights and  comforts  in  this  life,  in  its  low- 
est condition,  that  would  persuade  us  to 
look  after  it,  if  we  knew  them  ;  but  as  the 
most  can  not  he  made  sensible  of  these, 
consider  therefore  the  end  of  it.  Better 
never  to  have  been  than  not  to  have  been 
partaker  of  this  new  being.  Except  a  man  be 
born  again,  says  our  Savior,  he  can  not  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God,  John  iii.  3.  Surely 
they  that  are  not  born  again,  shall  one  day 
wish  iiiey  had  never  been  born.  What  a 
poor  wretched  thing  is  the  life  that  we  have 
here!  a  very  heap  of  follies  and  miseries! 
Now  if  we  would  share  in  a  happier  being 
after  it,  in  that  life  which  ends  not,  it  must 
begin  here.  Grace  and  glory  are  one  and 
the  same  life,  only  with  this  difference,  that 
the  one  is  the  beginning,  and  the  other  the 
perfection  of  it ;  or,  if  we  do  call  them  two 
several  lives,  yet  the  one  is  the  undoubted 
pledge  of  the  other.  It  was  a  strange  word 
for  a  heathen  to  say,  that  that  day  of  death  i 
we  fear  so,  mterni  natalis  est,  is  the  birthday 
of  eterr.iti).  Thus  it  is  indeed  to  those  who 
are  here  horn  again  :  this  new  birth  of  grace 
is  the  sure  earnest  and  pledge  of  that  birthday 
of  glory.  Why  do  we  not  then  labor  to  make 
mis  certain  by  the  former  ?  Is  it  not  a  fear- 
ful thing  to  spend  our  days  in  vanity,  and  ; 


then  lie  down  in  darkness  and  sorrow  for 
ever  ;  to  disregard  the  life  of  our  soul,  while 
we  may  and  should  be  provident  for  it,  and 
then,  when  it  is  going  out,  cry,  "  Quu  nunc 
alibis  ?  Whither  art  thou  going,  0  my  soul?" 

But  this  new  life  puts  us  out  of  the  danger 
and  tear  of  that  eternal  death.  We  are  passed 
from  death  to  life,  says  St.  John,  1  John  iii. 
14,  speaking  of  those  who  are  born  again; 
and  being  passed,  there  is  no  repassing,  no 
going  back  from  this  life  to  death  again. 

This  new  birth  is  the  same  that  St.  John 
calls  the  first  resurrection,  and  he  pronounces 
them  blessed  who  partake  of  it:  Blessed  are 
they  that  have  part  in  the  first  resurrection  ; 
the  second  death  shall  have  no  power  over 
them.    Rev,  xx.  6. 

The  weak  beginnings  of  grace,  weak  in 
comparison  of  the  further  strength  attainable 
even  in  this  life,  are  sometimes  expressed  as 
the  infancy  of  it ;  and  so  believers  ought  not 
to  continue  iufanis  ;  if  they  do,  it  is  reprova- 
ble  in  them,  as  we  see,  Eph.  iv.  14,  1  Cor. 
ii.  2,  and  viv.  20,  Heb.  v.  12.  Though  the 
apostle  writes  to  new  converts,  and  so  may 
possibly  imply  the  tenderness  of  their  begin- 
nings of  grace,  yet  I  conceive  that  infancy  is 
here  to  be  taken  in  such  a  sense  as  agrees  to 
a  Christian  in  the  whole  course  and  best 
estate  of  his  spiritual  life  here  below.  So, 
likewise,  the  milk  here  recommended  is  an- 
swerable to  infancy,  taken  in  this  sense,  and 
not  in  the  former  (as  it  is  in  some  of  those 
cited  places  where  it  means  the  easiest  and 
first  principles  of  religion,  and  so  is  opposed 
to  the  higher  mysteries  of  it,  as  to  strong 
meat) ;  but  here  it  signifies  the  whole  word 
of  God,  and  all  its  wholesome  and  saving 
truths,  as  the  proper  nourishment  of  the  chil- 
dren of  God.  And  so  the  apostle's  words  are 
a  standing  exhortation  for  all  Christians  of 
all  degrees. 

And  the  whole  estate  and  course  of  their 
spiritual  life  here  is  called  their  infancy,  not 
only  as  opposed  to  the  corruption  and  wick- 
edness of  the  old  man,  but  likewise  as  signi- 
fying the  weakness  and  imperfection  of  it,  at 
its  best  in  this  life,  compared  with  the  per- 
fection of  the  life  tocoiiK.';  fir  the  weakest 
beginnings  of  grace  are  bv  no  means  so  far 
below  the  highest  degree  of  it  possible  in  this 
life,  as  that  highest  degree  falls  short  of  the 
state  of  glory  ;  so  that,  if  one  measure  of 
grace  is  called  infancy  in  respect  of  another, 
much  more  is  all  grace  infancy  in  respect  of 
glory.  And  surely,  as  for  duration,  the  time 
of  our  present  life  is  far  less  compared  to 
eternity,  than  the  time  of  our  natural  infancy 
is  to  the  rest  of  our  life ;  so  that  we  may  be 
still  called  but  new  or  lately  born.  Our  best 
pace  and  strongest  walking  in  obedience  here 
is  but  as  the  stepping  of  children  when  they 
begin  to  go  by  hold,  in  comjiarison  of  the 
perfect  obedience  in  glory,  when  wc  shall 
follow  the  Lamb  wheresoever  he  goes.  All 
our  knowledge  here  is  but  as  the  ignorance 
of  infants,  and  all  our  expressions  of  God  and 


126 


A  COMMEMTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  ll 


of  his  praises  but  as  the  first  stammerings  of 
rliiUlren,  in  comparison  of  the  kiiowieilge  we 
shall  have  of  him  hereafter,  when  ire  shn/l 
Know  as  ue  arc  krunvn,  and  of  the  praises  we 
shall  tiien  offer  him,  when  that  new  song 
shall  he  taught  us.  Aeiiild  haiii  in  it  a  rea- 
sonable seail,  anil  yci,  hy  the  indisposedness 
of  the  Ijody,  and  abundance  of  moisture,  ii  is 
so  bound  up,  that  its  difference  from  the 
Deasts  in  partaking  of  a  rational  lil'e  is  not  sii 
apparent  as  afierw^ard  ;  and  thus  the  spir- 
iiual  life  is  that  from  above  infused  into  a 
Christian,  tliough  it  doth  act  and  work  in 
some  degree,  yet  it  is  so  clogged  with  the 
natural  corruption  still  remaining  in  him, 
that  the  excellency  of  it  is  much  clouded  and 
obscured  ;  but  in  the  life  to  come,  it  shall 
have  nothing  at  all  incumbering  and  indis- 
posing it.  And  this  is  the  Apostle  St.  Paul's 
doctrine,  1  Cor.  xiii.  9-12. 

And  this  is  the  wonder  of  divine  grace,  that 
brings  so  small  beginnings  to  that  height  of 
perfection  that  we  are  not  able  to  conceive 
of;  that  a  little  spark  of  true  grace,  which  is 
not  only  indiscernible  to  others,  but  often  to 
the  Christian  himself,  should  yet  be  the  be- 
ginning of  that  condition  wherein  they  shall 
shine  brighter  than  the  sun  in  the  firmam>'ni. 
The  dilference  is  great  in  our  natural  life,  in 
sfiine  persons  especially  ;  that  they  who  in 
infancy  were  so  feeble,  and  wrapped  up  as 
others  in  swaddling  clothes,  yet  afterward 
come  to  excel  in  wisdom  and  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  sciences,  or  to  be  commanders  of 
great  armies,  or  to  be  kings  ;  but  the  distance 
is  far  greater  and  more  admirable  between 
the  weakness  of  these  neu-born  babes,  the 
small  beginnings  of  grace,  and  our  after- 
perfection,  that  fulness  of  knowledire  that 
we  look  for,  and  that  crown  of  immortal- 
ity which  all  they  are  born  to  who  are  born 
of  God. 

But  as  in  the  faces  or  actions  of  children, 
characters  and  presages  of  their  after-great- 
ness have  appeared  (as  a  singular  beauty  in 
Moses's  face,  as  they  write  of  him,  and  as 
Cyrus  was  made  king  among  the  shepherd's 
children  with  whom  he  was  brought  up, 
&c.),  so  also,  certainly,  in  these  children  of 
God,  there  be  some  characters  and  evidences 
that  they  are  burn  for  heaven  by  their  new 
birth.  That  holiness  and  meekness,  that  pa- 
tience and  faith,  which  shine  in  the  actions 
and  sufferings  of  the  saints,  are  characters  of 
their  fatlier's  image,  and  show  their  high 
original,  and  foretell  their  glory  to  come: 
such  a  glory  as  doth  not  only  surpass  the 
world's  thoughts,  but  the  thoughts  of  the 
children  of  God  themselves.    1  John  iii.  2. 

Now  that  the  children  of  God  may  grow 
by  the  word  of  God,  the  apostle  requires 
these  two  things  of  them  :  1.  The  innocency 
of  children ;  2.  The  appetite  of  children. 
For  this  expression,  as  I  conceive,  is  relative 
not  only  to  the  desiring  of  the  milk  of  the 
word,  ver.  2,  but  to  the  former  verse,  the 
vuttivg  off  malice.    So,  the  Apostle  Paul  ex- 


horts, I  Cor.  xiv.  20,  As  connrntng  malice 
be  ye  children. 

Wherefore  lat/ing  aside.']  This  imports 
that  we  are  naturally  prepossessed  with  tiiesfl 
evils,  and  therefore  we  are  exhorted  to  put 
them  off.  Our  hearts  are  by  nature  no  other 
than  cages  of  those  unclean  birds,  malice, 
envy,  hypocrisy,  &:c.  The  apostle  someiimes 
names  some  of  these  evils,  and  sometimes 
others  of  them,  but  they  are  inse]iarable,  all 
one  garment,  and  all  comprehcndeil  under  that 
one  word,  Eph.  iv.  22,  the  old  man,  which 
the  apostle  there  exhorts  Christians  to  pu' 
off;  and  here  it  is  pressed  as  a  necessary  evi- 
dence of  their  new  birth,  as  w^ell  as  for  the 
furtherance  of  their  spiritual  growth,  that 
these  base  habits  be  thrown  away  ;  ragged, 
filthy  habits,  unl)eseeming  the  children  of 
God.  They  are  the  proper  marks  of  an  unre- 
newed mind,  the  very  characters  of  the  chil- 
dren ol'  Satan,  for  they  constitute  his  image, 
j  He  hath  his  names  from  enmity,  and  envy, 
and  slandering;  and  he  is  that  grand  hypo- 
crite and  deceiver,  who  can  transform  him- 
self into  an  angel  of  li^ht.    2  Cor.  xi.  14. 

So,  on  the  contrary,  the  Spirit  of  God  that 
dwells  in  his  children  is  the  spirit  of  meek- 
ness, and  love,  and  truth.  That  dovelike 
spirit  which  descended  on  our  Savior,  is  from 
him  communicated  to  believers.  It  is  the 
grossest  impudence  to  pretend  to  be  Chris- 
j  tians,  and  yet  to  entertain  hatred  and  envy- 
ings  upon  whatsoever  occasion  ;  for  there  is 
,  nothing  more  frequently  recommended  to 
them  by  our  Savior's  own  doctrine,  nothing 
more  impressed  upon  their  heans  by  his 
Spirit,  than  love.  Ka-m  may  be  taken  gene- 
rally, but  I  conceive  it  intends  that  which 
we  particularly  call  malice. 

Malice  and  envy  are  but  two  branches 
growing  ont  of  the  same  bitter  root;  self-love 
and  evil  speakings  are  the  fruit  they  bear. 
Malice  is  properly  the  procuring  or  wish- 
ing another's  evil — envy  the  reiiining  at  his 
'  good  ;  and  both  these  vent  themselves  by  evil 
j  speaking.    This  infernal  fire  within  smokes 
[  and  flashes  out  by  the  tongue,  which,  St. 
j  James  says,  is  set  on  fire  of  hell  (iii.  0),  and 
;  fires  all  about  it ;  censuring  the  actions  of 
'  those  they  hate  or  envy,  aggravating  theii 
failings,  and  detracting  from  their  virtues, 
,  taking  all  things  by  the  left  ear  ;  for  (as  Epic- 
tetus  says)  everything  hath  two  handles.  The 
!  art  of  taking  things  by  the  better  side,  which 
:  charity  always  doth,  would  save  much  of 
j  those  janglings  and  heart-burnings  that  so 
abound  in  the  world.   But  folly  and  pcrverse- 
ness  possess  the  hearts  of  the  most,  and  there- 
fore their  discourses  are  usually  the  vent  of 
these  ;  For  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart 
the  mouth  must  speak.    Matt.  xii.  34.  The 
unsavory  breaths  of  men  argue  their  inward 
corruption.    Where  shall  a  man  come,  al- 
most, in  societies,  but  his  ears  shall  be  beaten 
with  the  unpleasant  noise  (surely  it  is  so  to  ti 
Christian  mind)  of  one  detracting  and  dispar- 
aging another?    And  yet  this  is  extreme 


Ver.  1,  2.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


127 


baseness,  and  the  practice  only  of  false  coun- 
terfeit goodness,  to  make  up  one's  own  reputa- 
tion out  of  the  ruins  of  the  good  name  of  oth- 
ers. Real  v/rtue  neither  needs  nor  can  endure 
this  dishonest  shift  ;  it  can  subsist  of  itself, 
and  therefore  ingenuously  commends  and  ac- 
knowledges what  good  exists  in  others,  and 
loves  to  hear  it  acknowledged;  and  neither 
readily  speaks  nor  hears  evil  of  any,  but 
rather,  where  duty  and  conscience  require 
not  discovery,  casts  a  veil  upon  men's  fail- 
ings to  hide  them :  this  is  the  true  temper  of 
the  children  of  God. 

These  evils  of  malice,  and  envy,  and  evil 
speakings,  and  such  like,  are  njt  to  be  dissem- 
bled by  us,  in  ourselves,  and  conveyed  under 
Detter  appearances,  but  to  be  cast  away  ;  not 
to  be  covered,  but  put  ofl ;  and  therefore  that 
which  is  the  upper  garment  and  cloak  of  all 
other  evils,  the  apostle  here  commands  us  to 
cast  that  off  too,  namely,  hypocrisy. 

What  avails  it  to  wear  tbis  mask  ?  A  man 
may  indeed  in  the  sight  of  men  act  his  part 
handsomely  under  it,  and  pass  so  for  a  time  ; 
but  know  we  not  that  there  is  an  eye  that 
sees  through  it,  and  a  hand  that,  if  we  will 
not  put  ofl"  this  mask,  will  pull  it  off  to  our 
shame,  either  here  in  the  sight  of  men,  or,  if 
we  should  escape  all  our  life,  and  go  fair  off 
the  stage  under  it,  yet  thai  there  is  a  day 
appointed  wherein  all  hypocrites  shall  be  un- 
veiled, and  appear  what  tbcy  are  indeed  be- 
fore men  and  anuels  ?  It  is  a  poor  thing  to 
be  approved  and  applauded  by  men,  while 
God  condemns,  to  whose  sentence  all  men 
must  siand  or  fall.  Oh!  seek  to  be  ajjproved 
and  justified  by  him,  and  then  whn  shall  cnn- 
demn  ?  Rom.  viii.  34.  It  is  no  matter  who 
do.  How  easily  may  we  bear  the  mistakes 
and  dislikes  of  all  the  world,  if  he  declare 
himself  well  pleased  with  us  !  It  is  a  small 
thing  for  me  to  be  judged  of  man,  or  mart's 
day:  he  thai  judgcth  me  is  the  Lord,  saith 
the  apostle,  1  Cor.  iv.  3. 

But  these  evils  are  here  particularly  to  be 
put  off,  as  contrary  to  the  right  and  i)r(jfitable 
receiving  of  the  word  of  God  ;  for  this  [lart 
of  the  exhortation  (laying aside)  looks  to  ihat 
which  follows  {desire,  (Sfc),  and  is  specially 
so  to  be  considered. 

There  is  this  double  task  in  religion  :  when 
a  man  enters  upon  it,  he  is  not  only  to  be 
taught  true  wisdom,  but  he  is  witlial,  yea, 
first  of  all,  to  be  untaught  the  errors  and 
wickedness  that  are  deep-rooted  in  his  mind, 
which  he  hath  not  only  leamed  by  the  cor- 
rupt conversaiion  of  the  world,  but  brought 
the  seeds  of  them  into  the  world  with  him. 
They  do  indeed  irriprf)ve  and  grow  by  the 
favor  of  that  example  that  is  round  abcjut  a 
man,  but  they  are  originally  in  our  nature 
as.  it  IS  now;  they  are  connatural  to  us,  be- 
sides being  strengthened  by  continual  custom, 
which  is  another  nature.  There  is  no  one 
conies  to  the  s<!|h)o1  of  Christ  suiting  the  phi- 
losopher's word,  7/t  lahula  rasa,  as  blank  pa- 
per to  receive  his  doctrine  ;  but,  on  the  con- 


trary, all  scribbled  and  blurred  with  such 
base  habits  as  these,  malice,  hypocrisy,  envy, 
&c. 

Therefore,  the  first  work  is,  to  raze  out 
these,  to  cleanse  and  purify  the  heart  from 

i  these  blots,  these  foul  characters,  that  it  may 

[  receive  the  impression  of  the  image  of  God. 

i  And  because  it  is  the  word  of  God  that  both 
begins  and  advances  tliis  work,  and  perfects 

j  the  lineaments  of  that  divine  image  on  the 
soul,  therefore,  to  the  receiving  of  this  word 

I  aright,  and  to  this  proper  effect  by  means  of 
it,  the  conftirming  of  the  soul  to  Jesus  Christ, 
which  is  the  true  growth  of  the  spiritual  life, 

j  this  is  pre-required,  that  the  hearts  of  those 
who  hear  it  be  purged  of  these  and  such  like 

i  impurities. 

These  dispositions  are  so  opposite  to  the 
profitable  receiving  of  the  word  of  God,  that 
while  they  possess  and  rule  the  soul,  it  can 
not  at  all  embrace  these  divine  truths  ;  while 
it  is  filled  with  such  guests,  there  is  no  room 
to  entertain  the  word. 

They  can  not  dwell  toirether,  by  reason  of 
their  contrary  nature  :  the  word  will  not  mix 
with  these.  The  saving  mixture  of  the  word 
of  God  in  the  soul  is  what  the  apostle  speaks 
of,  and  he  assigns  the  want  of  it  as  the  cause 
of  unprofitable  hearing  of  the  word,  Heb.  iv 
2,  not  mixing  of  it  with  faith.  For  by  that 
the  word  is  concocted  into  the  nourishment  of 
the  life  of  grace,  united  to  the  soul,  and  mixed 
with  it,  by  being  mixed  with  faith,  as  the 
apostle's  expression  imports:  that  is  the  prop- 
er mixture  it  requires.  liut  with  the  quali- 
ties here  mentioned  it  will  not  mix  :  there  is  a 
natural  antipathy  betwixt  them,  as  strong  as 
in  those  things  in  naiure,  that  can  not  be 
brought  by  any  means  to  agree  and  mingle 
together. 

Can  there  be  anything  more  contrary  than 
the  good  word  of  God,  as  the  apostle  call  it, 
and  those  evil  speakings  ?  than  the  word  that 
is  of  such  excellent  sweetness  and  the  bitter 
words  of  a  malignant  tongue?  than  tlie  word 
of  life  and  words  fill  of  deadly  poison  ?  For 
so  slanders  and  defamings  of  our  brethren  are 
termed.  And  is  not  all  /««/?ce  and  envy\nos\ 
opposite  to  the  word,  that  is  the  message  of 
peace  and  love  ?  How  can  the  KfiH  malice 
and  this  rnilk  of  the  word  agree  ?  Hypocrisy 
and  guile  stand  in  direct  opixisition  to  ihename 
of  this  word,  which  is  called  tlie  word  of  truth; 
and  here  the  very  words  show  this  contrariety, 
sincere  milk,  and  a  double,  nnsincere  mind. 

These  two  are  necessary  conditions  of  <rood 
nourishment :  \st,  7"hat  the  food  be  good  and 
wholesome  ;  2dly,  That  the  inward  constitu- 
tion of  them  who  use  it  be  so  too.  And  if 
this  fail,  the  other  profits  not.  This  sincere 
milk  is  the  only  proper  nourisliment  of  spiiit- 
ual  life,  and  there  is  no  defector  undue  (juali- 
ty  in  it;  but  the  greatest  part  of  hearers  are 
inwardly  unwholesome, iliseased  with  the  evils 
here  mentioned,  and  others  of  the  like  naiure  ; 
and  therefore,  either  have  no  kind  ol  a()petite 
to  the  word  at  all,  but  ratiier  feed  upon  such 


128 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  j 


trash  ns  suits  with  their  distemper  (as  some 
kind  (if  diseiscs  iiicline  those  that  have  them 
to  eat  coals  or  lime,  &:c.),  or,  if  they  he  any- 
wise desirous  to  hear  the  word,  and  seem  to 
feed  on  it,  yet  tiie  noxious  humors  iliat  ahound 
in  them,  make  it  alto^-etiier  unprofitahie,  and 
thev  are  not'  nourished  hy  it.  This  evil  of 
malice  and  envyiutf,  so  ordinary  amonrr  men 
(and,  which  is  most  siran§-e,  amonir  Chris- 
tians), lilie  an  overflowing  of  the  ^iiW,  pos- 
sesses their  whole  minds  :  so  that  they  not 
only  fail  of  being  nourished  by  the  word  they 
hear,  but  are  made  the  worse  by  it ;  their 
disease  is  fed  by  it,  as  an  unwholesome  stom- 
ach turns  the  best  meat  it  receives  into  that 
humor  that  abounds  in  it.  Do  not  they  thus, 
who  observe  what  the  word  says,  that  they 
may  be  the  better  enabled  to  discover  tlie 
failings  of  others,  and  speak  maliciously  and 
Uncharitably  of  them,  and  vent  themselves, 
as  is  too  common  ?  This  word  mel  xorll  with 
such  a  one's  fault,  and  /his  with  annlhers  :  — 
Is  not  this  to  feed  these  diseases  of  malice., 
envy,  and  evil  speakings,  with  this  pure  milk, 
and  make  them  grow,  instead  of  growing  by 
ij  ourselves  in  ifrace  and  holiness? 

Thus,  likewise,  the  hypocrite  turns  all  that 
he  hears  of  this  word,  not  to  the  inward  ren- 
ovation of  his  mind,  and  redressing  what  is 
amiss  there,  but  only  to  the  composing  of  his 
outward  carriage,  and  to  enable  himself  to 
act  his  part  better  :  to  be  cunninger  in  his  own 
faculty,  a  more  refined  and  expert  hypocrite  ; 
not  to  grow  more  a  Chirstian  indeed,  but  more 
such  in  appearance  only,  and  in  the  opinion 
of  others. 

Therefore  it  is  a  very  needful  advertisement, 
seeing  these  evils  are  so  natural  to  men,  and 
so  contrary  to  the  nature  of  the  word  of  God, 
thai  they  be  purged  out,  to  the  end  it  may  be 
profitably  received.  A  very  like  exhortation 
to  this  hath  the  apostle  St.  .Tames,  and  some 
of  the  same  words,  but  in  another  metaphor  : 
Jam.  i.  21,  Whercfure  lay  apart  all filthiness, 
and  superfluity  of  nmi ghtiness,  and  receive 
with  meekness  tke  ingrafted  word.  He  com- 
pares the  word  to  a  plant  of  excellent  virtue, 
the  very  tree  of  life,  the  word  that  is  able  to 
save  your  souls  ;  but  the  only  soil  wherein  it 
will  grow  is  a  heart  full  of  meekness,  a  heart 
that  is  purged  of  those  luxuriant  weeds  that 
grow  so  rank  in  it  by  nature ;  they  must  be 
plucked  up  and  thrown  out  to  make  place  for 
this  word. 

And  there  is  such  a  necessity  for  this,  that 
the  most  a])proved  teachers  of  wisdom,  in  a 
human  way,  have  required  of  their  scholars 
that,  to  the  end  their  minds  might  be  capable 
of  it,  they  should  be  purified  from  vice  and 
wickedness.  For  this  reason,  the  philosopher 
judges  young  men  unfit  hearers  of  moral 
philosophy,  because  of  the  abounding  and 
untamedness  of  their  passions,  granting  that, 
if  those  were  composed  and  ordered,  they 
might  be  admitted.  And  it  was  Socrates' 
custom,  when  any  one  asked  him  a  question, 
seeking  to  be  informed  by  him,  before  he 


would  answer  them,  he  asked  them  concern 
ing  their  own  qualities  and  course  of  life. 

Now,  if  men  recjuire  a  calm  and  purifieo 
disposition  of  mind  to  make  it  cajiable  of  thci' 
doctrine,  how  much  more  is  it  suitable  and 
necessary  for  learning  the  doctrine  of  God, 
and  those  deej)  mysteries  that  his  word  opens 
up  !  It  is  well  exjiressed  in  that  apocryphal 
book  of  Wisdom,  iliat  Froward  thoughts  sepa- 
rate  from  God,  'and  wisdom  enters  not  into  a 
malicious  soul :  no,  indeed,  that  is  a  very  un- 
fit dwelling  for  it ;  and  even  a  heathen 
(Seneca)  could  say,  The  mind  that  is  impure 
IS  not  capable  of  God  and  divine  thitigs. 
Therefore  we  see  the  strain  of  that  book  of 
Proverbs  that  speaks  so  much  of  this  wisdom  ; 
it  requires,  in  the  first  chapter,  thai  they  who 
would  hear  it  do  retire  themselves  from  all 
ungodly  customs  and  practices.  And,  indeed, 
how  can  the  soul  apprehend  spiritual  things, 
that  is  not  in  some  measure  refined  from  the 
love  of  sin,  which  abuses  and  beniires  the 
minds  of  men,  and  makes  them  unable  to 
arise  to  heavenly  thoughts?  Blessed  are  the 
pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  shall  see  God, 
says  our  Savior  (Mait.  v.  8) :  not  only  shall 
see  him  perfectly  hereafter,  but  so  far  as  they 
can  receive  him,  he  will  impart  and  make 
himself  known  unto  them  here.  If  any  man 
love  mc,  he  will  keep  my  words,  and  my  Father 
Will  love  htm,  and  %ve  will  come  unto  him,  and 
make  our  abode  with  him.  (John  xiv.  2.3.) 
What  makes  the  word  obscure  is  the  filthy 
mists  within  ;  whereas,  on  the  contrary,  he 
will  in  just  judgment  hide  himself,  and  the 
saving  truth  of  his  word,  from  those  that  en- 
tertain and  delight  in  sin:  the  very  sins 
wherein  they  delight  shall  obscure  and  dark- 
en the  light  of  the  gospel  to  them,  so  that 
though  it  shine  clear  as  the  sun  at  noonday, 
they  shall  be  as  those  that  live  in  a  dungeon, 
they  shall  not  discern  it. 

And  as  they  receive  no  benefit  by  the  word, 
who  have  the  evils  here  mentioned  reigning 
and  in  full  strength  within  them,  so  they  thj't 
are  indeed  born  again,  the  more  they  retam 
of  these  the  less  shall  they  find  the  influence 
and  profit  of  the  word;  for  this  exhortation 
concerns  them.  They  may  jiossihly  some  of 
them  have  a  great  remainder  of  these  cor- 
ruptions unmortificd  ;  therefore  are  they  ex- 
horted to  lay  aside  entirely  those  evils,  all 
malice,  all  hypocrisy,  &c.,  else,  though  they 
hear  the  word  often,  yet  they  Avill  be  in  a 
spiritual  atrophy  ;  they  will  eat  much,  but 
grow  nothing  by  it  ;  they  will  find  no  in- 
crease of  grace  and  spiritual  strength. 

Would  we  know  the  main  cause  of  our 
fruitless  hearing  of  the  word,  here  it  is: 
men  bring  not  meek  and  guileless  spirits  to 
it,  not  minds  emptied  and  purified  to  receive 
it,  but  stuffed  with  malice,  and  hypocrisy, 
and  pride,  and  other  such  evils  ;  and  where 
should  the  word  enter,  when  all  is  so  taken 
up  ?  And  if  it  did  enter,  how  should  it  pros- 
per among  so  many  enemies,  or  at  all  abide 
among  them  ?    Either  they  will  turn  it  out 


Ver.  1,  2.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


129 


again,  or  choke  and  kill  the  power  of  it. 
We  think  religion  and  our  own  lusts  and  se- 
cret heart-idols  should  agree  together,  be- 
cause we  would  have  it  so  ;  but  this  is  not 
possible.  Therefore  labor  to  entertain  the 
word  of  truth  in  the  love  of  it,  and  lodge  the 
mystery  of  faith  m  a  pure  conscience,  as  the 
A.postle  St.  Paul  speaks  (I  Tim.  iii.  9).  Join 
those  together  with  David  (Psal.  cxix.  113), 
/  hate  vain  thoughts,  but  thy  law  do  I  lore. 
And  as  here  our  apostle.  Lay  aside  all  malice, 
and  hypocrisy,  and  envy,  and  evil  speakings,  , 
and  so  receive  the  word,  or  else  look  for  no  j 
benefit  by  it  here,  nor  for  salvation  by  it 
hereafter  ;  bnt  be  prevailed  upon  to  cast  out 
all  impurity,  and  give  your  whole  heart  to 
it ;  so  desire  it,  that  you  may  grow,  and  then, 
as  you  desire,  you  shall  grow  by  it. 

Every  real  oeliever  hath  received  a  life 
from  heaven,  far  more  excelling  our  natural 
life  than  that  excels  the  life  of  the  beasts. 
And  this  life  hath  its  own  peculiar  desires 
and  delights,  which  are  the  proper  actings,  I 
and  the  certain  characters  and  evidence  of  it:  j 
among  others  this  is  one,  and  a  main  one, 
answerable  to  the  like  desire  in  natural  life, 
namely,  a  desire  of  food  ;  and  because  it  is 
here  still  imperfect,  therefore  the  natural  end  ' 
of  this  is  not  only  nourishment,  but  growth, 
as  it  is  here  expressed.  ! 

The  sincere  milk  of  the  u'orrf.]  The  life 
of  grace  is  the  proper  life  of  a  reasonable  [ 
soul,  and  without  it,  the  soul  is  dead,  as  the  [ 
body  is  without  the  soul;  so  that  this  may' 
be  truly  rendered  reasonable  milk,  as  some  ' 
read  it ;  but  certainly,  that  reasonable  milk  ' 
is  the  word  of  God,  the.  milk  of  the  word. 

It  was  before  called  the  immortal  seed, 
and  here  it  is  the  milk  of  those  that  are  born 
again,  and  thus  it  is  nourishment  very  agree- 
able to  that  spiritual  life  according  to  their 
saying,  lisdem  altmur  ex  (piibus  constamus, 
we  are  nourished  by  that  of  which  we  con- 
sist. As  the  milk  that  infants  draw  from  the 
breast,  is  the  most  connatural  food  to  them, 
being  of  that  same  substance  that  nourish- 
ed them  in  the  womb  ;  so,  when  they  are 
brought  forth,  that  food  follows  them  as  it 
were  for  their  supply,  in  the  way  that  is  pro- 
vided in  nature  for  it ;  by  certain  veins  it  as- 
cends into  the  breasts,  and  is  there  fitted  for 
them,  and  they  are  by  nature  directed  to  find 
it  there.  Thus,  as  a  Christian  begins  to  live 
by  the  power  of  the  word,  so  he  is  by  the  na- 
ture of  that  spiritual  life  directed  to  that  same 
word  as  its  nourishment.  To  follow  the  re- 
semblance further  in  the  qualities  of  milk, 
after  the  monkish  way,  that  runs  itself  out 
of  breath  in  allegory,  I  conceive  is  neither 
Bolid  nor  profitable  :  and  to  speak  freely,  the 
curious  searching  of  the  sirniHtude  in  other 
qualities  of  milk  seems  to  wrong  the  quality 
here  given  it  by  the  apostle,  in  whicii  it  is 
so  well  resembled  by  milk,  namely,  the  sim- 
ple pureness  and  sincerity  of  the  word  ;  be- 
sides that  the  pressing  of  comparisons  of  this 
kiad  too  far,  proves  often  so  constrained  ere 
17 


they  have  done  with  it,  that  by  too  much 
drawing  they  bring  forth  blood  instead  of 
milk. 

Pure  and  unmixed,  as  milk  drawn  imme. 
diately  from  the  breast;  the  pure  word  of 
God  without  the  mixture,  not  only  of  error, 
but  of  all  other  composition  of  vain  unprofit- 
able subtleties,  or  affected  human  eloquence, 
such  as  become  not  the  majesty  and  gravity 
of  God's  word.  If  any  man  speak,  says  our 
apostle  (chap.  iv.  11),  let  him  speak  as  the 
oracles  of  God.  Light  conceits  and  flowers 
of  rhetoric  wrong  the  word  more  than  they 
can  please  the  hearers;  the  weeds  among  the 
corn  make  it  look  gay,  but  it  were  all  the  bet- 
ter they  were  not  among  it.  Nor  can  those 
mixtures  be  pleasing  to  any  but  carnal  minds. 
They  who  are  indeed  the  children  of  God, 
as  infants  who  like  their  breast-milk  best 
pure,  do  love  the  word  best  so,  and  whereso- 
ever they  find  it  so,  they  relish  it  well  ; 
whereas  natural  men  can  not  love  spiritual 
things  for  themselves,  desire  not  the  word 
for  its  own  sweetness,  but  would  have  it 
sauced  with  such  conceits  as  possibly  spoil 
the  simplicity  of  it ;  or  at  the  best,  love  to 
hear  ii  for  the  wit  and  learning  which,  with- 
out any  wrongful  mixture  of  it,  they  find  in 
one  person's  delivering  it  more  than  anoth- 
er's. But  the  natural  and  genuine  appetije 
of  the  children  of  God  is  to  the  word  for  it- 
self, and  onlv  as  milk,  sincere  milk;  and 
where  they  find  it  so,  from  whomsoever  or 
in  what  way  soever  delivered  unto  them,, 
they  feed  upon  it  with  delight.  Before  con- 
version, wit  or  eloquence  may  draw  a  man, 
to  the  word,  and  possibly  prove  a  happy  bait 
to  catch  him  (as  St.  Augustine  reports  of  his 
hearing  St.  Ambrose),  but  when  once  he  is 
born  again,  then  it  is  the  milk  itself  that  he 
desires  for  itself 

Desire  the  sincere  milk-]  Not  only  hear  it 
because  it  is  your  custom,  but  desire  it  because 
it  is  your  food.  And  it  is,  1.  A  natural  desire  as 
the  infant's  desire  of  milk  ;  not  upon  any  ex- 
ternal rcsix'ct  or  inducement,  but  from  an  in- 
ward principle  and  bent  of  nature.  And  be- 
cause natural,  therefore,  2.  Earnest;  not  a 
cold  indifferent  willing,  that  cares  not  wheth- 
er it  obtain  or  not,  but  a  vehement  desire, 
as  the  word  signifies,  and  as  the  resemblance 
clearly  bears  :  as  a  child  that  will  not  be 
stilled  till  it  have  the  breast  :  offer  it  what 
you  will,  silver,  gold,  or  jewels,  it  regards 
them  not,  these  answer  not  its  desire,  and 
that  must  be  answered.  Thus  David  (Psal. 
cxix.  20),  My  soul  breakcth  for  the  longing 
it  hath  to  thy  judgments  ;  as  a  child  like  to 
break  its  heart  with  crying  for  want  of  the 
breast.  And  again,  because  natural,  it  is,  3. 
Constant.  The  infant  is  not  cloyed  nor  wea- 
ried with  daily  feeding  on  the  breast,  but  de- 
sires it  every  day,  as  if  it  had  never  had  it 
before :  so  the  child  of  God  hath  an  un- 
changeable appetite  for  the  word  ;  it  is  daily 
new  to  him  ;  he  finds  still  fresh  delight  in  it. 
Thus  David,  as  before  cited.  My  soul  break' 


30 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LChap.  II. 


eth  for  the  longing  it  h  it/i  for  thy  judtrments 
at  all  tiiiiex.  And  then,  Psal.  i.,  this  law  was 
his  meditation  dat/  niid  iiiiiht.    Whereas,  a  j 
natural  man  is  easily  surfeiiid  of  it,  and  the 
very  conunouness  and  cheapness  of  it  makes 
it  contemptible  to  him.  And  this  is  our  case  ;l 
that  wherein  we  should  wonder  at  God's  sin-  j 
gular  goodness  to  us,  and  therefore  prize  his 
word  the  more,  that  very  thing  makes  us  j 
despise  it:  while  others,  our  brethren,  have  i 
bought  this  milk  with  their  own  blood,  we 
have  it  upon  the  easiest  terms  that  can  be 
wished,  only  for  the  desiring,  without  the  i 
tiazard  oi  bleeding  for  it,  and  scarcely  need 
we  be  at  the  pains  of  sweating  for  it. 

That  ye  may  grow  therein/.]  This  is  not 
only  the  end  for  which  God  hath  provided 
his  children  with  the  word,  and  moves  them 
to  desire  it,  but  that  which  they  are  to  in- 
tend in  their  desire  and  use  of  it ;  and,  an- 
swerable to  God's  purpose,  they  are  there- 
fore to  desire  it,  because  it  is  j)roper  I'or  this 
end,  and  that  by  it  they  may  attain  this  end, 
to  grow  therehy.  And  herein,  indeed,  these 
children  differ  from  infants  in  the  natural  life, 
who  are  directed  to  their  food  beside  their 
knowledge,  and  without  intention  of  its  end  ; 
but  this  rational  rmlk  is  to  be  desiied  by  the 
children  of  God  in  a  rational  way,  knowing 
and  intending  its  end,  having  the  use  of  nat- 
ural reason  renewed  and  sanctified  by  super- 1 
natural  grace. 

Now  fhe  end  of  this  desire  is,  growth.  De- 
sire the  word,  not  that  you  may  only  hear  it ; 
that  is  to  fall  very  far  short  ol  its  true  end  ; 
yea,  it  is  to  take  the  befirinning  of  the  work 
for  the  end  of  it.  The  ear  is  indeed  the  mouth 
of  the  mind,  by  ■which  it  receives  the  word 
(as  Elihu  compares  it,  Job  xxxi  v.  2),  but  meat 
that  goes  no  further  than  the  mouth,  you 
know  can  not  nourish.  Neither  ought  this 
desire  of  the  word  to  be,  only  to  satisfy  a  cus- 
tom ;  it  were  an  exceeding  folly  to  make  so 
superficial  a  thing  the  end  of  so  serious  a 
work.  Again,  to  hear  it  only  to  stop  the 
mouth  of  conscience,  that  it  may  not  clamor 
more  for  the  gross  impiety  of  contemning  it, 
this  is  to  hear  it,  not  out  of  desire,  but  out  of 
fear.  To  desire  it  only  for  some  present  pleas- 
ure and  delight  that  a  man  may  find  in  it,  is 
not  the  due  use  and  end  of  it:  that  there  is 
delight  in  it,  may  help  to  commend  it  to 
those  that  find  ii  so,  and  so  be  a  mean  to  ad- 
vance the  end  ;  but  the  end  it  is  not.  To 
seek  no  more  than  a  present  delight,  that 
evanisheth  with  the  sound  of  the  words  that 
die  in  the  air,  is  not  to  desire  the  word  as 
meat,  but  as  music,  as  Gud  tells  the  prophet 
Ezekiel  of  his  people,  Ezek.  xxxiii.  32:  And 
lo,  thou  art  unto  them  as  a  very  lovely  song 
of  one  that  halh  a  pleasant  voice,  and  can  play 
well  upon  an  instrument  ;  for  they  hear  thy 
words,  and  they  do  them  not.  To  desire  the 
word  for  the  increase  of  knowledge,  although 
this  is  necessary  and  commendable,  and,  be- 
ing rightly  qualified,  is  a  part  of  spiritual  ac- 
cretion, vet,  taking  it  as  going  no  further,  it 


is  not  the  true  end  of  the  word.  Nor  is  the 
vesiing  of  that  knowledge  in  speech  and  fre- 
quent discourse  of  the  word  and  the  divine 
truths  that  are  in  it  ;  which,  where  it  is  gov- 
erned with  Christian  j)rudence,  is  not  to  be 
despised,  but  commended  ;  yet,  certainly,  the 
higliest  knowledge,  and  the  most  fre(|ueiit  and 
skilful  speaking  of  the  word,  severed  from  the 
growth  here  mentioned,  misses  the  true  end 
of  the  word.  If  any  one's  head  or  tongue 
sJiould  grow  apace,  and  all  the  rest  stand  at 
a  stay,  it  would  certainly  make  him  a  mon- 
ster ;  and  they  are  no  other,  who  arc  knowing 
and  discoursing  Christians,  and  grow  daily 
in  that  respect,  but  not  at  all  in  holiness  of 
heart  and  life,  which  is  the  proper  growth  of 
the  children  of  God.  Apposite  to  their  case 
is  Ei)icietus's  comparison  of  the  sheep  ;  they 
return  not  what  they  eat  in  grass,  but  in  wool. 
David,  in  that  cxixth  psalm,  which  is  wholly 
sjient  upon  this  subject,  the  excellency  and 
use  of  the  word  of  God,  expresseth,  ver.  15, 
16,  24,  his  delight  in  it,  his  earnest  desire  to 
be  further  taught,  and  to  know  more  of  it ; 
his  readiness  to  speak  of  it,  ver.  13,  27  ;  but 
withal,  you  know,  he  joins  his  desire  and 
care  to  keep  it,  to  hide  it  in  his  heart,  &c., 
ver.  5.  11  ;  to  make  it  the  man  of  his  counsel, 
to  let  it  be  as  the  whole  assembly  of  his  privy 
counsellors,  and  to  be  ruled  and  guided  by  it ; 
and,  with  him,  to  use  it  so,  is  indeed  to  grow 
by  it. 

If  we  know  what  this  spiritual  life  is,  and 
wherein  the  nature  of  it  consists,  we  may  ea- 
sily know  what  is  the  growth  of  it.  When 
holiness  increases,  when  the  sanctifying 
graces  of  the  Spirit  grow  stronger  in  the 
soul,  and  consequently  act  more  strongly  in 
the  life  of  a  Christian,  then  he  grows  spiritu- 

And  as  the  word  is  the  mean  of  begetting 
this  spiritual  life,  so  likewise  of  its  increase. 

1.  This  will  appear,  if  we  consider  the  na- 
ture of  the  word  in  general,  that  it  is  spiritu- 
al and  Divine,  treats  of  the  highest  things, 
and  therefore  hath  in  it  a  fitness  to  elevate 
men's  minds  from  the  earth,  and  to  assimi- 
late to  itself  such  as  are  often  conversant 
with  it ;  as  all  kind  of  doctrine  readily  doth 
to  those  who  are  much  in  it,  aiid  apply  their 
minds  to  study  it.  Doubtless  such  kind  of 
things  as  are  frequent  with  men,  have  an  in- 
fluence into  the  disposition  of  their  souls. 
The  gospel  is  called  light,  and  the  children 
of  God  are  likewise  called  hfrht,  as  being 
transformed  into  its  nature  ;  ancf  thus  they  be- 
come still  the  more,  by  more  hearing  of  it, 
and  so  ihey  grow. 

2.  If  we  look  more  particularly  unto  the 
strain  and  tenor  of  the  word,  it  will  appear 
most  fit  for  increasing  the  graces  of  the  Spir- 
it in  a  Christian  ;  for  there  be  in  it  particular 
truths  relative  to  them,  that  are  apt  to  excite 
them,  and  set  them  on  work,  and  so  to  make 
'.hem  grow,  as  all  habits  d-o,  by  acting.  It 
doih  (as  the  apostle's  word  may  be  translated) 
stir  up  the  sparks,  and  blow  them  into  a  great 


Ver.  3.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


131 


er  flame,  make  them  burn  clearer  and  hotter. 
This  it  doth  both  by  particular  exhortation 
to  the  study  and  exercise  of  those  graces, 
sometimes  pressingr  one,  and  sometimes  an- 
other :  and  by  right  representing  to  them 
their  objects.  The  word  feeds  faith,  by  set- 
ting before  it  the  free  grace  of  God,  his  rich 
promises,  and  his  power  and  truth  to  perform 
them  all  ;  shows  it  the  strength  of  the  new 
covenant,  not  depending  upon  itself,  but 
holding  in  Christ,  in  whom  all  the  promises 
of  God  are  yea  and  amen;  and  drawing  faith 
still  to  rest  more  entirely  upon  his  righteous- 
ness. It  feeds  repentance,  by  making  the  vile- 
ness  and  deformity  of  sin  daily  more  clear 
and  visible.  Still  as  more  of  the  word  hath 
admission  into  the  soul,  the  more  it  hates  sin, 
sin  being  the  more  discovered  and  the  better 
known  in  its  own  native  color :  as  the  more 
light  there  is  in  a  house,  the  more  anything 
that  is  uncleanly  or  deformed  is  seen  and  dis- 
liked. Likewise  it  increaseth  love  to  God,  by 
opening  up  still  more  and  more  of  his  infinite 
excellency  and  loveliness.  As  it  borrows  the 
resemblance  of  the  vilest  things  in  nature,  to 
express  the  foulness  and  hatefulness  of  sin,  so 
all  the  beauties  and  dignities  that  are  in  all 
the  creatures  are  called  together  in  the  word, 
to  give  us  some  small  scantling  of  that  Un- 
created Beauty  that  alone  deserves  to  be 
loved.  Thus  might  its  fitness  be  instanced 
in  respect  to  all  other  graces. 

But  above  all  other  considerations,  this  is 
observable  in  the  word  as  the  increaser  of 
grace,  that  it  h(jlds  forth  Jesus  Christ  to  our 
view  to  look  upon,  not  only  as  the  j)erfect  pat- 
tern, but  as  the  full  fountain  of  all  grace,  from 
whose  f'.'ncss  ve  all  receive.  The  contem- 
plating 01  him  as  the  perfect  image  of  God, 
and  then  drawing  from  him  as  having  in  him- 
self a  treasure  for  us,  these  give  the  soul  more 
of  that  image  in  which  consists  truly  spiritual 
growth.  This  the  apostle  expresseth  excel- 
lently, 2  Cor.  iii.  ult.,  speaking  of  the  minis- 
try of'  the  gospel  revealing  Christ,  that  hcholil- 
inf^  tn  him  (as  it  is,  ch.  iv.  6,  in  his  face)  the 
glory  of  the  Lord,  we  are  chanf^ed  into  the 
same  imase  from  glory  to  glory,  as  hy  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord:  not  only  that  we  may 
take  the  copy  of  his  graces,  but  have  a  share 
of  them. 

There  may  be  many  things  that  might  be 
said  of  this  spiritual  growth,  but  I  will  add 
only  a  few. 

First,  on  the  one  hand,  in  the  judging  of 
his  growth,  some  persons  conclude  too  rigidly 
against  tneinselves,  that  they  grow  not  by  the 
word,  because  their  growth  is  not  so  sensible 
;o  them  as  they  desire.  But,  1.  It  is  well 
known,  that  in  all  things  that  grow,  this 
principle  is  not  discerned  in  motu  scd  in  ter- 
niino,  not  in  the  growing,  but  when  they  are 
grown.  2.  Besides,  other  things  are  to  be 
considered  in  this:  although  other  graces 
seem  nut  to  advance,  yet  if  thou  growest  more 
felf-df  nyinjT  and  humble  in  the  sense  of  thy 
slowness,  all  is  not  lost ;  although  the  branch- 


'  es  shoot  not  up  so  fast  as  thou  wishest,  yet, 
if  the  root  grow  deeper,  and  fasten  more,  it  is 
a  useful  growth.  He  that  is  still  learning  to 
be  more  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  less  in  himself, 

'  to  have  all  his  dependance  and  comfort  in 
him,  is  doubtless  a  growing  believer. 

On  the  other  side,  a  far  greater  number 
conclude  wrong  in  their  own  favor,  imagining 

^  that  ihey  do  grow,  if  they  gain  ground  in  some 
of  those  things  we  mentioned  above  ;  namely, 

[  more  knowledge  and  more  faculty  of  discour- 
sing, if  they  find  often  some  present  stirrings 

j  of  joy  or  sorrow  in  hearing  of  the  word,  if 

'  they  reform  their  life,  grow  more  civil  and 
blameless,  &c.  ;  yet  all  these,  and  many  such 
things,  may  be  in  a  natural  man,  who  not- 
withstanding grows  not,  for  that  is  impossi- 
ble ;  he  is  not,  in  that  state,  a  subject  capable 
of  this  growth,  for  he  is  dead,  he  hath  none 
of  the  new  life  to  which  this  growth  relates. 
Herod  heard  gladly,  and  obeyed  many  thhigs, 

I  Mark  vi.  20. 

I     Consider,  then,  what  true  delight  we  might 
have  in  this.    You  find  a  pleasure  when  you 
see  your  children  grow,  wken  they  begin  to 
stand  and  walk,  and  so  forth  ;  you  love  well 
to  perceive  your  estate  or  your  honor  grow : 
but  for  the  soul  to  be  growing  liker  God,  and 
nearer  heaven,  if  we  know  it,  is  a  pleasure  far 
beyond  them  all :  to  find  pride,  earthliness, 
and  vanity  abating,  and  faith,  love,  and  spir- 
itual-mintledness  increasing  ;  especially  if  we 
reflect  that  this  growth  is  not  as  our  natural 
life,  which  is  often  cut  ofi"  before  it  has  at- 
tained full  age,  as  we  call  it,  and,  if  it  attain 
that,  falls  again  to  move  downward,  and  de- 
1  cays,  as  the  sun,  being  at  its  meridian,  begins 
[  to  decline  again  ;  but  this  life  shall  grow  on 
in  whomsever  it  is,  and  come  certainly  to  its 
I  fulness  ;  after  which,  there  is  no  more  need 
j  of  this  word,  either  for  growth  or  nourish- 
ment— no  death,  no  decay,  no  old  age,  but 
I  perpetual  youth,  and  a  perpetual  spring  ;  ver 
!  (Tternum,  fulness  of  Joy  in  the  presence  of 
God,  and  everlasting  pleasures  at  his  right 
hand. 

Ver  3.  If  so  be  ye  have  tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gra- 
cious. 

Our  natural  desire  of  food  arises  principal- 
ly from  its  necessity  for  that  end  which  na- 
ture seeks,  viz.,  the  growth,  or  at  least  the 
nourishment  of  our  bodies.  But  there  is  be- 
sides, a  present  sweetness  and  pleasantness 
in  the  use  of  it,  that  serves  to  sharpen  our 
desire,  and  is  placed  in  our  nature  for  that 
purpose.  Thus  the  children  of  God,  in  their 
spiritual  life,  are  naturally  carried  to  desire 
the  means  of  their  nourishment  and  of  theii 
growth,  being  always  here  in  a  growing 
state  ;  but  withal  there  is  a  spiritual  delight 
and  sweetness  in  the  word,  in  that  which  it 
reveals  concerning  God.  and  tliis  adds  to  their 
desire,  stirs  up  their  a[)petite  toward  it.  The 
former  idea  is  expressed  in  the  foregoing 
verse,  tlie  latter  in  this.  Nature  disposes  the 
infant  to  the  breast  ;  but  when  it  hath  one 


.82 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE. 


[Chap.  II' 


fasteil  of  a,  that  is  a  new  superadded  aitrac- 
live,  and  makes  it  desire  afler  it  tlie  more 
earnestly.    So  here, 

The  word  is  fully  recommended  to  us  by 
these  two,  usefulness  and  pleasantness:  like 
milk  (as  it  is  compared  here),  which  is  a 
nnurisiiiiig  food, and  withal  sweet  and  delight- 
ful to  the  taste  :  by  il  we  grow,  and  in  it  wc 
taste  the  graciousncssof  (lod.  David,  in  that 
psalm  which  he  dedicates  wholly  to  this  sub- 
ject, gives  both  these  as  the  reason  of  his  ap- 
petite. His  love  to  it  he  expresses  patheti- 
cally (cxix.  97),  O  how  love  I  ihy  law!  It 
follows,  that  by  it  he  was  made  wiser  than 
his  enemies — than  his  teachers — and  than  the 
ancients;  taught  to  refrain  from  every  evil 
way  (ver.  102)  ;  taught  by  the  Author  of  that 
word,  the  Lord  himself,  to  grow  wiser  and 
warier,  and  holier  in  the  divine  ways  ;  and 
then,  ver.  103.  he  adds  this  other  reason,  Hoiv 
sweet  are  thy  words  unto  my  taste  !  yea,  sweet- 
er than  honey  to  my  mouth. 

We  shall  speak,  I.  Of  the  goodness  or  gra- 
ciousness  of  the  Lord  ;  11.  Of  this  taste  ;  and 
TU.  Of  the  inference  from  both. 

I.  The  goodness  of  God  :  The  Lord  is  gra- 
cious ;  or,  of  a  bountiful,  kind  disposition. 
The  Hebrew  word  in  Psal.  xxxiv.  S,  whence 
this  is  taken,  signifies  good.  The  Scptuagint 
render  it  by  the  same  word  as  is  used  here  by 
our  apostle.  Both  the  words  sisfnify  a  benig- 
nity and  kindness  of  nature.  It  is  given  as 
one  of  love's  attributes,  1  Cor.  xiii.  4,  that  it 
is  kind  ^o/ir:"trui  ever  compassionate,  and  help- 
ful as  it  can  be  in  straits  and  distresses,  still 
ready  to  forget  and  pass  by  evil,  and  to  do 
good.  In  the  largest  and  most  comprehen- 
sive sense  must  we  take  the  expression  here, 
and  yet  still  we  shall  s])eak  and  think  infinite- 
ly below  what  his  goodness  is.  He  is  natu- 
rally good,  yea,  goodness  is  his  nature  ;  he  is 
goodness  and  love  itself.  He  that  lorelh  not, 
knoweth  not  God  ;  for  God  is  love,  1  John  iv. 
8.  He  is  primitively  good  ;  all  goodness  is 
derived  from  him,  and  all  that  is  in  the  crea- 
ture comes  forth  from  no  other  than  that 
ocean  ;  and  his  graciousness  is  still  larger 
than  them  all. 

There  is  a  common  bounty  of  God,  wherein 
he  doth  good  to  all,  and  so  the  whole  earth  is 
full  of  his  iroodness,  Psal.  xxxiii.  5.  But  the 
goodness  that  the  gospel  is  full  of— the  par- 
ticular stream  that  runs  in  that  chamiel,  is 
his  peculiar  graciousness  and  love  to  his  own 
children,  that  by  which  they  are  first  enli- 
vened, and  then  refreshed  and  sustained  in 
their  spiritual  being.  It  is  this  that  is  here 
spoken  of.  He  is  gracious  to  them  in  freely 
forgiving  their  sins,  in  giving  no  less  than 
himself  .unto  them  ;  he  frees  them  from  all 
evils,  and  fills  them  with  all  good.  He  satis- 
fies thy  mouth  with  good  ihim^s,  Psal.  ciii. 
3-5:  and  so  it  follows  with  good  reason,  ver. 
8,  that  he  is  mtrciful  and  nrar.iouf  ;  and  his 
graciousness  is  there  further  expressed  in  his 
gentleness  and  slowness  to  an!>er,  his  hear- 
Jig  wit'n  the  frailties  of  his  own,  and  pity- 


ing them  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children, 
verse  13. 

No  friend  is  so  kind  and  friendly  (as  this 
word  signifies),  and  none  so  poweri'ul.  He 
is  a  present  help  in  trouble,  rt,ady  to  be  found  : 
whereas  others  may  be  far  ofi",  he  is  alwaya 
at  hand,  and  his  presence  is  always  comfort- 
able. 

They  that  know  God,  still  find  him  a  real, 
useful  good.  Some  things  and  some  person* 
are  useful  at  one  time,  and  others  at  another, 
hut  God  at  all  times.  A  well-furnished  ta- 
ble may  please  a  man  while  he  hath  health 
and  appetite,  but  oflcr  it  to  him  in  the  height 
of  a  fever,  how  unpleasant  would  it  be  then  ! 
Though  ever  so  richly  decked,  it  is  then  not 
only  useless,  but  hateful  to  him :  but  the 
kindness  and  love  of  God  is  then  as  seasona- 
ble and  refreshing  to  him,  as  in  health,  and 
possibly  more  ;  he  can  find  sweetness  in  that, 
even  on  his  sick  bed.  The  choler  abounding 
in  the  mouth,  in  a  fever,  doth  not  disrelish 
this  sweetness  ;  it  transcends  and  goes  above 
it.  Thus  all  earthly  enjoyments  have  but 
some  time  (as  meats)  when  they  are  in  sea- 
son, but  the  graciousness  of  God  is  always 
sweet ;  the  taste  of  that  is  never  out  of  sea- 
son. See  how  old  age  spoils  the  relish  of 
outward  delights,  in  the  example  of  Barzillai, 
2  Sam.  xix.  35 ;  but  it  makes  not  this  dis- 
tasteful. Therefore  the  psalmist  prays,  that 
when  other  comforts  forsake  him  and  wear 
out,  when  they  ebb  from  him  and  leave  him 
on  the  sand,  this  may  not ;  that  still  he  may 
feed  on  the  goodness  of  God  :  Psal.  Ixxi.  9, 
Cast  me  not  off  in  old  age,  forsake  me  not 
when  my  strength  faileth.  It  -'s  the  contin- 
ual influence  of  his  graciousness  that  makes 
them  still  grow  like  cedars  in  Leoanon,  Psal. 
xcii.  14,  15,  that  makes  them  bring  forth 
fruit  in  old  age,  and  to  be  still  fat  and  flour- 
ishing ;  to  show  that  the  Lord  is  upright,  as 
it  is  there  added,  that  he  is  (as  the  word  im- 
ports) still  like  himself,  and  his  goodness  ever 
the  same. 

Full  chests  or  large  possessions  may  seem 
sweet  to  a  man,  till  death  present  itself ;  but 
thi  n  (as  the  prop!;et  sj^eaks  of  throwing  avmy 
their  idols  of  silver  and  gold  to  the  bats  and 
moles,  in  the  day  of  calamity,  Isa.  ii.  20) — ■ 
then,  he  is  forced  to  throw  away  all  he  pos- 
sesses, with  disdain  of  il  and  of  his  former 
folly  in  doating  on  it — then,  the  kindness  of 
friends,  and  wife,  and  children  can  do  noth- 
ing but  increase  his  grief  and  their  own — but 
then  is  the  love  of  God  the  good  indeed  and 
abiding  sweetness,  and  it  best  relisheth  when 
all  other  things  are  most  unsavory  and  un 
comfortable. 

God  is  gracious, but  it  is  God  in  Christ ;  oth- 
erwise we  can  not  find  him  so  ;  therefore  this 
is  here  spoken  in  particular  of  Jesus  Christ 
(as  it  appears  by  that  which  followeth), 
through  whom  all  the  peculiar  kindness  and 
love  of  God  is  conveyed  to  the  soul,  for  it  can 
come  no  other  way ;  and  the  word  here  men- 
tioned is  the  gospel  (See  ch.  i.  ver.  ult.),  whert^ 


Veb.  3.] 


FIB  ST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


133 


of  Christ  is  the  tiubject.  Though  God  is  mercy 
and  goodness  in  himself,  yet  we  can  not  find 
or  apprehend  him  so  to  us,  but  as  we  are 
looking  through  that  medium,  the  Mediator. 
That  main  point  of  the  goodness  of  God  in 
the  gospel,  which  is  so  sweet  to  an  humbled 
sinner,  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  we  know  we 
can  not  taste  of,  but  in  Christ,  In  wliorn  we 
have  redemption,  Kph.  i.  7.  And  all  the  favor 
that  shines  on  us,  all  the  grace  we  receive,  is 
o/  his  fulness  ;  all  our  acceptance  with  God, 
our  being  taken  into  grace  and  kindness 
again,  is  in  him.  He  made  us  accepted  in  the 
beloved  (ver.  6).  His  grace  appears  in  both, 
as  it  is  there  expressed,  but  it  is  all  in  Christ. 
Let  us  therefore  never  leave  him  out  in  our 
desires  of  tasting  the  graciousness  and  love 
of  God  :  for  otherwise,  we  shall  but  dishonor 
him,  and  disappoint  ourselves. 

The  free  grace  of  God  was  given  to  be 
tasted,  in  the  promises,  before  the  coming  of 
Christ  in  the  flesh  ;  but  being  accomplished 
in  his  coming,  then  was  the  sweetness  of 
grace  made  more  sensible  ;  then  was  it  more 
fully  broached,  and  let  out  to  the  elect  wwld, 
when  he  was  pierced  on  the  cross,  and  his 
blood  poured  out  for  our  redemption.  Through 
those  holes  of  his  wounds  may  ice  draw,  and 
taste  that  the  Lord  is  gracious,  says  St.  Au- 
gustine. 

II.  As  to  this  taste  :  Ye  have  tasted.]  There 
is  a  tasting  exercised  by  temporary  believers, 
spoken  of  Heb.  vi.  4.  There  hia'hest  sense 
of  spiritual  things  (and  it  will  be  in  some  fur 
higher  than  we  easily  think),  yet  is  but  a 
taste,  and  is  called  so  in  comparison  of  the 
truer,  fuller  sense  that  true  believers  have  of 
the  grace  and  goodness  of  God,  wliich,  coin- 
pared  with  a  temporary  taste,  is  more  than 
tasting.  The  former  is  merely  tasting  ;  rather 
an  imaginary  taste  than  real ;  but  this  is  a 
true  feeding  on  the  graciousness  of  God,  yet 
It  is  called  but  a  taste  in  respect  of  the  ful- 
ness to  come.  Tliough  it  is  more  than  a 
taste,  as  dl*/'nguishable  from  the  hypocrite's 
sense,  yet  it  is  no  more  than  a  taste,  compared 
with  the  great  marriage-feast  we  look  for. 

Jesus  Christ  being  all  tn  all  unto  the  soul, 
faith  apprehending  him,  is  all  the  spiritual 
sense.  Faith  is  ihe  eye  that  beholds  his 
matchless  beauty,  and  so  kindles  love  in  the 
soul,  and  can  s[)eak  of  him  as  having  seen 
him  and  taken  particular  notice  of  him.  Cant. 
V.  9.  It  is  the  ear  that  discerns  his  voice. 
Cant.  ii.  8.  It  is  faith  that  smells  his  name 
poured  forth  as  an  ointment  ;  faith  that 
touches  him,  and  draws  virtue  from  him  ; 
and  faith  ihat  tastes  him,  Cant.  ii.  3:  and  so 
bere,  If  ye  have  tasted. 

In  order  to  this  there  must  be,  1.  A  firm 
believitig  of  the  truth  of  the  promises,  where- 
m  the  free  grace  of  God  is  ex[)ressed  and  ex- 
hibited 10  IS.  2.  A  particular  ap|)lication  or 
aitraclion  of  that  grace  to  ourselves,  which  is 
'he  dawning  of  those  hreosts  of  consolation. 
Isa.  Ixvi.  II,  namely,  the  promises  contained 
in  the  Old  and  JMew  Testainents.    3.  A  sense 


of  the  sweetness  of  that  grace,  being  applied 
or  drawn  into  the  soul,  and  that  constitutes 
properly  this  taste.  No  unrenewed  man  hath 
any  of  these  in  truth,  not  the  highest  kind  of 
temporary  believer  ;  he  can  not  have  so  much 
as  a  real  lively  assent  to  the  general  truth  of 
the  promises  :  for  had  he  that,  the  rest  would 
follow.  But  as  he  can  not  have  the  least  of 
these  in  truth,  he  may  have  the  counterfeit 
of  them  all  ;  not  only  of  assent  but  of  appli- 
cation :  yea,  and  a  false  spiritual  joy  arising 
from  it  ;  and  all  these  so  drawn  to  the  life, 
that  they  may  resemble  much  of  the  reality  ; 
to  give  clear  characters  of  difference  is  not  so 
easy  as  most  persons  imagine  ;  but  doubtless, 
the  true  living  faith  of  a  Christian  hath  in  it- 
self such  a  j)articular  stamp,  as  brings  with  it 
its  own  evidence,  when  the  soul  is  clear  and 
the  light  of  God's  face  shines  upon  it.  Indeed, 
in  the  dark  we  can  not  read,  nor  distinguish 
one  mark  from  another  ;  but  when  a  Chris- 
tian hath  light  to  look  upon  the  work  of  God 
in  his  own  soul,  although  he  can  not  make 
another  sensible  of  that  by  which  he  knows 
it,  yet  he  himself  is  ascertained,  and  can  say 
confidently  in  himself,  "  This  I  know,  that 
this  faith  and  taste  of  God  I  have  is  true  ;  the 
seal  of  the  spirit  of  God  is  upon  it  ;"  and  this 
is  the  reading  of  that  new  name  in  the  white 
stone,  ifhich  no  man  knoivs  but  he  that  hath  it, 
Rev.  ii.  17.  There  is,  in  a  true  believer, 
such  a  constant  love  to  God  for  himself,  and 
such  a  continual  desire  after  him  simply  for 
I  his  own  excellency  and  goodness,  as  no  other 
can  have.  On  the  other  side,  would  a  hyi)o- 
j  crite  deal  truly  and  impartially  by  himself  he 
j  W(juld  readily  find  out  something  that  would 
discover  him,  more  or  less,  to  himself.  But 
i  the  truth  is,  men  are  willing  lo  deceive  them- 
I  selves,  and  thence  arises  the  dillicidty.  One 
man  can  not  make  another  sensible  of  the 
sweetness  of  divine  iirace :  he  may  speak  to 
him  of  it  very  excellently,  but  all  he  says  in 
that  kind,  is  an  unknown  language  to  a  natu- 
'  ral  man  :  he  heareth  many  good  words,  but 
j  he  can  not  tell  what  they  mean.  The  natu- 
ral man  tastes  not  the  things  of  God,  for  they 
•  are  spirilnall y  discerned.    1  Cor.  ii.  14. 

A  spiritual  man  himself  doth  not  fully  con- 
I  ceive  this  sweetness  that  he  tastes  of ;  it  is 
j  an  infinite  goodness,  and  he  hath  but  a  taste 
of  it.    The  peace  of  God,  which  is  a  main 
fruit  of  this  his  goodness,  passeth  all  under- 
\  slandina,  says  the  apostle,  Phil.  iv.  7:  not 
only  all  natural  understanding  (as  some  mod- 
ify it),  but  all  understanding,  even  the  super- 
natural understanding  of  those  who  enjoy  it. 
And  as  the  godly  man  can  not  conceive  it  all, 
so  as  to  that  which  he  ccjnceives,  he  can  not 
express  it  all,  and  that  which  he  doth  express, 
the  carnal  mind  can  not  conceive  of  by  his 
expression. 

But  he  that  hath  indeed  tasted  of  this  good- 
ness, 0  bow  tasteless  are  those  things  to  hira 
that  the  world  call  sweet !  As  when  you 
have  tasted  somelbinij  that  is  very  sweet,  it 
disrelishes  other  things  after  it.  Therefore 


134 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  Il, 


can  a  Cliristian  so  easily  eilhrr  want,  or  use 
with  disregard  the  delights  of  iliis  lartli.  His 
heart  is  not  upon  them  :  lur  the  delight  that 
he  tinds  in  (Jud  carrieth  it  un^pealcaldy  away 
from  all  the  rest,  and  makes  them  in  compari- 
son >eem  sapless  to  his  taste. 

S^ulotnon  tasted  of  all  ihc  delicacies,  the 
choicest  dishes  that  are  in  such  esteem  among 
men,  and  not  only  tasted,  but  ate  largely  ol' 
them,  and  yet,  see  how  he  goes  over  them,  to 
let  us  know  what  they  are,  and  passes  from 
one  dish  to  another.  This  also  is  vanity,  and 
of  the  next,  Tins  also  is  vanity,  and  so 
through  all,  and  of  all  in  general,  .1//  is  van- 
ity and  vexation  of  spirit,  or  J'eci/tn^  on  the 
wind,  as  the  word  may  be  rendered. 

III.  We  come  in  the  third  pla^e  to  the  in- 
ference:  If  ye  hare  tasted,  &c.,  then  /ay 
aside  all  malice  and  guile,  and  hy/.ocrisies  and 
envies,  and  all  evil  sjiei/l;iHi;.i,  ver.  1  ;  for  it 
looks  back  to  the  whole  exhortation.  Surely, 
if  you  have  tasted  ol  that  kindness  and  sweet- 
ness of  God  in  Christ,  it  will  compose  your 
spirits,  and  confortn  them  to  him  ;  it  will  dif- 
fuse such  a  sweetness  through  )  our  soul,  that 
there  will  be  no  place  for  malice  and  guile  ; 
there  will  be  nothing  but  love,  and  meekness, 
and  singleness  of  heart.  Therefore,  they  who 
have  bitter  malicious  spirits,  evidence  they 
have  not  tasted  of  the  love  of  God.  As  the 
Lord  is  good,  so  they  who  taste  of  his  good- 
ness are  made  like  him.  Be  ye  kind  one  to 
another,  tender-hearted ,  for  giving  one  anoth- 
er, even  as  God  for  Christ's  sake,  hath  for- 
given you.    Eph.  iv.  32. 

Again,  if  ye  have  tasted,  then  desire  more. 
And  this  will  be  the  truest  sign  ol'  it :  he  that 
is  in  a  continual  hunger  and  thirst  afier  this 
graciousness  of  God,  has  surely  tasted  of  it. 
Ml/  soul  thirstelh  for  God,  saith  David,  Psal. 
xlii.  2.  He  had  tasted  before  ;  he  remem- 
bers, ver.  4,  that  he  went  to  the  house  of  God, 
with  the  voice  of  joy. 

This  is  that  happy  circle  wherein  the  soul 
of  the  believer  moves  :  the  more  they  love  it, 
the  more  they  shall  taste  of  this  goodness  ; 
and  the  more  they  taste,  the  more  they  shall 
still  love  and  desire  it. 

But  observe,  if  ye  have  tasted  that  the  Lord 
is  gracious,  then,  desire  the  milk  of  the  word. 
This  is  the  sweetness  of  the  u-ord,  that  it 
hath  in  it  the  Lord's  graciousness  gives  us 
the  knowledge  of  his  love.  This  they  find  in 
it,  who  have  spiritual  life  and  senses,  and 
those  senses  exercised  to  discern  good  and 
evil  ;  and  this  engages  a  Christian  to  fur- 
ther desire  of  the  word.  They  are  fantas- 
tical deluding  tastes,  that  draw  men  from 
the  written  word,  and  make  them  expect 
other  revelations.  This  graciousness  is  first 
conveyed  to  us  by  the  n  ord  ;  there  first  we 
taste  it,  and  therefore,  there  still  we  are  to 
seek  it ;  to  hang  u\wn  those  breasts  that  can 
not  be  drawn  dry  ;  'here  the  love  of  God,  in 
Christ,  streams  forth  in  the  several  promises. 
The  heart  that  cleaves  to  the  word  of  God, 
and  delights  in  it,  can  not  but  find  in  it,  daily, 


new  tastes  of  his  goodness  ;  vhere  it  rea^s  his 
love,  and  by  that  stirs  up  its  own  to  him,  and 
so  grows  and  loves,  every  day  more  than  the 
former,  and  thus  is  tending  from  tastes  to 
fulness.  It  is  but  little  we  can  receive  here, 
some  drops  of  joy  ihat  enter  into  us  ;  but 
there  we  shall  enter  into  joy,  as  vessels  put 
into  a  sea  of  happiness. 

VuR.  4.  To  whom,  coming  as  unto  a  living  stone,  dis- 
allowcd  indiH'd  ol  men,  but  cliosen  of  (iod,  and 
precious ; 

Ver.  5.  Ye  also,  as  lively  stones,  are  bnilt  up  a  spir- 
itual bouse,  a  holy  priesthood,  to  offer  u))  spiritual 
sacrifices,  acceptable  to  God  by  Jesus  Christ. 

The  spring  of  all  the  dignities  of  a  Chris- 
tian, which  is  therefore  the  great  motive 
of  all  his  duties,  is,  his  near  relation  to  Jesus 
Christ.    Thence  it  is,  that  the  apostle  makes 
that  the  great  subject  of  his  doctrine,  both  to 
!  represent  to  his  distressed  brethren  their  dig- 
'  nity  in  that  respect,  and  to  press  by  it  the 
necessary  duties  he  exhorts  unto.  Having 
[  spoken  of  their  spiritual  life  and  growth  in 
'  him,  under  the  resemblance  of  natural  life, 
j  he  prosecutes  it  here  by  another  comparison 
(  very  frequent  in  the  scriptures,  and  therefore 
makes  use  in  it  of  some  passages  of  these 
i  Scriptures,  that  were  prophetical  of  Christ 
I  and  his  Church.    Though  there  be  here  two 
j  different  similitudes,  yet  they  have  so  near  a 
relation  one  to  another,  and  meet  so  well  in 
the  same  subject,  that  he  joins  them  together, 
'  and  then  illustrates  them  severally  in  the  fol- 
'  lowing  verses  ;  a  temple,  and  a  priesthood, 
j  comparing  the  saints  to  both  :  The  former  in 
I  these  words  of  this  verse, 
j     We  have  in  it,  1.  The  nature  of  the  build- 
ing :  2.  The  materials  of  it  :  3.  The  structure 
j  or  way  of  building  it. 

1.  The  nature  of  it  is,  a  spiritual  building. 
Time  and  place,  we  know,  received  their 
being  from  God,  and  he  was  eternally  before 
both:  he  is  therefore  styled  by  the  prophet. 
The  high  and  lofty  one  Ihat  inhabitcth  eter- 
!  nity.    Isaiah  Ivii.  15.    But  having  made  the 
I  World,  he  fills  it,  though  not  as  contained  in 
it,  and  so,  the  whole  frame  of  it  is  his  palace 
or  temple,  but  afier  a  more  special  manner, 
the  higher  and  statelier  part  of  it,  the  highest 
heaven  :  therefore  it  is  called  his  holy  jdace 
and  the  hahitation  of  his  holiness  and  glory. 
And  on  earth,  the  houses  of  his  public  wor- 
ship are  called  his  houses;  especially  the 
,  Jewish  temple  in  its  time,  having  in  it  such  a 
i  relative  typical  holiness,  which  others  have 
not.    But  besides  all  ihcse,  and  beyond  them 
all  in  excellency,  he  hath  a  house  wherein  he 
dwells  more  peculiarly  than  in  any  of  th'e  rest, 
even  more  than  in  heaven,  taken  for  the  place 
only,  and  that  is  ihi^  spiritual  building.  And 
this  is  most  suitable  to  the  nature  of  God.  As 
our  Savior  says  of  the  necessary  conformity 
of  his  worship  t(  himself,  God  is  a  spirit,  and 
therefore  will  be  worshipped  in  spirit  and  •:. 
truth,  John  iv.  24  ;  so  it  holds  of  his  house; 
'  he  must  have  a  spiritual  one,  because  he  is  a 
,  spirit ;  so  God's  temple  is  his  people. 


Veb  4,5.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


133 


And  for  this  purpose  chiefly  did  he  make 
the  world,  the  heaven,  and  the  earth,  that  in 
it  he  might  raise  this  spiritual  building  for 
himself  to  dwell  in  for  ever,  to  have  a  num- 
ber of  his  reasonable  creatures  to  enjoy  him, 
and  glorify  him  in  eternity.  And  from  that 
eternity  he  knew  what  the  dimensions,  and  j 
frame,  and  materials  of  it  should  be.  The  | 
continuance  of  this  present  world,  as  now  it 
is,  is  but  for  the  service  of  this  work,  like 
the  scaffolding  about  it ;  and  therefore,  when 
this  spiritual  building  shall  be  fully  comple- 
ted, ail  the  present  frame  of  things  in  the 
world,  and  in  the  church  itself,  shall  be  taken 
away  and  appear  no  more. 

This  building  is,  as"the  particular  designa- 
tion of  its  materials  will  teach  us,  the  whole 
invisible  church  of  God,  and  each  good  man 
is  a  stone  of  this  building.  But  as  tiie  nature 
of  it  is  spiritual,  it  hath  this  privilege  (as 
they  speak  of  the  soul),  that  it  is  tota  m  tnto, 
et  tota  in  'lualihet  parte  :  the  whole  Church 
is  the  spouse  of  Christ,  and  each  believing 
soul  hath  the  same  title  and  dignity  to  be 
called  so:  thus  each  of  these  stones  is  called 
a  whole  temple,  temples  of  the  Ho/y  Ghost, 
1  Cor.  vi.  19  ;  though,  taking  the  temple  or 
building  in  a  completer  sense,  they  are  but 
eacli  one  a  part,  or  a  stone  of  it,  as  here  it  is 
expressed. 

The  whole  excellency  of  this  building  is 
comprised  in  ihis,  that  it  is  spirilnnl,  a  term 
disiiij-juishing  it  from  all  other  buildings,  and 
preferring  it  above  them.    And  inasmuch  as 
the  apostle  speaks  immediately  after  of  a 
priesihtjod  and  sacrifices,  it  seems  to  be  called  I 
a  sfiriluul  buildin<r,  particularly  in  opposi- 1 
tion  to  that  material  temple  wherein  the 
Jews  gloried,  which  was  now  null,  in  regard  I 
of  its  former  use,  and  was  quicklv  after  en- 
tirely destroyed.    Hut  while  it  sio(>V  and  the 
legal  use  of  it  stood  in  its  fullest  vi^-or,  yet,  ! 
in  this  respect,  still  it  was  inferior,  that  it! 
was  not  a  spiritunl  house,  made  up  of  lirum  , 
stones,  as  this,  but  of  a  like  matter  with  other  | 
earthly  buildings.  [ 

This  spiritual  house  is  the  palace  of  the  | 
Great  King,  or  his  temple.    The  Hebrew  | 
word  for  palace  and  temple  is  one.    God's  i 
temple  is  a  palace,  and  therefore  must  be  full  ! 
of  the  richest  beauty  and  magnificence,  but 
such  as  agrees  with  the  nature  of  it,  a  spiritual 
beauty.    In  that  psalm  that  wishes  so  many 
prosperities,  one  is,  that  their  dnusxhters  mm/ 
be  as  corner-stones,  polished  after  the  simili- 
lude  of  a  palace,  Psal.  cxiiv.  \2.    This  is  ihe 
churcii  :  she  is  called  the  liin</s  daughter, 
Psal.  xlv.  13  ;  but  her  comeliness  is  invisible 
'.o  the  world,  she  is  all  glorious  within. 
Through  sorrows  and  persecutions,  she  may 
'je  smoky  and  black  to  ihe  world's  eye,  as 
the  tents  of  Kedar  ;  but  in  regard  of  spiritual 
beauty,  she  is  comely  as  the  curtains  of  Solo- 
mon.   And  in  this  the  Jewish  temple  resem- 
bles It  aright,  which  had  most  of  its  riches 
and  beauty  in  the  inside.    Holiness  is  the 


gold  of  this  spiritual  house,  and  it  is  ii;wardly 
enriched  with  that. 

The  glory  of  the  church  of  God  consists 
not  in  stalely  buildings  of  temples,  and  rich 
furniture,  and  pompous  ceremonies:  these 
agree  not  with  its  spiritual  nature.  Its  true 
and  genuine  beauty  is,  to  grow  in  spirituality, 
and  so  to  be  liker  itself,  and  to  have  more  of 
the  presence  of  God,  and  his  glory  tilling  it 
as  a  cloud.  And  it  hath  been  observed,  that 
the  more  the  church  grew  in  outward  riches 
and  state,  the  less  she  grew,  or  rather  the 
more  sensibly  she  abated  in  spiritual  excel- 
lences. But  the  spiritualness  of  this  build- 
ing will  better  appear  in  considering  partic- 
ularly, 

2dli/.  The  materials  of  it,  as  here  express- 
ed :  To  whom  coming,  &c.,  ye  also,  as  li  vely 
stones,  are.  Sec.  Now  the  whole  building  is 
Christ  mystical,  Christ  together  with  the  en- 
tire body  of  the  elect:  he  as  the  foundation, 
and  they  as  the  stones  built  upon  him  ;  he, 
the  living  stone,  and  they  likewise,  by  union 
with  him,  living  stones  ;  he,  having  life  in 
himself,  as  he  speaks,  John  vi.,  and  they  de- 
riving it  from  him:  he,  primitively  living, 
and  they,  by  participation.  For  therefore  is 
he  called  here  a  livinir  stone,  not  only  be- 
cause of  his  immortality  and  glorious  resur- 
rection, being  a  lamb  that  was  slain,  and  is 
alive  n'rain  for  ever,  but  because  he  is  the 
principle  of  spiriiual  and  eternal  life  unio  us, 
a  living  foundation  that  transfuses  this  life 
into  the  whole  building,  and  every  stone  of 
it.  In  whom  (says  the  apostle,  Ephes.  ii.  21) 
all  the  building  is  fitly  framed  together.  It 
is  the  spirit  that  flows  from  him  which  enli- 
vens it,  and  knits  it  together,  as  a  living  body  ; 
for  the  same  word  n<'^.u,,,'.)~.iy.,vi,tv»v  is  used,  ch. 
iv.  16,  f(jr  ihe  church  under  the  similitude  of 
a  body.  When  it  is  said,  ch.  ii.  20,  to  he 
built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  prophets 
and  apostles,  it  only  refers  to  their  doctrine 
concerning  Christ ;  and  therefore  it  is  added, 
that  he,  as  being  the  subject  of  their  doctrine, 
is  the  chiif  corner-stone.  The  foundation, 
then,  of  the  church,  lies  not  in  Rome,  but  in 
heaven,  and  therefore  is  out  of  the  reach  of 
all  enetnies,  and  above  the  power  of  the  gates 
of  hell.  Fear  not,  then,  when  you  see  the 
storms  arise,  and  the  winds  blow  against  this 
spiritual  building,  for  it  shall  stand;  it  is 
built  upon  an  invisible,  immoveable  rock, 
and  that  great  Babylon,  Rome  itself,  that, 
under  the  false  title  and  pretence  of  su])port- 
ing  this  building,  is  working  to  overtlircjw  it, 
shall  be  utterly  overthrown,  and  laid  equal 
with  the  ground,  and  never  be  rebuilt  again. 

But  this  fni/ridation-stiine,  as  it  is  com- 
mended by  its  (juality,  that  it  is  a  living  and 
enlivening  stone,  having  life  and  giving  life 
to  those  that  are  built  on  it,  so  it  is  also  fur- 
ther described  by  God's  choosing  it,  and  by 
its  own  Worth  ;  in  both  opposed  to  men's 
disesteem,  and  therefore  it  is  said  here,  to  be 
chosen  of  God  and  precious.    God  did  in- 


136 


A  COMMEMTARV"  UPON  THE 


IChap.  n. 


deed  from  eternity  contrive  this  buildinsi,  and 
ciiousi'  this  saiue  tuundaiion,  and  accordiniily, 
ill  tlie  fulness  of  lime,  did  perfuiin  his  i)ur- 
pose  ;  so  liie  thinir  being  one,  we  may  lake  it 
eiiher  for  his  j)urj)ose,  or  tiie  performance  of 
it,  or  both  ;  yet  it  seems  most  suitable  to  the 
strain  of  the  words,  and  to  the  place  alter 
alleged,  in  respect  to  /ayinif  hiin  in  Sion  in 
opposition  to  the  rejection  of  iiieu,  that  we 
taive  it  for  God's  actual  employing  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  the  work  of  our  redemption.  He 
alone  was  ht  for  that  Avork :  it  was  utterly 
im])ossible  that  any  other  should  bear  the 
weight  of  that  service  (and  so  of  this  build- 
ing), than  he  who  was  almighty.  Therefore 
the  spouse  calls  him  the  select,  or  choice  of 
tell  thousand,  yet  he  was  rejected  of  men. 
There  is  an  antijiathy  (if  we  may  so  speak), 
betAvixt  the  mind  of  God  and  corrupt  nature  ; 
the  ihings  that  are  highly  esteemed  with 
men,  are  abomination  to  God  :  and  thus  we 
■;ee  here,  that  which  is  highly  esteemed  wiih 
God,  is  cast  out  and  disa/lviced  by  men.  But 
surely  there  is  no  comparison  ;  tlie  choosing 
and  esteem  of  God  stands  ;  and  by  that  (judge 
men  of  Christ  as  they  will),  he  is  the  founda- 
tion of  this  building.  And  he  is  in  true  value 
answerable  to  this  esteem;  he  is  precious, 
which  seems  to  signify  a  kind  of  inward 
Worth,  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  men,  blind 
unbelieving  men,  but  well  known  to  God, 
and  to  those  to  whom  he  reveals  him.  And 
this  is  the  very  cause  of  his  rejection  by  the 
most,  the  ignorance  of  his  worth  and  excel- 
lency ;  as  a  precious  stone  that  the  skilful 
lapidary  esteems  of  great  value,  an  ignorant 
beholder  makes  little  or  no  account  of 

These  things  hold  likewise  in  the  other 
stones  of  this  building  ;  they,  too,  are  chosen 
before  time  ;  all  that  should  be  of  this  build- 
ing, foreordained  in  God's  purpose,  all  writ- 
ten in  that  book  beforehand,  and  then,  in  due 
lime,  they  are  chosen,  by  actual  calling,  ac- 
cording to  that  purpose,  hewed  out  and  sev- 
ered by  God's  own  hand,  out  of  the  quarry 
of  corrupt  nature  ;  dead  stones  in  themselves, 
as  the  rest,  but  made  living  by  his  bringing 
them  to  Christ,  and  so  made  truly  preciotts, 
and  accounted  precious  by  him  who  hath 
made  them  so.  All  the  stones  in  this  build- 
ing are  called  God's  jewels,  Mai.  iii.  17. 
Though  they  be  vilified  and  scoffed  at,  and 
despised  by  men,  though  tiiey  ])ass  for  fools 
and  the  refuse  of  the  world,  yet  they  may 
easily  digesi  all  that,  in  the  comfort  of  this, 
if  they  are  chosen  of  God,  and  precious  in  his 
eyes.  This  is  the  very  lot  of  Christ,  and 
therefore  by  that  the  more  welcome,  that  it 
conforms  them  to  him — suits  these  stones  to 
tneir  foundation. 

And  if  we  consider  it  aright,  what  a  poor 
despicable  thing  is  the  esteem  of  men  !  How 
S(Jon  is  it  past  !  It  is  a  small  thinu;  for  me, 
says  the  Apostle  Paul,  In  he  jud i^ed  of  men, 
1  Cor.  iv.  f?.  Now  that  God  often  chooses  for 
this  building  such  stones  as  men  cast  away 
as  good  lor  nothing,  see  1  Cor.  i.  26.  And 


where  he  says,  Isa.  Ivii.  15,  that  he  dwells  ' 
the  high  and  holy  ]ilac<^  what  is  his  other 
dwelling?  His  habitation  on  earth,  is  it  in 
great  palaces  and  courts  ?  No:  huiivilh  htm 
also  that  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit. 
Now,  these  are  the  basest  in  men's  account ; 
yet  he  chooses  them,  and  prefers  them  to  all 
other  palaces  and  temples.  Isa.  Ixvi.  1,  2. 
Thus  saitli  the  Lord,  The  heaven  is  my 
throne,  and  t/te  earth  is  my  footstool :  Where 
is  the  house  that  ye  build  unto  me?  ana 
where  is  the  place  of  my  rest  ?  For  all  those 
things  hath  mine  hand  made,  and  all  those 
things  have  been,  saitli  the  Lord  :  But  to  this 
man  will  I  look,  even  to  hitn  that  is  poor,  and 
of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  tremblcth  at  my 
word.  q.  d.  You  can  not  gratify  me  with 
any  dwelling,  for  I  myself  have  made  all,  and 
a  surer  house  than  any  you  can  make  me  ; 
The  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  the  earth  mi/ 
footstool  ;  but  I,  who  am  so  high,  am  pleased 
to  regard  the  lowly. 

3dly.  We  have  the  structure,  or  way  of 
building.  To  whom  coming.]  First,  coming, 
then,  built  up.  They  that  come  unto  Christ, 
come  not  only  from  the  world  that  lieth  in 
wickedness,  but  out  of  themselves.  Of  a 
great  many  that  seem  to  come  to  Christ,  it 
may  be  said,  that  they  are  not  come  to  him, 
^  because  they  have  not  left  themselves.  This 
is  believing  on  him,  which  is  the  very  re- 
signing of  the  soul  to  Christ,  and  living  by 
him.  Ye  mil  not  come  unto  me  that  ye  may 
have  life,  says  Christ,  John  v.  40.  He  com- 
^  plains  of  it  as  a  wrong  done  to  him  ;  but  the 
I  loss  it  ours.  It  is  his  glory  to  give  us  life 
1  who  were  dead  :  but  it  is  our  happiness  to 
I  receive  that  life  from  him.  Now  these  stones 
come  unto  their  foundation  ;  which  imports 
the  moving  of  the  soul  to  Christ,  being  moved 
by  his  spirit,  and  that  the  will  acts,  and  wil- 
lingly (for  it  can  not  act  otherwise),  hut  still 
as  being  actuated  and  drawn  by  the  Father : 
John  vi.  05.  No  rnun  can  come  to  me  except 
the  Father  draw  him.  And  the  outward 
mean  of  drawing  is  by  the  word  ;  it  is  the 
sound  of  that  harp  that  brings  the  stones  of 
this  spiritual  building  together.  And  tiien, 
being  united  to  Christ,  they  are  built  up; 
I  that  is,  as  St.  Paul  expresses  it,  Ephes.  ii.  21, 
I  Iti'Cy  grow  up  unto  a  holy  temple  in  the  Lord. 
j  In  times  of  peace,  the  church  may  dilate 
more,  and  build  as  it  were  into  brcaclth,  but 
in  times  of  trouble,  it  arises  more  in  height ; 
it  is  then  built  upward:  as  in  cities  where 
men  are  straightened,  they  build  usually 
higher  than  in  the  country.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  church's  afiliciions,  yet  still  the  build- 
ing is  going  forward:  it  is  built,  as  Daniel 
speaks  of  Jerusalem,  in  troublous  times. 
And  it  is  this  which  the  apostle  intends,  as 
suiting  with  his  foregoing  exhortation  :  this 
passage  may  be  read  exhortaiively,  too:  but 
taking  it  rather  as  asserting  their  condition, 
it  is  for  this  end,  that  ihey  may  remember  to 
be  like  it,  and  grow  up.  For  this  end  he  ex- 
pressly calls  them  living  stones  ;  an  adjunct 


V  ;r.  4,  5.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


137 


root  not  usual  for  stones,  hut  here  insepa- 
rable ;  and  therefore,  though  the  apostle 
changes  the  similitude,  from  infants  to  stones, 
yet  he  will  not  let  go  this  quality  of  living, 
as  making  chiefly  for  his  purpose. 

To  teach  us  the  necessity  of  growth  in  be- 
lievers, ihey  are  therefore  often  compared  to 
things  that  grow,  to  trees  planted  in  fruitful 
growing  places,  as  by  the  rivers  of  ivater ; 
to  cedars  in  Lebanon,  where  they  are  tall- 
est ;  to  the  morning  light ;  to  infants  on  the 
breast ;  and  here,  where  the  word  seems 
to  refuse  it,  to  stones;  yet  (it  must,  and  well 
doth  admit  this  unwonted  epithet)  they  are 
called  living  and  growing  stones. 

If,  then,  you  Avould  have  the  comfortable 
persuasion  of  this  union  with  Christ,  see 
whether  you  find  your  souls  established  upon 
Jesus  Christ,  finding  him  as  your  strong  foun- 
dation ;  not  resting  on  yourselves,  nor  on  any 
other  thing  either  wiihmyou,  or  without  you, 
but  supported  by  him  alone  ;  drawing  life 
from  him,  by  virtue  of  that  union,  as  from  a 
living  foundation,  so  as  to  say  with  the  apos- 
tle, /  live  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God,  who 
loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me.  Gal.  ii.  20. 

As  these  stones  are  built  on  Christ  by  faith, 
so  they  are  cemented  one  to  another  by  love  ; 
and,  therefore,  where  that  is  not,  it  is  but  a 
delusion  for  persons  to  think  themselves  parts 
of  this  building.  As  it  is  knit  to  him,  it  is 
knit  together  in  itself  through  him  ;  and  if 
dead  stones  in  a  building  support  and  mu- 
tually strengthen  one  another,  how  much 
more  ought  living  stones  in  an  active, 
lively  way  so  to  do  !  The  stones  of  this 
building  keep  their  place:  the  lower  rise  not 
up  to  be  in  the  place  of  the  higher.  As  the 
apostle  speaks  of  the  parts  of  the  body,  so  the 
stones  of  this  building  in  humility  and  love 
keep  their  station,  and  grow  up  in  it,  edif  i/ing 
inlove,  saith  the  apostle,  Eph.  iv.  IG  ;  import- 
ing, that  the  want  of  this  much  prejudices 
edification. 

These  stones,  because  fliey  are  living,  there- 
fore grow  in  tlie  life  of  grace  and  spiritual- 
ness,  being  ^spiritual  building  ;  so  that  if 
we  find  not  this,  but  our  hearts  are  still  car- 
nal, and  glued  to  the  earth,  minding  earthly 
thin<rs,  wiser  in  those  than  in  spirituals,  this 
evidences  strongly  against  us,  that  we  are 
not  of  this  building.  How  few  of  us  have 
that  spiriiualness  that  becomes  the  temples 
of  the  Holy  (rhost,  or  the  stones  of  that  build- 
ing !  Base  lusts  are  still  lodging  and  ruling 
within  us,  and  so  our  hearts  are  as  cages  of 
unclean  birds  and  filthy  spirits. 

Consider  this  as  your  happiness,  to  form 
part  of  this  building,  and  consider  the  unsol- 
idness  of  other  comforts  and  privileges.  If 
some  have  called  those  stones  happy,  that 
were  taken  for  the  building  of  temi)les  or  al- 
tars, beyond  those  in  common  houses,  how 
true  is  it  here  !  Happy  mdeed  the  stones 
ihat  God  choi-)ses  to  be  living  stones  in  this 
si»iritual  tem|)le,  though  they  be  hammered 
and  hew«'d  to  be  polished  for  it,  by  afllictions 
18 


and  the  inward  work  of  mortification  and  re- 
pentance. It  is  worth  the  enduring  of  all,  to 
be  fitted  for  this  building.  Happy  they,  be- 
yond all  the  rest  of  men,  though  they  be  set 
in  never  so  great  honors,  as  prime  parts  of 
politic  buildings  (states  and  kingdoms),  in 
the  courts  of  kings,  yea,  or  kings  themselves. 
For  all  other  buildings,  and  all  the  parts  of 
them  shall  be  demolished  and  come  to  noth- 
ing, from  the  foundation  to  the  cope-stone  ; 
all  your  houses,  both  cottages  and  palaces : 
the  elements  shall  melt  away,  and  the  earth, 
with  all  the  works  in  it,  shall  be  consumed,  as 
our  apostle  hath  it  (2  Pet.  iii.  10).  But  this 
spiritual  building  shall  grow  up  to  heaven  ; 
and  being  come  to  perfection,  shall  abide  for 
ever  in  perfection  of  beauty  and  glory.  In  it 
shall  be  found  no  unclean  thing,  nor  unclean 
person,  but  only  they  that  are  written  in  the 
Lamb's  booh  of  life. 

A  holy  priesthood.]  For  the  worship  and 
ceremonies  of  the  Jewish  church  were  all 
shadows  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  have  their  ac- 
complishment in  him,  not  only  after  a  singu- 
lar manner  in  his  own  person,  but  in  a  de- 
rived way,  in  his  mystical  body,  his  church. 
The  priesthood  of  the  law  represented  him 
as  the  great  High  Priest  tiiat  offered  up  him- 
self for  our  sins,  and  that  is  a  priesthood  al- 
together incommunicable  :  neither  is  there 
any  peculiar  office  of  priesthood  for  offering 
sacrifice  in  the  Christian  church,  but  his 
alone  who  is  head  of  it.  But  this  dignity 
that  is  here  mentioned,  of  a  spiritual  priest- 
hood, offering  up  spiritual  sacrifices,  is  com- 
mon to  all  those  who  arc  in  Christ.  As  they 
are  living  stones  built  on  him  into  a  spiritual 
temple,  so,  they  are  priests  of  that  same  tem- 
ple made  by  him.  (Rev.  i.  6.)  As  he  was, 
after  a  transcendent  manner,  temple,  and 
priest,  and  sacrifice,  so,  in  their  kind,  are 
Christians  all  these  three  through  him  ;  and 
by  his  Spirit  that  is  in  them,  their  olferings 
through  him  are  made  acceptable. 

We  have  here,  1.  The  office  ;  2.  The  ser- 
vice of  that  office  ;  3.  The  success  of  that 
service. 

1.  The  office.  The  death  of  Jesus  Christ, 
as  being  every  way  powerful  for  reconcile- 
ment and  union,  did  not  only  break  down  the 
partition-wall  of  guiltiness  that  stood  between 
God  and  man,  but  the  wall  of  ceremonies  that 
stood  between  the  Jews  and  the  Gentiles:  it 
made  all  that  bfflieve,  one  with  God,  and  made 
of  both  one, ■us  theapostle  speaks — ^united  them 
one  to  another.  The  way  of  salvation  was 
made  known,  not  to  one  nation  only,  but  to 
all  people  :  so  that  whereas  the  knowledge  of 
(rod  was  before  confined  to  one  little  corner, 
it  is  now  diffused  through  the  nations  ;  and 
whereas  tb.e  dignity  of  their  jiriesthood  stayed 
in  a  few  persons,  all  they  who  believe  are 
n(jw  thus  dignified  to  be  priests  unto  God  the 
Father.  And  this  was  signified  by  the  renu 
ing  of  the  veil  of  the  temple  at  his  death  :  not 
only  that  those  ceremonies  and  sacrifices  were 
to  cease,  as  being  all  fulfilled  in  him,  but  tha 


138 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  TL 


the  people  of  God,  who  were  before  by  that  j 
Veil  held  out  in  the  outer  court,  were  to  be 
adinitled  into  the  Holy  Place,  as  beiu<T  all  of 
them  jiriests,  and  lilted  lo  offer  sacrifices. 

Tl  »■  priesthood  of  the  law  was  holy,  and 
its  li  )liness  was  sisnified  by  many  outward 
thins?  suitable  to  their  manner,  by  anoinlini^s, 
and  trax/iini;!!,  and  vestments  ;  but  in  this  spir- 
itual priesthood  of  the  ffospel,  holiness  itself 
is  instead  of  all  those,  as  benig  the  substance 
of  all.  Tiie  children  ol' God  are  all  anointed, 
and  purified,  and  clothed  with  holiness.  But 
then, 

2.  There  is  here  the  service  of  this  office, 
namely,  to  offer.  There  is  no  priesthood 
without  sacrifice,  for  these  terms  are  correla- 
tive, and  offering  sacrifices  was  the  chief  em- 
ployment of  the  ie<ial  priests.  Now,  because 
the  priesthood  here  spoken  of  is  altogether 
spiritual,  therefore  the  sacrifices  must  be  so 
too,  as  the  apostle  here  expresses  it. 

We  are  saved  the  pains  and  cost  of  bring- 
ing bullocks  and  rams,  and  other  such  sacri- 
fices:  and  these  are  in  their  stead.  As  the 
apostle  speaks  (Heb.  vii.  12)  of  the  high 
priesthood  of  Christ,  that  the  priesthood  being 
chanqed,  there  followed  of  necessity  a  change 
of  the  law;  so,  in  this  priesthood  of  Chris- 
tians, there  is  a  change  of  theTtind  of  sacri- 
fice from  the  other.  All  sacrifice  is  not  taken 
away,  but  it  is  changed  from  the  offering  of 
those  things  formerly  in  use  to  spiritual  sac- 
rifices. 

Now  these  are  every  way  preferable  :  they 
are  easier  and  cheaper  to  us,  and  yet  more 

Erecious  and  acceptable  to  God  :  as  it  follows 
ere  in  th  =  text.  Even  in  the  time  when  the 
other  sacrifices  were  in  request,  these  spiritu- 
al offerings  had  ever  the  precedence  in  God's 
account,  and  without  them  he  hated  and  de- 
spised all  burnt-offerings  and  the  largest  sac- 
rifices, though  they  were  then  according  to 
his  own  appointment.  How  much  more 
should  we  abound  in  spiritual  sacrifice,  who 
are  eased  of  the  other  I  How  much  more 
holds  that  answer  now,  that  was  given  even 
in  those  times  to  the  inquiry,  Wherewith  shall 
I  come  before  the  Lord  ?  &c.  (Mic.  vi.  6.)  You 
need  not  all  that  trouble  and  expense,  thou- 
sands of  rams,  &c.  :  that  is  at  hand  which 
God  requires  most  of  all,  namely,  to  do  justly, 
and  to  love  merct/,  and  lo  walk  humbli/  with 
thy  God.  So,  Psalm  1.  23 :  Whoso  offcreth 
praise,  slorifieth  me.  That  which  is  peculi- 
arly spoken  of  Christ,  holds  in  Christians  by 
conformity  with  him. 

But  though  the  spiritual  sacrificing  is  ea- 
sier in'its  own  nature,  yet,  to  the  corrupt  na- 
ture of  man,  it  is  by  far  the  harder.  He  would 
lather  choose  still  all  the  toil  and  cost  of  the 
former  way,  if  it  were  in  his  option.  This 
was  the  sin  of  the  Jews  in  those  times,  that 
they  leaned  the  soul  upon  the  body's  service 
too  much,  and  would  have  done  enough  of 
that,  to  be  dispensed  from  this  spiritual  ser- 
vice. Hence  are  the  Lord's  frequent  reproofs 
tnd  complaints  of  this,  Psalm  1.,  Isai.  i.,  &c. 


Hence  the  willingness  in  popery  for  outwaro 
work,  for  penances  and  satisfactions  of  bod- 
ies and  purses — anything  of  that  kiud,  if  it 
might  serve,  rather  than  the  inward  work  of 
repentance  and  mortification,  the  spiritual 
service  and  sacrifices  of  the  soul.  But  the 
answer  to. all  those  from  God,  is  that  of  the 
prophet:  Who  hath  required  these  things  at 
your  hands  ? 

Indeed,  the  sacred  writers  press  works  of 
charity,  if  they  be  done  with  a  right  hand, 
and  the  left  hand  not  so  much  as  actjuainted 
with  the  business,  as  our  Savior  speaks.  Let 
not  thy  left  hand  know  ivhat  thy  right  hand 
doth.  (Matt.  vi.  3.)  They  must  be  done  with  a 
right  and  single  uitention,  and  from  a  right 
principle  moving  to  them,  without  any  vain 
opinion  of  meriting  by  them  with  God,  or 
any  vain  desire  of  gaining  applause  with 
men,  but  merely  out  of  love  to  God,  and  to 
man  for  his  sake.  Thus  they  become  one  of 
these  spiritual  sacrifices,  and  therefore  ought 
by  no  means  to  be  neglected  by  Christian 
priests,  that  is,  by  any  who  are  Christians. 

Another  spiritual  sacrifice  is,  the  prayers  of 
the  saints  :  Rev.  v.  8  ;  Psal.  cxli.  2.  Let  my 
prayer  beset  forth  before  thee  as  inrense,  and 
the  lifting  vp  of  my  liands  as  the  evening  sac- 
rijice.  It  is  not  the  composition  of  prayer,  oi 
the  eloquence  of  expression,  that  is  the  sweet 
ness  of  it  in  God's  account,  and  makes  it  ? 
sacrifice  of  a  pleasing  smell  or  sweet  odor  to 
him,  but  the  breathing  forth  of  the  desire  of 
the  heart;  that  is  what  makes  it  a  spiritual 
sacrifice  ;  otherwise,  it  is  as  carnal,  and  dead, 
and  worthless  in  God's  account,  as  the  car 
casses  of  beasts.  Incense  can  neither  smell 
nor  ascend  without  fire  ;  no  more  doth  prayer, 
unless  it  arises  from  a  bent  of  spiritual  affec- 
tion ;  it  is  that  which  both  makes  it  smell, 
and  sends  it  heavenward,  makes  it  never 
leave  moving  upward  till  it  come  before  God, 
and  smell  sweet  in  his  nostrils,  which  lew, 
too  few,  of  our  prayers  do. 

Praise  also  is  a  sacrifice  ;  to  make  respect- 
ful and  honorable  mention  of  the  name  of 
God,  and  of  his  goodness  ;  to  bless  him  hum- 
bly and  heartily.  See  Heb.  xiii.  15,  and  Ps. 
1.14,23.  Offer  unto  God  thanksgiving.  Who- 
so off ereth  praise,  glorifieth  me.  And  this  is 
that  sacrifice  that  shall  never  end,  but  con- 
tinues in  heaven  to  eternity. 

Then,  a  holy  course  of  life  is  called  the  sac- 
rifice of  righteousness,  Psal.  iv.  6,  and  Phil, 
iv.  18.  So  also  Heb.  xiii.  16,  where  the  apos- 
tle shows  what  sacrifices  succeed  to  those 
which,  as  he  hath  taught  at  large,  are  abol- 
ished. Christ  was  sacrificed  for  us,  and  that 
offering  alone  was  powerful  to  take  away  siu 
but  our  gratulatory  sacrifices,  praise  and  alms, 
are  as  incense  burnt  to  God,  of  which  as  the 
standers-by  find  the  sweet  smell,  so,  the  holy 
life  of  Christians  smells  sweet  to  those  with 
whom  they  live.  But  the  wicked,  as  putre- 
fied carcasses,  are  of  a  noisome  smell  to  God 
and  man.  They  art  corrupt :  t  'eyhave  done 
abominable  works.  Psal.  xiv.  4. 


Ver.  4,  5.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


139 


In  a  word,  that  saciifice  of  ours  which  in- 
cludes all  these,  and  without  which  none  of 
these  can  be  rightly  offered,  is  Ourselves,  our 
whole  selves.  Our  bodies  are  to  be  presented 
a  living  sacrifice,  Rom.  xii.  1  ;  and  they  are 
not  that  without  our  souls.  It  is  our  heart 
g-iven,  that  gives  all  the  rest,  for  that  com- 
mands all.  My  son,  qive  me  thy  heart,  and 
then  the  other  will  follow  ;  thhie  eyes  will  de- 
light in  iny  ways.  This  makes  the  eyes,  ears, 
tongue,  and  hands,  and  all,  to  be  holy,  as 
God's  peculiar  property ;  and  being  once 
given  and  consecrated  to  him,  it  becomes  sac- 
rilege to  turn  them  to  any  unholy  use.  This 
makes  a  man  delight  to  hear  and  speak  of 
things  that  concern  God,  and  to  think  on  him 
frequently,  to  be  holy  in  his  secret  thoughts, 
and  in  all  his  ways.  In  everything  we  bring 
him,  every  thanksgiving  and  prayer  we  offer, 
his  eye  is  upon  the  heart :  he  looks  if  it  be 
along  with  our  offering,  and  if  he  miss  it,  he 
cares  not  for  all  the  rest,  but  throws  it  back 
again. 

The  heart  must  be  offered  withal,  and  the 
whole  heart,  all  of  it  entirely  given  to  him. 
Sc  totum  ohlulil  Christus  -pro  nobis:  Christ 
offered  up  his  whole  self  for  us.  In  another 
"iense,  which  crosses  not  this,  thy  heart  must 
not  be  whole,  but  broken.  Psal.  li.  17.  But  if 
thou  find  it  unbroken,  yet  give  it  him,  with  a 
desire  that  it  may  be  broken.  And  if  it  be 
broken,  and  if,  when  thou  hast  given  it  him,, 
he  break  it  more,  yea,  and  melt  it  too,  yet 
thou  shah  not  repent  thy  gift  ;  for  he  breaks 
and  melts  it,  that  he  may  refine  it,  and  make 
it  up  a  new  and  excellent  frame,  and  may 
impres.s  his  own  image  on  it,  and  make  it 
holy,  and  so  like  to  himself. 

Lc;  us  then  give  him  ourselves,  or  nothing; 
and  to  give  ourselves  to  him,  is  not  his  ad- 
vantage, but  ours.  As  the  philosopher  said 
to  his  poor  scholar,  who,  when  others  gave 
him  great*  gifts,  told  him,  lie  had  nothing  hut 
himself  to  give  :  It  is  well,  said  he,  and  I 
will  endeavor  to  give  ihee  hack  to  ihijself,  bet- 
ter than  I  received  thee  ;  thus  doth  God  with 
us,  and  thus  doth  a  Christian  make  himself 
his  daily  sacrifice  :  he  renews  this  gift  of 
himself  every  day  to  God,  and  receiving  it 
every  day  beitered  again,  still  he  hath  the 
more  delight  in  giving  it  as  being  fitter  for 
God,  the  more  it  is  sanctihed  by  former  sac- 
rificins:. 

Now  that  whereby  we  offer  all  other  spir- 
itual sacrifices,  and  even  ourselves,  is  love. 
That  is  the  holy  fire  that  burns  up  all,  sends 
up  our  prayers,  and  our  hearts,  and  our 
whole  selves  a  whole  burni-offering  to  God  ; 
and,  as  the  fire  i)f  the  nl.ar,  it  is  originally 
from  Heaven,  being  kindled  by  God's  own 
love  to  us:  and  by  this  the  church  (and  so 
each  believer)  ascends  like  a  straight  pillar 
oy  smoke  (as  the  word  is.  Cant.  iii.  fi),  going 
even  U[)  to  God  perjum.rd  with  aloes  and  all 
the  spiers,  all  the  graces  of  the  Spirit  received 
from  Chriit,  but  above  all,  with  his  own 
merits. 


How  far  from  this  are  the  common  multi- 
tude of  us,  though  professing  to  be  Chris- 
tians !  Who  considers  his  holy  calling  ?  As 
the  peculiar  holiness  of  the  ministry  should 
be  much  in  their  eye  and  thoughts  who  are 
called  to  it,  as  they  should  study  to  be  answer- 
ably  eminent  in  holiness,  so,  all  you  that  are 
Christians,  consider,  you  are  priests  unto  God  : 
being  called  a  holy  priesthood,  thus  you  ought 
to  be.  But  if  we  speak  what  we  are  indeed, 
we  must  say  rather,  we  are  an  unholy  priest- 
hood, a  shame  to  that  name  and  holy  profes- 
sion. Instead  of  the  sacrifice  of  a  godly  life, 
and  the  incense  of  prayer  and  praise,  in  fam- 
ilies and  alone,  what  is  therewith  many,  but 
the  filthy  vapors  of  profane  sjieaking  and  a 
profane  life,  as  a  noisome  smell  arising  out 
of  a  dunghill  ? 

But  you  that  have  once  offered  up  your- 
selves unto  God,  and  are  still  doing  so  with 
all  the  services  you  can  reach,  continue  to 
do  so,  and  be  assured,  that  how  unworthy 
soever  yourselves  and  all  your  offerings  be 
yet  they  shall  not  be  rejected. 

The  -Sd  thing  here  observable  is,  the  suc- 
cess of  that  service :  Acceptable  to  God  by 
Jesus  Christ,  Heb.  xiii.  16.  The  children  of 
God  do  delight  in  otfering  sacrifices  to  him  ; 
but  if  they  might  not  know  that  they  were 
well  taken  at  their  hands,  this  would  dis- 
courage them  much  :  therefore  this  is  added. 
How  often  do  the  godly  find  it  in  their  sweet 
experience,  that  when  they  come  to  pray,  he 
welcomes  them,  and  gives  them  such  evi- 
denci^s  of  his  love,  as  they  would  not  ex- 
change for  all  worldly  pleasures  !  And  when 
this  doth  not  so  presently  appear  at  other 
times,  yet  they  ought  to  believe  it.  lie  ac- 
cepts themselves  and  their  ways  when  offered 
in  sincerity,  though  never  so  mean  ;  though 
they  sometimes  have  no  more  than  a  sigh  or 
a  groan,  it  is  most  properly  a  spiritual  sac- 
rifice. 

Stay  not  away  because  thou,  and  the  gifts 
thou  offerest,  are  inferior  to  the  otfering  of 
others.  No,  none  are  excluded  fiir  that  ;  only 
give  what  thou  hast,  and  act  with  all'eciion, 
for  that  he  regards  most.  Under  the  law, 
thev  who  had  not  a  lamb,  were  welcome 
witli  a  pair  of  ])igeons.  So  that  the  Chris- 
tian may  say  :  What  J  am,  Lord,  I  offer  my- 
self unto  thee,  to  he  xoholly  thine  ;  and  had  1 
a  thousand  times  more  of  outirard  or  inward 
gifts,  all  should  be  thine  ;  had  I  a  greater 
estate,  or  wit,  or  learning,  or  power,  I  would 
endeavor  to  serve  thee  with  all.  What  1 
have,  I  offer  thee,  and  it  is  most  truly  thine  ; 
it  is  hut  of  thy  own  that  I  give  thee.  No 
one  needs  forbear  sacrifice  for  poverty,  for 
what  God  desires,  is,  the  heart,  and  there  is 
none  so  poor,  but  hath  a  heart  to  give  him. 

But  meanness  is  not  all  ;  there  is  guiltiness 
on  ourselves  and  on  all  we  offer  ;  our  prayers 
and  services  are  polluted.  Bui  this  hinders 
not  neither  ;  for  our  acceptance  is  not  for 
ourselves,  but  for  the  sake  of  one  who  hath 
no  guiltiness  at  all  :    Acceptable  by  Jesus 


14C 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  11, 


Christ.    In  him,  our  persons  arc  clothed  | 
with  rigliieousiiL'ss,  and  in  iiis  clotliing,  wc 
arc,  as  Isaac  said  of  Jacob  in  his  brotiicr's  i 
garnicnts,  as  the  sincU  of  a  field  that  the  Lord 
hath  lilrsst  d,  Gen.  xxvii.  21.    And  all  our  [ 
other  sacrifices,  our  jjrayers,  and  services,  if  | 
we  oiler  them  by  him,  and  put  them  into  his  j 
hand,  to  olTer  to  the  Father,  then  doubt  not 
they  will  be  accepted  in  him  ;  for  tliis  by  Je-  j 
sus  Chri.sl,  is  relative  both  to  our  ottering  and 
our  acceptance.    We  ought  not  to  ofi'er  any- 
thing but  /if/  him,  Heb.  xiii.  15  ;  and  so,  we 
are  well-pleasing  to  the  Father.    For  he  is 
his  well-beloved  Son,  in  whom  his  soul  is  de- 
lighted ;  not  only  delighted  and  pleased  with 
liimself  but  in  him,  with  all  things  and  per- 
sons that  appear  in  him,  and  are  presented 
by  him. 

And  this  alone  answers  all  our  doubts. 
For  we  ourselves,  as  little  as  we  see  that 
way,  yet  may  see  so  much  in  our  best  ser- 
vices, so  many  wanderings  in  prayer,  so  much 
deadness,  ice,  as  would  make  us  still  doubt- 
ful of  acceptance  so  that  we  might  say  with 
Job,  Although  he  had  answered  me,  yet  would 
I  not  believe  that  he  had  hearkened  to  me  : 
were  it  not  for  this,  that  our  prayers  and  all 
our  sacrifices  pass  through  Christ's  hand.  He 
is  that  nm^cl  that  hath  mnch  sweet  odors,  to 
mingle  with  the  prayers  of  the  saints.  Rev. 
viii.  3,  4.  He  purities  them  with  his  own 
merits  and  intercession,  and  so  makes  them 
pleasing  unto  the  Father.  How  ought  our 
hearts  to  be  knit  to  him,  by  whom  we  are 
brought  into  favor  with  God,  and  kept  in  fa- 
vor with  him,  in  whom  we  obtain  all  the 
good  we  receive,  and  in  whom  all  we  ofler  is 
accepted  !  In  him  are  all  our  supplies  of 
grace,  and  our  hopes  of  glory. 

Ver.  6.  Wherefore  also  it  is  contained  in  the  Scrip- 
ture ;  Behold  I  lay  in  Sion  a  chief  corner-stone, 
elect,  precious  :  and  he  that  believeth  on  him  shall 
not  bo  confounded. 

That  which  is  the  chief  of  the  works  of 
God,  is  therefore  very  reasonably  the  chief 
subject  of  his  word,  as  both  most  excellent 
in  itself,  and  of  most  concernment  for  us  to 
know  :  anil  this  is,  the  saving  of  lost  man- 
kind by  his  Son.  Therefore  is  his  name 
as  precious  ointment,  or  perfume,  diffused 
through  the  whole  Scripture  :  all  these  holy 
leaves  smell  of  it,  not  only  those  that  were 
written  after  his  coming,  but  those  that  were 
written  before.  Search  the  Scrijitvres,  says 
he  himself, /or  they  testify  of  me  (John  v. 
39),  namely,  the  scriptures  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, which  were  alone  then  written  ;  and 
to  evidence  this,  both  himself  and  his  apos- 
tles make  so  frequent  use  of  their  testimony, 
and  we  find  so  much  of  them  inserted  into  1 
the  New,  as  being  both  one  in  substance; 
.heir  lines  meeting  in  the  same  Jesus  Christ 
as  their  centre. 

The  ajxjstle  having,  in  the  foregoing  verse,  ' 
exj)ressed  the  happy  estate  and  dignity  of  1 
Christians  under  the  double  notion,  1.  of  a  , 


spiritual  house  or  temple;  2,  of  ^  spiritual 
priesthood — here  amidifies  and  cadirms  both 
from  the  writings  of  the  prophets;  the  for- 
mer, verses  C,  7,  8  ;  the  latter,  verse  9.  The 
places  that  he  cites  touching  this  building, 
are  most  pertinent,  for  they  have  clearly  in 
them  all  that  he  spoke  of  it,  both  concerning 
the  foundation  and  the  edilice  ;  as  the  first, 
in  these  words  of  Isaiah(chap.  xxviii.  16), 
Behold  I  la  y  in  Sion  a  chief  corner-stone,  &c. 

Let  this  commend  the  Scrip' ures  much  to 
our  diligence  and  afl'ection,  that  tiieir  great 
theme  is,  our  Redeemer,  and  redemption 
wrought  by  him  ;  that  they  contain  the  doc- 
trine of  his  excellences — are  the  lively  pic- 
ture of  his  matchless  beauty.  Were  we 
more  in  them,  we  should  daily  see  more  of 
him  in  them,  and  so  of  necessity  love  him 
more.  But  we  must  look  withi^i  them  :  the 
letter  is  but  the  case  ;  the  spiritual  sense  is 
what  we  should  desire  to  see.  We  usually 
huddle  them  over,  and  see  no  further  than 
their  outride, and  therefore  find  so  little  sweet- 
ness in  them:  we  read  them,  bttt  we  search 
them  not,  as  he  requires.  Would  we  dig 
into  those  golden  mines,  we  should  find  trea- 
sures of  comfort  that  can  not  be  S[)ent,  but 
which  would  furnish  us  in  the  hardest  times. 

The  prophecy  here  cited,  if  we  look  upon 
it  in  its  OAvn  place,  we  shall  find  inserted  in 
the  middle  of  a  very  sad  denunciation  of  judg- 
ment again  the  Jews.  And  this  is  usual  with 
the  prophets,  particularly  with  this  evangeli- 
cal prophet  Isaiah,  to  uphold  the  spirits  of  the 
godly,  in  the  worst  times,  with  this  one  great 
consolation,  the  promise  of  the  Messiah,  as 
weighing  down  all,  alike  temporal  distresses 
and  deliverances.  Hence  are  those  sudden 
ascents  (so  frequent  in  the  projihets)  from 
their  present  subject  to  this  great  hove  of 
Israel.  And  if  this  expectation  of  a  Savior 
was  so  pertinent  a  comfort  in  all  estates,  so 
many  ages  before  the  accomplishnjent  of  it, 
how  wrongfully  do  we  undervalue  it  being 
accomplished,  if  we  can  not  live  upon  it,  and 
answer  all  with  it,  and  sweeten  all  our  griefs, 
with  this  advantage,  that  there  is  a  founda- 
tion-stone laid  in  Sion,  on  which  they  tnat 
are  builded  shall  be  sure  not  to  be  ashamed  . 

In  these  words  there  are  five  things,  1.  This 
foundation-stone  ;  2.  The  laying  of  it  ;  3.  'I'he 
building  on  it ;  4.  The  firmness  of  this  buil- 
ding ;  And  5.  The  greatness  and  excellency 
of  the  work. 

1.'!/,  For  the  foundation,  called  here,  a  chief 
corner-stone.  Though  the  prophet's  words 
are  not  precisely  rendered,  yet  the  substance 
and  sense  of  them  are  the  same.  In  Isaiah, 
both  expressions,  a  foundation  and  a  corner- 
stone, are  employed  (chap,  xxviii.  16),  the 
corner-stone  in  the  foundation  being  the  main 
support  of  the  building,  and  throughout,  the 
corner-stones  uniting  and  knitting  the  bulla 
ing  together  :  and  therefore  the  same  word, 
a  carrier,  is  frequently  taken  in  Scripture  for 
■princes,  or  heads  of  people  (see  Judg.  xx.  2  ; 
1  Sam.  xiv.  38),  because  good  governers  and 


Ver.  6.  J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


14. 


goveiumentare  that  which  upholds  and  unites 
the  societies  of  people  in  states  or  kingdoms 
as  on3  building.  And  Jesus  Christ  is  indeed 
the  alone  head  and  king  of  his  church,  who 
gives  it  laws,  and  rules  it  in  wisdom  and 
righteousness;  the  alone  rock  on  which  his 
church  is  built  ;  not  Peter  (if  we  will  believe 
St.  Piter  himself,  as  here  he  teacheih  us), 
much  less  his  pretended  successors  ;  He  is 
the  foundation  and  corner-stone  that  knits 
together  the  walls  of  Jews  and  Gentiles, 
havino-  made  of  both  one,  as  St.  Paul  speaks 
(Eph.  ii.  14),  and  unites  the  whole  number 
of  believers  into  one  everlasting  temple,  and 
bears  the  weight  of  the  whole  fabric. 

Elected]  or  chosen  out  for  the  purpose,  and 
altogether  fit  for  it.  Isaiah  hath  it,  .4  stone 
of  trial,  or  a  tried  stone,  as  things  among 
men  are  best  chosen  after  trial.  So,  Jesus 
Christ  was  certainly  known  by  the  Father, 
as  most  (it  for  that  work  to  which  he  chose 
him  before  he  tried  him,  as  after,  upon  trial 
in  his  life,  and  death,  and  resurrection,  he 
proved  fully  answerable  to  his  Father's  pur- 
pose, in  all  that  was  appointed  him. 

All  the  strength  of  angels  combined,  had 
not  sufficed  for  that  business  ;  but  the  wise 
archiicct  of  this  building  knew  both  what  it 
would  cost,  and  what  a  foundation  was  need- 
ful to  bear  so  jreat  and  so  lasting  a  structure 
as  he  intended.  Sin  having  defaced  and 
demolished  the  first  building  of  man  in  the 
integrity  of  his  creation,  it  was  God's  design, 
out  of  the  very  ruins  of  fallen  man,  to  raise  a 
more  lasting  edifice  than  tlie  former,  one  that 
should  not  be  subject  to  decay,  and  therefore 
he  fined  for  it  a  foundation  that  mi:rht  be 
everlasting.  The  sure  fouijding  is  the  main 
thing  requisite  in  order  to  a  lasting  building; 
therefore,  that  it  might  stand  for  the  true 
honor  of  his  majesty  (which  Nebuchadnez- 
zar vainly  boasted  of  his  Babel),  he  chose 
his  own  Son,  made  flesh.  He  was  God,  that 
he  might  be  a  strong  foundation  ;  he  was 
man,  that  he  might  be  suitable  to  the  nature 
of  the  stones  whereof  the  building  was  to 
consist,  that  they  might  join  the  cement  to- 
gether. 

Prei  iousA  Inestimably  precious,  by  all  the 
conditions  that  can  give  worth  to  any;  by 
rareness,  and  by  inward  excellency,  and  by 
useful  virtues.    Rare  he  is,  out  of  doubt  ; 
there  is  not  such  a  person  in  the  world  again  ; 
therefore  he  is  called  by  the  same  prophet 
(Isa.  ix.  6),  wonderful,  full  of  wonders: — the 
power  of  God  and  the  frailty  of  man  dwelling 
together  in  his  person;  the  ancient  of  days 
becoming  an  infant ;  he  that  stretched  forth 
the  heavens,  bound  up  in  swaddling  clothes 
in  that  his  infancy,  and  in  his  full  age  stretch- ' 
ed  forth  on  the  cross ;  altogether  spotless  and 
innocent,  and  yet  suffering  not  only  the  un- 
just cruelties  of  men,  but  the  just  wrath  of  ' 
God  his  Father  ;  the  Lord  of  life,  and  yet ' 
dying  ;  his  excellency  appears  in  the  same  j 
things,  in  that  he  is  the  Lord  of  life,  God 
Uessed  for  ever,  equal  with  the  Father  :  the  , 


sparkling  brightness  of  t.iis  precious  stone  is 
no  less  than  this,  that  he  is  the  bri'^htness  of 
the  Father  s  glory  (Heb.  i.  3)  ;  so  bright,  that 
men  could  not  have  beheld  him  appearing  in 
himself ;  therefore  he  veiled  it  with  our  flesh  ; 
and  yet,  through  that  it  shined  and  sparkled 
so,  that  the  Apostle  Si.  John  says  of  himself 
and  of  those  others  who  had  their  eyes  open- 
ed, and  looked  right  upon  him,  he  dwelt 
among^  us,  and  he  had  a  tent  like  ours,  and 
yet,  through  that  we  saw  his  glory,  as  the 
glory  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God,  full 
of  grace  and  truth  (John  i.  14), — the  Deity 
filling  his  human  nature  with  all  manner  of 
grace  in  its  highest  perfection.  And  Christ 
is  not  only  thus  excellent  in  himself",  but  of 
precious  virtue,  which  he  lets  forth  and  im- 
parls to  others  ;  of  such  virtue,  that  a  touch 
of  him  is  the  only  cure  of  spiritual  diseases. 
Men  tell  of  strange  virtues  of  some  stones  ; 
but  it  is  certain  that  this  precious  stone  hath 
not  only  virtue  to  heal  the  sick,  but  even  to 
raise  the  dead.  Dead  bodies  he  raised  in  the 
days  of  his  abode  on  earth,  and  dead  souls  he 
still  doth  raise  by  the  power  of  his  word.  The 
prophet  Malachi  calls  him  the  Sun  of  Righte- 
ousness (ch.  iv.  2),  which  includes  in  it  the 
rareness  and  excellency  we  speak  of:  he  is 
singular  ;  as  there  is  but  one  Sun  in  the  world, 
so  but  one  Savior :  and  his  lustre  is  such  a 
stone  as  outshines  the  sun  in  its  fullest  bright- 
ness. And  then,  for  his  useful  virtue,  the 
Prophet  adds,  that  he  hath  healin'r  under  his 
itings.  This  his  worth  is  unspeakable,  and 
remains  infinitely  beyond  all  these  resem- 
blances. 

2dly,  There  is  here  the  laying  of  this  foua- 
dation  :  it  is  said  to  be  laid  in  Sion  ;  that  is, 
it  is  laid  in  the  church  of  God.  And  it  was 
first  laid  in  Sion,  literally,  that  being  *h  -i 
the  seat  of  the  church  and  of  the  true  religion  : 
he  was  laid  there,  in  his  manifestation  in  the 
flesh,  and  suffering  and  dying,  and  rising 
again ;  and  afterward,  being  preached  through 
the  world,  he  became  the  foundation  of  his 
church  in  all  places  where  his  name  was  re- 
ceived ;  and  so  was  a  stone  growing  great, 
till  it  filled  the  whole  earth,  as  Daniel  hath  it, 
ch.  ii. 

He  saith,  /  lay ;  by  which  the  Lord  ex 
presseth  this  to  he  his  own  projjcr  work,  as 
the  psalmist  speaks  of  the  same  subject  (Psal. 
cxviii.  23).  This  is  the  Lord's  doing  ;  and 
it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes.  So  Isaiah,  speak- 
ing of  this  promised  Messiah,  The  zenl  of 
the  Lord  of  Hosts  will  ■perform  this,  ch.  ix.  7. 

And  it  is  not  only  said,  I  lay  ;  because  God 
the  Father  had  the  first  thought  of  this  great 
work — the  model  of  it  was  in  his  mind  from 
eternity,  and  the  accomplishment  of  it  was 
by  his  almighty  power  in  the  morning  of  his 
his  Son's  birtli,  and  his  life,  and  death,  and 
resurrection  ;  but  also  to  signify  the  freeness 
of  his  grace,  in  giving  his  Son  to  be  a  founda- 
tion of  happiness  to  man,  without  the  least 
motion  from  man,  or  motive  in  man  to  draw 
him  to  it.    And  this  seems  to  be  signified  by 


142 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LCifAP.  II. 


.he  unexpected  inserlin<j  of  these  prophetical 
promises  of  tiu-  Messiah,  in  the  midst  of  com- 
plaints of  the  people's  wickedness,  and  ihreat- 
eiiin<i  them  with  punishnieut  ;  to  intimate 
thai  there  is  no  connexion  hetween  this  work 
and  aiiyihiiiij  on  man's  part  to  procure  it :  ij.  d. 
Alihourfh  you  do  thus  provoke  me  to  destroy 
you,  yet,  of  mysell'  I  have  other  thoughts, 
there  is  another  purpose  in  my  mind.  And 
It  is  ohservahle  to  this  purpose,  that  that 
clearest  promise  of  the  virgin's  Son  is  given, 
not  only  unrequired,  but  being  refused  by 
that  profane  king  Ahaz,  Isa.  vii.  10-13. 

This,  again,  that  ihe  Lord  himself  is  the 
layer  of  this  corner-stone,  teaches  us  the  firm- 
ness of  it  ;  which  is  likewise  expressed  in 
the  prophet's  words,  very  emphatically,  by 
redoubling  the  same  word,  Musad,  Musad  : 
fundamcniuin,  fundainentuin. 

So,  Psal.  ii.  6,7  have  .set  my  Avwg  upon  my 
holy  hill  of  Sion  : — who  then  shall  dethrone 
him  ?  I  have  given  him  the  heathen  for  his 
inheritance,  and  the  ends  of  the  earth  for  his 
j)ossession  ;  and  who  will  hinder  him  to  take 
possession  of  his  right  ?  If  any  offer  to  do 
so,  what  shall  they  be,  but  a  number  of 
earthern  vessels  fighting  against  an  iron 
sceptre,  and  so,  certainly  breaking  them- 
selves in  pieces  ?  Thus  here,  I  lay  this 
foundation-stone  ;  and  if  I  lay  it,  who  shall 
remove  it?  and  wlial  I  build  upon  it,  who 
shall  be  able  to  cast  down  ?  For  it  is  the 
glory  of  this  great  master-builder,  that  the 
whole  fabric  which  is  of  his  building  can  not 
be  ruined  :  and  for  that  end  hath  he  laid  an 
unmoveable  foundation  :  and  for  that  end  are 
we  taught  and  reminded  of  its  firmness,  that 
we  riiav  have  this  confidence  concerning  the 
Church  of  God  tliat  is  built  upon  it.  To  the 
eye  of  nature,  the  church  stems  to  have  no 
foundation  :  as  Job  speaks  of  the  earth,  that 
it  is  hung  upon  nothing,  and  yet,  as  the 
earth  remaineth  firm,  being  established  in  its 
place  by  the  word  and  power  of  God,  the 
church  is  most  firmly  founded  upon  xheword 
made  flesh — Jesus  Christ  as  its  chief  corner- 
stone. And  as  all  the  winds  that  blow  can 
not  remove  the  earth  out  of  its  place,  so  nei- 
ther can  all  the  attempts  of  men,  no,  nor  of 
the  gates  of  hell,  prevail  against  the  church, 
JVlatt.  xvi.  18.  It  may  be  beaten  with  very 
boisterous  storms,  hut  it  can  not  fall,  because 
it  is  founded  upon  this  Rock,  Matt.  vii.  25. 
Thus  it  is  with  ihe  whole  house,  and  thus 
with  every  stone  in  it;  as  here  it  follows, //e 
that  helieveth  shall  not  he  confounded. 

2dly,  There  is  next,  the  huilding  on  this 
foundation.  To  be  built  on  Christ,  is  plainly 
to  believe  in  him.  But  in  this  they  most  de- 
ceive themselves ;  they  hear  of  great  privi- 
leges and  happiness  in  Christ,  and  presently 
."magine  it  as  all  theirs,  without  any  more 
ado  ;  as  that  mad  man  of  Athens,  who  wrote 
up  all  the  ships  that  came  into  the  haven  for 
his  own.  We  consider  not  what  it  is  to  be- 
lieve in  him,  nor  what  is  the  necessity  of  this 
believing  in  order  that  we  may  be  partakers 


of  the  salvation  that  he  hath  wrought.  It  is 
not  they  that  have  heard  of  him, or  that  have 
some  common  knowledge  of  him,  or  that 
are  able  to  discourse  of  him,  and  speak  of  his 
person  and  nature  aright,  but  thvi/  that  be- 
lieve in  him.  Much  of  our  knowledge  is  like 
that  of  tlie  poor  philosopher,  who  defineth 
riches  exactly,  and  discourselh  of  their  na- 
ture, but  possesseih  none  ;  or  we  are  as  a  ge- 
ometrician, who  can  measure  land  exactly  in 
all  its  dimensions,  but  possesseth  not  a  foot 
thereof.  And  truly  it  is  but  a  lifeless  unsa- 
vory knowledge  that  men  have  of  Christ  by 
all  books  and  study,  till  he  reveal  himself 

j  and  persuade  the  heart  to  believe  in  him. 

'  Then,  indeed,  when  it  sees  him,  and  is  made 

'  one  with  him,  it  says  of  all  the  rei)ons  it 
heard,  I  heard  much,  yet  the  half  was  not 
told  me.  There  is  in  lively  faith,  when  it  is 
infused  into  the  st:ul,  a  clearer  knowledge  of 
Christ  and  his  excellency  than  before,  and 
with  it,  a  recumbency  of  the  soul  upon  him 
as  the  foundation  of  its  life  and  comfort  ;  a 
resolving  to  rest  on  him,  and  not  to  depart 
from  him  upon  any  terms.  Though  I  be  be- 
set on  all  hands,  be  accused  by  the  law,  and 
by  mine  own  conscience,  and  by  Satan,  and 
have  nothing  to  answer  for  myself,  yet,  here 
I  will  stay,  for  I  am  sure  in  him  there  is  sal- 
vation, and  nowhere  else.  All  other  refuges 
are  but  lies  (as  it  is  expressed  in  the  words 
before  these  in  the  prophet),  poor  base  shifts 
that  will  do  no  good.    God  hath  laid  this 

1  precious  stone  in  Sion,  for  this  very  purpose, 

]  that  weary  souls  may  rest  upon  it;  and  why 
should  not  I  make  use  of  i'  according  to  his 
intention  ?  He  hath  not  forbid  any,  how 
wretched  soever,  to  believe,  but  commands 
it,  and  himself  works  it  where  he  will,  even 
in  the  vilest  sinners. 

Think  it  not  enough  that  you  know  this 
stone  is  laid,  but  see  wheiher  you  are  built 
on  it  by  faith.  The  multitude  of  imaginary 
believers  lie  round  about  it,  but  they  are 
never  the  better  nor  the  surer  for  that,  any 
more  than  stones  that  lie  loose  in  heaps  near 
unto  a  foundation,  but  are  not  joined  to  it. 
There  is  no  benefit  to  us  by  Christ,  without 
union  with  him  ;  no  comfort  in  his  riches, 
without  an  interest  in  them,  and  a  title  to 
them,  by  virtue  of  that  union.  Then  is  the 
soul  right  when  it  can  say,  He  4s  altogether 
lovely,  and  as  the  Spouse  (Cant.  iii.  16),  He 
is  mine,  mi/  wcll-heloved.  This  union  is  the 
spring  of  all  spiritual  consolations.  And  faith, 
by  wiiich  we  are  thus  united,  is  a  Divine  work 
He  that  laid  this  foundation  in  Sion  with  his 
own  hand,  works  likewise,  with  the  same 
hand,  faiih  in  the  heart,  by  which  it  is  knit 
to  this  corner-stone.  It  is  not  easy  as  we 
imagine,  to  believe.  See  Eph.  i.  19.  Many 
that  think  they  believe,  are,  on  the  contrary, 
like  those  of  whom  the  prophet  there  speaKS, 
as  hnrdene\\  in  sin  and  carnally  secure,  whom 

1  he  represents  as  in  covenan'  with  hell  and 
death,  walking  in  sin,  and  yet  promis'ng 

I  themselves  impunity. 


Ver.  6  1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


143 


Uhhj  There  is  the  firmness  dl  this  Build- 
ing, nai  iely,  He  that  believeth  on  him  shall 
not  be  cmfounilcd.  This  firmness  is  answer- 
able to  the  nature  of  the  foundation.  Not 
only  the  whole  frame,  but  every  stone  of  it 
abideth  5ure.  It  is  a  simple  mistake,  to  judge 
the  persuasion  of  perseverance  to  be  self-pre- 
sumption :  they  that  have  it,  are  far  from 
building  it  on  themselves,  but  their  foundation 
is  that  which  makes  them  sure  ;  because  it 
doth  net  only  remain  firm  itself,  but  indisso- 
lubly  supports  all  that  are  once  built  on  it. 
In  the  prophet,  whence  this  is  cited,  it  is. 
Shall  not  make  haste,  but  the  sense  is  one  : 
they  that  are  disappomted  and  ashamed  in 
.heir  hopes,  run  to  and  fro,  and  seek  after 
lome  new  resource  ;  this  they  shall  not  need 
;o  do,  who  come  to  Christ.  The  believing 
soul  makes  haste  to  Christ,  but  it  never  finds 
cause  to  hasten  from  him  ;  and  though  the 
comfort  it  expects  and  longs  for,  be  for  a  time 
deferred,  yet  it  gives  not  over,  knowing  that 
in  due  time  it  shall  rejoice,  and  shall  not 
have  cause  to  blush  and  think  shame  of  its 
confidence  in  him.  David  expresseth  tliis 
distrust,  by  making  haste,  Psal.  xxxi.  22  ;  and 
cxvi.  11:7  luas  too  hasty  when  I  said  so. 
Hopes  frustrated,  especially  where  they  have 
been  rai.sed  high,  and  continued  long,  do  re- 
proach men  with  folly,  and  so  shame  them. 
And  thus  do  all  earthly  hopes  serve  us  wiien 
we  lean  much  upon  them.  We  find  usually 
those  things  that  have  promised  us  most  con- 
tent pay  us  with  vexation  ;  and  they  not  only 
prove  broken  reeds,  deceiving  our  trust,  but 
hurtful,  running  their  broken  splinters  into 
our  hand  who  leaned  on  them.  This  sure 
Foundation  is  laid  for  us,  that  our  souls  may 
be  established  on  it,  and  be  as  Mount  Sion 
that  can  not  he  removed,  Psal.  cxxv.  1.  Such 
times  may  come  as  will  shake  all  other  sup- 
ports, but  this  holds  out  against  all,  Ps.  xlvi. 
2  :  Though  the  earth  be  removed,  yet  will  not 
we  fear.  Thuugli  the  frame  of  the  world 
wear  cracking  about  a  man's  ears,  he  may 
here  it  unafTrighted  wlio  is  built  on  this  foun- 
dation. Why  then  do  we  choose  to  build 
upon  the  sand  ?  Believe  it,  wheresoever  we 
lay  our  confidence  and  afiection  beside  Christ, 
it  sliall  sooner  or  hiter  repent  us  and  shame 
us  ;  either  ha[)i)ily  in  lime,  while  we  may  yet 
change  them  lor  hitn,  and  have  recourse  to 
him  ;  or  miserably,  when  it  is  too  late.  Re- 
member tha ,  we  must  die  and  must  appear 
before  the  judgment-seat  of  God,  and  that 
the  things  we  doat  on  here,  have  neither 
power  to  stay  us  liere,  nor  have  we  power  to 
take  them  along  with  us,  nor,  if  we  could, 
would  they  at  all  profit  us  there  ;  and  there- 
fore, when  we  look  back  upon  them  all  at 
parting,  we  shall  wonder  what  fools  we  were 
to  make  so  poor  a  choice.  And  in  that  great 
day  oJierein  all  faces  shall  'gather  blackness  I 
(Joel  ii.  G),  and  be  filled  with  confusion,  that  i 
have  ne:,'lected  to  make  Christ  their  stay 
when  he  was  offered  them,  then  it  shall  ap-  j 
pear  how  haypy  they  are  who  have  trusted  , 


in  him  ;  They  shall  not  be  con  ounded,  lut 
shall  lift  up  their  faces,  and  be  acquitted  in 
him.  In  their  present  estate  they  may  be  ex- 
ercised, but  then  they  shall  not  be  confounded, 
nor  ashamed — there  is  a  double  negation  in 
the  original — by  no  means  ;  they  shall  he  more 
than  conquerors,  through  him  who  hath  loved 
them.  Rom.  viii.  37. 

othly.  The  last  thing  observable  is,  the 
greatness  and  excellency  of  the  work,  inti- 
mated in  that  first  word.  Behold,  which  im- 
ports this  work  to  be  very  remarkable,  and 
calls  the  eyes  to  fix  upon  it. 

The  Lord  is  marvellous  in  the  least  of  his 
works  ;  but  in  this  he  hath  manifested  more 
of  his  wisdom  and  power,  and  let  out  more 
of  his  love  to  mankind,  than  in  all  the  rest. 
Yet  we  are  foolish,  and  cliildishly  gaze  about 
us  upon  trifles,  and  let  this  ^reat  work  pass 
unregarded  ;  we  scarcely  afford  it  half  an  eye. 
Turn  your  wandering  eyes  this  way  :  look 
upon  this  Precious  Stone,  and  behold  him, 
not  in  mere  speculation,  but  so  behold  him  as 
to  lay  hold  on  him.  For  we  see  he  is  there- 
fore here  set  forth,  that  we  may  believe  on 
him,  and  so  not  he  confounded  ;  that  we  may 
attain  this  blessed  union,  that  can  not  be  dis- 
solved. All  other  unions  are  dissoluble:  a 
man  may  be  plucked  from  his  dwelling-house 
and  lands,  or  they  from  him,  thouuh  he  have 
never  so  good  a  title  lo  ihem;  may  be  re- 
moved from  his  dearest  friends,  the  husband 
from  the  wife,  if  not  by  oiher  accidents  in 
iheir  lifetime,  yet  sure  by  death,  the  great 
dissolver  of  all  thcjse  unions,  and  of  th;U  strait- 
est  one,  of  the  soul  with  tlie  l)ody  ;  but  it  can 
do  nothing  against  this  union,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, perfects  it.  For  I  am  persuaded,  says 
St.  Paul,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  an- 
gels, nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor 
depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able 
to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which 
is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  Romans  viii. 
38,  39. 

Tfiere  is  a  twofold  mistake  concerning 
faith  :  on  the  one  side,  they  that  are  altogeth- 
er void  of  it,  abusing  and  flattering  themselves 
in  a  vain  opinion  that  tiicy  have  it  ;  and,  on 
the  other  side,  they  that  have  it,  misjudging 
their  own  condition,  and  so  depriving  them- 
selves of  much  comfort  and  sweetness  that 
they  might  find  in  their  believing. 

The  former  is  the  worse,  and  yet  by  far  the 
commoner  evil.  What  one  says  of  wisdom, 
is  true  of  faith  :  Many  would  seek  after  it, 
and  attain  it,  if  they  did  not  falsely  imagine 
that  they  have  attained  it  ahead  if.*  There 
is  nothing  more  contrary  to  the  lively  nature 
of  faith,  than  for  the  soul  not  to  be  at  all  bu- 
sied with  the  thoughts  of  its  own  s])irituai 
condition,  and  yet  this  very  character  (jf  un- 
belief passes  with  a  great  manv  for  believing. 
They  doubt  not,  that  is,  indeed  they  consider 

•  Piito  mnlto'!,  pntiiisso  ad  sapipiitiam  ppr\pnire 
nisi  piitassent  se  jail  pcrvenisse. — Seneca.  De  Tran 
quillitate. 


144 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


lChap.  II. 


not  what  tney  are  :  their  minds  are  not  at  all 
on  ilu'sc  thiiiiis — are  not  awakened  to  seek 
diligently  alter  Jesus,  so  as  not  to  rest  till 
tliey  lind  him.  They  are  well  enouijh  with- 
out hnn  ;  it  sufTices  them  to  hear  there  is 
such  a  one  ;  but  they  ask  not  themselves,  "  Is 
he  mine,  or  no  V"  Surely,  if  that  be  all— not 
to  doubt— the  brutes  believe  as  well  as  they. 
It  were  better,  out  of  all  question,  to  be  lal)or- 
ing  under  doubtinsrs,  if  it  be  a  more  hopeful 
condition,  to  find  a  man  groaning  and  com- 
planiing,  than  speechless,  and  breathless,  and 
not  stirring'at  all. 

There  be  in  spiritual  doubtings  two  things  ; 
there  is  a  solicitous  care  of  the  soul  concern- 
ing its  own  estate,  and  a  diligent  inquiry  into 
it,  and  that  is  laudable,  being  a  true  work  of 
the  Spirit  of  God  :  but  the  other  thing  in  them 
is,  perplexity  and  distrust  arising  from  dark- 
ness and  weakness  in  thesoul.  Where  there 
is  a  great  deal  of  smoke,  and  no  clear  fiaine, 
ii  argues  much  moisture  in  the  matter,  yet  it 
witnesseth  certainly  that  there  is  fire  there  : 
and  therefore,  dubious  questioning  of  a  man 
concerning  himself  is  a  much  better  evidence 
than  that  senseless  deadness  which  most  take 
for  believing.  Men  that  know  nothing  in  sci- 
ences, have  no  doubts.  He  never  truly  be- 
lieved, who  was  not  made  first  sensible  and 
convmced  of  unbelief.  This  is  the  Spirit's  first 
errand  in  tiie  world,  to  convince  it  of  sin  ;  and 
ihe  sin  is  this,  that  they  believe  not,  John  xvi. 
8,  9.  If  the  faith  that  thou  hast,  grew  out  of 
thy  natural  heart  of  itself,  be  assured  it  is  but 
a  weed.  The  right  plant  of  faith  is  always 
set  by  God's  own  hand,  and  it  is  watered  and 
preserved  by  him  ;  because  exposed  to  many 
hazards,  he  watches  it  night  and  day.  Isai. 
xxvii.  3:  I  the  Lord  do  keep  it,  I  xrill  water 
it  every  moment,  lest  any  hurt  it  ;  I  will  keep 
it  night  and  day. 

Again,  how  impudent  is  it  in  the  most,  to 
pretend  they  oelieve,  while  ihey  wallow  in 
profaneness  !  If  faith  unite  the  soul  unto 
Christ,  certainly  it  puts  it  into  participation 
of  his  Spirit  ;  for  if  any  man  have  not  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his,  says  St. 
Paul.  This  faiih  in  Christbrings  us  into  com- 
munion with  God.  Now,  God  is  light,  says 
St.  John,  and  he  therefore  infers.  If  we  say  ice 
have  fellowship  with  God,  and  walk  in  dark- 
ness, we  lie,  and  do  not  the  truth,  1  John  i.  6. 
The  lie  appears  in  our  practice,  an  unsuita- 
bleness  in  our  carriage  ;  as  one  said  of  him 
that  signed  his  verse  wrong,  Fecit  soloectsmum 
manu. 

But  there  be  imaginery  believers  who  are 
a  little  more  refined,  who  live  after  a  blame- 
less, yea,  and  a  religious  maimer,  as  to  their 
outward  behavior,  and  yet  are  hut  appear- 
ances of  Christians,  have  not  the  living  work 
of  faith  within,  and  all  these  exercises  are 
dead  works  in  their  hands.  Among  these, 
some  may  have  such  motions  within  them  as 
may  deceive  themselves,  while  their  external 
deportment  deceives  others  ;  they  may  have 
some  tiansient  touches  of  desire  to  Christ, 


upon  the  unfolding  of  his  excellencies  in  the 
preaching  of  the  word,  and  upon  some  con- 
viction of  their  own  necessitv,  and  mav  con- 
ceive some  joy  upon  thoughts  of  apprehend- 
ing him  ;  and  y"et,  all  this  proves  but  a  van- 
isiiing  fancy,  an  embracing  of  a  shadow. 
And  because  men  who  are  thus  deluded  meet 
not  with  Christ  indeed,  do  not  really  find  his 
sweetness,  therefore,  within  a  while,  they  re* 
turn  to  the  pleasures  of  sin,  and  their  latter 
end  proves  worse  than  tliiir  beginning,  1  Pet. 
ii.  20.  Their  hearts  could  not  possibly  be 
steadl'ast,  because  there  was  nothing  to  fix 
them  on,  in  all  that  work  wherein  Christ  him- 
self was  wanting. 

But  the  truly  believing  soul  that  is  brought 
unto  Jesus  Christ,  and  I'astened  upon  him  by 
God's  own  hand,  abides  stayed  on  him,  and 
departs  not.  And  in  these  persons,  the  very 
belief  of  the  things  that  are  spoken  concern- 
ing Christ  in  the  gcispel,  the  persuasion  of 
Divine  truth,  is  of  a  higher  nature  than  the 
common  consent  that  is  called  historical ; 
they  have  another  knowledge  and  evidence 
of  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom,  than  natural 
men  can  have,  fliis  is  indeed  the  ground  of 
all,  the  very  thing  that  causes  a  man  to  rest 
upon  Christ,  Avhen  he  hath  a  persuasion 
wrought  in  his  heart  by  the  Spirit  of  God, 
that  Christ  is  an  able  Piedcemer,  a  sufficient 
Savior,  able  to  save  all  that  come  to  him,  Heb. 
vii.  25.  Then,  upon  this,  the  lieart  resolves 
upon  that  course :  Seeing  I  am  persuaded  of 
this,  that  whoso  believes  in  him,  shall  not  per- 
ish, but  have  evcrlastins;  life  (or  as  it  is  here, 
shall  not  be  confounded),  I  am  to  deliberate 
no  longer  :  this  is  the  thing  I  must  do,  I  must 
lay  my  soul  upon  him,  upon  one  who  is  an 
Almighty  Redeemer  :  and  it  does  so.  Now, 
these  first  actings  of  faith  have  in  themselves 
an  evidence  that  distinguishes  them  from  all 
that  is  counterfeit,  a  light  of  their  own,  by 
which  the  soul,  wherein  they  are,  may  dis- 
cern them  and  say,  "  This  is  the  right  work 
of  faith  ;"  especially  when  God  shines  upou 
the  soul,  and  clears  it  in  the  discovery  of  his 
own  work  within  it. 

And  lurther,  they  may  find  the  influence 
of  faith  upon  the  afiectionaie  purifying  them, 
as  our  apostle  says  of  it.  Acts  xv.  9.  Faith 
knits  the  heart  to  a  Holy  Head,  a  pure  Lord, 
ihe  Spring  of  purity,  and  therefore  can  not 
choose  but  make  it  pure :  it  is  a  beam  from 
Heaven,  that  raises  the  mind  to  a  heavenly 
temper.  Although  there  are  remains  of  sm 
in  a  believing  soul,  yet  it  is  a  hated,  weari- 
some guest  there.  It  exists  there,  not  as  its 
delight,  but  as  its  greatest  grief  and  malady, 
which  it  is  still  lamenting  and  complaining 
of;  it  had  rather  be  rid  of  it  than  gain  a 
world.  Thus  the  soul  is  purified  from  the 
love  of  sin. 

So  then,  where  these  are — a  spiritual  appre- 
hension of  the  promises,  a  cleaving  of  the  soul 
unto  Christ,  and  such  a  deliirht  in  him  as 
makes  sin  vile  and  distasteful,  so  that  the 
I  heart  is  set  against  it,  and,  as  the  needle 


Ver.  7,  8.J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


143 


touched  with  the  loadstone,  is  still  turned 
toward  Christ,  and  looks  at  him  in  all  estates 
— the  soul  that  is  thus  disposed,  hath  certain- 
ly interest  in  him  ;  and,  therefore,  ought  not 
to  affect  an  humor  of  doubting,  but  to  con- 
clude, that  how  unworthy  soever  in  itself,  yet 
being  in  him,  it  shall  not  be  ashamed  :  not 
only  it  shall  never  have  cause  to  think  shame 
of  him,  but  all  its  just  cause  of  sliame  in  it- 
self shall  be  taken  away  ;  it  shall  be  covered 
with  his  righteousness,  and  appear  so  before 
the  Fatlier.  Who  must  not  think,  "  If  my 
sins  were  to  be  set  in  order,  and  appear 
against  me,  how  would  my  face  be  filled  with 
shame  I  Though  there  were  no  more,  if  some 
thoughts  that  I  am  guilty  of  were  laid  to  my 
charge,  I  were  utterly  ashamed  and  undone. 
Oh  !  there  is  nothing  in  myself  but  matter  of 
shame,  but  yet,  in  Christ  there  is  more  mat- 
ter of  glorying,  who  endured  shame,  that  we 
might  not  be  ashamed.  We  can  not  distrust 
ourselves  enough,  nor  trust  enough  in  him. 
LcL  it  be  right  faith,  and  there  can  be  no  ex- 
cess in  believing.  Though  I  have  sinned 
aijainst  him,  and  abused  his  goodness,  yet  I 
will  not  leave  him  :  for  whither  should  T  go  ? 
He,  and  none  but  he,  hath  the  words  of  eter- 
nal life.  Yea,  though  he  being  so  often  of- 
fended, should  threaion  to  leave  me  to  the 
shame  of  my  own  follies,  yet  I  will  stay  by 
him,  and  wait  for  a  better  answer,  and  I 
know  I  shall  obtain  it  ;  this  assurance  being 
given  me  for  my  comfort,  that  ivhosoever  be- 
lieves in  him  shall  not  he  ashamed." 

Vf.r.  7.  I'lUo  yon,  thpreforp,  which  bolipvp,  he  is 
prfcioiis  ;  but  unto  thciTi  who  be  disobedient,  t)ie 
stone  which  tlie  builders  disallowed,  the  sanrie  is 
m.i(io  the  head  of  the  corner  ; 

Vkr.  h.  And  a  stone  of  stumbling,  and  a  rock  of  of- 
fence, even  to  them  which  stutiihle  at  the  word, 
bein^  disobedient,  whereiinto  also  they  were  ap- 
pointed. 

Bf.sipf.s  all  the  opposition  that  meets  faith 
within,  in  our  hearts,  it  hath  this  without, 
that  it  rows  against  the  great  stream  of  the 
world's  opinion  :  and  therefore  hath  need, 
especially  where  it  is  very  tender  and  weak,  to 
be  strengthened  against  that.  The  multitude 
of  unbidievers,  and  the  considerable  quality 
of  many  of  them  in  the  world,  are  continuing 
causes  of  that  very  multitude  ;  and  the  few- 
ness of  them  that  truly  believe,  doth  much 
to  the  keeping  of  them  still  few.  And  as 
:his  prejudice  prevails  with  them  that  be- 
lieve not,  so  it  may  sometimes  assault  the 
mind  of  a  believer,  when  he  thinks  how 
many,  and  many  of  them  wise  men  in  the 
world,  reject  Christ.  Whence  can  this  be  ? 
Particularly  the  believing  Jews,  to  whom  this 
epistle  is  addressed,  mi'.rht  think  it  strange, 
that  not  only  the  Gentiles,  who  were  stran- 
gers to  true  religion,  but  their  own  nation, 
that  was  the  select  people  of  God,  and  had 
the  light  of  his  f)raclcs  kept  in  among  them 
only  should  yet,  so  many  of  them,  ^ea,  and 
the  chief  of  them,  be  despisers  and  haters 
of  Jesus  Christ  ;  and  that  they  who  were 
best  versed  in  the  law,  and  so  seemed  best 
19 


able  to  judge  of  the  Messiah  foretold,  should 
have  persecuted  Christ  all  his  life,  and  at 
last  put  him  to  a  shameful  death. 

That  they  may  know  that  this  makes  noth- 
ing against  him,  nor  ought  to  invalidate  theii 
faith  at  all,  but  that  it  rather  indeed  testifies 
with  Christ,  and  so  serves  to  confirm  them 
in  believing,  the  apostle  makes  use  of  those 
prophetical  Scriptures,  which  foretell  the  un- 
belief and  contempt  with  which  the  most 
would  entertain  Christ  withal ;  as  old  Sim- 
eon speaks  of  him,  when  he  was  come,  agree- 
ably to  those  former  predictions,  that  he 
should  be  a  sign  of  contradictioji,  Luke  ii. 
.34  :  that,  as  he  was  the  promised  sign  of  sal- 
vation to  believers,  so  he  should  be  a  very 
mark  of  enmities  and  contradictions  to  the 
unbelieving  world.  The  passages  the  apos- 
tle here  useth  suit  with  his  present  discourse, 
and  with  the  words  cited  from  Isaiah  in  the 
former  verse,  continuing  the  resemblance  of 
a  cnrncr-slone  :  they  are  taken  partly  frot:; 
the  one  hundred  and  eighteenth  Psalm,  partly 
out  of  the  eighth  chapter  of  Isaiah. 

Unto  you,  ^c]  Wonder  not  that  others 
refuse  him,  but  believe  the  more  for  that,  be- 
cause you  see  the  word  to  be  true  even  i:i 
their  not  believing  of  it ;  it  is  fulfilled  and 
verified  by  their  very  rejecting  of  it  as  false. 

And  whatsoever  are  the  world's  thoughts 
concerning  Christ,  that  imports  not,  for  they 
know  him  not ;  but  you  that  do  indeed  be- 
lieve, I  dare  appeal  to  yourselves,  to  your 
own  faith  that  you  have  of  him,  whether  he 
is  not  precious  to  you,  whether  you  do  not 
really  find  him  fully  answerable  to  all  that 
is  spoken  of  him  in  the  word,  and  to  all  that 
you  have  accordingly  believed  concerning 
him. 

We  are  here  to  consider,  T.  The  opposition 
of  the  persons;  and  then,  II.  The  opposition 
of  the  things  spoken  of  them. 

I.  The  persons  are  opposed  under  the 
names  of  heliei-ers  and  disobedient ,  or  unbe- 
lievers ;  for  the  word  is  so  near,  that  it  may 
be  taken  for  unbelief,  and  it  is  by  some  so 
rendered  :  and  the  things  are  fully  as  near 
to  each  other  as  the  words  that  signify  them 
—  disobedience  and  unbelief. 

1.  Unbelief  is  itself  the  grand  disobedi- 
ence. For  this  is  the  work  of  God,  that 
which  the  gospel  mainly  commands,  that  ye 
believe,  John  vi.  29 ;  tliereforc  the  apostle 
calls  it  the  obedience  of  faith,  Rom.  i.  5. 
And  there  is  nothing  indeed  more  worthy  of 
tlie  name  of  oDedience,  than  the  subjection  of 
the  rniiul  to  receive  and  to  believe  those  BU"- 
pernaiural  truths  which  the  gospel  teaches 
concerning  Jesus  Christ ;  to  obey  so  as  to 
'  have,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  the  impression 
of  that  divine  pattern  stamped  upon  the  heart : 
to  have  the  heart  delivered  uj),  as  the  Avord 
,  there  is,  and  laid  under  it  to  receive  it,  Rom. 
vi.  17.  The  word  here  used  for  disobedienc/e 
signifies  properly  unpcrsuasion  ;  and  nothing 
can  more  properly  express  the  nature  of  un- 
belief than  that;  and  it  is  the  very  nature 


i46 


A  COMMENT  ARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap  U 


pf  our  corrupt  hearts  ;  we  are  children  of 
disohcdiciicc,  or  vnjcrsvasiblencss,  Ephes. 
ii.  2,  aliogeiluT  incredulous  toward  God,  who 
is  truth  itself,  and  ])liable  as  wax  in  Satan's 
nand,  who  works  in  such  persons  what  he 
will,  as  there  the  apostle  expresses.  They 
are  most  easy  of  belief  to  hiui,  who  is  the 
very  father  of  lies,  as  our  Savior  calls  him, 
John  viii.  44,  a  liar  and  a  murderer  from  the 
hegiitninv:,  murdering  by  lies,  as  he  did  in 
the  beginning. 

2.  Unbelief  is  radically  all  oiher  disobedi- 
ence;  for  all  flows  frimi  unbelief.  This  we 
least  of  all  are  ready  to  suspect ;  but  it  is  the 
bitter  root  of  all  that  uncodliness  that  abounds 
among  us.  A  right  and  lively  persuasion  of 
the  hetirt  concerning  Jesus  Christ,  alters  the 
whole  frame  of  it,  casts  down  its  higli  lofty 
ima vinatums,  and  brings,  not  onlv  the  out- 
ward actions,  but  the  very  thovghls  unto  the 
obedience  of  Christ.    2  Cor.  x.  5. 

II.  As  for  the  things  spoken  concerning 
these  disobedient  unbelievers,  these  two  tes- 
limonies  taken  together,  have  in  them  these 
three  things  :  1.  Their  rejection  of  Christ ; 
2.  Their  folly  :  3.  Their  misery  in  so  doing. 

1.  Their  rejection  of  Christ;  they  did  not 
receive  him,  as  the  Father  appointed  and  de- 
signed him  ;  as  the  foundation  and  chief  cor- 
Tier-sto7ie,  but  slichted  him,  and  threw  him 
by,  as  unfit  for  the  building  ;  and  this  did 
not  only  the  ignorant  multitude,  but  the //?/(/- 
ders,  they  that  professed  to  have  the  skill 
and  the  office,  or  power,  of  building — the 
doctors  of  the  law,  the  scribes  and  pharisees, 
and  chief  priests — who  thought  to  carry  the 
matter  by  the  weight  of  their  authority,  as 
overbalancing  the  belief  of  those  that  fol- 
lowed Christ.  Have  any  of  the  rulers  be- 
lieved in  him  ?  But  this  people  icho  know  not 
the  law  are  cursed.    John  vii.  48,  49. 

We  need  not  wonder  then,  that  not  only 
th '  "towers  of  the  world  are  usually  enemies 
to  Cnrist,  and  that  the  contrivers  of  policies, 
those  builders,  leave  out  Christ  in  their  build- 
ing, but  that  the  pretended  builders  of  the 
church  of  God,  though  they  use  the  name  of 
Christ,  and  serve  their  turn  with  that,  yet  re- 
iect  himself,  and  oppose  the  power  of  liis 
spiritual  kingdom.  There  may  be  wit  and 
learning,  and  much  knowledge  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, among  those  that  are  haters  of  the 
Lord  Clirist,  and  of  the  poAver  of  godliness, 
and  corrupters  of  the  worship  of  God.  It  is 
the  spirit  of  humility  and  obedience,  and 
savinjr  faith,  that  teach  men  to  esteem  Christ, 
and  build  upon  him. 

2.  But  the  vanity  and  folly  of  those  build- 
ers' opinion,  appears  in  tiiis,  that  they  are 
overpowered  by  the  great  Architect  of  the 
church  :  his  purpose  st;u)ds.  Notwithstand- 
ing their  rejection  of  Christ,  he  is  still  made 
the  head  corner-stone.  They  cast  him  away 
by  their  miscensures  and  reproaches  put  upon 
him,  and  by  giving  him  up  to  bp  crucified 
and  then  cast  into  the  grave,  causing  a  stone 
;o  be  rolled  upon  this  stone  which  they  had 


so  rejected,  that  it  might  a])pcai  no  more,  and 
so  thought  themselves  sure.  ]5ut  even  thence 
did  he  arise,  and  hecame  the  head  of  the  cor- 
ner.  The  disciples  themselves  si)ake,  you 
know,  very  doubtfully  ol' their  I'ormer  hopes: 
\Vc  believed  this  had  been  he  that  icould  have 
delivered  Israel  ;  but  he  corrected  their  mis- 
take, first  by  his  word,  showing  them  the 
true  method  of  that  great  work.  Ought  not 
Christ  to  suffer  first  these  great  things,  and 
so  enter  into  glory  ?  and  then  really,  by  ma- 
king himself  known  to  them  as  riben  from 
the  dead.  When  he  was  by  these  rejected, 
and  lay  lowest,  then  was  he  nearest  his  ex- 
altation :  as  Joseph  in  the  prison  was  nearest 
his  preferment.  And  thus  is  it  with  the  church 
of  Christ:  when  it  is  brought  to  the  lowest 
and  most  desperate  condition,  then  is  deliv- 
erance at  hand  ;  it  prospers  and  gains  in  the 
event,  by  all  the  practices  of  men  against  it. 
And  as  this  corner-stone  was  fitted  to  be 
such,  by  the  very  rejection  oi'it,  even  so  is  it 
with  the  whole  building  :  it  rises  the  higher 
the  more  men  seek  to  demolish  it. 

3.  The  unhappiness  of  them  that  believe 
not  is  expressed  in  the  other  word.  He  is  to 
them  9  stone  of  stumbling,  and  a  rock  of  of- 
fence. Because  they  will  not  be  saved  by 
him,  they  shall  stumble  and  fall,  and  be  bro- 
ken to  pieces  on  him,  as  it  is  in  Isaiah,  and 
in  the  evangelists.  But  how  is  this  ?  Is  he 
who  came  to  save,  bec-ome  a  destroyer  of 
men?  He  whose  name  is  Salvation,  jiroves 
he  destruction  to  any?  Not  he  himself:  his 
primary  and  proper  use  is  the  former,  to  be  a 
foundation  for  souls  to  build  and  rest  upon  ; 
but  they  who,  instead  of  building  up(;n  him, 
will  stumble  and  fall  on  him,  what  wonder, 
being  so  firm  a  stone,  though  they  be  brcjken 
by  their  fall!  Thus  we  see  the  mischief  of 
unbelief,  that  as  other  sins  disable  the  law, 
this  disables  the  very  gospel  to  save  us,  and 
turns  life  into  death  to  us.  And  this  is  the 
misery,  not  of  a  few,  but  of  many  in  Israel. 
Many  that  hear  of  Christ  by  tlie  preachin/j 
of  the  gospel,  shall  lament  that  ever  thev 
heard  that  sound,  and  shall  wish  to  have 
lived  and  died  without  it,  finding  so  great  an 
accession  to  tlieir  misery,  by  the  neglect  of 
so  great  salvation.  They  are  said  to  slumhle 
at  the  word  because  the  things  that  are  there- 
in testified  concerning  Christ,  they  labor  not 
to  understand  and  prize  aright  ;  but  either 
altogether  slight  them,  and  account  them 
foolishness,  or  misconceive  and  pervert  them 

The  Jews  stumbled  at  the  meanness  ol 
Christ's  birth  and  life,  and  the  ignominy  of 
his  death,  not  judging  ol'  him  according  to 
the  Scriptures  ;  and  we,  in  another  way, 
think  we  have  some  kind  of  belief  that  he  is 
the  Savior  of  the  world,  yet,  not  making  the 
Scripture  the  rule  of  our  thoughts  concerning 
him,  many  of  us  undo  ourselves,  and  stun)blc 
and  brenk  our  necks  upon  this  rock,  mista- 
king Christ  and  the  way  of  believing  ;  look- 
ing on  him  as  a  Sr.vior  at  large,  and  judging 
that  enough ;  not  endeavoring  to  make,  him 


/er.  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


147 


ours,  and  to  em\)race  him  upon  the  terms  of 
that  new  covenant  whereof  he  is  Mediator. 

Whereunto  also  the]/  were  appointed.~\  This 
the  apostle  adds,  for  the  further  satisfaction 
of  believers  in  this  point,  how  it  is  that  so 
many  reject  Christ,  and  stumble  at  him  ;  tel- 
ling them  plainly,  that  the  secret  purpose  of 
(iod  i%  accomplished  in  this.  God  having 
determined  to  glorify  his  justice,  on  impeni- 
tent sinners,  as  he  shows  his  rich  mercy  in 
them  that  believe.  Here  it  were  easier  to 
'ead  you  into  a  deep,  than  to  lead  you  forth 
again.  I  will  rather  stand  on  the  shore,  and 
silently  admire  it,  than  enter  into  it.  This  rs 
certain,  that  the  thoughts  of  God  are  all  not 
less  just  in  themselves,  than  deep  and  un- 
soundable  by  us.  His  justice  appears  clear, 
in  that  man's  destruction  is  always  the  fruit 
of  his  own  sin.  But  to  give  causes  of  God's 
decrees  without  himself,  is  neither  agreeable 
with  the  primitive  being  of  the  nature  of  (^od, 
nor  with  the  doctrine  of  the  Scriptures.  This 
is  sure,  that  God  is  not  bound  to  give  us  fur- 
ther account  of  these  things,  and  we  are 
bound  not  to  ask  it.  Let  these  two  words, 
as  St.  Augustine  says,  answer  all.  What  an 
thou,  O  man  ?  and,  O  the  depth!  Rom.  ix.  20  ; 
xi.  33. 

Our  only  sure  way  to  know  that  our  names 
are  not  in  that  black  line,  and  to  be  persuaded 
that  he  hath  chosen  us  to  be  saved  by  his 
Son,  is  this,  to  find  that  we  have  chosen  him, 
and  are  built  on  him  by  faith,  which  is  the 
fruit  of  his  love,  who  first  choosctli  us ;  and 
that  we  may  read  in  our  esteem  of  him. 

Jle  is  precious.]  Ox,  your  honor.  The  dif- 
ference is  small.  You  account  him  your 
glory  and  your  gain  ;  he  is  not  only  precious 
to  you,  but  preciousness  itself  He  is  the 
thing  that  you  make  account  of,  your  jewel, 
which  if  you  keep,  though  you  be  robbed  of 
all  besides,  you  know  yourselves  to  be  rich 
enough. 

To  you  that  believe.]  Faith  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  make  this  due  estimate  of  Christ. 

L  The  most  excellent  things,  while  their 
worth  is  uiidiscerned  and  unknown,  affect  us 
not.  Now,  faith  is  the  proper  seeing  faculty 
of  the  soul,  in  relation  to  Christ :  that  inward 
light  must  be  infused  from  above,  to  make 
Christ  visible  to  us  ;  without  it,  though  he  is 
beautiful,  yet  we  are  blind  :  and  therefore 
can  not  love  him  for  that  beauty.  But  by 
faith  we  are  enabled  to  see  him  who  is  fairer 
than  the  children  of  men,  Psal.  xlv.  2,  yea,  to 
see  in  him,  the  glory  of  the  only  begotten  Son 
of  God,  John  i.  14  ;  and  then,  it  is  not  possi- 
ble but  to  account  him  precious,  and  to  be-  I 
stow  the  entire  affe.;tion  of  our  hearts  upon 
him.  And  if  any  one  say  to  the  soul,  What  ' 
is  thy  beloved  more  than  anolhir  ^  (Cant.  iii. 
9),  it  willingly  lays  hold  on  the  question,  and 
is  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  extol  him. 

2.  Faith,  as  it  is  tlr.it  which  discerns  Christ, 
so  It  alone  appropriates  him,  makes  him  our 
own.  And  these  are  the  two  reasons  of  our 
esteeming  and  affecting  anything,  its  own 


worth,  and  our  interest  in  it.  Faith  begets 
this  esteem  of  Christ  by  both  :  first  it  discov- 
ers to  us  his  excellences,  which  we  could  not 
see  before  ;  and  then,  it  makes  him  ours, 
gives  us  possession  of  whole  Christ,  all  that 
he  hath,  and  is.  As  it  is  faith  that  com- 
mends Christ  so  much,  and  describes  his 
comeliness  in  that  song,  so  that  word  is  the 
voice  of  faith,  that  expresses  propriety.  My 
wcll-heloved  is  mine,  and  I  am  his.  Cant, 
ii.  16.  And  these  together  make  him  most 
precious  to  the  soul.  Having  once  possession 
of  him.  then  it  looks  upon  all  his  sufferings 
as  endured  particularly  for  it,  and  the  benefit 
of  them  all  as  belonging  to  itself  Sure,  it 
will  say,  can  I  choose  but  account  him  pre- 
cious, who  suffered  shame  that  I  might  not 
be  ashamed,  and  suffered  death  that  I  might 
not  die  ;  who  took  that  bitter  cup  of  the  Fa- 
ther's wrath,  and  drank  it  out,  that  I  might 
be  free  from  it  ? 

Tlunk  not  that  you  believe,  if  your  hearts 
be  not  taken  up  with  Christ,  if  "his  love  do 
not  possess  your  soul,  so  that  nothing  is  pre- 
cious to  you  in  respect  of  him  ;  if  you  can  not 
despise  and  trample  upon  all  advantages  that 
either  you  have  or  would  have,  for  Christ, 
and  count  them,  with  the  great  apostle,  loss 
and  dung  in  comparison  of  him,  Phil.  iii.  8. 
And  if  you  do  esteem  him,  labor  for  increase 
of  faith,  that  you  may  esteem  him  more  ;  for 
as  faith  grows,  so  will  he  still  be  more  pre- 
cious to  you.  And  if  you  would  have  it 
grow,  turn  that  spiritual  eye  frecjuently  to 
him,  who  is  the  proper  object  of  it.  For 
even  they  who  are  believers,  may  possibly 
abate  of  their  love  and  esteem  of  Christ,  by 
suffering  faith  to  lie  dead  within  them,  and 
not  using  it  in  beholding  and  applying  of 
Christ ;  and  the  world,  or  some  particular 
vanities,  may  insensibly  creep  in,  and  get 
into  the  heart,  and  cause  them  much  pains 
ere  they  can  be  thrust  out  again.  But  when 
they  are  daily  reviewing  those  excellences 
that  are  in  Christ,  which  first  persuaded  their 
hearts  to  love  him,  and  are  discovering  still 
more  and  more  of^  them,  his  love  will  cer- 
tainly grow,  and  will  chase  away  those  fol- 
lies that  the  world  doats  upon,  as  unworthy 
to  be  taken  notice  of. 

Ver.  9.  But  ye  am  a  chosen  generation,  a  royal 
priesthood,  a  lioly  nation,  a  pccntiar  people,  that 
ye  should  show  dirth  the  praises  of  liini  wlio  hath 
called  you  out  of  darkness  into  his  marvellous  light. 

It  is  a  matter  of  very  much  consolation 
and  instruction  to  Christians  to  know  their 
own  estate — what  they  are  as  they  are  Chris- 
tians. This  Epistle  is  much  and  often  upon 
this  point  for  both  those  ends  ;  that  the  re- 
flecting upon  their  dignities  in  Christ,  may 
uphold  liiem  with  comfort  under  suffering  for 
him  ;  and  also,  that  it  may  lead  them  in  do- 
ing and  walking  as  becomes  such  a  condition. 
Here  it  hath  been  represented  to  us  by  a 
building,  a  spiritual  temple,  and  by  a  priest- 
hood conformable  to  it. 

The  former  is  C(.infirmed  and  illustrated  by 


148 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  II 


testimonies  of  Scripture  in  the  preceding  ver- 
ses :  tiie  latter  in  tliis  ver^e,  in  wliich,  though 
it  is  not  expressly  cited,  yet  it  is  clear  that 
the  apostle  liath  reference  to  Exod.  xix.  5,  6, 
where  this  dignity  of  priesthood,  together 
witii  the  otlier  titles  here  expressed,  is  as- 
cribed to  all  the  chosen  people  of  God.  It  is 
there  a  promise  made  to  the  nation  of  the 
Jews,  but  under  the  condition  of  obedience, 
and  therefore  it  is  most  fitly  here  applied,  by 
the  apostle,  to  the  believing  Jews,  to  whom 
particularly  he  writes. 

It  is  true,  that  the  external  priesthood  of 
the  law  is  abolished  by  the  coining  of  this 
great  High  Priest,  Jesus  Christ  being  the 
body  of  all  those  shadows  ;  but  this  promised 
dignity  of  sjiiritual  priesthood  is  so  far  from 
being  annulled  by  Christ,  that  it  is  altogether 
liependant  on  him,  and  therefore  fails  in  those 
that  reject  Christ,  although  they  be  of  that 
"ation  to  which  this  promise  was  made.  But 
n  holds  good  hi  all,  of  all  nations,  that  be- 
ueve,  and  particularly,  says  theajjostle,  it  is 
verified  in  you.  You  that  are  believing  Jews, 
by  receiving  Christ,  receive  withal  this  dig- 
nity. 

As  the  leiral  priesthood  v/as  removed  by 
Christ's  fullilling  ail  tlnit  is  prefigured,  so,  he 
was  rejected  by  them  that  were,  at  his  com- 
ing, in  possession  of  that  office  :  as  the  stand- 
ing of  that  their  priesthood  was  inconsistent 
will,  the  revealing  of  Jesus  Christ,  so,  they 
who  were  then  in  it,  being  ungodly  men, 
their  carnal  minds  had  a  kind  of  antipathy 
against  him.  Though  they  prefMuIed  them- 
selves builders  ol'  the  church,  and  by  their 
calling  ought  to  have  been  so,  yet,,  they  threw 
away  the  foundation-stone  tiiat  God  had  cho- 
sen and  designed,  and  in  rejecting  it,  mani- 
fested that  they  themselves  were  rejected  of 
God.  But,  on  the  contrary,  you  who  have 
laid  your  souls  (jn  Christ  by  believing,  have 
this  your  choosing  him  as  a  certain  evidence 
that  God  hath  chosen  you  to  be  his  peculiar 
people  yea,  to  be  so  dignified  as  to  be  a 
kingly  pi  iesthood,  through  Christ. 

We  have  here  to  consider,  1.  The  estate 
of  Christians,  in  the  words  that  here  describe 
it ;  2.  The  opposition  of  it  to  the  state  of  un- 
believers :  3.  The  end  of  it. 

First.  The  state  of  Christians,  A  chosen 
generation.  So,  in  Psalm  xxiv.  The  psalm- 
ist there  speaks  first  cf  God's  universal  sov- 
ereignly, then  of  his  peculiar  choice.  T/ie 
earth  is  the  Lortl's  (vor.  1),  but  there  is  a  se- 
lect company  appointed  lor  his  hoh/  rrnunt- 
am,  there  described  ;  and  the  description  is 
closed  thus.  This  the  seneratmn  of  them  that 
..teek  him.  Thus  Deut.  x.  14,  15,  and  Exod. 
xix.  5.  whence  this  passage  is  taken.  For  all 
t.'te  earth  is  mine,  and  that  nation  which  is  a 
fiirure  of  the  elect  of  all  nations,  God's  pecu- 
liar, beyond  all  others  in  the  world.  As  men 
who  have  great  variety  of  possessions,  yet 
have  usually  their  special  delight  in  some  one 
beyond  all  the  rest,  and  choose  to  reside  most 
jn  it,  and  bestow  most  expense  on  it  to  make 


it  pleasant;  so  doth  the  Lord  of  the  whole 
earth  choose  out  to  himself  from  the  rest  oi 
the  world,  a  number  that  are  a  chosen  gen' 
eration. 

Choosing,  here,  is  the  work  of  effectual  call- 
ing, or  the  severing  of  believers  from  the  rest ; 
for  it  signifies  a  difference  in  their  present  es- 
tate, as  do  likewise  the  other  words  joined 
with  it.  But  this  election  is  altogether  con- 
formable to  thai  of  God's  eternal  decree,  and 
is  no  other  than  the  execution  or  performance 
of  it ;  God's  framing  of  this  his  building  be- 
ing just  according  to  the  idea  of  it  which 
was  in  his  mind  and  purpose  before  all  time 
it  is  the  drawing  tortii  and  investing  of  those 
into  this  Christian,  this  kingly  priesthood, 
whose  names  were  expressly  written  up  for 
it  in  the  book  of  life. 

Generation.']  This  imports  them  to  be  oi 
one  race  or  stock.  As  the  Israelites,  who 
were  by  outward  calling  the  children  of  God, 
were  all  the  seed  of  Abraham  according  to 
the  flesh  ;  so,  they  that  believe  in  the  Lord 
Jesus,  are  children  of  the  promise.  Gal.  iv.  28; 
and  all  of  them  are,  by  their  new  birth,  one 
people  or  generation.  They  are  of  one  na- 
tion, belonging  to  the  same  blessed  land  of 
promise,  all  citizens  of  the  New  Jerusalem, 
yea,  all  children  of  the  same  family,  whereof 
Jesus  Christ,  the  root  of  Jesse,  is  the  stock, 
who  is  the  great  King,  and  the  great  High 
Priest.  And  thus  they  are  a  royal  priest- 
hood. There  is  no  devolving  of  his  royalty 
or  priesthood  on  any  other,  as  it  is  in  him- 
self; for  his  proper  dignity  is  supreme  and 
incommunicable,  and  there  is  no  succession 
in  his  order:  he  lives  for  ever,  and  is  priest 
for  ever,  Psal.  ex.  4,  and  king  for  ever  too, 
Psal.  xlv.  6.  But  they  that  are  descended 
from  him,  do  derive  from  him,  by  that  new 
original,  this  double  dignity,  in  that  way  that 
they  are  capable  of  it,  to  be  likewise  kings 
and  priests,  as  he  is  both.  They  are  of  the 
seed-royal,  and  of  the  holy  seed  of  the  priest- 
hood, inasmuch  as  they  partake  of  a  new  life 
from  Christ.  Thus,  in  Rev.  i.  5,  6,  first,  there 
is  his  own  dignity  expressed,  then,  his  digni- 
fying us:  M  ho  IS  hhuseU  the  first  begotten 
among  the  dead,  and  the  prince  of  the  kings 
of  the  earth  ;  and  then  it  follows,  and  hath 
made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God  and  his 
Father. 

A  royal  priesthood.]  That  the  dignity  of 
believers  is  expressed  by  these  two  together, 
by  jiriesthood  and  royalty,  teaches  us  the 
worth  and  excellency  of  that  holy  function 
taken  properly,  and  so,  by  analogy,  the  dignity 
of  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  which  God  hath 
placed  in  his  church,  instead  of  the  priest- 
hood of  the  law  ;  for  therefore  doth  this  title 

I  of  spiritual  priesthood  filly  signify  a  great 
privilege  and  honor  that  Christians  are  pro- 

I  moted  to,  and  it  is  joined  with  that  of  kings, 
because  the  proper  office  of  priesthood  was  so 
honorable.  Before  it  was  established  in  one 
family,  the  chief,  the  first-born  of  each  family, 

,  had  a  right  to  this,  as  a  special  honor ;  and 


Ver.  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


149 


among'  (he  heathens,  in  some  places,  their 
princes  and  greatest  men,  j^ea,  their  kings 
were  their  priests  ;  and,  universally,  the  per- 
forming of  their  holy  things  was  an  employ- 
ment of  great  honor  and  es'.eem  among  them. 
Though  human  ambition  hath  strained  this 
consideration  too  high,  to  the  favoring  and 
founding  of  a  monarchical  prelacy  in  the 
Christian  world,  yet  that  abuse  of  it  ought 
not  to  prejudge  us  of  this  due  and  just  con- 
sequence from  it,  that  the  holy  functions  of 
God's  house  have  very  much  honor  and  digni- 
ty in  them.  And  the  apostle,  we  see,  2  Cor. 
iii.,  prefers  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  to  the 
priesthood  of  the  law.  So  then,  they  mistake 
much,  who  think  it  a  disparagement  to  men 
that  have  some  advantages  of  birth  or  wit 
more  than  ordinary,  to  bestow  them  thus,  and 
who  judge  the  meanest  persons  and  things 
good  enough  for  this  high  calling.  Surely 
this  conceit  can  not  have  place,  but  in  an  un- 
holy, irreligious  mind,  that  hath  either  no 
thoughts,  or  very  mean  thoughts  of  God.  If 
they  who  are  called  to  this  holy  service  would 
themselves  consider  this  aright,  it  would  not 
puff  them  up,  but  humble  them  :  comparing 
their  own  wonhlessness  with  this  great  work,  j 
they  would  wonder  at  God's  dispensation,  that 
should  thus  have  honored  them.  As  St.  Paul 
speaks  of  himself,  Ephes.  iii.  8,  Unto  me  who 
am  less  than  the  least  of  all  saints  is  this 
grace  given,  6fC.,  so,  the  more  a  man  rightly 
extols  this  his  calling,  the  more  he  humbles 
himself  under  the  weight  of  it:  and  this  would 
make  him  very  careful  to  walk  more  suitably 
to  it  in  eminency  of  holiness,  for  in  that  con- 
sists its  true  dignily. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  this  kingly  priest- 
hood is  the  comnt  ra  dignity  of  all  believers: 
ihis  honor  have  ail  the  saints.  They  are 
lings,  have  victory  and  dominion  given  them 
over  the  powers  of  darkness  and  the  lusts  of 
their  own  hearts,  that  held  them  captive,  and 
domineered  over  them  before.  Base,  slavish 
lusts,  not  born  to  command,  yet  are  the  hard 
taskmasters  of  unrenewed  minds  :  and  there  is 
no  true  subduing  of  them,  but  by  the  power 
and  Spirit  of  Christ.  They  may  be  quiet  for 
a  while  in  a  natural  man,  but  they  are  then 
but  asleep  ;  as  soon  as  they  awake  again,  they 
return  to  hurry  and  drive  iiim  with  tlieir  I 
wonted  violence.  Now  this  is  the  benefit  of 
receiving  the  kingdum  of  Christ  into  a  man's 
heart,  that  it  makes  him  a  king  himself  All 
the  subjects  of  Christ  are  kings,  not  only  in 
regard  of  that  pure  crown  of  fflory  they  hope 
for,  and  shall  certainly  attain,  but  in  the  pres- 
ent, they  havea  kingdom  which  is  the  pledge 
of  that  oilier,  overcoming  the  world,  and 
Satan,  and  theinselves,  by  the  [)ower  of  faith. 
Mens  hona  regnurn  possidet,  A  good  mind  is 
a  kingdom  in  itself,  it  is  true  :  but  there  is  no 
mind  truly  good,  but  that  wherein  Christ 
dwells.  There  is  not  any  kind  of  spirit  in  the 
world,  so  no})le  as  that  spirit  that  is  in  a 
Christian,  the  very  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ,  that 
great  king,  the  sj/irit  of  glory,  as  our  apostle 


calls  it  below,  ch.  iv.  This  i»  a  sure  way  to 
ennoble  the  basest  and  poorest  among  us. 
This  royalty  takes  away  all  attainders,  and 
leaves  nothing  of  all  that  is  passed  to  be  laid 
to  our  charge,  or  to  dishonor  us. 
i  Believers  are  not  shut  out  from  God,  as 
they  were  before,  but,  being  in  Christ,  are 
brought  near  unto  him,  and  have  free  access 
'  to  the  throne  of  his  grace,  Heb.  x.  21,  22. 
They  resemble,  in  their  spiritual  state,  the 
legal  priesthood  very  clearly,  I.  In  their  con- 
secration ;  II.  In  their  service  ;  and.  III.  In 
their  laws  of  living. 

I.  In  their  consecration.  The  Levitical 
priests  were,  1,  washed;  therefore  this  is 
expressed,  Revel,  i.  5,  He  hath  ivashcd  us  in 
his  blood,  and  then  follows,  and  hath  made  us 
kings  and  priests.  There  would  have  been 
no  coming  near  unto  God  in  his  holy  services 
as  his  priests,  unless  we  had  been  cleansed 
from  the  guiltiness  and  pollution  of  our  sins. 
This  that  pure  and  purifying  blood  doth  :  and 
it  alone.  No  other  laver  can  do  it ;  no  watei 
but  that  fountain  opened  for  sin  and  for  un- 
cleanncss.  Zech.  xiii.  1.  No  blood,  none  of 
all  that  blood  of  legal  sacrifices  (Heb.  ix.  12), 
but  only  tlie  blood  of  that  spotless  Lamb  that 
takes  away  the  sms  of  the  world,  John  i.  29. 
So  with  this,  2.  We  have  that  other  ceremony 
of  the  priest's  consecration,  which  was  by 
sacrifice,  as  well  as  by  washing  ;  for  Christ 
at  once  offered  up  himself  as  our  sacrifice,  and 
let  out  his  blood  for  our  washing.  With 
good  reason  is  that  prefixed  there.  Rev.  i.  5, 
He  hath  loved  us,  and  then  it  follows,  wash- 
ed us  m  his  lilood.  That  precious  stream  of  his 
heart-blood,  that  flowed  for  our  washing,  told 
clearly  that  it  was  a  heart  full  of  unspeakable 
love  that  was  the  source  of  it.  .3.  There  is 
anointinij',  namely,  the  graces  of  the  Spirit, 
conferred  upon  believers,  flowing  unto  them 
from  Christ.  For  it  is  of  his  fulness  that  tve 
all  receive  grace  for  grace  (.Tohn  i.  16)  ;  atvd 
the  Apostle  St.  Paul  says  (2  Cor.  i.  16),  that 
we  are  cstaldished  and  anointed  in  Christ.  It 
was  poured  on  him  as  our  head,  and  runs 
down  from  him  unto  us  ;  He  the  Christ,  and 
we  Christians,  as  partakers  of  his  anointing. 
The  consecrating  oil  of  the  priests  was  made 
of  the  richest  ointments  and  spices  to  show 
the  [)reciousness  of  the  graces  of  God's  Spirit, 
which  are  bestowed  on  these  si)iritual  priests  : 
and  as  that  holy  oil  was  not  for  common  use, 
nor  for  any  other  persons  to  be  anointed 
withal,  save  the  priests  only,  so  is  the  S|iirit 
of  grace  a  peculiar  gift  to  believers.  Others 
might  have  costly  ointments  among  the  Jews, 
but  none  of  that  same  sort  with  the  consecra- 
tion-oil. Natural  men  may  have  very  great 
gifts  of  judgment,  and  learning,  and  eloquence, 
and  moral  virtues,  but  they  have  none  of  this 
precious  oil,  namely,  the  Spirit  of  Christ  com- 
municated to  them ;  no,  all  their  endow- 
ments are  but  common  and  profane.  That 
holy  oil  signified  particularly,  eminency  of 
light  and  knowledge  in  the  priests;  there- 
fore, in  Christians  there  must  be  light.  They 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  U 


lhat  arp  ffrossly  ignorant  of  siiiriiiial  things 
are  surely  lujt  of  this  order  ;  tins  inioiniiiig  is 
said  /()  tench  vs  all  l/iings,  1  John  ii.  'Jl.  That 
holy  oil  was  of  a  mosi  fragrant  sweet  smell, 
D\  reason  of  its  ])recious  conijuisition  ;  but 
much  more  sweet  is  the  t-mell  ot  that  Spirit 
•".vherewith  helievers  are  aiioiiUrd,  those 
several  odoriferous  graces,  wiiich  are  the 
in:,M'edients  of  tlieir  anointing  oil,  that  Ik  aven- 
h -niindedness,  and  meekness,  and  patience, 
and  humility,  and  the  rest,  that  dill'use  a 
pleasant  scent  mto  the  places  and  societies 
where  they  come  ;  iheir  words,  their  actions, 
and  their  deportment  smelling  sweet  of  them. 
4.  The  garments  wherein  the  priests  were 
inaugurate,  and  which  they  were  after  to 
wear  in  their  services,  are  outshined  by  that 
purity  and  holiness  wherewith  all  the  saints 
are  adorned  ;  but  still  more  by  that  imputed 
righteousness  ol' Christ,  l/iosc  jnire  rohes  that 
are  put  upon  them,  wherein  they  appear  be- 
f(jire  the  Lord  and  are  acccj)ted  in  his  sight. 
Hiese  priests  are  indeed  clotlicd  with  righte- 
ovsncss,  according  to  that  of  the  Psalmist, 
Psal.  cxxxii.  9.  5.  The  priests  were  to  have 
the  offerings  put  into  their  hands  ;  thence, 
fUing  of  the  hand,  signifies  cons«ecrating  to 
the  priesthood.  And  thus  doth  Jesus  Christ, 
who  is  the  consecraior  of  these  priests,  put 
into  their  hands,  by  his  Spirit,  the  offerings 
they  are  to  present  unto  God.  He  furnishes 
ihem  with  prayers,  and  praises,  and  all  other 
oblations,  that  are  to  be  offered  by  them; 
he  gives  them  themselves,  which  they  are  to 
offer  a  living  sacrifice,  rescuing  them  from 
the  usurped  possession  of  Satan  and  sin. 

Let  us  consider  their  services,  which  were 
divers.  To  name  the  chief,  L  They  had 
charge  of  the  sanctuary,  and  the  vessels  of  it, 
and  the  lights,  and  were  to  keep  the  lamps 
burning.  Thus  the  heart  of  every  Christian 
is  made  a  temple  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  he 
himself,  as  a  priest  consecrated  unto  God,  is 
to  keep  it  diliij-ently,  and  the  furniture  of  di- 
vine grace  in  it  :  to  have  the  light  of  spiritual 
knowledge  within  him,  and  to  nourish  it  by 
drawing  continually  new  sup[)lies  from  Jesus 
Christ.  2.  The  priests  were  to  bless  the 
people.  And  truly  it  is  this  spiritual  priest- 
hood, the  chct,  that  procure  blessin<js  upon 
the  rest  of  the  world,  and  {)ariicularly  on  the 
places  where  they  live.  They  are  daily  to 
offer  the  incense  of  prayer,  and  other  s])iritual 
sacrifices  unto  God,  as  the  apostle  expresseih 
It  above,  verse  5,  not  to  neglect  thone  holy 
exercises  together  or  apart.  And  as  the 
priests  offered  it  not  only  for  themselves,  but 
for  the  people,  so  Christians  are  to  extend 
their  prayers,  and  to  entreat  the  blessini;s  of 
God  for  others,  especially  for  the  public  estate 
of  the  church.  As  the  Lord's  priests,  they 
are  to  ofTer  up  those  praises  to  God  timt  are 
nis  due  from  the  other  creatures,  which 
praise  him  indeed,  yet  can  not  do  it  after  the 
maimer  in  which  these  priests  do;  therefore 
ihev  are  to  offer,  as  it  were,  their  sacrifices 
lor  them,  as  the  priests  did  for  the  people. 


And  because  the  most  of  men  neglect  to  do 
this,  and  can  not  do  it  indeed  because  the) 
are  unholy,  and  arc  not  of  this  priesthood, 
therefore  sliould  they  be  so  much  tlie  mor«! 
careful  of  it,  and  diligent  in  it.  How  few  of 
those,  whom  the  heavens  call  to  by  ti>eir 
light  and  revtilutioii,  that  they  enjoy,  do  offer 
that  sacrifice  wliich  becomes  them,  by  ac- 
knowledging the  ghrry  of  (iod  which  the  he^iv 
ens  dec/are  !  Thi? ,  therefore,  is  as  it  were  |)Ut 
into  the  hands  of  these  |)riests,  namely,  the 
godly,  to  do. 

HI.  Let  us  consider  their  course  of  life. 
We  shall  find  rules  given  to  the  legal  priests, 
stricter  than  to  others,  of  avoiding  legal  pol- 
lutions, &c.  And  from  these,  this  spiritual 
priesthood  must  learn  an  exact,  holy  conver- 
sation, keeping  themselves  from  the  pollu- 
tions of  the  world  :  as  here  it  follows  :  .4  holy 
nation,  and  that  of  necessity  :  if  a  priesthood, 
then  holy.  They  are  purchased  indeed  to  be 
a  ■peculiar  treasure  to  God,  Exod.  xix.  5, 
purchased  at  a  very  high  rate.  He  spared 
not  his  only  Son,  nor  did  the  Son  spare  him- 
self: so  that  these  priests  ought  to  be  the 
Lord's  peculiar  portion.  All  believers  are  his 
clergy ;  and  as  they  are  his  portion,  so  he  is 
theirs.  The  priests  had  no  assigned  inheri- 
tance among  their  brethren,  and  the  reason 
is  added,  for  the  Lord  is  their  portion  ;  and 
truly  so  ihey  needed  not  envy  any  of  the  rest, 
they  had  the  choicest  of  all,  the  Lord  of  all. 
Whatsoever  a  Christian  possesses  in  the 
world,  yet,  being  of  this  spiritual  priesthood, 
he  is  as  if  hf.  possessed  it  not,  1  Cor.  vii.  30, 
lays  little  account  on  it.  That  which  his 
mind  is  set  upon,  is,  how  he  may  enjoy  God, 
and  find  clear  assurance  that  he  hath  him  for 
his  portion. 

It  is  not  so  mean  a  thing  to  be  a  Christian 
as  we  think:  it  is  a  holy,- an  honorable,  a 
happy  state.  Few  of  us  can  esteem  it,  or  do 
labor  to  find  it  so.  No,  we  know  not  these 
things,  our  hearts  are  not  on  them,  to  make 
this  dignity  and  happiness  sure  to  our  souls. 
Where  is  that  true  greatness  of  mind,  and 
that  holiness  to  be  found,  that  become  those 
who  are  Ami,'-.';  and  priests  unto  God  ?  that 
contempt  of  earthly  things,  and  minding  of 
heaven,  that  should  be  in  such  ?  But  surely^ 
as  many  as  find  themselves  indeed  partakers 
of  these  dignities,  will  study  to  live  agreea- 
bly to  theni,  and  will  not  fail  to  love  that 
Lord  Jesus  who  hath  purchased  all  this  for 
them,  and  exalted  them  to  it ;  yea,  humbled 
himself  to  exalt  them. 

Now,  as  to  the  opposition  of  tiie  estate  of 
Christians  to  that  of  unbelievers.  We  best 
discern,  and  are  most  sensible  of  the  evil  or 
good  of  things  by  comparison.  In  respect  of 
outward  condition,  how  many  be  there  that 
are  Vexing  themselves  with  causeless  mur- 
murings  and  discontents,  who,  if  they  would 
look  upon  the  many  in  the  world  that  are  in 
a  far  meaner  condition  than  they,  would  be 
cured  of  that  evil  !  It  would  make  them  not 
only  content,  but  cheerful  and  thankful.  But 


fEE  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


15] 


the  difference  here  expressed,  is  far  greater 
and  more  considerable  than  any  that  can  be 
in  outward  things.  Though  the  estate  of  a 
Christian  is  very  excellent  and  precious,  and, 
when  rightly  valued,  iiath  enouifh  in  itself  to 
coiinnend  it,  yet  it  doth  and  ought  to  raise 
our  esteem  of  it  the  higher,  when  we  com- 
pare It  both  with  the  misery  of  our  former 
condition,  and  with  the  contiuuino;  misery  of 
those  that  abide  still,  and  are  left  to  perish 
in  that  woful  eftate.  We  have  here  both 
these  parallels.  The  happiness  and  dignity 
to  which  they  are  chosen  and  called,  are  op- 
posed to  the  rejection  and  misery  of  them 
that  continue  unbelievers  and  rejecters  of 
Christ. 

JMot  only  natural  men,  but  even  they  that 
have  a  spiritual  life  in  them,  when  they  for- 
get themselves,  are  subject  to  look  upon  the 
things  thai  are  before  them  with  a  natural 
eye,  and  to  think  hardly,  or  at  least  doubt- 
fully, concerning  God's  dispensations,  behold- 
ing the  flourishing  and  prosperities  of  tlie  un- 
godly, together  with  their  own  sufferings  and 
distresses.  Thus,  Psalm  Ix.xxiii.  But  when 
they  turn  the  other  side  of  the  medal,  and 
view  them  with  a  right  eye,  and  by  a  true 
light,  they  are  no  longer  abused  with  those 
appearances.  When  they  consider  unbeliev- 
ers as  strangers,  yea,  enemies  to  God,  and 
slaves  to  Satan,  held  fast  in  the  chains  of 
their  own  itnpenitency  and  unbelief,  and  by 
these  bound  over  to  eternal  death,  and  theii 
see  themselves  called  to  (he  liijerties  and  diij- 
nities  of  the  sons  of  God,  partakers  of  the 
honor  of  the  only-beijotten  Son,  on  whom 
they  have  believed,  made  by  him  kinsx  and 
pri'sts  unto  God  the  Father,  then,  surely, 
they  have  oilier  thoughts.  It  makes  ihern  lio 
more  envy,  but  pity  the  ungodly,  and  account 
all  their  pomp,  and  all  their  possessions, 
what  they  are  indeed,  no  other  than  a  glis- 
tening misery,  and  account  themselves  ha|)py 
in  all  estates.  It  makes  them  say  with  Da- 
vid, The  lines  have  fallen  to  me  in  a  pleasant 
■place,  I  have  a  goodly  heritage.  It  makes 
them  digest  all  their  sufferings  and  disgraces 
with  i)aiience,  yea,  with  joy,  and  think  iimre 
of  [)raising  than  complaining-,  more  of  show- 
ing forth  his  honor  who  hath  so  honored 
them;  especially  when  they  consider  the  free- 
ncss  of  his  ^race,  that  it  was  that  alone  which 
made  the  difference,  calling  them  altcigciher 
undeservedly  from  that  same  darkness  and 
miserv  in  which  unbelievers  are  deservedlv 
left.  '  ^ 

Now  the  third  thing  here  to  be  spoken  to, 
is,  the  end  of  their  calling,  to  show  forth  his 
praist,  &c.  And  that  we  may  the  more 
prize  the  reasonableness  of  that  happy  estate 
to  which  God  hath  exalted  them,  it  is  ex- 
pressed in  other  terms  ;  which  therefore  we 
will  first  consider,  and  then  the  end. 

To  magnify  the  grace  of  (  Jod  the  more,  we 
have  here,  1.  Both  the  terms  of  this  motion 
or  change — wlicnnc  and  to  what  it  is;  2.  The 
principle  of  it,  the  calling  of  God. 


1.  For  the  terms  ct"  this  motion :  From 
darkness.    There  is  nothing  more  usual,  not 
only  in  divine,  but  in  human  writings,  than 
to  borrow  outward  sensible  things,  to  express 
things  intellectual ;  and  among  such  expres- 
sions there  is  none  more  frequent  than  that 
of  liiriit  and  darkness  transferred,  to  signify 
the  good  and  the  evil  estate  of  man,  as  some- 
times for  his  outward  prosperity  or  adversity, 
but  especially  for  things  proper  to  his  mind. 
The  mind  is  called  light,  because  the  seat  of 
truth,  and  truth  is  most  fitly  called  'ight, 
\  being  the  chief  beauty  and  ornament  of  the 
rational  world,  as  light  is  of  the  visible. 
,  And  as  the  light,  because  of  that  its  beauty, 
I  is  a  thing  very  refreshing  and  comfortable  to 
I  them  that  behold  it  (as  Solomon  says.  It  is 
a  pleasant  thing  to  see  the  sun),  so  is  truth  a 
most  delightful  thing  to  the  soul  that  rightly 
apprehends  it. 

I  This  may  help  us  to  conceive  of  the  spirit- 
I  ual  sense  in  which  it  is  here  taken.  The 
estate  of  lost  mankind  is  indeed  nothing  but 
darkness,  being  destitute  of  all  spiritual  truth 
and  comfort,  and  lending  to  utter  and  ever- 
lasting darkness. 

And  it  is  so,  because  by  sin  the  soul  is  se{>- 
arate  from  God,  who  is  the  first  and  hiijhest 
light,  the  primitive  truth.  As  he  is  light  in 
himself  (as  the  Apostle  St.  John  tells  us,  God 
IS  light,  and  tn  him  there  is  no  darkness  at  all, 
expressing  the  excellency  and  purity  of  his 
nature),  so  he  is  light  relatively  to  the  soul 
of  man:  The  Lord  is  my  light,  says  David, 
Psalm  xxvii.  1. 

And  the  soul  being  made  capable  of  divine 
light,  can  not  be  happy  without  it.  Give  it 
what  other  light  you  will,  still  it  is  in  dark- 
ness, so  long  as  it  is  without  God,  he  being 
the  peculiar  light  and  life  of  the  soul.  And 
as  truth  is  united  with  the  soul  in  ajjprehend- 
ing  it,  and  light  with  the  visive  faculty,  so, 
in  order  that  the  soul  may  have  God  as  its 
light,  it  must  of  necessity  be  in  union  with 
God.  Now  sin  hath  broken  that  union,  and 
so  cut  off  the  soul  from  its  light,  and  plunged 
it  into  sjjiritual  darkness. 

Hence  all  that  confusion  and  disorder  in 
the  Soul,  which  is  ever  the  companion  of 
darkness:  Tohu  vahohu,  as  it  was  at  first, 
when  darkness  was  on  the  face  of  the  deep. 
Gen.  i.  2.  Being  ignorant  of  G(jd  and  our- 
selves, it  follows  that  we  love  not  God,  be- 
cause ire  know  him  not  ;  yea  (though  we  think 
it  a  hard  word),  we  are  haiers  of  God  ;  for 
not  only  doth  our  darkness  import  ignorance 
of  him,  but  an  enmity  to  him,  because  he  is 
light,  and  we  are  darkness.  And  being  igno- 
rant of  ourselves,  not  seein<j  our  own  vile- 
ness,  because  we  are  in  the  dark,  we  are 
pleased  with  ourselves,  and  having  left  God, 
do  love  ourselves  instead  of  God.  Hence 
arise  all  the  wickednesses  of  our  hearts  and 
lives,  which  are  no  other  than,  instead  of 
obeying  and  pleasing  God,  a  continual  sacri- 
ficing to  those  gilluhm.  those  base  dnnghill- 
gods,  our  own  lusts.    For  this,  the  Apostle 


152 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[<jhap.  n. 


Paul  gives  as  the  root  of  all  tvil  dispositions, 
2  Tim.  iii.  2 :  because,  in  the  first  i>liice, 
lovtrs  of  t/iciiiselves,  ilicrel'orc  covetous,  boast- 
ers, proud,  kc,  and  /overs  of  pleasures  more 
than  of  God.  And  tins  self-iuve  can  not  sub- 
sist witiumt  yross  iniiorancc,  by  wliicii  our 
minds  an- so  darkcntd  that  we  can  not  witlial 
see  wiiat  we  are  ;  fur  if  we  did,  it  were  not 
possil)le  but  we  sboukl  be  far  of  anotber 
aiind,  very  lar  out  of  lovins;  and  likini;  wiiii 
jurselves.  Tbus  our  souls  bein<i  tilled  with 
darkness,  are  likewise  full  of  uncleanness,  as 
thai  i;oes  along  too  with  darkness;  they  are 
not  only  dark  as  dungeons,  but  withal  filthy 
as  dungeons  used  to  be.  So,  Eplies.  iv.  18. 
Understandings  darkened,  alienated  from  the 
life  of  God  ;  and  therefore,  it  is  added,  ver. 
19,  they  give  themselves  over  unto  lascivious- 
7iess,  to  u  ork  all  7incleanness  icith  greediness. 
Again,  in  this  state  they  have  no  light  of  solid 
comfort.  Our  great  comfort  here,  is  not  in 
anything  present,  but  in  hope  ;  now,  being 
wiihovl  Christ,  without  God,\VG  are  with- 
out hope.    Epiies.  ii.  12. 

And  as  the  estate  whence  we  are  called  by 
grace  is  worthily  called  darkness,  so  that  to 
which  it  calls  us  deserves  as  weil  the  name 
of  light.  Christ,  likewise,  who  came  lo  work 
our  deliverance,  is  frequently  so  called  in 
scripture  ;  as  John  i.  9,  That  was  the  true 
light,  and  elsewhere  ;  not  only  in  regard  of 
his  own  nature,  being  God  equal  with  the  Fa- 
ther, and  therefore  light,  as  he  is  God  of  God. 
and  therefore  light  of  li'jht  ;  but  relatively 
to  men,  as  John  i.  4,  That  life  was  the  light 
ef  men.  So  he  is  styled  The  Word,  and  the 
\Yisdom  of  the  Father,  not  only  in  regard  of 
his  own  knowledge,  but  as  revealing  him 
unto  us.  See  John  i.  18,  and  1  Cor.  i.  IS, 
comparec'  with  v.?).  And  he  is  styled  by 
Malachi,  ch.  iv.  2  '  \e  Sun  of  Righteous- 
ness. Now,  the  sun  *  not  only  a  luminous 
body,  but  a  luminary,  giving  light  unto  the 
world.    Gen.  i.  15. 

He  is  our  light,  opposed  to  all  kind  of  dark- 
ness. He  is  so,  in  opposition  to  the  dark 
shadows  of  the  ceremonial  law,  which  possi- 
bly are  liere  meant,  as  part  of  that  darkness 
from  which  the  apostle  writes^  that  these 
Jews  were  delivered  also  by  the  knowledge 
of  Christ :  when  he  came,  the  day  broke  and 
the  shadows  few  away.  He  is  our  light,  as 
opposed  likewise  to  the  darkness  of  the  Gen- 
tile superstitions  and  idolatries  ;  therefore 
these  two  are  joined  by  old  Sitneon,  A  lm:hl 
to  lighten  the  Gentiles,  and  the  glori/  of  his 
people  Israel,  Luke  ii.  34.  And  to  all  who 
believe  among  either,  he  is  light  as  opposed 
to  the  ignorance,  slavery,  and  misery,  of  their 
natural  estate,  teaching  them  by  his  Spirit 
the  things  of  God,  and  reunitiii!!  them  with 
God,  who  is  the  litrht  of  the  soul.  /  am.  says 
he,  the  light  of  the  world  ;  he  that  fo'lowelh 
me  shall  not  rralk  in  darkness.  John  viii.  12. 

And  It  is  that  mysterious  union  of  the  soul 
with  God  in  Christ,  which  a  natural  man  so 
little  understands,  that  is  the  cause  of  all 


that  spiritual  light  of  grace,  that  a  believer 
does  enjoy.  There  is  no  right  knowledge  oi 
God,  to  man  once  fallen  from  it,  hut  in  his 
Son  ;  no  comfort  in  beholding  God,  but 
through  him  ;  nothing  but  just  anger  and 
wrath  to  be  seen  in  God's  looks,  but  through 
him,  m  whom  he  is  well  pleased,  'fhe  gospel 
shows  us  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
L'lory  of  God,  but  it  is  in  the  face  of  Jesut 
Christ.  2  Cor.  iv.  6.  Therefore,  the  king, 
dom  of  light,  as  opposed  to  that  of  darkness, 
is  called  the  kingdom  of  his  dear  Son,  or,  the 
Son  of  his  love.  Col.  i.  13. 

There  is  a  spirit  of  light  and  knowledge 
flows  from  Jesus  Christ  into  the  souls  of  be- 
lievers, that  acquaints  them  with  the  myste- 
ries of  the  kingdom  of  God,  which  can  not 
otherwise  be  known.  And  this  spirit  of 
knowledge  is  withal  a  spirit  of  holiness  ;  for 
purity  and  holiness  are  likewise  signified  by 
this  light.  He  removed  that  huge  dark  body 
of  sin  that  was  between  us  and  the  Father, 
and  eclipsed  him  from  us.  The  light  of  his 
countenance  sanctifietb  by  truth  ;  it  is  a  light 
that  hath  heat  with  it,  and  hath  influence 
upon  the  affections,  Avarms  them  toward  God 
and  Divine  things.  This  darkness  here  is  in- 
deed the  shadow  of  death,  and  they  that  are 
without  Christ,  are  said,  till  he  visit  them,  to 
sit  in  darkness  and  in  the  shadow  of  death, 
Luke  i.  79  :  so,  this  Light  is  life,  John  i.  4  ; 
it  doth  enlighten  and  enliven,  begets  new  ac- 
tions and  motions  in  the  soul.  The  right  no- 
tion that  a  man  hath  of  things  as  they  are, 
works  upon  him,  and  stirs  him  accordingly  ; 
thus  this  light  discovers  a  man  to  himself,  and 
lets  him  see  his  own  natural  filthiness,  makes 
him  loath  himself,  and  fly  from  himself— run 
out  of  himself  And  the  excellency  he  sees 
in  God  and  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  by  this  new 
licfht,  inflames  his  heart  with  their  love,  fills 
him  with  estimation  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and 
makes  the  world,  and  all  things  in  it  that  he 
esteemed  before,  base  and  mean  in  his  eyes. 
Then  from  this  light  arise  spiritual  joy  and 
comfort,  which  are  frequently  signified  by 
ibis  expression,  as  in  that  verse  of  the  ))salm- 
ist  (the  latter  clause  expounds  the  former), 
Light  is  sown  for  the  righteous,  and  joy  for 
the  upriiiht  in  heart.  Psal.  xcvii.  11.  As  this 
kingdom  <f  God's  dear  Son,  that  is,  this  king- 
dom of  light,  hath  righteousness  in  it,  so  it 
hath  peact  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  Rom. 
xiv.  17.  It  is  a  false  ])rejudice  the  world  hath 
taken  up  atrainst  religion,  that  it  is  a  sour  mel- 
ancholy thinir:  there  is  no  truly  lightsome 
comfortable  life  but  it.  All  others,  have  they 
what  they  will,  live  in  darkness  :  and  is  not 
that  truly  sad  and  comfortless?  Would  you 
think  ita  plcasant  life,  though  you  had  fine 
clothes,  and  good  diet,  never  to  see  the  sun, 
but  siill  to  be  kept  in  a  dungeon  with  them  ? 
Thus  are  they  who  live  in  worldly  honor 
and  plenty,  but  still  without  God  ;  they  are 
in  continual  darkness,  with  all  their  'Jiijoy 
ments. 

It  is  true  the  light  of  believers  is  not  Here 


Ver.  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


15b 


perfect,  and  therefore  neither  is  their  joy  per- 
fect: it  is  sometimes  overclouded;  but  the 
comfort  is  this,  that  it  is  an  everlasting  light, 
It  shall  ne^cr  go  out  in  darkness,  as  it  is  said 
in  Job  xviii.  5,  the  light  of  the  wicked  xhtlll ; 
and  it  shall  within  a  while  be  perfected  : 
tiiere  is  a  bright  morning  without  a  cloud 
that  shall  arise.  The  saints  have  not  only 
light  to  lead  them  in  their  journey,  but  much 
purer  light  at  home,  an  inheritance  in  light. 
Col.  i.  12.  The  land  where  their  inheritance 
lieth,  is  full  of  light,  and  their  inheritance  it- 
self is  light ;  for  the  vision  of  God  for  ever  is 
tliat  inheritance.  That  city  hath  no  need  of 
the  sun,  nor  of  the  moon,  to  shine  in  it,  for 
the  glory  of  the  Lord  doth  lighten  it,  and  the 
Lamb  is  the  light  thereof.  Rev.  xxi.  23.  As 
we  said,  that  Iiicreated  Light  is  the  happi- 
ness of  the  soul,  the  beginnings  of  it  are  our 
happiness  begun  ;  they  are  beams  of  it  sent 
from  above,  to  lead  us  to  the  fountain  and 
fulness  of  it.  With  thee,  says  David,  is  the 
fountain  of  life,  and,  in  thy  light  shall  we  see 
light.  Psal.  xxxvi.  9. 

There  are  two  things  spoken  of  this  Light, 
to  commend  it — ILs  marvellous  light ;  that 
it  is  after  a  peculiar  manner  God''s,  and  then, 
that  it  is  marvellous. 

All  light  is  from  him,  the  light  is  sense, 
and  that  of  reason  ;  therefore  he  is  called  the 
Father  of  lights,  James  i.  17.  But  this  light 
of  i^racc  is  after  a  peculiar  manner  his,  being 
a  light  above  the  reach  of  nature,  infused  in- 
to the  soul  in  a  supernatural  way,  the  light 
of  the  elect  world,  where  fiod  s|)ecially  and 
graciously  resides.  Natural  men  may  know 
very  much  in  natural  things,  and,  it  may  be, 
may  know  much  in  supernatural  things,  afier 
a  natural  manner.  They  may  be  f  ull  of  school- 
divinity,  and  be  able  to  discourse  of  God  and 
his  Son  Christ,  and  the  mystery  of  redemp- 
tion. &c.,  and  yet,  they  want  this  peculiar 
light,  by  wiiich  Christ  is  made  known  to  be- 
lievers. They  may  speak  of  him,  but  it  is  in 
the  dark  ;  they  see  him  not,  and  therefore  they 
love  him  not.  The  light  they  have  is  as  the 
light  (;f  some  things  that  shine  only  in  the 
night,  a  cold  glow-worm  light  that  hath  no 
heat  with  it  at  all.  Whereas  a  soul  that  haih 
some  of  this  light,  God's  peculiar  light,  com- 
municaied  to  it,  sees  Jesus  Christ,  and  loves 
and  delights  in  him,  and  walks  with  liim.  A 
little  of  this  light  is  worth  a  great  deal,  yea, 
more  worth  tiian  all  that  other  common,  spec- 
ulative, and  discoursing  knowledge  that  the 
greatest  doctors  can  attain  unto.  It  is  of  a 
more  excellent  kind  and  original :  it  is  fr(jm 
Heaven,  and  you  know  that  one  beam  of  the 
8un  is  of  more  v/orili  than  the  light  of  ten 
thousand  torches  together.  It  is  a  pure,  un- 
decaying,  heavenly  light,  whereas  the  other 
is  gross  and  earthly  (be  it  never  so  great),  and 
lasts  l)U^  a  while.  Let  us  not  therefore  think 
it  incredible,  that  a  poor  utilcttered  Christian 
may  know  more  of  God  in  the  best  kind  (jf 
knowledge,  than  any  the  wisest  and  most 
learned  natural  man  can  do  ;  for  the  one 
20 


knovfs  God  only  by  man's  light,  the  ottier 
j  knows  him  by  his  own  li^ht,  and  that  is  the 
I  only  right  knowledge.  As  the  sun  can  not 
be  seen  but  by  its  own  light,  so  neither  can 
God  be  savingly  known,  but  by  his  own  re- 
vealing. 

Now  this  light  being  so  peculiarly  God^s 
no  wonder  if  it  be  marvellous.  The  common 
light  of  the  world  is  so,  though,  because  of 
of  its  commonness,  we  think  not  so  of  it.  The 
Lord  is  marvellous  in  wisdom,  and  in  power 
in  all  his  works  of  creation  and  providence  ; 
but  above  all,  in  the  workings  of  his  grace. 
This  light  is  unknown  to  the  world,  and  so 
marvellous  in  the  rareness  of  beholding  it, 
that  there  be  but  a  few  that  partake  of  it. 
And  to  them  that  see,  it  is  marvellous  ;  be- 
cause in  it  they  see  so  many  excellent  things 
that  they  knew  not  before  ;  as  if  a  man  v^re 
born  and  brought  up,  till  he  came  to  the  years 
of  understanding,  in  a  dungeon,  where  he  had 
never  seen  light,  and  were  brought  forth  on  a 
sudden  ;  or,  not  to  need  that  imagination,  take 
the  man  that  was  born  blind,  at  his  hrst  sight, 
after  Christ  had  cured  him— what  wonder, 
think  we,  would  seize  upon  him,  to  behold 
on  a  sudden  the  beauty  of  this  visible  world, 
especially  of  that  sun,  and  that  light  that 
makes  it  both  visible  and  bcauliful  !  But 
much  more  matter  of  admiration  is  there  in 
I  this  light,  to  the  soul  that  is  brought  newly 
I  from  the  darkness  of  corrupt  nature  !  Such 
persons  see  as  it  were  a  new  world,  and  in  it 
such  wonders  of  the  rich  grace  and  love  of 
God,  such  matchless  worth  in  Jesus  Christ, 
the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  that  their  souls  are 
filled  with  admiration.  And  if  this  light  of 
grace  be  so  marvellous,  how  much  more  mar- 
vellous shall  the  light  of  glonjhe  in  which  it 
ends ! 

Hence,  1.  Learn  to  esteem  highly  of  the 
gospel,  in  which  this  light  shines  unto  us: 
the  apostle  calls  it,  therefore.  The  glorious 
I  gospel,  2  Cor.  iv.  4.   Surely  we  have  no  cause 
'  to  be  ashamed  of  it,  but  of  ourselves,  that  we 
are  so  unlike  it. 

I  2.  Think  not,  you  who  are  grossly  ignorant 
,  of  God,  and  his  Son  Christ,  and  the  mysteries 
of  salvation,  that  you  have  any  portion  as  yet 
in  his  grace  ;  for  the  lirst  character  of  his  re- 
newed image  in  the  soul,  as  it  was  his  first 
work  in  the  material  world,  is  light.  What 
avails  ii  us  to  live  in  the  noonday  light  of  the 
gospel,  if  our  hearts  be  still  shut  against  it, 
and  so  within  we  be  nothing  but  darkness  ? — 
as  a  house  that  is  close  shut  up,  and  hath  no 
I  entry  for  light,  though  it  is  day  without,  still 
it  is  night  within. 

3.  Consider  your  delight  in  the  works  of 
darkness,  and  be  afraid  of  that  great  condem- 
nation. This  is  the  condi  rmintion  of  the  world, 
that  light  is  come  into  it,  and  men  love  dark- 
ness rather  than  light.  John  iii.  19. 

4.  You  that  are  indeed  |)artakers  of  this 
I  happy  change,  let  your  iiearts  be  habitations 
i  of  liLrht.     Have  no  fellowship  with  the  un- 
fruitful works  of  darkness,  but  rather  reprove 


154 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  li. 


them.  Epli.  V.  11.  Study  much  to  increase  in 
spiritual  li-rhi  and  knowledge,  and  withal  in 
holines.s  and  ohediencc  ;  it'  your  liuht  he  this 
light  of  God,  iruly  spiritual  light,  these  will 
accunipany  it.  Consider  the  rich  love  of  God, 
and  account  his  light  marvellous,  as  in  itself, 
so  in  this  resi)ect,  that  he  hath  hestowed  it  on 
you.  And  seeing  (/oi/  wpre  encc  tfarkness,  hut 
now  are  li^Iit  tii  the  Lord,  I  beseech  you — 
nay,  the  apostle,  and  in  him  the  Spirit  of  God, 
beseeches  you,  Wa/k  as  children  of  the  light, 
Eph.  V.  S. 

But  to  proceed  to  speak  to  the  other  parts 
ol  this  verse,  as  to  the  principle  of  this  change, 
the  cnllirii^  of  God. 

It  is  known  and  confessed  to  be  a  chief 
point  of  wisdom  in  a  man,  to  consider  what 
he  is,  from  whom  he  hath  that  his  being,  and 
to  what  end.  When  a  Christian  hath  thought 
on  this  in  his  natural  being,  as  he  is  a  man, 
he  hath  the  same  to  consider  over  again  of 
his  spiritual  being,  as  he  is  a  Christian,  and 
so  a  new  creature.  And  in  this  notion,  all 
the  three  arevery  clearly  represented  to  him  in 
thesewords:  1.  What  he  is,  first,  by  these  titles 
of  dignity  in  the  first  words  of  this  verse  :  and 
agam,  by  an  estate  of  light  in  the  last  clause 
of  it.  2.  Whence  a  Cliristian  hath  this  ex- 
cellent being  is  very  clearly  expressed  here. 
He  hath  called  you.  That  God  who  is  the 
author  of  all  kind  of  being,  hath  given  you 
this,  called  you  from  darkness  to  his  marvel- 
lous If^ht.  If  you  be  a  chosen  generation,  it 
is  he  that  hath  chosen,  you  (ch.  i.  2.)  If  you 
be  a  royal  priesthood,  you  know  that  it  is  he 
that  hath  anointed  you.  If  o  holy  nation,  he 
hath  sanctified  you.  (John  xvii.  17.)  li' a  pe- 
culiar or  purchased  people,  it  is  he  that  hath 
bought  you.  (1  Cor.  vi.  20.)  All  are  included 
in  this  calling,  and  they  are  all  one  thing. 
3.  To  what  end — to  shnic  forth  his  praisrs. 
Of  tlie  first  of  these,  in  all  the  several  expres- 
sions of  it,  wc  have  ?  oken  before  ;  now  are 
to  be  considered  the  other  two. 

He  hath  called  you.'\  Those  who  live  in 
the  society,  and  profess  the  faith  of-'Chris- 
tians,  are  called  unto  light,  the  light  of  the 
gospel  that  shines  in  the  church  of  God.  Now 
this  is  no  small  favor  and  privilege,  while 
many  people  are  left  in  darkness  and  in  the 
shadow  of  death,  to  have  this  light  arise  upon 
■js,  and  to  he  in  the  region  of  it,  the  church, 
the  Goshen  of  the  world  :  for  by  this  outward 
.ight  we  are  invited  to  this  happy  state  of 
saving  inward  light,  and  the  former  is  here 
'0  be  understood  as  the  means  of  the  latter. 
These  Jews  who  were  called  to  the  profession 
of  the  Christian  faith,  to  whom  our  apostle 
writes,  were  even  in  that  respect  called  unto 
a  light  hidden  from  the  rest  of  their  nation, 
and  from  many  other  nations  in  the  world  ; 
but  because  the  apostle  doth  undoubtedly  de- 
scribe here  the  lively  spiritual  state  of  true 
believers,  therefore  this  calling  doth  further 
import  the  effectual  work  of  conversion,  ma- 
eing  the  daylight  of  salvation,  not  only  with- 
«ut,  out  within  them,  the  day-star  to  arise  in 


?/iei>/ienr?s,  as  he  speaks,  2Eph.i.  19.  When 
the  sun  is  arisen,  yet  if  a  man  be  lying  fast 
in  a  dark  prison,  and  in  a  deep  sleep  too,  it  is 
not  day  to  him  ;  he  is  not  called  to  light,  till 
some  one  open  the  doors  and  awake  him,  and 
bring  him  forth  to  it.  This  God  doth,  in  the 
calling  here  meant.  That  which  is  here 
termed  Calling,  in  regard  of  the  way  of  God's 
working  with  the  soul,  is,  in  regard  of  the 
power  of  it,  called  a  rescvitig  and  lirinaing 
forth  of  the  soul  :  so  the  Apostle  St.  Paul 
speaks  of  it.  Col.  i.  13  :  Delivered  from  the 
power  of  darkness,  and  translated  to  the  king- 
dom of  his  dear  Son.  That  delivering  and 
translating  is  this  calling,  and  it  is  from  the 
power  of  darkness — a  forcible  power — that 
detains  the  soul  captive.  As  there  are  chains 
of  eternal  darkness  upon  damned  spirits, 
which  shall  never  be  taken  olf,  wherein  they 

i  are  said  to  be  reserved  to  the  judgment  of  the 

\  great  day,  so  there  are  chains  of  spiriiual 
darkness  upon  the  unconverted  soul,  that  can 
be  taken  off  by  no  other  hand  but  the  pow- 
erful hand  of  God.  He  calls  the  sinner  to 
come  forth,  and  withal  causes,  by  the  power 
of  that  his  voice,  the  bolts  and  fetters  to  I'all 
off,  and  enables  the  soul  to  come  forth  intc 
the  light.  It  is  an  operative  word  that  effects 
what  it  bids,  as  that  in  the  creation.  He  said. 
Let  there  he  light,  and  it  u-as  light,  to  which 
the  apostle  hath  reference,  2  Cor.  iv.  6,  when 
he  says,  God,  irho  commanded  the  light  to 
shine  out  of  darkness,  hath  shiiied  into  your 
hearts.  God  calls  man.  He  works  with 
him  indeed  as  with  a  reasonable  creature, 
but  surely  he  likewise  works  as  himself,  as 
an  Almighty  Creator.  He  works  strongly 
and  sweetly,  with  an  almighty  easiness.  One 
man  may  call  another  to  this  light,  and  if 
there  be  no  more,  he  may  call  long  enough 
to  no  purpose  :  as  they  tell  of  Mdiammed's 
miracle  that  misgave— he  called  a  mountain 
to  come  to  him,  but  it  stirred  not.  But  His 
call  that  shakes  and  removes  the  mountains, 
doth  in  a  way  known  to  himself,  turn  and 
wind  the  heart  which  way  he  pleaseth.  The 
voice  of  the  Lord  is  powerful  and  full  of  ma- 
jesty. Psal.  xxix.  4.  If  he  speaks  once  to  the 
heart,  it  can  not  choose  but  follow  him,  and 

1  yet  most  willingly  chooses  that.  The  work- 
ings of  grace  (as  oil,  to  which  it  is  often  com- 

j  pared)  do  insensibly  and  silently  penetrate 
and  sink  into  the  soul,  and  dilate  themselves 

I  through  it.  That  word  of  his  own  calling, 
disentangles  the  heart  from  all  its  nets,  as  it 

[  did  the  disciples  from  theirs,  to  follow  Christ. 
That  call  which  brought  St.  Matthew  pres- 
ently from  his  receipt  of  custom,  jnits  off  the 
heart  from  all  its  customs,  and  receipts  too; 
makes  it  reject  gains  and  pleasures,  and  hl\ 

\  that  hinders  it,  to  go  after  Christ.  And  ii  is  a 
call  that  touches  the  soul  so  as  the  touch  of 

i  Elijah's  mantle,  that  made  Elisha  follow  him. 
Go  hack,  said  he,  for  what  have  I  done  unto 
thee  ?  Yet  he  had  done  so  much,  as  made 
him  forsake  all  lo  go  with  him.  1  Kings  xix. 

■  20.    And  this  every  believer  is  most  readv  to 


Ver.  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


155 


acknowledge,  who  knows  what  the  rebellion 
of  liis  licari  was,  and  what  his  miserable  love 
of  darkness  was,  that  the  gracious,  yet  mighiy 
call  of  God,  was  what  drew  him  out  of  it; 
and  therefore  he  willingly  absents  to  that 
which  is  the  Third  thing  to  be  spoken  of, 
that  it  becomes  him,  as  being  the  End  of  his 
»  Calling,  10  show  forth  his  praise,  who  hath 
so  mercifully,  and  so  powerfully,  called  him 
from  so  miserable  to  so  happy  an  estate. 

For  1.  Tins  is  God's  end  in  calling  us,  to 
communicate  his  goodness  to  us,  that  so  the 
glory  of  it  may  return  to  himself.  The  highest 
agent  can  not  work  but  for  the  highest  end  ; 
so  that,  as  the  aposile  speaks,  when  God 
would  confirm  his  covenant  by  an  oath,  he 
sware  by  himself,  because  he  could  swear  by 
no  greater,  so,  in  all  things,  be  must  be  the 
end  of  his  own  actions,  because  there  is  no 
greater,  nor  better  end,  yea,  none  by  infinite 
odds  so  great,  or  good.  Particularly  in  the 
calling  and  exalting  of  a  number  of  lost  man- 
kind to  so  great  honor  and  happiness,  both 
in  designing  that  great  work,  and  in  per- 
forming it,  he  aims  at  the  opening  up  and 
declaring  of  his  rich  grace,  for  the  glory  of 
it,  as  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  tells  us,  once  and 
again,  Ephes.  i.  6,  12. 

2.  As  this  is  God's  end,  it  ought  to  be  ours, 
and  therefore  ours  because  it  is  his.  And  for 
this  very  purpose,  both  here  and  elscAvhere, 
are  we  put  in  mind  of  it,  that  we  may  be 
true  to  his  end,  and  intend  it  with  him.  This 
is  his  purpose  in  calling  us,  and  therefore  it 
is  our  great  duty,  being  so  called — to  declare 
his  praises.  All  things  and  persons  shall 
pay  this  tribute,  even  those  who  are  most 
unwilling;  but  the  happiness  (jf  his  chosen 
is,  that  they  are  active  in  it,  others  are  pas- 
sive only.  Whereas  the  rest  have  his  praise 
wrested  from  them,  they  do  declare  it  cheer- 
fully, as  the  glorious  ani^els  do.  As  the  gos- 
pel brings  them  glad  tidings  of  peace  from 
God,'and  declares  to  them  that  love  and 
mercy  that  is  in  him,  they  smother  it  not,  but 
answer  it  ;  they  declare  it,  and  set  forth  the 
glory  of  it,  with  their  utmost  [xnver  and  skill. 

There  be  in  this  two  things,  1.  Not  only 
that  they  speak  ujion  all  occasions  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  his  grace,  but  that  the  frame  of 
their  actions  be  such  as  doth  tend  to  the  ex- 
alting of  God.  And  2.  That  in  those  actions 
they  do  intend  this  end,  or  set  up  this  for 
their  aim. 

1.  Their  words  and  actions  being  confor- 
mable to  that  high  and  holy  estate  to  which 
they  are  called  do  commend  and  praise  their 
Lord,  who  hath  Ciilled  them  to  it.  The  vir- 
tues which  are  in  them,  tell  us  of  his  vir- 
tues, as  brooks  lead  us  to  their  springs. 
When  a  Christian  can  quietly  repose  his 
trust  on  r;o(l,  in  a  matter  of  very  great  difh- 
ciiliy,  wherein  there  is  no  other  thing  to  slay 
him,  but  God  alone,  this  declares  that  there 
is  streriifth  f'nnugh  in  God  that  l)ears  him  up, 
that  there  must  he  in  him  that  real  abun- 
dance ol  goodness  and  truth  that  the  word 


speaks  of  him.    Abraham  beheved,  and  gave 
I  glory  to  God  (Rom.  iv.  20)  :  this  is  what  a 
1  believer  can  do,  to  declare  the  truth  of  God . 
i  he  relies  on  it.    He  that  believes  sets  to  his 
'  seal  that  God  is  true.    John  iii.  33.  So,  also, 
I  their  holiness  is  for  his  praise.    Men  hear 
[  that  there  is  a  God  who  is  infinitely  holy,  but 
'  they  can  see  neither  him  nor  his  holiness ; 
yet,  when  they  perceive  some  lineaments  of 
it  in  the  faces  of  his  children,  which  are  in 
no  others,  this  may  convince  them  that  its 
perfection,  which  must  be  somewhere,  can 
be  nowhere  else  than  in  their  heavenly  Fa- 
ther.   When  these  which  are  his  peculiar 
plants,  bring  forth  the  fruits  of  holiness, which 
naturally  they  yielded  not,  it  testifies  a  su- 
pernatural work  of  his  hand  who  i)lanted 
them,  and  the  more  they  are  fruitful,  the 
greater  is  his  praise.    Herein,  says  our  Sa- 
vior, is  your  heavenly  Father  glorified,  that 
ije  hrxn<^  forth  mvch  fruit.  John  xv.  8.  Were 
It  not  for  the  conscience  of  this  duty  to  God, 
and  possibly  the  necessity  of  thei'r  station 
and  calling,  it  may  he,  some  Christian  had 
rather  altogether  lock  up  and  keep  within 
himself  any  grace  he  hath,  than  let  it  ajipear 
at  all,  considering  some  hazards  which  he 
and  it  run  in  the  discovery  ;  and,  it  may  be, 
could  take  some  pleasure  in  tlie  world's  mis- 
takes and  disesteem  of  him.    But  seeing 
both  piety  and  charity  require  the  acting  of 
graces  in  converse  wnth  men,  that  which 
hypocrisy  doth  for  itself,  a  real  Christian 
may  and  should  do  for  God. 

2.  The  other  thing  mentioned  as  making 
up  this  rule,  will  give  the  diliereiice:  that 
not  only  what  we  speak  and  do  should  be 
such  as  a^'rees  with  this  end,  but  that  so 
speaking  and  doing,  our  eye  be  ujion  this 
end  ;  tliat  all  our  Christian  conversation  be 
directly  intended  by  us,  not  to  cry  up  our 
own  virtues,  but  to  glorify  God,  and  his  virtues 
—  tn  declare  his  praises  u-ho  hath  called  us. 

Let  your  light,  says  our  Savior  (Matt.  v. 
16)  shine,  and  shine  before  men  too:  that  is 
not  forbidden  :  yea,  it  is  commanded,  but  it 
is  thus  commanded.  Let  your  liiihl  so  shine 
before  mi  n.  that  they  seeing  your  good  ivorks 
— yourselves  as  little  as  may  be,  your  works 
more  than  yourselves  (as  the  sun  gives  its 
light,  and  will  scarce  sufler  us  to  look  upon 
itself)^ — rnai/  glorify — Whom?    You?  No, 
but — your  Father  which  is  in  heaven.  Let 
your  light  shine,  it  is  given  i'or  that  purpose, 
but  let  it  shine  always  to  the  glory  of  (he 
Father  of  lights.   Men  that  seek  themselves, 
may  share  in  the  same  public  kind  of  actions 
with  you  :  but  let  your  secret  intention  (which 
God  eyes  most)  sever  you.    This  is  the  im- 
'  press  that  a  sincere  and  humble  (j:iirisiian 
sets  upon  all  his  actions,  to  the  glory  of  God. 
I  He  useth  all  he  hath,  especially  all  his  gra- 
,  ces,  to  his  j)raise  who  gives  all,  and  is  sorry 
i  he  hath  no  more  for  this  use,  and  is  daily 
seeking  after  more,  not  to  brin;;  more  esteem 
i  to  himself,  but  more  honor  to  God.    It  is  a 
I  poor  booty  to  himt  after  that,  r'^mely,  aa 


156 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Ohai.  n. 


airy  vain  breath  of  men  :  the  best  things  in 
them,  their  soliilest  good,  is  altogether  van- 
ity ;  how  much  more  that  whicii  is  lightest 
and  vainest  in  them!  This  is  the  iniinl  that 
is  fn  every  Chrisiian,  in  all  his  ways  to  deny 
himselt',  and  to  be  willing  to  abase  himself 
to  exalt  his  Master  :  to  he  of  Si  Paul's  tem- 
per, who  regarded  not  himself  at  all,  honor 
or  dishonor,  prison  or  liberty,  lil'e  or  death, 
content  he  was  with  anything,  so  Christ 
might  be  luagnijied.    Phil.  i.  20. 

And  as  every  ijodly  mind  must  be  thus  af- 
fected, so  especially  the  ministers  of  the  gos- 
pel, they  who  are  not  only  called  with  others 
to  partake  of  this  marvellous:  light,  but  are 
in  a  special  manner  to  hold  it  forth  to  others. 
How  do  pure  afl'ections  become  them,  and 
ardent  desires  to  promote  his  glory  who  hath 
so  called  them  !  A  rush  for  your  praise  or 
dispraise  of  us  ;  only  receive  Jesus  Christ, 
and  esteem  highly  of  him,  and  it  is  enough. 
We  preach  not  ourselves,  says  the  apostle, 
hit  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord.  2  Cor.  iv.  5. 
That  is  our  errand,  not  to  catch  either  at 
base  gain  or  vain  applause  for  ourselves,  but 
to  exalt  our  Lord  Jesus  in  the  hearts  of  men. 
And  to  those  who  are  so  minded,  there  is  a 
reward  abiding  them,  of  such  riches  and 
honor  as  they  would  be  very  loath  to  ex- 
change for  anything  to  be  had  among  men. 

But,  in  his  station,  this  is  the  mind  of  ev- 
ery one  who  loves  the  Lord  Jesus,  most 
heartily  to  make  a  sacrifice  of  himself,  and 
all  he  is  and  hath — means,  and  esteem,  and 
life,  and  all, 'to  his  glory  who  humbled  him- 
self so  low,  to  exalt  us  to  these  dignities,  to 
make  ns  kings  and  priests  unto  God. 

It  is  most  just,  seeing  we  have  our  crowns 
ftom  him,  and  that  he  hath  set  them  on  our 
heads,  that  we  take  them  in  our  hands,  and 
throw  them  down  before  his  throne.  All  our 
graces  (if  we  have  any)  are  his  free  gift, 
and  are  given  as  the  rich  garments  of  this 
spiritual  priesthood,  only  to  attire  us  suita- 
bly for  this  spiritual  sacrifice  of  his  praises; 
as  the  costly  vesture  of  the  high  priest  under 
the  law  was  not  appointed  to  make  him  gay 
for  himself,  but  to  decorate  him  for  his  holy 
service,  and  to  commend,  as  a  figure  of  it, 
the  perfect  holiness  wherewith  our  great 
high  priest,  Jesus  Christ  was  clothed.  What 
good  thing  have  we  that  is  not  from  the  hand 
of  our  good  God  ?  And  receiving  all  from 
him,  and  after  a  special  manner  spiritual 
h]essm£is,is  it  not  reasonable  that  all  we  have, 
but  those  spiritual  gifts  especially,  should  de- 
clare his  praise,  and  his  only  ?  David  doth 
not  crow  big  with  vain  thoughts,  and  lift  him 
up  himself,  because  God  had  lifted  up,  but 
exclaims,  /  unll  extol  thee,  because  thou  hast 
lifted  me  up.  Psalm  xxx.  1.  The  visible 
heavens,  and  all  the  beauty  and  the  lights  in 
them,  speak  nothing  but  his  glory  who  fram- 
ed them  (as  the  psalmist  teacheih  us,  Psalm 
xix.  1)  ;  and  shall  not  these  spiritual  liijhts, 
his  called  ones,  whom  he  hath  made  lights  so 
peculiarly  for  that  purpose,  these  stars  in  his 


right  hand,  do  it  much  more  ?  Oh  !  let  it  b» 
thus  with  us  !  The  more  he  gives,  be  still 
the  more  humble,  and  let  him  have  thp  re- 
turn of  more  glory,  and  let  it  go  entire  tr. 
him  ;  it  is  all  his  due  ;  and  in  doing  thus, 
we  shall  still  grow  richer  ;  for  where  lie  sees 
the  most  faithful  servant,  who  purloins  noth- 
ing, but  improves  all  to  his  Master's  advan- 
tage, surely,  him  he  will  trust  with  tnost. 

And  as  it  is  thus  both  most  due  to  God, 
and  most  profitable  fur  ourselves,  in  all  tilings 
to  seek  his  jiraises,  so  it  is  the  most  excellent 
and  generous  intent,  to  have  the  same  thought 
with  God,  the  same  purpose  as  his,  and  to 
aim  no  lower  than  at  his  glory  :  w'hereas  it 
is  abase  poor  thing  for  a  man  to  seek  him- 
self far  below  that  royal  dignity  that  is  here 
put  upon  Christians,  and  that  priesthood  join- 
ed Avith  it.  Under  the  law,  those  who  were 
squint-eyed  were  incapable  of  the  priesthood  ; 
truly,  this  squinting  out  to  our  own  interest, 
the  looking  aside  to  that,  in  God's  affairs  es- 
pecially, so  deforms  the  face  of  the  soul,  that 
it  makes  it  altogether  unworthy  the  honor 
of  this  spiritual  priesthood.  Oh  !  this  is  a 
large  task,  an  infinite  task.  The  several 
creatures  bear  their  part  in  this  :  the  sun 
says  somewhat,  and  moon  and  stars,  yea,  the 
lowest  have  some  share  in  it ;  the  very  plants 
and  herbs  of  the  field,  speaA  of  God  ;  and 
yet,  the  very  highest  and  best,  yea,  all  of 
them  togeiher,  the  whole  concert  of  heaven 
and  earth,  can  not  show  forth  all  his  praise 
to  the  full.  No  ;  it  is  but  a  part,  the  small 
est  part  of  that  glory  which  they  can  reach. 

We  all  pretend  to  these  dignities,  in  that 
we  profess  ourselves  Christians;  but  if  we 
have  a  mind  to  be  resolved  of  the  truth  in 
this  (for  many,  many  are  deceived  in  it!) 
we  mav,  by  asking  ourselves  seriously,  and 
answering  truly  to  these  questions:  \st. 
Whether  are  my  actions  and  the  course  of 
mv  life  such  as  give  evidence  of  the  grace  of 
God,  and  so  speak  his  praise?  If  not,  surely 
I  am  not  of  this  number  that  God  hath  thus 
called  and  dignified.  And  this  test  I  fear, 
•would  degrade  many.  2dly.  If  my  life  be 
somewhat  regular  and  Christian-like,  yet, 
whether  do  I  in  it  at  all,  singly  and  con- 
stantly -without  any  selfish  or  sinister  end, 
desire  and  seek  the  glory  of  God  alone  ? 
Otherwise,  I  way  be  like  this  chosen  gcjtera- 
tion,h\i{  I  am  not  one  of  them.  And  this, 
out  of  doubt,  would  make  the  number  yet  faT 
less.  Well,  think  on  it ;  it  is  a  niiserabit; 
condition,  for  men  either  to  be  grossly  stain- 
ing and  dishonoring  the  holy  religion  they 
profess,  or,  in  seeming  to  serve  and  honor 
God,  to  be  serving  and  seeking  themselves; 
it  is  the  wav  to  lose  themselves  forever.  Oh  I 
it  is  a  comfortable  thing  to  have  an  upright 
mind,  and  to  love  God  for  himself:  and  /ore 
seeks  not  its  own  things.  1  Cor.  xiii.  5.  They 
are  truly  happy,  who  make  this  their  work 
sincerely,  though  weakly,  to  advance  the 
!  praises  of  their  God  in  nil  thintfs,  and  who, 
i  finding  the  great  imperfection  of  their  best 


Ver.  lO.J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


diligence  in  this  work  here,  are  still  longing  to 
be  in  that  state  where  they  shall  do  it  better. 

Ver.  10.  Which  in  time  past  were  not  a  people,  but 
are  now  the  people  of  God  ;  which  had  not  obtained 
mercy,  but  now  have  obtained  mercy. 

The  love  of  God  to  his  children  is  the  great 
subject  boih  of  his  word  and  of  their  thoughts, 
ind  therefore  it  is  that  his  word  (the  rule  of 
their  thoughts  and  their  whole  lives)  speaks 
so  much  of  that  love,  to  the  very  end  that 
they  may  think  much,  and  esteem  highly  of 
it,  and  walk  answerably  to  it.  This  is  the 
scope  of  St.  Paul's  doctrine  to  the  Ephesians, 
and  the  top  of  his  desires  for  them.  See  ch. 
iii.  17.  And  this  is  our  apostle's  aim  here. 
As  he  began  the  epistle  with  opposing  their 
election  in  heaven  to  their  dispersion  on  earth, 
the  same  consideration  runs  through  the  whole 
of  it.  Here  he  is  representing  to  them  the 
great  friiit  of  that  love,  the  happy  and  high 
esiate  to  which  they  are  called  in  Christ  ; 
that  the  choosing  of  Christ  and  of  believers 
is  as  one  act,  and  they  as  one  entire  object  of 
it — one  glorious  temple,  he  the  foundation 
and  head  corner-stone,  and  they  the  edifice; 
one  honorable  fraternity,  he  the  King  of 
kings  and  great  High  Priest,  and  they  like- 
wise through  him  made  kings  and  priests 
unto  God  tlie  Father,  a  royal  priesthood  ;  he 
he  lis^ht  of  the  world,  and  they  through  him 
he  children  of  lii^ht.  Now  that  this  their 
dignity,  which  shines  so  bright  in  its  own 
luiiaie  worth,  may  yet  appear  the  more,  the 
apostle  here  sets  it  off  by  a  double  opposition, 
first,  of  the  misery  under  wliich  others  are, 
and  secoadli/,  of  that  misery  under  which 
they  themselves  were  before  tlieir  calling. 
And  this  being  set  on  both  sides,  is  as  a  dark 
shadowing  round  about  their  happiness  here 
described,  setting  otf  the  lustre  of  it. 

Their  former  misery,  expressed  in  the  for- 
mer verse  by  darkness,  is  here  more  fully  and 
plainly  set  before  their  view  in  these  words. 
They  are  borrowed  from  the  prophet  Hosea, 
ch.  ii.  23,  where  (as  is  usual  with  the  proph- 
ets) he  is  raised  up  by  the  Spirit  of  God, 
from  the  tem])oral  troubles  and  deliverances 
of  the  Israelites,  to  consider  and  foretell  that 
great  restoration  wrought  by  Jesus  Christ,  in 
purcliasing  a  new  jieople  to  himself,  made 
up  both  by  Jews  and  Gentilos  who  believe; 
and  therefore  the  prophecy  is  fit  and  appli- 
cable to  both.  So  that  the  debate  is  alto- 
gether needless,  whether  it  concerns  the 
Jews  or  Gentiles  ;  for  in  its  spiritual  sense, 
as  relating  to  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  it  fore- 
tells the  making  of  the  Gentiles,  who  were 
not  before  so,  the  people  of  God,  and  the  re- 
covery of  the  Jews  likewise,  who,  by  their 
apostacies,  and  the  captivities  and  dispersions 
which  came  upon  them  as  just  punishment 
of  those  aptjsiacies,  were  degraded  from  the 
outward  dignities  they  had  as  the  ])eople  of 
God,  and  withal  were  spiritually  miserable 
and  captives  by  nature,  and  so  in  both  re- 
spects laid  equal  with  the  Gentiles,  iind  stood 


'  as  much  in  need  of  this  restitution  as  they. 

,  St.  Paul  useih  this  passage  concerning  the 
ciUing  of  the  Gentiles,  Rom.  i'x.  25.  And 
here,  St.  Peter  writing,  as  is  most  probable, 
particularly  to  the  dispersed  Jews,  applies  it 
to  them,  as  being,  in  the  very  reference  it 
bears  to  the  Jews,  truly  fultilled  in  those 
alone  who  were  believers,  fiiith  making  them 
a  part  of  the  true  Israel  of  God,  to  vvliich  the 
promises  do  peculiarly  belong  ;  as  the  Apos- 
tle St.  Paul  argues  at  large,  in  the  ninth 
chapter  of  his  epistle  to  the  Romans. 

Their  former  misery  and  their  present  hap- 
piness we  have  here  under  a  double  expres- 
sion ;  they  were,  1.  Not  a  people  ;  2.  Desti- 

■  tute  of  mercy.    Not  the  people  of  God,  says 

j  the  prophet ;  not  a  people,  says  our  apostle , 
being  not  God's  people,  they  were  so  base 
and  miserable  as  not  to  be  Wurtliy  of  the 
name  of  a  people  at  all  ;  as  it  is  taken,  Deut. 
xxxii.  21. 

There  is  a  kind  of  being,  a  life  that  a  soul 
hath  by  a  peculiar  union  with  God,  and, 
therefore,  in  that  sense,  the  soul  without  God 
is  dead,  as  the  body  is  without  the  soul. 
Eph.  ii.  1.  Yea,  as  the  body,  separated  from 
the  soul,  is  not  only  a  lifeless  lump,  but  pu- 
trefies, and  becomes  noisome  and  abomina- 
ble, thus  the  soul,  separated  from  God,  is 
subject  to  a  more  loathsome  and  vile  putre- 
faction. See  Psal.  xiv.  3.  So  that  men  who 
are  yet  unbelievers,  are  not,  as  the  Hebrews 
expressed.  Multitudes  of  them  are  not  a 
people,  but  a  heap  of  filthy  carcasses.  Again  ; 
take  our  natunil  misery  in  the  notion  of  a 
captivity,  wliich  was  the  judgment  threat- 
ened against  the  Jews,  to  make  them  in  this 
sense  not  a  people  ;  therelnre  their  captivity 
is  often  spoken  of  by  the  prophets  as  a  death, 
and  their  restoration  as  their  resurrection,  as 
Ezek.  xxxvii.  And  as  a  captive  people  is 
civilly  dead  (as  they  speak),  so  a  soul  captive 
to  sin  and  the  Prince  of  Darkness  is  spiritu- 
ally dead,  wanting  happiness  and  well-being, 
which  if  it  never  attain,  it  had  better,  for 
itself,  not  be  at  all.  There  is  nothing  but 
disorder  and  confusion  in  the  soul  without 
God,  the  afTections  hurrying  it  away  tumul- 
tu  lusly. 

Thus  captive  sinners  are  not  j  they  are 
dead  ;  they  want  that  happy  being  that  flows 
from  God  to  the  souls  which  are  united  to 
himself,  and,  consequently,  they  must  want 
that  society  and  union  one  with  another 
which  results  from  the  former,  results  from 
the  same  union  that  beliovers  have  witii  God, 
and  the  same  being  that  they  have  in  him ; 
which  makes  them  truly  worthy  to  be  called 
a  people,  and  particularly  the  people  of  God. 
His  people  are  the  only  people  in  the  world 
worthy  to  be  called  a  people  ;  the  rest  are 
but  refuse  and  dross.  Although  in  the  -w  orld's 
esteem,  which  judges  by  its  own  rules  in  fa- 
vor of  itself,  the  people  of  God  be  as  no  body, 
no  people,  a  company  of  silly  creatures  ;  yea, 
we  are  made,  says  the  great  apostle,  as  tha 
filth  of  the  world,  and  the  off-scounng  of  ai^ 


15S 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  Tl. 


thi)i<zf,,  1  Cor.  iv.  13  :  yet  in  liis  nccount  who 
liaili  ch()seii  tlu-iii,  who aloiu-  knows  tlio  true 
vahie  of  things,  liis  people  are  the  on!//  ppo- 
ji/p,  and  all  the  rest  o<"  the  world  as  not/l|}lL:^ 
in  his  eyes.  lie  dignifies  and  beautides 
them,  and  loves  in  them  that  beauty  which 
lie  liaih  Gfiven  tiiem. 

But  luider  that  term  is  comprised,  not  only 
that  new  being  of  believers  in  each  one  of 
them  apart,  but  that  tie  and  union  that  is 
among  them  as  n^e  people,  being  incorpora- 
ted together,  and  living  under  the  same  gov- 
ernment and  laws,  without  which  a  people 
tre  but  as  the  beasts  of  the  field,  or  llw/i/hes 
tf  the  sea.  and  the  creejiin^  l/ihiffx  that  hare 
no  ruler  over  them,  as  the  prophet  speaks, 
Habak.  i.  14.  That  regular  living  in  society 
and  union  in  laws  and  policv  makes  many 
men  to  be  one  people  :  but  the  civil  union  of 
men  in  states  and  kingdoms  is  nothing  com- 
parable to  the  mysterious  union  of  the  people 
of  God  with  him,  and  one  with  another. 
That  conimonwenlih  hath  a  firmer  union 
than  all  others.  Believers  are  kni<  together  in 
Christ  as  their  head,  not  merely  as  a  civil  or 
political  head  ruling  them,  but  as  a  natural 
head  enlivening  them,  giving  them  all  one 
life.  Men  in  other  societies,  though  well  or- 
dered, yet  are  liut  as  a  multitude  of  trees, 
regularly  planted  indeed,  but  each  hatli  its 
own  root;  but  the  faithful  are  all  branches 
of  one  root.  Tlieir  union  is  so  mysterious, 
that  it  is  compared  to  the  very  union  of 
Christ  with  his  Father,  as  it  is  indeed  the 
product  of  it.    John  xvii.  21. 

People  of  God.]  I  tcill  say  to  them.  Thou 
art  my  people,  and  they  shall  say,  Thou  art 
my  God.  Hos.  ii.  23.  That  mutual  interest 
and  possession  is  the  very  foundation  of  all 
our  comfort.  He  is  the  first  chooser  ;  he  first 
sa^ys,  My  people  ;  calls  them  so,  and  makes 
them  to  be  so  ;  and  .  '"n  they  say.  My  God. 
It  is  therefore  a  relation  that  shall  hold,  and 
shall  not  break,  because  it  is  founded  upon 
his  choice  who  changes  not.  The  tenor  of 
an  external  covenant  with  a  people  (as  the 
Jews  particularly  found),  is  such  as  may  be 
broken  by  man's  unfaithfulness,  thoush  God 
remain  faithful  and  true;  but  the  new  cove- 
nant of  grace  makes  all  sure  on  all  hands, 
and  can  not  be  broken  :  the  Lord  not  only 
keeping  his  own  part,  but  likewise  perform- 
ing ours  in  us,  and  for  us,  and  establishing  us, 
that  as  he  departs  not  from  us  first,  so  we 
shall  not  depart  from  him.  /  vnll  betroth 
thee  to  me  for  ever.  It  is  an  indissoluble 
raarriage  that  is  not  in  danger  of  being  bro- 
ken either  by  divorce  or  death. 

My  people]  There  is  a  treasure  of  in- 
struction and  comfort  wrapped  up  in  that 
word,  not  only  more  than  the  profane  world 
can  imagine  (for  they  indeed  know  nothing 
at  all  of  it),  but  more  than  thev  who  are  of 
the  immber  f)f  his  people  are  able  to  conceive 
— a  deep  unfathomable.  My  people;  they 
his  portion,  and  he  theirs!  He  accounts 
no'.hing  of  all  the  world  beside  them,  and 


they  of  nothing  at  all  beside  niin  For  them 
he  continues  the  world.  J\lanv  and  gieat  are 
the  privileges  of  his  peojiU',  conianied  in  that 
great  cbarii  r,  the  holy  >criptures,  and  rich  is 
that  land  where  their  inheritance  lies;  lui 
all  is  ill  this  reciprocal,  that  He  is  their  God. 
All  his  power  and  wisdom  are  engaged  for 
their  good,  llow  great  and  many  soevt-r  are 
tlieir  enemies,  they  may  well  oppose  this  to 
all,  lie  is  their  God.  They  are  sure  to  be 
protected  and  prospered,  and  in  the  end  to 
liave  full  victory.  Hapjn/  then  is  that  people 
whose  God  is  the  Lord. 

Which  had  not  obtained  mercy.]  The  mer- 
cies of  the  Lord  to  his  chosen  are  from  ever- 
lastin<^  ;  yet,  so  long  as  his  decree  of  mercy 
runs  hid,  and  is  not  discovered  to  them  in  the 
efl'ects  of  it,  they  are  said  not  to  have  received, 
or  obtained  mercy.  When  it  begins  to  act  and 
work  in  their  effectual  calling,  then  they  find 
it  to  be  theirs.  It  was  in  a  secret  way  mo- 
ving forward  toward  them  before,  as  the  sun 
after  midnight  is  still  coming  nearer  to  us, 
though  we  perceive  not  its  aj)i)roach  till  the 
dawning  of  the  day. 

Mercy.]  The  former  word,  the  people  of 
God,  teaches  us  how  nrcat  the  change  is  that 
is  wrought  by  the  calling  of  (xod  :  this  teaches 
us,  1,  how  free  it  is.  The  people  of  God, 
that  is  the  good  attained  in  the  change :  Ob- 
tained mercy,  that  is  the  spring  whence  it 
flows.  This  is  indeed  implied  in  the  words 
of  the  change  ;  of  no  peojde — such  as  have 
no  right  to  sucli  a  dignity  at  all,  and  in  them- 
selves no  disposition  for  it— to  be  made  his 
people,  can  be  owing  to  nothing  but  free 
grace,  such  mercy  as  supposes  nothing,  and 
seeks  nothing,  but  misery  in  us,  and  works 
upon  that.  As  it  is  expressed  to  have  been 
very  free  to  this  people  of  the  Jews,  in  choos- 
ing them  before  the  rest  of  the  world,  Deut. 
vii.  7,  8,  so  it  is  to  the  spiritual  Israel  of  God, 
and  to  every  one  particularly  belonging  to 
that  company.  Why  is  it  that  he  chooseth 
one  of  a  family,  and  leaves  another,  but  be- 
cause it  pleaseth  him  ?  He  blots  out  their 
transgressions  for  his  oum  name''s  sake.  Isa. 
xliii.  And  2,  as  it  is  free  mercy,  so  it  is 
tender  mercy.  The  word,  in  the  prophets, 
signifies  tenderness,  or  bowels  of  ccnnpassion  ; 
and  such  are  the  mercies  of  our  God  toward 
us.  See  Jer.  xxxi.  20  ;  the  bowels  of  a  fa- 
ther, as  it  is  Psalm  ciii.  13  ;  and  if  you  think 
not  that  tenderness  enough,  those  of  a  mother, 
yea,  more  than  a  mother,  Isa.  xlix.  15.  3.  It 
is  rich  mercy  ;  it  delights  to  glorify  itself  in 
the  greatest  misery  ;  it  pardons  as  easily  the 
greatest  as  the  smallest  of  debts.  4.  It  is  a 
Constant,  unalterable  mercy,  a  stream  still 
running. 

Now  in  hoth  these  expressions  the  apostle 
draws  the  eyes  of  believers  to  reflect  on  their 
former  misery,  and  to  view  it  together  with 
their  present  slate.  This  is  very  frequent  in 
the  scriptures.  See  Ezek.  xvi.  ;  Eph.  xxi.  1  ; 
1  Cor.  vi.  11,  &:c.  And  it  is  of  very  great 
use  ;  it  works  the  soul  of  a  Christian  to  much 


Ver  10.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


159 


humility,  and  love,  and  thankfulness,  and 
obedience.    It  can  not  choose  but  force  him 
to  abase  himself,  and  to  magnify  the  free 
grace  aud  love  of  Got.    And  this  may  be 
one  reason  why  it  pleaseth  the  Lord  to  sus- 
pend the  conversi.n  of  some  persons  for  many 
years  of  their  life,  yea,  to  suffer  them  to  stain  ' 
those  years  with  grievous  and  gross  sins,  in 
order  that  the  riches  and  glory  of  his  grace, 
and  the  freeness  of  his  choice,  may  be  the  more 
legible  both  to  themselves  and  others.  Like- 
wise those  apprehensions  of  wrath  due  to  sin,  ' 
and  the  sights  of  hell,  as  it  were,  which  he 
brings  some  unto,  either  at  or  after  their  con- 
version, make  for  this  same  end.    That  glo- 
rious description  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  Rev.  \ 
xxi.  16,  is  abundantly  delightful  in  itself ; ' 
and  yet,  the  fiery  lake  spoiien  of  there  makes 
all  tliat  is  spoken  of  the  other  sound  much 
the  sweeter. 

But,  universally,  all  the  godly  have  this  to  ' 
consider,  that  they  iccre  strangers  and  ene-  [ 
mies  to  Gud,  and  to  think,  whence  was  it 
that  I,  a  lump  of  the  same  polluted  clay  with 
those  who  perish,  should  be  taken,  and  puri- 
fied, and  moulded  by  the  Lord's  own  hand 
for  a  vessel  of  glory  ?    Nothing  but  free  grace 
makes  the  difi'crence  ;  and  where  can  there 
be  love,  and  praises,  and  service,  found  to  an- 
swer this  ?    All  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  mer- 
cy, gifts,  and  calling  of  Christ.    And  his  min- 
isters, with  St.  Paul,  acknowledge  that  be- ' 
cause  they  have  received  mercy  they  faint 
not.    2  Cor.  iv.  1. 

But  alas  !  we  neither  enjoy  the  comfort  of 
this  mercy  as  obtained,  nor  are  grieved  for 
wanting  it,  nor  stirred  up  to  seek  after  it,  if 
not  yet  obtained.  What  do  we  think  ?  Seems 
it  a  small  thing  in  your  eyes  to  be  shut  out  • 
from  the  presence  of  God,  and  to  bear  the 
weight  of  his  wrath  for  ever,  that  you  thus 
slight  his  mercy,  and  let  it  pass  by  you  unre- 
garded? Or  shall  an  imagined  obtaining 
divert  you  from  the  real  pursuit  of  it  ?  Will  I 
you  be  willingly  deceived,  and  be  your  own 
deceivers,  in  a  matter  (jf  so  great  imoortance  ? 
You  can  not  think  too  highly  of  the  riches  of 
divine  mercy  ;  it  is  above  all  your  thoughts  ;  I 
but  remember  and  consider  this,  that  there 
is  a  ■peculiar  peap/e  of  his  own,  to  whom 
alone  all  the  riches  of  it  do  belong.  And 
therefore,  how  great  soever  it  is,  unless  you 
find  yourselves  of  that  number,  you  can  not 
lay  claim  to  (he  smallest  share  of  it. 

And  you  are  not  ignorant  what  is  their 
character,  what  a  kind  of  people  they  are, 
who  have  such  a  knowledge  of  God  as  him- 
self gives.    They  are  all  taught  of  God,  en- 
lightened and  sanctified  by  his  Spirit,  a  holy 
people,  as  he  is  a  holy  God  :  such  a'  nave  the 
riches  of  that  grace  by  which  they  '-re  saved,  i 
in  most  preciou-  esteem,  and  have  t^^ir  hearts 
by  it  inflatried  with  his  love,  and  thercAjre 
'heir  thoughis  taken  up  with  nothing  so  much 
as  siudyiiig  how  tliev  may  obey  ind  honor  ! 
h'ln  ;  rather  choosing  to  dis[)le?se  all  the  j 
^urld  than  offend  him,  and  accoun'  ng  nothing  | 


loo  dear,  yea,  nothing  good  enough  to  do  him 
service.  If  it  be  thus  with  you,  then  you 
have  indeed  obtained  mercy. 

But  if  you  be  such  as  can  wallow  in  the 
same  puddle  with  the  profane  world,  and  take 
a  share  of  their  ungodly  ways,  or  if,  though 
your  outward  carriage  be  somewhat  more 
smooth,  you  regard  iniquity  in  your  hearts, 
have  your  hearts  ardent  in  the  love  and  pur- 
suit of  the  world,  but  frozen  to  God  ;  if  you 
have  some  bosom  idol  that  you  hide  and  en- 
tertain, and  can  not  find  in  your  heart  to  part 
with  some  one  beloved  sin,  whatsoever  it  is, 
for  all  the  love  that  God  hath  manifested  to 
man  in  the  Son  of  his  love  Jesus  Christ  ;  in 
a  word,  if  you  can  please  and  delight  yourself 
in  any  way  displeasing  unto  God  (though  his 
people,  while  they  are  here,  have  spots,  yet 
these  are  not  the  spots  of  his  people  that  I 
am  now  speaking  of),  I  can  give  you  no  as- 
surance that  as  yet  you  have  obtained  mercy  : 
on  the  contrary,  it  is  certain  that  the  icrath 
of  God  is  yet  abiding  on  you,  and  if  you  con- 
tinue in  this  state,  you  are  in  apparent  danger 
of  perishing  under  it.  You  are  yet  children 
of  spiritual  darkness,  and  in  the  way  to  utter 
and  everlasting  darkness.  Know  ye  what  it 
is  to  be  destitute  of  this  mercy  ?  It  is  a  woful 
state,  though  you  had  all  worldly  enjoyments, 
and  were  at  the  top  of  ouiward  prosperitv,  to 
be  shut  out  from  the  mercy  and  love  of  God. 

There  is  nothing  doth  so  kindly  work  re- 
pentance, as  the  right  apprehension  of  the 
mercy  and  love  of  God.  The  beams  of  that 
love-  are  more  powerful  to  melt  the  heart 
than  i\\  the  flames  of  Mount  Sinai — all  tne 
threatenings  and  terrors  of  the  law.  Sin  is 
the  root  of  our  misery  :  and  therefore  it  is  the 
proper  work  of  this  mercy,  to  rescue  the  soul 
from  it,  both  from  the  guilt  and  the  power  of 
it  at  once.  Can  you  think  there  is  any  suita- 
bleness in  it,  that  the  peculiar  people  of  God 
should  despise  his  laws,  and  practise  nothing 
but  rebellions?  that  those  in  whom  he  bath 
magnified  his  mercy,  should  take  jileasure  in 
abusing  it  ?  or  that  he  hath  washed  anv  with 
the  blood  of  his  Son,  to  the  end  that  they  may 
still  wallow  again  in  the  mire  ?  As  if  we 
were  redeemed  not  from  sin,  but  to  sin  ;  as 
if  we  should  say.  We  are  delivered  to  do  all 
these  abominations,  as  the  prophet  speaks, 
Jer.  vii.  10.  Oh  !  let  us  not  dare  thus  abuse 
and  affront  the  free  grace  of  God.  i>f  we  mean 
to  be  saved  by  it  ;  but  let  as  many  as  would  be 
found  among  those  that  obtain  mercy  walk  as 
his  people,  whose  peculiar  inheritance  is  his 
mercy.  And  seeing  this  grace  of  God  hath 
appeared  unto  us,  let  us  embrace  it,  and  let  it 
enectuallv  teach  us  to  deny  ungodliness  and 
loorldly  lusts.    Til.  ii.  11,  12. 

And  if  you  be  persuaded  to  be  earnest  suiters 
for  this  mercy,  and  to  fly  unto  Jesus,  who  la 
the  true  mercy-seat,  then  t)e  assured  it  isyours. 
Let  not  the  greatest  guiltiness  scare  you  and 
drive  you  from  it,  but  rather  drive  you  the 
more  to  it  ;  for  the  greater  the  weight  of  that 
misery  is  under  which  you  lie,  the  more  need 


160 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  11 


you  liave  of  this  mercy,  and  the  more  will  be 
ihe  a^lory  of  it  in  you.  It  is  a  strange  kind  of 
arfjuinent  used  by  the  psalmist,  and  yet  a 
sure  one.— it  concludes  well  and  strongly, 
Psal.  XXV.  7  :  Lord  pardon  my  inu/uil i/,  for 
it  is  great.  The  soul  oppressed  with  the 
greatness  of  its  sin  lying  hea\'y  upon  it,  may, 
l)y  that  verv  greatnes>j.  (.if  it  pressing  upon  it, 
ursie  the  forgiveness  of  it  at  the  hands  of  free 
mercy.  It  is  for  thy  naine^s  sake, — that 
makes  it  strong  :  the  force  of  the  inference 
lies  m  that.  Thou  art  nothing,  and  worse 
than  nothing?  True:  but  all  that  ever  ob- 
tained this  mercy  were  once  so  \  they  were 
nothing  of  all  that  which  it  hath  made  them 
to  be  :  they  were  not  a  people,  had  no  interest 
in  God,  were  strangers  to  mercy,  yea,  heirs 
of  irrath  ;  yea,  they  had  not  so  much  of  a 
desire  after  God,  until  this  mercy  prevented 
them,  and  showed  itself  to  them,  and  them 
to  themselves,  and  so  moved  them  to  desire 
it,  and  caused  them  to  find  it,  canght  hold  on 
them  and  plurked  them  out  of  the  dungeon. 
And  it  is  unquestionably  still  the  same  mercy, 
and  fails  not  ;  ever  expending,  and  yet  never 
all  spent,  yea,  not  so  much  as  at  all  dimin- 
ished ;  flowing,  as  the  rivers,  from  one  age  to 
another,  serving  each  age  in  the  present,  and 
yet  no  whit  the  less  to  those  that  come  after. 
He  who  exercises  it  is  The  Lord,  forgiving 
ini'jnity,  transgression,  and  sin,  to  all  that 
come  unto  him,  and  yet,  still  keeping  mercy 
for  thousands  that  come  after. 

You  have  obtained  this  mercy,  and  have 
the  seal  of  it  within  you,  it  will  certainly  con- 
form your  hearts  to  its  own  nature;  it  will 
work  you  to  a  merciful  compassionate  temper 
of  mitid  to  the  souls  of  others  who  have  not 
yet  obtained  it.  You  will  indeed,  as  the 
Lord  doth,  hate  sin  ;  but,  as  he  doth,  like- 
wise, you  will  pity  the  sinner.  You  will  be 
so  far  from  misconstruing  and  grumbling  at 
the  long  suffering  of  God  (as  if  you  would  have 
the  brid?e  cut  because  you  are  over,  as  St. 
Augustine  speaks),  that,  on  the  contrary,  your 
great  desire  will  be  to  draw  others  to  partake 
of  the  sarai'  mercy  with  you,  knowing  it  to 
be  rich  enough  :  and  you  will,  in  your  station, 
use  yi'urbest  diligence  to  bring  in  many  to  ir, 
from  love  both  to  the  souls  of  men  and  to  the 
glory  of  God. 

And  witlial,  you  will  be  still  admiring  and 
extolling  this  mercy,  as  it  is  manifested  unto 
yourselve^,  considering  what  it  is,  and  what 
/ou  were  before  it  visited  you.  The  Israel- 
ites confessed  (at  the  offering  of  the  first 
fruits),  to  set  off  ihe  bounty  of  God,  A  Syrian 
ready  to  perish  was  my  father  ;  they  confessed 
their  captivity  in  Egypt :  but  far  poorer  and 
baser  is  our  natural  condition,  and  far  more 
precious  is  that  land,  to  the  possession  of 
which  this  free  mercy  bringeih  us. 

Do  but  call  back  your  thoughts,  you  that 
haFe  indeed  escaped  it,  and  look  but  into  that 
pit  of  misery  whence  the  hand  of  the  Lord 
hath  drawn  you  out,  and  you  can  not  fail  to 
love  him  highly,  and  still  kiss  tha  .  gracious 


•  hand,  even  while  it  is  scourgins  ^ou  with 

I  any  alHiction  whatsoever;  because  it  hatii 
once  done  this  lor  you,  namely,  p.-ui  ked  you 

1  out  of  everlasting  destruction.  So  David, 
Psal.  xl.  23,  as  the  thoughts  of  this  change 
will  teach  us  to  j)raise.  He  hath  hrouoht  mt 
up  ml  of  a  homhlc  pit :  then  follows — Ht 
hath  put  a  new  song  in  my  mouth,  even 
praise  unto  our  God  ;  not  only  redeemed  me 
from  destruction,  but  withal  crowned  me 
uith  glory  and  honor.  Psal.  ciii.  4.  He  not 
only  doth  forgive  all  our  debts,  and  let  us  out 
of  prison,  but  enriches  us  with  an  estate  that 
can  not  be  spent,  and  dignifies  us  with  a 
crown  thai  can  not  wither,  made  up  of  noth- 
ing of  ours.  These  two  considerations  will 
stretch  auu  tunc  'he  heart  very  high,  namely, 
from  what  a  \o\\  .  state  grace  brings  a  man, 
and  how  high  it  doth  exalt  him  :  in  what  a 
beggarly,  vile  condition  the  Lord  finds  us, 
and  yet,  that  he  doth  not  only  free  us  thence, 
out  puts  such  dignities  on  us.  He  raises  vp 
the  poor  out  of  Ihe  dust,  and  lifts  the  needy 
out  of  the  dunghill,  that  he  may  set  him  with 
princes,  even  with  the  princes  of  his  people. 
Psal.  cxiii.  7.  Or,  as  Joshua  the  pries:  was 
stripped  of  his  filthy  garments,  and  had  a  lair 
mitre  set  upon  his  head  (Zech.  lii.  3-5),  so, 
those  of  this  priesthood  are  dealt  withal. 

I  Now,  that  we  may  be  the  deeper  in  the 
sense  and  admiration  of  this  mercy,  it  is  in- 

I  deed  our  duty  to  seek  earnestly  after  the  evi- 
dence and  strong  assurance  of  it ;  for  things 
work  on  us  according  to  our  notice  and  ap- 

'  prehension  of  them,  and  therefore,  the  more 
riifht  assurance  we  have  of  mercy,  tli.e  more 
love,  and  thankfulness,  and  obedience,  will 
spring  from  it.  Therefore  it  is,  that  the 
apostle  here  represents  this  great  and  happy 
change  of  estate  to  Christians  as  a  thing  tha; 
they  may  know  concerning  themselves,  and 
that  they  ought  to  seek  the  knowledge  of, 
that  so  they  may  be  duly  affected  with  it. 
And  it  is  indeed  a  happy  thing,  to  have  in 
the  soul  an  extract  of  that  great  archive  and 
act  of  grace  toward  it,  that  hath  stood  in 
heaven  from  eternity.  It  is  surely  both  a 
very  comfortable  and  very  profitable  thing  tc 
find  and  to  read  clearly  the  seal  of  mercy 
upon  the  soul,  which  is  holiness,  that  by 
which  a  man  is  marked  by  God,  as  a  part  of 

,  his  peculiar  possession  that  he  hath  chosen 
out  of  the  world.  And  when  we  perceive 
anything  of  this,  let  us  look  back,  as  here  the 
apostle  would  have  us  to  do,  and  reflect  how 
God  has  called  us  from  darkness  to  his  mav 
vcllous  light. 

i  Ver.  11.  Dearly  beloved,  I  beseech  you,  as  strangeis 
and  pilgrims,  abstain  irom  fleshly  lusts,  which  war 
against  the  soul. 

The  right  spiritual  knowledge  that  a  Chris- 
tian hath  of  God  and  of  himself,  difleren  :etb 
itself  from  whatsoever  is  likest  to  it,  by  the 
'  power  and  influence  it  hath  upon  the  heart 
I  and  life.    And  in  this,  it  hath  the  lively  im- 
pression of  that  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
!  tures,  that  teaches  it ;  wherein  we  still  finj 


Ver.  11. J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


161 


throughout,  that  the  nig.,  mysteries  of  reli- 
gion are  accompanied  with  practical  truths, 
which  not  only  agree  witli  them,  but  are 
drawn  out  of  them,  and  not  violently  drawn, 
but  naturally  flowing  from  them,  as  pure 
streams  from  a  pure  spring.  Thus,  in  this 
epistle,  we  find  the  aposile  intermixing  his 
divine  doctrine  with  most  useful  and  practi- 
cal exhortations,  ch.  i.  13,  22 :  and  in  the  be- 
ginning of  this  chapter  again :  and  now  in 
these  words. 

And  upon  this  model  ought  both  the  min- 
isters of  the  gospel  to  form  their  preaching, 
and  the  hearers  their  ear.  Ministers  are  not 
to  instruct  only,  but  do  both.  To  exhort  men 
to  holiness  and  the  duties  of  a  Christian  life, 
without  instructing  them  in  the  doctrine  of 
faith,  and  bringing  them  to  Jesus  Christ,  is 
to  build  a  house  without  a  foundation.  And, 
on  the  other  side,  to  instruct  the  mind  in  the 
knowledge  of  Divine  things,  and  neglect  the 
pressmg  of  that  practice  and  power  of  godli- 
ness, which  is  the  undivided  companion  ot 
true  faith,  is  to  forget  the  building  that  ought 
to  be  raised  upon  that  foundation  once  laid, 
which  is  likewise  a  point  of  very  great  folly. 
Or,  if  men,  after  laying  that  right  founda- 
tion, do  proceed  to  the  superstructure  of  vain 
and  empty  speculations,  it  is  but  to  build  hay 
and  stuhble.,  instead  of  those  solid  truths  that 
direct  the  soul  in  the  way  to  happiness, 
which  are  of  more  solidity  and  worth  than 
gold  and  silver,  and  precious  stones.  1  Cor. 
lii.  12.  Christ,  and  ihe  doctrine  that  reveals 
him,  is  called  by  St.  Paul,  the  mystenj  of  the 
faith,  1. Tim.  iii.  9,  and  ver.  16,  the  mystery 
of  godliness  :  as  Christ  is  the  object  of  faith, 
so  is  he  the  spring  and  fountain  of  godliness. 
The  apostle  having,  we  see,  in  his  foregoing 
discourse  unfolded  the  excellency  of  Christ  in 
him,  proceeds  here  to  exhort  them  to  that 
pure  and  spiritual  temper  of  mind  and  course 
of  life  that  becomes  them  as  Christians. 

Those  hearers  are  to  blame,  and  do  preju- 
dice themselves,  who  are  attentive  only  to 
such  words  and  discourses  as  stir  the  affec- 
tions for  the  present,  and  find  no  relish  in  the 
doctrine  of  faith,  and  the  unfolding  of  those 
mysteries  that  bear  the  wlujie  weight  of  reli- 
gion, being  the  ground  both  of  all  Christian  c  »e- 
dience,  and  all  exhortations  and  persuasives  to 
it.  Those  temporary,  sudden  stirrings  of  the 
affections,  without  a  rightly  informed  mind, 
and  some  measure  of  due  knowledge  of  God 
in  Christ,  do  no  good.  It  is  the  wind  of  a 
word  of  exhortation  that  stirs  them  for  the 
time  against  their  lusts,  but  the  first  wind  of 
temptation  that  c(jmes  carries  them  away  ; 
and  thus  the  mind  is  but  tossed  to  and  fro, 
like  a  wave  ol'  the  sea,  with  all  kinds  of 
winds,  not  being  rooted  and  grounded  in  the 
faith  of  Christ  (as  it  is  Col.  ii.  7),  and  so, 
not  ranted  in  the  love  of  Christ  (Eph.  iii.  17), 
which  are  the  conquering  graces  that  subdue 
unto  a  Christian  his  lusts  and  the  world.  See 
I  John  v.  4 ;  2  Cor.  v.  14,  1.5.  Love  makes 
a  man  to  be  dead  to  himself,  and  to  the 
21 


'  world,  and  to  Itve  to  Christ  who  di(d  for 
him.  On  the  other  part,  they  are  no  less,  yea. 
more  to  blame,  who  are  glad  to  have  their 
minds  instructed  in  the  mysteries  of  the  Chris- 
!  tian  faith,  and  out  of  a  natural  desire  to 
i  know,  are  curious  to  hear  such  things  as  in- 
form them ;  but  when  it  comes  to  the  urging 
of  hoKness  and  mortifying  their  lusts,  these 
are  hard  sayings — they  had  rather  there 
were  some  way  to  receive  Christ  and  i^tain 
their  lusts  too,  and  to  bring  them  to  agree- 
ment. To  hear  of  the  mercies  of  God,  and 
the  dignities  of  his  people  in  Christ,  is  very 
pleasing  ;  but  to  have  this  follow  upon  it.  Ab- 
stain from  fleshly  fusts,  this  is  an  importune 
troublesome  discourse.  But  it  must  be  so  for 
all  that:  those  who  will  share  in  that  mercy 
and  happiness  muslahstain  from  fleshly  lusts. 

Dearly  beloved,  I  beseech  you.]  There  is 
a  faculty  of  reproving  required  in  the  minis- 
try, and  someiimes  a  necessity  of  very  sharp 
rebukes — cutting  ones.  They  who  have  much 
of  the  spirit  of  meekness,  may  have  a  rod  by 
them  too,  to  use  upon  necessity.  1  Cor.  iv. 
21.  But  surely  the  way  of  meekness  is  that 
they  use  most  willingly,  as  the  apostle  there 
implies  :  and  out  of  all  question,  with  ingen- 
uous minds,  the  mild  way  of  sweet  entrea- 
i  ties  is  very  forcible ;  as  oil  that  penetrates 
j  and  sinks  in  insensibly,  or  (to  use  that  known 
I  resemblance)  they  prevail  as  the  sun-beams, 
which,  without  any  noise,  made  the  traveller 
cast  his  cloak,  which  all  the  blustering  of  the 
I  wind  could  not  do,  but  made  him  rather 
gather  it  closer,  and  bind  it  faster  about  him. 
We  see  the  apostles  are  freiiuent  in  this 
stcain  of  entreaties,  T  beseech  you,  as  Rom. 
xii.  1.  Now  this  word  of  entreaty  is  strength- 
ened much  by  the  other.  Dearly  beloved. 
Scarcely  can  the  harshest  repr(;ofs,  much  less 
gentle  reproofs,  be  thrown  back,  that  have 
upon  them  the  stamp  of  love.  That  which 
is  known  to  come  froiu  love  can  not  readily 
but  he  so  received  too.  And  it  is  thus  ex- 
pressed for  that  very  purpose,  that  the  re- 
quest may  be  the  more  welcome:  Beloved. 
It  is  the  advice  of  a  friend,  one  that  truly 
loves  you,  and  aims  at  npihing  in  it  but  your 
I  good.  It  is  because  I  love  you,  lhat  I  en- 
treat you,  and  entreat  you  as  you  love  your- 
selves, to  abstain  from  fleshly  lusts  that  war 
war  against  your  souls.  And  what  is  our 
purpose  when  we  exhort  you  to  believe  and 
repent,  but  that  you  may  be  hapjiy  in  the 
forgiveness  of  your  sins  ?  Why  do  we  desire 
you  to  embrace  Christ,  but  that  through  him 
ye  may  have  everlasting  life?  Howsoever 
you  take  these  things,  it  is  our  duly  inces- 
sanily  to  put  you  in  mind  of  them  ;  and  to  dO' 
it  with  much  love  and  tenderness  of  affection 
to  your  souls;  not  only  pressing  you  by  fre- 
quent warnings  and  exbortings,  but  also  by 
lre(|uent  prayers  and  tears  for  your  salvation.. 

Abstain.]  It  was  a  very  wise  abridgmeiil 
that  Epictetus  made  of  philosophy,  into  those 
two  words.  Bear  and  forbear.  These  are 
truly  the  two  main  duties  that  our  apostle 


162 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  II 


recommends  to  his  ChriMian  breihren  m  this 
epistle.  Il  is  une  and  the  same  siien<rih  of 
spirit,  tliat  raises  a  man  al)ove  both  tlie  trou- 
bles and  pleasures  of  the  world,  and  makes 
aim  despise  and  trample  upon  l)o!h. 

We  have  first,  l)riell\  lo  explain  what  these 
JJcsltly  lusls  mean  :  then  lo  ccinsider  the  ex- 
liortaiation  u{  abstainim;  from  them.  " 

Unchaste  desires  are  particularly  called  by 
his  iiame  indeed,  but  to  take  it  for  these 
iiil\'in  this  place,  is  doubtless  too  narrow. 
That  which  seems  to  be  the  true  sense  of  it 
aere.  takes  in  all  undue  desires  and  use  of 
earthly  ihinirs,  and  all  the  corruj)t  affections 
)f  our  carnal  minds. 

Now  ill  that  sense,  these  fJes/ily  hisls  com- 
prehend a  great  ])art  of  the  body  of  sin.  All 
tliose  three  which  St.  John  speaks  of,  1  Epis. 
ii.  IG,  the  world's  accursed  trinity,  are  inclu- 
ded under  this  name  here  oi'  flesh/ 1/  lusts.  A 
crew  of  base,  imjjerious  masters  they  are,  10 
which  the  natural  man  is  a  slave,  serriiiff  di- 
vers litsls.  Tit.  iii.  3.  Some  are  more  addicted 
lo  the  service  of  one  kind  of  lust,  some  to  that 
of  another;  but  all  are  in  this  unhappy,  that 
they  are  strangers,  yea,  enemies  to  God,  and,  as 
the  brute  creatures,  servants  to  their  flesh  ; — 
either  covetous,  like  the  beasts  of  the  field, 
with  their  eyes  still  upon  the  earth,  or  volup- 
tuous, swimming  in  pleasures,  as  fishes  in  the 
sea,  or  like  the  fowls  of  the  air,  soaring  in 
vain  ambition.  All  the  strifes  that  are  raised 
about  these  things,  all  malice  and  envymas, 
all  bitterness  and  evil-speakmg  (Eph.  iv.  31), 
which  are  works  of  the  fesh,  and  tend  to  the 
satisfying  of  its  wicked  desires,  we  are  here 
entreated  to  abstain  from. 

To  abstain  from  these  lusts  is  to  hate  and 
fly  from  the  very  thoughts  and  first  motions 
of  them  :  and  if  surprised  by  these,  yet  to 
kill  them  there,  that  they  bring  not  forth  ; 
and  to  suspect  ourselves  even  in  those  things 
that  are  not  sinful,  at'.:  to  keep  afar  off  from 
all  inducements  to  those  polluted  ways  of  sin. 

Ill  a  word,  we  arc  to  abstain  not  only  from 
the  serving  of  our  flesh  in  things  forbidden, 
as  unjust  gain  or  unlawful  pleasures,  but  also 
from  immoderate  desire  of,  and  delighting  in, 
any  earthly  thing,  although  it  may  be  in 
itself  lawfully,  yea,  necessarily  in  some  de- 
gree, desired  and  used.  Yea,  to  have  any 
feverish,  pressing  thirst  after  gain,  even  just 
gain,  or  after  earthly  delights,  though  lawful, 
is  to  be  guilty  of  those  fleshly  lusts,  and  a 
thing  very  unjeseeming  the  dignity  of  a 
Christian.  To  see  them  that  are  clothed  in 
scarlet  cmhrar.ing  a  duntrhill  (Lam.  iv.  4)  is  a 
strange  sight.  Therefore  the  apostle  having 
so  cleared  that  immediately  before,  hath  the 
Heller  reaf.^  to  require  this  of  them,  that 
they  abstain  from  fl'shl  1/  lusts. 

Let  their  own  slaves  serve  them  :  you  are 
redeemed  and  delivered  from  them,  a  free 
people,  yea,  kings  ;  and  suits  it  with  royal 
•iignity  to  obey  vile  lusts?  You  are  priests 
consecrated  to  God,  and  will  you  tumble 
yourselves  and  your  precious  garments  in  the 


mire?  It  was  a  high  speech  of  a  heathen, 
That  he  u^as  greater,  a7id  horn  to  greater 
things,  than  to  be  a  servant  to  his  body.  How 
nmch  more  ought  he  that  is  born  again  to 
say  so,  being  born  heir  to  a  crotcn  that  fadeth 
7iot  away  ! 

Again,  as  the  honor  of  a  Christian's  estate 
is  far  above  this  baseness  of  serving  his  lusts, 
so  the  hnjipiness  and  [jleasantness  of  his  es- 
tate set  him  above  the  need  of  the  pleasures 
of  sin.  The  apostle  said  before,  Jf  ye  have 
tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gracious  desire  the 
sincere  milk  of  the  word — desire  that  word 
whert^in  ye  may  taste  more  of  his  gracious- 
ness.  And  as  that  exhortation  filly  urgeth 
the  appetite's  desire  of  the  word,  so  it  strongly 
persuades  to  this  abstinence  from  fleshly  lusts, 
yea,  to  the  disdain  and  loathing  of  them.  If 
you  have  the  least  experienceof  the  sweetness 
of  his  love,  if  you  have  but  lasted  of  the  crys- 
tal river  of  his  pleasures,  ihe  muddy  puddle- 
pleasures  of  sin  will  be  hateful  and  loathsome 
to  you  ;  yea,  the  very  Ijest  earthly  delights 
will  be  disrelished,  and  will  seem  unsavory 
to  your  tasie.  The  embittering  of  the  breasts 
of  the  world  to  the  godly  by  afflictions  doth 
something  indeed  toward  weaning  them  from 
them  ;  but  the  breasts  of  consolation  that  are 
given  them  in  their  stead  wean  much  more 
effectually. 

The  true  reason  why  we  remain  servants 
to  these  lusts,  some  to  one,  some  to  another, 
is,  because  we  are  still  strangers  to  the  love 
of  God,  and  those  pure  pleasures  that  are  in 
him.  Though  the  pleasures  of  tlie  earth  be 
poor  and  low,  and  most  unworthy  our  pur- 
suit, yet  so  long  as  men  know  no  better,  they 
will  slick  by  those  they  have,  such  as  they 
are.  The  philosopher  gives  this  as  the  rea- 
son why  men  are  so  much  set  upon  sensual 
delights,  because  they  know  not  the  higher 
pleasures  that  are  proper  to  the  soul ;  and 
they  must  have  it  some  way.  It  is  too  often 
in  vain  to  speak  to  men  in  this  strain,  to  i'ol- 
low  them  with  the  apostle's  entreaty,  I  be- 
seech you,  abstain  from  fleshly  Ivsts,  unless 
they  who  are  spoken  to  be  such  as  he  speaks 
of  in  the  former  words,  such  as  have  obtained 
mercy,  and  have  tasted  of  the  graciousness 
and  love  of  Christ,  whose  loves  are  better 
than  wine.  Cant.  i.  2.  Oh  that  we  would 
seek  the  knowledge  of  this  love  !  for,  seeking 
it,  we  should  find  it;  and  finding  it,  there 
would  need  no  force  to  pull  the  delights  of 
sin  out  of  our  hands  ;  we  should  throw  them 
away  of  out  own  accord. 

Thus  a  carnal  mind  prejudices  itself  against 
religion,  when  it  lu-ars  that  it  requires  an  ab- 
stinence from  fleshly  lusts,  and  bereaves  men 
of  their  mirth  and  delight  in  sui  :  but  the" 
know  not  that  it  is  to  make  way  for  more  re- 
fined and  precious  delights.  There  is  noth- 
ing of  this  kind  taken  from  us,  but  by  a  very 
advantageous  exchange  it  is  made  up.  In  the 
irorld  ye  shall  have  affliclion.  but  in  me  ye 
shall  have  peace.  Is  not  want  of  the  world's" 
peace  abundantly  paid  with  peace  in  Christ  ? 


Ver.  1].] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


163 


Thus,  fleshly  lusts  are  cast  out  of  the  hearts 
of  believers  as  rubbish  and  trash,  to  make 
room  for  spiritual  comLjrts.  We  are  barred 
fellowship  with  the  unfruitful  works  of  dark- 
ness, to  the  end  that  we  may  have  fellowship 
with  God  and  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  1  John  i. 
3,  7.  This  is  to  make  men  eat  angels'  food 
indeed,  as  was  said  of  the  manna.  The  serv- 
ing of  the  flash  sets  man  below  himself,  down 
among  the  beasts  ;  but  the  consolations  of  the 
Spirit,  and  communion  with  God,  raise  him 
above  himself  and  associate  him  with  the  an- 
gels. But  let  us  speak  to  the  apostle's  own 
dissuasives  from  these  lusts,  taken,  1.  From 
the  condition  of  Christians  ;  2.  From  the  con- 
dition of  those  lusts. 

1.  From  the  condition  of  Christians:  As 
strann^ers.  These  dispersed  Jews  were  stran- 
gers scattered  in  divers  countries,  ch.  i.  1,  but 
that  is  not  intended  here ;  they  are  called 
strangers  in  that  spiritual  sense  which  ap- 
plies in  common  to  all  the  saints.  Possibly, 
in  calling  them  thus,  he  alludes  to  the  out- 
ward dis  persion,  but  means,  by  the  allusion, 
to  express  their  spiritual  alienation  from  the 
world,  and  interest  in  the  New  Jerusalem. 

And  this  he  uses  as  a  very  pertinent  en- 
forcement of  his  exhortation.  Whatsoever 
others  do,  the  serving  of  the  flesh  and  love  of 
the  world  are  most  incongruous  and  unseem-| 
ly  in  you.  Consider  what  you  are.  If  you 
were  citizens  of  this  world,  then  you  might 
4rive  the  same  trade  with  them,  and  follow 
the  same  lusts  ;  but  seeing  you  are  chosen 
and  called  out  of  this  world,  and  invested  into 
a  new  society,  made  free  of  another  city,  and 
are  therefore  here  but  travellers  passing 
through  to  your  own  country,  it  is  verv  rea- 
sonable that  there  be  this  ditference  between 
vou  and  the  world,  and  while  they  live  as  at 
home,  your  carriage  be  such  as  becomes  stran- 
gers ;  not  glutting  yourselves  with  their  pleas- 
ures, not  surfeiting  upon  their  delicious  fruits, 
as  some  unwary  travellers  do  abroad,  but  as 
wise  strangers,  living  warily  and  soberly,  and 
still  minding  most  of  all  your  journey  home- 
ward, suspecting  dangers  and  snares  in  your 
way,  and  so  walking  with  holy  fear  (as' the 
Hebrew  W(jrd  for  stran!^er  imports). 

There  is,  indeed,  a  miserable  party  even 
within  a  Christian — the  remainder  of  corrup- 
tion— that  is  no  stranger  here,  and  therefore 
keeps  friendship  and  correspondence  with  the 
world,  and  will  readily  betray  him  if  he 
watch  not  the  more.  So  that  he  is  not  only 
to  fly  the  pollutions  of  the  world  that  ffre 
round  about  him,  and  to  choose  his  steps  that 
he  be  not  ensnared  from  without,  hut  he  is  to 
be  upon  a  continual  guard  against  the  lusts 
and  corruption  that  are  yet  within  himself, 
to  curb  and  control  them,  and  give  them  res- 
olute and  flat  refusals  when  they  solicit  him, 
and  to  stop  up  their  essays  anil  op|)ortunities 
of  intercourse  with  the  world,  and  such  things 
as  nourish  them,  and  so  to  do  what  he  can  to 
starve  them  out  of  the  hoLls  they  keep  with- 
in him,  and  to  strengthen  that  new  nature 


I  which  is  in  him :  to  live  and  act  according  to 
it,  though,  in  doing  so,  he  shall  be  sure  to 
I  live  as  a  stranger  here,  and  a  despised,  mock- 
ed, and  hated  stranger. 

And  it  is  not,  on  the  whole,  the  worse  that 
it  should  be  so.  If  men  in  foreign  countries 
be  subject  to  forget  their  own  at  any  time,  it 
is  surely  wljpn  they  are  most  kindly  used 
abroad,  and  are  most  at  their  ease ;  and  thus 
a  Christian  may  be  in  some  danger  when  he 
is  best  accommodated,  and  hath  most  of  the 
smiles  and  caresses  of  the  world  ;  so  that 
though  he  can  never  wholly  forget  his  home 
that  is  above,  yet  his  thoughts  of  it  will  be 
less  frequent,  and  his  desires  of  it  less  ear- 
nest, and,  it  may  be,  he  may  insensibly  slide 
into  its  customs  and  habits,  as  men  will  do 
tliat  are  well  seated  in  some  other  comitry. 
But  by  the  troubles  and  unfriendliness  of  the 
world  he  gains  this,  that  when  they  abound 
most  upon  him  he  then  feels  himself  a  stran- 
ger,  and  remembers  to  behave  as  such,  and 
thinks  often  with  much  deligh.t  and  strong 
desires  on  his  own  country,  and  the  rich  and 
sure  inheritance  that  lies  there,  and  the 
case  and  rest  he  shall  have  when  he  conies 
thither. 

And  this  will  persuade  him  strongly  to  fly 
all  polluted  ways  and  lusts  as  fast  as  the  world 
I  follows  them.  It  will  make  him  abhor  the 
pleasures  of  sin,  and  use  the  allowable  enjoy- 
ments of  this  earth  warily  and  moderately, 
never  engaging  his  heart  to  them  as  world- 
lings do,  but  always  keeping  that  free — I'ree 
from  that  earnest  desire  in  the  pursuit  of 
worldly  things,  and  that  deep  deliaht  in  the 
enjoyment  of  them,  which  the  men  of  the 
earth  bestow  upon  them.  There  is  a  dili- 
gence in  his  calling,  and  a  prudent  regard  of 
his  affairs,  not  only  permitted  to  a  Christian, 
but  required  of  him.  But  yet,  in  comparison 
of  his  great  and  hii^h  calling  (as  the  apostle 
terms  it),  he  follows  all  his  other  business 
with  a  kind  of  coldness  and  indifferency,  as 
not  caring  very  much  which  way  they  go  ; 
his  heart  is  elsewhere.  The  traveller  pro- 
vides himself  as  he  can  with  entertainment 
and  lodgings  where  he  comes  ;  if  it  be  com- 
modious, it  is  well  ;  but  if  not,  it  is  no  great 
matter.  If  he  find  but  necessaries,  he  can 
abate  delicacies  very  well  ;  for  where  he  finds 
them  in  his  way,  he  neither  can,  nor  if  he 
could,  would  choose  to  stay  there.  Though 
his  inn  were  dressed  with  the  richest  hang- 
ings and  furniture,  yet  it  is  not  his  home ;  he 
must  and  would  leave  it.  This  is  the  charac- 
ter of  ungodly  men,  they  mind  enrthli/  thini;s, 
Phil.  iii.  19  ;  they  are  drowned  in  them  ovei 
head  and  ears,  as  we  say. 

If  Christians  would  consider  how  little,  and 
for  how  little  a  while,  they  are  concerned  in 
anything  here,  they  would  go  through  any 
state  and  any  changi-s  of  state,  either  to  the 
belter  or  the  worse,  with  very  composed, 
equal  minds,  always  rno(^('rale  in  their  neces- 
sary cares, and  never  taking  any  care  at  all  foi 
the  flesh,    fulfil  the  lusts  of  it.  Rom.  xiii.  14, 


-64 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  II 


Let  them  that  have  no  better  home  than 
this  world  to  lay  claim  to,  live  here  as  at 
liome,  and  serve  their  lusts  ;  they  that  have 
all  their  portion  in  //i/.t  /ife — no  more  good  to 
look  for  than  what  they  can  catch  here — let 
them  take  their  time  ol'  the  poor  profits  and 
pli-asures  that  are  here  ;  but  you  that  have 
your  whole  estate,  all  your  riches  and  pleas- 
uies,  laid  up  in  heaven,  and  reserved  there  for 
you,  let  your  hearis  be  there,  and  your  con- 
versation there.  This  is  not  the  place  of 
your  rest,  nor  of  your  delights,  unless  you 
would  be  willing  to  change,  and  to  have  riour 
good  t/tini^s  here,  as  some  foolish  travellers, 
who  spenil  the  estate  they  should  live  on  at 
home,  in  a  little  while,  braving  it  abroad 
among  strangers.  Will  you,  with  profane 
Esau,  sell  i/our  hirthri'^ht  for  a  mess  nf  pot- 
tage— sell  eternity  for  a  moment,  and,  for  a 
moment,  sell  such  pleasures  as  a  moment  of 
them  is  more  worth  than  an  eternity  of  the 
other  ? 

2.  The  apostle  argues  from  the  condition 
of  those  lusts.  It  were  quarrel  enough  against 
feshly  lusts,  which  icar  against  the  soul,  that 
they  are  so  far  belo'w  the  soul,  that  they  can 
not  content,  no,  nor  at  all  reach  the  soul  ; 
they  are  not  a  suitable,  much  less  a  satisfy- 
ing good  to  it.  Although  sin  hath  unspeak- 
ably abused  the  soul  of  man,  yet  its  excellent 
nature  and  original  does  still  cause  a  vast  dis- 
proportion between  it  and  all  those  gross  base 
things  of  the  earth  which  concern  the  flesh, 
and  go  no  further.  But  this  is  not  all  :  these 
fleshly  lusts  are  not  only  of  no  benefit  to  the 
soul,  but  they  are  its  pernicious  enemies— 
they  war  against  it.  And  their  war  against 
it  is  all  made  up  of  stratagem  and  sleight  ; 
for  they  can  not  hurt  the  soul  but  by  itself. 
They  promise  it  some  contentment,  and  so 
gain  its  consent  to  serve  them,  and  undo  it- 
self. They  embrace  the  soul  that  they  may 
strangle  it.  The  soul  is  too  much  diverted 
from  its"  own  proper  business  bv  the  inevita- 
ble and  incessant  necessities  of  tlie  body  ;  and 
therefore  it  is  the  height  of  injustice  and  cru- 
elty to  make  it  likewise  serve  the  extrava- 
gant and  sinful  di'sires  of  the  flesh  :  so  much 
time  for  sleep,  and  so  much  for  eating  and 
drinking,  and  dressing  and  undressing  ;  and 
by  many,  the  greatest  part  of  the  time  that 
remains,  is  spent  in  laboring  and  providing 
for  these.  Look  on  the  employments  of  most 
men :  all  the  labor  of  the  husbandmen  in  the 
country,  and  of  the  tradesmen  in  the  city,  the 
multitude  of  shops  and  callings,  what  is  the 
end  of  them  all,  but  the  interest  and  service 
of  the  body  ?  And  in  all  these  the  immortal 
S'>ul  is  drawn  down  to  drudge  for  the  mortal 
body,  the  house  of  clay  wherein  it  dwells. 
And  in  the  sense  of  this,  those  souls  that  truly 
know  and  consider  themselves  in  this  condi- 
'ion,  do  often  groan  under  the  burden,  and  de- 
sire the  day  of  their  deliverance.  But  the 
service  of  the  flesh  rn  the  inordinate  lusts  of 
t  is  a  point  of  far  baser  slavery  and  indignity 
»  the  soul,  and  doth  not  only  divert  it  from 


spiritual  things  for  the  time,  but  habitually 
indisposes  it  to  every  spiritual  work,  and 
makes  it  earthly  and  sensual,  and  so  unfits  it 
for  heavenly  things.  Wiiere  these  lusts,  oi 
any  one  of  them,  have  dominion,  the  soul  can 
not  at  all  perform  any  good  ;  can  neither  jiray, 
nor  hear,  nor  read  the  word  aright  ;  and  in  so 
far  as  any  of  them  prevail  upon  the  soul  of  a 
child  of  God,  they  do  disjoint  and  disable  it 
for  holy  things.  Although  they  be  not  of  the 
grossest  kind  of  lusts,  but  such  things  as  are 
scarcely  taken  notice  of  in  a  man,  either  by 
others  or  by  his  own  conscience,  some  irregu- 
lar desires  or  entanglements  of  the  heart,  yet, 
these  little  foxes- will  destroy  the  vines  (Cant, 
ii.  15)  ;  they  will  prey  upon  the  graces  of  a 
Christian,  and  keep  them  very  low.  There- 
fore it  concerns  us  much  to  study  our  hearts, 
and  to  be  exact  in  calling  to  account  the  sev- 
eral afTections  that  are  in  them  :  otherwise, 
even  such  as  are  called  of  God,  and  have  oh- 
taincd  //icrry  (for  such  the  apostle  speaks  to), 
may  have  such  lusts  within  them  as  will 
much  abate  the  flourishing  of  their  graces 
and  the  spiritual  beauty  of  the  soul. 

The  godly  know  it  well  in  their  sad  expe- 
rience, that  their  own  hearts  do  often  deceive 
them,  harboring  and  hiding  such  things  as 
deprive  them  much  of  that  liveliness  of  grace, 
and  those  comforts  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  oth- 
erwise they  would  be  very  likely  to  attain  unto. 

This  warring  against  the  soul,  which 
means  their  mischievous  and  hurtful  nature, 
hath  this  also  included  under  it,  that  these 
lusts,  as  '  reaches  of  God's  law,  do  subject 
the  soul  tu  his  wrath.  So  that  by  this,  the 
apostle  might  well  urge  his  point,  "  Besides 
that  these  lusts  are  unworthy  of  you,  the  truth 
is,  if  you  Christians  serve  your  lusts,  you  kill 
your  souls."    So  Rom.  viii.  13. 

Consider,  when  men  are  on  their  deathbeds, 
and  near  their  entering  into  eternity,  what 
they  then  think  of  all  their  toiling  in  the 
earth,  and  serving  of  their  own  hearts  and 
lusts  in  any  kind  ;  when  they  see  that  of  all 
these  ways  nothing  remains  to  them  but  the 
guiltiness  of  their  sin,  and  the  accusations  of 
coii::.cier!ce,  and  tl.u  wrath  of  Gcd. 

Oh  !  that  you  would  be  persuaded  to  es- 
teem your  precious  souls,  and  not  wound 
them  as  you  do,  but  war  for  them,  against  all 
those  lusts  that  war  against  them.  The  soul 
of  a  Christian  is  doubly  precious,  being,  be- 
side its  natural  excellency,  ennobled  by  grace, 
and  so  twice  descended  of  Heaven  :  and  there- 
fore it  deserves  better  usage  than  to  be  turned 
into  a  scullion  to  serve  the  flesh.  The  ser- 
vice of  Jesus  Christ  is  that  which  alone  is 
fitting  to  it:  it  is  alone  honorable  for  the  soul 
to  serve  so  high  a  lord,  and  its  service  is  due 
only  to  him  who  bought  it  at  so  high  a  rate. 

Ver.  12.  Having  your  conversation  honest  among  the 
(ientiles,  that  whereas  they  speak  against  you  aa 
evil  doers,  they  may,  by  your  good  works  which 
they  shall  behold,  glorily  God  in  the  day  of  visita. 
tion. 

These  two  things  that  a  natural  man  matei 


Ver.  12.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


165 


least  account  of,  are  of  all  things  in  highest 
regard  with  a  Christian,  his  own  soul  and 
God's  glory  :  so  that  there  be  no  stronger  per- 
suasives to  him  in  anything  than  the  interest 
of  these  two.  And  by  these  the  apostle  ur- 
geth  his  present  exhortation  to  holiness  and 
blamelessness  of  life.  For  the  substance  of 
his  advice  or  request  in  this  and  the  former 
verse  is  the  same:  a  truly  honest  conversation 
is  that  only  which  is  spiritual,  not  defiled 
with  the  carnal  lusts  and  pollutions  of  the 
world. 

The  abstaining  from  those  lusts  doth  indeed 
comprehend,  not  only  the  rule  of  outward 
carriage,  but  the  inward  temper  of  the  mind  ; 
whereas  this  honest  conversation  doth  more 
expressly  concern  our  external  deportment 
among  men  ;  as  it  is  added,  honest  anions^ 
the  Gentiles,  and  so  tending  to  the  glory  of 
God.  So  that  these  two  are  inseparably  to 
be  regarded,  the  inward  disposition  of  our 
hearts,  and  the  outward  conversation  and 
course  of  our  lives. 

I  shall  speak  to  the  former  first,  as  the 
spring  of  the  latter.  Keep  thine  heart  with 
all  diliirence, — all  depends  upon  that— /or 
thence  are  the  issues  of  life.  Prov.  iv.  23. 
And  if  so,  then  the  regulatmc  of  the  tongue, 
and  eyes,  and  feet,  and  all  \rill  follow,  as 
mere  it  follows,  v.  24  :  Put  avay  from  thee 
7,  froxcard  mouth.  That  the  impure  streams 
may  cease  from  running,  the  corrupt  spring 
must  be  dried  up.  Men  may  convey  ihem  in  a 
close  and  concealed  manner,  makiHg  them  run, 
as  it  were  under  ground,  as  they  do  filth  un- 
der vaults  and  in  ditches  {sentinas  et  cloncas)  ; 
but  till  the  heart  be  renewed  and  purged  from 
base  lusts  it  will  still  be  sending  forth,  some 
way  or  other,  the  streams  of  iniquity.  As  a 
fountain  swelleth  out,  or  casteth  fijrth  her 
waters  incessantly,  so  she  casteth  out  her  wick- 
edness, says  the  prophet,  of  that  very  people 
and  citv  that  were  called  holy,  by  reason  of 
the  ordinances  of  God  and  the  profession  of 
the  true  religion  that  were  among  tiiern:  and 
therefore  it  is  the  same  prophet's  advice  from 
the  Lord,  Wash  thine  heart,  O  Jrrusnlim. 
Hou-  lon<r  shall  thy  vain  thoughts  lodge  within 
thee  ?  Jer.  vi.  7,  and  iv.  14. 

Th  is  is  the  true  method  according  to  our 
Savior's  doctrine:  make  the  tree  good,  and 
then  the  fruits  ivill  lie  food;  not  till  then  ;  for 
who  can  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  or  fss  of 
thistles?  Matt.  vii.  16,  17.  Some  good  out- 
ward actions  avail  noihins,  the  soul  being  un- 
renewed ;  as  you  may  stick  some  figs,  or  hang 
some  clusters  of  grapes,  upon  a  thorn-bush, 
but  they  can  not  grow  upon  it. 

In  this  men  deceive  themselves,  even  such 
as  have  some  thoughts  of  amendment :  when 
they  fall  into  sin,  and  are  reproved  for  it,  they 
say  land  possibly  think  so  too),  "  I  will  take 
need  to  myself,  I  will  be  rruilly  of  this  no 
more."  And  because  they  i^f)  no  deeper,  they 
are  niany  of  them  ensnared  in  the  same  kind 
again  :  but  however,  if  they  do  never  commit 
•.Hat  same  sin,  they  do  but  change  it  for  some 


other :  as  a  current  of  waters,  if  you  stop 
their  passage  one  way,  they  rest  not  till  they 
find  another.  The  conversation  can  never  be 
uniformly  and  entirely  good  till  the  frame  of 
the  heart,  the  aff'ections  and  desires  that  lodge 
in  it,  be  changed.  It  is  naturally  an  evil 
treasure  of  impure  lusts,  and  must  in  some 
way  vent  and  spend  what  it  hath  within.  It 
is  to  begin  with  the  wrong  end  of  vour  work, 
to  rectify  the  outside  first,  to  smooth  the  con- 
versation,  and  not  first  of  all  purge  the  heart. 
Evil  aff'ections  are  the  source  of  evil  speeches 
and  actions.  Whence  are  strifes  and  fight- 
ings ?  says  St.  James  ;  Are  they  not  from  your 
lusts  which  tear  in  your  memhers  ?  James  iv. 
1.  Unquiet,  unruly  lusts  within,  are  the  cause 
of  the  unquietnesses  and  contentions  abroad 
in  the  world.  One  man  will  have  his  corrupt 
will,  and  another  his,  and  thus  they  shock 
and  justle  one  another  ;  and  bv  the  cross  en- 
counters of  their  purposes,  as  flints  meeting, 
they  strike  out  those  sparks  that  set  all  on 
fire. 

!  So  then,  according  to  the  order  of  the  apos- 
tle's exhortation,  the  only  true  principle  of 
all  good  and  Christian  conversation  in  the 
world  is  the  mortifying  of  all  earthly  and 

I  sinful  lusts  in  the  heart.  While  they  have 
possession  of  the  heart,  they  do  so  clog  it, 
and  straiten  it  toward  God  and  his  ways,  that 
it  can  not  walk  constantly  in  them  ;  bui  when 
the  heart  is  freed  from  them,  it  is  enlarged, 
and  so,  as  David  speaks,  the  man  is  fitted,  not 
only  to  walk,  but  lo  run  the  tvay  of  God's  com- 
mandments. Psalm  cxix.  32.  And  without 
ihh  freeing  of  the  heart,  a  man  will  be  at  the 
best  very  uneven  and  inconsfruous  in  his  ways, 
— in  one  step  like  a  Christian,  and  in  another 
like  a  worldling  :  which  is  an  unj)leasant  and 
unprofitable  way,  not  according  to  that  word, 
I'salm  xviii.  32.  Thou  hast  set  my  feet  as 
hinds'  f pet, — set  them  even,  as  the  word  is,  not 
only  swift,  but  straight  and  even  :  and  that  is 
the  thinir  here  reijuired,  that  the  whole  course 
and  revolution  of  a  Christian's  life  be  like 
iiimself  And  that  it  may  be  so,  the  whole 
body  of  sin,  and  all  the  members  of  it,  o//  the 
deceitful  lusts,  must  he  crucified. 

In  the  words  tiiere  are  three  things  :  1.  One 
point  of  a  Christian's  ordinary  entertainment 
in  the  world  is  to  he  evil  spoken  of.  2. .Their 
good  use  of  that  evil  is  to  do  the  better  for  it. 
3.  The  good  end  and  the  certain  effect  of  their 
so  doins  is  the  glory  of  God. 

1.  Whereas  they  speak  against  you  as  evil- 
doers.] This  is  in  general  the  disease  of 
man's  corrupt  nature,  and  argues  much  the 
baseness  and  depravediiessof  it, — this  propen- 
sion  to  evil-speaking  one  of  another,  either 
blotting  ihe  best  fictions  with  misconstructnins, 
or  taking  doubtful  things  by  the  left  ear:  not 
choosing  the  most  favorable,  but,  on  the  con 
trary,  llie  very  harshest  sense  that  can  be  i)Ui 
upon  them.  Some  men  take  more  plensure 
inthennrrow  eying  of  the  true  and  real  faults 
ot  men,  and  then  speak  of  them  with  a  kind 
of  delight.    All  these  kinds  ol'evi'  speakings 


166 


A  COMMEINTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  PJ 


are  such  Iriiits  as  !:[)rinir  from  that  bitter  root 
of  (>ridi'  and  si-lf-lovf  wljicli  is  naitirally  dct-p 
fastened  in  every  rniiirs  liearl.  Bui,  besides 
this  <jeiUM-al  bent  to  evil  speakinij,  there  is  a 
particular  malice  in  the  world  a^ainsi  those 
that  are  born  of  God,  which  mus!  have  vent 
in  calumnies  and  re])roaches.  ]f  this  evil 
speakiiijx  be  the  hissinir  that  is  natural  to  the 
serpent's  seed,  surely,  by  reason  nf  their  natu- 
ral amiiiathy,  it  must  be  breathed  fonh  most 
against  the  ^e.ed  of  the  iromnn,  those  thai  are 
one  with  Jesus  Christ.  If  the  longuts  of  the 
ungodly  be  sharp  .wortis  even  to  one  another, 
they  will  iv/iet  them  sharper  than  ordinary 
when  they  are  to  use  them  against  tlie  righ- 
teous, to  woimd  their  name.  The  evil  tongue 
must  be  always  burning,  that  i.i  set  on  fir n  of 
kcll,  as  St.  James  spttiks  ;  but  against  the  god- 
ly, it  will  be  sure  to  be  heated  seven  times 
hotter  than  it  is  for  olliirs.  The  reasons  for 
this  are,  1.  Being  naturally  haters  ofriod,and 
yet  unable  to  reach  him,  what  wonder  is  it 
if  their  malice  vent  itself  against  his  image 
in  his  children,  and  labor  to  blot  and  stain 
that,  all  they  can,  with  the  foulest  calumnies  ? 
2.  Because  they  are  neither  able  nor  willing 
themselves  to  attain  unto  the  spotless,  holy 
life  of  Christians,  they  beniire  them,  and 
would  make  them  like  themselves,  by  false 
as()ersions :  they  can  not  rise  to  the  estate  of  j 
the  godly,  and  therefore  they  endeavor  to  ; 
diaw  thciu  down  to  theirs  by  detraction.  3.  [ 
The  reproaches  they  cast  upon  the  professors 
of  pure  religion  they  mean  mainly  again  reli- 
gion itself,andintend  by  them  torefiect  upon  it. 

These  evil  speakings  of  the  world  against 
j)ious  men  professing  religion  are  partly  gross 
falsehoodfj,  invented  without  the  least  ground 
or  ap[)earance  of  truth  ;  for  the  world  being 
ever  credulous  of  evil,  especially  upon  so 
deep  a  jirejudice  as  it  hath  against  the  godly, 
the  falsest  and  most  absurd  calumnies  will 
always  find  so  much  belief  as  to  make  them 
odious,  or  very  suspected  at  least,  to  such  as 
know  them  not.  This  is  the  world's  maxim, 
Lie  confidently,  and  it  will  alwai/s  do  some- 
thing ;  as  a  stone  taken  out  of  the  mire  and 
thrown  against  a  white  wall,  though  it  stick 
not  there,  but  rebound  presently  back  again, 
yet  it  leaves  a  spot  behind  it.  And  with  this 
kind  of  evil-speakings  were  the  primitive 
Christians  surcharged,  even  with  gross  and 
horrible  falsehoods,  as  all  know  who  know  [ 
anything  of  the  history  of  those  times  ;  even 
such  things  were  reported  of  them  as  the  \ 
worst  of  wicked  men  would  scarcely  be  guilty 
of  The  devil,  as  crafty  as  he  is,  makes  use,  | 
again  and  again,  of  his  old  inventions,  md 
makes  them  serve  in  several  ages  ;  for  so  were 
the  Waldenses  accused  of  inhuman  banquet- 
ings  and  beastly  promiscuous  uncleamiess,  and 
divers  things  not  once  to  he  named  among 
Christians,  much  less  lobe  practised  by  them. 
So  that  it  is  no  new  thing  to  meet  with  the 
imi)urest,  vilest  slanders,  as  the  world's  re- 
ward of  holiness  and  the  practice  of  pure  re-  j 
HffioQ. 


I  Then,  again,  consider  how  much  more  v  ill 
'  the  wicked  insult  upon  the  least  real  blemishes 
that  they  can  espy  among  the  i)roi'essors  ol' 
i  godliness.  And  in  this  there  is  a  threefolo 
I  injury  very  ordinary.  1.  Strictly  to  pry  into, 
j  and  maliciously  to  object  against  Christians, 
the  smallest  imperfections  and  frailties  of 
their  lives,  as  if  they  pretenoed  to  and  prom- 
:  ised  absolute  j)erfection.  They  do  indeed  px- 
crcise  themsr/vcs  (such  as  are  Christians  in- 
deed), with  St.  Paul,  to  keep  a  good  conscience 
in  ail  things  toward  God\ind  /nan  (Acts  xxiv. 
16)  ;  they  have  a  regard  unto  all  God's  com- 
mandments,  as  David  speaks  ;  they  have  a 
sincere  love  to  God,  which  makes  them  study 
the  exactest  obedience  they  can  reach  :  and 
this  is  an  imperfect  kind  of  perfection  ;  it  is 
evangelical,  but  not  angelical.  2.  Men  are 
apt  to  impute  the  scandalous  falls  of  some 
particular  Christians  to  the  whole  number. 
It  is  a  very  short  incomj)eient  rule,  to  make 
judgment  of  any  one  man  himself  by  one  ac- 
tion, much  more  to  measure  all  the  rest  of 
the  same  profession  by  it.  And  yet  thev  pro- 
ceed further  in  this  way  of  misjudging.  3. 
They  impute  the  personal  failings  of  men  to 
their  religion,  and  disparage  it  because  of  the 
faults  of  those  that  profess  it :  which,  as  the 
ancients  plead  well,  is  the  greatest  injustice, 
and  such  as  they  would  not  be  guilty  of 
against  their  own  philosophers.  They  could 
well  distinguish  between  their  doctrine  and 
the  manners  of  some  of  their  followers,  and 
thus  ought  they  to  have  dealt  with  Chris- 
tians too.  They  ought  to  have  considered 
their  religion  in  itself,  and  the  doctrine  that 
it  teacheth,  and  had  they  found  it  vicious,  the 
blame  had  been  just  ;  but  if  it  taught  nothing 
but  holiness  and  righteousness,  then  the  blame 
of  any  unholiness  or  unrighteousness  found 
among  Christians  ought  to  rest  upon  the  per- 
sons themselves  who  were  guilty  of  it,  and 
not  to  be  stretched  to  the  whole  number  of 
professors,  much  less  to  the  religion  that  they 
professed.  And  yet  this  is  still  the  custom 
of  the  world  upon  the  least  failing  they  can 
espy  in  the  godly,  or  such  as  seem  to  be  so  ; 
much  more  with  open  mouth  do  they  revile 
religion  upon  any  gross  sin  in  any  of  its  pro- 
fessors. 

But  seeing  this  is  the  very  character  of  a 
profane  mind,  and  the  badge  of  the  enemies 
of  religion,  beware  of  sharing  in  the  least 
with  them  in  it.  Give  not  easy  entertain- 
ment to  the  reports  of  profane  or  of  mere  civil 
men  against  the  professors  of  religion  ;  they 
are  undoubtedly  partial,  and  their  testimony 
may  be  justly  suspected.  Lend  them  not  a 
ready  ear  to  receive  their  evil-speakings, 
raucii  less  your  tongue  to  divulge  them,  and 
set  them  further  going;  yea,  take  heed  thai 
you  take  not  pleasure  in  any  the  least  kind 
of  scoff's  against  the  sincerity  and  power  of 
religion.  And,  all  of  you  who  desire  to  walk 
as  Christians,  be  very  wary  that  you  wrong 
not  one  another,  and  helj)  lot  the  wicked 
against  you,  by  your  mutual  misconotrucliuus 


ViR.  12.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


16: 


and  iniscensures  one  of  another.  Far  be  it 
from  you  to  take  pleasure  in  hearing  oihers 
evil  spoken  of:  whether  unjustly  or  though  it 
be  some  way  deservedly,  yet  let  it  be  alway 
g'rievous  to  you,  and  no  way  pleasing  to  hear 
such  things,  much  less  to  speak  of  them. 
It  is  the  devil's  deligiit  to  be  pleased  with 
evil  speakings.  The  Syrian  calls  him  an 
Akal  Kartza,  Eater  of  xlanders  or  calumnies. 
They  are  a  dish  that  pleases  his  palate,  and 
men  are  naturally  fond  of  this  diet.  In  Psalm 
XXXV.  16,  there  is  a  word  that  is  rendered 
mockers  at  feasts,  or  feasting-mockers — per- 
sons who  feasted  men's  ears  at  their  meetings 
with  speaking  of  the  faults  of  others  scoffing- 
iy,  and  therefore  shared  with  them  of  their 
cakes,  or  feasts,  as  the  word  is.  But  to  a  re- ' 
newed  Christian  mind,  which  hath  a  new 
taste,  and  all  its  senses  new,  there  is  nothing 
more  unsavory  than  to  hear  the  defaming  of 
others,  especially  of  such  as  profess  religion.  ^ 
Did  the  law  of  love  possess  our  hearts,  it 
Would  regulate  both  the  ear  and  tongue,  and 
make  them  most  tender  of  the  name  of  our 
brethren  :  it  would  teach  us  the  faculty  of  i 
covering  their  infirmities,  and  judging  favor-  j 
ably,  taking  always  the  best  side  and  most 
charitable  sense  of  their  actions:  it  would 
teach  us  to  blunt  the  ed<re  of  our  censures 
uptjn  ourselves,  our  own  hard  hearts  and  re- 
bellious wills  within,  that  they  might  remain 
no  more  sharj)  against  others  than  is  needful 
for  their  good.  [ 
And  this  would  cut  short  those  that  are  | 
without  from  a  great  deal  of  provisions  of 
evil-speaking  against  Chrisiians  that  they 
many  times  are  furnished  with  hy  Christians 
themselves,  through  their  uncharitable  car- 
riage one  toward  another.  However,  this 
being  the  hard  measure  that  they  always  hnd 
in  the  world,  it  is  their  wisdom  to  consider  it 
aright,  and  to  study  that  good  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  apostle's  advice,  may  be  extracted 
out  of  it,  and  that  is  the  second  thing  to  be 
spoken  to. 

Having  your  conversation  honest  among 
the  Gentiles.]  As  the  sovereign  power  of 
drawing  good  out  of  evil  resides  in  God,  and 
argue.-"  his  primitive  goodness,  so  he  teachetli 
his  own  children  some  faculty  this  way,  that 
they  may  resemble  hi  in  in  ii.  He  teacheih  them 
to  draw  sweetness  out  of  their  bitterest  afliic- 
tions,  and  increase  of  inward  peace  from 
their  outward  troubles.  And  as  these  buffei- 
inffs  of  the  tongue  are  no  small  part  of  their 
sufferings,  sj  they  reap  no  small  benefit  by 
them  many  ways:  particularly  in  this  one, 
that  thev  order  their  conversation  the  better, 
and  walk  tjie  more  exactly  for  it. 

And  this,  no  doubt,  in  Divine  providence, 
is  intended  and  ordered  fir  iheir  good,  as  are 
ail  their  other  trials.  The  sharp  censures 
and  evil  speakings  that  a  Christian  is  encom- 
passed with  in  the  world  is  no  other  than  a 
hedge  of  thorns  set  on  every  side,  that  he  go 
not  out  of  his  way,  but  keep  straight  on  in  it 
between  them,  not  declining  to  the  right 


hand  nor  to  the  left :  whereas,  if  they  founa 
nothing  but  the  favor  and  good  opinion  of  the 
world,  they  might,  as  in  a  way  unhedged,  be 
subject  to  expatiate  and  wander  out  into  the 
meadows  of  carnal  pleasures  that  are  abou 
them,  which  would  call  and  allure  them,  an  J 
often  divert  them  from  their  journey. 

And  thus  it  might  fall  oui,  that  Christians 
would  deserve  censure  and  evil-speakings  the 
more,  if  they  did  not  usually  suffer  them  un- 
deserved. This  then  turns  into  a  great  ad- 
vantage to  them,  making  their  conduct  more 
answerable  to  those  two  things  that  our  Sa- 
vior joins,  ivalch  and  pray  ;  causing  them  to 
be  the  more  vigilant  over  themselves,  and 
the  more  earnest  with  God  fur  his  watching 
over  them  and  conducting  of  them.  Make  my 
ivays  straight,  says  David,  because  of  mine 
enemies,  Psal.  v.  8  ;  the  word  is  my  observers, 
or  those  that  scan  my  ways,  every  foot  of 
them  :  that  examine  them  as  a  verse,  or  as  a 
song  of  music  :  if  there  be  but  a  wrong  meas- 
ure in  them,  they  will  not  let  it  slip,  but  will 
be  sure  to  mark  it. 

And  if  the  enemies  of  the  godly  wait  for 
their  halting,  shall  not  they  scan  their  own 
paths  themselves,  that  they  may  not  halt  ? 
shall  they  not  examine  them  to  order  them, 
as  the  wicked  do  to  censure  them:  still  de- 
pending wholly  upon  the  spirit  of  Gud  as 
their  guide,  to  lead  them  into  all  truth,  and 
to  teach  them  how  to  order  their  conversation 
aright,  that  it  may  be  all  of  a  piece,  holy  and 
blameless,  and  still  like  itself? 

Honest.]  Fair  or  beautiful :  the  same  word 
doth  filly  signify  goodness  and  beauty,  for 
that  which  is  the  truest  and  most  lasting 
beauty  grows  fresher  in  old  age,  as  the  psalm- 
ist speaks  of  the  righteous,  those  ihai^Jic  plant- 
ed in  the  house  of  God,  Psalm  xcii.  12-14. 
"  Could  the  beauty  of  virtue  be  seen,"  said  a 
philosopher,  "  it  would  draw  all  to  love  it." 
A  Christian,  holy  conversation  hath  such  a 
beauty,  that  when  they  who  are  strangers  to 
it  begin  to  discern  it  at  all  aright,  they  can 
not  choose  but  love  it;  and  where  it  begets 
not  love,  yet  it  silences  calumny,  or  at  least 
evinces  its  falsehood.  , 
Tlie  goodness  or  beauty  of  a  Christian's 
I  conversation  consisting  in  symmetry  and  con- 
I  forniity  (o  the  word  of  (lod  as  its  rule,  he 
ought  diligently  to  study  that  rule,  and  to 
I  square  his  ways  h\  it ;  not  to  walk  at  random, 
^  but  to  apply  that  rule  to  every  step  at  home 
1  and  abroad,  and  to  be  as  careful  to  keep  the 
beauty  of  his  ways  unspotted,  as  those  wo- 
I  men  are  of  their  faces  and  attire  who  are 
j  most  studious  of  comeliness. 

Rut  so  far  arc  we  who  call  ourselves  Chris- 
'  tians  from  this  exact  regard  of  our  conversa- 
tion, that  the  most  part  not  only  have  many 
f(;ul  spots,  but  they  themselves,  and  all  their 
ways,  are  nothing  but  defilement,  all  one 
spot  :  as  our  apostle  calls  them,  blots  are  iheij 
and  spots,  2  Pet.  ii.  13.  And  even  they  who 
are  Christians  indeed,  yet  are  not  so  walch- 
I  ful  and  accurate  in  all  their  ways  as  becomes 


168 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


iCllAP.  II. 


them,  but  5-tain  their  holy  profession  etther 
Willi  pride,  ur  covetousness,  or  contentious,  or 
some  other  sueii  like  uncotneliness. 

Let  us  all,  liieref'orc,  resolve  more  to  study 
this  irood  and  comely  conversation,  the  apos- 
tle here  exhorts  to,  that  it  may  be  sucii  as 
hccoiiiclh  the  :;ospel  "f  Christ,  as  St,  Paul 
desires  his  Pliilippians,  ch.  i,  27.  And  it' you 
live  anions  ])rofane  jiersons,  who  will  be  to 
you  as  the  uiibelieviiifi;  Gentiles  were  to  iliese 
believinf;  Jews  who  lived  among  them,  tra- 
ducers  of  you,  and  gi'^'tni  to  speak  evil  of 
you,  and  of  religion  in  you,  (rouble  not  your- 
selves with  many  apologies  and  clearings 
when  you  are  evil  spoken  of,  but  let  the  track 
of  your  life  answer  for  you,  your  honest  and 
blameless  conversation  :  that  will  be  the  short- 
est, and  most  real  and  effectual  way  of  con- 
futing all  obloquies ;  as  when  one  in  the 
schools  was  proving  by  a  sopiiistical  arfru- 
ment  that  there  could  be  no  motion,  the  phi- 
losopher answered  it  fully  and  shortly  by 
rising  up  and  walking,  Tf  thou  wouldst  pay 
them  lioiiie,  this  is  a  kind  of  revenge  not  only 
allowed  thee,  but  recommended  to  thee  ;  be 
avenged  on  evil  speakings  by  well  doing, 
shame  them  from  it.  It  was  a  king  that  said. 
It  was  kin<^/y  to  do  veil  and  he  ill-spoken  of. 
Well  may  Christians  acknowledge  it  to  be 
true,  when  they  consider  tliat  it  was  the  lot 
of  their  king,  Jesus  Christ  ;  and  well  may 
they  be  content,  seeing  he  hath  made 
them  likewise  kins^s  (as  we  heard,  ver,  9), 
to  be  conformable  to  him  in  this  tod,  this 
kingly  way  of  sufTerinir,  to  be  unjustly  evil 
spoken  of,  and  still  to  go  on  in  doing  the  more 
good  :  always  aiming  in  so  doing  (as  our  Lord 
did),  at  the  glory  of  our  Heavenly  Father, 
This  is  the  third  thing. 

That  they  may  glorify  God  in  the  day  of 
their  visitation.  'He  says  not,  They  shall 
praise  or  commend  you,  but  shall  glorify 
God.  In  what  way  soever  this  time,  this  day 
of  visitation  be  taken,  the  effect  itself  is  thi.s, 
They  shall  glorify  God.  It  is  this  the  apos- 
tle still  holds  before  the.,  eye,  as  that  upon 
which  a  Christian  doth  willingly  set  his  eye, 
and  keep  it  fixed  in  all  his  ways.  He  doth 
not  teach  them  to  be  sensible  of  their  own 
esteem  as  it  concerns  themselves,  but  only  as 
the  glory  of  their  God  is  interested  in  it. 
Were  it  not  for  this,  a  generous-minded  Chris, 
tian  could  set  a  very  light  rate  upon  all  the 
thoughts  and  speeches  of  men  concerning 
him,  whether  good  o  bad  ;  and  could  easily 
drown  all  their  mistakes  in  the  conscience  of 
the  favor  and  approbation  of  his  God.  It  is 
a  very  small  thing  for  me  to  he  jvdged  of  you. 
or  of  the  day  of  man  :  he  that  jiidgeth  me  is 
the  Lord.  i  Cor.  iv.  3.  Man  hath  a  day  of 
judging,  but  it,  and  his  judgment  with  it, 
soon  passes  away  ;  but  God  hath  his  day,  and 
it,  together  with  his  sentence,  abideth  for 
ever,  as  the  apostle  there  adds.  As  if  he 
tiiould  say,  T  rqipcal  to  (iod  ;  but  considering 
that  the  religion  he  professes,  and  the  God 
'*hoiD  he  worships  in  that  religion,  are 


wronged  by  tiiose  reproaches,  and  that  the 
calumnies  cast  upon  Christians  reflect  upon 
their  Lord — this  is  the  thing  that  makes  him 
sensible  ;  he  feels  on  that  side  only.  The  re- 
proaches of  them  that  reproached  thee  a^ 
fallen  xipon  me,  says  the  psalmist :  and  this 
makes  a  Christian  desirous  to  vindicate,  even 
to  men,  his  religion  and  his  God,  without  re- 
gard to  himself;  because  he  may  say,  the  r«« 
proachcs  of  them  that  reproach  only  me,  have 
fallen  upon  thee.  Psalm  Ixix,  9. 

This  is  his  intent  in  the  holiness  and  integ- 
rity of  his  life,  that  (iod  may  be  glorified: 
this  is  the  axis  about  which  all  this  good  con- 
versation moves  and  turns  continually. 

And  he  that  forgets  this,  let  his  conversa- 
tion be  ever  so  jilausible  and  spotless,  knows 
not  what  it  is  to  be  a  Christian.  As  they  .say 
of  the  eagles,  who  try  their  young  ones 
whether  they  be  of  the  right  kind  or  not,  by 
holding  them  before  the  sun,  and  if  they  can 
look  steadfastly  upon  it,  ihey  own  them,  if 
not,  they  throw  them  away  :  this  is  the  true 
evidence  of  an  upright  and  real  Christian,  to 
have  a  steadfast  eye  on  the  glory  of  God,  the 
Father  of  lights.  In  all,  let  God  be  glorified, 
says  the  Christian,  and  that  suffices :  that  is 
the  sum  of  his  desires.  He  is  far  from  glory- 
ing in  himself,  or  seeking  to  raise  himself,  for 
he  knows  that  of  himself  he  is  nothing,  but 
by  the  free  grace  of  God  he  is  what  he  is, 
"  Whence  any  glorying  to  thee,  rottenness  and 
dust?"  says  St.  Bernard.  "Whence  is  it  to 
thee  if  thou  are  holy  ?  Is  it  not  the  Holy 
Spirit  that  hath  sanctified  thee?  If  thou 
couldsl  work  miracles,  though  they  were 
done  by  thy  hand,  yet  it  were  not  by  ihy 
power,  but  by  the  power  of  God." 

To  the  end  that  rny  glory  may  sine  praise 
unto  thee,  saysDavid,  Psalm  xxx,  \2.  Whether 
his  tongue,  or  his  soul,  or  both,  be  meant, 
what  he  calls  his  glory,  he  shows  us,  anr* 
what  use  he  hath  for  it,  namely,  to  give 
the  Lord  glory,  to  sing  his  praises,  and  that 
then  it  was  truly  David's  glory  when  it  was 
so  employed,  in  giving  glory  to  him  whose 
peculiar  due  glory  is.  What  have  we  to  do 
in  the  world,  as  his  creatures,  once  and  again 
his  creatures,  his  new  creatures,  created  unto 
good  works,  but  to  exercise  ourselves  in  those, 
and  by  those  to  advance  his  glory,  that  all 
may  return  to  him  hum  whom  all  is,  as  the 
rivers  run  back  to  the  sea  whence  they  came  ? 
Of  him,  and  through  him,  and  therefore,  for 
him  are  all  things,  says  the  apostle,  Rom.  xi. 
36.  'fhey  that  serve  base  gods,  seek  how  to 
advance  and  aggrandize  them.  The  cove- 
tous man  studies  to  make  his  Mammon  as 
great  as  he  can,  all  his  thoughts  and  pains 
run  upon  that  service,  and  so  do  the  voluptu- 
ous and  ambitious  for  theirs;  and  shall  not 
they  who  profess  themselves  to  he  the  ser- 
vants of  the  only  great  and  the  only  true  God, 
have  thei|f  hearts  much  more,  at  least  as 
much  possessed  with  desires  of  honoring  and 
exalting  him  ?  Should  not  this  be  their  pre- 
dominant design  and  thought? — Whaiwa,' 


Ver  13.  M.-j 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


169 


shall  I  most  advance  the  glory  of  my  God? 
How  shall  I,  who  am  under  stronger  obliga- 
tions than  they  all,  set  in  with  the  heavens 
and  the  earth,  and  the  other  creatures,  to  de- 
clare his  excellency,  his  greatness,  and  his 
goodness  ? 

In  the  day  of  visitation.~\  The  behold- 
ing of  your  good  works  may  work  this  in 
them,  that  they  may  be  gained  to  acknowl- 
edge and  embrace  that  religion,  and  that 
God,  which  for  the  present  they  reject :  but 
that  it  may  be  thus,  they  must  be  visited 
with  that  same  light  and  grace  from  above, 
which  hath  sanctified  you.  This,  I  conceive, 
is  the  sense  of  this  word,  though  it  may  be, 
and  is  taken  divers  other  ways  by  interpreters. 
Possibly,  in  xhh  day  of  visitation,'\s  implied  the 
clearer  preaching  oi  the  gospel  among  those 
Gentiles,  where  the  dispersed  Jews  dwelt  ; 
and  that  when  they  should  compare  the  light 
of  that  doctrine  with  the  light  of  their  lives, 
and  find  the  agreement  between  them,  that 
might  be  helpful  to  their  effectual  calling, 
and  so  they  might  glorify  God.  But  to  the 
end  that  they  might  do  thus  indeed,  there 
must  be,  along  with  the  word  of  God,  and  the 
good  works  of  his  people,  a  particular  visit- 
ing of  their  souls  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  Your 
good  conversation  may  be  one  good  mean  of 
their  conversion ;  therefore  this  may  be  a 
motive  to  that ;  but  to  make  it  an  effectual 
mean,  this  day. of  gracious  visitation  must 
dawn  upon  them  ;  the  day-sprtng  from  on 
high  must  visit  them,  as  it  is  Luke  i.  7,  8. 

Ver.  13.  Submit  yourselves  unto  every  ordinance  of 
man  for  the  Lord's  sake,  whether  it  be  to  the  king, 
as  supreme  ; 

Ver.  14.  Or  vuito  governors,  as  unto  them  tVuit  are 
sent  by  him  for  the  punishment  of  evil-doers,  and 
for  the  praise  of  them  that  do  well. 

It  is  one  of  the  falsest,  and  yet  one  of  the 
commonest  prejudices  that  the  world  hath 
always  entertained  against  true  religion,  that 
it  is  an  enemy  to  civil  power  and  government. 
The  adversaries  of  the  Jews  charged  this 
fault  upon  their  city,  the  then  seat  of  the  true 
worship  of  God,  Ezra  iv.  15.  The  Jews 
charged  it  upon  the  preachers  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  Acts  xvii.  7,  as  they  pretended 
the  same  quarrel  against  Christ  himself  And 
generally,  the  enemies  of  the  Christians  of 
piimitive  times,  loaded  them  with  the  slan- 
der of  rebellion  and  contetnpt  of  authority. 
Therefore  our  apostle,  descending  to  particu- 
lar rules  of  Christian  life,  by  which  it  may 
be  blameless,  and  silence  calumny,  begins 
with  this,  not  only  as  a  thing  of  prime  im- 
portance in  itself,  but  as  particularly  fit  fir 
those  he  wrote  to,  being  at  once  both  Jews 
and  Christians,  for  the  clearing  of  themselves 
and  their  religion  :  Su/imit  yoursfJvcs,  &c. 

There  are  in  the  words  divers  particu- 
lars to  be  considered,  all  concurring  to  press 
this  main  duty  of  obedience  to  magistrates, 
■lot  only  as  well  consistent  with  true  religi(jn, 
but  as  indeed  iiiseparnble  from  it.  Not  to 
f*rv.el  out  the  words  into  many  pieces,  they 
22 


may,  I  conceive,  be  all  not  unfitly  comprised 
under  these  two:  1.  The  extent  of  this  duty  ; 
2.  The  ground  of  it. 

1.  The  extent  of  the  duty,  viz..  To  all  civil 
poicer,  of  what  kind  soever,  for  the  time  re- 
ceived and  authorized  ;  there  being  no  need 
of  questioning  what  was  the  rise  and  original 
of  civil  power,  either  in  the  nature  of  it,  or  ii? 
the  persons  of  those  that  are  in  possession  of 
it.  For  if  you  will  trace  them  quite  through 
in  the  succession  of  ages,  and  narrowly  eye 
their  whola  circle,  there  be  few  crowns  in 
the  world,  in  which  there  will  not  be  found 
some  crack  or  other,  more  or.  less.  If  you 
look  on  those  great  monarchies  in  Daniel's 
vision,  you  see  one  of  them  built  up  upon  the 
ruins  of  another  ;  and  all  of  them  represented 
by  terrible  devouring  beasts  of  monstrous 
j  shape.  And  whether  the  Roman  empire  be 
I  the  fourth  there,  as  many  take  it,  or  not,  yet, 
in  the  thing  spoken  of  that  fourth,  as  well  as 
of  the  rest,  it  is  inferior  to  none  of  them,  en- 
larging itself  by  conquests  in  all  parts  of  the 
world.  And  under  it  were  the  provinces  to 
which  this  epistle  is  addressed  :  yet  the  apos- 
tle enjoins  his  brethren  subjection  and  obedi- 
ence to  its  authority. 

Nor  is  it  a  question  so  to  be  moved  as  to 
suspend,  or  at  all  abate,  our  obedience  to  that 
which  possesses  in  the  present  where  we 
live,  what  form  of  government  is  most  just 
and  commodious. 

God  hath  indeed  been  more  express  in  the 
officers  and  government  of  his  own  house, 
his  church  ;  but  civil  societies  he  hatli  left  at 
liberty,  in  the  choosing  and  modelling  uf  civil 
government,  though  always,  indeed,  cjver- 
ruling  their  choice  and  changes  in  that,  by 
the  secret  hand  of  his  wise  and  powerful 
providence.  Yet  he  hath  set  them  no  partic- 
ular rule  touching  the  frame  of  it ;  only,  the 
common  rule  of  equity  and  justice  ought  to 
be  regarded,  both  in  the  contriving  and  man- 
aging of  government.  Nevertiieless,  though 
it  be  some  way  defective  in  both,  those  that 
are  subject  to  it,  are  in  all  things  lawful  tc 
submit  to  its  authority,  whether  supreme  oi 
subordinate  ;  as  we  have  it  here  expressly 
Whether  to  the  king  as  supreme  (namely,  tc 
the  emperor),  or  to  the  governnrs  sent  hy 
him; — which,  though  a  judicious  interpretei 
refers  to  God,  and  will  not  admit  of  any  oth- 
er sense,  yet  it  seems  most  suitable  both  tc 
the  words,  and  to  the  nature  of  the  govern- 
ment of  those  provinces,  to  take  that  woru 
to  him  as  relating  to  the  king  ;  for  the  ex- 
pression them  that  are  sent,  answers  to  the 
other,  the  king  as  supreme,  and  so  is  a  very 
clear  designation  of  the  inferior  governors 
of  those  times  and  places.  And  whatsoever 
was  their  end  who  sent  them,  and  their  car- 
riage who  were  sent,  that  which  the  apostle 
adds,  expresses  thet'nd  for  which  they  should 
be  sent  to  govern,  and  at  which  they  should 
aim  in  govr^rnnig,  as  the  true  end  of  all  gov- 
ernment. And,  (lioui^h  they  were  not  fully 
true  to  that  end  in  their  deportment,  but  pos- 


no 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[(JiiAP.  n. 


sibly  uid  many  thinjr?  unjustly,  yet,  as  Goil 
haili  ordaiiii'il  aulliority  for  this  cud,  there  is 
alw  ays  so  much  justice  in  tlie  most  depraved 
governmeni,  as  renders  it  a  public  good,  and 
therefore  puts  upon  inferiors  an  obliijation  to 
obedience  :  and  this  h  ads  us  to  consider, 

^dly.  The  irrciund  of  this  duly.  The  main 
ground  of  subniittinij  to  liunian  authority,  is 
tlie  interest  that  divine  autliority  hatii  in  it, 
God  liavini,r  bulb  apjiointed  civil  government 
as  a  conunon  i^ood  among  men,  and  particu- 
larly commanded  his  j)eople  obedience  to  it, 
as  a  particular  good  to  them,  and  a  thing 
very  suitable  with  their  profession :  it  isforlhe 
Liird's  sake.  This  word  carries  the  whole 
weight  of  the  duty,  and  is  a  counterbalance 
to  ihe  former,  wliich  seems  to  be  therefore 
on  purpose  so  expressed,  that  this  may  an- 
swer it.  Although  civil  authority,  in  regard 
of  particular  forms  of  government,  and  the 
choice  of  particular  persons  to  govern,  is  but 
a  human  ordinance,  or  nifin''s  crealvre,  as  the 
Word  is,  yet,  both  the  good  of  government, 
and  the  duty  of  subjection  to  it,  are  God's 
ordinance:  and  therefore, /or  his  sake  submit 
yourselves. 

[1.]  God  hath  in  general  instituted  civil 
government  for  the  good  of  human  society, 
and  still  there  is  good  in  it.  Tyranny  is  bet- 
ter than  anarchy.  [2.]  It  is  by  his  provi- 
dence that  men  are  advanced  to  places  of 
authority.  See  Psalm  Ixxv.  6,  7  ;  Dan.  iv.  25  ; 
John  xix.  11.  [3.]  It  is  his  command,  that 
obedience  be  yielded  to  them.  Rom.  xiii.  1  ; 
Tit.  iii.  1.  &c.  And  the  consideration  of  this 
ties  a  Christian  to  all  loyalty  and  due  obedi- 
ence, which,  being  still  for  the  Lord\<s  sake, 
can  not  hold  in  anything  that  is  against  the 
Lord's  own  command  :  for  kings  and  rulers, 
in  such  a  case,  leave  their  station.  Now  the 
subjection  here  enjoined  is,  r-,r,i>  lyrr,  he  subject 
to  them,  as  it  were  in  your  rank,  still  in  sub- 
ordination to  (lod  ;  but  if  they  s.o  out  of  that 
even  line,  Ibllow  them  not.  They  that  obey 
the  unlawful  commands  of  kings  do  it  in  re- 
gard to  their  god,  no  question,  but  that  their 
god  is  their  belhj,  or  their  ambition,  or  their 
avarice. 

But  not  only  ought  the  exercise  of  author- 
ity, and  submission  to  it,  to  be  confined  to 
things  just  and  lawful  in  themselves,  but  the 
very  pur[)ose  of  the  heart,  both  in  command 
and  obedience,  should  be  in  the  Lord,  and  for 
his  sake.  This  is  the  only  straight,  and  the 
only  safe  rule,  both  for  rulers  and  for  people 
to  walk  by.  Would  kin^s,  and  the  other  pow- 
ers of  the  world  consider  the  supremacy  and 
greatness  of  that  King  of  whom  they  hold 
all  their  crowns  and  dignities,  they  would  be 
no  less  careful  of  their  submission  and  hom- 
age to  him,  than  they  are  desirous  of  their 
people's  submission  to  themselves. 

I  Will  noi  speak  at  all  of  their  civil  obliga- 
tions to  their  people,  and  the  covenant  of 
justice  that  with  good  reason  is  betwixt  them 
\\\  thefundamental  constitutions  of  all  well-or- 
■iered  kingdoms  ;  nor  meddle  with  that  point 


— the  dependance  that  human  autlnnity  hatli 
upon  the  societies  of  men  over  whom  it  is, 
acct)rding  to  which  it  is  here  called  murCi 
ordinance,  or  creature,  lit'Oo'-trm-ri  attitci.  This 
is  a  thing  that  the  greatest  and  most  absolute 
of  princes  can  not  deny,  that  all  their  author- 
ity is  dependant  upon  the  great  God,  both  as 
the  author  of  it  in  the  general,  and  the  sov- 
ereign disposer  of  it  to  particular  men,  giv 
rng  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  to  whom  he 
will.  Dan.  IV.  25.  And  therefore  he  may 
most  justly  require  obedience  and  fealty  of 
them,  that  they  serve  the  Lord  in  fear,  and 
if  they  rejoice  in  their  dignities  over  men, 
yet  that  they  do  it  with  trembling,  under  a 
sense  of  their  duty  to  God,  and  that  they 
throw  down  their  crowns  at  the  feet  of  Christ, 
the  Lord\<t  anointed. 

And  to  this  they  are  the  more  obliged, 
considering  that  religion  and  the  gospel  of 
Christ  do  so  much  press  the  duty  of  their 
people's  obedience  to  them;  so  that  they 
wrong  both  Christianity  and  themselves  very 
far,  in  mistaking  it  as  an  enemy  to  their  au- 
thority, when  it  is  so  far  from  prejudicing  it, 
that  it  confirms  it,  and  i)leads  for  it.  Surely 
they  do  most  ungratel'ully  requite  the  Lord 
and  his  Christ,  wlien  they  say  (as  Psalm  ii.), 
Let  us  break  their  bands  asunder,  and  cast 
i  away  their  cords  from  us.  Whereas  the  Lord 
binds  the  cords  of  kings  and  their  authority 
fast  upon  their  people  :  not  the  cords  of  tyr- 
anny indeed,  to  bind  the  subjects  as  beasts  to 
be  sacrifices  to  the  passion  of  their  rulers,  but 
the  cords  of  just  and  due  obedience  to  their 
kings  and  governors.  The  Lord  doth  (as  you 
see  here)  bind  it  upon  all  that  profess  his 
name  and  strensfthens  it  by  the  respect  his 
people  carry  to  himself,  enjoining  them,  that 
for  his  sake,  they  would  obey  tlieir  rulers. 
So  that  kings  need  notl'ear  true  religion,  that 
it  will  ever  favor  anythinsr  that  can  justly 
be  called  rebellion  ;  on  the  contrary,  i;  still 
urges  loyalty  and  obedience:  so  that  as  they 
ought  in  duty,  they  may  in  true  policy  and 
wisdom,  befriend  true  religion,  as  a  special 
friend  to  their  authority,  and  hate  that  re- 
li<,non  of  Rorne  which  is  indeed  rebellion, 
and  that  mother  of  abominations  who  makes 
the  kings  of  the  earth  drunk  rvith  her  cup, 
and  makes  them  dream  of  increase  of  au- 
thority while  they  are  truly  on  the  losing 
hana.  But  besides  that  they  owe  their  power 
to  the  advancement  of  Christ's  kingdom,  by 
so  employing  themselves  as  to  strengthen  it, 
they  do  themselves  good  :  they  confirm  their 
own  thrones,  when  they  erect  his  :  as  it  was 
said  of  Ca;sar,  that  by  setting  up  Pompey's 
statue,  he  settled  and  fastened  his  own. 

But  it  is  an  evil  too  natural  to  men,  to 
forget  the  true  end  and  ase  of  any  good 
the  Lord  confers  on  them.  And  thus  kings 
and  rulers  loo  often  consider  not  for  what 
they  are  exalted  ;  they  think  it  is  for  them- 
selves, to  honor  and  please  themselves,  and 
not  to  honor  God  and  benefit  their  people,  to 
encourage  and  reward  the  good  (as  here  it  is' , 


Ver.  15,  16.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


171 


and  to  punish  the  wicked.  They  are  set  on  ' 
)\igh  for  the  good  of  those  that  are  below 
them,  tliat  they  may  be  refreshed  witli  their 
light  and  influence;  as  the  lights  of  heaven 
are  set  there  in  the  highest  parts  of  the  world, 
for  the  use  and  benefit  of  the  very  lowest. 
God  set  them  in  the  firmament  of  heaven, 
out  to  what  end  ?  To  give  light  upon  the 
earth.  Gen.  i.  15.  And  the  mountains  are 
raised  above  the  rest  of  the  earth,  not  to  be 
places  of  prey  and  robbery,  as  sometimes 
they  are  turned  to  be,  but  to  send  forth 
streams  I'rom  their  springs  into  the  valleys, 
and  in  ike  them  fertile  ;  these  mountains  and 
hills  (greater  and  lesser  rulers,  higher  and 
lower),  are  to  send  forth  to  the  people  the 
streaiT'S  of  righteousness  and  peace.  Psalm 
Ixxii.  31. 

But  it  is  the  corruption  and  misery  of  man's 
nature,  that  he  doth  not  know,  and  can  hardly 
be  persuaded  lo  learn,  either  how  to  com- 
mand aright,  or  how  to  obey  ;  and  no  doubt 
many  of  those  that  can  see  and  blame  the 
injustice  of  others  in  authority,  would  be 
more  guilty  that  way  themselves,  if  they  had 
the  same  power. 

It  is  the  pride  and  self-love  of  our  nature 
that  begets  disobedience  in  inferiors,  and  vio- 
lence and  injustice  in  superiors ;  that  depraved 
humor  which  ties  to  every  kind  of  govern- 
ment a  propension  to  a  particular  disease  ; 
which  makes  royalty  easily  degenerate  into 
tyranny,  the  government  of  nobles  into  fac- 
tions, and  popular  government  into  confusion. 

As  civil  authority,  and  subjection  to  it,  are 
the  institution  of  God,  so  the  peaceable  cor- 
respondence of  these  two,  just  government 
and  due  obedience,  is  the  special  gift" of  God's 
own  hand,  and  a  prime  blessing  to  states  and 
kintcdoms  ;  and  the  troubling  and  interrup- 
tion of  their  course  is  one  of  the  highesi  j)ub- 
lic  judgments  by  which  the  Lord  i)unishes 
oftentimes  the  other  sins  both  of  rulers  and 
people.  And  whatsoever  be  the  cause,  and 
on  which  side  soever  be  the  justice  of  the 
cause,  it  can  not  be  looked  upon  but  as  a 
heavy  plague,  and  the  fruit  of  many  and  great 
provocaiinns,  when  kings  and  their  |)eoj)le, 
who  should  be  a  rimtual  blessing  and  honor 
to  each  other,  are  turned  into  scourges  one  to 
another,  or  into  a  devouring  fire  ;  as  it  is  in 
the  parable,  .ludg.  ix.  20.  Fire  going  forth 
from  AfiimrJrrJi  to  devour  the  men  of  ^he.chcin, 
and  fire  from  Hhechemto  devour  Ahimclech. 

Ver.  1.5.  For  so  is  the  will  of  God,  tlmt  with  well  do- 
in-^  ye  may  put  to  silence  the  ignorance  of  foolish 
mfii ; 

Ver.  16.  As  free,  and  not  using  your  liberty  for  a 
cloak  of  in.iliciousness,  but  as  the  servants  of  God. 

This  continues  the  same  reason  of  the  same 
Christian  duty  ;  if  they  will  obey  the  Lord, 
then  they  must  obey  civil  powers,  for  that  is 
his  will,  and  they  will  not  deny  their  obliga- 
tion to  him.  for  they  are  his  servants,  v.  16. 
The  Words,  indeed,  are  more  ireneral  than  the 
former,  but  they  relate  chiefly,  in  this  place, 
to  the  particular  in  hand,  implying  that  nei- 


ther in  that  kind  nor  in  an\-  other.  Christians 
should  dishonor  their  profession,  and  abuse 
their  liberty,  mistaking  it  as  an  exemption 
from  those  duties  to  which  it  doth  more 
straitly  tie  them.  So,  then,  the  point  of  civil 
obedience  and  all  other  good  conversation 
among  men,  is  here  recommended  to  Chris- 
tians, as  conformable  to  the  will  of  God,  and 
the  most  effectual  clearing  of  their  profession, 
and  very  agreeable  to  their  Christian  liberty. 

The  will  of  God.'\  This  is  the  strongest 
and  most  binding  reason  that  can  be  used  to 
a  Christian  mind,  which  hath  resigned  itself 
to  be  governed  by  that  rule,  to  have  the  ivili 
of  God  for  its  law.  Whatsoever  is  required 
of  it  upon  that  warrant,  it  can  not  refuse. 
Although  it  cross  a  man's  own  liumo-r,  or  his 
private  interest,  yet  if  his  heart  be  subjected 
to  the  will  of  God,  he  will  not  stand  with  him 
in  anything.  One  word  from  God,  I  will 
have  it  so,  silences  all,  and  carries  it  against 
all  opposition. 

It  were  a  great  point,  if  we  could  be  per- 
suaded to  esteem  duly  of  this:  it  were  indeed 
all.  It  would  make  light  and  easy  work  in 
those  things  that  go  so  hardly  on  with  us, 
though  we  are  daily  exhorted  to  them.  Is  it 
the  will  of  God  that  I  should  live  soberly? 
Then,  though  my  own  corrupt  will  and  my 
companions  be  asainst  it,  yet  it  must  be  so. 
Wills  he  that  I  forbear  cursing  and  oaths, 
though  it  is  my  custom  to  use  them  ?  Yet  I 
must  offer  violence  to  niy  custom,  and  go 
against  the  stream  of  all  their  customs  that 
are  round  about  me,  to  obey  his  will  who 
wills  all  things  justly  and  holily.  Will  he 
iiave  my  charity  not  only  liberal  in  giving, 
but  in  forgiving,  and  real  and  hearty  in  both  ? 
Will  he  have  me  bless  them  that  curse  me, 
and  do  irood  to  them  that  hate  me,  and  love 
mine  enemies?  Though  the  world  counts  it 
a  hard  task,  and  iriy  own  corrupt  heart  possi- 
bly finds  it  so,  yet  it  shall  be  done  ;  and  not 
as  ujion  unpleasant  necessity,  but  willingly 
and  cheerfully,  and  with  the  more  delight 
because  it  is  difficult  ;  for  so  it  proves  my 
obedience  the  more,  and  my  love  to  him 
whose  will  it  is.  Though  mine  enemies  de- 
serve not  my  love,  yet  he  vvho  bids  me  lovt; 
them,  does;  and  if  he  will  have  this  the 
touchstone  to  try  the  uprightness  of  my  love 
to  him,  shall  it  fail  there?  No;  his  will 
c(jmmands  me  absolutely,  and  he  himself  is 
S(;  lovely,  that  there  can  be  nobody  so  un- 
l(jvely  in  themselves,  or  lo  me,  but  I  can  love 
them  upcni  his  command,  and  for  his  sake. 

But  that  it  may  be  thus,  there  must  be  a 
renewed  frame  of  mind,  by  which  a  man 
may  renounce  the  world,  and  the  forms  of  it, 
and  himself,  and  his  own  sinful  heart,  and  its 
way,  to  study  and  follow  the  only  i^ood,  and 
acceptahle,  and  perfect  will  of  God,  Rom. 
xii.  2,  to  move  most  in  that  line,  not  willingly 
declining  lo  either  hand,  to  have  his  whole 
mind  taken  up  in  searching  it,  and  his  whole 
heart  in  embracing  it.  Be  ye  not  unwise,  but 
understanding  what  the  will  of  the  Ljrd  xs. 


»72 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  IT 


says  the  Aposile  Paul.  Eph.  v.  17,  bein;; 
about  to  exliort  to  particular  duties,  as  our 
apostle  here  is  doing. 

This  is  tiie  task  of  a  Christian,  to  under- 
stand his  Lord's  will,  and  with  a  practical 
understanding:,,  that  he  may  walk  in  all  well 
pleasing  unto  God.  Tlius  the  ajioslle  like- 
Wise  exiioris  the  Thessahmians  pathetically 
(1  epistle,  iv.  1),  and  adds,  This  is  the  null 
of  God,  even  your  sanrlijicaliun.  And  he 
then  proceeds  i)articular]y  against  unclean- 
ness  and  deceit,  &c. 

Let  this,  then,  be  your  endeavor,  to  have 
your  wills  crucified  to  whatsoever  is  sinful, 
yea,  to  all  outward  indifferent  things  with  a 
kind  of  indifferency.  The  most  things  that 
men  are  so  stiff  in,  are  not  worth  an  earnest 
willirrg.  In  a  word,  it  were  the  only  happy  and 
truly  spiritual  temper,  to  have  our  will  quite 
rooted  out,  and  the  will  of  God  placed  in  its 
stead ;  to  have  no  other  will  than  liis,  that  it 
might  constantly,  yea,  so  to  speak,  identically 
follow  it  in  all  things.  This  is  the  will  of 
God,  therefore  it  is  mine. 

That  with  well  doing  ye  may  put  to  silence 
the  Ignorance  of  foolish  men.]  The  duties 
of  the  second  table,  or  of  well  doing  toward 
men,  are  more  obvious  to  men  devoid  of  reli- 
gion, than  those  that  have  an  immediate  re- 
lation to  God  ;  and  therefore,  as  in  other  epis- 
tles, the  apostle  is  here  particular  in  these, 
for  the  vindicating  of  religion  to  them  that 
are  without.  Ignorance  usually  is  loud  and 
prattling,  making  a  mighty  noise,  and  so  hath 
need  of  a  invzzlc  to  sile?icc  it,  as  the- word 
<(tiir,  imports.  They  that  were  ready  to 
speak  evil  of  religion,  are  called  ivitlcss  or 
foolish  men  ;  there  was  perverseness  in  their 
ignorance,  as  the  word  d,;M,.„„  intimates.  And 
generally,  all  kinds  of  evil  speakings  and  un- 
charitable censurings  do  argue  a  foolish, 
worthless  mind,  whence  they  proceed  ;  and 
yet,  they  are  the  usual  divertisement  of  the 
greatest  part  of  mankind,  and  take  up  very 
much  of  their  converse  and  discourse  ;  which 
is  an  evidence  of  the  baseness  and  perverse- 
ness of  their  minds.  For,  whereas  tliose  that 
have  most  real  goodness,  delight  most  to  ob- 
serve what  is  good  and  commendable  in  oth- 
ers, and  to  pass  by  their  blemishes:  it  is  the 
true  ciiaracter  of  vile,  unworthy  persons  (as 
scurvy  (lies  sit  upon  sores),  to  skip  over  all 
the  good  that  is  in  men,  and  fasten  upon  their 
infirmities. 

But  especially  doth  it  discover  ignorance 
and  folly,  to  turn  the  failings  of  men  to  the 
disadvantage  of  religion.  None  can  be  such 
enemies  to  it,  but  they  that  know  it  not,  and 
see  not  the  beauty  that  is  in  it.  However, 
the  way  to  silence  them,  we  see,  is  by  well 
doing ;  that  silences  them  more  than  whole 
volutues  of  A])ologies.  When  a  Christian 
walks  irrepioveably,  his  enemies  have  no- 
where to  fasten  their  teeth  on  liim,  but  are 
forced  to  gnaw  their  own  mal  Vnant  tongues. 
As  it  secures  the  godly,  thus  to  stop  the  .y- 
»ig  mouths  of  foolish  men,  so  it  is  as  painful 


to  them  to  be  thus  stopped,  as  muzzling  is  to 
beasts,  and  it  punishes  their  malice. 

And  this  is  a  wise  Christian's  way.  instead 
of  impatiently  fretting  at  the  mistakes  or  wil« 
ful  miscensures  of  men,  to  keep  still  on  nis 
calm  temper  of  mind,  and  upriglit  course  of 
life,  and  silent  innocence;  this,  as  a  rock, 
breaks  the  waves  into  foam  that  roar  about  it. 

As  free.]  TIlis,  the  apostle  adds,  lest  any 
should  so  far  mistake  tiie  nature  of  theit 
Christian  liberty,  as  to  dream  of  an  exemp- 
tion from  obedience  either  to  God,  or  to  men 
for  his  sake,  and  according  to  his  appoint- 
ment. Their  freedom  he  grants,  but  would 
have  them  understand  aright  what  it  is.  I 
can  not  here  insist  at  large  on  the  spiritual 
freedom  of  Christians  :  nor  is  it  here  needful, 
being  mentioned  only  for  the  clearing  of  it  in 
this  point ;  but  free  they  are,  and  they  only, 
who  are  partakers  of  this  liberty.  Jf  the 
Son  make  you  free,  you  shall  he  free  indeed, 
John  viii.  36.  The  rest  are  slaves  to  Satan 
and  the  world,  and  their  own  lusts:  as  the 
Israelites  in  Egypt,  working  in  the  clay  un- 
der hard  task-masters. 

Much  discourse  hath  been  spenti  and  much 
ink  hath  been  spilt  upon  the  debate  of  free- 
will, but  truly,  all  the  liberty  it  hath  till  the 
Son  and  his  Spirit  free  it,  is  that  miserable 
freedom  the  apostle  speaks  of,  Piom.  vi.  20: 
While  yc  were  servants  to  sin,  ye  were  free 
from  righteousness. 

And  as  we  are  naturally  subject  to  the  vile 
drudgery  of  sin,  so  we  are  condemned  to  the 
proper  wages  of  sin,  which  the  a])ostle  there 
tells  us  is  death,  according  to  the  just  sen- 
tence of  the  law.  But  our  Lord  Christ  was 
anointed  for  this  purpose,  to  set  us  free,  both 
to  work  and  to  publish  liberty,  to  proclaim 
liberty  tu  captives,  and  the  opening  of  the 
prison  doors  to  them  that  are  hound.  Isa. 
Ixi.  1.  Having  paid  our  complete  ransom, 
he  sends  his  word  as  the  message,  and  his 
Spirit,  to  perform  it  effectually,  to  set  us  free, 
to  let  us  know  it,  and  to  bring  us  out  of  prison. 
He  was  bound  and  scourged,  as  a  slave  or 
malefactor,  to  purchase  us  this  liberty  ;  there- 
fore ought  it  to  be  our  special  care,  first,  to 
have  part  in  it,  and  then  to  be  like  it,  and 
stand  fust  in  it,  in  all  points. 

But  that  we  deceive  not  ourselves,  as  too 
many  do  who  have  no  portion  in  this  liberty, 
we  ougiit  to  know  that  it  is  not  to  inordinate 
walking  and  licentiousness,  as  our  liberty, 
that  we  are  called,  hut  fro/n  them,  as  our 
thraldom  ;  we  are  not  called  from  obedience, 
but  to  it.  Therefore  beware  that  you  shutrie 
in,  under  this  specious  name  oi'liherly,  noth- 
ing that  belongs  not  to  it.  Make  it  not  a 
cloak  of  maliciousness :  it  is  too  precious  a 
garment  for  so  base  a  use.  Liberty  is  indeed 
Christ's  livery  that  he  gives  to  ail  his  follow- 
ers :  but  to  live  suitably  to  it,  is  not  to  live  in 
wickedness  or  disobedience  of  any  kind,  but 
in  obedience  and  holines.s.  You  are  called  to 
be  the  servants  of  Cod,  and  that  is  your  dig- 
nity and  your  liberty. 


I 


Ver.  17.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OP  PETER. 


173 


The  apostles  of  this  gospel  of  liberty  glo- 
ried in  this  title,  The  servants  of  Jesus 
Christ.  David,  before  that  psalm  of  praise 
for  his  victories  and  exaltations,  being  now 
settled  on  his  throne,  prefixes,  as  more  honor 
than  all  these,  .4  Psalm  of  David,  the  servant 
of  the  Lord,  Psalm  xviii.  1.  It  is  the  only 
true  happiness  both  of  kings  and  their  sub- 
jects, to  be  his  subjects.  It  is  the  glory  of 
the  aniiels  to  be  his  tninisterint,'  spirits.  The 
more  we  attain  unto  the  faculty  of  serving 
him  cheerfully  and  diligenily,  the  more  still 
we  find  of  this  spiritual  liberty,  and  have  the 
more  joy  in  it.  As  it  is  the  most  honorable, 
it  is  likewise  the  most  comfortable  and  most 
gainful  service  :  and  they  that  once  know  it, 
will  neyer  change  it  for  any  oiher  in  the 
world.  Oh  !  that  we  could  live  as  his  ser- 
vants, employing  all  our  industry  to  do  him 
service  in  the  condition  and  place  wherein  he 
hath  set  us,  whatsoever  it  is,  and  as  faithful 
servants,  more  careful  of  his  alfairs  than  of 
our  own,  accounting  it  our  main  business  to 
seek  the  advancement  of  his  glory.  Happy 
is  the  servant  whom  the  master,  when  he  Com- 
eth, shall  find  so  doing.    Matt.  xxiv.  46. 

Ver.  17.  Honor  all  men.    Love  the  brotherhood. 
Fear  God.    Honor  the  king. 

This  is  a  precious  cluster  of  divine  pre- 
cepts. The  whole  face  of  the  heavens  is 
adorned  with  stars,  but  they  are  of  different 
magnitudes,  and  in  some  parts  they  are 
thicker  set  than  in  others  :  thus  it  is  likewise 
in  the  holy  Scriptures.  And  these  are  the 
two  books  that  ihe  i)salmist  sets  open  before 
us,  Psal.  xix.  ;  the  heavens  as  a  choice  piece 
of  the  works  of  (lod  instructing  us,  and  the 
word  of  God  more  full  and  clear  than  they. 
Here  is  a  consielialion  of  very  bright  stars 
near  together.  These  words  have  very  brief- 
ly, and  yet  not  obscured  by  briefness,  but 
withal  very  plainly,  the  sum  of  our  duty  tow- 
ard (  Jod  and  men  ;  to  men  both  in  general, 
Honor  all  men,  and  in  special  relations — in 
their  Christian  or  religious  relation.  Love  the 
brotherhood,  and  in  a  chief  civil  relation, 
Honor  the  ktnnr.  And  our  whole  duty  to 
God,  comprised  under  the  name  of  his  fear, 
is  set  in  the  middle  between  these,  as  the 
common  spring  of  all  duty  to  men,  and  of  all 
due  observance  of  it,  and  the  sovereign  rule 
by  which  il  is  to  be  regulated. 

I  shall  si)eak  of  them  as  they  lie  in  the  text. 
We  need  not  labor  about  the  connexion  ;  for 
in  such  variety  of  brief  practical  directions, 
it  hath  not  such  places  as  in  doctrinal  dis- 
courses. The  apostle  having  spoken  of  one 
particular  wherein  he  would  have  hisbrethren 
to  clear  and  commend  their  Christian  pro- 
fession, now  accumulates  these  directions  as 
most  necessary,  and  afterward  goes  on  to 
particular  duties  of  servants,  &c.  But  first, 
observe  in  general,  how  plain  and  easy,  and 
how  few  are  thcjse  things  that  are  the  rule  of 
our  life  ;  no  dark  sentences  to  puzzle  the  un- 1 


derstanding,  nor  large  discourses  and  long 
periods  to  burden  the  memory  :  they  are  all 
plain  ;  there  is  nothing  wreathed  nor  distorted 
in  them,  as  Wisdom  speaks  of  her  instruc- 
tions, Prov.  viii.  8. 

And  this  gives  check  to  a  double  folly  among 
men,  contrary  the  one  to  the  other,  but  both 
agreeing  in  mistaking  and  wronging  the  word 
of  God  ;  the  one  is  of  those  that  despise  the 
word,  and  that  doctrine  and  preaching  that  is 
conformable  to  it,  for  its  plainness  and  sim- 
plicity ;  the  other  of  those  that  complain  of 
its  difficulty  and  darkness.  As  for  the  first, 
they  certainly  do  not  take  the  true  end  foi 
which  the  word  is  designed,  that  it  is  the 
law  of  our  life  (and  it  is  mainly  requisite  in 
laws,  that  they  be  boih  brief  and  clear)  :  that 
it  is  our  guide  and  light  to  happiness  ;  and  if 
that  which  ought  to  be  our  light,  be  dark- 
ness, how  great  will  that  darkness  he  ! 

It  is  true  (but  I  am  not  now  to  insist  on 
this  point),  that  there  be  dark  and  deep  passa- 
ges in  Scripture,  for  the  exercise,  yea,  for  the 
humbling,  yea,  for  the  amazing  and  astonish- 
ing of  the  sharpest-sighted  readers.  But  this 
argues  much  the  pride  and  vanity  of  men's 
minds,  when  they  busy  themselves  only  in 
those,  and  throw  aside  altogether  the  most 
necessary,  which  are  therefore  the  easiest  and 
plainest  truths  in  it.  As  in  nature,  the  com- 
modities that  are  of  greatest  necessity,  God 
hath  made  most  common  and  easiest  to  be  had, 
so,  in  religion,  such  instructions  as  these  now 
in  our  hands  are  given  us  to  live  and  walk  by  ; 
and  in  the  search  of  things  that  are  more  ob- 
scure, and  less  useful,  men  evidence  that  they 
had  rather  be  learned  than  holy,  and  have  still 
more  mind  to  the  tree  of  kixncledge  than  the 
tree  of  life.  And  in  hearing  of  the  word,  are 
not  tney  who  are  any  whit  more  knowing 
than  ordinary,  still  gaping  after  new  notions, 
after  something  to  add  to  the  stock  of  their 
speculative  and  discoursing  knowledge,  loath- 
ing this  daily  manna,  these  profitable  exhorta- 
tions, and  rei/uiring  meal  for  their  hist  ?  There 
is  an  intemperance  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  of 
the  mouth.  You  would  think  it,  and,  may  be, 
not  spare  to  call  it,  a  poor  cold  sermon,  that 
Were  made  up  of  such  |)lai!i  pre  cepts  as  tb.ese  ; 
Honor  all  men  ;  love  the  brotherhood  ;  fear 
God  ;  honor  the  king  ;  and  yet,  this  is  the  lan- 
guage of  God,  it  is  his  way,  this  foolish,  de- 
spicable way  by  which  he  guides,  and  brings 
to  heaven  them  that  believe. 

Again  ;  we  have  others  that  are  still  com- 
plaining of  the  difficulty  and  darkness  of  the 
word  of  God  and  divine  truths  ;  to  say  nothing 
of  Rome's  doctrine,  who  talks  thus,  in  order 
to  excuse  her  sacrilege  of  stealing  away  the 
word  from  the  people  of  God  (a  senseJess 
pretext  though  it  were  true  ;  because  the 
word  is  dark  of  itself,  should  it  therefore  be 
made  darker,  by  locking  it  up  in  an  unknown 
tongue  ?)  but  we  speak  of  the  common  vulgar 
excuse,  which  the  gross,  ignorant  profaneness 
of  many  seeks  to  shroud  itself  under,  that 
they  are  not  learned,  and  can  not  reach  the 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Ch4P  h. 


doctrine  i)f  the  Scriptures.  There  be  deep 
iii\>ierits  'here  iiuleed  :  but  what  say  you  to 
these  things,  such  rules  as  these,  honor  all 
men,  \'e.  ?  Are  such  as  tliese  riddles,  that 
you  can  not  know  their  nieanint!;  ?  Rather, 
do  not  all  understand  them,  and  all  neglect 
them  ?  Why  set  you  not  on  to  do  these  ?  and 
then  you  should  understand  more.  A  iiood 
understiinil  ing  Ituve  uU  they  Hid  I  do  his  com- 
rnand/ncnts,  says  the  psalmist,  Psal.  cxi.  10. 
As  one  said  well,  "  The  best  way  lo  under- 
stand the  mysterious  and  high  discourse  in 
the  beginning  of  St.  Paul's  epistles,  is,  to 
begin  at  the  practice  of  those  rules  and  pre- 
cepts that  arc  in  the  latter  end  of  them."  The 
way  to  attain  to  know  more  is  to  receive  the 
truth  in  the  love  of  it,  and  to  obey  what  you 
know.  The  truth  is,  such  truths  as  these 
will  leave  you  inexcusable,  even  the  most 
ignorant  of  you.  You  can  not  but  know,  you 
hear  ofien,  that  you  ought  to /ore  one  another,  j 
and  to  fear  God,  &c.,  and  yet  you  never  apply 
yourselves  in  earnest  to  the  practice  of  tliese 
things,  as  will  appear  to  your  own  conscien- 
ces, if  they  deal  honestly  with  you  in  the 
particulars. 

Honor  all  men.'\  Honor,  in  a  narrower 
sense,  is  not  a  universal  due  to  all,  but  pecu- 
liar to  some  kinds  of  persons.  Of  this  the 
apostle  speaks,  Korn.  xii.  8.  Honor  to  ivhom 
honor  is  due,  and  that  in  different  degrees,  to 
parents,  to  masters,  and  other  superiors. 
There  is  an  honor  that  hath,  as  it  were, 
Csesar's  image  and  superscription  on  it,  and 
so  is  particularly  due  to  him  ;  as  here  it  fol- 
lows, honor  the  kinu;.  But  there  is  something 
that  goes  not  unfitly  under  the  name  of  honor, 
generally  due  to  every  man  without  excep- 
tion ;  and  it  consists,  as  all  honor  doth,  jiartly  ' 
in  inward  esteem  of  them,  partly  in  outward  ' 
behavior  toward  them.  And  the  former  must 
be  the  gr'-".nd  and  cause  of  the  latter. 

We  owe  not  the  same  measure  of  esteem 
to  all.  We  may,  yea,  we  ought  to  take  no- 
tice of  the  different  outward  quality,  or  in- 
ward graces  and  gifts  of  men  :  nor  is  it  a  fault 
to  [)erceive  the  shallowness  and  weakness  of 
men  with  whom  we  converse,  and  to  esteem 
more  highly  those  on  whom  God  hath  con- 
ferred more  of  such  things  as  arc  truly  wor- 
thy of  esteem.  But  unto  the  meanest  we  do 
owe  some  measure  of  esteem,  1st,  Negative- 
ly. We  are  not  to  entertain  despising,  dis- 
dainful thoughts  of  any,  how  worthless  and 
mean  soever.  As  the  admirinar  of  men,  the 
very  best,  is  a  foolish  excess  on  the  one  hand, 
so,  the  total  contemning  of  any,  the  very 
poorest,  is  against  this  rule  on  the  other  ;  for 
that  conteinning  of  vile  persons,  the  psalmist 
speaks  of.  Psalm  xv.  3,  and  commends,  is  the 
dislike  and  hatred  of  their  sin,  which  is  their 
viieness,  and  the  not  accounting  them  for  out- 
tvard  respects,  worthy  of  such  esteem  as  their 
wickedness  does,  as  it  were,  strip  them  of. 
2dly.  We  are  to  observe  and  respect  the  small- 
est good  that  is  in  any.  Although  a  Chris- 
Man  be  'lever  so  base  in  his  outward  condi- 


I  tion,  in  body  or  mind,  of  very  mean  intellect- 
uals and  natural  endowments,  yet,  they  who 
know  the  worth  of  s[)iritual  things  will  esteem 
the  grace  of  God  that  is  in  him,  in  the  midst 
of  all  those  disadvantages,  as  a  [learl  in  a 
rough  shell.  Grace  carries  still  its  own 
worih,  though  under  a  deformed  hudy  and 
ragged  garments,  yea,  though  ihey  have  but 
a  small  measure  of  that  neither — the  very 
lowest  degree  of  grace  :  as  a  pearl  of  the  lea^t 
size,  or  a  small  jiiece  of  gold,  yet  men  will 
not  throw  it  away,  but,  as  they  say,  the  least 
shavings  of  gold  are  worth  the  keeping.  The 
Jews  would  not  willingly  tread  upon  the 
smallest  piece  of  paper  in  their  way,  but  took 
it  up  ;  "  For  possibly,"  said  ihev,  "  the  name 
of  God  may  be  on  it."  Though  there  was  a 
little  superstition  in  this,  yet  truly  there  is 
nothing  but  good  religion  in  it,  if  we  apj)ly  it 
to  men.  Trample  not  on  any  :  there  may  be 
some  work  of  grace  there  that  thou  knowest 
not  of.  The  name  of  God  may  be  written 
upon  that  soul  thou  treadest  on  ;  it  may  be  a 
soul  that  Christ  thought  so  much  of,  as  to 
give  his  precious  blood  for  it ;  therefore  de- 
spise it  not.  Much  more,  1  say,  if  thou  canst 
perceive  an\'  appearance  that  it  is  such  a  one, 
oughtest  thou  to  esteem  it.  Wheresoever 
thou  findest  the  least  trait  of  Christ's  image, 
if  thou  lovest  him,  thou  wilt  honor  it ;  or  if 
there  be  nothing  of  this  to  be  found  in  him 
thou  lookest  on,  yet  observe  what  common 
gift  of  any  kind  God  hath  bestowed  on  him, 
judgment,  or  memory,  or  faculty  in  his  cal- 
ling, or  any  such  thing,  for  these  in  their  de- 
gree are  to  be  esteemed,  and  the  person  for 
them.  And  as  there  is  no  man  so  complete 
as  to  have  the  advantage  in  everything,  so 
there  is  no  man  so  low  and  unworthy  but  he 
hath  something  wherein  he  is  preferable  even 
to  those  that  in  other  respects  are  much  more 
excellent.  Or  imagine  thou  canst  find  nothing 
else  in  some  men,  yet  honor  thy  own  nature ; 
esteem  humanity  in  them,  es])ecially  since 
humanity  is  exalted  in  Christ  to  be  one  with 
the  Deity  :  account  of  the  indiv  idual  as  a  man. 
And,  along  with  this  esteem  goes,  3dly,  that 
general  good  will  and  affection  due  to  men  ; 
whereas  there  are  many  who  do  not  only  out- 
wardly express,  but  inwardly  bear  more  re- 
gard to  some  dog  or  horse  that  they  love, 
than  to  poor  distressed  tnen,  and  in  so  doing, 
do  reflect  dishonor  upon  themselves,  and  upon 
mankind. 

The  outward  behavior  wherein  we  owe 
honor  to  all,  is  nothing  but  a  conformity  to 
this  inward  temper  of  mind  ;  for  he  that  in- 
wardly despiseth  none,  but  esteemeth  the 
good  that  is  in  the  lowest,  or  at  least  esteem, 
eth  them  in  that  they  are  men,  and  loves 
them  as  such,  will  accordingly  use  no  out- 
ward sisrn  of  disdain  of  any  ;  he  w  ill  not  have 
a  scornful  eye  nor  a  reproachful  tongue  to 
move  at  any,  not  the  meanest  of  his  servants, 
nor  the  wcjrst  of  his  enemies  ;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, will  acknowledge  the  good  that  is  in 
every  man,  and  give  unto  all  thai  outward 


Ver.  17.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


175 


respect  that  is  convenient  for  them,  and 
that  they  are  capable  of,  and  will  be  ready  to 
do  them  good  as  he  hath  opportunity  and 
ability. 

But  instead  of  walking  by  this  rule  of  hon- 
oring all  men,  what  \<  there  almost  to  be 
found  among  men,  but  a  j^rverse  proneness 
to  dishonor  one  another,  and  every  man  ready 
to  dishonor  all  men,  that  he  may  honor  him- 
self, reckoning  that  what  he  gives  to  others 
is  lost  to  himself,  and  taking  what  he  detracts 
from  others  as  good  booty  to  make  up  him- 
self? Set  aside  men's  own  interest,  and  that 
common  civility  which  for  their  own  credit 
they  use  one  with  another,  and  truly  there 
will  be  found  very  little  of  this  real  respect 
to  others,  proceeding  from  obedience  to  God 
and  love  to  men — little  disposition  to  be  ten- 
der of  their  reputation  and  good  name,  and 
their  welfare  as  of  our  own  (for  so  the  rule 
is),  but  we  shall  find  mutual  disesteem  and 
defamation  filling  almost  all  societies. 

And  the  bitter  root  of  this  iniquity  is,  that 
wicked,  accursed  self-love  which  dwells  in 
us.  Every  man  is  naturally  his  own  grand 
idol,  would  be  esteemed  and  honored  by  any 
means,  and  to  magnify  that  idol  self,  kills  the 
good  name  and  esteem  of  others  m  sacrifice 
to  it.  Hence,  the  narrow-observing  eye  and 
broad-speaking  tongue,  upon  anything  that 
tends  to  the  dishonor  of  (Jthers  ;  and  where 
other  things  fail,  the  disdainful  upbraiding  of 
their  birth,  or  calling,  or  anything  that  comes 
next  to  hand,  serves  for  a  reproach.  And 
hence  arises  a  great  part  of  the  jars  and  strifes 
among  men,  the  most  part  being  drunk  with 
an  overweening  opinion  of  themselves,  and 
the  unworthiest  the  most  so.  The  slug'janl, 
says  Solomon,  is  vjiser  in  his  oxen  conceit  than 
•seven  men  that  can  render  a  reason.  Proverbs 
xxvi.  16  ;  and  not  finding  others  of  their  mind,  ' 
this  frets  and  troubles  them.  They  take  the  \ 
ready  course  to  deceive  theinselves ;  for  they 
look  with  both  eyes  on  the  failings  and  de- 
fects of  others,  and  scarcely  give  their  good 
qualities  half  an  eye  ;  while,  on  the  contrary, 
in  themselves,  they  study  to  the  full  their 
own  advantages,  and  their  weaknesses  and 
defects  (as  one  says)  they  skip  over,  as  chil- 
dren do  the  hard  words  in  their  lesson,  that 
are  tr(jublesnme  to  read  ;  and  making  this  un- 
even parallel,  what  wonder  if  the  result  be  a 
f'ross  mistake  of  themselves  !  Men  overrate 
tnemselves  at  home  :  they  reckon  that  they 
ought  to  be  regarded,  and  that  their  mind 
should  carry  it :  and  when  they  come  abroad, 
and  are  crossed  in  this,  this  puts  them  out  of 
all  temper. 

Jiut  the  humble  man,  as  is  he  is  more  con- 
formable to  this  Divine  rule,  so  he  hath  more 
)ei)ce  hy  it :  for  he  sets  so  low  ^  rate  upon 
limself  in  his  own  thoughts,  that  it  is  scarce- 
ly possibly  for  any  to  go  lower  in  judging  of 
him  ;  and  therefore,  as  he  pays  due  respect  to 
others  to  tlie  full,  and  gives  no  ground  of 
quarrel  that  way,  so  he  challenges  no  such 
debt  to  himself,  and  thus  avoids  the  usual  | 


contests  that  arise  in  this.  Only  hy  -pride 
comes  contention,  says  Solomon,  Prov.  xiii. 
10.  A  man  that  will  walk  abroad  in  a  crowd- 
ed street,  can  not  choose  but  be  often  jostled  ; 
but  he  that  contracts  himself,  passes  through 
more  easily.  ^ 

Study,  therefore,  this  excellent  grace  of  hu- 
mility ;  not  the  personated  acting  of  it  in  ap- 
pearance, which  may  be  a  chief  agent  for 
pride,  but  true  lowliness  of  mind,  which  will 
make  you  to  be  nothing  in  your  own  eyes, 
and  content  to  be  so  in  the  eyes  of  others. 
Then  will  you  obey  this  word  ;  you  will  es- 
teem all  men  as  is  meet,  and  not  be  troubled 
though  all  men  disesteem  you.  As  this  hu- 
mility is  a  precious  grace,  so  it  is  the  pre- 
server of  all  other  graces,  and  without  it  (if 
they  could  be  without  it),  they  were  but  as  a 
box  of  precious  powder  carried  in  the  wind 
without  a  cover,  in  danger  of  being  scattered 
and  blown  away.  If  you  would  have  honor, 
there  is  an  ambition  both  allowed  you,  and 
worthy  of  you,  whosoever  you  are  :  .iiXinu  ifuiia, 
Rom.  ii.  7  ;  2  Cor.  v.  9  ;  other  honor,  though 
it  have  its  Hebrew  name  from  tccight,  is  all 
too  light,  and  weighs  only  with  cares  and 
troubles. 

Love  the  hrot/ierhond.]  There  is  a  love,  as 
we  said,  due  to  all,  included  under  that  word 
of  honoring  all,  but  a  peculiar  love  to  our 
Christian  brethren,  whom  the  Apostle  Paul 
calls  by  a  like  word,  the  household  of  faith. 
Gal.  vi.  10. 

Christian  brethren  are  united  by  a  three- 
f)ld  cord  ;  two  of  them  are  common  to  other 
men,  but  the  third  is  the  strongest,  and  theirs 
peculiarly.  Their  bodies  are  desceiuled  of 
the  same  man,  and  their  souls  of  the  same 
God  ;  but  their  new  life,  by  which  they  are 
most  entirely  brethren,  is  derived  from  the 
same  God-man,  Jesus  Christ ;  yea,  in  him, 
they  are  all  one  body,  receiving  life  from  him 
their  glorious  head,  who  is  called  the  first- 
born among  many  brethren,  Rcmians  viii.  29. 
And  as  his  unspeakable  love  was  the  source 
of  this  new  being  and  fraternity,  so  doubtless 
it  can  not  but  produce  indissoluble  love  among 
them  that  are  partakers  of  it.  The  spirit  of 
love  and  concord  is  that  precious  ointment 
that  runs  down  from  the  head  of  our  great 
High  Priest  to  the  skirts  of  his  uarment.  The 
life  of  Christ  and  this  law  of  love;  are  com- 
bined, and  can  not  be  severed.  Can  there  be 
enmity  between  those  hearts  that  meet  in 
him  ?  Why  do  you  pretend  yourselves  Chris- 
tians, and  yet  remain  not  only  strangers  to 
this  love,  but  most  contrary  to  it,  biters  and 
devnrirers  one  of  another,  and  will  not  be  con- 
vinced of  the  great  guiltiness  and  uncomeli- 
ness  of  strifes  and  envyings  among  you  ?  Is 
this  the  badge  that  Christ  hath  left  liisljreth- 
ren,  to  wrangle  and  malign  one  anoi her  ?  Do 
you  not  know,  on  the  contrary,  that  they  are 
to  be  known  by  mutual  love  ?  By  this  shall 
all  men  know  that  yoii  are  my  disrijilrs,  if  ye 
love  one  anothex-  John  xiii.  35.  How  often 
doth  that  belovfd  disciple  press  this!  He 


176 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chai-.  11. 


drank  deep  of  that  well-spriiiiT  of  love  that 
was  in  tlie  breast  on  wliicli  he  leaned,  and 
(if  they  relate  aright)  he  died  exhorting  this, 
iort'  one  another.  Oh  !  tliat  tliere  was  more  of 
this  love  of  Christ  in  our  liearts,  arising  from 
the  sense  of  his  love  to  us  I  Tiiai  would  teach 
this  inuluai  love  more  elfectually,  which  the 
preactiiniT  of  it  may  set  before  us,  but,  with- 
out that  other  teaching,  can  not  worii  within 
us.  Why  do  we  still  hear  these  ihinirs  in 
vain?  Do  we  believe  what  the  love  of  Christ 
did  to  us,  and  suffered  for  us?  And  will  we 
do  nothing  fur  him — not  forgive  a  shadow,  a 
fancy  of  injury,  much  less  a  real  one,  for  his 
sake,  and  love  him  that  wronged  us,  whoev- 
er he  he,  but  especially  being  one  of  our 
brethren  in  this  spiritual  sense  ? 

Many  are  the  duties  of  this  peculiar  frater- 
nal love  ;  that  mutual  converse,  and  adnroni- 
tion,  and  reproof,  and  comforting,  and  other 
duties  which  are  fallen  into  neglect,  not  only 
among  formal,  but  even  among  real  Chris- 
tians. Let  us  entreat  more  of  His  Spirit 
who  is  love,  and  that  will  remedy  this 
evil. 

Fear  God-I  All  the  rules  of  equity  and 
charity  among  men  flow  from  a  higher  prin- 
ciple, and  depend  upon  it  ;  and  there  is  no 
right  observing  of  them  without  due  regard 
to  that:  therefore  this  word,  which  expresses 
that  principle  of  obedience,  is  fitly  inserted 
among  the^e  rules  ;  the  first  obligation  of  man 
being  to  the  sovereign  majesty  of  God  who 
made  him,  and  all  the  nmtual  duties  of  one 
to  another  being  derived  from  that.  A  man 
may  indeed,  from  moral  principles,  be  of  a 
mild  inoffensive  carriage,  and  do  civil  right 
to  all  men  ;  but  this  answers  not  the  Divine 
rule  even  in  these  same  things,  after  the  way 
that  it  requires  them.  The  spiritual  and  re- 
ligious observance  of  these  duties  toward 
men,  springs  from  a  respect  to  God,  and  ter- 
minates there  too  ;  it  begins  and  ends  in  him. 
And  generally,  all  obedience  to  his  commands, 
both  such  as  regulate  our  behavior  toward 
himself  immediately,  and  such  as  relate  to 
man,  doth  arise  from  a  holy  fear  of  his  name. 
Therefore,  this  fear  of  God,  upon  which  fol- 
lows necessarily  the  keeping  of  his  command- 
ments, is  given  us  by  Solomon  as  the  total 
sum  of  man's  business  and  duty,  Eccl.  xii. 
ult.,  and  so,  the  way  to  solid  happiness:  he 
pronounces  it  fottim  hominis,  the  whole  of 
man.  After  he  had  made  his  discoveries  of 
all  thiniis  besides  under  the  sun,  gone  the 
whole  circuit,  and  made  an  exact  valuation,  he 
found  all  besides  this  to  amount  to  nothing  but 
vanity  and  ve.ralion  of  spirit.  The  account 
he  gives  of  all  other  tilings,  was  only  for  this 
purpose,  to  illustrate  and  establish  this  truth 
the  more,  and  to  make  it  the  more  accepta- 
ble ;  to  be  a  repose  after  so  much  weariness, 
and  such  a  tedious  journey,  and  so,  as  he  j 
speaks  there,  verse  10,  a  word  of  delight  as 
well  as  a  word  of  truth  :  that  the  mind  might 
sit  down  and  quiet  itself  in  this,  frorn  the  tur- 
moil and  pursuit  of  vanity,  that  keep  it  busy  ^ 


to  no  purpose  in  all  other  things.  But  whereas 
there  was  emptiness  and  vanity,  that  is,  just 
nothing,  in  all  other  thin<;s,  there  was  not 
only  something  to  be  found,  but  everything 
in  this  one,  this  fear  of  God,  and  that  keep- 
mi;;  of  his  commandments,  which  is  the  proper 
fruit  of  that  fear.  All  the  rejieaied  declaring 
of  vanity  in  other  things,  both  severally  and 
altogether  in  that  book,  are  but  so  many 
strokes  to  drive  and  fasten  this  nail  (as  it  is 
there,  ver.  11),  this  word  of  wisdom,  which 
is  the  sum  of  all,  and  contains  all  the  rest. 
So  Job,  after  a  large  inquest  for  wisdom, 
searching  for  its  vein,  as  men  do  for  mines 
of  silver  and  gold,  hath  the  return  of  a  Non 
inventum  est,  from  all  the  creatures  :  The  sea 
says.  It  is  not  in  me,  &c.  But  in  the  close, 
he  finds  it  in  this.  The  fear  of  the  Lord,  that 
is  u-ifdom,  and  to  depart  from  evil,  that  is  nn- 
derstandinir.  Job  xxviii.  vlt. 

Under  this  fear  is  ctmiprehended  all  reli- 
gion, both  inward  and  outward,  all  the  wor- 
ship and  service  of  God,  and  all  the  observ- 
ance of  his  commandments,  which  is  there 
(Eccl.  xii.)  and  elsewhere  exjiressly  joined 
with  it,  and  therefore  is  included  in  it,  when 
it  is  not  expressed.  So  Job  xxviii.,  as  above, 
To  depart  from  evil  is  understanding,  repeat- 
ing in  effect  the  former  wtjrds  by  these.  vSo 
Psalm  cxi.  10.  It  hath  in  it  all  holiness  and 
obedience  ;  they  grow  all  out  of  it.  It  is  the 
beginning,  and  it  is  the  top  or  consummation 
of  wisdom,  for  the  word  signifies  both. 

Think  it  not,  then,  a  trivial,  common  mat- 
ter to  speak  or  hear  of  this  subject:  but  take 
it  as  our  great  lesson  and  business  here  on 
earth.  The  best  proficients  in  it  have  yet 
need  to  learn  it  better,  and  it  requires  our  in- 
cessant diligence  and  study  all  our  davs. 

This  fear  hath  in  it  chiefly  these  things: 
1.  A  reverential  esteem  of  the  majesty  of 
God,  which  is  a  main,  fundamental  thing  in 
religion,  and  moulds  the  heart  most  power- 
fully to  the  obedience  of  his  will.  2.  A  firm 
belief  of  the  purity  of  God,  and  of  his 
power  and  justice,  that  he  loves  holiness, 
and  hates  all  sin,  and  can  and  will  punish 
it.  3.  A  right  apjirehension  of  the  bitter- 
ness of  his  wrath,  and  the  sweetness  of  his 
love  ;  that  his  incensed  anger  is  the  most  ter- 
rible and  intolerable  thing  in  the  world,  ab- 
solutely the  most  fearful  of  all  evils,  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  his  love,  of  all  good  things 
the  best,  the  most  blessed  and  delightful,  yea, 
the  only  blessedness.  Life  is  the  name  of  the 
sweetest  good  we  know,  and  yet,  bis  loving- 
kindness  is  better  than  life  says  David,  Psalm 
Ixiii.  3.  4.  It  supposes,  likewise,  sovereign 
love  to  God,  for  his  own  infinite  excellency 
and  goodness.  5.  From  all  these  springs  a 
most  earne'^t  desire  to  please  him  in  all 
thing's,  and  an  unwillingness  to  offena'  him  in 
the  least,  and  because  of  our  danger  through 
the  multitude  and  strength  of  temptat'ons, 
and  our  own  weakness,  a  continu;*  self-sus- 
picion, a  holy  fear  lest  we  should  sin.  a  care 
and  watchfulness  that  we  sin  not.  and  deep 


Ver.  17.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


177 


sorrow,  and  speedy  returning  and  humbling 
before  him  wlien  we  have  sinned. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  base  kind  of  fear, 
which,  in  the  usual  distinction,  they  call  ser- 
vile fear  ;  but  to  account  all  fear  of  the  judg- 
ments and  wrath  of  God  a  servile  fear,  or 
I'not  to  stand  upon  words),  to  account  such  a 
fear  improper  to  the  children  of  God,  I  c(jn- 
ceive  is  a  wide  mistake.     Indeed,  to  fear 
the  punishments  of  sin,  without  regard  to 
God   and   his  justice   as   the   inflicter  of 
them,  or  to  forbear  to  sin  only  because  of 
those  punishments,  so  that  if  a  man  can  be 
secured  from  those,  he  hath  no  other  respect 
to  God  that  would  make  him  fear  to  offend — 
this  is  the  character  of  a  slavish  and  base 
mind.    Again,  for  a  man  so  to  apprehend 
wrath  in  relation  to  himself  as  to  be  still 
under  the  horror  of  it  in  that  notion,  and  not 
to  appreliend  redemption  and  deliverance  by 
Jesus  Christ,  is  to  be  under  that  spirit  of  bond- 
age, which  the  apostle  speaks  of,  Rom.  viii. 
15.    And  though  a  child  of  God  may  for  a 
time  be  under  such  fear,  yet,  tiie  lively  act- 
ings of  faiih  and  persuasion  of  God's  love,  and 
the  feeling  of  reflex  love  to  him  in  the  soul, 
do  cast  it  out,  according  to  that  word  of  the 
apostle,  1  John  iv.  18,  True  (or  ferfccl)  love 
casleth  out  fear.  But  to  apprehend  the  punish- 
ments which  the  Lord  threatens  against  sin, 
as  certain  and  true,  and  to  consider  the  great- 
ness and  fearfulness  of  them,  especially  the 
terror  of  the  Lord's  anger  and  hot  displeasure, 
above  all  punishments,  and  (though  not  only, 
no,  nor  chiefly  for  these,  yet),  in  contempla- 
tion ol  these,  as  very  great  and  weighty,  to 
be  afraid  to  offend  that  God  who  hath  threat- 
ened such  things  as  the  just  reward  of  sin  ; 
this,  I  say,  is  not  incongruous  with  the  estate  j 
of  the  sor.s  of  God,  yea,  it  is  their  duty  and 
their  property  even  thus  to  fear. 

1st.  This  is  the  very  end  for  which  God 
hath  published  these  intimations  of  his  jus- 
tice, and  hath  threatened  to  punish  men  if 
they  transgress,  to  the  end  that  they  may  fear 
and  not  transgress:  so  that  not  to  look  upon 
them  thus,  and  not  to  be  affected  with  then^ 
answurably  to  their  design,  were  a  very  griev-  < 
ous  sin  ;  a  slight  and  disregard  put  upon  the 
words  of  the  great  God. 

2dly.  Above  all  others,  the  children  of  God 
have  the  rightest  and  clearest  knowledge  of 
God,  and  the  deepest  belief  of  his  word,  and 
therefore  they  can  not  choose  but  be  afraid, 
and  more  afraid  than  all  others,  to  fall  under 
the  stroke  of  his  band.  They  know  more  of 
the  greatness,  and  truth,  and  justice  of  God 
than  others,  and  therefore  they  lear  when  he 
threatens.  ,Vfy  flesh  Irernhleth  for  fear  of 
Ihee  (says  David),  and  I  am  afraid  of  thy 
judgments.  Psalm cxix.  120.  Yea,  they  trem- 
ble when  they  hear  the  sentence  against  oth- 
ers, or  see  it  executed  upon  ihem  ;  it  moves 
them  when  they  see  public  executions ; 
Knovnnsr  the  terror  of  the  Lord,  we  persuade 
men,  says  St.  Paul,  2  Cor.  v.  11  ;  and  they 
cry  out  with   Moses.  Psalm  xc.  11,  Who 


knows  the  power  of  thine  anger?  Even  ae- 
I  cording  to  thy  fear  so  is  ihy  wrath  .'  It  is 
not  an  imagination  or  invention  that  makes 
men  fear  more  than  they  need.  His  wrath  is 
as  terrible  as  any,  that  fear  it  most,  can  ap- 
prehend, and  beyond  that.  So  that  this  doth 
not  only  consist  with  the  estate  of  the  saints, 
but  is  their  very  character,  to  tremble  at  the 
word  of  their  Lord.  The  rest  neglect  what 
be  says,  till  death  and  judgment  seize  on 
them  ;  but  the  godly  know  and  believe,  that 
i(  is  a  fearful  thing  to  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  limng  God.    Heb.  x.  31. 

And  though  they  have  firm  promises,  and 
a  kingdom  that  can  not  be  shaken,  yet,  they 
have  still  this  grace  by  which  they  serve  God 
acceptably  with  reverence  and  godly  fear; 
even  in  this  consideration,  that  our  God,  even 
he  that  is  ours  by  peculiar  covenant,  is  a  con- 
suming fire.    Heb.  xii.  28,  29. 

But  indeed,  together  with  this,  yea,  more 
than  by  this,  they  are  persuaded  to  fear  the 
Lord,  by  the  sense  of  his  great  love  to  them, 
and  by  the  power  of  that  love  that  works  in 
them  toward  him,  and  is  wrought  in  them  by 
his.  They  shall  fear  the  Lord  and  his  good- 
ness in  their  latter  days.  Hos.  iii.  5.  In 
those  days,  his  goodness  shall  manifest  itself 
more  than  before :  the  beams  of  his  love  shall 
break  forth  more  abundantly  in  the  days  of 
the  gospel,  and  shall  beat  more  direct  and 
hotter  on  the  hearts  of  men  ;  and  then,  they 
shall  fear  him  more,  because  they  shall  love 
him  more. 

This  fear  agrees  well  both  with  faith  and 
love,  yea,  they  work  this  fear.  Compare 
Psalm  xxxi.  23,  with  Psalm  xxxiv.  9,  and 
that  same  Psalm  xxxiv.,  ver.  8  with  ver.  9, 
and  Psalm  cxii.,  ver.  1  with  ver.  7.  The 
heart  touched  with  the  loadstone  of  Divine 
love,  ever  trembles  with  this  godly  fear,  and 
still  looks  fixedly  by  faith  to  that  star  of  Ja- 
cob, Jesus  Christ,  who  guides  it  to  the  haven 
of  happiness. 

The  looking  upon  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Christ,  takes  off  that  terror  of  his  counte- 
nance that  drives  men  from  him  ;  and  in  the 
smiles  of  his  love  that  appear  through  Christ, 
there  is  such  a  power  as  unites  their  hearts 
to  him,  but  unites  them  so,  as  to  fear  his 
name,  as  the  psalmist's  prayer  is.  Psalm 
Ixxxvi.  11.  He  puts  such  a  fear  in  their 
hearts  as  will  not  cause  them  to  depart  from, 
yea,  causes  that  they  shall  not  depart  from 
him.    Jer.  xxxii.  40. 

And  this  is  the  purest  and  highest  kind  of 
godly  fear,  that  springs  from  love:  and  thougf. 
it  excludes  not  the  consideration  of  wrath,  as 
terrible  in  itself,  and  even  some  fear  of  it,  yet 
it  may  surmount  it  :  and  doubiless,  where 
much  of  that  love  possesses  the  heart,  it  will 
sometimes  drown  the  other  consideration,  so 
that  it  shall  scarcely  be  pcrceptilile  at  all, 
and  will  constantly  set  it  aside,  and  will  per. 
suade  a  man  purely  for  the  goodness  and 
loveliness  of  God,  to  fear  to  offend  him, 
though  there  were  no  interest  at  all  in  it 


178 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chai-.  II 


of  a  man's  own  personal  misery  or  happi- 
ness. 

But  do  we  thus  fear  the  Lord  our  God  ? 
What  mean,  then,  our  oaths,  and  excesses, 
and  uncleanness,  our  coveiousness,  and  jjene- 
rally  our  unholy  and  unchristian  conversa- 
tion ?  Tills  fear  would  make  men  Iremhle, 
60  as  to  shake  ihem  out  of  ilicir  profane  cus- 
toms, and  to  shake  iheir  beKived  sins  out  of 
their  bosoms.  The  knowledge  of  the  holy 
onp  causes  fear  of  him.    Prov.  ix.  IS. 

But  alas!  we  know  him  not,  and  ihcrcforc 
we  fear  him  not.  Know  we  but  a  little  of 
the  great  majesty  of  God,  how  holy  he  is, 
and  how  powerful  a  punisher  of  unholiness, 
we  should  not  dare  provoke  him  thus,  who 
can  kill  both  body  and  soul,  and  cast  them 
into  hell,  as  our  Savior  tells  us,  Matt.  x.  28. 
And  he  will  do  so  with  both,  if  we  will  not 
fear  him,  because  he  can  do  so  ;  and  it  is  told 
us  that  we  may  fear,  and  so  not  feel,  this 
heavy  wrath.  A  littlcliv(>iy,  spiritual  knowl- 
edge would  go  far,  and  work  much,  which  a 
great  deal,  such  as  ours  is,  doth  nor.  Some 
such  word  as  that  of  Joseph,  would  do  much, 
being  engraven  on  the  heart:  Shall  T  do  this 
evil  and  sin  against  God?  Gen.  xxxix.  9.  It 
would  make  a  man  be  at  no  more  liberty  to 
sin  in  secret  than  in  public;  no,  not  to  dis- 
pense with  the  sin  of  his  thoughts,  more  than 
of  the  openest  words  or  actions.  If  some 
grave  wise  man  did  see  our  secret  behavior 
and  our  thoughts,  should  we  not  look  more 
narrowly  to  them,  and  not  suffer  such  roviiigs 
and  lollies  in  ourselves?  Surely,  therefore, 
we  forget  God's  eye,  which  we  could  noi,  if 
we  thought  of  it  aright,  but  should  respect  it 
more,  than  if  all  men  did  see  within  us. 

Nor  is  this  the  main  point  to  be  pressed 
upon  the  ungodly  only,  hut  the  children  of 
God  themselves  have  much  need  to  be  put  in 
mind  of  this  fear,  and  to  increase  in  it.  How 
often  do  they  abuse  the  indulgence  of  so  loving 
a  Father?  They  have  not  their  thoughts  so 
constantly  full  of  him,  are  not  in  his  fear  (as 
Solomon  advises)  all  the  day  lontr,  Prov. 
xxiii.  17,  but  many  times  slip  out  of  his  direct- 
ing hand,  and  wander  from  him,  and  do  not 
so  deeply  fear  his  displeasure,  and  so  watch 
overall  their  ways,  as  becomes  them:  they  do 
not  keep  close  by  him.  and  wait  on  his  voice, 
and  obey  it  constantly,  an'  are  not  so  hum- 
bled and  afflicted  in  their  repentings  for  sin, 
as  this  fear  requires,  but  only  in  a  slight  and 
superficial  decree.  Thev  offer  much  lip-labor, 
which  IS  bu;  dead  service  to  ^he  living  God. 
These  are  things,  my  beloved,  that  concern 
us  m'Jch,  and  that  we  ousht  seriously  to  lay 
to  heart  :  for  even  they  who  are  freed  from 
jondemnation,  yet  if  they  will  walk  fearless- 
ly and  carelessly  at  any  time,  he  hath  ways 
enousih  to  make  them  smart  for  it.  And  if 
tliere  were  nothing  more,  should  it  not  wound 
them  deeply,  to  think  how  they  requite  so 
great,  so  unspeakable  love  ? 

Honor  the  kin<r.]  This  was  the  particular 
Uiat  the  apostle  pressed  and  insisted  on  before ; 


1  and  here  he  repeats  it  as  a  special  duty  of  the 
I  second  table,  and  a  vindication  of  religion, 
which  is  wrongfully  blamed  in  this  point : 
but  of  this  before. 

This  is  out  of  question  in  the  general  :  only 
in  the  measure  and  rule  of  it,  is  the  difiereiice. 
And  surely  they  can  not  possibly  be  satisfied, 
who  are  so  drunk  with  power  as  to  admit  of 
none  at  all, — no  measure  nor  rate  for  it,  no 
I  banks  nor  channel  for  those  rivers,  the  hearts 
and  wills  of  kings  to  run  in,  but  think  that  if 
they  like  to  run  over  all  they  may. 

This  is  such  a  wild  conceit  as  destroys  both 
all  law  of  reason  in  human  societies,  and  all 
religious  obligation  to  the  laws  of  God.  For 
the  i|ualification  and  measure,  I  shall  mention 
no  other  than  that  in  the  text,  fhat  it  be  al- 
ways regulated  by  what  here  goes  before  it, 
the  fear  of  God  ;  that  we  never  think  of  any 
sucn  obedience  and  honor  due  to  kings,  as 
crosseth  that  fear  which  is  due  to  God.  Let 
kings,  and  subjects,  and  all  know  that  they 
are  absolutely  bound  to  this.  It  is  spoken 
to  kings,  Psalm  ii.  11,  Serve  the  Lord  in  fear; 
!  and  to  all  men.  Psalm  ix.  6,  Fear  before  him, 
all  the  earth,  for  he  is  areat,  and  greatly  to 
he  praised  ;  he  ts  to  be  feared  above  all  gods. 
What  is  man  in  respect  of  him?  Shall  a  worm, 
whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils,  stand  in  com- 
]  petition  with  the  ever-living  God  ?  Sliall  an 
I  earthen  potsherd  strive  with  his  Maker  ?  Let 
1  the  potsherds  strive  with  the  potsherds  of  the 
earth  ;— let  them  work  one  against  another, 
[  and  try  which  is  hardest,  and  so  they  shall 
often  break  each  other: — but,  Wo  to  him  that 
strtveth  ivith  his  Maker.  Isa.  xlv.  9.  There 
is  nothing  here  but  certain  perishing.  As  we 
conclude  in  the  question  with  the  church  of 
Rome,  of  the  honor  due  to  saints  and  angels, 
honor  let  them  have,  with  good  reason,  but 
not  Divine  honor,  not  God's  peculiar  ;  so,  in 
this,  give  to  Ctrsar  the  things  that  axe  Co'sar's, 
but  withal,  still  give  to  God  the  things  that 
are  Goe/'s. 

But  it  is  a  miserable  estate  of  a  kingdom, 
when  debates  on  this  head  arise  and  increase  ; 
,and  their  happiness  is,  when  kings  and  peo- 
ple concur  to  honor  God  :  For  those  that  honor 
him,  he  ivill  honor,  and  whosoever  despises  him, 
shall  be  lightly  esteemed.  1  Sam.  ii.  30. 

Ver.  18.  Servants,  be  subject  to  your  masters  with 
all  fear  ;  not  only  to  the  good  and  gentle,  but  also 
to  the  froward. 

Vkr.  19.  For  this  is  thank-worthy,  if  a  man  for  con- 
science toward  God  endure  grief,  suffering  wrong- 
fully. ^  , 

Ver.  20.  For  whatqlory  is  it,  if,  when  yc  be  buffeted 
for  your  faults,  yc  sliall  take  it  patiently  ?  liut  if 
when  yc  do  well  and  suffer  for  it,  ye  lake  it  patient- 
ly ;  ih"    -s  acceptable  with  God. 

Tlui  WO)  t  (says  the  Psalmist)  is  a  light  to 
my  feet  and  a  lamp  to  my  paths.  Psalm  cxix. 
10.5"; — not  only  a  light  to  please  liis  eyes,  by 
the  excellent  truths  and  comforts  that  are  in 
it,  but  withal  a  lamp  to  direct  his  feet  in  the 
precepts  and  rules  of  life  that  it  gives:  not 
only  to  inform  and  delight  his  mind,  but  also 


/"er.  18—20.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


179 


Id  order  his  course.  That  philosopher  was 
deservedly  commended,  who  drew  knowledge 
most  this  way,  and  therefore  was  said  to  have 
brought  philosophy  from  the  clouds  to  dwell 
among  men,  calling  it  I'rom  empty  specula- 
tions to  a  practical  strain.  Thus  we  are 
taught  in  spiritual  knowledge  by  the  word  of 
God.  The  Son,  the  eternal  word,  when  he 
came  to  dwell  with  men,  and  so  brought  life, 
and  wisdom,  and  all  blessings  from  the 
heavens  down  unto  them,  taught  them  both 
by  his  doctrine  and  perfect  example,  how  to 
walk  ;  and  his  apostles  do,  conformably,  aim 
at  this  in  their  holy  writings,  joining  with 
the  mysteries  of  faith,  those  rules  of  life  which 
show  men  the  straight  way  to  happiness. 

And  as  it  is  spoken  of  the  largeness  of 
Solomon's  wisdom,  that  he  spake  o  f  all  trees,  I 
from  the  cedar  in  Lebanon,  to  the  hi/ssop  that 
grows  out  of  the  wall  (1  Kings  iv.  33),  so  in 
this,  we  may  see  the  perfection  of  the  holy 
Scriptures,  that  they  give  those  directions 
thai  are  needful  to  all  ranks  and  sorts  of  men. 
They  speak  not  only  of  the  duties  of  kings, 
how  they  ought  to  behave  themselves  on 
their  thrones,  and  the  duty  of  their  subjects 
toward  them  in  that  dignity,  and  how  min- 
isters and  others  ought  to  carry  themselves 
in  the  house  of  God;  but  they  come  into  i 
private  houses,  and  give  economic  rules  for 
them;  teaching  parents,  and  children,  and 
masters,  yea,  and  servants,  how  to  acquit 
themselves  one  to  another.  Thus  here,  ser- 
vants he  subject  to  your  masters. 

As  this  is  a  just  plea  for  all  the  people  of 
God,  that  they  have  a  right  to  the  use  of  this 
Book,  being  so  useful  for  all  sorts,  and  that 
tiiey  ought  not  to  be  debarred  from  it  ;  so,  it 
is  :i  Just  plea  against  a  great  part  of  those 
that  debar  themselves  the  use  of  it,  through 
sloilifulness  and  earthly  mindedness,  seeing 
it  is  so  contcmpered,  that  there  may  be  many 
things,  yea,  all  the  main  things  in  it  profita- 
ble for  all,  fitted  to  the  use  of  the  lowest  es- 
tate and  lowest  capacities  of  men.  Yea,  it 
takes  (as  we  see)  particular  notice  of  their 
condition  ;  sloops  down  to  fake  the  meanest 
servant  by  the  hand,  to  lead  him  in  the  wny 
to  heaven  :  and  not  only  in  that  part  of  it 
which  is  the  general  way  of  f 'liristians,  but 
even  in  those  steps  of  it  that  lie  within  the 
walk  of  their  particular  calling;  as  here, 
teaching  not  only  the  duties  of  a  Christian, 
out  of  a  Christian  servant. 

Obs.  1.  The  Scriptures  are  a  deep  that  few 
;an  wade  far  into,  and  none  can  wade  through 
as  those  waters,  Ezek.  Ixvii.  5),  but  yet,  all 
may  come  to  the  brook  and  refresh  them- 
selves with  drinking  of  \he  streams  of  its 
living  water,  and  go  in  a  little  way,  accord- 
ing to  their  strength  and  stature.  Now  this 
(I  say)  may  be  spoken  to  our  shame,  and  T 
wish  it  might  shame  you  to  amendment,  that 
so  many  of  you  either  use  not  the  Scrip- 
tures at  all,  or,  in  using,  do  not  use  them  ; 
you  turn  over  the  leaves,  and,  it  may 
be,  Tvia  through  the  lines,  and  consider  not 


!  what  they  advise  you.  Masters,  learn  you» 
!  part,  and  servants  too,  hearken  what  they 
say  to  you,  for  they  pass  not  you  by,  they 
[  vouchsafe  to  speak  to  you  too,  but  you  vouch- 
■  safe  not  to  hear  them,  and  observe  their 
I  voice.  How  can  you  think  that  the  reading 
of  this  Book  concerns  you  not,  when  you 
may  hear  it  address  such  particular  direc- 
tions to  you  ?  Wisdom  goes  not  only  to  the 
gates  of  palaces,  but  to  the  cominon  gates 
of  the  cities,  and  to  the  public  highways, 
and  calls  to  the  simplest  that  she  may  make 
them  wise.  Besides  that  you  dishonor  God, 
you  prejudice  yourselves  ;  for  does  not  that 
neglect  of  God  and  his  word  justly  procure 
the  disorder  and  disobedience  of  your  ser- 
vants toward  you,  as  a  fit  punishment  from 
I  his  righteous  hand,  although  they  are  un- 
righteous, and  are  procuring  further  judg- 
ment "to  themselves  in  so  doing  ?  And  not 
only  thus  is  your  neglect  of  the  word  a  cause 
of  your  trouble  by  the  justice  of  God,  but- it 
is  so  in  regard  of  the  nature  of  the  word,  in- 
asmuch as  if  you  would  respect  it,  and  make 
use  of  it  in  your  houses,  it  would  teach  your 
servants  to  respect  and  obey  you,  as  here 
you  see  it  speaks  for  you  ;  and  therefore  you 
wrong  both  it  and  yourselves,  when  you  si- 
lence it  in  your  families. 

Obs.  2.  'The  apostle  having  spoken  of  sub- 
jection to  public  authority,  adds  this  of  sub- 
jection to  private  domestic  authority.  It  is 
a  thing  of  much  concernment,  the  right  or- 
dering of  families  ;  for  all  other  societies, 
civil  and  religious,  are  made  up  of  these. 
Villages,  and  cities,  and  churches,  and  com- 
monwealths, and  kingdoms,  are  but  a  collec- 
tion of  families:  and  therefore  such  as  these 
are,  for  the  most  part,  such  must  the  whole 
societies  predominantly  be.  One  particular 
house  is  but  a  very  small  part  of  a  kingdom, 
vet,  the  wickedness  and  lewdness  of  that 
house,  be  it  but  of  the  meanest  in  it,  of  ser- 
vants one  or  more,  and  though  it  seem  but  a 
small  thing,  yet  goes  in  to  make  up  that 
heap  of  sin  which  provokes  the  wrath  of 
God,  and  draws  on  public  calamity. 

And  this  particularly,  when  it  declines  into 
disorder,  proves  a  public  evil.  When  ser- 
vants grow  generally  corrupt,  and  disobedi- 
ent, and  unfaithl'ul,  though  they  be  the  low- 
est part,  yet  the  whole  body  of  a  Common- 
wealth can  not  but  feel  very  much  the  evi 
of  it :  as  a  man  does  when  his  legs  and  feet 
grow  diseased,  and  begin  to  fail  him. 

We  have  here,  1.  Their  duty.  2.  The  due 
extent  of  it.    3.  The  right  principle  of  it. 

1st.  Their  duty,  he  subject.  Keep  your 
order  and  station  under  your  masters,  and 
that  with  fear,  and  inward  reverence  of  mind 
and  respect  to  them  :  for  that  is  the  very  life 
of  all  obedience.  Then  their  obedience  hath 
in  it  diligent  doing,  and  patient  suffering; 
both  these  arc  in  that  word,  be  subject.  Do 
faithfully  to  your  utmost  that  which  is  in 
(rusied  to  you,  and  obey  all  their  just  com 
mands,  for  action  indeed  gijes  no  furthe'  ;  bu 


.60 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  li 


sxiffer  patiently  even  their  utmost  ri<iors  and 
severiiiep.  And  this  being  tiie  harder  part 
nt'  tlie  two,  and  yet,  a  part  tiiat  the  servants 
of  those  times  bore,  many  of  tliem  Ijeing 
more  hardly  and  slavishly  used  than  any  with 
us  (especially  those  that  were  Christian  ser- 
vants under  unchristian  masters),  therefore 
the  apostle  insists  most  on  this.  And  this  is 
the  extent  of  the  obedience  here  required, 
that  it  be  paid  to  all  kinds  of  masters,  ?iol  to 
the  i;oud  only,  but  n/so  to  the  evil ;  not  only 
to  obey,  but  to  suffer,  and  suffer  patiently, 
and  not  only  deserved,  but  even  wrongl'ul 
and  unjust  punishment. 

Now  because  this  particular  concerns  ser- 
vants, let  them  reflect  upon  their  own  car- 
riage and  examine  it  by  this  rule  ;  and  truly 
the  greatest  part  of  them  will  be  found  very 
unconformable  to  it,  being  either  closely 
fraudulent  and  deceitful,  or  grossly  stubborn 
and  disobedient,  abusing  the  lenity  and  mild- 
ness of  their  masters,  oi  murmuring  at  their 
just  severity.  So  far  are  ihey  from  the  pa- 
tient endurance  of  the  least  undue  word  of 
reproof,  much  less  of  sharper  jiunishment, 
either  truly,  or,  in  their  opinion,  undeserved. 
An(J  truly,  if  any  who  profess  religion,  dis- 
pense with  this  in  themselves,  they  mistake 
the  matter  very  much  :  for  religion  ties  them 
the  more,  whether  children  or  servants,  to 
be  most  submissive  and  obedient  even  to  the 
worst  kind  of  parents  and  masters,  always  in 
the  Lord  ;  not  obeying  any  unjust  command, 
though  they  may  and  ought  to  suff'er  patiently 
(as  it  is  here)  their  unjust  reproofs  or  punish- 
ments. 

But  on  the  other  side,  this  does  not  justify, 
nor  at  all  excuse  the  unmerciful  austerities 
and  unbridled  passion  of  masters  ;  it  is  still  a 
pervcrseness  and  crookedness  in  them,  as  the 
word  is  here,  ffvi.Xrors,  and  must  have  its  lAvn 
name,  and  shall  have  its  proper  reward  from 
the  sovereign  Master  and  Lord  of  all  the 
world. 

2dly.  There  is  here,  also,  the  due  extent 
of  this  duty,  namely,  To  the  frouard.  It  is 
a  more  deformed  thing,  to  have  a  distorted, 
crookid  mind,  or  a  froward  spirit,  than  any 
crookedness  of  the  body.  How  can  he  that 
hath  servants  under  him.  exjject  their  obedi- 
ence, when  he  can  not  c<immand  his  own  pas- 
sion, but  is  a  slave  to  it  ?  And  unless  much 
conscience  of  duty  possess  servants  (more 
than  IS  commonly  to  be  found  with  them),  it 
can  n(H  but  work  a  master  into  such  disaffec- 
tion and  disesteem  with  them,  when  he  is  of 
a  turbulent  spirit,  a  trouhh.r  of  his  ou-n  house, 
imbittering  his  affairs  and  commands  with 
rigidness  and  passion,  and  ready  to  take 
things  by  that  side  which  may  offend  and 
trouble  him,  thinking  his  servant  slights  his 
call,  when  he  may  as  well  think  he  hears 
him  not,  and  upon  every  slight  occasion, 
real  or  imagined.  Hying  out  into  reproachful 
speeches,  or  proud  threats,  contrary  to  the 
apostle  St.  Fiul's  rule,  which  he  sets  over 
tgaiusi  the  duty 'of  servants:  Forbearing 


threatening,  hiorving  that  your  Master  alsc 
is  in  hearen,  and  that  there  is  no  respect  of 
persons  wtlh  him.  Hph.  vi.  9.  Think,  there- 
fore, when  ye  shall  appear  before  the  judg- 
ment-seat ot'God,  that  your  carriage  siiall  be 
examined  and  judged  as  well  as  theirs  ;  and 
think,  that  though  we  regard  much  those 
differences  of  masters  and  servants,  yet  they 
are  nothing  with  God,  they  vanish  away  m 
his  presence. 

Consider  rrho  made  thee  to  differ.  Might 
he  not,  with  a  turn  of  his  hand,  have  made 
your  stations  just  contrary,  have  made  thee 
the  servant,  and  thy  servant  the  master  ?  But 
we  willingly  forget  those  things  that  should 
compose  our  mind  to  humility  and  meekness, 
and  blow  them  up  with  such  fancies  as 
please  and  feed  our  natural  vanity,  and  make 
us  somebody  in  our  own  account. 

However  that  Christian  servant  who  falls 
into  the  hands  of  a  froward  master,  will  not 
be  beaten  out  of  his  station  and  duly  of  obe- 
dience by  all  the  hard  and  wrongful  usage  he 
meets  with,  but  will  take  that  as  an  opportu- 
nity of  exercising  the  more  obedience  and  pa- 
tience, and  will  be  the  more  cheerfully  pa- 
tient, because  of  his  innocence,  as  the  apostle 
here  exhorts. 

Men  do  indeed  look  sometimes  upon  this 
as  a  just  plea  for  impatience,  that  they  suffer 
unjustly,  which  yet  is  very  ill  logic  ;  for,  as 
the  philosopher  said,  "Would  any  man  that 
frets  because  he  suffers  unjustly,  wish  to  de- 
serve it,  that  he  might  be  patient?"  Now, 
to  hear  them,  they  seem  to  speak  so,  when 
they  exclaim,  that  the  thing  that  vexeth 
them  most,  is,  that  they  have  not  deserved  any 
such  thing  as  is  inflicted  on  them.  Truly,  de- 
sert of  punishment  may  make  a  man  more 
silent  upon  it,  but  innocence,  rightly  consid- 
ered, makes  him  more  patient.  Guiltiness 
slops  a  man's  mouth,  indeed,  in  suffering,  but 
surely  ii  doth  not  quiet  his  mind  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, it  is  that  which  mainly  disturbs  and 
grieves  him ;  it  is  the  sting  of  suffering,  as 
sin  is  said  to  be  of  death,  1  Cor.  xv.  56.  And 
thjerefore,  Avhen  there  is  no  guilt,  the  pain  of 
suffering  can  noi  but  be  much  abated  ;  yea, 
the  apostle  here  declares,  that  to  suffer  unde- 
served, and  withal  patiently,  is  glorious  to  a 
man,  and  acceptable  to  God.  It  is  commend- 
able, indeed,  to  be  truly  patient  even  in  de- 
served sufferings,  but  the  deserving  them  tar- 
nishes the  lustre  of  that  patience,  and  makes 
it  look  more  like  restraint;  which  is  the 
apostle's  meaning,  in  preferring  spotless  suf- 
fering much  before  it.  And  this  is  indeed 
the  true  glory  of  it,  ihat  it  pleaseth  God  (sc 
it  is  rendered  in  the  close  of  the  20lh  verse, 
for  the  other  word  of  glory  in  the  beginning 
of  it);  it  is  a  pleasing  thing  in  God's  eyes, 
and  therefore  he  will  ihank  a  man  for  it,  as 
the  word  is  y<'i>is  ti'oi'  Ot-.;.  Though  we  owe 
all  our  patience  under  all  kinds  of  aflliciions 
as  a  duty  to  him,  and  though  this  grace  is 
his  own  gift,  yet  he  hath  obliged  himself  by 
his  royal  word,  not  only  to  accept  of  it,  but 


V£R.  18—20.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


181 


to  praise  u  and  reward  it  in  his  children. 
Thouo^h  ihey  lose  their  thanks  al  the  world's 
hands,  and  be  rather  scofled  at  and  taunted 
in  all  their  doings  ind  sufferings,  it  is  no 
matter;  they  can  expect  no  other  there  ;  but 
their  reward  is  on  high,  in  the  sure  and  faith- 
ful hand  of  their  Lord. 

How  often  do  men  work  earnestly,  and  do 
and  suffer  much  for  the  uncertain  wages  of 
glory  and  thanks  among  men  !  And  how 
many  of  them  fall  short  of  their  reckoning, 
either  dying  before  they  come  to  that  state 
where  they  think  to  find  it,  or  not  finding  it 
where  they  looked  for  it,  and  so  they  live  but 
to  feel  the  pain  of  their  disappointment !  Or, 
if  they  do  attain  their  end,  such  glory  and 
thanks  as  men  have  to  give  them,  what 
amounts  it  to  ?  Is  it  any  other  than  a  hand- 
ful of  nothing,  the  breath  of  their  mouths, 
and  themselves  much  like  it,  a  vapor  dying 
out  in  the  air  ?  The  most  real  thanks  they 
give,  their  solidest  rewards,  are  but  such  as  a 
man  can  not  take  home  with  him  :  or  if  they 
go  so  far  with  him,  yet,  at  farthest,  he  must 
leave  them  at  the  door,  when  he  is  to  enter 
his  everlasting  home.  All  the  riches,  and 
palaces,  and  monuments  of  honor,  that  he  had, 
and  that  are  erected  to  him  after  deatii,  as 
if  he  had  then  some  interest  in  them,  reach 
him  not  at  all.  Enjoy  them  who  will,  he 
does  not,  he  hath  no  portion  of  all  that  is 
done  under  the  sun  ;  his  own  end  is  to  him 
the  end  of  the  world. 

But  he  that  would  have  abiding  glory  and 
thanks,  must  turn  his  eye  another  way  for 
them.  All  men  desire  glory,  but  they  know 
neither  what  it  is,  nor  how  it  is  to  besought. 
He  is  upon  the  only  right  bargain  of  this  kind, 
whose  praise  (according  to  St.  Paul's  word)  is 
not  of  men,  hut  of  God.  Rom.  ii.  29.  If 
men  commend  him  not,  he  accounts  it  no 
loss,  nor  any  gain  if  they  do ;  for  he  is  bound 
for  a  couriiry  where  that  coin  goes  not,  and 
whither  he  can  not  carry  it,  and  therefore  he 
gathers  it  not.  That  which  he  seeks  in  all, 
is,  that  he  may  be  approved  and  accepted  of 
God,  whose  thanks  is  no  less,  to  the  least  of 
hose  he  accepts,  thar  n  crown  of  unfading 
^jlory.  Not  a  poor  servant  that  fears  his 
name,  and  is  obedient  and  patient  for  his 
sake,  but  shall  be  so  rewarded. 

There  be  some  kind  of  graces  and  good  ac- 
tions, which  men  (such  as  regard  any  grace) 
take  special  notice  of,  and  commend  highly — 
such  as  are  of  a  magnific  and  remarkable 
nature,  as  martyrdom,  or  doing  or  sulferiiig 
for  religion  in  some  public  way.  There  be 
again,  other  obscure  graces,  which,  if  men 
despise  them  not,  yet  they  esteem  not  much, 
as  meekness,  genileness,  and  patience  under 
private  crosses,  known  to  few  or  none.  And 
yel,  these  are  of  great  account  with  God,  aad 
therefore  sb(;uld  be  so  with  us  ;  these  are 
indeed  of  more  universal  use,  whereas  the 
other  are  but  for  high  times,  as  we  say,  for 
rare  occasions:  thes"  ffre  ev-ery  one's  work, 
but  few  are  ■  nlied  to  the  acting'  of  the  other. 


And  the  least  of  these  graces  shall  not  lose 
its  reward,  in  whose  person  soever,  as  St 
Paul  tells  us,  speaking  of  this  same  subject, 
Knoiving  that  whalsoerer  good  any  man  doeth, 
the  same  shall  he  receive  of  the  Lord,  ■whether 
he  be  bond  or  free.    Eph.  vi.  8. 

This  is  the  bounty  of  that  great  Master  we 
serve.  For  what  are  we  and  all  we  can  do, 
thai  there  should  be  the  name  of  reward  at- 
tached to  it  1  Yel  he  keeps  all  in  reckoning  ; 
not  a  poor  lame  prayer,  not  a  tear  nor  a  sigh 
poured  forth  before  him,  shall  be  lost.  Not 
any  cross,  whether  from  his  own  hand  im- 
mediately, or  coming  through  men's  hands 
that  is  taken,  what  way  soever  it  come,  as 
out  of  his  hand,  and  carried  patiently,  yea, 
and  welcomed,  and  embraced  for  his  sake, 
but  he  observes  our  so  entertaining  of  it.  Not 
an  injury  that  the  meanest  servant  bears  Chris- 
tianly,  but  goes  upon  account  with  him.  And 
he  sets  them  down  so,  as  that  they  bear  much 
value  through  his  estimate  and  way  of  reck- 
oning ol'  them,  though  in  themselves  they  are 
all  less  than  nothing  ;  as  a  worthless  counter 
stands  for  hundreds  or  thousands,  according 
to  the  place  you  set  it  in.  Happy  they  who 
have  to  deal  with  such  a  Lord,  and  who,  be 
they  servants  or  masters,  are  vowed  servants 
to  him  !  When  he  comes,  his  reward  shall  be 
with  him.  Rev.  xxii.  12. 

The  third  thing  is,  the  principle  of  this  obe- 
dience and  patience.  For  conscience  toward 
God.  This  imports,  first,  the  knowledge  of 
God,  and  of  his  will  in  some  due  measure, 
I  and  then  a  conscientious  respect  unto  him 
and  his  will  so  known,  taking  it  for  their  only 
rule  in  doing  and  suffering. 

Observe,  1.  This  declares  to  us  the  freeness 
of  the  grace  of  God  in  regard  to  men's  out- 
ward quality,  tiiiit  he  doth  often  bestow  the 
riches  of  his  grace  u|)on  persons  of  mean  con- 
dition. It  is  su])posed  here,  that  this  con- 
science toward  God,  this  saving  knowledge 
and  fear  of  his  name,  is  to  be  found  in  jer- 
vants  :  therefore  the  apostle  takes  them  with- 
in the  address  of  his  letter  among  those  who 
are  elect,  according  to  the  foreknowledge  of 
God  (ch.  i.  2),  and  sharers  of  those  dignities 
he  mentions  (ch.  ii.  9),  a  chosen  i>eneration. 
The  honor  of  a  spiritual  royalty  may  he  con- 
cealed under  the  meanncjis  of  a  servant  ;  and 
this  grace  may  be  conferred  upon  the  servant, 
and  denied  to  llie  master,  as  is  iiere  sujjposed. 
It  may  fall  out  that  a  perverse  crooked-minded 
master  may  have  a  servant  uprigiilly  minded, 
being  endowed  with  a  tender  conscienc^e  tow- 
ard God.  And  thus  the  Lord  does  to  coun 
I  teract  the  pride  of  man,  and  to  set  off  the  lus- 
j  tre  of  his  own  free  grace.  He  hath  all  to 
choose  from,  and  yet  chooses  where  men 
would  least  imagine.  See  Matthew  xi.  25; 
I  Cor.  i.  27. 

Observer  2.  Grace  finds  a  way  to  exert  it- 
self in  every  estate  where  it  exists,  and  regu- 
lates the  soul  according  to  the  particuhir  du- 
ties of  that  estate.  Whether  it  find  a  maa 
high  or  low,  a  master  or  servant,  it  requires 


182 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  li 


not  a  oliange  of  his  station,  but  works  a  ] 
change  on  his  heart,  and  teaches  him  iiow  to 
live  in  it.    The  same  spirit  that  makes  a  ^ 
Cliristian  master  pious,  and  <rentle,  and  pru- 
dent in  ciimmandiniT,  makes  a  Christian  ser- 
vant tailht'ul,  and  ohsequinus  and  diiis^eni  in 
rbe\ing-.    A  skdf'ul  ennraver  makes  you  a 
statue  iiidiirereniiy  of  wood,  or  sione,  or  mar- 
hie,  as  liu'V  are  ])ut  into  iiis  hand  :  so,  ffrace 
i'orras  a  man  to  a  Christian  way  of  walking  in 
any  estate.    There  is  a  way  lor  him  in  the 
meanest  condition  to  fflorify  God,  and  to  adorn 
the  profession  of  religion  ;  no  estate  so  low  as 
to  be  shut  out  from  that ;  and  a  rightly-in-  j 
formed  and  rightly-aflVcted  conscience  tow-  , 
ard  God,  shows  a  man  that  way,  and  causes  ' 
him  to  walk  in  it.    As  the  astrologers  say 
that  the  same  stars  that  made  Cyrus  to  be  \ 
chosen  king  among  the  armies  of  men  when  , 
he  came  to  be  a  man,  made  him  to  be  chosen 
.king  among  the  shepherd's  children  when  he 
was  a  cliild  ;  thus  grace  will  have  its  proper 
operation  in  every  estate. 

In  this,  men  readily  deceive  themselves  ;  | 
they  can  do  anything  well  in  imagination,  1 
belter  than  the  t^al  task  that  is  in  their  [ 
hands.    They  presume  that  they  could  do  , 
.God  good  service  in  some  place  of  command, 
who  serve  him  not,  as  becomes  them,  in  that  [ 
which  is  by  far  the  easier,  the  place  of  obey- 
ing wherein  he  hath  set  them.    They  tliiiik 
that  if  they  had  the  ability  and  opportunities 
that  some  men  have,  they  would  do  much 
more  for  religion,  and  for  God,  than  they  do  ; 
and  yet  they  do  nothing,  but  spoil  a  far  lower  { 
part  than  that  which  is  their  own,  and  is] 
given  them  to  study  and  act  aright  in.  But 
our  folly  and  self-ignorance  abuses  us  :  it  is 
not  our  jiart  to  choose  what  we  should  be, 
but  to  be  what  we  are,  to  his  glory  who  gives 
us  to  be  such.  Be  thy  condition  never  so  mean, 
yet,  thy  conscicncp  toward  God,  if  it  be  with- 
in ihee,  will  find  itself  work  in  that,    if  it  be 
litlje  that  is  intrusted  to  thee,  in  regard  of  thy 
outward  condition,  or  any  oth  er  wav,  he  thou 
faithful  in  that  little,  as  our  Savior  speaks, 
and  thy  reward  shall  not  be  little:  He  -hall 
make  thee  ruler  over  much.  Matt.  xxv.  3. 

Observe,      As  a  corrupt  mind  deb  seth 
the  best  and  most  excellent  callings  an  ac- 
tions, so  the  lowest  are  raised  above  tiiem- 
selves,  and  ennobled  by  a  s()iritual  mind. 
Magistrates  or  ministers,  though  their  calling  j 
and  employments  be  high,  may  have  low  in-  ; 
teniions,  and  draw  down  their  hish  calling  to  i 
those  low  intentions;  they  may  seek  them- 
selves, and  their  own  selfish  ends,  and  neg- j 
ect  God.    And  a  sincere  Christian  may  ele- 
''ate  his  low  calling  by  this  conscience  tcnvard 
God,  observing  his  will,  and  intending  his 
glory  in  it.    An  eagle  may  fly  hiirh,  and  yet 
have  its  eye  down  upon  some  carrjon  on  the 
earth  :  even  so,  a  man  may  be  standing  on 
the  earth,  and  on  some  low  part  of  it,  and  yet 
have  his  eye  upon  heaven,  and  be  contem- 
plaiing  it.    That  which  men  can  not  at  all 
see  «o  one  another,  is  the  very  thing  '.lat  is 


most  considerable  in  their  actions,  namely 
the  principle  whence  they  flow,  and  the  en*^ 
to  wliich  they  lend.  This  is  the  form  and 
life  of  actions — that  by  which  they  are  earih- 
ly  or  heavenly.  Whatsoever  be  the  matter 
of  them,  ihespiriiual  mind  hath  thatalcliymy 
indeed,  of  turning  base  metals  into  gold,  earth- 
ly employments  into  heavenly.  The  handi- 
work of  an  artisan  or  servant  who  regards 
God,  and  eyes  him  even  in  that  work,  is 
much  holier  than  the  prai/er  of  a  hypocrite  ; 
and  a  servant's  enduring  the  private  wrongs 
and  harshness  of  a  iroward  master,  bearing  it 
patiently  ybr  conscience  toward  God,  is  more 
acceptable  to  God,  than  the  sufTermgs  of 
such  as  may  endure  much  for  a  public  good 
cause,  without  a  good  and  ujiright  heart. 

This  habitude  and  posture  of  the  heart 
toward  God,  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  presses 
Jiiuch  upon  servants,  Eph.  vi.  8,  as  being  very 
needful  to  allay  the  hard  labor  and  harsk 
usage  of  many  of  them.  This  is  the  way  to 
make  all  easy,  to  undergo  it  for  God.  There 
is  no  pill  so  bitter,  but  respect  and  love  to 
God  will  sweeten  it.  And  this  is  a  very 
great  refreshment  and  comfort  to  Christians 
in  the  mean  estate  of  servants  and  other  la- 
boring men,  that  they  may  offer  up  their 
hardship  and  bodily  labor  as  a  sacrifice  to 
God,  and  say,  "Lord,  this  is  the  station 
wherein  thou  hast  set  me  in  this  world,  and 
I  desire  to  serve  thee  in  it.  What  I  do  is  for 
thee,  and  what  I  suffer  I  desire  to  bear  pa- 
tiently and  cheerfully  for  thy  sake,  in  sub- 
mission and  obedience  to  thy  will." 

For  conscience.'\  In  this  there  is,  1.  A  rev- 
erential compliance  with  God's  disposal,  both 
in  allotting  to  them  that  condition  of  life,  and 
in  particularly  choosing  their  master  for  them ; 
though  possibly  not  the  mildest  and  pleasant- 
est,  yet  the  fittest  for  their  good.  There  is 
much  in  firmly  believing  this,  and  in  heartily 
submitting  to  it ;  for  we  would,  naturally, 
rather  carve  for  ourselves,  and  shape  our  own 
estate  to  our  mind,  which  is  a  most  foolish, 
■yea,  an  impious  presumption  :  as  if  we  were 
wiser  than  he  who  hath  done  it,  and  as  if 
there  were  not  as  much,  and,  it  may  be, 
more  possibility  of  true  contentment  in  a 
mean,  than  in  a  far  higiier  condition  !  The 
master's  mind  is  often  more  toiled  than  the 
servant's  body.  But  if  our  condition  be  ap- 
I)oiiHed  us,  at  least  we  would  have  a  voice  in 
some  qualifications  and  circumstances  of  it  ; 
as  in  this,  if  a  man  must  seive,  he  would 
wish  willingly  that  God  would  allot  him  a 
meek,  gentle  master.  And  so,  in  other  things, 
if  we  must  be  sick,  we  would  be  well  accom- 
modated, and  not  want  helps  ;  but  to  have 
sickness,  and  want  means  and  friends  for  our 
help,  this  we  can  not  think  of  without  horror 
Bm  this  submission  to  God  is  never  right  til! 
all  that  concerns  us  be  given  up  into  his  hana 
to  do  with  it,  and  with  every  artick  and  cir- 
cumstance of  it,  as  seems  good  in  his  eyes 
2.  In  this  conscFence,  there  is  a  religious  and 
observant  respect  to  the  rule  which  (lod  hatli 


Ver.  21—23.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


183 


set  men  to  walk  by  in  that  condition  :  so  that 
their  obedience  depends  not  upon  any  exter- 
nal^ inducement,  tailing  when  that  fails,  but 
flows  from  an  inward  impression  of  the  law 
of  God  upon  the  heart.    Thus,  a  servant's 
obedience  and  patience  will  not  be-pinned  to 
the  goodness  and  equity  of  his  master,  but 
when  that  fails,  will  subsist  upon  its  own  in- 
ward ground  :  and  so,  generally,  in  all  other 
estates.    This  is  the  thing  that  makes  sure 
and  constant  walking ;  makes  a  man  step 
even  in  the  ways  of  God.    When  a  man's 
obedience  springs  from  that  unfailing,  un- 
changing reason,  the  command  of  God,  it  is 
a  natural  moiion,  and  therefore  keeps  on,  Slnd 
rather  grows  than  abates  ;  but  they  who  are 
moved  by  things  outward,  must  often  fail, 
beciiuse  those  things  are  not  constant  in  their 
moving  ;  as,  for  instance,  when  a  people  are 
much  acted  on  by  the  spirit  of  their  rulers, 
as  the  Jews  when  they  had  good  kings.  3. 
In  this  conscience,  there  is  a  tender  care  of 
the  glury  of  (xod,  and  the  adornment  of  reli- 
gion, which  the  apostle  premised  before  these 
particular  duties,  as  a  thing  to  be  specially 
regarded  in  them.    The  honor  of  our  Lord's 
name,  is  that  which  we  should  set  up  as  the 
mark  to  aim  all  our  actions  at.    But,  alas ! 
either  we  think  not  on  it,  or  our  hearts  slip 
out,  and  start  from  their  aiTn,//^c  bows  of  de- 
ceit, as  the  word  is,  Ps.  Ixxviii.  57.    4.  There 
IS  the  comfortable  persuasion  of  God's  appro- 
Datioii  and  acceptance  (as  it  is  expressed  in 
the  following  verse,  of  which  somewhat  be- 
fore), and  the  hope  of  that  reward  he  hath 
promised,  as  it  is.  Col.  iii.  24:  Knomna  that 
of  the  Lord  ye  shall  receive  the  inheritance, 
for  ye  serve  the  Lord  Christ.    No  les.s  than 
the  inheritance  !    So,  then,  such  servants  as 
these  are  sons  and  heirs  of  God,  co-heirs  with 
Christ.    Thus  he  that  is  a«servant,  may  be 
in  a  far  more  excellent  state  than  bis  master. 
The  servant  may  ho[)e  for,  and  aim  at  a 
kingdom,  while  the  master  is  embracing  a 
dunirliMi.    And  such  a  one  will  think  highly 
of  God's  free  grace,  and  the  looking  ever  to 
that  inheritance  makes  him  go  cheerfully 
through  all  pains  and  troubles  here,  as  /i'jht 
and  momentary,  and  not  worth  the  naming 
in  comparison  of  that  i;lori/  that  shall  be  re- 
vealed.   In  the  meaniime.  the  best  and  most 
easy  condition  ot'  the  sons  of  God  can  not  sat- 
isfy them,  nor  slay  their  si^hs  and  i^roans, 
waiting' m\il  lonijiriir  for  that  dat/  of  their  full 
redemption.  Rom.  viii.  16,  23. 

Now  this  IS  the  great  rule,  not  onlv  for  ser- 
vants, but  for  all  the  servants  of  God  in  what 
state  soever,  to  set  the  Lord  always  before 
'.hem.  Psalm  xvi.  8,  and  to  study  with  St. 
Paul,  to  have  a  conscience  void  of  offence 
toward  God  and  man,  Acts  xxiv.  16;  to  eve, 
and  to  apply  constantly  to  their  actions  and 
Iheir  inward  thoughts,  the  command  of  God  ; 
to  walk  by  that  rule  abroad,  and  at  home  in 
their  houses,  and  in  tin'  several  ways  of  their 
callin?  (as  an  exact  workman  is  .ever  and 
anon  laying  his  rule  to  his  work,  and  squar- 


]  ing  it)  ;  and  for  the  conscience  they  have  tow- 
ard God,  to  do  and  suifer  his  will  cheerfully 
I  in  everything,  being  content  that  he  choose 
!  tiieir  condition  and  their  trials  for  them  ;  only 
j  desirous  to  be  assured  that  he  hath  chosen 
i  them  for  his  own,  and  given  them  a  right  to 
I  the  glorious  liberty  o  f  the  sons  of  God,  Rom. 
viii.  21  ;  still  endeavoring  to  walk  in  that  way 
I  which  leads  to  it,  overlooking  this  moment, 
and  all  things  in  it,  accounting  it  a  very  ni- 
j  different  matter  what  is  their  outward  state 
I  here,  provided  they  may  be  happy  in  eternity. 
I  Whether  we  he  liigh  or  low  here,  bond  or 
I  free,  it  imports  little,  seeing  that  all  these 
differences  will  be  so  quickly  at  an  end,  and 
there  shall  not  be  so  much  as  any  track  or 
footstep  of  them  left.    With  particular  men, 
it  is  so  in  their  graves  ;-you  may  distinguish 
the  greater  from  the  less  by  their  tombs,  but 
by  their  dust  you  can  not :  and  with  the  whole 
world  it  shall  be  so  in  the  end.    All  monu- 
ments and  palaces,  as  well  as  cottages,  shall 
be  made  Kre,  as  our  ajjostle  tells  us.    The  ele- 
ments shall  melt  luith  fervent  heat,  and  the 
earth,  and  all  the  works  therein,  shall  be  burnt 
up.  2  Pet.  iii.  10.        ^  • 

Ver  21.  For  even  )iereimto  were  ye  called  ;  because 
Christ  also  siilFiTfd  for  us,  leaving  us  an  example, 
tliat  ye  sliniilil  iViUnw  his  steps  : 

Vf.r.  ii.  VVlio  did  no  sin,  neither  was  guile  found  in 
his  mouth  : 

Ver.  23.  Who,  when  he  was  reviled,  revili>d  not 
again;  when  he  sulTcred,  he  threatened  noi ;  but 
committed  hiVnself  to  him  that  judgeth  righteously. 

TtiE  rules  that  God  hath  set  men  to  live  by, 
are  universally  just,  and  there  is  a  universal 
obligation  upon  till  men  to  believe  them  ;  but 
as  they  are  particularly  addressed  to  his  own 
people  in  his  word,  thei/,  out  of  ([uestion,  are 
particularly  b(jund  to  yield  obedience,  and 
have  many  peculiar  persuasives  to  it,  not  ex- 
tending to  others,  which  are  therei'ore  usually 
represented  to  them,  and  pressed  upon  them, 
in  the  holy  Scriptures.  Thus  the  preface  of 
the  law  riHis  to  Israel  :  Besides  that  I  am  Je- 
hovah, and  have  su|)reme  power  to  give  men 
laws,  it  is  added,  /  am  thy  God,  es|)ecially 
thy  deliverer  from  slavery  and  bomlage,  and 
so  have  a  peculiar  right  to  thy  obedience. 
Deut.  vii.  6.  'i'hus,  the  apostle  here  urgeth 
this  point  in  hand,  of  inofTensiveness  and  pa- 
tience, particularly  in  Christian  servants,  but 
so  as  it  fits  every  Christian  in  his  station,  For 
berritnto,  savs  he,  ye  are  called.  Whatsoever 
others  do,  though  they  think  it  too  strai<rht  a 
rule,  yet  you  are  tied  to  it  by  your  own  calling 
and  profession  as  you  are  Christians  ;  and  this 
is  evidently  the  highest  and  clearest  reason 
that  can  be,  and  of  greatest  power  with  a 
Christian,  namely,  the  example  of  Jesus 
Christ  himself:  For  Christ  also  suffered  for 
us,  &c. 

So,  it  is  all  but  one  entire  argument,  viz. 
that  they  ought  thus  to  behave  t)]en>selves, 
because  it  is  the  very  thing  tncv  are  called  lo, 
as  their  conformity  to  Jesus  Christ,  who.se 
they   profess  to  be,  yea,  with  whom,  as 


184 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  II 


Christians,  they  profess  themselves  to  be 
one. 

Hereunto  were  ye  called.]  This,  in  the 
general,  is  a  thing  ihat  ought  to  be  ever  be- 
I'ore  our  eye,  to  consider  the  nature  and  end 
of  our  calling,  and  to  endeavor  in  all  things 
to  act  suitably  to  it  :  to  think  in  every  occur- 
rence, What  doth  the  calling  of  a  Christian 
require  of  me  in  this?  But  '.lie  truih  is,  the 
most  do  not  inind  this.  We  jirofess  ourselves 
to  be  Christians,  and  never  think  what  kind 
of  behavior  this  obliges  us  to,  and  what  man- 
ner of  persons  it  becomes  us  to  be  in  all  holy 
conversation,  but  ivalk  disordrrly,  out  of  our 
rank,  inordinately.  You  that  are  profane, 
were  you  called  by  the  gospel  to  serve  the 
world  and  your  lusts  ?  Were  you  called  to 
swearing  and  rioting  and  voluptuousness? 
Hear  you  not  the  apostle  testifying  the  con- 
trary, in  express  terms,  that  God  hath  not 
called  us  to  unclcanness  but  unto  holiness? 
1  Thess.  iv.  7.  You  that  are  of  proud  con- 
tentious spirits,  do  you  act  suitably  to  this 
hoiy  calling  ?  No,  for  we  are  callrd  to  peace, 
says  the  same  apostle.  1  Cor.  vii.  l.o.  But 
we  study  na<  this  holy  calling,  and  therefore, 
we  walk  so  incongfuously,  so  inilike  the  gos- 
pel :  we  he  and  do  not  the  truth,  as  St.  John 
speaks,  1  John  i.  6  :  our  actions  belie  us. 

The  particular  things  that  Christians  are 
here  said  to  be  called  to,  are,  svf'ermg,  as 
their  lot,  and  ■patience,  as  their  duty,  even 
under  the  most  unjust  and  undeserved  suf- 
ferings. 

And  both  these  are  as  large  as  the  sphere 
of  this  calling.  Not  only  servants  and  others 
of  a  mean  condition,  who,  lying  low,  are  the 
more  subject  to  rigors  and  injuries,  but  gene- 
rally, all  who  are  called  to  godliness,  Hre  like- 
wise called  to  sulferings.  2  Tim.  iii.  All 
that  will  follow  Christ,  must  do  it  in  his  livery  ; 
they  must  lake  up  their  cross.  This  is  a  very 
harsh  and  unpleasing  article  of  the  gospel  to 
a  carnal  mind,  but  the  Scriptures  conceal  it 
not.  Men  are  not  led  blindfold  into  suffer- 
ings, and  drawn  into  a  hidden  snare  by  the 
gospel's  invitations;  they  are  told  it  very 
often,  thai  they  may  not  pretend  a  surprisal, 
nor  have  any  just  plea  for  starting  back  again. 
So  our  Savior  tells  his  disciples,  why  he  was 
so  exi)ressand  plain  with  them  in  this,  These 
things  have  I  totif  you  that  ye  he  not  offended, 
John  xvi.  1  ;  as  ii'he  had  said,  I  liave'sliowed 
you  the  ruggediiess  of  your  way,  that  you 
may  not  stumble  at  it,  taking  it  to  be  a  smooth 
plain  one.  But  then,  where  this  is  spoken  of, 
it  is  usually  allayed  with  the  mention  of 
those  comforts  that  accompany  these  suffer- 
ings, or  that  glory  which  follows  them.  The 
doctrine  of  the  apostles,  which  was  so  verifi- 
ed in  their  own  persons,  was  this.  That  we. 
must,  through  much  tribulation,  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  God,  Acts  xiv.  22.  An  unpleasant 
way  indeed,  if  you  look  no  farther:  but  a 
kingdom  at  the  end  of  it,  and  that  the  kins;- 
dom  of  God,  will  transfuse  pleasure  into  the 
most  painful  step  in  it  all.    It  seems  a  sad  ] 


I  condition  that  falls  to  the  shart  of  godl\-  men 
in  this  world,  to  be  eminent  in  sorrows  and 
troubles.  Many  are  the  oj/lictions  of  the 
rinhieous.  Psalm  xxxiv.  19  :  but  that  wlfich 
follows,  weighs  them  abundantly  down  in 

I  consolation,  that  the  Lord  himself  is  engaged 
in  their  afflictions,  both  for  their  deliverance 
out  of  them  in  due  time,  and,  in  the  mean 
lime,  for  their  sujiport  and  preservation  under 
them  :  The  Lord  delivers  them  out  of  them 
all,  and  till  he  does  that,  he  keepeth  all  (heir 
bones.  This  was  literally  verified  in  the 
natural  body  of  Christ,  as  St.  John  observes, 
John  xix.  36,  and  it  holds  spiritually  true  in 
hiff  mystical  body.  The  Lord  supjiorts  the 
spirits  of  believers  in  their  troubles,  with  such 
solid  consolations  as  are  the  pillars  and 
strength  of  their  souls,  as  the  bones  are  of  the 
body,  which  the  Hebrew  word  for  them  im- 
ports. So,  he  keepeth  all  his  bones  ;  and  the 
desperate  condition  of  wicked  men  is  opposed 
to  this,  verse  21,  to  illustrate  it,  evil  shall  slay 
the  xcicked. 

Thus,  John  xvi.  33,  they  are  forewarned  in 
the  close,  what  to  exjiect  at  the  world's  hands, 
as  they  were  divers  times  before  in  that  same 
sermon  ;  but  it  is  a  sweet  testament,  take  it 
altogether  ;  Ye  shall  have  tribulation  in  the 
world,  but  peace  in  me.  And  seeing  he  hath 
jointly  bequeathed  these  two  to  his  followers, 
were  it  not  great  folly  to  renounce  such  a 
bargain,  and  to  let  go  that  peace  for  fear  of 
this  trouble?  The  trouble  is  but  m  the  world, 
but  the  peace  is  in  hun,  who  weighs  down 
thousands  of  worlds. 

So  then,  they  do  exceedingly  mistake  and 
misreckon,  who  would  reconcile  Christ  and 
the  world,  who  would  have  the  church  of 
Christ,  or,  at  least,  themselves  for  their  own 
shares,  enjoy  both  kinds  of  peace  together; 
would  willingly  iiave  peace  in  Christ,  but  are 
very  loath  to  part  with  the  world's  peace. 
They  would  be  Christians,  but  they  are  very 
ill  satisfied  when  they  hear  of  anything  but 
ease  and  prosperity  in  that  estate,  and  wil- 
lingly forget  the  tenor  of  the  gospel  in  this; 
and  so,  when  times  of  trouble  and  sufferings 
come,  their  minds  are  as  new  and  uncouth  to 
it,  as  if  they  had  not  been  told  of  it  before- 
hand. They  like  better  St.  Teler's  carnal 
advice  to  Christ,  to  avoid  suffering,  Matt, 
xvi.  22,  than  his  apostolic  doctrine  to  Chris- 
tians, teaching  them,  that  as  Christ  suffered, 
so  they  likewise  are  called  to  suffering.  Men 
are  ready  to  think  as  Peter  did,  that  Christ 
should  favor  himself  more  in  his  own  body, 
his  church,  than  to  expose  it  to  so  much  suf- 
fering ;  and  most  would  be  of  Rome's  mind 
!n  this,  at  least  in  affection,  that  the  badge 
of  the  church  should  be  pomp  and  prosperitv. 
and  not  the  cross:  the  true  cross  and  afliic- 
tions  are  too  heavy  and  painful. 

But  God''s  thowrlUs  are  not  as  ours  :  those 
whom  he  calls  to  a  kingdom,  he  calls  to  suf- 
ferings as  the  way  to  it.  He  will  have  the 
heirs  of  heaven  know,  that  they  are  not  at 
home  on  earth,  and  lhat</u,«  is  not  their  rest 


Vlk.  21—23.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


185 


He  will  not  have  them,  with  the  abused 
world,  fancy  a  iiappiness  here,  and,  as  St. 
Augustine  says,  Bealam  vitam  qucerere  in  re- 
gione  morlis — seek  a  happy  life  in  the  re- 
gion of  death.  The  reproaches  and  wrongs 
that  encounter  them  shall  elevate  their  minds 
often  to  that  land  of  peace  and  rest,  where 
righteousness  dwells.  2  Peter  iii.  13.  The 
hard  taskmaster  shall 'make  them  weary  of 
Egypt,  which  otherwise,  possibly,  they  would 
comply  too  well  with  ;  shall  dispose  them 
for  deliverance,  and  make  it  welcome,  which, 
it  may  be,  they  might  but  coldly  desire,  if 
ihey  were  better  used. 

He  knows  what  he  does,  who  secretly 
serves  his  own  good  purposes  by  men's  evil 
ones,  and,  by  the  ploughers  that  rjiake  long 
furrows  on  the  back  of  his  church  (Psalm 
cxxix.  3),  makes  it  a  fruitful  field  to  himself. 
Therefore,  it  is  great  folly  and  unadvised- 
ness,  to  take  up  a  prejudice  against  his  way, 
to  think  it  might  be  better  as  we  would  model 
it,  and  to  complain  of  the  order  of  things, 
whereas  we  should  complain  of  disordered 
minds:  but  we  had  rather  have  all  altered 
and  changed  for  us,  the  very  course  of  Prov- 
idence, tiian  seek  the  change  of  our  own  per- 
verse hearts.  But  the  right  temper  of  a 
Christian  is,  to  run  always  across  to  the  cor- 
rupt stream  of  the  world  and  human  iniquity, 
and  to  be  willingly  carried  along  with  the 
stream  of  divine  Providence,  and  not  at  all 
to  stir  a  hand,  no,  nor  a  thought,  to  row 
against  that  mighty  current  ;  and  not  only  is 
he  carried  with  it  upon  necessity,  because 
there  is  no  steering  against  it;  but  cheerfully 
and  voluntarily  ;  not  because  he  must,  but 
because  he  would. 

And  this  is  the  other  thing  to  which  Chris- 
tians are  jointly  called  ;  as  to  suflering,  so  to 
calmness  of  mind  and  patience  in  suffering, 
although  their  suffering  be  most  unjust :  yea, 
this  is  truly  a  part  of  that  duty  they  are 
called  to,  to  maintain  that  integrity  and  inof- 
fensiyeness  of  life  that  may  make  their  suf- 
ferings at  men's  hands  always  unjust.  The 
entire  duty  here,  is  innocence  and  patience; 
doing  willingly  no  wrong  to  others,  and  yet 
cheerfull)  suffering  wrong  when  done  to 
themselves.  If  eithi  of  the  two  be  want- 
ing, their  suffering  does  not  credit  their  pro- 
fession, but  dishonors  it.  If  they  be  patient 
under  deserved  suffering,  their  guiltiness 
darkens  their  patience  :  and  if  their  suffer- 
ings be  undeserved,  yea,  and  the  cause  of 
them  honorable,  yet  impatience  under  them 
stains  both  their  sufferings  and  their  cause, 
and  seems  in  part  to  justify  the  very  injus- 
tice that  is  used  against  them  ;  but  when  in- 
nocence and  [)atience  meet  together  in  suffer- 
ing, their  sufferings  are  in  their  perfect  lus- 
tre. These  are  (hey  who  honor  religion,  and 
shame  the  enemies  of  it.  It  was  the  concur- 
rence of  thi-se  two  that  was. the  very  triumph 
of  the  martyrs  in  times  of  persecution,  that 
tormented  their  tormentors,  and  made  them 
•nore  than  conquerors,  even  in  sufferings. 
24 


Now  that  we  are  called  both  to  suffering 
and  to  this  manner  of  suffering,  the  apostle 
puts  out  of  question,  by  the  supreme  exam- 
ple of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ;  for  the  sum  of 
our  calling  is,  to  follow  him.  Now  in  both 
these,  in  suffering,  and  in  suffering  innocently 
and  patiently,  the  whole  history  of  the  gos- 
pel testifies  how  complete  a  pattern  he  is. 
And  the  apostle  gives  us  here  a  summary, 
yet  a  very  clear  account  of  it. 

The  words  have  in  ihem  these  two  things, 
I.  The  perfection  of  this  example.  11.  Our 
obligation  to  follow  it. 

I.  The  example  he  sets  off  to  the  full,  1.  In 
regard  of  the  greatness  of  our  Savior's  suf- 
ferings. 2.  In  regard  of  his  spotlessness  and 
patience  in  suffering. 

The  first,  we  have  in  that  word,  he  suf- 
fered ;  and  afterward,  at  ver.  24,  we  have 
his  crucifixion  and  his  stripes  expressly  spe- 
I  cified. 

I  Now  this  is  reason  enough,  and  carries  it 
it  beyond  all  other  reason,  why  Christians 
are  called  to  a  suffering  life,  seeing  the  Lord 
and  Author  of  that  calling- suffered  himself 
so  much.  The  captain,  or  leader,  of  our  sal- 
vation, as  the  apostle  speaks,  was  consecra- 
\  ted  by  suffering,  Heh.  ii.  10;  that  was  the 
way  by  which  he  entered  into  the  holy  place, 
where  he  is  now  our  everlasting  High  Priest, 
making  intercession  for  us.  If  he  be  our 
leader  to  salvation,  must  not  we  follow  him 
in  the  way  he  leads,  whatsoever  it  is  ?  If  it 
be  (as  we  see  it  is)  by  the  way  of  sufferings, 
we  must  either  follow  on  in  that  way,  or  I'all 
short  of  salvation  ;  for  there  is  no  (jther  lead- 
er, nor  any  other  way  than  that  which  he 
opened  ;  so  that  there  is  not  only  a  coiigruity 
in  it,  that  his  followers  be  conformed  to  him 
in  suffering,  but  a  necessity,  if  they  will  fol- 
low him  on,  till  they  attain  to  glory.  And 
the  consideration  of  both  these,  can  not  but 
argue  a  Ciirisiian  into  a  resolution  for  this 
via  regia,  this  royal  way  of  suffering  that 
leads  to  glory,  through  which  their  King  and 
Lord  himself  went  to  his  glory.  It  could 
hardly  be  believed  at  first,  tliat  this  was  his 
way,  and  we  can  as  hardly  yet  believe  that 
it  must  be  ours.  O  fools,  and  slow  of  heart 
to  believe  !  Ought  not  Christ  to  have  suf- 
fered these  things,  and  so  to  enter  into  his 
glory  ?    Luke  xxiv.  25,  26. 

Would  yuu  be  at  glory,  and  will  you  no* 
follow  your  leader  in  the  only  way  to  it  'f 
IVIust  there  be  another  way  cut  out  for  you 
by  yourself  ?  0  absurd  .'  Shall  the  servant 
be  greater  than  his  master  ?  .John  xiii.  6. 
Are  you  not  fairly  dealt  with  ?  If  you  have 
a  mind  to  Christ,  you  shall  have  full  as  much 
ofjlhe  world's  g(xjd-will  as  he  had  :  if  it  hate 
you,  he  bids  you  remember,  how  it  hated 
him.    John  XV.  18. 

But  though  there  were  a  way  to  do  other- 
wise, would  you  not,  if  the  love  of  Christ 
possessed  your  hearts,  rather  choose  to  share 
with  him  in  his  lot,  and  would  you  not  find 
delight  in  he  very  trouble  of  it  ?  Is  not  this 


186 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[ChAP.  a 


confi>rmity  to  Jesup,  tho  great  ambition  of  all 
liis  triie-lii'aricd  t'ollowers?  can  y  about 

in  the  boat/  i/ie  tli/i'tg  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  says 
the  frreat  apostlci  2  Cor.  iv.  10.  Besides  the 
un.<peakahle  advantapre  to  come,  which  goes 
linked  with  this,  that  ;/  uc  suffer  with  him, 
ue  shall  reti'ii  wilh  him  (2  Tim.  ii.  12),  there 
is  a  glory,  even  in  ihis  present  resemblance, 
thai  we  are  conformed  to  the  image  of  the 
Son  of  God  in  sufferings.  Why  should  we 
desire  to  leave  him  1  Are  you  not  one  wilh 
him  ?  Can  you  choose  but  have  the  same 
common  friends  and  enemies?  Would  you 
willingly,  if  it  might  be,  could  you  find  in 
your  heart  to  be  friends  wilh  that  world 
which  hated  your  Lord  and  Master?  Would 
you  have  nothinij  but  kindness  and  ease, 
where  he  had  noihing  but  enmiiy  and  trou- 
ble ?  Or  would  you  not  rather,  when  you 
think  aright  of  it,  refuse  and  disdain  to  be  so 
unlike  him  ?  As  that  ijood  duke  said,  when 
they  would  have  crowned  him  king  of  Jeru- 
salem, No,  said  he,  by  no  means,  I  will  not 
ti-ear  a  crov  n  of  gold  where  Jesus  was  crown- 
ed with  thorns. 

2.  His  s{)otlessness  and  patience  in  suffer- 
ing, are  both  of  thero  sei  here  before  us  ;  the 
one  ver.  22,  the  other  ver.  23. 

Whosoever  ihou  art  who  makest  such  a 
noise  about  the  injustice  of  what  thou  sufi'er- 
est,  and  thinkest  to  justify  thy  impatience  by 
thine  innocence,  let  me  ask  thee,  Art  thou 
more  just  and  innocent  than  he  who  is  here 
set  before  thee?  Or,  art  thou  able  to  come 
near  him  in  this  point  ?  Who  did  no  sin, 
neither  teas  s;uile  found  in  his  mouth.  This 
is  to  signify  perfect  holiness,  according  to 
that  declaralion,  James  iii.  2,  If  any  man  of- 
fend not  in  word,  the  same  is  a  perfect  man. 
Man  is  a  little  world,  a  world  of  wickedness  ; 
and  that  little  part  of  him,  the  tongue,  is 
termed  by  St.  James  a  world  of  ini(juity. 
But  all  Christ's  words,  as  well  as  his  actions, 
and  all  his  th(jughts,  flowed  from  a  pure 
spring  that  had  not  anything  defiled  in  it; 
and  therefore  no  temptation,  either  from  men 
or  Satan,  could  seize  on  him.  Other  men 
may  seem  clear  as  long  as  they  are  unstirred, 
but  move  and  trouble  them,  and  the  mud 
arises  ;  but  he  was  nothing  but  holiness,  a 
pure  fountain,  all  purity  to  the  bottom;  and 
therefore  siir  and  trouble  him  as  they  would, 
he  was  still  alike  clear.  The  prince  of  this 
world  Cometh,  and  hath  nothing  in  me.  John 
xiv.  39. 

This  ij  the  main  ground  of  our  confidence 
m  him,  that  he  is  a  holy,  harmless,  undefiled 
High  Priest :  and  .such  a  one  became  us,  says 
the  apostle,  who  are  so  sinful.  Heb.  vii.  2(5. 
The  more  sinful  we  are,  the  more  need  th|t 
our  High  Priest  should  be  sinless  ;  and  being 
so,  we  may  build  upon  his  perfection,  as 
standing  in  our  stead,  yea,  we  are  invested 
with  him  ajid  his  ri<ihteousness. 

Again,  there  jras  no  guile  found  in  his 
rr.outh.  This  serves  to  convince  us  concnrn- 
all  the  promises  that  he  hath  made,  that 


they  are  nothing  but  truth.  Hath  he  sa.d, 
Hint  that  Cometh  to  inc  I  will  in  no  u  ise  cast 
out?  John  vi.  37.  Then  you  need  not  feai, 
how  unworthy  and  vile  soever  you  may  be  ; 
do  but  come  to  him,  and  you  have  his  word 
that  he  will  not  shut  the  door  against  you. 
And  as  he  hath  promised  access,  so  he  hath 
further  promised  ease  and  soul's  rest  to  those 
that  come.  Matt.  xi.  3d.  Then  be  confident 
to  find  that  in  him  too,  for  there  never  was  a 
false  or  guileful  word  found  in  his  mouth. 

But  to  consider  it  only  in  the -present  ac- 
tion, this  speaks  him  the  most  innocent  suf- 
ferer that  ever  was,  not  only  judicially  just 
in  his  cause,  but  entirely  just  in  his  person, 
altogether  righteous  ;  and  yet,  condemned  to 
death,  and  an  opprobrious  death  of  malefac- 
tors, and  set  between  two,  as  chief  of  the 
three!  I  am,  says  he,  the  rose  of  Sharon, 
and  the  lily  of  the  valley;  and  the  Spouse 
saith  of  him,  My  well-beloved  is  while  and 
ruddy,  Cam.  ii.  1,  10:  thus  indeed,  he  was  in 
his  death,  ruddy  in  his  bloodshed,  and  white 
in  his  innocence,  and  withal  in  his  meekness 
and  patience  ;  the  other  thing  wherein  he  ia 
here  so  exemplary. 

Who,  when  he  was  reviled,  reviled  not 
again.]  This  spotless  Lamb  of  God,  was  a 
Lamb  noth  in  guiltlessness  and  silence;  and 
the  prophet  Isaiah  expresses  the  resemblance, 
in  that  he  was  brought  as  a  lamb  to  '  the 
slaughter,  Isa.  liii.  7.  He  suffered  not  only 
an  unjust  sentence  of  death,  but  withal  unjust 
revilings,  the  contradictions  of  sinners.  No 
one  ever  did  so  little  deserve  revilings;  no 
one  ever  could  have  said  so  much  in  his  oAvn 
just  defence,  and  to  the  just  reproach  of  his 
enemies:  and  yet,  in  both,  he  preferred  si- 
lence. No  one  could  ever  threaten  so  heavy 
things  as  he  could  against  his  enemies,  and 
have  made  good  all  he  threatened,  and  yet 
no  such  thing  was  heard  from  him.  The 
heavens  and  the  earth,  as  it  were,  s])oke  their 
resentment  of  his  death  who  made  them  :  but 
he  was  silent ;  or  what  he  spoke  rnakes-  this 
still  good,  how  far  he  was  from  revilings  and 
threateninffs.  As  spices  pounded,  or  precious 
ointment  poured  out,  give  their  smell  most, 
thus,  His  name  was  an  ointment  then  poured 
forth,  together  with  his  blood  (Cant.  i.  3), 
and  filling  heaven  and  earth  wilh  its  sweet 
perfume,  was  a  savor  of  rest  and  and  peace 
in  both,  appeasing  the  wrath  of  God,  and  so 
quieting  the  consciences  of  men.  A:;d  even 
in  this  particular  was  it  then  most  fragrant, 
in  that  all  the  torments  of  the  cross,  and  all 
the  revilings  of  the  multitude,  racked  him  as 
it  were  f'lr  some  answer,  yet  could  draw  no 
other  from  hirn  than  this.  Father,  forgive 
them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do. 

Put  for  those  to  whom  this  mercy  belonged 
not,  the  apostle  tells  us  what  he  did  ;  instead 
of  revilings  and  llircatenings,  He  committed 
all  to  him  who  judgeth  righteously.  And 
this  is  the  true  method  of  Christian  patience, 
that  which  quiets  the  mind,  and  keeps  it  from 
ihe  boilmg,  tumuliuo  is  thoughts  of  revenge, 


Ver.  21—23.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


.S7 


to  turn  the  whde  matter  into  God's  hand,  to 
resign  i:  over  to  him,  to  prosecute  when  and 
as  he  ihinks  good.  Not  as  the  most,  who 
had  rather,  if  they  had  power,  do  for  them- 
selves, and  be  their  own  avengers  ;  and  be- 
cause they  have  not  the  power,  do  offer  up 
such  hitler  curses  and  prayers  for  revenge 
unto  God,  as  are  most  hateful  to  him,  and  are 
far  from  this  calm  and  liuly  way  of  commit- 
ting matters  to  his  judgment.  The  common 
way  of  referring  things  to  God,  is  indeed  im- 
pious and  dishonorable  to  him,  being  really 
no  other  than  calling  him  to  be  a  servant  and 
executioner  to  our  passion.  We  ordinarily 
mistake  his  justice,  and  judge  of  it  according 
to  our  own  precipitant  and  distempered  minds. 
If  wicked  men  be  not  crossed  in  their  designs, 
and  their  wickedness  evidently  crushed,  just 
when  we  should  have  it,  we  are  ready  to 
give  up  the  matter  as  desperate,  or  at  least 
to  abate  of  those  confident  and  reverential 
thoughts  of  Divine  justice  which  we  owe 
him.  Howsoever  things  go,  this  ought  to  be 
fixed  in  our  hearts,  that  He  who  sitteth  in 
Aeai'e/i  judgetli  righteously,  and  executes  that 
his  righteous  judgment  in  the  fittest  season. 
We  poor  worms,  whose  whole  life  is  but  a 
hand-breadth  in  itself,  and  is  as  nothing  unto 
God,  think  a  few  months  or  years  a  great 
matter  ;  but  lo  him  who  inhabiteth  eternity,  a 
thousand  years  are  but  as  one  day,  as  our 
apostle  teaches  us,  in  his  second  epistle, 
chap.  iii.  8. 

Our  Savior  in  that  time  of  his  humiliation 
and  suffering,  committed  himself  and  his 
cause  (for  that  is  best  expressed,  in  that  noth- 
ing is  expressed  but  He  committed)  to  him 
u-ho  Judgeth  righteously,  and  the  issue  shall 
be,  that  all  his  enemies  shall  hecoine  his  foot- 
stool, and  he  himself  shall  judge  them.  But 
that  wiiich  is  given  us  here  to  learn  from  his 
carriage  toward  them  in  his  suffering,  is,  that 
quietness  and  moderation  of  mind,  even  un- 
der unjust  sullerings,  tiiake  us  like  him:  not 
to  reply  to  reproach  with  rcproacli,  as  our 
custom  is,  to  give  one  ill  word  for  another,  or 
two  for  one,  to  be  sure  not  lo  be  behind. 
Men  take  a  pride  in  this,  and  think  it  ridicu- 
lous siin|diciiy  so  to  suffer,  and  this  makes 
strifes  and  contention  so  much  abound;  but 
it  is  a  great  mistake.  Vou  think  it  greatness 
of  spirit  to  bear  nothing,  to  put  up  with  no 
wrong,  whereas  indeed  it  is  great  weakness, 
and  baseness.  It  is  true  greatness  of  spirit 
to  desjjise  the  most  of  those  things  which  set 
you  usually  on  fire  one  against  another;  es- 
pecially, being  doin;  after  a  Christian  manner, 
it  were  a  pan  of  the  s[)irit  of  Christ  in  you: 
and  is  there  any  spirit  greater  than  that, 
think  you?  Oh  !  thai  there  were  less  of  the 
spirit  of  ihe  dragon,  and  more  of  the  spirit  of 
the  dove  among  them. 

II.  Our  obligation  to  follow  the  example 
of  Christ,  besides  being  enlurced  by  its  own 
excellency,  is  intimated  in  these  two  things 
contained  in  the  words:  1.  The  design  of 
his  behavior  for  this  use,  to  be  as  an  exam- 


ple to  us.  2.  Our  interest  ia  him,  and 
those  his  sufferings,  wlierein  he  so  carried 
himself. 

1.  That  his  behavior  was  intended  as  an 
example.  Leaving  us  an  example,  &:c.  Ke 
left  his  footsteps  as  a  copy  (as  the  word  in 
the  original  „-  ypafi^tou  imports),  to  be  followed 
by  us;  every  step  of  his  is  a  letter  of  this 
,  copy  ;  and  particularly  in  this  point  of  sulfer- 
;  ing,  he  wrote  us  a  pure  and  perfect  copy  of 
obedience,  in  clear  and  great  letters,  in  his 
own  blood. 

His  whole  life  is  our  rule  :  not,  indeed,  his 
miraculous  works,  his  footsteps  walking  on 
the  sea,  and  such  like,  they  are  not  for  our 
following  :  but  his  obedience,  holiness,  meek- 
ness,  and  humility,  are  our  copy,  which  we 
should  continually  study.  The  shorter  and 
more  eff'eciual  way,  they  say,  of  teaching,  is 
by  exami)le  ;  but  above  all,  this  matchless 
example  is  the  happiest  way  of  teaching. 
He  thai  follows  me,  says  our  Lord,  shall  not 
walk  in  darkness.    John  viii.  12. 

He  that  aims  high,  shoots  the  higher  for  it, 
though  he  shool  not  so  high  as  he  aims. 
This  is  what  ennobles  the  spirit  of  a  Chris- 
tian, the  propounding  ef  this  our  high  pat- 
tern, the  exam[)le  of  Jesus  Christ. 
I  The  imitation  of  men  in  worthless  things, 
is  low  and  servile  ;  the  imitation  of  their  vir- 
tues is  commendable,  but  if  we  aim  no  higher, 
it  is  both  imperfect  and  unsafe.  The  Apostle 
St.  Paul  will  have  no  imitation,  but  with  re- 
gard to  this  supreme  pattern  :  Be  ye  follow- 
ers of  me,  as  I  am  of  Christ.  1  Cor.  xi.  1. 
One  Christian  may  take  the  example  of 
Christ  as  exhibited  in  many  things,  in  an- 
other, but  siill  he  must  examine  all  by  the 
original  primitive  copy,  the  footsteps  of 
Christ  himself,  following  nothing,  but  as  it  is 
conformable  to  that,  and  looking  chiefly  on 
him,  both  as  the  most  perfect  and  most  effec- 
tual example.  See  Heb.  xii.  2.  There  is  a 
cloud  of  witnesses  and  examples,  but  look 
above  tnem  all,  lo  him,  who  is  as  high  above 
them  as  the  sun  is  above  the  clouds.  As  in 
ihe  covenant  of  grace  the  way  is  belter,  a 
living  way  indeed,  so,  there  is  iliis  advantage 
also,  that  we  are  not  left  to  our  own  skill  for 
following  it,  but  taught  by  the  Sjiirit.  In 
the  delivery  of  the  law,  God  showed  his  glory 
and  greatness  by  the  manner  of  giving  it,  but 
ihe  law  was  written  only  in  dead  tables 
But  Christ,  the  living  law,  teaches  by  obey- 
ing it, Jiow  to  obey  it;  and  this,  too,  is  the 
advantage  of  the  gospel,  thai  the  law  is  twice 
written  over  unto  believers,  first,  in  the  ex- 
ample of  Christ,  and  then  inwardly  in  their 
hearts  by  his  Spirit.  There  is,  together, 
v|iih  thai  copy  of  all  grace  in  him,  a  spirit 
derived  from  iiirn,  enabling  believers  lo  fol- 
low him  in  their  measure.  They  may  not 
only  see  him  as  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God, 
full  of  grace  and  truth,  as  it  is,  John  i.  14, 
j  but,  as  there  it  follows,  they  receive  of  his 
I  fulness  grace  for  grace.  The  love  of  Christ 
1  makes  the  soul  delight  to  converse  with  him  • 


188 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  U 


and  converse  and  love  together,  make  it  | 
learn  his  hrlravior ;  as  men  tliat  live  much 
together,  esi)ecialiy  if  they  do  much  affect 
one  another,  will  insensibly  contract  one  an- 
other's habits  and  customs. 

The  other  thing  obliging  us  is,  2dly.  Our 
interest  in  him  and  liis  sufferings  :  lie  suffered 
for  us.  And  to  tliis  the  apostle  returns,  ver. 
24.  Observe  only  from  ti>e  tie  of  these  two, 
that  if  we  neglect  his  exam})le  set  before  us, 
we  can  not  enjoy  any  right  assurance  of  his 
suffering  for  us  ;  but  if  we  do  seriously  en- 
deavor to  follow  him,  then  we  may  expect  to 
obtain  life  through  his  death,  and  those  steps 
of  liis  wherein  we  walk,  will  bring  us  ere 
long  to  be  where  he  is. 

Ver.  24.  Who  his  own  self  bare  our  sins  in  his  own 
body  on  the  tree,  tliat  we  being  dead  to  sin,  should 
live  unto  rigliteousness ;  by  whose  stripes  we  are 
healed. 

That  which  is  deepest  in  the  heart,  is  gen- 
erally most  in  the  mouth  :  that  which  abounds 
within,  runs  over  most  by  the  tongue  or  pen. 
When  men  light  upon  the  speaking  of  that 
subject  which  possesses  their  affection,  they 
can  hardly  be  taken  off,  or  drawn  from  it 
again.  Thus  the  apostles,  in  their  writings, 
when  they  make  mention  any  way  of  Christ 
suffering  for  us,  love  to  dwell  on  it,  as  that 
which  they  take  most  delight  to  speak  of ; 
such  delicacy,  such  sweetness  is  in  it  to  a 
spiritual  laste,  that  they  like  to  keep  it  in 
their  mouth,  and  are  never  out  of  their  theme 
when  they  insist  on  Jesus  Christ,  though  they 
have  but  named  him  by  occasion  of  some 
other  doctrine  :  for  he  is  the  great  subject  of 
all  they  have  to  say. 

Thus  here,  the  apostle  had  spoken  of  Christ 
in  the  foregoing  words  very  fitly  to  his  pres- 
ent subject,  setting  him  before  Christian  ser- 
vants, and  all  suffering  Christians,  as  their 
complete  example,  both  in  point  of  much  suf- 
fering, and  of  perfect  innocence  and  patience 
in  suffering  ;  and  he  had  expressed  their  ob- 
ligation to  study  and  follow  that  example; 
yet,  he  can  not  leave  it  so,  but  having  .said 
that  all  those  his  sufferings  wherein  he  was 
so  exemplary,  were  for  us,  as  a  chief  consid- 
eration for  which  we  should  study  to  be  like 
him,  he  returns  to  that  again,  and  enlarges 
upon  it  in  words  partly  the  same,  partly  very 
near  those  of  that  evangelist  among  the 
prophets,  Isaiah  liii.  4. 

And  it  suits  very  well  with  his  main  scope 
to  press  this  point,  as  giving  both  very  much 
strength  and  sweetness  to  the  exhortation  ; 
for  surely  it  is  most  reasonable  that  we  wil- 
lingly conform  to  him  in  suffering,  who  had 
never  been  an  example  of  suffering,  nor  sub- 
ject at  all  to  sufferings,  nor  in  any  degree 
capable  of  them,  but  for  us;  and  it  is  most 
comfortable  in  these  li^ht  sufferings  of  this 
presentijtpornent,  to  consider  that  he  hath 
freed  ug  from  the  sufferings  of  eternity,  by 
suffering  himself  in  our  stead  in  the  fulness 
of  time. 


Tl\at  Jesus  Christ  is,  in  doing  and  in  suf- 
fering, our  suiireme  and  matchless  example, 
and  that  he  came  to  be  so,  is  a  truth  ;  but 
that  he  is  nothing  further,  and  came  for  nc 
other  end,  is  you  see  a  high  point  of  false- 
hood. For  how  should  man  he  enabled  to 
learn  and  follow  that  example  of  obedience, 
unless  there  were  more  than  an  example  in 
Christ  ?  and  what  would  become  of  that 
great  reckoning  of  disobedience  that  man 
stands  guilty  of  ?  No,  these  are  notions  fai 
too  narrow.  He  came  to  bear  oxir  sins  in  hi., 
own  body  on  the  tree,  and  for  this  purpose, 
had  a  body  fitted  for  him  and  given  him'' to 
bear  this  burden,  to  do  this  as  tlie  will  of  his 
Father,  to  stand  for  us  instead  of  all  offerings 
and  sacrifices:  and  by  that  will,  says  the 
apostle,  we  arc  sanctified,  through  the  offer- 
ing of  the  body  of  Jesus  Christ,  once  for  all. 
Heb.  x.  9. 

This  was  his  business  not  only  to  rectify 
sinful  man  by  his  example,  but  to  redeem 
hiin  by  his  blood.  He  was  a  teacher  come 
from  God :  as  a  prophet,  he  teaches  us  the 
way  of  life,  and  as  the  best  and  greatest  of 
prophets,  is  perfectly  like  his  doctrine ;  and 
his  actions  (which  in  all  teachers  is  the  live- 
liest part  of  doctrine),  his  carriage  in  life  and 
death,  is  our  great  pattern  and  instruction. 
But  what  is  said  of  his  forerunner,  is  more 
eminently  true  of  Christ :  he  is  a  prophet, 
and  more  than  a  prophet — a  priest  satisfying 
justice  for  us,  and  a  king  conquering  sin  and 
death  for  us  ;  an  example,  indeed,  but  more 
than  an  example — our  sacrifice,  and  our  life, 
out  all  m  all.  It  is  our  duty  to  walk  as  he 
walked,  to  make  him  the  pattern  of  our  steps, 
1  John  ii.  6  ;  but  our  comfort  and  salvation 
lie  in  this,  that  he  is  the  propitiation  for  our 
sins,  ver.  2.  So,  in  the  first  chapter  of  that 
epistle,  ver.  7,  We  are  to  walk  in  the  light,  as 
he  is  in  the  light;  but  for  all  our  walking, 
we  have  need  of  that  which  follows,  that 
bears  the  great  weight — The  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  cleanseth  vs  from  all  sin.  And  so 
still,  that  glory  whicli  he  possesseth  in  his 
own  person,  is  the  pledge  of  ours  :  he  is  there 
for  us.  He  lives  to  make  intercession  for  us, 
says  the  apostle,  Heb.  vii.  25  ;  and  7  go  to 
prepare  a  place  for  you,  says  our  Lord  him- 
self.   John  xiv.  2. 

We  have  in  the  words  these  two  great 
points,  and  in  the  same  order  as  the  words 
lie:  1.  The  nature  and  quality  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  II.  The  end  of 
them. 

I.  In  this  expression  of  the  nature  and 
quality  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  we  are  to 
consider,  1.  The  commutation  of  the  persons, 
he  himself— for  us.  2.  The  work  undertaken 
and  performed,  he  bare  our  sms  in  his  own 
body  on  the  tree.  • 

1.  The  act  or  sentence  of  the  law  against 
the  breach  of  it  standing  in  force,  and  divine 
justice  expecting  satisfaction,  death  was  the 
necessary  and  inseparable  consequence  of 
sin.    If  you  say,  the  supreme  majesty  of  Cod 


Vet..  24.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


1S9 


being  accountable  to  none,  might  have  for- 
given all  without  .atisfaction,  we  are  not  to 
co.itcft  that,  nor  foolishly  to  offer  to  sound 
the  bottomless  depth  of  his  absolute  preroga- 
tive. Christ  implies  in  his  prayer,  Matt, 
xxvi.  39,  ihat  it  was  impossihle  that  he  could 
escape  that  cup  ;  but  the  impossibility  is  re- 
solved into  his  Father's  will,  as  the  cause  of 
it.  But  liiis  we  may  clearly  see,  following 
the  track  of  the  holy  Scriptures  (our  only 
safe  way),  thai  this  way  wherein  our  salva- 
tion is  contrived,  is  most  excellent,  and  suita- 
ble to  the  greatness  and  goodness  of  God  ;  so 
full  of  wonders  of  wisdom  and  love,  that  the 
angels,  as  our  apostle  tells  us  before,  can  not 
forbear  looking  on  it,  and  admiring  it ;  for  all 
their  exact  knowledge,  yet  they  still  find  it 
infinitely  beyond  their  knowledae,  still  in  as- 
tonishment and  admiration  of  what  they  see, 
and  still  in  search,  looking  in  to  see  more  : 
those  ciierubim  still  having  their  eyes  fixed 
on  this  mercy-seat. 

.Tusiice  might  indeed  have  seized  on  rebel- 
lious man,  and  laid  the  pronounced  f  unish- 
meut  on  him.  Mercy  might  have  freely  ac- 
quitted him,  and  pardoned  all.  But  can  we 
name  any  place  where  mercy  and  justice,  as 
relating  to  condemned  man,  could  have  met 
and  shined  jointly  in  full  aspect,  save  only  in 
Jesus  Christ? — in  whom,  indeed,  mercy  and 
truth  iiieA,  and  riifhtcnusness  and  peace  kissed 
each  other,  Psal.  Ixxxv.  10  ;  yea,  in  whose 
person  the  parties  concerned,  that  were  at  so 
great  a  distance,  met  so  near,  as  nearer  can 
not  be  imagined. 

And  not  only  was  this  the  sole  way  for  the 
consistency  of  these  two,  justice  and  mercy, 
but  lake  each  of  them  severally,  and  they 
could  not  have  been  manifested  in  so  full 
lustre  in  any  other  way.  God's  just  hatred 
of  sin  did,  out  of  doubt,  appear  more  in  pun- 
ishing his  own  only  begotten  Son  for  it,  than 
if  the  whole  race  of  mankind  had  sulfered  for 
it  eternally.  Again,  it  raises  the  notion  of 
rtxercy  to  the  highest,  that  sin  is  not  only  for- 
gi.en  us,  but  for  this  end  God's  own  co-eter- 
nal Son  is  given  to  us,  and  for  us.  Consider 
wliat  he  is,  and  what  we  are  ;  He  the  Son  of 
his  lore,  and  we,  enemies.  Therefore,  it  I's 
emphatically  expressed  in  the  words,  God  so 
loved  the  world,  John  iii.  10:  that  love 
amounts  to  this  much,  that  is,  was  so  great, 
as  to  'J,ive  his  Son;  but  how  great  that  love 
IS,  can  not  be  uttered.  In  this,  says  the  apos- 
tle, Rom.  V.  8,  God  commendeth  his  love  to 
us,  sets  it  off  to  the  highest,  gives  us  the 
richest  and  strongest  evidence  of  it. 

The  foundation  of  this  plan,  this  appearing 
of  Christ  for  us,  and  undergoing  and  answer- 
ing all  in  our  stead,  lies  in  the  decree  of  God, 
where  it  was  plotted  and  conirived,  in  the 
whole  way* of  it,  from  eternity;  and  the 
Father  atnd  the  Son  being  one,  and  their 
thoughts  and  will  one,  they  were  perfectly 
agreed  on  it ;  and  those  likewise  for  whom  it 
should  hold,  were  agreed  upon,  and  their 
names  written  down,  according  fo  'ch 


they  are  said  to  be  given  unto  Christ  to  re- 
deem. And  just  according  to  that  model  did 
all  the  work  proceed,  and  was  accomplished 
in  all  points,  perfectly  answering  to  the  pat- 
tern ol  it  in  the  mind  of  God.  As  it  was  pre- 
concluded  ihere,  that  the  Son  should  under- 
take the  business,  this  matchless  piece  of 
service  for  his  Father,  and  thai  by  his  inter- 
posing, men  should  be  reconciled  and  saved  ; 
so  that  he  might  be  altogether  a  fit  person  for 
the  work,  it  was  resolved,  that  as  he  was  al- 
ready fit  for  it  by  the  almightiness  of  his 
Deity  and  Godhead,  and  the  acceptablenesi 
of  his  person  to  the  Father,  as  the  Son  of 
God,  so  he  should  be  further  fitted  by  won- 
derfully uniting  weakness  to  almightiness, 
the  frailly  of  man  to  the  power  of  God.  Be- 
cause sutfering  fur  man  was  a  main  point  of 
the  work,  therefore,  as  his  being  the  Son  of 
God  made  him  acceptable  to  God,  so  his  be- 
ing the  Son  of  Man  made  him  suitable  to 
man,  in  whose  business  he  had  engaged  him- 
self, and  suitable  to  the  business  itself  to  be 
performed.  And  not  only  was  there  in  him, 
by  his  human  nature,  a  conformity  to  man 
(for  that  might  have  been  accomplished  by  a 
new  created  body),  but  a  consanguinity  with 
man,  by  a  body  framed  of  the  same  piece — 
this  Redeemer,  a  kinsman  (as  the  Hebrew 
word  goel  's),  only  purified  for  his  use,  as 
was  needfui,  and  framed  after  a  peculiar  man- 
ner, in  the  womb  of  a  virgin,  as  it  is  express- 
ed, Heb.  X.  5,  Thou  hast  fitted  a  bodi/  for 
me — having  no  sin  itself,  because  ordained  to 
have  so  much  of  our  sins:  as  it  is  here,  he 
hare  our  sins  in  his  oicn  body. 

And  this  looks  back  to  the  primitive  trans- 
action and  purpose.  Lo  .'  J  come  to  do  thy 
will,  says  the  Son.  Psalm  xl.  7.  Behold  my 
servant  whom  J  have  chosen,  says  the  Father 
(Isa.  xliii.  10),  this  masterpiece  of  my  works; 
no  one  in  heaven  or  earth  is  fit  to  serve  me, 
but  my  own  Son.  And  as  he  came  into  the 
world  according  lo  that  decree  and  will,  so 
he  goes  out  of  it  again  in  that  way.  The 
Son  of  Man  gocth  as  is  determined,  Luke 
xxii.  22:  it  was  wickedly  and  maliciously 
done  by  men  against  him,  but  it  was  deter- 
mined (which  is  what  he  llure  speaks  of) 
wisely  and  graciously  by  his  Father,  witii  his 
own  consent.  As  in  those  two-faced  pictures, 
look  up(;n  the  crucifying  of  Christ  one  way, 
as  cornplotted  by  a  treacherous  disciple  and 
malicious  jiriests  and  rulers,  and  nothing 
more  deformed  and  hateful  than  the  authors 
of  it ;  but  view  it  again,  as  determined  in 
God's  counsel,  for  the  restoring  ol'  lost  man- 
kind, and  it  is  full  of  unspeakable  beauty  and 
sweetness — infinite  wisdom  and  love  in  every 
trait  of  it. 

Thus,  also,  as  to  the  persons  for  whom 
Christ  engaged  lo  suffer,  their  coming  unto 
him  looks  back  to  that  first  donation  of  the 
Father,  as  flowing  from  that  :  All  that  the 
Father  givelh  me  shall  come  unlo  me.  John 
vi.  37. 

Now  this  being  God's  great  design,  it  iii 


190 


A  COMMENTARY    PON  THE 


fChAP.  II. 


that  which  lie  would  have  men  eye  and  con- 
sider more  than  all  the  rest  of  his  works  :  and 
j  et  it  is  least  of"  all  considered  by  the  most  ! 
The  other  coveiiaiii,  made  with  the  tirst  Adain, 
was  but  to  make  way,  and,  il  we  may  so 
speak,  to  make  work  for  this.  For  he  knew 
that  it  would  not  hold  :  therefore,  as  this  new 
covenant  became  needful  by  the  breacii  of 
the  other,  so  the  iailinff  of  that  other  sets  off 
and  commends  the  lirmiiess  of  this.  The  for- 
mer was  made  with  a  man  in  his  best  condi- 
tion, and  yet  he  kept  it  not:  even  then,  he 
proved  vanity,  as  it  is,  Psaliu  xxxix.  5,  Verily, 
every  man,  in  his  besl^  estate,  is  alto^elker 
vanity.  So  that  the  second,  that  it  might  be 
stronger,  is  made  with  a  man  indeed,  to  sup- 
ply the  place  of  the  former,  but  he  is  (loJ- 
]\lan,  to  be  surer  than  the  former,  and  there- 
iore  it  holds.  And  this  is  the  dilference,  as 
the  apostle  expresses  it,  that  the  first  Adam, 
in  that  covenant,  was  laid  as  a  founLaiion, 
and,  though  we  say  not  that  the  churcii,  in 
lis  true  notion,  was  built  on  him,  yet,  the  es- 
tate of  the  whole  race  of  mankind,  the  mate- 
rials which  the  church  is  built  of,  lay  on  him 
for  that  time  :  and  it  failed.  But  upon  this 
rock,  the  second  Adam,  is  the  church  so  firm- 
ly built,  that  the  gales  of  hell  can  not  -prevail 
against  her.  The  first  man,  Adam,  was  made 
a  living  soul;  the  last  Adam  ivus  made  a 
qvickening  (or  life-giving)  spirit.  1  Cor.  xv. 
45.  The  first  had  life,  but  he  transferred  it 
not,  yea,  he  kept  it  not  for  himself,  but  drew 
in  and  transferred  death  :  but  the  second,  by 
death,  conveys  life  to  all  that  are  reckoned 
his  seed  :  He  hare  their  sins. 

2.  As  to  the  work  itself.  He  hare  them  on 
the  tree.  In  that  outside  of  his  sufFering,  the 
visible  kind  of  death  inflicted  on  him,  in  that 
it  was  hanging  on  the  tree  of  the  cross,  there 
was  an  analogy  with  the  end  and  main  work  ; 
and  it  was  ordered  by  the  Lord  with  regard 
unto  that  end,  being  a  death  declared  accursed 
by  the  late,  as  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  observes. 
Gal.  iii.  13,  an'  so  declaring  him,  who-^vas 
God  blessed  for  ever,  to  have  been  made  a 
curse  (that  is,  accounted  as  accursed)  for  us, 
that  we  might  be  blessed  in  him,  in  whom, 
according  to  the  promise,  all  the  nations  of 
the  earth  are  blessed. 

But  that  wherein  lay  the  strength  and  main 
stress  of  his  sufferings,  was  this  invisible 
weight  which  none  could  see  who  gazed  on 
him,  but  which  he  felt  more  than  all  the  rest : 
He  bare  our  sins.  In  this  there  are  three 
things.  1.  The  weight  of  sin.  2.  The  trans- 
ferring of  it  upon  Christ.  3.  His  bearing  of  it. 

[1.]  He  bare  sin  as  a  heavy  burden  ;  so  the 
word  bearin<r  imports  in  general  (  >  ■  > 
and  those  two  words  particularly  used  by  the 
prophet,  Isaiah  liii.  4,  to  which  these  allude 
(Hii  '?;:),  imply  the  bearing  of  some  great 
mass  or  load.  And  such  sin  is:  for  it  hath 
;he  wra'h  of  an  ofTended  God  hanging  at  it, 
mdissolubly  tied  to  it,  of  which  who  can  bear 
the  least  ?  And  therefore  the  least  sin,  being 
*hf  procuring  cause  of  it,  will  press  a  man 


down  for  ever,  that  ne  shall  not  be  able  to 
rise.  Who  can  slatid  before  thee  when  onct 
thou  art  angry  ^  says  the  psalmist,  Psalra 
Ixxvi.  7.  And  the  projihel,  Jer.  iii.  12,  Re- 
turn,  backslid  I  ng  Israel,  and  J  will  not  cause 
nil/  wrath  to  fall  upon  thee — to  fall  as  a  great 
weight ;  or  as  a  millstone,  and  crush  the 
soul. 

But  senseless  we  go  light  under  the  burden 
of  sin,,  and  feel  it  not,  we  complain  not  of  it, 
and  are  therefore  truly  said  to  he  dead  in  it ; 
otherwise  it  could  not  but  press  us,  and  press 
out  complaints.  O!  wretched  man  that  I a?n  .' 
icho  shall  deliver  me  ?  A  profane,  secure  sin- 
ner thinks  it  nothing  to  break  the  holy  law 
of  God,  to  please  his  flesh,  or  the  world  ;  he 
counts  sin  a  light  matter,  makes  a  mork  of  it,, 
as  SoltiUion  says,  Prov.  xiv.  9.  But  a  stirring 
conscience  is  of  another  mind  :  Mine  iniqui- 
ties are  gone  over  my  head ;  as  a  heavy 
burden,  they  are  too  heavy  for  me.  Psalm 
xxxviii.  4. 

Sin  is  such  a  burden  as  makes  the  very 
frame  of  heaven  and  earth,  which  is  not  guil 
ly  of  it,  yea,  the  whole  creation,  to  crack  and 
groan  (it  is  the  apostle's  doctrine,  Rom.  viii. 
22),  and  yet,  the  impenitent  heart,  whose 
guiltiness  it  is,  continues  unmoved,  groaneth 
not :  for  your  accustomed  groaning  is  no  such 
matter. 

•  Yea,  to  consider  it  in  connexion  with  the 
present  subject,  where  we  may  best  read 
what  it  is,  sin  was  a  heavy  load  to  Jesus 
Christ.  In  Psalm  xl.  12,  the  psalmist,  speak- 
ing in  the  person  of  Christ,  complains  heavily. 
Innumerable  evils  have  compassed  me  about  ; 
mine  iniquities  (not  his,  as  done  by  him,  but 
yet  his,  by  his  undertaking  to  pay  for  them) 
have  taken  hold  of  me,  so  that  I  am  not  able 
to  look  up  ;  they  are  more  than  the  hairs  of 
my  head,  there  foremy  heart  fatleth  me.  And 
surely  that  which  pressed  him  so  sore  who 
upholds  heaven  and  earth,  no  other  in  heaven 
or  on  earth  could  have  sustained  and  sur- 
mounted, but  would  have  sunk  and  perished 
under  it.  Was  it,  think  you,  the  pain  of  that 
common  outside  of  his  death,  though  very 
painful,  that  drew  such  a  word  from  him, 
My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken 
me  1  ♦Or  was  it  the  fear  of  that  beforehand, 
that  pressed  a  sweat.of  blood  from  him  ?  No 
it  was  this  burden  of  sin,  the  tirst  of  whicl 
was  committed  in  the  .garden  of  Eden,  that 
then  began  to  be  laid  upon  hiu\  and  fastened 
upon  his  shoulders  in  the  garden  of  Geth- 
sernane,  ten  thousand  times  heavier  than  the 
cross  which  he  was  caused  to  bear.  That 
might  be  for  a  while  turned  over  to  another 
but  this  could  not.  This  was  the  cup  he 
trembled  at  more  than  at  that  gall  and  vine- 
gar to  be  afterward  offered  to  him  by  his  cru- 
cifiers,  or  any  part  of  his  external  sufferings: 
it  was  the  bitter  cup  of  wrath  du*e  to  sin, 
which  his  Father  put  into  his  hand,  and 
caused  him  to  drink,  the  very  same  thing 
that  is  here  called  the  hearing  our  sins  in  ha 
body. 


Ver.  24.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


191 


And  consider,  that  the  very  smallest  sins 
contributed  to  maj^e  up  this  load,  and  made 
it  so  much  the  heavier:  and  therefore,  though 
sins  be  comparatively  smaller  and  greater, 
yet  learn  thence  to  account  no  sin  in  itself 
small  which  offends  the  great  God,  and  which 
lay  heavy  upon  your  great  Redeemer  in  the 
day  of  his  sufferings. 

At  his  apprehension,  besides  the  soldiers, 
that  invisible  crowd  of  the  sins  he  was  to  suf- 
fer for,  came  about  hnn,  for  tt  was  these  that 
laid  strongest  hold  on  him :  he  could  easily 
have  shaken  off  all  the  rest,  as  appears,  Matt, 
xxvi.  33,  but  our  sins  laid  the  arrest  on  him, 
being  accounted  his,  as  it  is  in  that  forecited 
place,  Psahn  xl.  12,  Mine  iniquities,  ^iow 
among  these  were  even  those  sins  we  call 
small ;  they  were  of  the  number  that  took 
him,  and  they  were  among  those  instruments 
of  his  bloodshed.  If  the  greater  part  were 
as  the  spear  that  pierced  his  side,  the  less 
were  as  the  nails  that  pierced  his  hands  and 
his  leet,  and  the  very  least  as  the  thorns  that 
were  set  on  his  precious  head.  And  the  mul- 
titude of  them  made  up  what  was  wanting  in 
their  magnitude;  though  they  were  small, 
they  Were  many. 

[2.]  They  were  transferred  upon  him  by 
virtue  of  that  covenant  we  spoke  of.  They 
became  his  debt,  and  he  responsible  for  all 
they  came  to.  Seeing  you  have  accepted 
ol'  this  business  according  to  my  will  (may 
we  conceive  the  Father  saying  to  his  Son), 
you  must  go  through  with  it;  you  are  en- 
gaged in  it,  but  it  is  no  other  than  what  you 
understood  perfectly  before  :  you  knew  what 
it  would  cost  you,  and  yet,  out  of  joint  love 
with  me  to  those  I  named  to  be  saved  by  vou, 
you  were  as  willing  as  1  to  the  whole  under- 
taking. Now  therefore  the  time  is  come  that 
I  must  lay  upon  you  the  sins  of  all  those  per- 
sons, and  you  must  bear  them  ;  the  sins  of  all 
those  believers  who  lived  before,  and  all  who 
are  to  come  after,  lo  the  end  of  the  world. 
T/ie  Lord  laid  on  htm  the  inii/uily  of  ux  all, 
says  the  prophet  (Isa.  liii.  6),  took  it  off  froni 
us  and  charged  it  on  him.  made  it  to  meet  on 
him,  or  lo  full  in  tosether,  as  the  word  in  the 
(jriginal  im[)orts.  The  sins  of  all,  in  all  ages 
before  and  al'ier,  who  were  to  be  saved,  all 
tiieir  guiUines>  met  together  on  his  back  U[)on 
the  cross.  Whosoever  of  all  that  number  had 
least  sin,  yet  had  no  small  burden  to  cast  on 
him :  and  lo  give  accession  to  the  whole 
weight,  every  man  hath  had  his  own  way  of 
wandering;,  as  the  propiiet  there  expresseih 
it,  and  he  paid  for  all  ;  all  fell  on  him.  And 
as  in  testimony  of  his  meekness  and  patience, 
80,  in  this  respect  likewise,  was  he  so  silent 
in  his  sulfernigs,  that  though  his  enemies 
dealt  most  unjustly  with  him,  yet  he  stood 
as  convicted  lu.'ure  thi;  justice-seat  of  his 
Father,  under  the  imputed  guilt  of  all  our 
sins,  and  so  eyitig  him,  and  accounting  his 
bu.siiiess  to  be  chiefly  with  him,  lie  did  pa- 
fien'ly  bear  the  due  punishment  of  all  our! 
»ms  at  his  Father's  hand,  according  to  that  \ 


of  the  psalmist,  I  was  dwnh,  T  opened  not  my 
mouth  because  thou  didst  it.  Psalm  xxxix.  9 
Therefore  the  prophet  inunediately  subjoins 
the  description  of  his  silent  carriage,  to  that 
which  he  had  spoken  oi",  the  confluence  of 
our  iniquities  upon  him  :  As  a  sheep  before 
her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  openeth  not  his 
mouth.  Isa.  liii.  7. 

And  if  our  sins  were  thus  accounted  his, 
then,  in  the  same  way,  and  for  that  very  rea- 
son, his  sufferings  and  satisfaction  mi,ist  of 
necessity  be  accounted  ours.  As  he  said  for 
his  disciples,  to  the  men  who  came  to  take 
him,  If  it  be  me  ye  seek,  then  let  these  go  free  ; 
so  he  said  for  all  believers,  to  his  Father,  his 
wrath  then  seizing  on  him.  If  on  me  thou  wilt 
lay  hold,  then  let  these  go  free.  And  thus 
the  agreement  was :  He  ivas  made  sin  for  us 
who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might  be  made  the 
ri'rhteousness  of  God  in  him.  2  Cor.  v.  ult. 

So,  then,  there  is  a  union  between  believ- 
ers and  Jesus  Christ,  by  which  this  inter- 
change was  made;  he  being  charged  with 
their  sins,  and  they  clothed  with  his  saiislac- 
tion  and  righteousness.  This  union  is  found- 
ed, \st,  in  God's  decree  of  election,  running 
lo  this  effect,  that  they  should  live  in  Christ, 
and  so,  choosing  the  head  and  the"  whole 
mystical  body  as  one,  and  reckoning  their 
debt  as  his,  in  his  own  purpose,  that  he  might 
receive  satisfaction,  and  they  salvation,  in 
their  head,  Christ.  The  execution  of  that 
purpose  and  union  began  in  Christ's  incarna- 
tion, it  being  for  them,  though  the  nature  he 
assumed  is  theirs  in  common  with  other  men. 
It  is  said,  Heb.  ii.  16,  He  took  not  on  him  the 
nature  of  amrels.  but  the  seed  of  Abraham, 
the  company  of  believers  :  he  became  man 
for  their  sakes,  because  they  are  men.  That 
he  is  of  the  same  nature  with  unbelieving 
men  who  perish,  is  but  by  accident,  as  it 
were  :  there  is  no  good  to  them  in  that,  but 
the  great  evil  of  deeper  condemnation,  if  they 
hear  of  him,  and  believe  not  ;  but  he  was 
Ijfiade  man  to  be  like,  yea,  to  be  one  with  the 
elect,  and  he  is  not  ashamed  to  call  them  breth- 
ren, as  the  apostle  there  says,  Hebrews  ii.  11. 
2dli/,  This  union  is  also  founded  in  the  actual 
intention  of  the  Son  so  made  man  ;  he  presen- 
ting himself  to  the  Father  in  ail  he  cjid  and 
suffered,  as  for  them,  having  ihem,  and  (hem 
only,  in  his  eye  and  thoughts,  in  all.  For 
their  sakes  do  I  sanctify  myself,  John  xvii.  1, 
9.  Again,  ^dly,  This  union  is  ajiplied  and 
performed  in  them,  when  they  are  converted 
and  ingrafted  into  Jesus  Christ  by  faith  ;  and 
this  doth  actually  discharge  them  of  their 
own  sins,  and  entitle  them  to  his  righteous- 
ness, and  so  justify  them  in  the  sight  of  God. 
ithly.  The  consuinmaiinn  of  this  union,  is  in 
glory,  which  is  the  result  and  fruit  of  all  the 
former.  As  it  began  in  heaven,  it  is  com- 
pleted there  :  but  between  these  two  in  heav- 
en, the  intervention  of  those  other  two  de- 
grees of  it  on  earth  was  necessary,  being  in- 
tended in  the  first,  as  tending  to  the  attain- 
ment of  the  last.    These  four  siej>s  of  it  are 


192 


A  COMMENTAKY  UPON  THE 


[Chap  11. 


all  dislmclly  expressed  in  our  Lord's  own 
prayiT,  Joliii  xvii.  Isi,  God's  purpose  that 
the  Son  should  give  eternal  life  to  those 
whom  he  hath  f>ire>i  him,  ver.  2.  2dly,  The 
Son's  undertaking  and  accomplishing  their 
reilcnipiion,  iu  verse  4:  I  have  finished  the 
ivork  which  thou  f^avest  vw  to  do.  odly,  The 
application  of  this  union,  and  its  performance 
in  them,  hy  their  failh,  their  helievin'^,  and 
keepinc;  his  word,  ver.  6,  8,  and  in  several  of 
the  suhsequent  verses.  And  then,  lastly,  the 
consummation  of  this  union,  ver.  24:  I  tvill 
that  iheyu-huin  thou  hast  ijiven  me,  he  with  me 
u'here  I  am.  There  meet  the  first  donation, 
and  the  last. 

Now  to  obtain  this  life  for  them,  Christ 
died  in  their  stead.  He  appeared  as  the  High- 
Priest,  being  perfectly  and  truly  what  the 
name  was  on  their  plate  of  gold,  holiness  to 
the  Lord,  Exod.  xxviii.  36,  and  so  hearing 
their  iniijuitij,  as  it  is  there  added  of  Aaron, 
ver.  38.  But  because  the  High-Priest  was 
not  the  Redeemer,  but  only  prefigured  him, 
lie  did  not  himself  suifer  for  the  people's  sin, 
but  turned  it  over  upon  the  beasts  which  he 
sacrificed,  signifying  that  translation  of  sin, 
by  laying  his  hand  upon  the  head  of  ihe  beast. 
But  J<."sus  Christ  is  both  the  great  high-priest 
and  the  great  sacrifice  in  one  ;  and  this  seems 
to  be  here  implied  in  these  words,  himself 
bare  our  sins  in  his  oicn  body,  which  the 
Priest  under  the  law  did  not.  So,  Isa.  liii.  10, 
and  Heb.  ix.  12,  He  made  his  soul  an  "ffering 
for  sin.  He  offered  up  himself,  his  ivhole 
self.  In  the  history  of  the  gospel,  it  is  said, 
that  his  soul  rvas  heavy,  and  chiefly  suff'ered  ; 
but  it  is  the  bearing  sin  in  his  body,  and  offer- 
ing it,  that  is  ofteiicst  mentioned  as  the  visi- 
ble part  of  the  sacrifice,  and  as  his  way  of 
offering  it,  not  excluding  the  other.  Thus 
(Rom.  xii.  1)  we  are  exhorted  to  give  our 
bodies,  in  opposition  to  the  bodies  of  beasts, 
and  they  are  therefore  called  a  living  sacrifice, 
which  they  are  not  without  the  soul.  So, 
Christ's  bearing  it  in  his  body,  imports  tf^ 
bearing  of  it  in  his  soul  too. 

[3.]  His  hearing  of  our  sins,  hints  that  he 
was  active  and  willing  in  his  suff'ering  for  us  ; 
it  was  not  a  constrained  offering.  He  laid 
doicn  his  life,  as  he  himself  tells  us,  John  x. 
18  ;  and  this  expression  here.  He  hare,  im- 
plies. He  took  willingly  off,  lifted  from  us 
that  burden,  to  bear  it  himself.  It  was  count- 
ed an  ill  sign  ainonc  the  heathens,  when 
the  beasts  went  unwillingly  to  be  sacrificed, 
and  drew  back,  and  a  g(Jod  omen  when  they 
went  willingly.  But  never  was  sacrifice  so 
willing  as  our  great  sacrifice  ;  aad  we  may  be 
assured  he  hath  appeased  his  Father's  wrath, 
and  wrought  atonement  for  us.  Isaac  was  in 
this  a  type  of  Christ ;  we  hear  of  no  reluct- 
ance ;  he  submitted  quietly  to  be  bound  when 
he  was  to  be  offered  up.  There  are  two 
words  used  in  Isaiah,  chap.  liii.  4,  the  one 
signifying  hearins(,  the  other,  taking  away. 
This  bearin'j;  includes,  also,  that  taking  away 
of  the  sins  of  the  world,  spoken  of  by  St.  John, 


chap.  i.  29,  which  answers  to  both  :  and  st 
he,  the  great  antitype,  i^swers  to  both  the 
goats,  ihe  sin-offering  and  the  scape-goat, 
Levit.  xvi.  He  did  hear  our  sins  on  his  cross, 
and  thence  did  bear  them  away  to  liis 
grave,  and  there  they  are  buried  ;  and  they 
whose  sins  he  did  so  ijear,  and  take  away, 
and  bury,  shall  hear  no  more  of  them  as  theirs 
to  bear.  Is  he  not,  then,  worthy  to  be  beheld, 
in  that  notion  under  which  John,  in  the  fi)re- 
mentioned  text,  viewed  him,  and  designates 
him  ? — Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  bearelh 
and  taketh  aicay  the  sins  of  the  world  ! 

You,  then,  who  are  gazing  on  vanity,  be 
persuaded  to  turn  your  eyes  this  Avay,  and 
behold  this  lasting  wonder,  this  Lord  of  life 
dying!    But  the  most,  alas!  want  a  due  eye 
for  this  object.    It  is  the  eye  of  faith  alone, 
that  looks  aright  on  him,  and  is  daily  discov- 
ering  new  worlds  of  excellency  and  delight 
in  this  crucified  Savior  ;  that  can  view  him 
daily,  as  hanging  on  the  cross,  without  the 
childish,  gaudy  help  of  a  crucifix,  and  grow 
in  the  knowledge  of  that  love  which  passeth 
j  knowledge, and  rejoice  itself  in  frequeiii  think- 
I  ing  and  speaking  of  him,  instead  of  those  idle 
I  and  vain  thoughts  at  the  best,  and  empty  dis- 
courses,  wherein  the  most  delight,  and  wear 
,  out  the  day.     What  is  all  knowledge  but 
painted  folly  in  comparison  of  this?  Hadst 
:  thou  Solomon's  faculty  to  discourse  of  all 
plants,  and  hadst  not  tlic  right  knowledge  of 
this  root  of  Jesse  ;  wert  thou  singular  in  the 
I  knowledge  of  the  stars  and  of  the  course  of 
\  the  heavens,  and  couldst  walk  through  the 
'  spheres  with  a  Jacoh^s  staff,  but  ignorant  oi 
this  star  of  Jacob  ;  if  thou  knewest  the  histo- 
ries of  all  time,  and  the  life  and  death  of  all 
the  most  famous  ])rinces,  and  could  rehearse 
them  all,  but  dost  not  spiritually  know  and 
apjily  to  thyself  the  death  of  Jesus  as  thy  life  ; 
thou  art  still  a  wretched  fool,  and  all  thy  knowl- 
edge with  thee  shall  quickly  perish.    On  the 
other  side,  if  thy  capacity  or  breeding  hath 
denied  thee  the  knowledge  of  all  these  things 
wherein  men  glory  so  much,  vet,  do  but  learn 
Christ  crucified,  and  what  wouldst  thou  have 
more  ?    That  shall  make  thee  happy  for  ever. 
For  this  is  life  eternal,  to  know  thee  the  only 
true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  thou  hast 
sent.    John  xvii.  3. 

Here  St.  Paul  takes  up  his  rest,  I  determined 
to  know  nothing,  but  Jes7is  Christ  and  him 
crucified.  1  Cor.  ii.  2.  As  if  he  had  said, 
Whatsoever  I  knew  besides,  I  resolved  to  be 
US  if  I  knew  nothing  besides  this,  the  only 
knowledge  wherein  I  will  rejoice  myself,  and 
which  I  will  labor  to  impart  to  others.  I 
have  tried  and  compared  the  rest,  and  find 
them  all  unworthy  of  their  room  beside  this, 
and  my  whole  soul  too  little  for  this.  I  have 
passed  this  judgment  and  sentence  on  all.  I 
have  adjudged  myself  to  deny  all  other  knowl- 
edge, and  confined  myself  within  this  circle, 
and  I  am  not  straitened.  No,  there  is  room 
enough  in  it  ;  it  is  larger  than  heaven  and 
earth,  Christ,  and  him  crucified ;  the  most 


Ver.  24.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


193 


despised  and  ignominious  part  of  knowledge, 
yet  the  sweetest  and  most  comfortable  part 
of  all :  the  root  whence  all  our  hopes  of  life, 
and  all  our  spiritual  joys  do  sprins;. 

But  the  greatest  part  of  mankind  hear  this 
subject  as  a  story.  Some  are  a  little  moved 
".;''-*,h  the  present  sound  of  it,  but  they  draw 
;  not  home  into  their  hearts,  to  make  it  theirs, 
an  '  "o  find  salvation  in  it,  but  still  cleave  to 
sin,  and  love  sin  better  than  him  who  suffer- 
ed for  it. 

But  you  whose  hearts  the  Lord  hath  deeply 
humbled  under  a  sense  of  sin,  come  to  this 
depth  of  consolation,  and  try  it,  that  you  may 
have  experience  of  the  sweetness  and  riches 
of  it.  Study  this  point  thorouirhly,  and  you 
will  find  it  answer  all,  and  quiet  your  con- 
sciences. Apply  this  bearin<;  of  sin  by  the 
Lord  Jesus  for  you,  for  it  is  published  and 
made  known  to  you  for  this  purpose.  This 
is  the  genuine  and  true  use  of  it,  as  of  the 
brazen  serpent,  not  that  the  people  might 
emptily  gaze  on  the  fabric  of  it,  hut  that 
those  that  looked  on  it  might  be  cured.  When 
all  that  can  be  said,  is  said  against  you,  "  It 
is  true,"  may  you  say,  "  but  it  is  all  satisfied 
for  ;  he  on  whom  I  rest,  made  it  his,  and  did 
bear  it. for  me."  The  person  of  Christ  is  of 
more  worth  than  al!  men,  yea,  than  all  the 
creatures,  and  iht-refore,  his  life  was  a  full 
ransom  for  the  greatest  offender. 

And  as  for  outward  troubles  and  sufferings, 
which  were  ihe  occasion  of  this  doctrine  in 
this  jilace,  they  are  all  made  exceeding  light 
by  the  removal  of  this  great  pressure.  Let 
the  Lord  lay  on  me  what  he  will,  seeing  he 
hath  taken  off  tny  sin,  and  laid  that  on  his 
own  Son  in  my  stead.  I  may  suffer  many 
things,  but  he  hath  borne  that  for  me,  which 
alone  was  able  to  make  me  miserable. 

And  you  that  have  this  persuasion,  how 
will  your  hearts  be  taken  up  with  his  love, 
who  has  so  loved  ynu  as  to  jrive  himself  for 
you  :  who  interposed  himself  to  bear  off^frorn 
you  the  stroke  of  everlasting  death,  and  en- 
countered all  the  wrath  due  to  us,  and  went 
through  with  that  great  work,  by  reason  of 
his  unspeakable  love!  Let  hirn  never  go 
forth  from  my  heart,  who  for  my  sake  refused 
to  go  down  from  the  cross. 

II.  The  end  of  these  sufferings.  That  we 
being  dead  to  sin,  should  live  unto  ris^hteous- 
ness.]  The  Lord  doth  nothing  in  vain  ;  he 
hath  not  made  ihe  least  of  his  works  to  no 
purpose  :  ?n  wisdom  hath  he  made  them  all, 
says  the  psaltnist.  And  ihis  is  true,  not  only 
in  regard  of  their  excellent  frame  and  order, 
but  of  their  end,  which  is  a  chief  point  of 
wisdom.  So  then,  in  order  to  a  right  knowl- 
edge of  this  great  w(jrk  put  into  the  hands 
Jesus  Christ,  it  is  of  special  concern  to  under- 
stand what  is  its  end. 

Now  this  is  the  thing  which  Divine  wis- 
dom pnd  love  aimed  at  in  that  great  underta- 
king, and  therefore  it  will  be  our  truest  wis- 
dom, and  the  truest  evidence  of  our  reflex 
love,  to  intend  the  same  thing,  that  iu  this, 
25 


the  same  mind  may  he  in  us,  that  wa  m  Christ 
Jesus  in  his  suffering  for  us  ;  for  'his  very 
end  it  is  expressed.  That  we  beinfr  dead  to 
sin,  should  live  to  righteousness. 

In  this  there  are  three  things  to  ne  consid- 
ered :  Isf,  What  this  death  and  life  is  ;  2dly, 
The  designing  of  it  in  the  suffe'-ings  and 
death  of  Jesus  Christ ;  3dly,  The  ejecting  of 
it  by  them. 

1st.  What  this  death  and  life  is.  Whatso- 
ever it  is,  surely  it  is  no  small  chrnge  that 
bears  the  name  of  the  great  and  la?t  natural 
change  that  we  are  subject  to,  a  d-iath,  and 
then  another  kind  of  life  succeeding  to  it. 

In  this  the  greatest  part  of  mankind  are 
I  mistaken,  that  they  take  any  slight  alteration 
in  themselves  for  true  conversion.  A  world 
of  people  are  deluded  with  superficial  moral 
changes  in  their  life,  some  rectifying  of  their 
outward  actions  and  course  of  life,  avi'X  some- 
what too  in  the  temper  and  habit  of  their 
mind.  Far  from  reacliing  the  bottom  of  na- 
ture's wickedness,  and  laying  the  axe  'o  the 
root  of  Ihe  tree,  it  is  such  a  work  as  m'^n  can 
make  a  shift  with  by  themselves.  Bi-t  the 
renovation  which  the  Spirit  of  God  worketh, 
is  like  himself:  it  is  so  deep  and  to'al  a 
work,  that  it  is  justly  called  by  the  name  of 
the  most  substantial  works  and  productions  : 
a  ncir  birth,  and  more  than  that,  a  new  trea- 
tion,  and  here,  a  death  and  a  kind  of  lift  fol- 
lowing it. 

This  death  to  sin,  supposes  a  former  Iv  -ing 
in  it,  and  to  it ;  and  while  a  man  does  so  he 
is  said  indeed  to  be  dead  in  sin,  and  yet 
witiial,  this  is  true,  thai  he  lives  in  sin,  as  the 
apostle,  speaking  of  widows,  joins  the  ex- 
pressions, 1  Tim.  V.  6,  She  that  Uvcth  m 
pleasure,  is  dead  while  she  liveth.  So  Eidi  ii. 
1,  I)ead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  and  he  adds, 
wherein  ye  walked,  which  imports  a  life,  such 
a  one  as  it  is;  and  more  expressly,  ver.  3, 
We  had  our  conversation  in  the  lusts  of  the 
flesh.  Now,  thus  to  live  in  sin,  is  termed' 
being  dead  in  it,  because  in  that  condition, 
man  is  indeed  dead  in  respect  of  that  Divine 
life  of  the  soul,  that  happy  being  which  it 
should  have  in  union  with  God,  for  which  it 
was  made,  and  without  which  it  had  better 
not  be  at  all.  For  that  life,  as  it  is  different 
from  its  natural  being,  and  a  kind  (jf  life 
above  it,  so  it  is  contrary  to  that  corrupt  be- 
ing and  life  it  hath  in  sin  :  and  therefore,  to 
live  in  sin,  is  to  be  dead  in  it,  being  a  de- 
privernent  of  that  Divine  being,  that  life  of 
the  soul  in  God,  in  com[)arison  whereof  not 
only  the  base  life  it  hath  m  sin,  but  the  very 
natural  life  it  hath  in  the  body,  and  which 
the  body  hath  by  it,  is  not  worthy  of  the 
name  of  life.  You  see  the  body,  when  the 
thread  of  its  union  with  the  soul  is  cut,  be- 
come not  only  straightway  a  motionless  lump, 
but  within  a  little  time,  a  ])Utrelied,  noisome 
carcass  ;  and  thus  the  soul  by  sin  cut  off  from 
God  who  is  its  life,  as  is  the  soul  that  of  the 
body,  hath  not  only  no  moving  faculty  in 
gt;od,  but  becomes  full  of  rottenness  and'  vile- 


194 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  II. 


ness:  as  the  word  is,  Psalm  xiv.  2,  They  are 
gone  aside  and  heconie  filthy.  Tlic  soul,  by 
turning  away  from  Goil,  turns  filthy  ;  Vet,  as 
a  man  thus  spiritually  dead,  lives  naturally, 
so,  because  he  acts  and  spends  that  natural 
life  in  the  ways  of  sin,  he  is  said  to  live  m 
sin.  Yea,  there  is  somewhat  more  in  that 
expression  than  the  mere  passing  of  his  life 
in  that  way  :  for  instead  of  that  happy  life 
his  soul  should  have  in  (rod,  he  jileases  him- 
self in  the  miserable  life  of  sin,  tliat  which  is 
his  death,  as  if  it  were  the  proper  life  of  his 
soul :  living  in  it  imports  that  natural  pro- 
pension  he  hath  to  sin,  and  the  continual  de- 
light he  takes  in  it,  as  in  his  element,  and 
living  to  it,  as  if  that  were  the  very  end  of 
liis  being.  In  that  estate,  neither  his  bodv 
nor  his  mind  stirreth  without  sin.  Setting 
aside  his  manifest  breaches  of  the  law,  those 
actions  that  are  evidently  and  totally  sinful, 
his  natural  actions,  his  eatina;  and  drinking, 
his  religious  actions,  his  ))raying,  and  hear- 
mg,  and  preaching,  are  sin  at  the  bottom. 
And  generally,  his  heart  is  no  other  than  a 
forge  of  sin.  Every  imagination,  every  fic- 
tion of  things  framed  there,  is  only  einl  con- 
tinually ;  Gen.  vi.  5 :  every  day,  and  all  the 
day  long,  it  is  his  very  trade  and  life. 

Now,  in  opposition  to  this  life  of  sin,  this 
living  in  it  and  to  it,  a  Christian  is  said  to  die 
to  sin,  to  be  cut  off  or  separated  from  it.  In 
our  miserable  natural  state,  there  is  as  close 
a  union  between  us  and  sin,  as  between  our 
souls  and  bodies :  it  lives  in  us,  and  we  in  it, 
and  the  longer  we  live  in  that  condition,  the 
more  the  union  grows,  and  the  harder  it  is  to 
dissolve  it;  and  it  is  as  old  as  tlie  union  of 
soul  and  body,  Ijegun  with  it,  so  that  nothing 
but  the  death  here  spoken  of  can  part  them. 
And  this  death,  in  this  relative  sense,  is  mu- 
tual :  in  the  work  of  conversion,  sin  dies,  and 
the  soul  dies  to  sin,  and  these  two  are  really 
one  and  the  same  thing.  The  spirit  of  God 
kills  both  at  one  blow,  sin  in  the  soul,  and  the 
«oul  to  sin:  as  the  apostle  says  of  himself 
tnd  the  world,  Gal.  vi.  14,  each  is  crucified 
10  the  other. 

And  there  are  in  it  chiefly  these  two  things, 
which  make  the  difference,  [1,]  the  solidity, 
and  [2,]  the  universality  of  this  change  here 
represented  under  the  notion  of  death. 

Many  things  may  lie  in  a  man's  way  be- 
tween him  and  the  acting  of  divers  sins 
which  possibly  he  aff'ects  most.  Rome  re- 
straints, either  outward  or  inward,  may  be 
upon  him,  the  authority  of  otliers,  the  fear  of 
shame  or  punisiimenl,  or  the  check  of  an  en- 
lightened conscience :  and  though  by  reason 
of  these,  he  commit  not  the  sin  he  would,  yet 
he  lives  m  it,  because  he  loves  it,  because  he 
would  commit  it:  as  we  say,  the  soul  lives 
not  so  much  where  it  animates,  as  where  it 
loves.  And  generally,  that  metaiihorical  kind 
of  life,  by  wiiich  man  is  said  to  live  in  any- 
thing, hath  its  priri'-ipal  seat  in  the  affection: 
that  is  ihe  iminediate  link  of  the  union  in 
such  a  life;  and  the  untying  and  death  con- 


sists chiefly  in  the  disengagement  of  the 
heart,  the  breaking  off  the  allcciitm  from  it. 
Ye  that  love  the  Lord,  says  the  p^almisl, //«<e 
evil.  Psalm  xcvii.  10.  An  unrenewed  mind 
may  have  some  temporary  dislikes  even  of  its 
beloved  sins  in  cold  Idood,  but  it  returns  to 
like  them  within  a  while.  A  man  may  not 
only  have  times  of  cessation  from  bis  wonted 
way  of  sinning,  but,  by  reason  of  the  society 
wherein  he  is,  and  the  withdrawing  of  occa- 
sion to  sin,  and  divers  other  causes,  bis  very 
desire  afier  it  may  seem  to  himself  to  be  aba- 
ted, and  yet  he  may  be  not  dead  to  sin,  but 
only  asleep  to  it ;  and  therefore,  when  a  temp- 
tation, backed  with  opportunity  and  other  in- 
ducing circumstances,  comes  and  jogs  him, 
he  awakes,  and  arises,  and  follows  it. 

A  man  may  for  a  while  distaste  some 
meat  which  he  loves  (possibly  u])on  a  sur- 
feit), but  he  quickly  regains  bis  liking  of  it. 
Every  quarrel  with  sin,  every  fit  of  dislike  to 
it,  is  not  that  hatred,  which  is  implied  in  dy- 
ing to  sin.  Upon  the  lively  rein-esentaiion  of 
the  deformity  of  his  sin  to  his  mind,  certainly 
a  natural  man  may  fall  out  with  it  ;  but  this 
is  but  as  the  little  jars  of  husband  and  wife, 
which  are  far  from  dissolving  the  marriage: 
it  is  not  a  fixed  hatred,  such  as  among  the 
Jews  inferred  a  divorce — If  thou  hale  her, 
-put  her  aivay  ;  that  is  to  die  to  it ;  as  by  a  le- 
gal divorce  the  husband  and  wife  are  civilly 
dead  one  to  another  in  regard  to  the  tie  and 
use  of  marriage. 

Again  ;  some  men's  education,  and  custom, 
and  moral  principles,  may  free  them  from  the 
grossest  kind  of  sins,  yea,  a  man's  temper  may 
be  averse  from  them,  but  they  are  alive  to 
their  own  kind  of  sins,  such  as  possibly  are 
not  so  deformed  in  the  common  account,  cov- 
eti^usness,  or  pride,  or  hardness  of  heart,  and 
either  a  hatred  or  a  disdain  of  the  ways  of 
holiness  which  are  too  strict  for  them,  and 
exceed  their  size.  Besides,  for  the  good  of 
human  society,  and  for  the  interest  of  his 
own  church  and  people,  God  restrains  many 
natural  men  from  the  height  of  wickedness, 
and  gives  them  moral  virtues.  There  be 
very  many,  and  very  common  sins,  which 
more  refined, natures,  it  may  be,  are  scarcely 
tempted  to  :  but  as  in  their  diet,  and  apparel, 
and  other  things  in  their  natural  lil'e,  they 
have  the  same  kind  of  being  wiili  other  per- 
sons, though  they  are  more  neat  and  elegant, 
so,  in  this  living  to  sin,  they  live  the  same 
life  with  other  ungodly  men,  though  with  a 
little  more  delicacy. 

They  consider  not  that  the  devils  are  not 
in  themselves  subject  to,nor  capable  of,  many 
of  those  sins  that  are  accounted  grossest 
among  men,  and  yet  are  greater  rebels  and 
enemies  to  God  than  men  are. 

But  to  be  dead  to  sin  goes  deeper,  and  ex- 
tends further  than  all  this  ;  it  involves  a  most 
inward  alienation  of  heart  from  sin,  and  most 
universal  fromall  sin, an  antijiathy  to  themost 
beloved  sin.  Not  only  doth  the  believer  for- 
bear sin,  but  he  hales  it — 1  hale  vain  ihoughtSt 


Ver.  24.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


Psalm  cxix.  113  ;  and  not  only  doth  he  hate  | 
some  sins,  but  all — 1  hale  every  false  way,  ver. 
128.  A  stroke  at  the  heart  does  it,  which  is  the 
certainest  and  quickest  deaih  of  any  wound. 
For  in  this  dying  to  sin,  the  whole  man  of 
DP'-essity  dies  to  it ;  the  mind  dies  to  the  de- 
vice and  study  of  sin,  that  vein  of  invention 
becomes  dead  ;  the  hand  dies  to  the  acting  of 
.t ;  the  ear,  to  the  delightful  hearing  of  things 
profane  and  sinful ;  the  tongue,  to  the  world's 
dialect  of  oaths,  and  rotten  speaking,  and  cal- 
umny, and  evil-speaking,  which  is  the  com- 
monest effect  of  the  tongue's  life  in  sin — the 
very  natural  heat  of  sin  exerts  and  vents  itself 
most  that  way  ;  the  eye  becomes  dead  to 
that  intemperate  look  that  Solomon  speaks 
of,  when  he  cautions  us  against  eying  the  wine 
when  it  is  red  and  well-colored  in  the  cvp, 
Prov.  xxiii.  31 :  it  is  not  taken  with  looking 
on  the  glittering  skin  of  that  serpent  till  it  bite 
and  sting,  as  there  he  adds.  It  becomes  also 
dead  to  that  unchaste  look  which  kindles  fire  in 
the  heart,  to  which  Job  blindfolded  and  dead- 
ened his  eyes,  by  an  express  compact  and 
agreement  with  them:  /  have  made  a  cove- 
nant with  mine  eyes.    Job  xxxi.  1. 

The  eye  of  a  godly  man  is  not  fixed  on  the 
false  sparkling  of  the  world's  pomp,  honor,  and 
wealth  ;  it  is  dead  to  them,  being  quite  daz- 
zled with  a  greater  beauty.  The  grass  looks 
fine  in  the  morning,  when  it  is  set  with  those 
liquid  pearls,  the  drops  of  dew  that  shine  upon 
it;  but  if  you  can  look  but  a  little  while  on 
the  body  of  the  sun,  and  then  look  down 
again,  the  eye  is  as  it  were  dead  :  it  sees  not 
that  I'aint  shining  on  the  earth  that  it  thought 
so  gay  before :  and  as  the  eye  is  Ijlinded,  and 
dies  to  it,  so,  within  a  few  hours,  that  gayely 
quite  evanishes  and  dies  itself. 

Men  think  it  strange  that  the  godly  are  not 
fond  of  tneir  diet,  that  their  appetite  is  not 
stirred  with  desire  of  their  delights  and  dain- 
ties ;  they  know  noi  that  such  as  be  Chris- 
tians indeed,  are  dead  to  those  things,  and  the 
best  dishes  that  are  set  before  a  dead  man, 
give  him  not  a  stomach.  The  godly  man's 
throat  is  cut  to  those  meats,  as  Solomon  advises 
in  another  subject,  Prov.  xxiii.  2.  But  why 
may  not  you  be  a  little  more  sociable  to  fol- 
low the  fashion  of  the  world,  and  take  a 
share  with  your  neighbors,  may  some  say, 
without  so  precisely  and  narrowly  examining 
everything?  It  is  true,  says  the  Christian, 
that  the  time  was  when  I  advised  as  little 
witli  conscience  as  others,  but  sought  my- 
self, and  pleaded  myself,  as  they  do,  and 
looked  no  further  ,  but  that  was  when  I  was 
alive  to  those  ways  ;  but  now,  truly,  /  am 
dead  to  them:  and  can  you  look  for  activity 
and  conversation  from  a  dead  man?  The 
pleasures  of  sin  wherein  I  lived,  are  still  the 
same,  but  I  am  not  the  same.  Are  you  such 
a  sneak  and  a  bol,  says  the  natural  man,  as 
to  bear  affronts,  and  swallow  them,  and  say 
noih  ing  ?  Can  you  suffer  to  be  so  abused  by 
such  and  such  n  wrong?  Indeed,  says  the 
Christian  again,  I  could  once  have  resented 


I  an  injury,  as  you  or  another  would,  and  had 
somewhat  of  what  you  call  high-hearteded- 
ness,  when  I  was  alive  after  your  fashion  ; 
but  now,  that  humor  is  not  only  something 
cooled,  bnt  it  is  killed  in  me  ;  it  is  cold  dead, 
as  ye  say  ;  and  a  greater  spirit,  I  think,  than 
my  own,  hath  taught  me  another  lesson,  hath 
made  me  both  deaf  and  dumb  that  way,  and 
hath  given  me  a  new  vent,  and  another  lan- 
guage, and  another  party  to  speak  to  on  such 
occasions.  They  that  seek  my  hurt,  says 
David,  speak  mischievous  things,  and  ima- 
gine deceits  all  the  day  long.  What  doth 
he  in  this  case  ?  But  I,  as  a  deaf  man,  heard 
not,  and  I  was  as  a  dumb  man  that  openeth 
not  his  movth.  And  why  ?  For  in  thee,  0 
Lord,  do  I  hope.  Psalm  xxxviii.  12-15.  And 
for  this  deadness  that  you  despise,  I  have 
seen  him  who  died  for  me,  icho,  when  he  was 
reviled,  reviled  not  again. 

This  is  the  true  character  of  a  Christian  ; 
he  is  dead  to  sin.  But,  alas  !  where  is  this 
Christian  to  be  found  ?  And  yet,  thus  is  ev- 
ery one  who  truly  partakes  of  Christ ;  he  is 
dead  to  sin  really.  Hypocrites  have  an  his- 
torical kind  of  death  like  this,  as  players  in 
tragedies.  Tliose  players  have  loose  bags 
of  blood  that  receive  the  wound :  so  the 
hyi)ocrite  in  some  externals,  and  it  may  be, 
in  that  which  is  as  near  him  as  any  outward 
thing,  his  purse,  may  suffer  some  bloodshed 
of  that  for  Christ.  But  this  death  to  sin  is 
not  a  swooning  fit,  that  one  may  recover  out 
of  again  :  the  apostle,  Rom.  vi.  4,  adds,  that 
the  believer  is  buried  with  Christ. 

But  this  is  an  unj)l('asant  subject,  to  talk 
thus  of  death  and  burial.  The  very  name 
of  death,  in  the  softest  sense  it  can  have, 
makes  a  sour,  melancholy  discourse.  It  is  so 
indeed,  if  you  take  it  alone,  if  there  were 
not,  for  the  life  that  is  lost,  a  far  better  one 
immediately  following  ;  but  so  it  is  here  ;  liv- 
ing vnto  ri gliteousness  iucceeils  dying  to  sin. 

That  which  makes  natural  death  so  af- 
frightful,  the  King  of  terrors,  as  Job  calls  it, 
ch.  xvii.  14,  is  mainly  this  faint  belief  and 
assurance  of  the  resurrection  and  glory  to 
come  :  and  without  some  lively  apprehen- 
sion of  this,  all  men's  moral  resolutions 
and  discourses  are  too  weak  cordials  against 
this  fear.  They  may  set  ^  good  face  on  it, 
and  sjicak  big,  and  so  cover  the  fear  they 
can  not  cure  ;  but  certainly,  they  are  a  little 
ridiculous  who  would  persuade  men  to  con- 
tent to  die,  by  reasoning  from  the;  necessity 
and  unavoidableness  of  it,  which,  taken  alone, 
rather  may  beget  a  desperate  discontent  than 
a  quiet  compliance.  The  very  weakness  of 
that  argument  is,  that  it  is  too  strong,  durum 
telum.  That  of  company  is  fantastic  ;  it 
may  please  the  imagination,  but  satisfies  not 
the  judgment.  Nor  are  the  miseries  of  life, 
though  an  argument  somewhat  more  proper, 
a  full  persuasive  to  meet  death  without  re- 
luctance:  the  oldest,  the  most  decrepit,  and 
most  diseased  persons,  yet  naturally  fall  not 
out  with  life,  b     '.:<tjl''  have  a  mind  to  i' 


196 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  II. 


still  ;  and  the  very  truth  is  this,  the  worst 
cottage  any  one  ihvells  in,  he  is  loath  to  50 
out  of  til!  lie  knows  of  a  hetter.  And  the 
reason  why  that  which  is  so  hideous  to  oth- 
ers, was  so  sweet  to  martyrs  (Heb.  xi.  35), 
and  otlier  godly  men  who  have  heanily  em- 
braced death,  and  welcomed  it  though  in 
very  terrible  sliaiies,  was,  because  they  had 
firm  assurance  of  immortality  bevond  it. 
The  ugly  death's  head,  when  the  light  of 
glory  sliines  through  the  holes  of  it.  is  comeiy 
and  lovely.  To  look  ui)on  death  as  eterni- 
ty's birth-day,  is  that  wliich  makes  it  not 
only  tolerable,  but  amiable.  Hic  dies  pns- 
tremus,  ceterni  natal  is  est,  is  the  word  I  ad- 
mire more  than  any  other  that  ever  drop- 
ped from  a  heathen. 

Thus  here,  the  strongest  inducement  to 
this  death,  is  the  true  notion  and  contempla- 
tion of  this  life  unto  which  it  transfers  us. 
It  is  most  necessary  to  represent  this,  for  a 
natural  man  hath  as  great  an  aversion  every 
whit  from  this  figfarative  death,  this  dyins^to 
sin,  as  from  natural  death  ;  and  there  is  the 
more  necessity  of  persuading  him  to  this,  be- 
cause his  consent  ts  necessary  to  it.  No  man 
dies  this  death  to  sin,  unwillingly,  although 
no  man  is  naturally  willing  to  it.  Much  of 
this  death  consists  in  a  man's  consenting  thus 
to  die  :  and  this  is  not  only  a  lawful,  but  a 
laudable,  yea,  a  necessary  self-mnrder.  Mor- 
tifi/,  Iherefnre.  your  members  which  are  upon 
the  earth,  says  the  apostle.  Col.  iii.  5.  Now 
no  sinner  would  be  content  to  die  to  sin,  if 
that  were  all  ;  but  if  it  be  passing  to  a  more 
excellent  /ifc,  then  he  gaineth,  and  it  were 
a  folly  not  to  seek  thi.s  death.  It  was  a 
strange  power  of  Plato's  discourse  of  the 
soul's  immortality,  that  moved  a  young  man, 
upon  reading  it,  to  throw  himself  into  the 
sea,  that  he  might  leap  through  it  to  that 
immortality  :  but  truly,  were  this  life  of  God, 
this  life  to  riirhtcousncss,  and  the  excellency 
and  delight  of  it  known,  it  would  gain  many 
minds  to  this  death  whereby  we  step  into  it. 

But  there  is  a  necessity  of  a  new  being  as 
the  principle  of  new  action  and  motion.  The 
apostle  says,  M  hile  i/e  served  sin,  ye  werf 
free  from  righteousness,  Rom.  vi.  20  :  so  it 
is,  while  ye  were  alive  to  sin,  ye  were  dead 
to  righteousness.  But  there  is  a  new  breath 
of  life  from  heaven,  breathed  on  the  soul. 
Then  lives  the  soul  indeed,  when  it  is  one 
witn  God,  and  sees  ln^ht  in  his  lisht,  Psalm 
xxxii.  9 — hath  a  spiritual  knowledge  of  him, 
and  therefore  sovereignly  loves  him,  and  de- 
lights in  his  will.  And  this  is  indeed,  to  live 
unlo  righteousness,  which,  in  a  comprehen- 
sive sense,  takes  in  all  the  frame  of  a  Chris- 
Man  life,  and  all  the  duties  of  it  toward  God 
and  toward  men. 

By  this  new  nature,  the  verv  natural  mo- 
tion of  the  soul  so  taken,  is  obedience  to  God  : 
and  walking  in  the  paths  of  righteousness, 
it  can  no  more  live  in  the  habit  and  ways  of 
«in,  than  a  man  can  live  under  water.  Sin 
is  not  the  Christian's  element  ;  it  is  as  much 


too  gross  for  his  renewed  soul,  as  the  wate' 
is  for  his  body  ;  he  may  I'all  into  it,  but  ht 
can  not  breathe  in  it;  can  not  take  delight, 
and  continue  to  live  in  it.  Bui  his  delight  is 
in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  Psalm  i.  2.  That  is 
the  walk  which  his  soul  refreshes  itself  in 
he  loves  it  entirely,  and  loves  ii  most,  where 
it  most  crosses  the  remainders  of  corruption 
that  are  within  him.  He  bends  the  strength 
of  his  soul  to  please  God  ;  aims  wholly  at 
that  ;  it  takes  up  his  thoughts  early  and  late. 
He  haih  no  other  purpose  in  his  beinsr  and 
living,  than  only  to  honor  his  Lord.  This  is, 
to  live  to  righteousness.  He  doth  not  make 
a  by-work  of  it,  a  study  for  his  spare  hours : 
no,  it  is  his  main  business,  his  all.  In  his 
laiv  doth  he  7ncditate  day  and  night.  This 
life,  like  the  natural  one,  is  seated  in  the 
heart,  and  thence  diffuses  itself  to  the 
whole  man  ;  he  loves  righteousness,  and  re- 
cciveth  the  truth  (as  the  apostle  speaks  )  m  the 
love  of  it.  A  natural  man  may  do  many 
]  things  which,  as  to  their  shell  and  outside, 
are  righteous  ;  but  he  lives  not  to  righteous- 
ness, because  his  heart  is  not  possessed  and 
ruled  by  the  love  of  it.  But  this  life  makes 
I  the  godly  man  delight  to  walk  uprightly  and 
1  to  speak  of  righteousness  ;  his  language  and 
'  ways  carry  the  resemblance  of  his  heart.  I 
!  know  it  is  easiest  to  act  that  part  of  religion 
which  is  in  the  tongue,  but  the  Christian, 
nevertheless,  ought  not  to  be  spiritually 
dumb.  Because  some  birds  are  taught  to 
speak,  men  do  not  for  that  give  it  over,  and 
leave  off  to  speak.  The  mouth  of  the  righte- 
ous spcaketh  wisdom,  and  his  tongue  talkelh 
of  judgment.  And  his  feet  strive  to  keep 
pace  with  his  tongue,  which  gives  evidence 
of  its  unfeignedness  ;  none  of  his  steps  shall 
slide,  or>  he  shall  not  stagger  in  his  steps. 
But  that  which  is  betwixt  these,  is  the  com- 
mon spring  of  both  ;  the  law  of  God  is  in 
his  heart.  See  Psalm  xxxvii.  30,  31  ;  and 
thence,  as  Solomon  says,  are  the  issues  of  his 
life,  Prov.  iv.  3.  That  law  in  his  heart,  is 
the  principle  of  this  living  to  righteousness. 

2.  Th'^.  second  thing  here,  is,  that  it  was 
the  design  ol  the  sulferii^gs  and  death  of 
Christ,  to  produce  in  us  this  death  and  life  : 
He  bare  sin,  and  died  for  it,  that  we  might 
die  to  it. 

Out  of  some  conviction  of  the  consequence 
of  sin,  many  have  a  confused  desire  to  be 
justified,  to  have  sin  pardoned,  who  look  no 
farther  :  they  think  not  on  the  importance 
and  necessity  of  sanctification,  the  nature 
whereof  is  expressed  by  this  dying  to  sin,  and 
living  to  righteousness. 

But  here  we  see  that  sanctification  is  neces- 
sary as  inseparably  connected  with  jusiifica-" 
tion,  not  onlv  as  its  companion,  but  as  its  end. 
which,  in  some  sort,  raises  it  above  the  other. 
We  see  that  it  was  the  thing  which  God  eyed 
and  intended,  in  taking  away  the  guiltiness 
of  sin,  that  we  might  be  renewed  and  sancti- 
fied. If  we  compare  them  in  point  of  time, 
looking  backward,  holiness  was  always  neces- 


Ver  24.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


197 


sary  unto  happiness,  but  satisfying  for  sin, 
and  the  pardon  of  it,  were  made  necessary  by 
sin  :  or,  if  we  look  forward,  the  estate  we  are 
appointed  to,  and  for  which  we  are  delivered 
from  wrath,  is  an  estate  of  perfect  holiness. 
When  we  reflect  upon  thaf  sjreat  work  of  re- 
oemption,  we  see  it  aimea  at  there,  redeemed 
to  be  holy,  Eph.  v.  25,  26  ;  Tit.  ii.  14.  And 
if  we  go  yet  higher,  to  the  very  spring,  the 
decree  of  election,  with  regard  to  that  it  is 
said,  Eph.  i.  14,  Chosen  before,  that  v:e  should 
be  holy.  And  the  end  shall  suit  the  design : 
Nothing  shall  enter  intc  the  new  Jerusalem 
that  is  defiled,  or  unholy  ;  nothing  but  perfect 
purity  is  there  ;  not  a  spot  of  sinful  polluiion, 
not  a  wrinkle  of  the  old  man.  For  this  end 
was  that  great  work  undertaken  by  the  Son 
of  God,  that  he  might  frame  out  of  polluted 
mankind  a  new  and  holy  generation  to  his 
Father,  who  might  compass  his  throne  in  the 
life  of  glory,  and  give  him  pure  praises,  and 
behold  his  face  in  that  eternity.  INow,  for 
this  end  it  was  needful,  according  to  the  all- 
wise  purpose  of  the  Faiher,  that  the  guilti- 
ness of  sin  and  sentence  of  death  should  be 
once  removed  :  and  thus,  the  burden  of  ihat 
lay  upon  Christ's  shoulders  on  the  cross. 
That  done,  it  is  further  necessary,  that  souls 
so  delivered  be  likewise  purified  and  renew- 
ed, for  they  are  designed  for  perfection  of 
holiness  in  the  end,  and  it  must  begin  here. 

Yet  it  is  not  possible  to  persuade  men  of 
this,  that  Christ  had  this  in  this  eye  and  pur- 
pose when  he  was  lifted  up  upon  the  cross, 
and  looked  upon  the  whole  cojnpany  of  ihose 
his  Faiher  had  given  him  tosave,  that  he  would 
redeem  them  to  be  a  number  of  holy  persons. 
We  would  be  redeemed  :  who  is  there  that 
Would  not  ?  But  Christ  would  have  his  re- 
deemed ones  holy  ;  and  they  who  are  not 
true  to  this  his  end,  but  cross  and  oppose  him 
in  it,  may  hear  of  redemption  long  and  often, 
but  little  to  their  comfort.  Are  you  resolved 
still  to  abuse  and  delude  yourselves?  Well, 
whether  you  will  believe  it  or  not,  this  is 
once  more  told  you:  there  is  unspeakable 
comfort  in  the  death  of  Christ,  but  it  belongs 
only  to  those  who  are  dead  to  sm,  and  alire  j 
to  righteousness.  This  circle  shuts  out  the 
impenitent  world  ;  there  it  closes,  and  can 
not  be  broken  through  ;  but  all  who  are  peni- 
tent, are  by  their  effectual  calling  lifted  into 
it,  translated  from  that  accursed  condition 
wherein  they  were.  So  then,  if  you  will  live  ' 
in  your  sins,  you  may  ;  but  then,  resolve  | 
withal  to  bear  them  yourselves,  for  Christ,  i 
in  his  bearing  of  sin,  meant  the  benefit  of 
none,  but  such  as  in  due  time  are  thus  dead, 
ind  thus  alive  with  him. 

3.  But  then,  in  the  third  place,  Christ's  suf- 
terings  and  death  effect  all  this,    fl.]  As  tlie 
exemplary  cause,  th(!  lively  contemplation  of  ] 
Christ  crucified,  in  the  most  powerful  of  all  i 
thoughts,  to  separate  the  heart  and  sin.    But  ' 
[2,]  besides  this  example,  working  as  a  moral 
sause,  Christ  is  the  ell'ective  natural  cause  of 
this  death  and  life  ;  for  he  is  one  with  the 


j  believer,  and  there  is  a  real  influence  of  his 
death  and  life  into  their  souls.  This  mysteri- 
ous union  of  Christ  and  the  believer,  is  that 
wheredn  both  their  justification  and  sanctiti- 
cation,  the  whole  frame  of  their  salvation 
!  and  happiness,  depends.  And  in  this  particu. 
lar  view  the  apostle  still  insists  on  it,  speak- 
ing of  Christ  and  believers  as  one  in  his  death 
and  resurrection,  cruc/^e<f  rrith  him,  dead  icitf, 
him,  buried  with  him,  and  risen  with  him 
Rom.  vi.  4,  &c.  Being  arisen  he  applies  his 
death  to  those  he  died  for,  and  by  it  kills  the 
life  of  sin  in  them,  and  so  is  avenged  on  it 
for  its  being  the  cause  of  his  death  :  according 
to  that  expression  of  the  Psalmist,  Raise  me 
up,  that  I  may  requite  them.  Psalm,  xli.  10. 
Christ  infuses,  and  then  actuates  and  stirs  up 
tliat  faith  and  love  in  them,  by  which  they 
are  united  to  him  ;  and  these  work  powerfully 
in  producing  this. 

[3.]  Faith  looks  so  steadfastly  on  its  suffer- 
in<j  Savior,  that  as  they  say,  Intellectus  fit 
illud  f/uod  intelligit,  the  mind  becomes  that 
which  it  contemplates.  It  makes  the  soul 
like  him,  assimilates  and  conforms  it  to  his 
death,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  Phil.  iii.  10. 
That  which  papists  fabuloii^y  say  of  some 
of  their  saints,  that  they  received  the  im- 
pression of  the  wounds  of  Christ  in  their  body, 
IS  true,  in  a  spiritual  sense,  of  the  soul  of  every 
one  that  is  indeed  a  saint  and  a  believer  :  it 
takes  the  very  print  of  his  death,  by  behold- 
ing him,  and  die<  to  sm  ;  and  then  takes  that 
of  his  rising  again,  and  Irvcs  to  righteousness. 
As  it  applies  it  to  justify,  so  to  mortify,  draw- 
ing virtue  from  it.  Thus  said  one,  "  Christ 
aimed  at  this  in  all  those  sufferings  which, 
with  so  much  love,  he  went  through  :  and 
shall  I  disappoint  him,  and  not  serve  his  end  ?" 

[4.]  That  iitlier  powerful  irrace  of  love  joins 
in  this  work  with  faith  :  for  love  desires  noth- 
ing more  than  likeness  and  conformity  ; 
though  it  be  a  painful  resemblance,  so  much 
the  better  and  filter  to  testify  love.  There- 
fore it  will  have  the  soul  die  with  him  who 
died  for  it,  and  the  very  same  kind  of  death  : 
/  am  crucified  with  Christ,  says  the  great 
apostle.  Gal.  ii.  20.  The  love  of  Christ  in 
the  soul  takes  the  very  nails  that  fastened 
him  to  the  cross,  and  crucifies  the  soul  to  the 
world,  and  sin.  Love  is  strong  as  death, 
particularly  in  this.  The  strongest  and  live- 
liest liody,  when  d(,>ath  seizes  it,  must  yield, 
and  that  become  motionless,  which  was  so 
vigorous  before:  thus  the  soul  that  is  most 
active  and  unwearied  in  sin,  when  this  love  sei- 
zes it,  is  killed  to  sin  ;  and  as  death  separates  a 
man  from  his  dearest  friends  and  society,  this 
love  breaks  all  its  ties  and  friendship  with 
sin.  Generally,  as  Plato  hath  it,  love  takes 
away  one's  living  in  one's  self,  and  transfers 
it  into  the  party  loved  ;  but  the  divine  love 
of  Christ  doth  it  in  the  truest  and  highest 
manner. 

Ih/w/iose  stripes  ye  were  henled.'\  The  mis- 
ery of  fallen  man,  and  the  mercy  of  his  de- 
liverance, are  both  of  them  such  a  depth, 


198 


A  COxVIMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  h 


thai  no  one  expression,  yea,  no  variety  of  ex- 
pressions added  one  to  another,  can  f'athuni 
liiem.  Here  we  liave  divers  very  sigiiiticaiit 
ont  s.  1.  Tlie  guiltinessoCsinaban  inlolerable 
burden,  pressing  the  soul  and  sinking  it,  and 
tliai  transferred  and  hiid  on  a  stronger  back  : 
III  bare.  Then,  2.  Tlie  same  wretchedness, 
under  tlie  notion  oi"  a  strange  disease,  by  ail 
other  means  incurable,  hrulid  hii  his  slnpes. 
And,  o.  1 1  is  again  represented  by  the  forlorn 
condition  of  a  sheep  wandering,  and  our  sal- 
vati(jn  to  be  found  only  in  the  love  and  wis- 
dom of  our  great  Slupherd.  And  all  tliese 
are  borrowed  from  that  sweet  and  clear  proph- 
ecy in  the  tifiy-third  cha[)ter  of  Isaiah. 

The  polluted  nature  of  man  is  no  oilier  than 
a  bundle  of  des[)erale  diseases  :  he  is  spiritu- 
ally dead,  as  the  Scriptures  olien  leach.  Now 
this  contradicts  not,  nor  at  all  lessens  the 
matter  ;  but  only  because  this  misery,  justly 
called  death,  exists  in  a  subject  animated 
with  a  natural  life,  therefore,  so  c'onsidered, 
it  may  bear  the  name  and  sense  of  sickness, 
or  wounds  :  and  therefore  it  is  gross  mispris- 
ion— they  are  as  much  out  in  their  argument 
as  in  their  conclusion,  who  would  extract, 
out  of  these  expressions,  any  evidence  that 
there  are  remains  of  s|)iriiual  life,  or  good,  in 
our  corrupted  nature.  But  they  are  not  wor- 
thy the  contest,  thouirh  vain  heads  think  to 
argue  themselves  into  life,  and  are  seeking 
that  lil'e,  by  logic,  in  miserable  nature,  which 
they  should  seek,  by  faith,  in  Jesus  Christ, 
namely,  in  these  his  stripes,  by  which  we  arc 
healed. 

It  were  a  large  task  to  name  our  spiritual 
maladies  ;  how  much  more,  severally  to  un- 
fold their  uatuies  !  Such  a  multitude  of  cor- 
ru)it  lalse  principles  in  the  mind,  which,  as 
gangrenes,  do  spread  themselves  through  the 
soul,  and  defile  the  whole  man  ;  that  total 
gross  blindness  and  unbelief  in  s[)iritual 
things,  and  that  stone  of  the  heart,  hardness 
and  impenitency  :  lethargies  of  senselessness 
and  security  ;  and  then  (for  there  be  such 
complications  of  spiritual  diseases  in  us,  as  in 
naturals  are  altogether  impose  ible)  such  burn- 
ing fevers  of  inordinate  affections  and  desires, 
of  lust,  and  malice,  and  envy,  such  racking 
and  tormenting  cares  of  covetousness,  and 
fccdiiiir  on  earth  and  ashes  (as  the  prophet 
speaks  in  another  case,  Isa.  xliv.  20),accord- 
m<!  to  the  dej)raved  ai)petite  that  accompa- 
nies some  diseases  ;  such  tumors  of  pride  and 
self-conceit,  that  break  forth,  as  filthy  botch- 
es, in  men's  words  and  carriage  one  with  an- 
other !  In  a  word,  what  a  wonderful  disorder 
must  needs  be  in  the  natural  soul,  by  the  fre- 
quent interchanges  and  fight  of  contrary  pas- 
sions within  it  !  And,  besides  ail  these,  how 
many  deadly  wounds  do  we  receive  from  with- 
out, by  the  lemptalions  of  Satan  and  the 
world  !  We  entertain  them,  and  by  weapons 
with  which  they  furnish  us,  we  willingly 
wound  ourselves  ;  as  the  apostle  says  of  them 
tvhn  will  be  rich,  they  fall  into  divers  snares 
and    noisome  lusts,  and  pierce  themselves 


throuifh  with  many  sorrows.  I  Timothy  vi 
9,  10.' 

Did  we  see  it,  no  infirmary  or  hospital  was 
ever  so  full  of  loathsome  and  miserable  spec 
tacles,  as,  in  a  sj)irituai  sense,  our  wretched 
nature  is  in  any  one  of  us  apart:  how  much 
more  when  multitudes  of  us  are  met  together  ' 
But  our  evils  are  hid  from  us,  and  we  jierish 
miserably  in  a  dream  of  happiness  I  This 
makes  up  and  comi)letes  our  wretchedness, 
that  we  feel  it  not  with  our  other  diseases  , 
and  this  makes  it  worse  still.  This  was  the 
church's  disease,  Rev.  iii.  17  :  Thou  sayest, 
I  am  rich,  and  knowcst  not  that  thou  art  poor, 
&c.  We  are  usually  full  of  complaints  of  tri- 
fling griefs  which  are  of  small  moment,  and 
think  not  on,  nor  feel  our  dangerous  mala- 
dies :  as  he  who  showed  a  physician  his  sore 
finger,  but  the  ph\ sician  told  him,  he  had  more 
need  to  think  on  the  cure  of  a  dangerous  im- 
posthume  within  him,  which  he  perceived  by 
looking  at  him,  though  himself  did  not  feel  it. 

In  dangerous  maladies  or  wounds,  there  be 
these  evils:  a  tendency  to  deatli,  and,  with 
that,  the  ai)prehension  of  the  terror  and  fear 
of  it,  and  the  present  distemper  of  the  body- 
So,  there  arc  in  sin,  1.  The  guiltiness  of  sin 
binding  over  the  soul  to  death,  the  most 
frightful,  eternal  death  ;  2.  The  terror  of  con- 
science in  the  api)rehension  of  that  death,  or 
the  wrath  that  is  the  consequence  and  end  of 
sin  ;  3.  The  raging  and  prevailing  power  of 
sin,  which  is  the  ill  habitude  and  distemper 
of  the  soul.  But  these  stripes,  and  that  blood 
which  issued  from  them,  are  a  sound  cure. 
Applied  unto  the  S(.ul,  they  take  away  the 
guiltiness  of  sin,  and  death  deserved,  and  free 
us  from  our  engagement  to  those  everlasting 
scourgings  and  lashes  of  the  wrath  of  God  ; 
and  they  are  likewise  the  only  cure  of  tliose 
present  terrors  and  pangs  of  conscience,  ari- 
sing from  the  sense  of  that  wraih  and  sen- 
tence of  death  upon  the  soul.  Our  inicjuities 
which  met  on  Him,  laid  open  to  the  rod  that 
back  which  in  itself  was  free.  Those  hands 
which  never  wrought  iniquity',  and  those  feet 
which  never  declined  from  the  way  of  righ- 
teousness, yet,  for  our  works  and  wanderings, 
were  pierced  ;  and  that  tongue  dropped  with 
vinegar  and  gall  on  the  cross,  which  never 
spoke  a  guileful  nor  sinful  word.  The  blood 
of  those  stripes  is  that  balm  issuing  from  that 
Tree  of  Life  so  pierced,  which  can  alone  give 
ease  to  the  conscience,  and  heal  the  wounds 
of  it:  thev  deliver  from  the  power  of  sin, 
working  by  their  influence  a  loathing  of  sin, 
which  was  the  cause  of  them  ;  they  cleanse 
out  the  vicious  humors  (jf  our  corrujjt  nature, 
by  opening  that  issue  of  repentance:  They 
shall  look  on  him,  and  mourn  over  him  whom 
they  have  pierced,  Zech.  xii.  10. 

Now,  to  the  end  it  may  thus  cure,  it  musi 
be  applied  :  it  is  the  only  receipt,  but,  in  order 
to  heal,  it  must  be  received.  The  most  sov- 
ereign medicines  cure  not  in  any  other  man 
ner,  and  therefore,  still  their  first  letter  is  R 
Recipe,  lake  such  a  thing. 


Ver.  25.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


199 


Tliis  is  amoti"'  the  wonders  of  that  ^reat  I 
work,  that  the  sovereiija  Lord  of  all,  who  ! 
binds  and  looses  at  his  pleasure  the  influences 
of  hearen,  and  the  power  and  workins^s  of  all 
the  creatures,  would  himself  in  our  flesh  be  i 
tnus  bound,  the  only  Son  bound  as  a  slave,  ' 
and  scour£;ed  as  a  malefactor  !    And  his  wil- 
ling obedience  made  this  an  acceptable  and 
expiating  sacrifice,  among  the  rest  of  his  suf- 
ferings :   He  gave  his  back  to  the  smiters,  ' 
Isa.  1.  6.  j 

Now,  it  can  not  be  that  any  one  who  is 
thus  healed,  reflecting  upon  this  cure,  can 
again  take  any  constant  delight  in  sin.  It  is  ! 
impossiljle  so  far  to  forget  both  the  grief  it  \ 
bred  themselves,  and  that  which  it  cost  their 
Lord,  as  to  make  a  new  agreement  with  it,  to 
live  in  the  pleasure  of  it. 

His  stripes.]  Turn  your  thoughts,  every 
one  of  you,  to  consider  this  :  you  that  are  not 
healed,  that  you  may  be  healed  ;  and  you 
that  are,  apply  it  still  to  perfect  the  cure  in 
that  part  wherein  it  is  gradual  and  not  com- 
plete :  and  tor  the  ease  you  have  found,  bless 
and  love  Him  who  endured  so  much  uneasi- 
ness to  that  end.  There  is  a  sweet  mixture 
of  sorrow  and  joy  in  contemplating  these 
stripes  ;  sorrow,  surely,  by  sympathy,  that 
they  were  /ns  stripes,  and  joy,  that  they  were 
our  healing.  Christians  are  too  little  mind- 
ful and  sensible  of  this,  and,  it  may  be,  are 
somewhat  guilty  of  that  with  which  Ei)hraim 
is  charged,  Hos.  xi.  3  :  They  knew  not  that  I 
healed  them. 

Vf.R.  25.  For  ye  were  as  sheep  going  astray,  but  are 
now  returned  lo  the  shejiherd  and  bishop  of  your 
souls. 

In  these  few  words,  we  have  a  brief  and 
yet  clear  representaliixi  of  the  wretchedness 
of  our  natural  conditi(jn,  and  of  our  happiness 
in  Christ.  The  resemblance  is  borrowed  from 
the  same  place  in  the  prophet  Isaiah,  chap, 
liii.  6. 

Not  to  press  the  comparison,  or,  as  it  is  too 
usual  with  commentators,  to  strain  it  beyond 
the  purpose,  in  reference  to  our  lost  estate, 
this  is  all,  or  the  main  circumstance  wherein 
the  reseml)laMce  with  sheep  holds — our  iran- 
t/t'rj«g,  as  forlorn  and  exposed  lo  destruction, 
like  a  sheep  lhat  has  strayed  and  wandered 
fiorn  the  fold.  So  taken,  it  imports,  indeed, 
the  loss  of  a  better  condition,  the  loss  of  the 
safely  and  happiness  of  the  soul,  of  that  good 
which  is  proper  to  it,  as  the  suitable  good  of 
the  brute  creature  here  named,  is,  safe  and 
good  [)asture. 

Tha;  we  may  know  there  is  no  one  exempt 
in  nature  from  the  guiltiness  and  misery  of 
this  Wimdering,  the  j)rophet  is  express  as  to 
the  universality  of  it.  All  we  have  none  astray. 
And  though  the  apostle  here  applies  it  in  par- 
lici;lar  to  his  brethren,  yet  it  falls  not  amiss 
to  any  others.  Ye  tmrr  as  sheep  noin;^'  astray. 
Yea.  the  projihet  there,  to  the  collective  uni- 
versal, adds  a  distributive.  Every  man  to  his 
own  way,  or  a  man  lo  liis  way.    They  agree 


in  this,  that  they  all  wander,  though  they 
differ  in  their  several  wajs.  There  is  an  in- 
bred proneness  to  stray  in  them  all,  more 
than  in  sheep,  which  are  creatures  naturally 
wandering,  for  each  man  hath  his  own  way. 

And  this  is  our  folly,  lhat  we  flatter  our- 
selves bv  comparison,  and  every  one  is  pleased 
with  himself  because  he  is  free  from  some 
wanderings  of  others  ;  not  considering  that 
he  is  a  wanderer  too,  though  in  another  way  ; 
he  hath  his  way,  as  those  he  looks  on  have 
theirs.  And  as  men  agree  in  wandering, 
though  they  differ  in  their  way,  so  those  ways 
agree  in  this,  that  they  lead  unto  misery,  and 
shall  end  in  that.  Think  you  ihere  is  no  way 
to  hell,  but  the  way  to  open  profaneness? 
Yes,  surely,  many  a  way  that  seems  smooth 
and  clean  in  a  man's  own  '  eyes,  and  yet  will 
end  in  condemnation'.  Truth  is  but  one,  error 
endless  and  interminable.  As  we  say  of  nat- 
ural life  and  death,  so  may  we  say  in  respect 
of  spiritual  the  way  to  life  is  one,  but  there 
are  many  out  of  it.  Lelh;  mille  adilvs.  Each 
one  hath  not  opportunity  nor  ability  for  every 
sin,  or  every  degree  of  sin,  but  each  sin  after 
his  own  mode  and  power.  Isa.  xl.  20. 

Thy  tongue,  it  may  be,  wanders  not  in  the 
common  path-road  of  oaths  and  curses,  yet  it 
wanders  in  secret  calumnies,  in  detraction 
and  defaming  of  others,  though  so  conveye;' 
as  it  scarcely  appears  ;  or,  if  thou  speak  them 
not,  yet  thou  art  pleased  to  hear  them.  It 
wanders,  in  trifling  away  the  precious  hours 
of  irrecoverable  lime,  with  vain  unprolitable 
babblings  in  thy  converse  ;  or,  if  thou  an 
much  alone,  or  in  company  much  silent,  yet, 
is  not  thy  foolish  uiind  still  hunting  vanity, 
following  this  self  pleasing  design  or  the  oth- 
er, atui  selduTH,  and  very  slightly,  if  at  all, 
conversant  with  God  and  the  thingsof  heaven, 
which,  although  they  alone  have  the  truest 
and  the  highest  pleasure  in  them,  yet  to  thy 
carnal  mind  are  tasteless  and  unsavory? 
There  is  scarcely  anything  so  light  and  child- 
ish, that  thou  will  not  more  willingly  and 
liberally  bestow  thy  retired  thouirhts  tm,  than 
upon  those  excellent,  incomparable  delights. 
Oh  !  the  foolish  heart  of  man  I  when  it  may 
seem  deep  and  serious,  how  often  is  it  at 
Domitian's  exercise  in  his  study — catching 
flies ! 

Men  account  little  of  the  wanderings  of 
their  hearts,  and  yet  truly  that  is  most  of  all 
to  be  considered  ;  for  from  thence  are  the  is- 
sues of  life,  Prov.  iv.  23.  It  is  the  heart  that 
hath  forgotten  God,  and  is  roving  afier  vanity : 
this  causes  all  the  errors  of  men's  words  and 
•actions.  A  wandering  heart  makes  wander- 
ing eyes,  feet,  and  tongue  ;  it  is  the  leading 
wanderer  that  misleads  all  the  rest.  And  as 
we  are  here  called  straying  shcef),  so,  within 
the  heart  iiself  of  each  of  us,  there  is  as  it 
were  a  whole  wandering  flock,  a  multitude 
of  fictions  (Gen.  viii.  21),  ungodly  devices. 
The  word  that  sistiifies  the  evil  of  tiie 
thought  in  Hebrew,  here,  V  from  P"'  is  taken 
from  that  which  signifies  feeding  of  a  flock. 


»00 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  Ij. 


und  it  likewise  signifies  wanvU'ring :  and  so 
these  nieei  in  our  tiioughls,  they  are  a  <jreat 
liock  and  a  waiiderini;  floek.  Tliis  is  the  nat- 
ural IVeeiiuni  of  our  liiou<;hts:  lliey  are  tree 
'.o  waiuler  tVoniGod  and  iieaven,  and  to  carry 
us  to  perdition.  And  we  are  i;uiliy  of  many 
pollutions  this  -way,  wiiieli  we  never  acted. 
]\Ien  are  less  sensible  of  lieart-wickediiess,  if 
it  break  not  forth;  but  the  heart  is  far  more 
active  in  sin  than  any  of  the  senses,  or  the 
whole  body.  The  motion  of  spirits  is  far 
swifter  than  that  of  bodies.  The  mind  can 
make  a  greater  progress  in  any  of  these  wan- 
derings in  one  hour,  than  the  ijody  is  able  to 
follow  in  many  days. 

When  the  body  is  tied  to  attendance  in  the 
exercises  wherein  we  are  employed,  yet  know 
you  not — it  is  so  much  the  worse  if  you  do 
not  know,  and  feel  it,  and  bewail  it — know 
you  not,  I  say,  that  the  heart  can  take  its  lib- 
el :y,  and  leave  you  nothing  but  a  carcass? 
T'lis  the  unrenewed  heart  doth  continually. 
They  come  and  sit  before  mens  my  pcoph.  Iiul 
tleir  henrl  is  after  their  coretuusness.  Ezek. 
r  cxiii.  31.  It  hath  another  way  to  go,  anoth- 
e\  God  to  wait  on. 

But  are  now  returned.]  Whatsoever  are 
the  several  ways  of  our  straying,  all  our  wan- 
dering originates  in  the  aversion  of  the  heart 
from  God,  whence  of  necessity  follows  a  con- 
tinual unsetiledness  and  disquiet.  The  mind, 
as  a  wave  of  the  sea,  tossed  to  and  fro  with 
the  tvmd,  tumbles  from  one  sin  and  vanity  to 
another,  and  finds  no  rest ;  or,  as  a  sick  per- 
son tosses  from  one  side  to  another,  and  from 
one  part  of  his  bed  to  another,  and  perhaps 
changes  his  bed,  in  hope  of  ease,  but  still  it 
is  further  oil',  thus  is  the  soul  in  all  its  wan- 
derings. But  shift  ai\d  change  as  it  will,  no 
rest  shall  it  find  until  it  come  to  this  return- 
ing. Jer.  ii.  3(3 :  Why  gaddest  thou  about  so 
much  to  change  thy  way?  Thou  shall  be 
ashamed  of  Es^ypt  as  thou  loast  of  Assyria  ! 
Nothing  but  sorrow  and  shame,  till  you 
change  all  those  ways  for  this  one.  Return, 
O  Israel,  says  the  Lord,  if  thou  toilt  return, 
ri  turn  unto  me.  It  is  not  changing  one  of 
your  own  Avays  for  another,  that  will  profit 
y  ;u  ;  but  in  returning  to  me  is  your  salvation. 

Seeing  Wf  find  in  our  own  ex[)erience,  be- 
sides the  woful  end  of  our  waiuli  rings,  the 
present  per[)lexity  and  disquiet  of  them,  why 
are  we  not  persuaded  to  this,  lo  give  up  with 
them  all  ?  Return  unto  thy  rest,  (>  my  soul, 
says  David,  Psalm  cxvi.  7  ;  this  were  our 
wisdom. 

But  is  not  that  God  in  whom  we  expect 
rest,  incensed  against  us  for  our  wandering? 
and  is  he  not,  being  offended,  a  consuming 
fire?  True,  but  this  is  the  way  to  find  ac- 
ceptance and  peace,  and  satisfying  comforts 
in  returninfr:  come  first  to  this  Shepherd  of 
Fouls,  Jesus  Christ,  and  by  him,  come  unto 
the  Father.  No  man  comes  unto  the  Father, 
says  he,  but  btj  me.  This  is  the  via  re^iu, 
the  high  and  right  way  of  returning  unto 
God.    John  x.  11:  /  am  the  good  shepherd  ; 


and  ver.  9,  /  am  the  door:  by  me  if  any  man 
enter  in,  he  shall  be  saved.  But  if  he  miss 
this  door,  he  shall  miss  salvation  too.  Ye 
are  returned,  says  the  apostle,  unto  the  shep- 
herd and  bishop  of  your  souls. 

There  be  three  things  necessary  to  restore 
us  to  our  happiness,  whence  we  have  departed 
in  our  wanderings  :  1.  To  take  away  the 
guiltiness  of  those  former  wanderings.  2.  To 
reduce  us  into  the  way  again.  3.  To  keep 
and  lead  us  in  it. 

!  Now  all  these  are  performable  only  by  this 
great  shepherd.  1.  He  did  satisfy  for  the  of- 
fence of  our  wanderings,  and  so  remove  our 
guiltiness.  He  himself,  the  shepherd,  became 

'  a  sacrifice  for  his  flock,  a  sheep,  or  spotless 
lamb.    So,  Isa.  liii.  6,  We  like  sheep  have 

i  gone  astray  ;  and  immediately  after  the  men- 
tion of  our  straying,  it  is  added.  The  Lord 
laid,  or,  7nade  meet  on  him,  the  inu/nili/  of  us 
all,  of  all  our  strayings  ;  and  ver.  7,  lie  is 
brought  as  a  lamb  lo  the  slav ghter.  He  who 
is  our  sliepherd,  the  same  is  the  latiibfor  sac- 
rifice. So  our  apostle,  ch.  i..  We  are  redeem- 
ed, not  by  stiver  and  gold,  hut  by  the  precious 
blood  of  Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without  blemish 
and  without  spot.  So,  John  x.  11,  He  is  the 
good  shepherd  that  lays  down  his  life  for  his 
sheep.  Men  think  not  on  this;  many  of  them 
who  have  some  thoughts  of  returning  and 
amendment,  think  not  that  there  is  a  satisfac 
tion  due  for  past  wanderings  ;  and  therefore 
they  pasjs  by  Christ,  and  consider  not  the  ne- 
cessity of  returning  to  him,  and  by  him  to  the 
Father. 

2.  He  brings  them  back  into  the  way  of 
life:  Ye  are  returned.  But  think  not  it  is 
by  their  own  knowledge  and  skill,  that  they 
discover  their  error,  and  find  out  the  right 
path,  or  that  by'  their  own  strength  they  re- 
turn into  it.  No,  if  we  would  contest  gram- 
maticisms,  the  word  here,  is  passive;  ye  are 
returned,  reduced,  or  caused  to  return.  But 
this  truth  hangs  not  on  so  weak  notions  as 
are  often  used,  either  for  or  against  it.  In 
that  prophecy,  Ezek.  xxxiv.  16,  God  says,  1 
will  seek  and  bring  again,  &c.  And,  Psalm 
xxiii.  3,  David  says,  he  restoreth  or  rctnrneth 
my  soul.  And  that  this  is  the  work  of  this 
shepherd,  the  Lord  Jesus  God-man,  is  clearly 
and  frequently  taught  in  the  gospel.  He 
came  for  this  very  end  :  it  was  his  errand  and 
business  in  the  world,  to  seek  and  to  save  that 
whichwas  lost.  And  thus  it  is  represented  in 
the  parable,  Luke  xv.  4,  5  ;  he  goes  after 
that  xohtch  was  lost  until  he  find  it,  and  then, 
having  found  it,  doth  not  only  show  it  the 
way,  and  say  to  it,  return,  and  so  leave  it  to 
come  after,  but  he  lays  it  on  his  skoulder,  and 
brings  it  home  ;  and  notwithstanding  all  his 
pains,  instead  of  con)[)laining  against  it  for 
wandering,  he  rejoices  in  that  he  bath  found 
and  recovered  it:  he  lays  it  on  his  shoulder 
re  joicing.  And  in  this,  there  is  as  much  of 
the  resemblance  as  in  any  other  thing.  Losi 
man  can  no  more  return  unsought,  than  a 
sheep  that  wandereth,  which  is  observed  of 


Ver.  25.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


201 


all  creatures  to  have  least  of  that  skill.    Men  1 
may  have  sorue  confused  thoughts  of  return- 
ing, but  to  know  the  way  and  to  come,  unless  j 
they  be  sought  out,  tliey  are  unable.    This  is 
David's  suit,  though  acquainted  with  the 
fold,  I  have  gone  astrai/  like  a  lost  sheep  ; 
Lord,  seek  thy  servant.  Psal.  cxix.  ult.  This 
did  our  great  and  good  shej)herd,  through  ' 
those  difficult  ways  he  was  to  pass  for  finding 
us,  wherein  he  not  only  hazarded,  but  really  \ 
laid  down  his  life  :  and  ihose  shoulders  wliicli 
did  bear  the  iniquity  of  our  wanderings,  by 
expiation,  upon  the  same  doth  he  bear  and 
bring  us  back  from  it  by  effectual  conver-  j 
sion. 

3.  He  keeps  and  leads  us  on  in  that  way  ' 
into  which  he  hath  restored  us.  He  leaves  ^ 
us  not  again  to  try  our  own  skill,  whether  we 
can  walk  to  heaven  alone,  being  set  into  the 
path  of  it,  but  he  still  conducts  us  in  it  by  his 
own  hand,  and  that  is  the  cause  of  our  per- 
sisting in  it,  and  attaining  the  blessed  end  of 
it.  He  restoreth  my  soul,  says  the  Psalmist,  i 
Psalm  xxiii.  2 ;  and  that  is  not  all :  he  adds. 
He  leadeth  me  in  the  paths  of  righteousness 
for  hts  name''s  sake.  Those  paths  are  the 
green  pastures  meant,  and  the  still  waters 
that  he  speaks  of.  And  thus  we  may  judge 
whether  we  are  of  his  flock.  Are  we  led  in 
the  paths  of  righteousness?  Do  we  delight 
ourselves  in  him,  and  in  his  ways?  Are  they 
the  projier  refreshment  of  our  souls  ?  Do  we 
find  his  words  sweet  unto  our  taste  ?  Are  we 
taken  with  tiie  green  pastures  in  it,  and  the 
crystal  streams  of  consolations  that  glide 
through  it?  Can  we  discern  /(«  i,o/ce,  and 
does  it  draw  our  hearts,  so  that  we  follow  it? 
John  X.  27. 

The  shepherd  and  liishop.]  It  was  the 
style  of  kings  to  be  called  shepherds,  and  is 
the  dignity  of  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  to 
have  both  these  names.  }3ut  this  great  shep- 
herd and  bishop  is  peculiarly  worthy  of  these 
names,  as  supreme  :  he  alone  is  the  universal 
shepiierd  and  bishop,  and  none  but  an  anti- 
christ, who  makes  hinii^elf  as  Christ,  killing 
and  destroying  the  flock,  will  assume  this 
title  which  belongs  only  to  the  Lord,  the 
great  owner  of  his  flock.  He  himself  is  their 
great  shepherd  and  bishop.  All  sliepherds 
and  bish()]is  who  are  truly  such,  have  their 
function  and  jilace  from  hirn  ;  thev  hold  of 
him,  and  follow  his  rule  and  example,  in 
their  inspection  of  the  flock.  It  were  the 
happiness  of  kingdoms,  if  magistrates  and 
kings  would  set  him,  his  love,  and  meekness, 
and  equity,  be.''ore  their  eyes  in  their  govern- 
ment. And  all  those  who  are  properly  his 
bishops  are  under  especial  obli<;ations  to  study 
this  pattern,  fo  warm  their  affections  to  the 
flock,  and  to  excite  a  tender  care  of  their  sal- 
vation, by  looking  on  this  arch-hishop  and 
arUt-sh'pherd  (as  our  apostle  calls  him),  and 
in  their  measure,  to  follow  his  footsteps, 
spending  their  life  and  strength  in  seeking: 
the  good  of  his  sheep,  coiisideriiiij  that  they 
are  subordinately  shepherds  of  souls,  that  is, 
•  26 


in  dispensing  spiritual  things ;  so  far  the  title 
is  communicable. 

The  Lord  Jesus  is  supremely  and  singularly 
such ;  they,  under  him,  are  shepherds  of 
souls,  because  their  diligence  concerns  the 
soul,  which  excludes  not  the  body  in  spiritual 
respects,  as  it  is  capable  of  things  spiritual 
and  eternal,  by  its  union  with  the  soul.  But 
Christ  is  sovereign  shepherd  of  souls  above 
all,  and  singular,  in  that  he  not  only  teaches 
them  the  doctrine  of  salvation,  but  purchased 
salvation  for  them,  and  inasmuch  as  he 
reaches  the  soul  powerfully,  which  ministers 
by  their  own  power  can  not  do.  He  lays 
hold  on  it,  and  restores,  and  leads  it,  and 
causes  it  to  walk  in  his  ways.  In  this  sense 
it  agrees  to  him  alone,  as  supreme,  iu  the  in- 
communicable sense. 

And  from  his  guidance,  power,  and  love, 
flows  all  the  comfort  of  his  flock.  When 
they  consider  their  own  folly  and  weakness, 
this  alone  gives  them  confidence,  that  his 
hand  guides  them  ;  and  they  believe  in  his 
strength  far  surpassing  that  of  the  roaring 
lion  (John  x.  28-30),  his  wisdom,  in  knowing 
their  particular  state  and  their  weakness,  and 
his  tender  love  in  pitying  them,  and  apjilying 
himself  to  it.  Other  sheplierds,  even  faitbful 
ones,  may  mistake  them,  and  not  know  the 
way  of  leading  them  in  some  i)articulars,  and 
they  may  be  sometimes  wanting  in  that  ten- 
der affection  that  they  owe  ;  or,  if  they  have 
that,  yet  they  are  not  able  to  bear  them  up, 
and  support  them  powerfully  ;  hut  this  shep- 
herd is  perfect  in  all  these  respects.  Is.  xl.  11. 
The  youn<j  and  weak  Christian,  or  the  elder 
at  weak  times,  when  they  are  big  and  heavy 
with  some  inward  exercise  bf  mind,  which 
shall  bring  forth  advantage  and  peace  to  them 
afterward,  them  he  leads  <;enlly,  and  uses 
them  with  the  tenderness  that  their  weak- 
ness requires. 

And,  in  the  general,  he  provides  Ibr  his 
flock,  and  heals  them  when  they  are  any  way 
hurt,  and  washes  them  and  makes  iliem  fruit- 
ful ;  so  that  they  are  as  that  flock,  described 
Cant.  iv.  2:  they  are  comely,  but  their  shep- 
herd much  more  so  :  Formosi  pccoris  custos, 
formosior  ipse.  They  are  given  him  in  the 
Father's  purpose  and  choice,  and  so,  those 
that  return,  are,  even  while  they  wander, 
sheep  in  some  other  sense  than  the  rest  which 
perish.  They  are,  in  the  secret  love  of  elec- 
tion, of  Christ's  sheei)f(j|d,  thoui,fh  not  as  yet 
actually  brought  into  it.  But  when  his  time 
comes,  wheri'soever  they  wander,  and  how 
far  off  soever,  even  those  who  have  strayed 
most,  yet  he  restores  them,  and  rejoices 
heaven  with  their  return,  and  leads  them  till 
he  brings  them  to  partake  of  the  j<jy  that  is 
there.  That  is  the  end  of  the  way  wherein 
he  guides  them.  h)\\\\  x.  27,  28:  They  hear 
my  voice,  and  follow  me.  And  they  shall 
never  repent  having  done  so.  To  follow  him, 
is  to  follow  life,  for  he.  is  the  life.  He  is  in 
that  Jilory  which  we  desire;  and  where 
Would  we  be,  if  not  where  he  is,  who,  at  hii 


202 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  III. 


departure  from  the  world,  said,  Where  I  am, 
there  they  shu'l  be  a/so .'  To  this  happy 
iiieeiing  and  heavenly  abode,  may  God,  of  iiis 
iaiinite  mercy,  l)rin<j  us,  througli  ^e^us  Christ 
our  Lord .'  Amen. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Ver.  1.  I-ikewise,  ye  wives,  be  in  subjection  to  your 
own  hu>baiids  ;  that  it' any  one  obey  not  the  word, 
Ihey  also,  V, ithout  tlie  word,  nuiy  be  won  by  the 
conversation  of  the  wives. 

The  tabernacle  of  the  sun.  Psalm  xix.  4,  is 

set  high  in  the  heavens ;  but  it  is  so,  that  it 
may  Jiave  influence  below  upon  the  earth. 
And  the  word  of  God,  which  is  spoken  of 
there  immediately  after,  as  being  in  many 
ways  like  it,  holds  resemblantfe  in  ibis  partic- 
ular :  it  is  a  sublime  heavenly  light,  and  yet 
descends,  in  its  use,  to  the  lives  of  men,  in 
the  variety  of  tlieir  stations,  to  warm  and  to  1 
enligiiten,  to  regulate  their  afl'ections  and  ac- ! 
tions  in  whatsoever  course  of  life  they  are ' 
called  to.    By  a  perfect  revolution  or  circuit, 
as  there  it  is  said  of  the  sun,  it  visits  all  ranks 
and  estates  :  its  going  forth  ts  from  the  end 
of  heaven,  and  its  circuit  unto  t'he  ends  of  it, 
and  there  is  nothing  hid  from  the  heat  of  it ; 
it  disdains  not  to  teach  the  very  servants,  in 
their  low  condition  and  employments,  how 
to  behave  themselves,  and  sets  before  them 
no  n)eaner  example  than  that  of  Jesus  Christ,  I 
which  is  the  highest  of  all  examples.  Sol 
here,  the  apostle  proceeds  to  give  rules  adapt- 1 
ed  to  that  relation  which  is  the  main  one  in 
families,  that  of  hyshamis  and  wives.    As  for 
the  order  it  is  indifferent;  yet,  possibly,  he 
begins  here  at  the  duties  of  wives,  because 
his  former  rules  were  given  to  inferiors,  to 
subjects  and  servants:  and  the  duty  he  com- 
mends particularly  here  to  them,  is  subjec- 
tion: Likewise,  ye  wives,  be  in  subjection,  &cc. 

After  men  have  said  all  they  can,  and 
much,  it  may  be,  to  little  purpose,  in  running  j 
the  parallel  between  these  two  estates  of  life,  ! 
marriage  and  celiiiacy,  the  result  will  be 
found,  I  conceive,  all  things  being  truly  esti- 
mated, very  little  odds,  even  in  natural  re- 
spects, in  the  things  themselves,  saving  only 
as  the  particular  condition  of  persons,  and 
the  hand  of  Divine  Providence,  turn  the  bal- 
ance the  one  way  or  the  other.  The  writing 
of  satires  against  either,  or  panegyrics  on  the 
one  in  prejudice  of  the  other,  is  but  a  caprice 
of  men's  minds,  according-  to  their  own  hu- 
mor;  but  in  respect  of  rcligi(5n,  the  apostle, 
havinir  scanned  the  subject  to  the  full,  leaves 
it  indifferent,  oidy  re(juiring  in  those  who  are 
so  engaged,  hearts  as  disengaged  as  may  be, 
that  Ihey  that  marry  be  as  if  they  married 
not,  kr.  1  Cor.  vii.  29,  31.  Within  a  while, 
it  will  be  all  one  :  as  he  adds  that  grave  rea- 
Bon,  For  the  fashion  \Ty,ii,„]  of  this  world 
vasseth — it  is  but  a  pageant,  a  show  of  an  hour 
long  [waoiyci],  goes  by,  and  is  no  more  seen. 


Thus,  the  great  pomps  and  soletnnities  of 
marriages  of  kings  and  i)rinces,  in  formei 
times,  where  are  they  ?  Oh  I  how  unseemly 
is  it  to  have  an  immortal  soul  drowned  in  the 
esteem  and  atl'ection  of  anything  that  per- 
ishes, and  to  be  cold  and  indilferent  in  seek- 
ing after  a  good  that  will  last  as  long  as  it- 
self! Aspire  to  that  good  which  is  the  only 
match  for  the  soul,  that  close  union  with  God 
which  can  not  be  dissolved,  which  he  eallii 
an  everlasting  marriage,  IIos.  ii.  19  ;  thai 
will  make  you  happy,  either  with  the  other, 
or  without  it.  All  the  happiness  of  the  most 
excellent  persons,  and  the  very  toj)  of  all  af- 
fection and  prosperity  meeting  in  human 
marriages,  are  but  a  dark  and  weak  repre- 
sentation of  the  solid  joy  which  is  in  tl;a(. 
mysterious  divine  union  of  the  spirit  of  man 
with  the  Father  of  sju-  from  whom  it 
issues.    But  this  by  the  way. 

The  common  sjjring  of  all  mutual  duties, 
on  both  sides,  must  be  supposed  to  be  love  , 
that  peculiar  conju^jal  love  which  makes 
them  one,  will  infuse  such  sweetness  into  the 
authority  of  the  husband  and  the  obedience 
of  the  wife,  as  will  make  their  lives  harmo- 
nious, like  the  sound  of  a  well-tuned  instru- 
ment ;  whereas,  without  that,  having  such  a 
universal  conjuncture  of  interest  in  all  their 
affairs,  they  can  not  escape  frequent  contests 
and  discords,  which  is  a  sound  more  un- 
pleasant than  the  jarring  of  untuned  strings 
to  an  exact  ear.  And  this  should  be  consid- 
ered in  the  choice,  that  it  be  not,  as  it  is  too 
often  (which  cnuseth  so  many  domestic  ills), 
contracted  (jnly  as  a  bargain  of  outward  ad- 
vantages, but  as  a  union  of  hearts.  And 
where  this  is  not,  and  there  is  something 
wanting  in  this  point  of  alfeciion,  there,  if 
the  parties,  or  either  of  them,  have  any  sa- 
ving knowledge  of  God,  and  access  to  him  in 
prayer,  they  will  be  earnest  suiters  for  his 
help  in  this,  that  his  hand  may  set  right 
what  no  other  can  ;  that  he  who  is  love  it- 
self, may  infuse  that  mutual  love  into  their 
hearts  now,  which  they  should  have  sought 
sooner.  And  certainly,  they  who  sensibly 
want  this,  and  yet  seek  it  not  of  him,  what 
wonder  is  it,  though  they  find  much  bitter- 
ness and  discontent  ?  Yea,  where  they  agree, 
if  it  be  only  in  natural  affection,  their  obser- 
vance of  the  duties  re(|uircd,  is  not  by  far 
either  so  comfortable  and  pleasing,  or  so  sure 
and  lasting,  as  when  it  ariscth  from  a  reli- 
gious and  Christian  love  in  both,  which  will 
cover  many  failings,  and  take  things  by  the 
best  side. 

Love  is  the  prime  duly  in  both,  the  basis 
of  all  ;  but  because  the  particular  character 
of  it,  as  proper  to  the  wife,  is  conjugal  obe- 
dience and  subjection,  therefore  that  is  usu- 
ally specified,  as  Eph.  v.  12:  Wires,  suhmit 
yourselves  unto  your  own  husbands,  as  unto 
the  Lord  ;  so  here.  Now,  if  it  be  such  obe- 
dience as  ought  to  arise  from  a  sjx'cial  kind 
of  love,  then  the  wife  would  remember  this, 
that  it  must  not  be  constrained,  unchetrfuJ 


Ver.  1.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


203 


obedience :  and  the  husband  would  remem- 
ber, that  he  ought  not  to  require  base  and 
servile  obedience  ;  for  both  these  are  con- 
trary to  that  love,  whereof  this  obedience 
must  carry  the  true  tincture  and  relish,  as 
flowing  from  it:  there  all  will  hold  right, 
where  love  commands,  and  love  obeys. 

This  subjection,  as  all  other,  is  qualified 
thus,  that  it  be  i/i  the  Lord.  His  authority 
is  primitive,  and  binds  first,  and  all  others 
have  their  patents  and  privileges  from  him  ; 
therefore  he  is  supremely  and  absolutely  to 
be  observed  in  all.  If  the  husband  would 
draw  the  wife  to  an  irreligious  course  of  life, 
he  is  not  to  be  followed  in  this,  but  in  all 
things  indift'erent,  this  obedience  must  hold; 
which  yet  forbids  not  a  modest  advice  and 
representation  to  the  husband,  of  that  which 
is  more  convenient,  but  that  done,  a  submis- 
sive yielding  to  the  husband's  will  is  the 
suiting  of  this  rule.  Yea,  possibly,  the  hus- 
band may  not  only  imprudently,  but  unlaw- 
fully will  that  which,  if  not  in  its  own  na- 
ture a  thing  unlawful,  the  wife  by  reason  of 
his  will  may  obey  lawfully,  yea,  could  not 
lawfully  disobey. 

Now,  though  this  subjection  was  a  funda- 
mental law  of  pure  nature,  and  came  from 
that  Hand,  which  made  all  things  in  perfect 
order,  yet  sin,  which  hath  imbiitered  all  hu- 
man things  with  a  curse,  hath  disrelished  this 
subjection,  and  made  it  taste  somewhat  of  a 
punishment  {(ren.  iii.  IG),  and  that  as  a  suit- 
able punishment  of  the  woman's  abuse  of  the 
power  she  had  with  the  man,  to  the  drawing 
of  hirn  to  disobedience  against  God. 

The  bitterness  in  this  subjection  arises 
from  the  corruption  of  nature  in  both  ;  in 
the  wife  a  perverse  desire  rasher  to  com- 
mand, or  at  least  a  repining  discontent  at 
the  obligation  to  obey  ;  and  this  is  increased 
by  the  disorder,  and  im[)rudence,  and  harsh- 
ness of  husbands,  in  the  use  of  their  au- 
thority. 

But  in  a  Christian,  tlie  conscience  of  di- 
vine apiiointmcnt  will  carry  it,  and  weigh 
down  all  dilficulties  ;  for  the  wife  considers 
her  station,  that  she  is  set  in  it  ( .ri7,-.,,r.,  „  [, 
it  is  the  rank  the  Lord's  hand  hath  placed 
her  in,  and  tiierefore  she  will  not  break  it : 
from  respect  and  love  to  him,  she  can  digest 
much  frovvardness  in  a  husband,  and  make 
that  herjjatient  subjection,  a  sacrifice  to  God  : 
Lord,  I  olfcr  iliis  to  thee,  and  for  thy  sake  I 
humbly  bear  it. 

The  worth  and  love  of  a  husband  may 
cause  that  respect,  where  this  rule  moves 
not  :  but  the  Christian  wife  who  hath  love 
to  God,  though  her  husband  be  not  so  comely, 
Dor  so  wise,  nor  an  v  way  so  amiable,  as  many 
others,  yet,  because  he  is  her  own  husband, 
and  because  of  the  Lord's  command  in  the 
general,  and  his  providence  in  the  particular 
disposal  of  his  own,  therefore  she  loves  and 
obeys. 

That  if  anij  nhey  not  the  word.']^  This  suj)- 
poses  a  particular  ".ase,  and  applies  the  rule 


to  it,  taking  it  for  granted  that  a  believing 
wife  will  cheerfully  observe  and  respect  a 
believing  husband,  but  if  he  is  an  unbeliev- 
er, yet  that  unties  not  this  engagement ; 
yea,  there  is  something  in  this  case  which 
presses  it  and  binds  it  the  more,  a  singular 
good  which  probably  may  follow  upon  obey- 
ing such.  By  thai  good  conversation,  they 
may  be  gained,  who  believe  itot  the  word  : 
not  that  they  could  be  fully  converted  with- 
out the  word,  but  having  a  prejudice  agaifist 
the  word,  that  may  be  removed  by  the  car- 
riage of  a  believing  wife,  and  they  may  be 
somewhat  mollified,  and  prepared,  and  in- 
duced to  hearken  to  religion,  and  lake  it  into 
consideration. 

This  gives  not  Christians  a  warrant  i,- 
draw  on  themselves  this  task,  and  make 
themselves  this  work,  by  choosing  to  be  join- 
ed to  an  unbeliever,  either  a  profane  or 
merely  an  unconverted  husband  or  wife  :  but 
teacheth  them,  being  so  matched, wIkU  should 
be  their  great  desire,  and  their  suitable  car- 
riage in  order  to  the  attainment  of  it.  And 
in  the  primitive  Christian  times,  this  fell  out 
often  :  by  the  gosi)el  jjreacbed,  the  husband 
might  be  converted  from  gross  infidelity,  Ju- 
daism, or  Paganism,  and  not  the  wife  ;  or  the 
wife  (which  is  the  supposition  here),  and  not 
the  husband  ;  and  then  came  in  the  use  of 
this  consideration. 

And  this  is  the  freedom  of  divine  grace,  to 
pick  and  choose  where  it  will,  one  o  f  a  family, 
or  two  of  a  trihe,  as  the  prophet  bath  it,  Jer. 
iii.  14;  and  according  to  our  Savior's  word, 
two  in  'le  h'd,  the  on';  taken,  and  the  other 
left,  Luke  xvii.  34  ;  some  selecti'd  ones  in  a 
congregation,  or,  in  a  house,  a  child,  possibly, 
or  servant,  or  wife,  while  it  leaves  the  rest. 
The  apostle  seems  to  imply  i)arii(;ularly,  that 
there  were  tnany  instances  of  this,  wives  being 
converts,  and  their  husbands  unbelieving. 
We  can  determine  nothing  as  to  their  con- 
jecture, who  think  that  there  will  be  more  of 
that  sex,  here  called  the  weaker  vessels,  than  of 
the  other,  who  shall  be  vessels  oi'honor,  which 
God  seasons  with  grace  here,  and  hereafter 
will  fill  with  glory  ;  but  this  is  clear,  that 
many  of  them  are  converted,  while  many  men, 
and  divers  of  them  very  wise  and  learned 
men,  having  the  same  or  far  greater  means 
and  opporiunities,  do  jjerish  in  unbelief  This, 
I  say,  eviden(;es  the  liberty  and  the  power  of 
the  spirit  of  God,  that  wind  thai  hlnwelh  where 
it  lisleth  ;  and  withal  it  suits  with  the  word 
of  the  apostle,  that  the  Lord  this  way  abases 
those  thini;s  that  men  account  so  much  of, 
and  hath  chosen  the  weak  things  of  the  world 
to  confound  the  mighty.  1  Cor.  i.  26.  Nor 
doth  the  pliableness  and  tenderness  of  their 
alTections  (though  grace,  once  wrought,  may 
make  good  use  of  that)  make  their  conver- 
sion easier,  but  the  harder  rather,  for  throu<;h 
nature's  corruption  they  would  by  that  be  led 
to  yield  more  to  evil  than  to  <rood  ;  but  the 
efficacy  of  grace  appears  much  in  establishing 
their  hearts  .ii  the  love  of  God  and  in  making 


204 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[C'HAf.  in. 


them,  when  cnoe  possessed  with  that,  to  be 
iiitioxible  and  invincible  by  the  temptations 
of  the  world,  and  the  strength  and  slights  of 
Satan. 

That  which  is  here  said  of  their  conversa- 
tion, holds  of  the  husband  in  the  like  case, 
and  of  friends  and  kindred,  and  generally  of 
all  Christians,  in  reference  to  them  with 
whom  they  converse ;  that  their  spotless, 
lioly  carriage  as  Christians,  and  in  their  par- 
ticular station,  as  Christian  husbands,  or 
wives,  or  friends,  is  a  very  likely  and  hopeful 
means  of  converting  others  who  believe  not. 
jMen  who  are  prejudiced,  observe  actions  a 
great  deal  more  than  words.  In  those  first 
times  specially,  the  blameless  carriage  of 
Christians  didnmch  to  the  met  easing  of  their 
number. 

Strive,  ye  wives,  and  others,  to  adorn  and 
commend  the  reli2ion  you  profess  to  others, 
especially  those  nearest  you,  who  are  averse. 
Give  no  just  cause  of  scandal  and  prejudice 
against  religion.    Beware  not  only  of  gross  j 
failings  and  ways  of  sin,  but  of  such  inipru-  | 
<]ences  as  may  expose  you  and  your  profes-  i 
sion.    Study  both  a  holy  and  a  wise  carriage, 
And  pray  much  for  it.    If  any  of  you  lack 
xvisdon,  let  him  ask  of  God  that  giveth  to  all 
men  liberally,  and  unbraideth  not,  and  it  shall 
be  given  him.  Jam.  i.  5. 

But  .f  wives  and  other  private  Christians 
be  thus  obiised,  how  much  more  the  ministers 
of  the  word  I  Oh  I  that  we  could  remember 
our  deep  obligations  to  holiness  of  life  I  It 
/las  been  rightly  said,  Either  teach  none,  or 
let  your  life  teach  too.  Cohelleth,  anima  con- 
cionatrix,  xhe  preaching  soul. xaml  the  preach- 
er be  (Eccl.  i.  1),  the  word  of  life  springing 
from  inward  affection,  and  then,  vita  cnncion- 
atrix,  the  preachnis:  life.  The  Sunday's 
sermon  lasts  but  an  hour  or  two.  but  holi- 
ness of  life  is  a  continued  sermon  all  the  week 
long. 

They  also  without  the  urord  may  be  iron.'] 
The  conversion  of  a  soul  is  an  inestimable 
gain  ;  it  IS  a  hiffh  trading  and  design  to  go 
about  it.  Oh  I  the  precious  soul,  but  how 
undervalued  by  most !  Will  we  believe  him 
who  knew  well  the  price  of  it,  for  he  paid 
it,  that  the  whole  visible  world  is  not  worth 
one  soul,  the  gaining  of  it  all  can  not  counter- 
vail that  loss  ?  Matt.  xvi.  26.  This,  wives, 
and  husbands,  and  parents,  and  friends,  if 
themselves  converted,  would  consider  serious- 
ly, and  apply  themselves  to  pray  much  that 
their  unconverted  relations,  in  nature  dead, 
may  be  enlivened,  and  thai  they  mav  receive 
them  from  death  :  and  they  would  esteem 
nothing,  re^t  in  no  natural  content  or  gain 
without  that,  at  least,  without  usin?  incessant 
diligence  in  seeking  it,  and  their  utmost  skill 
and  pains.  But  above  all,  this  is  the  peculiar 
task  of  ministers,  as  the  apostle  often  repeats 
it  of  himself,  that  unto  the  Jews  he  became  as 
a  Jev:,  that  he  might  sraiti  the  Jeirs,  Sec.  1 
Cor.  ix.  All  sains  on  earth  are  base  in  com- 
parison with  this.    Me  male  amand%  me  per- 


didi,  et  te  solum  qucrrendo  ef  pure  amandit, 
me  et  te  pariter  inveni :  By  loving  self  amiss, 
myself  I  lost  ;  by  seeking  thee,  and  singly, 
sincerely  lovinsr  thee,  at  once  myself  and  thee 
I  found. — (Thomas  :i  Kempis.)  A  soul  con- 
verted is  gained  to  itself,  sained  to  the  pastor, 
or  friend,  or  wife,  or  husband,  who  sought  it, 
and  gained  to  .Tesus  Christ :  added  to  his 
treasury,  who  thought  not  his  own  precious 
blood  loo  dear  to  lay  out  for  ihis  gain. 

Ver.  2.  While  they  behold  your  chaste  conversation 
coupled  witli  fear 

As  all  graces  are  connected  in  their  own  na- 
ture, so  it  is  altogether  necessary  that  they  be 
found  in  connexion  for  the  end  here  propound- 
ed, the  conversion  of  those  who  are  strangers 
to  religion,  and  possessed  with  false  notions 
of  it,  and  prejudices  against  it.  It  is  not  the 
regularity  of  some  particular  actions,  nor  the 
observance  of  some  duties,  that  will  serve ; 
but  it  is  an  even  uniform  frame  of  life  that 
the  apostle  here  teaches  Christian  wives,  par- 
ticularly in  reference  to  this  end,  the  gaining 
or  conversion  of  unbelieving  husbands.  And 
this  we  have  both  in  that  word,  theii  conver- 
sation,  which  signifies  the  whole  course  and 
tract  of  their  lives,  and  in  the  particular  speci- 
fying of  the  several  duties  proper  to  that  re- 
lation and  state  of  life.  1.  Subjection.  2.  Chas- 
tity. 3.  Fear.  4.  3Iodesty  in  outward  orna- 
ments. 5.  The  inward  ornaments  of  meek- 
ness and  quietness  of  spirit. 

The  combination  of  these  things  makes  up 
such  a  wife,  and  the  exercise  of  them  through- 
out her  life,  makes  up  such  a  conversation, 
as  adorns  and  commends  the  religion  she  pro- 
fesses, and  is  a  fit,  and  may  be  a  successful, 
means  of  converting  the  husband  who  as  yet 
professes  it  not. 

Chaste  conversation.]  It  is  the  proper  char- 
acter of  a  Christian,  to  study  purity  in  all 
things,  as  the  word  ■••/im"!  in  its  extent  signi- 
fies. Let  the  world  turn  th»t  to  a  reproach, 
call  them  as  you  will,  this  is  sure,  that  none 
have  less  fancy  and  presumption  of  petrify, 
than  those  who  have  most  desire  of  it.  But 
the  particular  pureuess  here  intended  is,  as  it 
is  rendered,  that  of  chastity,  as  the  word  is 
often  taken  :  it  being  a  grace  that  peculiarly 
deserves  that  name,  as  the  sins  contrary  to  it 
are  usually  and  deservedly  called  uncleannesx. 
It  is  the  pure  whiteness  of  the  soul  to  be  chaste, 
to  abhor  and  disdain  the  swinish  puddle  of 
lust,  than  which  there  is  nothing  that  doth 
more  debase  the  excellent  soul  :  nothing  thai 
more  evidently  draws  it  down  below  itself, 
and  makes  it  truly  brutish.  The  three  kinds 
of  chastity — virafinal,  conjugal,  and  vidual, 
are  all  of  them  acceptable  to  God.  and  suita- 
ble to  the  profession  of  a  Christian  :  there- 
fore, in  ceneral  only,  whatsoever  be  our  con- 
dition in  life,  let  us  in  that  way  conform  to  it, 
and  follow  the  apostle's  Tu\e,  j>o.^sessing  these 
our  earthen  vessels,  our  bodies,  in  holiness  and 
honor  (by  v/hich  is  there  expressed  this  same 
chastity)  ;  and  this  we  shall  do  if  we  rightly 
remember  our  calling  as  Christians,  in  wha 


Vek.  3,  4.J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


205 


Bort  of  life  soever  ;  as  there  he  tells  us,  God 
hath  not  called  us  to  uncleanness,  but  unto 
holiness.  1  Thess.  iv.  7. 

With  fear.]  Either  a  reverential  respect 
to  their  husbands,  or,  the  fear  of  God ; 
whence  flows  best  both  that  and  all  other 
observance,  whether  of  conjugal  or  any  other 
Christian  duties.  Be  not  presumptuous,  as 
some,  because  you  are  chaste,  but  so  contem- 
per  your  conversation  with  a  religious  fear 
of  God,  tiiat  you  dare  not  take  liberty  to  of- 
fend him  in  any  other  thing,  and,  according 
to  his  institution,  with  a  reverential  fear  of 
your  husbands,  shunning  to  off"end  them. 
But,  possibly,  this  fear  doth  particularly  re- 
late to  the  other  duty  with  which  it  was 
joined.  Chaste  conversation  with  fear  ;  fear-  | 
ing  the  least  stain  of  chastity,  or  the  very 
least  appearance  of  anyt]iin.g  not  suiting  with 
it.  It  IS  a  delicate  timorous  grace,  afraid  of 
the  least  air,  or  shadow  of  anything  that  hath 
but  a  resemblance  of  wronging  it,  in  carriage, 
or  si)eech,  or  apparel,  as  follows  in  the  third 
and  fourth  verses. 

Ver.  3.  Whose  adorning,  let  it  not  be  that  outward 
adorning  of  plaiting  the  hair,  and  of  wearing  of 
gold,  or  of  putting  on  of  apparel ; 

Ver.  4.  Hut  let  it  be  the  hidden  man  of  the  heart,  in 
that  which  is  not  corruptible,  even  the  ornament 
of  a  meok  and  quiet  spirit,  which  is  in  the  sight  of 
God  of  great  price. 

That  nothing  may  be  wanting  to  the  qual- 
ify'ing  of  a  Christian  wife,  she  is  taught  how 
to  dress  herself:  supposing  a  general  desire, 
but  especially  in  that  sex,  of  ornament  and 
comeliness:  the  sex  which  begati  first  our 
engagement  to  the  necessity  of  clothing,  hav- 
ing still  a  peculiar  propensity  to  be  curious  in 
that,  to  improve  the  necessity  to  an  advantage. 

The  direction  here  given,  corrects  the  mis- 
placing of  this  diligence,  and  addresses  it 
right :  Let  it  not  be  of  the  outward  man,  in 
plaiting,  &c. 

Our  perverse,  crooked  hearts  turn  all  we 
use  into  disorder.  Those  two  necessities  of 
our  life,  food  and  raiment,  how  few  know 
the  right  measure  and  bounds  of  them  !  Un- 
less poverty  be  our  carver  and  cut  us  short, 
who,  almost,  is  there,  that  is  not  bent  to 
something  excessive  !  Far  more  are  beholden 
to  the  lowliness  of  their  estate,  than  to  the 
lowliness  of  their  mind,  for  sobriety  in  these 
things  ;  and  yet,  some  will  not  be  so  bounded 
neither,  but  will  profusely  lavish  out  upon 
trifles,  to  the  sensible  prejudice  of  their  es- 
tate. 

It  is  not  rny  purpose,  nor  do  I  think  it  very 
needful,  to  debate  many  particulars  of  apparel 
and  ornament  of  the  body,  their  lawfulness 
or  unlawfulness:  only, 

First,  It  is  out  of  doubt,  that  though  cloth- 
/ng  was  first  drawn  on  by  necessity,  yet,  all 
regard  of  ccjrneliness  and  ornament  in  ap- 
parel, IS  not  unlawful  ;  nor  doth  the  apostle's 
expression  here,  rightly  considered,  fasten 
that  upon  the  adorning  he  here  speaks  of. 
He  doth  no  more  miiversally  condemn  the  I 


use  of  gold  tor  ornament,  than  he  doth  any 
other  comely  raiment,  which  here  he  means, 
by  that  general  word  of  putting  on  of  ap- 
parel;  for  his  [jiot]  is  comparative — not  this 
adorning,  but  the  ornament  of  a  meek  spirit, 
that  rather,  and  as  being  much  more  comely 
and  precious ;  as  that  known  expression,  7 
will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice. 

Secondly,  According  to  the  difl'erent  place 
and  quality  of  persons,  there  may  be  a  diff'er- 
ence  in  this  :  thus,  the  robes  of  judges  and 
princes  are  not  only  for  personal  ornament, 
but  because  there  is  in  them,  especially  lor 
vulgar  eyes  wliich  seldom  look  deeper  than 
the  outside  of  things,  there  is,  I  say,  in  that 
apparel  a  representation  of  authority  or  maj- 
esty, which  befits  their  place  ;  and  besides 
this,  othei  persons  who  are  not  in  public 
place,  men  or  women  (who  are  here  jiarticu- 
larly  directed),  yet  may  have  in  this  some 
mark  of  their  rank  :  and  in  persons  other- 
wise little  distant,  some  allowance  may  be 
made  for  the  habits  and  breeding  of  some  be- 
yond others,  or  the  quality  of  their  society, 
and  those  with  whom  they  converse. 

Thirdly,  It  is  not  impossible  that  there 
may  be  in  some  an  aff'ecied  pride  in  the 
meanness  of  apparel,  and  in  others,  under  ei- 
ther neat  or  rich  attire,  a  very  humble  unaf- 
fected mind  :  using  it  upon  some  of  the  afore- 
mentioned engagements,  or  such  like,  and 
yet  the  heart  not  at  all  upon  it.  Magnus  qui 
fictilibus  utttur,  tanijuam  argento,  ?iec  ille  mi- 
nor tpii  argento  tanijuam  fictilibus,  says  Sen- 
eca :  Great  is  he  who  enjoys  his  earthen- 
ware as  if  it  were  plate,  and  not  less  great  is 
the  man  to  whom  all  his  plate  is  no  more 
than  earthernware. 

Fourthly,  It  is  as  sure  as  any  of  these,  that 
real  excess  and  vanity  in  apparel  will  creep 
in,  and  will  always  willingly  convey  itself 
under  the  cloak  of  some  of  these  honest  and 
lawful  considerations.  This  is  a  prime  piece 
of  our  heart's  deceit,  not  (*ily  to  hold  out  fair 
pretences  to  others,  but  to  put  the  trick  U])on 
ourselves,  to  make  ourselves  believe  we  are 
right  and  single-minded  in  those  things  where- 
in we  are  directly  serving  our  lusts,  and  feed- 
in:;  our  ow:i  vanity. 

Fifthly,  To  a  sincere  and  humble  Chris- 
tian, very  little  either  disj)uie  or  discourse 
concerning  this  will  be  ncodCul.  A  tender 
conscience,  and  a  heart  purified  from  vanity 
and  weaned  from  the  world,  will  be  sure  to 
regulate  this,  and  all  other  things  of  this  na- 
ture, after  the  safest  manner,  and  will  be 
wary,  1,  of  lightness  and  fantastic  garb  in  ap- 
parel, which  is  the  very  bush  or  sign  hanging 
out,  that  tells  a  vain  mind  lodges  within 
and,  2,  of  excessive  costliness,  which  both 
argues  and  feeds  the  pride  of  the  heart,  and 
defrauds,  if  not  others  of  their  dues,  yet,  the 
poor  of  thy  charity,  which,  in  (lod's  sight,  is 
a  due  debt  too.  Far  more  comfort  shall  thou 
have  on  thy  deathbed,  to  remember  that  such 
a  time,  instead  of  putting  lace  on  niy  own 
clothes,  I  helped  a  naked  back  to  clothing,  1 


206 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[CiiAt  in. 


abated  soniowhat  of  my  former  superfluities,  ] 
to  i^uppiy  the  j^oor's  necessities — far  sweeter  ' 
■ti'ill  this  be,  than  to  remember  that  I  could 
needli'ssly  cast  away  many  poinuis  to  serve  1 
niv  pride,  rather  than  give  a  penny  to  relieve  i 
tie  poor. 

A?  conscientious  Christians  will  not  exceed 
in  the  thing  itself,  so,  in  as  i'ar  as  they  use  ■ 
lawful  ornament  and  comeliness,  they  will 
do  it  without  bestowing  much  either  of  dili- 
gence or  delight  on  the  husiness.  j 

To  have  the  mind  taken  and  pleased  with 
such  things,  is  so  foolish  and  childish  a  thing,  ' 
that  if  most  might  not  find  it  in  themselves, 
ihey  would  wonder  at  it  in  many  others,  of 
years  and  common  sense.  Nnn  his  pucri,  scd  1 
semper :  not  twice  children,  but  always. 
And  yet,  truly,  it  is  a  disease  that  few  escape. 
It  is  strange  upon  how  poor  things  men  and 
women  will  be  vam,  and  think  themselves 
somebody  ;  not  only  upon  some  comeliness 
in  their  face  or  feature,  which  though  poor, 
is  yet  a  part  of  themselves,  but  of  things  mere- 
ly without  them  :  that  they  are  well  lodged, 
or  well  mounted,  or  well  api)arelled,  either 
richly,  or  well  in  fashion.  Jjight,  empty 
minds  are,  like  bladders,  blown  up  with  any- 
thing. And  they  who  perceive  not  this  in 
themselves,  are  the  most  drowned  in  it ;  but 
such  as  have  found  it  out,  and  abhor  their 
own  follies,  are  still  hunting  and  following 
these  in  themselves,  to  heat  ihem  out  of  their 
hearts  and  to  shame  them  from  such  foppe- 
-ies.  The  soul  fallen  from  God,  hath  lost  iis 
rue  worth  and  beauty  ;  and  therefore  it  base- 
y  descends  to  these  mean  things,  to  serve 
and  dress  the  body,  and  take  share  with  it  of 
ts  unworthy  borrowed  ornaments,  while  it 
ia;h  lost  and  forgotten  God,  and  seeks  not 
after  him,  knows  not  that  he  alone  is  the 
beauty  and  ornament  of  the  soul  (Jer.  ii.  32), 
his  Spirit  and  the  graces  of  it  its  rich  attire, 
as  is  here  particularly  specified  in  one  excel- 
lent grace,  and  it  holds  true  in  the  rest. 

The  apostle  do'li  indeed  expressly,  on  pur- 
pose, check  and  forbid  vanity  and  excess  in 
apparel,  and  excessive  delight  in  lawful  de- 
corum, but  his  prime  end  is  to  recommend 
this  other  ornament  of  the  soul,  the  hidden 
man  of  the  heart. 

It  is  the  thing  the  best  philosophy  aimed 
ai,  as  some  of  their  wisest  men  do  express  it, 
to  reduce  men,  as  much  as  may  be,  from  their 
body  to  iheir  soul  :  but  this  is  the  thing  that 
true  reliirion  alone  doth  effectually  and  thor- 
oughly, calling  them  off  from  the  pampering 
and  feeding  of  a  morsel  for  the  worms,  to  the 
nourishing  of  that  immortal  being  infused 
into  it,  and  direct,  ng \hern  to  the  proper  nour- 
ishment of  souls,  the  Bread  that  came  down 
from  heaven.  John  vi.  27. 

So  here,  the  apostle  pulls  ofT  from  Chris- 
tian women  their  vain  outside  ornaments  : 
but  is  not  this  a  wrong,  to  spoil  all  their 
dressing  and  fineness?  No,  he  doth  this,  only 
10  send  them  to  a  better  wardrobe:  there  is 
much  profit  in  the  change. 


All  the  gold  and  other  riches  of  the  temjde, 
prefigured  the  excellent  graces  t)f  Christians  : 
of  Christ,  indeed,  first,  as  having  all  fulness 
in  himself,  and  as  furnishing  it  to  them,  but 
secondarily,  of  Chrisiians,  as  the  living  tem- 
ples cif  God.  So,  Psalm  xlv.  K!,  the  church 
is  all  glorious;,  but  it  is  u-ithin.  And  the  eni- 
hrt)idery,  the  variety  of  graces,  the  lively  col- 
ors of  other  graces,  shine  best  on  the  dark 
ground  of  humility.  Christ  delights  to  give 
much  ornament  to  his  church,  commends 
what  she  hath,  and  adds  more.  Thy  neck  is 
comely  with  chains  :  ice  will  make  the  borders 
of  i^old.    Cant.  i.  10,  11. 

The  particular  grace  the  apostle  recom- 
mends is  particularly  suitable  to  his  snhject 
in  hand,  the  conjugal  duty  of  wives;  nothing 
so  much  adorning  their  whole  carriage  as  this 
meekness  and  (/uietness  of  spirit.  But  it  is, 
withal,  the  comeliness  of  every  Christian  in 
every  estate.  It  is  not  a  woman's  garment 
or  ornament,  improper  for  men.  There  is 
somewhat  (as  I  may  say)  of  a  particular  cut 
or  fashion  of  it  for  wives  toward  ihcir  hus- 
bands, and  in  their ,  omestic  afl'airs  ;  but  nen, 
all  men  ought  to  wear  of  the  same  stuff,  yea, 
if  I  may  so  speak,  of  the  same  piece,  for  it  is 
in  all  one  and  the  same  spirit,  and  fits  the 
stoutest  and  greatest  commanders.  Moses 
was  a  great  general,  and  yet  not  less  great  in. 
this  virtue,  the  meekest  man  on  earth. 

Nothing  is  more  uncomely  in  a  wife  than 
an  uncomposed,  turbulent  spirit,  that  is  put 
out  of  frame  with  every  trifle,  and  inventive 
of  false  causes  of  disquietncss  and  fretting  to 
itself  And  so  in  a  husband,  and  in  all,  an 
unquiet,  passionate  mind  lays  itself  naked, 
and  discovers  its  own  deformity  to  all.  The 
greatest  part  of  things  that  vex  us,  do  so,  not 
i  from  their  own  nature  or  weight,  but  from 
the  unsettledness  of  our  minds.  Multa  nos 
offendunt  quit  non  Icedunt  :  Many  things  of- 
fend us  which  do  not  hurt  us.  How  comely 
is  it  to  see  a  composed,  firm  mind  and  car- 
riage,  that  is  not  li-ghily  moved  ! 

I  urge  not  a  stoical  stupidity,  but  that  in 
things  which  deserve  sharp  reproof,  the  mind 
keep  in  its  own  station  and  seat  still,  not 
shaken  out  of  itself,  as  the  most  are  ;  that  the 
tongue  utter  not  unseemly,  rash  words,  nor 
the  hand  act  anything  that  discovers  the  mind 
hath  lost  its  command  for  the  time.  But  tru- 
ly, the  most  know  so  ill  how  to  use  just  anger 
upon  just  catjse,  that  it  is  easier,  and  the  safer 
extreme,  not  to  be  angry,  but  still  calm  and 
serene,  as  the  upper  region  :  not  as  the  place 
of  continual  tempest  and  storms,  as  the  most 
are.  Let  it  pass  for  a  kind  of  sheepishness  to 
be  meek  :  it  is  a  likeness  to  Him  who  was  as 
a  .threp  before  the  shearers,  not  opening  his 
mouth;  it  is  a  portion  of  hh  spirit. 

The  apostle  commends  his  exchange  of  or- 
naments, by  two  things.  1.  This  is  incorrup- 
tible, and  therefore  fits  an  incorruptible  soul. 
Your  varieties  of  jewels  and  rich  apparel  are 
perishing  things  ;  you  shall  one  day  see  a 
heap  made  of  all,  and  that  all  on  a  flame. 


Ver.  5-7.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


207 


And  in  reference  to  yourselves,  they  perish 
so(>ner.  When  death  strips  you  of  your  near- 
est garment,  your  iiesh.all  the  others,  which 
were  but  loose  upper  garments  above  it,  must 
off  too:  it  gets,  indeed,  a  covering  to  the 
grave,  but  the  soul  is  left  stark  naked,  if  no 
other  clothing  be  provided  for  it,  for  the  body 
was  but  borrowed  ;  then  it  is  made  bare  of  all. 
But  spiritual  ornaments,  and  this  of  humility, 
and  meekness  among  them,  remain  and  are 
.ncorruptible  ;  they  neither  wear  out,  nor  go 
out  of  fashion,  but  are  still  the  better  for  the 
wearing,  and  shall  last  eternity,  and  shine 
there  in  full  lustre. 

And,  2.  Because  the  opinion  of  others  is 
much  regarded  in  matter  of  apparel,  and  it  is 
mostly  in  respect  to  this  tliat  we  use  orna- 
meni  in  it,  he  tells  us  of  the  account  in  which 
this  is  held  :  men  think  it  poor  and  mean, 
lothing  more  exposed  to  contempt  than  the 
ijurit  of  meekness,  it  is  mere  folly  with  men — 
that  is  no  matter :  this  overweighs  all  their 
lisesteem.  It  is  with  God  of  great  price  ;  and 
things  are  indeed  as  he  values  them,  and  no 
otherwise.  Though  it  be  not  the  country 
'ashion,  yet  it  is  the  fashion  at  court,  yea,  it 

s  the  King's  own  fashion,  Matthew  xi.  29  : 
Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowlij  of 
heart.  Some  who  are  court-bred,  will  send 
for  the  masters  of  fashions  :  though  they  live 
not  in  the  court,  and  though  the  peasants 
think  them  strange  dresses,  yet  they  regard 
not  that,  but  use  them  as  finest  and  best. 
Care  not  what  the  world  say  ;  you  are  not  to 
slay  long  with  them.  Desire  to  have  both 
fashions  and  stuffs  from  court,  from  heaven, 
(his  spirit  of  metkne^is,  and  it  shall  be  sent 

ou.  It  is  never  right  in  anything  with  us, 
till  we  attain  to  this,  to  tread  on  the  opinion 
of  men,  and  eye  nothing  but  God's  approba- 
tion. 

Ver.  5.  For  after  this  manner  in  the  old  timo,  the 
holy  women  also  who  trusted  in  God,  adorned 
themselves  ; 

Veil  (i.  Kven  as  Sarah  obeyed  Abraham,  calling  him 
lord  ,  whose  daughters  ye  are  as  long  as  ye  do 
well,  and  are  not  afraid  with  any  amazement. 

Thk  apostle  enforces  his  doctrine  by  exam- 
ple, the  most  compendious  way  of  teaching. 
Hence,  the  right  way  to  use  the  Scriptures  is, 
to  regulate  our  manners  by  them  ;  as  by  their 
precepts,  so  by  tiieir  examples.  And  for  this 
end  it  is  that  a  great  part  of  the  Bible  is  his- 
torical. There  is  not  in  the  saints  a  transmi- 
gration of  souls,  but  there  is,  so  to  speak,  a 
oneness  of  soul,  they  being  in  all  ages  parta- 
kers of  the  selfsame  spirit.  Hence,  pious  and 
obedient  wives  are  here  called  dnu^hlers 
of  Sarah.  Sucli  women  are  here  desiirnate<l 
as,  1,  Holy  ;  2.  Believing  ;  3.  Firm  and  res- 
alu'.i  .  not  afraid  with  any  amazement. 
Though  by  nature  they  are  fearful,  vet  they 
ire  rend('red  of  undaunted  spirits  by  a  holy, 
ilean,  and  [)ure  conscience.  Believing  wives 
who  fe;ir  Gud,  are  not  terrified  :  their  minds 
are  esiablistied  in  a  due  obedience  to  God, 
and  also  toward  tli  ;ir  hushaiiiJs. 


Ver.  7.  Likewise,  ye  husbands,  dwell  with  them,  ac- 
cording to  knowledge,  giving  honor  luito  the  vvit'Cj 
as  unto  the  weaker  vessel,  imd  as  being  heirs  to. 
gether  of  the  grace  of  life  ;  that  your  prayers  be 
not  hindered. 

Your  wives  are  subject  to  you,  but  you 
likewise  are  subject  to  this  word,  by  which 
all  ought,  in  all  stations,  to  be  directed,  and 
'  by  which,  however,  all  shall  one  day  be 
i  judged.    And  are  you  alike  subject  as  tl  ey 
J :  parents  as  children,  masters  as  ser- 
vants, and  kings  as  their  subjects  ;  all  hold 
of  a  superior,  and  it  is  high  treason  against 
I  the  majesty  of  God,  for  any,  in  any  place  of 
command,  lo  dream  of  an  unbounded  absolute 
authority,  in  opposition  to  him. 

A  spirit  of  prudence,  or  knowledge,  particu- 
larly suitable  and  relating  to  this  subject,  is 
required  as  the  light  and  rule  by  which  the 
husband's  whole  tconomy  and  carriage  is  to 
be  guided.  It  is  required  that  he  endeavor 
after  that  civil  prudence  for  the  ordering  of 
his  affairs  which  tends  to  the  good  of  his 
I  family :  but  chiefly  a  pious,  religious  pru- 
j  dence,  for  regulating  his  mind  and  carriage 
as  a  Christian  husband  ;  that  he  study  the 
rule  of  scripture  in  this  particular,  which 
many  do  not,  neither  advising  with  il  what 
they  should  do,  nor  laying  it,  by  rclleciion, 
upon  their  past  actions,  exainining  by  it  what 
they  have  done.  Now  this  is  the  great  fault 
in  all  practical  things:  most  know  somelhing 
of  them,  but  inadvertency  and  inconsideration, 
our  not  ordering  our  ways  by  that  light,  is  the 
thing  that  spoils  all. 

Knoir/edge  is  required  in  the  wife,  but  more 
eminently  in  the  hushnnd,  as  the  head,  the 
proper  seat  of  knowledge.  It  is  possible 
that  the  wife  may  sometimes  have  the  advan- 
tage of  knowledge,  either  natural  wit  and 
judgment,  or  a  y-reat  measure  of  undersiand- 
ins  of  spiritual  things  ;  but  this  still  holds, 
that  the  husband  is  biiuii<l  to  im|)rove  the 
measure  both  of  na'ural  and  ofsjiiritual  gifts, 
that  he  hath,  or  can  attain  to,  and  to  ajijjly 
them  usefully  to  the  ordering  of  his  conjugal 
carriage,  and  that  he  understand  himself 
obliged  somewhat  the  more,  in  the  very  no- 
tion of  a  husband,  both  to  seek  after  and  tc 
use  that  jirudence  which  is  peculiarly  reijuired 
for  his  due  deportment.  And  a  Christian 
wife,  who  is  more  largely  endowed,  yet  will 
show  all  due  respect  to  the  measure  of  wis- 
doin,  though  it  be  less,  which  is  bestowed 
upon  her  husband. 

Dwell  with  them.]  This,  indeed,  implies 
and  supposes  their  abiding  with  their  wives, 
so  far  as  their  calling  and  lawful  allairs  ])er- 
tnit ;  but  I  conceive  that  what  it  expressly 
means  is,  all  the  conversation  and  duties  of 
that  estate  ;  that  they  so  behave  themselves 
in  dwelling  with  them  as  becomes  men  of 
knowledge,  wise  and  [)rudent  husbands; — 
which  returns  them  usiitilly  the  gain  of  the 
full  reverence  and  resjtect  due  to  them,  of 
which  they  rob  and  divest  themselves,  who 
are  either  of  a  foolish  or  trilling  carriage,  or 
\  of  too  austere  and  rigid  a  conversation. 


208 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[CiiAr.  Ill, 


Girinsr  Aonor  vnto  the  «'f/e.]  This,  I  con- 
ceive, IS  not,  as  some  lake  it,  convenient  main- 
tenance, tiu-iuarh  that  is  a  requisite  duty  loo, 
and  may  be  taken  in  under  tins  word  :  but  it 
seems  lo  be  ciiielly  a  due  conjuijal  esteem  of 
them,  and  respect  to  them,  the  husbaiid  not 
vililyinn;  and  despising  them,  whicii  will  be 
apt  to  grieve  and  cxasperaie  tiiem  ;  not  dis- 
closing the  weaknesses  of- the  wife  to  others, 
nor  observing  them  too  narrowly  himself,  but 
hiding  them  both  from  others'  and  his  own 
eyes  by  love  ;  not  seeing  them  further  than 
love  itself  requires  ;  that  is,  to  the  wise  rec- 
tifying of  them  by  mild  advices  and  admoni- 
tions that  flow  from  love.  And  to  this  tlie 
reasons,  indeed,  suit  well.  It  seems  at  first 
a  little  incongruous,  honor  because  weaker, 
but  not  when  we  consider  the  kind  of  honor  ; 
not  of  reverence  as  superior,  for  that  is  their 
part,  but  of  esteem  and  respect,  without  which 
indeed  love  can  not  consist,  for  we  can  not 
love  that  wiiich  we  do  not  in  some  good  meas- 
ure esteem.  And  care  should  be  taken  that 
they  be  not  contemned  and  slighted,  even  be- 
cause they  are  weaker  ;  for  of  all  injuries, 
contempt  is  one  of  the  most  smarting  and 
sensible,  especially  to  weak  persons,  who  feel 
most  exactly  the  least  touches  of  this.  Omne 
infirnuni  nnlurd  </uerehim  :  Every  weak  being 
IS  naturnlhj  peevish  ;  whereas  greater  spirits 
are  a  little  harder  against  opinion,  and  more 
indiflerent  for  it.  Some  wives  may,  indeed, 
be  of  a  stronger  mind  and  judgment  than 
their  husbands,  yet  these  rules  respect  the 
general  condition  of  the  sexes,  and  speak  of 
the  females  as  ordinarily  weaker. 

Again,  love,  which  is  ever  to  be  supposed 
one  article,  and  the  main  one  (for  nothing,  in- 
deed, can  be  right  where  that  supposition 
proves  false),  love,  I  say,  supposed,  this  rea- 
son is  very  enforcing,  that  the  weaker  the 
vessels  be,  the  more  tenderly  they  should  be 
used  ;  and  the  more  a  prudent  passing  by  of 
frailties  is  needful,  there  love  will  study  it, 
and  bestow  it  the  more.  Yea,  this  tie,  you 
know,  makes  two  one ;  and  that  which  is  a 
part  of  ourselves,  the  more  it  needs  in  that 
respect,  the  more  comeliness  we  put  upon  it, 
as  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  tells  us,  1  Cor.  xii.  23. 
And  this  further  may  be  considered,  that  there 
is  a  mutual  need  of  this /lowormo-  which  con- 
sists in  not  despising  and  in  covering  of  frail- 
ties, as  is  even  implied  in  this,  that  the  wo- 
man is  not  called  simply  weak,  but  ih'^  weak- 
er, and  the  husband,  who  is  generally,  by 
nature's  advantage,  or  should  be,  the  stronger, 
yet  is  weak  too  :  for  both  are  vessels  of  earth, 
and  therefore  frail  ;  both  polluted  with  sin, 
and  therefore  subject  to  a  multitude  of  sinful 
follies  and  frailties.  But  as  the  particular 
frailty  of  their  nature  pleads  on  behalf  of 
women  for  that  honor,  so,  the  other  reason 
added,  is  taken,  not  from  their  particular  dis- 
advantage, but  from  their  common  privilege 
and  advantage  of  grace  as  Christians,  that  the 
Christian  husbaud  and  wife  are  equally  co- 
heirs of  the  same  grace  of  Itje. 


As  being  heirs  together  of  the  aruce  of 
!i/e-\  This  is  that  which  most  strongly  binds 
all  these  duties  on  the  hearts  of  hiisiiands 
and  wives,  and  most  strongly  indeed  binds 
their  hearts  together,  and  makes  them  one. 
If  each  be  reconciled  unto  (iod  in  Christ, 
and  so  an  heir  of  life,  and  one  with  God, 
then  are  they  truly  one  in  God  with  each 
other;  and  that  is  the  surest  and  sweetest 
union  that  can  be.  Natural  love  hath  risen 
very  high  in  some  husbands  and  wives  ;  but 
the  highest  of  it  falls  very  far  short  of  that 
which  holds  in  God.  Hearts  concentrating 
in  him,  arc  most  and  excellentlv  one.  That 
love  which  is  cemented  by  youth  and  beaulv, 
when  these  moulder  and  decay,  as  soon  they 
do,  fades  too.  That  is  somewhat  purer,  and 
so  more  lasting,  which  holds  in  a  natural  or 
j  moral  harmony  of  minds  :  yet,  these  likewise 
may  alter  and  change  by  some  great  acci- 
dent. But  the  moM  refined,  most  spiritual, 
and  most  indissoluble,  is  that  which  is  knit 
with  the  highest  and  purest  Spirit.  And  the 
ignorance  or  disregard  of  this,  is  the  great 
cause  of  so  much  bitterness,  or  so  little  true 
sweetness,  in  the  life  of  most  married  per- 
sons ;  because  God  is  left  out,  because  thev 
meet  not  as  one  in  him. 

j  Heirs  together.]  Loath  will  they  he  to  de- 
spise one  another,  who  are  both  bought  with 
the  precious  blood  of  one  Redeemer,  and 
loath  to  grieve  one  another.    Being  in  him 

j  brought  into  peace  with  God,  they  will  en- 

i  terlain  true  peace  betwixt  themselves,  and 
not  suffer  anything  to  disturb  it.  They  have 
hopes  to  meet,  one  day,  where  isnoihingbut 
perfect  concord  and  peace;  they  will  there- 
fore live  as  heirs  of  that  life  here,  and  make 
their  present  estate  as  like  to  heaven  as  they 

j  can,  and  so,  a  pledge  and  evidence  of  their 
title  to  that  inheritance  of  peace  which  is 
there  laid  up  for  them.  And  they  will  not 
fail  to  put  one  another  often  in  mind  of  those 
hopes  and  that  inheritance,  and  mutually  to 
advance  and  further  each  other  toward  it. 
Where  this  is  not  the  case,  it  is  to  little  pur- 
pose to  speak  of  other  rules.  Where  neither 
party  aspires  to  this  heirship,  live  they  other- 
wise as  they  will,  there  is  one  common  in- 
heritance abiding  them,  one  inheritance  of 
everlasting  flames  ;  and,  as  the)'  do  increase 
the  sin  and  guiltiness  of  one  another  by  tlieir 
irreligious  conversation,  so  that  which  some 
of  them  do  wiclcedly  here,  upon  no  great 
cause,  they  shall  have  full  cause  for  doing 
there  ;  cause  to  curse  the  time  of  their  com- 
ing together,  and  that  shall  be  a  piece  of 
their  exercise  for  ever.  But  happy  those 
persons,  in  any  society  of  marriage  or  friend- 
ship, who  converse  together  as  those  that 
shall  live  eternally  tosjetber  in  glory.  This 
indeed  is  the  sum  of  all  duties. 

Life.]  A  sweet  word,  but  sweetest  of  all 
in  this  sense!  That  life  above,  is  indeed 
alone  worthy  the  name,  and  this  we  have 
here,  in  comparison,  let  it  not  be  called  life, 
but  a  continual  dying,  an  incessant  journey 


VcR.  8.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


toward  the  grave  -t  you  reckon  years,  it  is 
but  a  short  moment  to  him  that  attains  the 
fullest  old  age  ;  but  reckon  miseries  and  sor- 
rows, it  is  long  to  him  that  dies  young.  Oh  ! 
that  this  only  blessed  life  were  more  known, 
and  then  it  would  be  more  desired. 

Grace.]  This  is  the  tenor  of  this  heirship, 
(ree  grace:  this  life  is  a  free  gift.  Rom.  vi. 
ult.  No  life  so  spotless,  either  in  marriage 
or  virginity,  as  to  lay  claim  to  this  life  upon 
other  terms.  If  we  consider  but  a  little, 
what  it  is,  and  what  we  are,  this  will  be 
quickly  out  of  question  with  us  ;  and  we  shall 
be  most  gladly  content  to  hold  it  thus,  by 
deed  of  gift,  and  shall  admire  and  extol  that 
grace  which  bestows  it. 

That  your  prayers  be  not  hrndered.]  He 
supposes  in  Christians  the  necessary  and  fre- 
quent use  of  this;  takes  it  for  granted,  that 
the  heirs  of  life  can  not  live  without  prayer. 
This  is  the  proper  breathing  and  language 
of  these  heirs,  none  of  whom  are  dumb  ; 
they  can  all  speak.  These  heirs,  if  they  be 
alone,  they  pray  alone  ;  if  heirs  together,  and 
jiving  together,  they  pray  together.  Can  the 
husband  and  wife  have  that  love,  wisdom, 
and  meekness,  which  may  make  their  life 
happy,  and  that  blessing  which  may  make 
their  atfairs  successful,  while  they  neglect 
God,  the  onlv  giver  of  these  and  all  good 
things?  You  think  these  needless  motives, 
but  you  can  not  think  how  it  would  sweeten 
your  converse  if  it  were  used  :  it  is  prayer 
that  sanctifies,  seasons,  and  blesses  all.  And 
it  is  not  enough  that  iliey  pray  when  with 
the  family,  but  even  husband  and  wife  to- 
gether by  themselves,  and  also,  with  their 
children  ;  that  they,  especially  the  mother, 
as  being  most  with  them  in  their  childhood, 
when  they  begin  to  be  capable,  may  draw 
them  apart,  and  offer  them  to  God,  often 
praying  wiih  them,  and  instructing  them  in 
their  youth  ;  for  they  are  pliable  while  young, 
as  glass  is  when  hot,  but  after,  will  sooner 
break  than  bend. 

But  above  all,  prayer  is  necessary  as  they 
are  heirs  of  heaven,  ol'ten  sending  up  their 
desires  thither.  You  that  are  not  much  in 
prayer,  appear  as  if  you  look  for  no  more 
than  what  you  have  here.  If  you  had  an 
inheritance  and  treasure  above,  would  not 
your  hearts  delight  to  be  there?  Thus,  tiie 
neart  of  a  Christian  is  in  the  constant  frame 
of  it,  biit  after  a  special  manner  prayer  raises 
the  soul  ab(we  the  world, and  sets  it  in  heav- 
en ;  It  is  its  near  access  unto  God,  and  deal- 
ing witi^  him,  specially  about  those  affairs 
which  cct!cern  that  inheritance.  Now  in 
this  lies  a  grent  part  of  the  comfort  a  Chris- 
tian can  have  .^ere ;  and  the  apostle  knew 
this,  that  he  would  gain  anything  at  their 
hands,  which  he  pressed  by  this  argument, 
that  otherwise  they  would  be  hindereit  in 
their  j)rnyer!>.  He  knew  that  they  who  are 
acquainted  with  prayer,  find  such  unspeaka- 
ble sweetness  in  it,  that  they  will  rather  do 
anything  than  be  prejudiced  in  that. 

27 


'     Now  the  breach  of  conjugal  love,  ihe  jars 
and  contentions  of  husband  and  wife,  do,  out 
of  doubt,  so  leaven  and  imbitter  their  spirits, 
that  they  are  exceeding  unfit  for  prayer, 
which  is  the  sweet  harmony  of  the  soul  in 
j  God 'a  ears:  and  when  the  soul  is  so  far  out 
'  of  tune  as  those  distempers  make*  it,  he  can 
not  but  perceive  it,  whose  ear  is  the  most  ex- 
,  act  of  all,  for  he  made  and  tuned  the  ear, 
and  is  the  fountain  of  harmony.    It  cuts  the 
sinews  and  strength  of  prayer,  makes  breach- 
\  es  and  gaps,  as  wounds  at  which  the  spirits 
fly  out,  as  the  cutting  of  a  vein,  by  which, 
as  they  speak,  it  bleeds  to  death.  When  the 
soul  is  calm  and  composed,  it  may  behold 
the  face  of  God  shining  on  it.    And  those 
who  pray  together,  should  not  only  have 
hearts  in  tune  within  themselves  in  their 
'  own  frame,  but  tuned  together  ;  especially 
:  husband  and  wife,  who  are  one,  ihey  should 
!  have  hearts  consorted  and  sweetly  tuned  to 
each  other  for  prayer.    So  the  word  is  (taf 
rrvfL'pMviinuirnv.  I    Matt,  xviii.  19. 

And  it  is  true,  in  the  general,  that  all  un- 
wary walking  in  Christians  wrongs  their 
communion  with  Heaven,  and  casts  a  damp 
upon  their  prayers,  so  as  to  clog  the  wings 
of  it.    These  two  mutually  help  one  another, 
prayer  and  holy  conversation  :  the  more  ex- 
actly we  walk,  the  more  fit  are  we  for 
i  prayer:  and  the  more  we  pray,  the  more  are 
I  we  enabled  to  walk  exactly  ;  and  it  is  a 
!  happy  life  to  find  the  correspondence  of  these 
.  two,  callinn;  on  the  Lord,  and  depart iiLg  from 
jniijuil y.  1  Tim.  ii.  19.    Therefore,  that  you 
may  \)r,\y  much,  live  holily  :  and,  that  you 
may  live  holily,  be  much  in  prayer.  Surely 
such  are  the  heirs  of  glory,  and  this  is  theii 
way  to  it. 

Ver.  8.  Filially,  be  ye  all  of  one  mind,  having  com- 
I)assion  one  of  another  ;  love  as  brethren,  be  piti- 
ful, be  courteous. 

Here  the  particular  rules  the  apostle  gives 
to  several  relations,  fall  in  again  to  the  main 
current  of  his  general  exhortation,  which 
concerns  us  all  as  Christians.   The  return  of 
his  discourse  to  this  universality,  is  exjiressed 
ill  iWaX  finally,  and  the  universality  of  these- 
duties,  in  all.    It  is  neither  possible  nor  con- 
venient to  descend  to  every  jiarticular;  but 
there  is  supjiosed  in  a  Christian  an  ingenuous 
and  prudent  sjiirit,  to  adapt  tlujse  general 
rules  to  bis  ])ariirular  actions  and  conversa- 
tion ;  S(juaring  by  them  beforehand,  and  ex- 
amining by  them  after.    And  yet  therein  the 
most  fail.    Men  hear  these  as  general  dis- 
courses, and  let  them  pass  so  ;  they  apply 
them  not,  or,  if  they  do,  it  is  readily  to  some 
other  person.    But  they  are  addressed  to  all, 
j  that  e!«ch  one  may  regulate  himself  by  them  ; 
and  so  these  divine  truths  are  like  a  well- 
j  drawn  picture,  which  looks  particularly  upon-: 
!  every  one  among  the  great  multitude  that 
'  look  upon  it.    And  this  one  verse  halh  x 
cluster  of  five  Christian  graces  or  virtues. 
1  That  which  is  in  the  middle,  as  the  stalk  or 
I  root  of  the  rest,  love  and  the  others  growing: 


210 


A  CuMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


IChap.  m. 


out  of  it,  two  on  each  side,  urwnimily  and 
sympathy  on  the  one,  and  pity  and  courtesy 
on  the  oilier.  But  we  sliall  take  tliem  as 
they  lie. 

Of  one  niinfl.]  This  dolli  not  only  mean 
union  in  judgment,  hut  it  exiends  likew.se  to 
atfection  aiul  action  :  espeeially  in  so  far  as 
they  relate  to,  and  depend  U])on  the  other. 
And  so,  I  conceive,  it  comprehends,  in  its  full 
latitude  a  harmony  and  agreement  of  minds, 
and  affections,  and  carriage  in  Christians,  as 
making  up  one  body,  and  a  serious  study  of 
preserving  and  increasing  that  agreement  in 
all  things,  hut  especially  in  spiritual  things, 
in  which  their  connnunion  doth  primely  con- 
sist. And  because  in  this,  the  consent  of 
their  judgments  in  matters  of  religion  is  a 
prime  point,  therefore  we  will  consider  that 
a  little  more  {)articularly. 

And  first,  What  it  is'not. 

1.  It  is  not  a  careless  indifferency  concern- 
ing those  things.  Not  to  be  troubled  about 
them  at  all,  nor  to  make  any  judgment  cun- 
cejning  them,  this  is  not  a  loving  agreement, 
arising  from  oneness  of  sjiirit,  but  a  dead  stu- 
pidity, arguing  a  total  spiritlessness.  As  the 
agreement  ol'  a  number  of  dead  bodies  to- 
gether, which  indeed  do  not  strive  and  con- 
test, that  is,  they  move  not  at  all,  because 
they  live  not ;  so  that  concord  in  things  of 
religion,  which  is  a  not  considering  them, 
nor  acting  of  the  mind  about  them,  is  the 
fruit  and  sign  either  of  gross  ignorance,  or  of 
irreliirion.  They  who  are  wholly  ignorant  of 
spiritual  things,  are  content  you  determine 
and  im]iose  upon  them  what  you  will ;  as  in 
the  dark,  there  is  no  dilTerence  nor  choice  of 
colors,  they  are  all  one.  Bui,  2,  which  is 
Worse,  in  some  this  peaccal)leness  about  reli- 
gion arises  from  a  universal  unbelief  and  dis- 
affection :  and  that  sometimes  conies  of  the 
much  search  and  knowledge  of  debates  and 
controversies  in  religion.  Men  having  so 
many  disputes  about  religion  in  their  heads, 
and  no  life  of  religion  in  their  hearts,  fall 
into  a  conceit  that  all  is  but  juggling,  and 
that  the  easiest  way  is,  to  believe  nothing  ; 
and  these  agree  with  any,  or  rather  with 
none.  Sometimes  it  is  from  a  profane  super- 
cilious disdain  of  all  these  things  ;  and  many 
there  be  among  these  of  Gallio's  temper,  who 
Care  for  none  of  these  tfiin!>;s,  and  who  ac- 
count all  questions  in  religion,  as  he  did,  hut 
matter  of  words  and  names.  And  by  this  all 
religions  may  agree  together.  But  that  were 
not  a  natural  union  produced  by  the  active 
heat  of  the  sjiirit,  but  a  confusion  rather,  ari- 
sing from  the  want  of  it ;  not  a  knitting  to- 
gether, but  a  freezing  together,  as  cold  con- 
gregates all  bodies,  how  heterogeneous  so- 
ever, sticks,  stones,'  and  water ;  but  heat 
makes  first  a  separation  of  different  things, 
and  then  unites  those  of  the  same  nature. 

And  to  one  or  other  of  these  two  is  reduci- 
ble much  of  the  common  quietness  of  people's 
minus  about  religion.  Ail  that  implicit  Ro- 
mish agreement  which  they  boast  ol",  what  is 


i  it,  but  a  brutish  ignorance  of  spirii  ual  things, 
authorized  and  recommended  lor  that  very 
purpose?  And  among  the  learned  of  them, 
j  there  are  as  many  idle  dilferences  and  dis» 
pules  as  among  any.  It  is  an  easy  way,  in- 
'  deed,  to  agree  if  all  will  put  out  their  eyes, 
and  follow  the  blind  guiding  of  their  judge 
of  controversies.  This  is  that  m'lKro^on  rfjafp/iaKOK, 
their  great  device  for  peace,  to  let  the  pope 
'  determine  all.  If  all  will  resolve  to  be  coz- 
ened by  him,  he  will  agree  them  all.  As  if 
the  consciences  of  men  should  only  find  j)eace 
by  being  led  by  the  nose  at  one  man's  jjleas- 
ure  !  A  way  the  a])ostle  Paul  clearly  renoun- 
ces :  Not  for  that  ice  have  dominion  or^er  your 
faith,  hut  are  helpers  of  your  joy  ;  for  by 
faith  ye  stand.    2  Cor.  i.  24. 

And  though  we  have  escaped  this,  yet 
much  of  our  common  union  of  minds,  1  fear, 
proceeds  from  no  -  <her  than  the  afore-men- 
tioned causes,  want  of  knowledge,  and  want 
of  affection  to  religion.  You  that  boast  you 
live  conformably  to  the  appointments  of  the 
church,  and  that  no  one  hears  of  your  noise, 
we  may  thank  the  ignorance  of  your  mnids 
for  that  kind  of  quietness.  But  the  unanimity 
here  required,  is  anc  ther  thing  ;  and  before  I 
unfold  it,  I  shall  premise  this — That  although 
it  be  very  difficult,  and  it  may  be  imjiossiljle, 
to  determine  what  things  are  alone  funda- 
mental in  religion,  under  the  notion  of  difi'er- 
ence,  intended  by  that  word,  yet  it  is  un- 
doubted that  there  be  some  truths  more  ab- 
solutely necessary,  and  therefore  accordingly 
more  clearly  revealed  than  some  others ; 
there  are  jiiyaXa  roC  vojiov,  ^reat  things  of  the 
law,  and  so  of  the  gospel.  And  though  no 
part  of  Divine  truth  once  fully  cleared  ought 
to  be  slighted,  yet  there  are  things  that  may 
be  true,  and  still  are  but  of  less  importance 
and  of  less  evidence  than  others  :  and  this 
difference  is  wisely  to  be  considered  by  Chris- 
tians, for  the  interest  of  this  agreement  of 
minds  here  recommended.  And  concerning 
it  we  may  safely  conclude, 

1.  That  Christians  ought  to  have  a  clear 
and  unanimous  belief  of  the  mysteries  and 
principles  of  faith  :  to  agree  in  those  without 
controversy.  2.  They  ought  to  be  diligent 
in  the  research  of  truth  in  all  things  that  con- 
cern faith  and  religion  :  and  wiihal  to  use  all 
due  means  for  the  fullest  consent  and  agree- 
ment in  them  all  that  possibly  can  be  attain- 
ed. 3.  Perfect  and  universal  consent  in  all, 
after  all  industry  bestowed  on  it,  for  anything 
we  know,  is  not  here  attainable,  neither  be- 
tween all  churches,  nor  all  persons  in  one 
and  the  same  church  ;  and  therefore,  though 
church-meetings  and  synods,  as  the  filtesi 
and  most  effectual  way  to  this  unity,  should 
endeavor  to  bring  the  church  to  the  fullesi 
agreement  that  may  be,  yet  they  should  be- 
ware lest  the  straining  it  too  high  in  all 
things  rather  break  it,  and  an  over-diligence 
in  appointing  uniformities  remove  them  fur- 
ther from  it.  Leaving  a  latitude  and  indif- 
ferency in  things  capable  of  it,  is  often  t 


Ver.  8.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


213 


stronger  preservjr  of  peace  and  unity.  But 
this  by  the  way.  We  will  rather  give  some 
few  rules  that  may  be  of  use  to  every  par- 
ticuhir  Christian,  toward  this  common  Chris- 
tian g-ood  of  unity  of  mind. 

1st,  Beware  of  two  extremes,  which  often 
cause  divisions,  captivity  to  custom  on  the 
one  hand,  and  affectation  of  novelty  on  the 
other. 

2iny,  Labor  for  a  staid  mind,  that  will  not 
be  tossed  with  every  wind  of  doctrine,  or  ap- 
pearance of  reason,  as  some  who,  like  vanes, 
are  easily  blown  to  any  side  with  mistakes 
of  the  Scriptures,  either  arising  in  their  own 
minds  or  suggested  by  others. 

3d!y,  In  unclear  and  doubtful  things  be 
not  pertinacious,  as  the  weakest  minds  are 
readiest  to  be  upon  seeming  reason,  which, 
whpu  tried,  will  possibly  fall  to  nothinor:  yet 
ihev  are  most  assured,  and  can  not  suffer  a 
different  thought  in  any  from  their  own. 
There  is  naturally  this  pnpenexs  in  every 
man's  mind,  and  most,  I  say,  in  the  shallow- 
est :  a  kind  of  fancied  uifdlhlnhty  in  them- 
selves, which  makes  them  content loua  (con- 
trary to  the  apostle's  rule,  Phil.  ii.  3,  Let 
riothing  he  done  throi/f^h  strife  or  vain  glory), 
and  as  earnest  upon  differing  in  the  smallest 
punctilio  as  in  a  high  article  of  faith. 
Stronger  spirits  are  usually  more  patient  of 
contradiction,  and  less  violent,  especially  in 
doubtful  things  ;  and  they  who  see  furthest 
are  least  peremptory  in  their  determinations. 
The  apostle,  in  his  second  epistle  to  Timothy, 
hath  a  word,  the  spirit  of  a  sound  mind:  it 
is  a  good,  sound  constitution  of  mind  not  to 
feel  every  blast,  either  of  seeming  reason  to 
be  taken  with  it,  or  of  cross  opinion  to  be  of- 
fended at  it. 

Athhj,  Join  that  which  is  there,  the  spirit 
of  love,  in  this  particular:  not  ai  all  abating 
affeciion  for  every  ii^ht  difference.  And  this 
the  most  are  a  little  to  blame  in  ;  wliereas 
the  abundance  of  that  should  raihor  fill  up 
the  gap  of  these  petty  disagreements,  that 
they  do  not  ap[)ear,  nor  be  at  all  sensibly  to 
be  found.  No  more  disaffection  ought  to  fol- 
low this,  than  the  difference  of  our  faces  and 
Cf)mplexion«,  or  feature  of  body,  which  can 
not  be  found  in  any  two  alike  in  all  things. 

And  these  things  w^uld  be  of  easier  per- 
suasion, if  we  considered,  1.  How  supple  and 
flexible  a  thing  human  reason  is,  and  ihere- 
fore  not  lightly  to  be  trusted  to,  especially  in 
Divine  things;  for  here,  we  know  hut  in  part. 
1  Cor.  xiii.  9.  2.  The  small  importance  of 
some  things  that  have  bred  much  noise  and 
dissension  in  the  world,  as  the  aposile  speaks 
o;'  he  tongue.  How  little  a  spark,  how  great 
a  fire  vnll  it  kindle  ;  James  iii.  n.  And  a 
great  manv  of  those  debates  which  cost  men 
so  much  pains  and  time,  are  as  far  from  clear 
decision  as  when  they  boiran,  and  are  possi- 
bly of  so  little  moment,  that  if  iliey  were 
ended  th  eir  profit  would  not  C|uit  the  cost. 
i.  Consider  the  strenirih  of  Christian  charity, 
which,  if  it  dwelt  much  in  our  hearts,  would 


preserve  this  union  of  mind  amid  very  many 
different  thoughts,  such  as  they  may  be,  and 
would  teach  us  that  excellent  lesson  the 
apostle  gives  to  this  purpose,  Phil.  iii.  15: 
Let  us  therefore,  as  many  as  be  perfect,  be 
thus  minded :  and  if  in  anything  ye  be  other- 
icise  minded,  God  shall  reveal  even  this  unto 
yon.  Nevertheless,  whereto  ice  have  already 
attained,  let  us  walk  by  the  same  rule,  let  us 
mind  the  same  thina-.  Let  us  follow  our  Lord 
unanimously  in  what  he  hath  clearly  mani- 
fested to  us,  and  given  us  with  one  consent  to 
embrace  ;  as  the  spheres,  notwithstanding 
each  one  hath  its  particular  motion,  yet  all 
are  wheeled  about  together  with  the  first. 

And  this  leads  us  to  consider  the  further 
extent  of  this  word,  to  agree  in  heart  and  in 
conversation,  walking  by  the  rule  of  those 
undoubted  truths  we  have  received.    And  in 
j  this  I  shall  recommend  these  two  things  to 
I  you : 

1.  In  the  defence  of  the  truth,  as  the  Lord 
shall  call  us,  let  us  be  of  one  mind,  and  all  as 
one  man.  Satan  acts  by  that  maxim,  and  all 
his  followers  have  h.  Divide  and  con'/uer ; 
and  therefore  let  us  hold  that  counter-maxim, 
Union  invincible. 
I  2.  In  the  practice  of  that  truth,  agree  as 
one.  Let  your  conversation  be  uniform,  by 
being  squared  to  that  one  rule,  and  in  all 
spiritual  exercises  join  as  one  ;  be  of  one 
heart  and  mind.  Would  not  our  public  wor- 
ship, think  you,  prove  much  more  both  com- 
fortable and  profitable,  if  our  hearts  met  in  it 
as  one,  so  we  would  say  of  our  hearing  the 
word,  as  he,  Acts  x.  33,  }Ve  are  all  here 
present  before  God,  to  hear  all  things  thai  arc 
commanded  of  God? — if  our  ])rayers  ascend- 
ed up  as  one  pillar  of  incense  to  the  throne 
of  grace  ;  if  they  besieged  it,  as  an  army,  sli- 
pnlo  agmine  Deum  obsiilcntes,  as  Tertullian 
speaks,  all  surrounding  it  together  to  obtain 
favor  for  ourselves  and  the  church  ?  This  is 
much  with  God,  the  consent  of  hearts  peti- 
tioning. Fama  est  junctas  fortius  ire  prec.es  : 
It  is  believed  that  united  prayers  ascend  with 
greater  eflicacy.  So  says  our  Savior,  Matt, 
xviii.  20  :  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered 
— not  their  bodies  within  the  same  wall  onlv, 
for  so  they  are  but  so  many  carcasses  tum- 
bled together,  apd  the  promise  of  his  being 
among  us  is  not  made  to  that,  for  he  is  the 
God  of  the  living  and  not  of  the  dead.  Matt, 
xxii.  32  :  it  is  the  spirit  of  darkness  that  abides 
'  among  the  tombs  and  graves  :  but — gathered 
in  mi/  name,  one  in  that  one  holy  name,  writ 
ten  upon  their  hearts,  and  unitiri?  them,  and 
I  so  thence  expressed  in  their  joint  sfrvicfs  and 
1  invocations.  So  he  says  there  of  them  who 
agree  upon  anythin>r  they  shall  ask  {m,i„p„ti,i,- 
I  Tiiwi,.)  if  all  their  hearts  present  and  hold  it 
.  up  together,  if  they  make  one  cry  or  song  of 
;  it,  that  harmony  of  their  hearts  shall  be 
sweet  in  the  Lord's  ears,  and  shall  draw  a 
gracious  answer  out  of  his  hand  :  if  ye  agree, 
your  joint  jietitions  shall  be  as  it  v.-ere  an  ar- 
rest or  decree  that  shall  stand  in  heaven:  it 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  Ill 


shall  he  dont  for  them  of  my  Father  which  is 
in  heaven.  But  alas!  wlu're  is  our  aarrei'- 
nieiit  ?  The  greater  number  of  hearts  say 
noiliinsf,  and  others  speak  witli  such  waver- 
ing and  such  a  jarring  harsh  noise,  being  out 
ol'tuue,  eanhiy,  loo  low  set,  that  they  spoil 
all,  and  disappoint  tiie  answers.  Were  the 
censer  tilled  with  those  united  pravers  heav- 
enward, it  would  be  filled  with  fire  earth- 
ward against  the  enemies  of  the  church. 

And  in  yourprivaie  society  seek  unaninious- 
y  your  own  and  each  other's  spiritual  good  ; 
not  only  agreeing  in  your  affairs  and  civ  il  con- 
verse, but  having  om:  heart  and  mind  as  Chris- 
tians. To  eat  and  drink  together,  if  you  do 
no  more,  is  such  society  as  beasts  may  have: 
to  do  these  in  the  excess,  to  eat  and  drink  in- 
temperately  lo?ether,  is  a  society  worse  than 
that  of  beasts,  and  below  them.  To  discourse 
together  of  civil  business,  is  to  converse  as 
men  ;  but  the  peculiar  converse  of  Christians 
in  that  notion,  as  born  again  to  immortality, 
an  unfading  inheritance  above,  is  to  further 
one  another  toward  that,  to  put  one  another 
in  mind  of  heaven  and  heavenly  things.  And 
it  is  strange  that  men  who  profess  to  be  Chris- 
tians, when  they  meet,  either  fill  one  another's 
ears  with  lies  and  profane  speeches,  or  with 
vanities  and  trifles,  or,  at  the  best,  with  the 
affairs  of  the  earth,  and  not  a  word  of  those 
things  that  should  most  possess  the  heart,  and 
where  the  mhid  should  be  most  set,  but  are 
ready  to  reproach  and  taunt  any  such  thing 
in  others.  What !  are  you  ashamed  of  Christ 
and  religion  ?  Why  do  you  profess  it  then  ? 
Is  there  such  a  thing,  think  ye,  as  the  com- 
mvning  of  saints?  if,  not,  why  say  you  be- 
lieve it  ?  It  is  a  truth,  think  of  it  as  you  will. 
The  public  ministry  will  profit  little  anywhere, 
where  a  people,  or  some  part  of  thein,  are  not 
thus  one,  and  do  nqt  live  together  as  of  one 
mind,  and  use  diligently  all  due  means  of 
edifying  one  another  in  their  holy  faith.  How 
much  of  the  primitives  Christians'  praise  and 
profit  is  involved  in  the  the  word.  They  were 
together  (li/i.ji/i  ./ufi.i  j  with  one  accord,  with  one 
mind  :  and  so  they  grew  :  the  Lord  added  to 
the  chvrch.    Ac's  ii.  1,  44,  47. 

Consider,  1.  How  the  wicked  are  one  in 
their  ungodly  designs  and  practices.  The 
scales  of  Leviathan,  as  Lutjier  expresses  it, 
are  Iniked  together  ;  shall  not  the  Lord's  fol- 
lowers be  one  in  him  ?  They  unite  to  under- 
mine the  peace  of  the  church;  shall  not  the 
godly  join  their  ])rayers  to  countermine  them  ? 

2.  There  is  in  the  hearts  of  all  the  saints 
one  spirit;  how  then  can  they  be  but  one? 
Since  they  have  the  same  purpose  and  journey , 
and  tend  to  the  same  home,  why  shouM  they 
not  walk  together  in  that  way  ?  When  tl  v 
shall  arrive  there,  they  shall  be  fully  one,  and 
of  one  mind,  not  a  jar  nor  difference,  all  their 
harps  perfectly  in  tune  to  that  one  new  song. 

Having  compassion.']  This  testifies,  that 
it  is  not  a  bare  speculative  agreement  of  opin- 
ions that  is  the  badije  of  Christian  unity  ;  for 
this  may  accidentally  be,  where  there  is  no 


further  union  ;  but  that  they  are  themselves 
one,  and  have  one  life,  in  that  they  feel  k  m 
it  is  one  with  another.  There  is  a  liviiig 
sympathy  among  them,  as  makmg  up  one 
body ,  animated  with  one  spirit :  for  that  is  the 
reason  why  the  members  of  the  body  have 
that  mutual  feelins,  even  the  most  remot',-  and 
distant,  and  the  most  excellent  with  the 
meanest.  This  the  apostle  urges  at  large, 
Kom.  xii.  4,  and  1  Cor.  xii.  14-17. 

And  this  lively  sense  is  in  every  living 
member  of  the  body  of  Christ  toward  the 
whole,  and  toward  each  other  particular  part. 
This  makes  a  Christian  rejoice  in  the  well'are 
and  good  of  another,  as  if  it  were  his  own, 
and  I'eel  their  griefs  and  distresses,  as  if  him- 
self were  really  a  sharer  in  them  ;  for  the 
word  comprehends  all  feeling  together,  feel- 
ing of  joy  as  well  as  grief.  Hebrews  xiii.  3  ; 
1  Cor.  xii.  26.  And  alwavs,  where  there  is 
most  of  grace  and  of  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ, 
there  is  most  of  this  symjiathy.  The  Apostle 
St.  Paul,  as  he  was  eminent  in  all  grace,  had 
a  large  portion  of  this.  2  Cor.  xi.  29.  And 
of  this  ought  to  be  in  reference  to  their  out- 
ward condition,  much  more  in  spiritual  things 
there  should  be  rejoicing  at  the  increases  and 
flourishing  of  grace  in  others.  That  base  envy 
which  dwells  in  the  hearts  of  rotten  hypo- 
crites, who  would  have  all  engrossed  to  them- 
selves, argues  that  they  move  not  further  than 
the  compass  of  se.'f ;  that  the  pure  love  of 
God,  and  the  sincere  love  of  their  brethren 
flowing  from  it,  are  not  in  them.  But  when 
the  heart  can  unfeignedly  rejoice  in  the  Lord's 
bounty  to  others,  and  the  lustre  ()f  grace  in 
others,  far  outshining  their  own,  truly  it  is  an 
evidence  that  what  erace  such  a  one  hath,  is 
upright  and  good,  and  that  the  law  of  love  is 
engraven  on  his  heart.  And  where  that  is,  there 
will  be  likewise,  on  the  other  side,  a  compas- 
sionate tender  sense  of  the  infirmities  and  frail- 
ties of  their  brethren  ;  whereas  some  account 
it  a  sign  of  much  advancement  and  spiritual 
proficiency,  to  be  able  to  sit  in  judgment  upon 
the  qualifications  and  actions  of  others,  and 
to  lavish  out  severe  censures  round  about 
them:  to  srnten'-e  one  w-^ak  and  of  poor 
abilities,  and  another  proud  and  lofty,  and  a 
third  covetous,  <^c.  ;  and  thus  to  go  on  in  a 
censor-like  magisterial  strain.  But  it  were 
truly  an  evidence  of  more  grace,  not  to  get 
upon  the  bench  to  judere  them,  but  to  sit  down 
rather  and  mourn  for  'them,  when  they  are 
manifestly  and  really  faulty,  and  as  for  their 
ordinary  infirmities,  to  consider  and  bear  them. 
These  are  the  characters  we  find  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, of  ^'ronger  Christians,  Rom.  xv.  1  ; 
Gal.  vi.  1  /Iris  holy  and  humble  sympa'.hy 
argues  indeed  a  strong  Christian.  jStl  tarn 
spiritua/em  virur/.  ^ndicat,  quam  peccati  alieni 
tractntio :'  Nothing  truly  shows  a  spiritual 
man  so  much,  as  the  dealing  with  another 
man''s  sin.  Far  will  he  be  from  the  ordinary 
way  of  insulting  and  trampling  upon  tht 
weak,  or  using  rigor  and  bitterness,  even 
against  some  gross  falls  of  a  Christian  :  but 


Vek.  8.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


213 


will  rather  vent  his  compassion  in  tears,  than  ! 
nis  passion  in  fiery  raiiiiigs  ;  will  bewail  the  I 
frailly  of  man,  and  our  dangerous  condition  j 
in  this  life,  amidst  so  many  snares  and  temp- 
tations, and  such  strong  and  subtle  enemies,  i 

2dly.  As  this  sympathy  works  toward  par-  j 
licular  Christians  in  their  several  conditions,  1 
so,  by  the  same  reason,  it  acts,  and  that  more  ' 
eminently,  toward  the  church,  and  the  pub- 
lic affairs  that  concern  its  good.  And  this,  vu^ 
find,  hath  breathed  forth  from  the  hearts  of  the 
saints  in  former  times,  in  so  many  pathetical 
complaints  and  pra\  ers  for  Zion.  Thus  David 
in  the  saddest  times,  when  he  might  seem 
luosi  dispensable  to  forget  other  thmgs,  and 
be  wholly  taken  up  with  lamenting  his  own 
fall,  yet,  even  there,  he  leaves  not  out  the 
church.  Psalm,  li.  17  :  In  thy  qood  pleasure, 
do  good  to  Zion.  And  though  his  heart  was 
broken  all  to  pieces,  yet  the  very  pieces  cry 
no  less  for  the  building  ol'  Jerusalem's  wall, 
than  for  the  binding  up  and  healing  of  itself. 
And  in  that  cxxiid  Psalm,  which  seems  to  be 
the  expression  of  his  joy  on  being  exalted  to 
the  throne  and  sitting  peaceably  on  it,  yet  he 
still  thus  prays  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem. 
And  the  penman  of  the  cxxxviiith  Psalni, 
makes  it  an  execrable  oversight  to  forget  Je- 
rusalem, or  to  remember  ir  coldly  or  second- 
arily :  no  less  will  serve  liim  than  to  prefer 
it  to  his  chief  joy.  Whatsoever  else  is  top  or 
head  of  his  joy  (as  the  word  is),  Jerusalem's 
welfare  shall  be  its  crown,  shall  be  set  above 
it.  And  tiie  proi)het,  whoever  it  was,  that 
wrote  that  ciid  Psalm,  and  in  it  poured  oui 
that  prayer  from  an  aflicted  soul,  comforts 
himself  in  this,  that  Zion  shall  be  favored. 
My  days  are  line  a  shadow  that  dcc/ineth,  and 
I  am  Withered  like  i^rass,  but  it  matters  not 
what  l^ecomes  of  me  ;  let  me  languish  and 
wither  away,  provided  Zion  flourish  :  though 
I  feel  nothing  but  pains  and  troubles,  yet. 
Thou  will  arise  and  show  mercy  to  Zion  :  1 
am  Qonient :  thai  satisfies  me. 

But  where  is  now  this  spirit  of  high  sym- 
pathy with  the  church  ?    Surely,  if  there 
were  any  remains  of  it  in  us,  it  is  now  a  fit 
time  to  exert  it.    If  we  be  not  alioirether 
dead,  surely  we  shall  be  stirred  with  the  <, 
voice  of  those  late  strokes  of  God's  hand,  and  i 
be  driven  to  more  huinhle  and  earnest  prayer  1 
by  it.    When  will  men  change  their  poor, 
base  grumblino'^  about  their  private  concerns. 
Oh!  what  shall  I  do?  i.\r.,  into  strong  cries  | 
for  the  church  of  God,  and  the  public  deliv- 
erance of  all  these  lyingdoms  from  the  raging 
sword?    But  vile  selfishness  undoes  us,  the 
moil  looking  no  further.    If  themselves  and  1 
•heirs  might  be  secured,  how  many  would  \ 
regard  little  what  became  of  the  rest!  As 
one  said,  when  J  am  dand  let  the  vjorld  be  j 
fired.    But  the  Christian  mind  is  of  a  larger  | 
sphere,  looks  not  only  upon  more  than  itself  i 
n  present,  but  even  to  afttir  times  and  ages,  | 
and  can  re|i)ice  in  the  good  to  come,  when 
itself  shall  not  be  here  to  partake  of  it:  it  is 
more  dilated,  and  liker  unto  God,  and  to  our 


head,  Jesus  Christ.  The  Lord,  says  the 
prophet,  Isa.  Ixiii.  9,  in  all  his  people\<;  af- 
fliction, teas  afflicted  himself.  And  Jesu* 
Christ  accounts  the  sufferings  of  his  body 
the  church,  his  own  :  Saul,  Saul,  why  perse- 
cutest  thou  me  ?  Acts  ix.  4.  The  heel  was 
trod  upon  on  earth,  and  the  head  crieth  from 
heaven,  as  sensible  of  it.  And  this  in  all  our 
evils,  especially  our  spiritual  griefs,  isa  high 
point  of  comfort  to  us,  that  our  Lord  Jesus  is 
not  insensible  of  them.  This  emboldens  us 
to  complain  ourselves,  and  to  put  in  our  peti- 
tions for  help  to  the  throne  of  grace,  through 
his  hand,  knowing  that  when  he  presents 
them,  he  will  speak  his  own  sense  of  our 
condition,  and  move  for  us  as  it  were  for  him- 
self, as  we  have  it  sweetly  expressed,  Heb. 
iv.  15,  16.  Now,  as  it  is  our  comfort,  so  it  is 
our  pattern. 

Love  as  brethren.]  Hence  springs  this 
feeling  we  speak  of:  love  is  the  cause  of 
union,  and  union  the  cause  of  sympathy,  and 
of  that  unanimity  mentioned  before.  They 
who  have  the  same  spirit  uniting  and  ani- 
mating them,  can  not  but  have  the  same 
mind  and  the  same  feelini,s.  And  this  spirit 
is  derived  from  that  head,  Christ,  in  whom 
Christians  live,  and  move,  and  have  their  he- 
inrr,  their  new  and  excellent  being,  and  so, 
living  in  him,  they  love  him,  and  arc  one  in 
him  :  they  are  brethren,  as  here  the  word  is  ; 
their  fraternity  holds  in  him.  He  is  the 
head  of  it,  the  first-born  omonu:  many  breth- 
ren, Rom.  viii.  29.  I^len  are  brethren  in  two 
natural  respects,  their  bodies  are  of  the  same 
earth,  and  their  souls  breathed  from  the  same 
God  :  l)Ut  this  third  fraternity  which  is  found- 
ed in  Christ,  is  far  more  excellent  and  more 
firm  than  the  other  two:  for  being  one  in 
him,  they  have  there  taken  in  the  other  two, 
inasmuch  as  in  him  is  our  whole  nature:  he 
is  the  man  Christ  Jesns.  But  to  the  advan- 
tage, and  it  is  an  infinite  one,  of  being  one  in 
him,  we  are  united  to  the  divine  nature  in 
him,  who  is  God  blessed  for  ever,  Rom.  ix.  5  ; 
and  this  is  the  highest,  certainlv,  and  the 
strongest  union  that  can  be  iinagined.  Now 
this  is  a  arrat  mystery,  indeed,  as  the  apos- 
tle says,  Eph.  v.  32,  speaking  of  this  same 
point,  the  union  of  Christ  and  his  church, 
whence  their  uni/)n  and  communion  one  with 
another,  who  make  up  thai  body,  the  church, 
is  derived.  In  Christ  every  believer  is  born 
of  tind,  is  his  son  :  and  so,  they  are  not  only 
brethren,  one  with  another,  who  are  so  born, 
but  Christ  himsell'  owns  them  as  his  breth- 
ren :  Both  he  who  sanctifies,  and  they  who 
are  .sanctified,  are  all  of  one,  for  which  cause 
he  IS  not  ashamed  to  call  them  brethren. 
Heb.  ii.  11. 

Sin  broke  all  to  pieces,  man  from  God,  and 
men  from  one  another.  Christ's  work  in 
the  world  was,  union.  To  make  up  these 
breaches  he  camedow"  and  began  the  union 
which  was  his  woih,  in  the  wonderful  union 
made  in  bis  person  that  was  to  work  it,  ma- 
king (lod  and  man  one.    And  as  the  nature 


214 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Cha?.  III. 


of  man  was  reconciled,  so,  by  what  lie  per- 
foriiu'tl,  till'  piTsons  of  men  are  united  to  (lod. 
Faiili  makes  them  one  with  Christ,  and  lie 
makes  them  one  with  the  Father,  and  ht>nce 
results  this  oneness  amon£r  themselves  :  eon-  ' 
ceniriuir  aiul  meeiins  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  in  ' 
the  Father  lhroui;h  him,  ihev  are  made  one 
toi.'ether.  And  that  this  was  liis  srreat  work, 
we  may  read  in  his  prayer,  John  x^'ii.,  where 
it  is  the  burden  and  main  strain,  the  great  re- 
quest he  so  reiterates,  T/iat  thry  nuiy  be  one, 
as  we  are  one,  ver.  11.  A  hii;h  comparison, 
such  as  man  durst  not  name,  but  after  him 
who  so  warrants  us!  And  again,  ver.  21, 
That  they  all  may  be  one,  as  thou,  Father, 
art  in  rne,  and  I  in  thee,  that  thei/  also  may 
be  one  in  us. 

So  that  certainly,  where  this  exists,  it  is 
ihe  ground  work  of  another  kind  of  friend- 
ship and  love  than  the  world  is  accjuainted 
with,  or  is  able  to  judge  of,  and  iiath  more 
worth  in  one  drachm  of  it,  than  all  the  quint- 
essence of  civil  or  natural  alfeciion  can 
amount  to.  The  i'riendships  of  the  world, 
the  best  ol'them,  are  but  tied  with  chains  of 
^lass  ;  but  this  fraternal  love  ol'  Christians  is 
1  golden  chain,  both  more  precious,  and  more 
strong  and  lasting  ;  the  others  are  worthless 
and  brittle. 

The  Christian  owes  and  pays  the  general 
charity  and  good  will  to  all ;  but  peculiar  and 
intimate  frii'ndship  he  can  not  have,  except 
with  such  as  come  within  the  compass  of  this 
fraternal  love,  which,  alter  a  s[)ecial  manner, 
flows  from  God,  and  returns  to  him,  and 
abides  in  hiin,  and  shall  remain  unto  eternitv. 

Where  this  love  is  and  abounds,  it  will 
banish  far  away  all  those  dissensions  and  bit- 
ternesses, and  those  I'rivolous  mistakings, 
which  are  so  frequent  among  most  persons. 
It  will  teach  men  wisely  and  gently  to  ad- 
monish one  another,  where  it  is  needful  :  but 
further  than  that,  it  will  [)ass  by  many  offen- 
ces and  failings,  it  will  cover  a  multitude  of 
sins,  and  will  very  much  sweeten  society, 
making  it  truly  profitable;  therefore,  the 
psalmist  calls  it  both  anod  and  pleasant,  that 
brethren  dwell  together  !?t  unit  1/  ;  it  perfumes 
all,  as  the  precious  ointment  upon  the  head 
of  Aart>n.    Psalm  cxxxiii.  2,  3. 

But  many  who  are  ('ailed  Chrisiians  are  not 
indeed  of  tiiis  brotherhood,  and  therefore,  no 
wonder  they  know  not  what  this  love  means, 
but  are  either  of  restless,  unquiet  spirits, 
biting  and  devouring  one  another,  as  the 
apostle  speaks,  or,  at  the  best,  only  civilly 
smooth  and  peaceable  in  their  carriage,  rather 
scorners  than  i)artakers  of  this  s})iriiual  love 
apd  Iraterniiy.  These  are  strangers  to  Christ, 
not  brought  into  actjuaintancc  and  union  with 
him,  and  therefore  void  of  the  life  of  grace, 
afld  the  fruits  of  it,  whereof  this  is  a  chief 
one.  Oh  !  how  few  among  multitudes  that 
throng  in  as  we  do  here  together,  are  indeed 
partakers  of  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons 
of  God,  or  ambitious  of  that  high  and  happy 
esia'^  1 


AS  for  you  that  know  these  tilings,  and 
have  a  portion  in  them,  who  have  your  com- 
mvnion  with  the  Father,  and  his  Son  Jesus 
Christ,  1  John  i.  3,  I  beseech  you  adorn  your 
holy  profession,  and  testify  yourselves  the 
disci])les  and  the  brethren  of  Jesus  Christ,  by 
this  mutual  love.  Seek  to  understand  bettei 
whiit  it  is,  and  to  know  it  more  practically. 
Consider  that  source  of  love,  that  love  nntfh 
ilie  Father  hath  bestowed  upon  us,  in  tn(», 
that  ire  should  be  called  the  sons  of  God, 
1  John  iii.  1,  and  so  be  brethren,  and  thence 
draw  more  of  this  sweet  stream  of  love.  God 
is  love,  says  the  same  apostle ;  therefore, 
surely,  where  there  is  most  of  God,  there  is 
most  of  this  divine  grace,  this  holy  love. 
Look  upon  and  study  much  that  infinite  love 
of  God  and  his  son  Jesus  Christ  toward  us. 
Jle  gave  his  only  begotten  Son  ;  the  Son  gave 
himself;  he  sweetened  his  bitter  cup  with 
his  transcendani  love,  and  this  he  hath  rec- 
ommended to  us,  that  even  as  he  loved  us^,  so 
should  we  love  one  another.  John  xv.  12.  We 
know  we  can  not  reach  this  highest  pattern  ; 
that  is  not  meant ;  but  the  more  we  look  on 
it,  the  higher  we  shall  reach  in  this  love,  and 
shall  learn  some  measure  of  such  love  on 
earth,  as  is  in  heaven  ;  and  that  which  so  be- 
gins here,  shall  there  be  perfected. 

Be  pitiful,  he  courteous.]  The  roots  of 
plants  are  hidden  under  ground,  so  that  them- 
selves are  not  seen,  but  they  ap)iear  in  their 
branches,  and  flowers,  and  fruits,  which 
argue  there  is  a  root  and  life  in  them  :  thus, 
the  graces  of  the  Spirit  ])lanted  in  the  soul, 
though  themselves  invisible,  yet  discover 
their  being  and  life  in  the  tract  of  a  Chris- 
tian's life,  his  words,  and  actions,  and  the 
frame  of  his  carriage.  Thus  faith  shows 
that  it  lives,  as  the  Apostle  St.  James  teach- 
eth  at  large,  Jam.  ii.  14,  <5fc.  And  thus  love 
is  a  grace  of  so  active  a  nature,  that  it  is  still 
working,  and  yet  never  weary.  Your  labor 
of  love,  says  the  apostle,  Heh.  vi.  10;  it  la- 
bors, but  delight  makes  the  hardest  labor 
sweet  and  easy.  And  so  proper  is  action  to 
it,  that  all  action  is  null  without  it.  1  Cor. 
xiii.  1-3.  Yea,  it  knils  faith  and  action  to- 
gether ;  it  is  the  link  that  unites  them.  Faith 
worketh,  but  it  is,  as  the  apostle  teaches  us, 
by  love.  Gal.  V.  6.  So,  then,  where  this  root 
is,  these  fruits  will  spring  from  it  and  dis- 
cover it,  pity  and  courtesy. 

These  are  of  a  larger  extent  in  their  full 
s[)here,  than  the  jjreceding  graces  ;  for,  i'rom 
a  general  love  due  to  all,  they  act  toward  all, 
to  men,  or  humanity,  in  the  general ;  and  this 
not  from  a  bare  natural  tenderness,  which 
softer  comjilexions  may  have,  nor  from  a  pru- 
dent moral  consideration  of  their  possible  fal- 
ling under  the  like  or  greater  calamities,  but 
out  of  obedience  to  God,  who  requires  this 
mercifulness  in  all  his  children,  and  can  not 
own  them  for  his,  unless  in  this  they  resem- 
ble him.  And  it  is  indeed  an  evidence  of  a 
truly  (Christian  mind,  to  have  much  of  this 
pity' to  the  miseries  of  all,  being  rightly  prin- 


Ver.  8.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


215 


cipled,  and  acting  after  a  pious  and  Christian  ] 
manner  toward  the  sick  and  j)oor,  of  what 
condition  soever;  yea,  pitying  most  the  spir- 
itual misery  of  ungodly  men,  tiieir  hardness 
of  heart,  and  unbelief,  and  earnestly  wishing' 
their  conversion  ;  not  repining  at  the  long 
suffering  ol'God,  as  if  thou  wouldst  have  the 
bridge  cut  because  thou  art  over,  as  S;.  Au- 
gustine speaks,  but  longing  rather  to  see  that 
long  suffering  and  goodness  of  God  lead  them 
to  repentance,  Rom.  ii.  4 :  being  grieved  to 
see  men  ruining  themselves,  and  diligently  j 
working  their  own  destruction,  going  in  any  i 
way  of  wickedness  (as  Solomon  speaks  of  one  j 
particularly),  as  an  ox  to  the  slaughter,  or  a  I 
fool  to  the  correction  of  the  stocks,  Prov,  vii.  ' 
22.    Certainly,  the  ungodly  man  is  an  object 
of  the  highest  pity.  | 

But  there  is  a  special  debt  of  this  pity  to 
those  whom  we  love  as  brethren  in  our  Lord 
Jesus:  they  are  inost  closely  linked  to  us  by 
a  peculiar  fraternal  love.  Their  sufferings 
and  calamities  will  move  the  bowels  that 
have  Christian  affection  within  them.  Nor 
is  it  an  empty,  helpless  pity,  but  carries  with  I 
it  the  real  communication  of  our  help  to  our 
utmost  power.  [h^^rrUyxPo,.]  Not  only  bowels 
that  are  moved  themselves  with  pity,  but  that  [ 
move  the  hand  to  succor  ;  for  by  tiiis  word, 
the  natural  affection  of  parents,  and  of  the 
more  lender  parent,  the  mother,  is  expressed, 
who  do  not  idly  behold  and  bemoan  their 
children  being  sick  or  distressed,  but  provide 
all  possible  help  ;  their  bowels  are  not  only 
stirred,  but  dilated  and  enlarged  tcnvard  them. 

And  if  our  feeling  bowels  and  helping  hand 
are  due  to  all,  and  ])arlicularly  to  the  godly, 
and  we  ouirht  to  pay  this  debt  in  outward 
distresses,  how  much  more  in  iheir  soul-af- 
flictions! the  rather,  because  these  are  most 
heavy  in  themselves,  and  least  understood, 
and  therefore  least  regarded  :  yt-a,  soineiimes 
rendered  yet  heavier  by  natural  friends,  pos- 
sibly by  their  bitter  scoffs  and  taunts,  or  by 
their  slighting,  or,  at  best,  by  their  misapply- 
ing of  [)r()pfr  helps  and  remedies,  which,  as 
unfit  medicines,  do  rather  exasperate  the  dis- 
ease ;  therefore  they  that  do  understand,  and 
can  be  sensible  of  that  kind  of  wound,  ou^rht 
so  much  the  nicire  to  be  tender  and  pitiful  , 
toward  it,  and  to  deal  mercifully  and  gentlv 
\yith  It.  It  may  be,  very  weak  things  some- j 
times  trouble  a  weak  Christian  ;  but  there  is 
in  the  spirit  of  ihe  godly,  an  humble  conde- 1 
scension  learned  from  Christ,  wiio  broke  not 
the  bruised  reed,  nor  quenched  the  smaking 
fat. 

The  least  difficulties  and  scruples  in  a 
tender  conscience,  should  not  be  roughly  en- 
countered :  they  are  as  a  knot  in  a  silken 
thread,  and  require  a  gentle  and  wary  band 
to  loose  them.  1 

No.v,  this  tenderness  of  b  iwels  and  incli- 
nation  to  |)ity  all,  especially  Christians,  and  i 
them  especially  in  tlif- ir  i)eculiar  pressures,  is  j 
not  a  weakness,  as  some  kind  of  spirits  lake  j 
.1  to  be;  this,  even  naturally,  is  a  generous  i 


pity  in  the  greatest  spirits.  Christian  pity  is 
not  womanish,  yea,  it  is  more  than  manly, 
is  Divine.  There  is  of  natural  pity  most  in 
the  best  and  most  ingenuous  natures,  but 
where  it  is  spiritual,  it  is  a  prime  lineament 
of  the  image  of  God  ;  and  the  more  absolute 
and  disengaged  it  is,  in  regard  of  those  tow- 
ard whom  It  acts,  the  more  it  is  like  unto 
God  ;  looking  upon  misery  as  a  sufficient  in- 
centive of  pity  and  mercy,  without  tiie  ingre- 
dient of  any  other  consideration.  It  is  merely 
a  vulvar  piece  of  goodness,  to  be  helpf  ul  and 
bountiful  to  friends,  or  to  such  as  are  within 
appearance  of  requital ;  it  is  a  trading  kind 
of  commerce  that :  but  pity  and  bounty,  which 
need  no  inducements  but  the  meeting  of  a  ht 
object  to  work  on.  where  it  can  expect  noth- 
ing, save  only  the  privilege  of  doing  good 
(which  in  itself  is  so  sweet),  is  Godlike  in- 
deed. He  is  rich  in  bounty  without  any  ne- 
cessity, yea,  or  possibility  of  return  from  us  ; 
for  we  have  neither  anything  to  confer  upon 
him,  nor  hath  he  need  of  receiving  anything, 
who  is  the  Spring  of  goodness  and  of  being. 

And  that  we  may  the  better  understand 
him  in  this,  he  is  pleased  to  express  this  his 
merciful  nature  in  our  notion  and  language, 
by  liowels  of  mercy  and  pity,  Isa.  liv.  7,  S,  and 
the  stirring  and  sovndmg  of  them,  Hos.  xi. 
8  ;  by  the  pity  of  a  father,  Psalin  ciii.  13,  and 
by  that  of  a  mother,  Isa.  xlix.  15  ;  as  if  noth- 
ing could  be  tender  and  significant  enough  to 
ex[)ress  his  compassions.  Hence,  our  redemp- 
tion, Isa.  Ixiii.  9  ;  hence,  all  our  hopes  of  hap- 
piness. The  gracious  Lord  saw  his  poor  crea- 
tures undone  by  sin,  and  no  ])o\ver  in  heaven 
or  on  earth  able  to  rescue  them,  but  his  own 
alone  :  therefore  his  pity  was  moved,  and  his 
hand  answers  his  heart.  Ilis  own  arm  linuight 
salvation  ;  he  sent  the  deliverer  out  of  Zion, 
to  turn  away  iniquity  from  Jacob.  Romans  xi. 
26.  And  in  all  exigencies  of  his  children,  he 
is  overcome  with  their  complaints,  and  can 
not  hold  out  against  their  moaniiigs.  He  may, 
as  Joseph,  seem  strange  for  a  while,  but  can 
not  act  that  straii<,'eness  long.  His  heart 
moves  and  sounds  to  theirs,  gives  the  echo  to 
their  griefs  and  groans  ;  as  they  say  of  two 
strings  that  are  perfect  unisons,  touch  the  one, 
the  other  also  sounds.  Surely  I  have  heard 
Kphraim  bemoaning  himself.  .  .  .  h  Kphraiin 
my  dear  son?  Jer.  xxxi.  18.  Oh!  the  un- 
s[K'akable  privilee'e  to  have  him  for  our  Fa- 
ther, who  is  the  Frilhcr  of  mercies  and  com- 
passions, and  those  not  barren,  fruitless  pity- 
mgs,  for  he  is  withal  the  God  of  all  consola' 
tions.  Do  not  think  that  he  can  shut  out  a 
bleeding  soul  that  comes  to  him,  or  refuse  to 
take,  aiul  to  bind  up,  and  heal  a  broken  heart 
that  offers  itself  to  Ii'mi,  i)Uts  itself  into  his 
hand,  and  entreats  his  .elp.  Doth  he  re(|uire 
[lily  of  us,  and  doth  he  give  it  to  us,  and  is  it 
not  inlinitely  more  in  himself?  All  that  is  in 
angels  and  men,  is  but  an  insensible  drop  to 
that  Ocean. 

Let  Us  iken  consider,  that  we  are  obliged 
both  to  pity,  especially  toward  our  Christian 


116 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  TilE 


rCHiii.  III. 


brethren,  and  to  use  all  means  for  their  help 
within  our  rcin'ii  :  to  iiave  bowels  stirred  with 
'he  rej)ons  of  such  hlondshetls  and  cruelties 
as  come  to  our  ears,  and  to  bestir  ourselves 
according  to  our  places  and  power  for  them. 
Hut  surely  all  are  to  move  this  one  way  for 
their  help,  to  run  to  the  Tltroiir  of  Grtice.  If 
your  buwels  sound  lor  your  brethren,  let  them 
sound  that  way  lor  them,  to  represent  their 
estate  to  Him  who  is  hiijhest,  lioih  in  jiity  and  ! 
in  power,  fur  he  expects  to  be  reniemi)ered 
by  us:  he  put  that  office  upon  his  people,  to 
be  his  recorders  for  Zion,  and  iliey  are  trai- 
tors to  it  who  neglect  the  discharge  of  th^t 
trust. 

Courteous.'\  The  former  relates  to  the  af- 
flictions of  others,  this  to  our  whole  carriage 
with  them  in  any  condition.  And  yet,  there 
is  a  pariicular  regard  to  be  jiaid  to  it  in  com- 
t-tinicating  good,  in  supplyinij  their  wants, 
c  comforting  them  that  are  distressed  :  that 
ii  be  not  done,  or  rather,  I  may  say,  undone 
ii  doing,  with  sucli  supercilious  roughness, 
V  .'Hting  itself  either  in  looks  or  words,  or  any 
vay,  as  sours  it,  and  destroys  the  verv  lieing 
Ol  a  benefit,  and  turns  it  rather  intoan  injury. 
And  generally,  the  whole  conversation  of  men 
is  made  unpleasant  by  cynical  harshness  and 
disdain. 

This  courteousness  which  the  apostle  rec- 
ommends, is  contrary  to  that  evil,  not  only  in 
the  surtace  and  outward  behavior .  no  :  reli- 
gion doth  not  prescribe,  nor  is  satisfied  with 
such  courtesy  as  goes  no  deeper  than  words 
and  gestures,  wiiich  sometimes  is  most  con- 
trary to  that  singleness  which  religion  owns. 
These  are  the  upper  garments  of  malice:  sa- 
luting him  aloud  in  the  mornins:,  whom  thev 
are  undermining  all  the  day.  Or  sometimes, 
though  more  innocent,  yet  it  may  he  trouble- 
some, merely  by  the  vain  affectation  and  ex- 
cess of  it.  Even  this  becomes  not  a  wise 
man,  much  less  a  Chrisiian.  An  overstudv 
or  acting  of  that,  is  a  token  of  emptiness,  and 
is  below  a  solid  mind.  Though  Christians 
know  such  things,  and  could  outdo  the  stud- 
iers  of  it,  yet  they  (as  it  indeed  deserves)  do 
despise  it.  Nor  is  it  that  graver  and  wiser 
way  of  external  pj^ausible  deportment,  that 
answers  fully  this  word  :  it  is  the  outer  half, 
indeed,  but  the  thing  is  [t>i\-"Po  m;;'\  a  radical 
sweetness  in  the  temper  of  the  mind,  that 
spreads  itself  into  a  man's  words  and  actions  : 
and  this  not  merely  natural,  a  g-entle,  kind 
disposition  (which  is  indeed  a  natural  advan- 
tii^e  that  some  have),  hut  this  is  s|)iritual,  a 
new  nature  descended  from  heaven,  and  so,  in 
its  original  and  kind,  far  excelling  the  other : 
it  supplies  it  where  it  is  not  in  nature,  and 
doth  not  only  increase  it  where  it  is,  but  ele- 
vates it  abt)ve  itself,  renews  it,  and  sets  a 
more  excellent  stamp  upon  it.  Religion  is  in 
this  mistaken  sometimes,  in  that  men  think 
it  imprints  an  unkindly  roughness  and  aus- 
terity upon  the  mind  and  carriage.  Tt  doth 
indeed  bar  and  banish  all  vanity  and  light- 
ness, and  all  compliance  and  easy  jjartaking 


with  sin.  Religion  strains,  and  quite  breaks 
that  point  ot  false  and  injurious  courtesy,  to 
sutler  thy  brother's  soul  icj  run  the  hazard  of 
perishing,  and  to  share  in  his  guiltiness,  bj 
not  admonishing  him  after  that  seasonable, 
and  prudent,  and  gentle  maimer  (for  that  in- 
deed should  be  studied)  which  becomes  thee 
as  a  Christian,  and  that  jiarticular  respective 
manner  which  becomes  ihy  station.  These 
things  rightly  (lualifying  it,  it  doth  no  wrong' 
to  good  manners  and  the  courtesy  here  en- 
joined, but  is  truly  a  part  of  it,  by  due  admo- 
ni lions  and  reproofs  to  seek  to  reclaim  a  sin- 
ner; for  it  were  the  worst  unkindness  not  to 
do  it.  Thou  sha/t  not  hate  tliy  brother,  thou 
shall  in  anywise  rebuke  thy  brother,  and  nol 
suffer  sin  upon  him.  Levii.  xix.  17. 

But  tliat  whicii  is  true  lovingness  of  heart 
and  carriage,  religion  doth  not  only  in  no  way 
prejudice,  but  you  see  requires  it  in  the  rule, 
and  where  it  is  wrought  in  the  heart,  works 
and  causes  it  there  ;  fetches  out  that  crooked- 
ness and  harshness  which  are  otherwise  in- 
vincible in  some  humors:  EmoUil  mores,  nec 
sunt  esse  feros:  Makes  the  %rolf  dwell  with  thn 
lamb.  This  Christians  should  study,  and  be- 
lie the  prejudices  which  the  world  take  up 
against  the  jiowers  of  godliness  ;  they  should 
study  to  be  mwardly  so  minded,  and  of  such 
outward  behavior,  as  becomes  that  Sjnrit  of 
Grace  which  dwells  in  them,  endeavoring  to 
gain  those  that  are  without,  by  .neir  kind, 
obliging  conversation. 

In  some  copies,  it  is  \Ta-T'ivHn<nc^\  humble  ; 
and  indeed,  as  this  is  excellent  in  itself,  and 
a  chief  characteristic  of  a  Christian,  it  agrees 
well  with  all  those  mentioned,  and  carries 
along  with  it  this  inward  and  real,  not  acted 
courteousness.  Not  to  insist  on  it  now,  it 
gains  at  all  hands  with  God  and  with  men  ; 
receives  much  grace  from  God,  and  kills  envy, 
and  commands  respect  and  good  will  from 
men. 

Those  showers  of  grace  that  slide  off  from 
the  lofiy  mountains,  rest  on  the  valleys,  and 
make  them  fruitful.  He  giveth  grace  to  the 
lou'li/,  loves  to  bestow  it  where  there  is  most 
room  to  receive  it,  and  most  return  of  ingenu- 
ous and  entire  praises  upon  the  receipt,  and 
such  is  the  htimble  heart.  And  truly,  as 
much  humility  gains  much  grace,  so  it  grows 
by  it. 

'  It  is  one  of  the  world's  reproaches  against 
those  who  go  beyond  their  size  in  religion, 
that  they  are  proud  and  self-conceited.  Cliris- 
tians,  beware  there  be  nothing  in  you  justify- 
ing tills.  Common  knowledge  and  gifts  may 
jjvjf  up,  but  grace  does  not. 

lie  whom  the  Lord  loads  most  with  his  rich- 
est gifts,  stoops  lowest,  as  pressed  down  with 
the  weight  of  them.  Jlle  est  (jui  superbire  nes- 
cit,  cui  Deus  ostrndit  rniscricordinm  suam 
The  free  love  of  God  humbles  that  heart  mos. 
to  which  it  is  most  manifested. 

And  toward  men,  humility  graces  all  grace 
and  all  gifts:  it  glorifies  God,  and  teaches 
so  to  do.   It  hconservatrix  virluluni,  the  pre- 


Ver.  L).1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


217 


servei  of  gracs.  Sometimes  it  seems  to 
wrong  them  by  liiding  them  ;  but  indeed,  it 
IS  their  safety.  Hezekiah,  by  a  vain  showing 
of  his  jewels  and  treasures,  forfeited  them  all : 
Prodendo  perdidil. 

Ver.  9.  Not  rendering  evil  for  evil,  or  railing  for  rail- 
ing ;  but  contrariwise,  blessing ;  knowing  that  ye 
are  thereunto  called,  that  ye  shoidd  inherit  a  bles- 
sing. 

Opposition  helps  grace  both  to  more 
strength  and  more  lustre.  When  Christian 
charity  is  not  encountered  by  the  world's  ma- 
lignance, it  hath  an  easier  task  ;  but  assaulted 
and  overcoming,  it  shines  the  brighter,  and 
rises  the  higher  ;  and  thus  it  is  when  it  ren- 
ders not  evil  for  evil. 

To  repay  good  with  evil  is,  among  men, 
the  top  of  iniquity  ;  yet  this  is  our  universal 
guiltiness  toward  God,  he  multiplying  mer- 
cies, and  we  vying  with  multiplied  sins:  as 
the  Lord  com[)lains  of  Israel,  As  they  were  in- 
creased, so  they  sinned.  The  lowest  step  of 
mutual  good  among  men  is,  not  to  be  bent  to 
provoke  others  with  injuries,  and,  being  un- 
offended,  to  offend  none.  But  this,  not  to  re- 
pay offences,  nor  render  evil  for  evil,  is  a 
Christian's  rule  ;  and  yet,  further,  to  return 
good  for  evil,  and  blessing  for  cursins^,  is  not 
only  counselled  (as  some  vainly  distinguish), 
hut  commanded.  Matt.  v.  44. 

It  is  true,  the  most  have  no  ambition  for 
this  degree  of  goodness  ;  they  aspire  no  fur- 
ther than  to  do  or  say  no  evil  unprovoked,  and 
think  themselves  sufficiently  just  and  eciuita- 
ble,  if  they  keep  within  that  :  but  this  is 
lame,  is  only  half  the  rule.  Thou  thinkest 
injury  obliges  thee,  or,  if  not  so,  yet  excuses 
thee,  to  revenge,  or  at  least  disobliges  thee, 
unties  thy  engagement  of  wishing  and  doing 
good.  But  these  are  all  gross  practical  errors. 
For, 

1st.  The  second  injury  done  by  way  of  re- 
venge, differs  frum  the  first  that  provoked  it 
little  or  nothing,  but  only  in  point  of  time  ; 
and  certainly,  no  one  man's  sin  can  procure 
piivilege  to  another,  to  sin  in  that  or  tiie  like 
kind.  If  another  hath  broken  the  bonds  of 
his  allegiance  and  obedience  to  (iod,  and  of 
charity  to  thee,  yet  thou  art  not  the  less  tied 
by  the  same  bonds  still. 

2dly.  By  revenge  of  injuries  thou  usurpest 
upon  (jod's  pr(;rogativo,  \v\ho  is  The  Avenger, 
us  the  apostle  leaches,  Rom.  xii.  19.  This 
'.  oth  not  forbid  either  the  magistrate's  sword 
lor  just  punishment  of  offenders,  or  the  sol- 
dier's sw<jrd  in  a  just  war :  but  such  revenges 
as,  without  authority,  or  a  lawful  call,  the 
pride  and  perverseness  of  men  do  multiply 
one  against  another  ;  in  which  is  involved  a 
presumptuous  contempt  of  God  and  his  su-  [ 
preme  auihurity,  or  at  leacl,  the  unbelief  and 
neglect  of  it. 

3dly.  It  can  not  be  jfcnuine  upright  good- 
ness that  hath  its  depeiubmce  upon  the  good- 
ness of  others  who  arealujui  us:  as  they  say  [ 
of  the  vain-glorious  man,  his  virtue  lielh  m  , 
the  beholder's  eye.    if  thy  meekness  and  ] 
2S 


charity  be  such  as  lieth  in  the  good  and  mild 
carriage  of  others  toward  thee,  m  their  hands 
and  tongues,  thou  art  not  owner  of  it  intrin- 
sically. Such  quiet  and  calm,  if  none  provoke 
thee,  is  but  an  accidental,  uncertain  cessation 
of  thy  turbulent  spirit  unstirred  ;  but  move  it, 
and  it  exerts  itself  according  to  its  nature, 
sending  up  that  mud  which  lay  at  the  bottom  : 
whereas  true  grace  doth  then  most  manifest 
what  it  is,  when  those  things  which  are  most 
contrary,  surround  and  assault  it  ;  it  can  not 
correspond  and  hold  same  with  injuries  and 
railings ;  it  hath  no  faculty  for  that,  for  an- 
swering evil  xi-ith  evil.  A  tongue  inured  to 
graciousness,  and  mild  speeches,  and  bles- 
sings, and  a  heart  stored  so  within,  can  vent 
no  other,  try  it  and  stir  it  as  you  will.  A 
Christian  acts  and  speaks,  not  according  to 
what.others  are  toward  him,  but  according  to 
what  he  is  through  the  grace  and  Spirit  of 
God  in  him  ;  as  they  say,  Quicquid  recipitur, 
recipitur  ad  modiim  recipientis  :  The  same 
things  are  differently  received,  and  work 
differently,  according  to  the  nature  and  way 
of  that  which  receives  them.  \  little  spark 
blows  up  one  of  a  sulphureous  temper,  and 
mani/  coals,  greater  injuries  and  reproaches, 
are  quenched  and  lose  their  force,  being 
thrown  at  another  of  a  cool  spirit,  as  the 
original  expression  is,  Prov.  xvii.  27. 

They  who  have  malice,  and  bitterness, 
and  cursings  within,  though  these  sleej),  it 
may  be,  yet,  awake  them  with  the  like,  and 
the  provision  comes  forth  out  (f  the  alnindance 
of  the  heart :  give  them  an  ill  word,  and  they 
have  another,  or  two  for  one,  in  rciuliness  for 
you.  So,  where  the  soul  is  furnished  with 
s|)iritual  blessings,  their  blessings  come  forth, 
even  in  answer  to  reproaches  and  indignities. 
The  mouth  if  the  wise  is  a  tree  if  life,  says 
Solomon  (I'rov.  x.  11)  ;  it  can  bear  no  oilier 
fruit,  but  according  to  its  kind,  and  the  nature 
of  the  root.  An  honest,  spiritual  heart,  ])luck 
at  it  who  will,  they  can  pull  no  other  fruit 
than  such  fruit.  Love  and  meekness  lodge 
there,  and  therefore,  whosoever  knocks,  these 
make  the  answer. 

Let  the  world  account  it  a  despicable  sim- 
plicity, seek  you  still  more  of  that  dovelike 
spirit,  the  spirit  of  meekness  and  blessing. 
It  is  a  poor  glory  to  vie  in  railings,  to  contest 
in  that  faculty,  or  in  any  kind  of  vindictive 
renirns  of  evil  :  the  most  abject  creatures  have 
abundance  of  that  great  s[)irit,  as  foolish,  poor- 
spirited  persons  account  it  :  but  it  is  the  glory 
if  man  to  pass  hy  a  transgression  (Prov.  xix. 
11),  it  is  the  ntjblesi  victory.  And  as  we 
mentioned,  the  hi2;hest  example,  God,  is  our 
pattern  in  love  and  compassions  :  we  are  well 
warranted  to  endeavor  to  be  like  him  in  this. 
Men  esteem  much  more  higlily  some  other 
virtues  which  make  more  show,  and  tram- 
ple upon  these,  love,  and  compassion,  and 
meekness.  But  though  these  violets  grow 
low,  and  are  of  a  dark  color,  yet,  ihey  are 
of  a  very  sweet  and  diffusive  smell,  odT^i- 
ferous  graces  ;  and  the  Lord  propounds  him- 


218 


A  COMMENTAEV  UPON  THE 


[CiAP.  III. 


self  our  cxamplr  in  thcin,  Matt.  v.  44-4S.  To 
/(ire  ihc.ni  l/itit  hate  you,  and  bless  t/icm  that 
curse  you,  is  to  be  truly  the  children  of  your 
Fdthtr,  i/our  Fatlici"  which  is  tn  heaven.  It  is  a 
kind  (  '(' perfection  :  v.  -18  :  He  ye  therefore  per- 
fect, ercii  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  is 
perfect,  lie  rnakcth  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil 
and  on  the  <rooil.  Be  you  like  it :  howsoever 
men  behave  themselves,  keepyou  your  course, 
and  let  your  beniirn  influence,  as  you  can,  do 
gond  to  all.  And  Jesus  Christ  sets  in  himself 
these  things  before  us,  learn  of  me,  not  to 
)ieal  the  sick,  or  raise  the  dead,  but  learn, 
tor  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart.  Matt.  xi.  29. 
And  if  you  be  his  followers,  that  is  your  way, 
as  the  apostle  here  addeih.  Hereunto  are  you 
called  ;  and  this  is  the  end  of  it,  agreeably  to 
the  way,  that  you  may  inherit  a  l)lessin(r. 

[KuVirii  6ri)  Knowing  that.]  Understand- 
ing aright  the  nature  of  your  holy  calling, 
and  tiien,  considering  it  wisely,  and  conform- 
ing lu  it. 

'i'liose  who  have  nothing  beyond  an  external 
calling  and  profession  of  Christianity,  are 
wholly  blind  in  this  point,  and  do  not  think 
what  this  imports,  A  Christian.  Could  they 
be  drawn  to  this,  it  were  much,  it  were  in- 
deed all,  to  know  to  what  they  are  called,  and 
to  answer  to  it,  to  walk  like  it.  But  as  one 
calls  a  certain  sort  of  lawyers,  indoctum  doc- 
torurn  genus,  we  may  call  the  most,  an  un- 
christian, kind  of  Christians. 

Yea,  even  those  who  are  really  partakers 
of  this  spiritual  and  effectual  call,  yet  are 
often  very  defective  in  this  :  in  viewing  their 
rule,  and  laying  it  to  their  life,  their  hearts, 
and  words,  and  actions,  and  squaring  by  it  : 
in  often  asking  theniselvps,  suits  this  my  cal- 
ling ?  Is  this  like  a  Christian  ?  It  is  a  main 
point  in  any  civil  station,  for  a  man  to  have 
a  carriage  suitable  and  convenient  to  his  sta- 
tion and  condition,  that  his  actions  become 
him  :  Caput  artis  est  decere  (/vod  facias.  But 
how  many  incongruities  and  solecisms  do  we 
commit,  forgettin<i  ourselves,  who  we  are.  and 
what  we  are  called  to  ;  lo  what  is  our  duty, 
and  to  what,  as  our  portion  and  inheritance. 
And  these  indeed  agree  together  ;  we  are  cal- 
led to  an  und rjilcil ,  a.  holy  inheritance,  and 
therefore,  called  likewise  to  be  holy  in  our 
way  to  it:  for  that  contains  all.  We  are 
called  to  a  better  estate  at  home,  and  called 
to  be  fitted  for  it  while  we  are  here  :  called 
to  an  inheritance  of  light,  and  therefore,  called 
to  v'alk  as  children  of  light  ;  and  so  here, 
called  to  blessing-  as  our  inheritance,  and  to 
blessing  as  our  duty  ;  for  this  [  <  T;vr„  there- 
vnio\  relates  to  both,  looks  hack  to  the  one, 
and  forward  to  the  other,  the  way,  and  the 
flid,  boll)  hle'isinir. 

The  fulness  of  this  inheritance  is  reserved 
till  wecotne  tc)ihat  land  where  it  lieth  ;  there 
It  abideth  us  :  but  the  earnests  of  that  fulness 
of  bles^sinn  are  bestowed  on  us  here  :  spiritual 
blessmi'S  In  heavenly  places  m  Christ  (Eph. 
1.  3) ;  they  descend  from  those  heavenly  plwces 
upon  the  heart,  that  precious  name  of  our 


Lord  Jesus  poured  on  our  hearts.  If  we  br 
indeed  interested  in  him  (aswi  pretend),  and 
have  peace  with  God  through  cur  Lord  Jesut 
Christ,  we  are  put  in  ])ossessic)n  of  that  bles- 
sing of  forgiveness  of  sin,  and  on  terms  of 
love  and  amity  with  the  Father,  being  recon- 
ciled by  the  blood  of  his  Son,  and  then  blessed 
with  the  anointing  ol'  the  Si)irit,  the  graces 
ini'used  from  heaven.  Now,  all  these  do  so 
cure  the  hitter,  accursed  dislernjiers  oi'  the 
natural  heart,  and  so  perfume  it,  that  it  caa 
not  well  breathe  anything  but  sweetness  and 
blessing  toward  others:  being  itself  thus 
blessed  of  the  Lord,  it  echoes  blessing  both 
to  God  and  men,  echoes  to  his  blessing  of  it , 
and  its  words  and  whole  carriage  are  as  tht 
smell  of  a  field  that  the  Lord  hath  blessed,  af 
old  Isaac  said  of  his  son's  garments,  Gen. 
xxvii.  27.  The  Lord  having  spoken  pardon 
to  a  soul,  and  instead  of  the  curse  due  to  sin, 
blessed  it  with  a  title  to  glory,  it  easily  anc 
readily  speaks  pardon,  and  not  only  pardon, 
but  blessing  also,  even  to  those  that  outrag* 
it  most,  and  deserve  worst  of  it :  reflectina 
still  on  that.  Oh  !  what  deserved  I  at  mj 
Lord's  hands  !  When,  so  many  talents  art 
forgiven  me,  shall  I  stick  at  forgiving  a  fevi 
pence  ! 

And  then,  called  lo  inherit  a  blessing  ;  every 
believer  an  heir  of  blessing!  And  not  only 
are  the  spiritual  blessings  he  hath  received 
but  even  his  largeness  of  blessing  others 
is  a  pledge  to  him,  an  evidence  of  that  heir 
ship  ;  as  those  who  are  prone  to  cursing 
though  provoked,  yet  may  look  upon  that  as 
a  sad  mark,  that  they  are  heirs  of  a  curse. 
Psalm,  cxix.  17.  .4s  ye  loved  cursing,  so  let 
it  come  unto  him.  Shall  not  they  who  delight 
in  cursing,  have  enough  of  it,  when  they  shall 
hear  that  doleful  word.  Go,  ye  cursed,  fee' 
And,  on  the  other  side,  as  for  the  sons  of 
blessing,  who  spared  it  not  to  any,  the  bles- 
sing they  are  heirs  to  is  blessedness  itself,  and 
they  are  to  be  entered  into  it  by  that  joyful 
speech.  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father. 

Men  can  but  bless  one  another  in  good 
wishes,  and  can  bless  the  Lord  only  in  praises 
and  applauding  his  blessedness  ;  but  the 
Lord's  blessing  is,  really  malnng  blessed  ;  an 
operative  word,  which  brings  the  thing  with 
it. 

Inherit  a  blessing.]  Not  called  to  be  ex- 
empted from  troubles  and  injuries  here,  and 
to  be  extolled  and  favored  by  the  world,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  rather  to  suffer  the  utmost 
of  their  mnlice,  and  to  be  the  mark  of  their 
arrows,  of  wrongs,  and  scofl's,  and  reproaches. 
But  it  matters  not,  this  weighs  down  all,  you 
are  called  to  inherit  a  blessing,  which  all 
their  cursings  and  hatred  can  not  deprive  you 
of.  For  as  this  inheriting  of  blessing  en- 
forces the  duty  of  blessing  others  upon  a 
Christian,  so  it  encourages  him  toco  through 
the  hardest  contrary  measure  he  receives 
from  the  world.  If  the  world  should  bless 
you,  and  applaud  you  never  so  loudly,  ye 
their  blessings  can  not  be  called  an  inherit- 


Ver.  10.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


21£ 


ance  ;  tht  f  fly  away,  and  die  out  in  ihe  air, 
have  no  sabstance  at  all,  much  less  that  en- 
durance tnat  may  make  thern  an  inheritance. 
Qui  ihesaurum  tuuin  alitno  in  ore  constitutis, 
ii^twras  tjuod  area  ista  noii  claudiiur  ?  You 
who  trust  your  treasure  to  another  man's 
keeping,  are  you  aware  that  you  are  leaving 
it  in  an  open  chest  ?  And  more  generally, 
is  there  anything  here  that  deserves  to  be 
called  ?  The  surest  inheritances  are  iiul  more 
than  for  term  of  life  to  any  one  man  :  their 
abiding  is  for  others  who  succeed,  but  he  re- 
moves. Si  hac  sunt  vestra,  lollUe  eu  vobis- 
curn  (S.  Bkrnard)  :  If  these  things  are  yours, 
take  them  away  with  you.  And  when  a 
man  is  to  remove  from  all  he  haih  possessed 
and  rejoiced  in  here,  then,  fuol  indeed,  if 
nothing  be  provided  for  the  longer  (0  I  how 
much  longer)  abode  he  must  make  elsewhere  ! 
Will  he  not  then  bewail  his  madness,  that 
he  was  hunting  a  shadow  all  iiis  lifetime? 
And  may  be,  he  is  turned  out  of  all  his  quiet 
possessions  and  easy  dwelling  before  that 
(and  in  these  limes  we  may  the  more  readily 
think  of  this)  ;  but  at  the  utmost  at  night, 
when  he  should  be  for  most  rest,  when  that 
sad  night  comes  alter  this  day  of  liiirest  pros- 
perity, the  unbelieving,  unrejtenting  smner 
lies  down  in  sorrow,  in  a  woful  bed.  Then 
must  he,  whether  he  will  or  no,  enter  on  the 
possession  of  this  inheritance  of  everlasting 
burnings.  He  hath  an  inheritance  indeed, 
but  he  had  better  want  it,  and  himself  loo  be 
turned  to  nothing.  Do  you  believe  there  are 
treasures  which  neither  thief  breaks  into, 
nor  is  there  any  inward  moth  to  corrupt  them, 
an  inheritance  whicii,  though  the  whole 
world  be  turned  u|)side  down,  is  in  no  haz- 
ard of  a  touch  of  damage,  a  kiiiiidom,  that 
not  only  can  not  fall,  but  can  not  he  xhakcn  ^ 
Heb.  xii.  28.  Oh  !  be  wise,  and  consult  r  your 
latter  end,  and  whatsoever  you  do,  look  after 
this  blessed  inheritance.  Seek  to  have  the 
right  to  it  in  lesus  Christ,  and  the  evidences 
and  seals  of  it  from  his  Spirit  ;  and  if  it  be 
so  with  you,  your  hearts  will  be  upon  it,  and 
your  lives  will  be  conformed  to  it. 

Ver.  10.  For  he  that  will  love  life,  and  see  good 
d:iys,  let  him  refrain  his  tongue  from  evil,  and  his 
lips  that  they  speak  no  guile. 

The  rich  bounty  of  God  dilTuses  itself 
ihnjughout  the  world  upon  all  ;  yet  there  is 
a  select  number  who  have  peculiar  blessings 
jf  his  rtahl  hand,  which  the  rest  of  the 
world  share  not  in  :  and  even  as  to  common 
blessings,  they  are  differenced  by  a  peculiar 
title  to  ihem,  and  sweetness  in  them  ;  their 
blessings  are  blessings  indeed,  and  entirely 
so,  outside  and  inside,  and  more  so  within 
than  they  appear  withotit  ;  (he  Lord  himself 
1.1  iheir  portion,  and  t/iey  are  his.  This  is 
ihei'  blessedness,  which  in  a  low  estate  they 
car  challen^'e,  and  so  outvie  all  the  painted 
prosj)erily  of  ilie  world.  Some  kind  of  bless- 
ings do  abinidantly  run  over  upon  others;  but 
the  cup  of  blessings  belongs  unto  the  godly 


by  a  new  right  from  heaven,  graciously  con' 
ferred  upon  them.    Others  are  sent  away 
with  gifts  (as  some  apply  that  passage.  Gen 
XXV.  5,  6),  but  the  inheritance  is  Isaac's. 
,  They  are  called  to  be  tlie  sons  of  God,  and 
j  are  like  him,  as  his  children,  in  goodness 
I  and  blessings.    The  inheritance  of  blessings 
'is  theirs  alone: — Calhd,  says  the  apostle,  <o 
inherit  a  blessing.    And  all  the  promises  in 
j  the  great  charter  of  both  testaments  run  in 
that  appropriating  style,  entailed  to  them,  as 
the  only  heirs.    Thus  this  fitly  is  translated 
from  the  one  testament  to  the  other,  by  the 
apostle,  for  his  present  purpose — he  that  will 
love,  &c.    See  Psalm  xxxiv.  13,  14. 

Consider,  1.  The  qualification  required. 
2.  The  blessing  annexed  and  ascertained  to 
it ;  the  scope  being,  to  recommend  a  rule  so 
exact,  and  for  that  purpose,  to  propound  a 
good  so  important  and  desirable,  as  a  sufli- 
1  cient  attractive  to  study  and  conform  to  that 
rule. 

The  rule  is  all  of  it  one  straight  line,  run^ 
j  ning  the  whole  tract  of  a  godly  man's  life  ; 
yet  you  see  clea/ly  that  it  is  not  cut  asunder 
indeed,  but  only  marked  into  four,  whereof, 
the  two  latter  ])arcels  are  somewhat  long- 
er, more  generally  reaching  a  man's  ways, 
the  two  former  j)articularly  regulating  the 
tongue. 

[  In  the  ten  words  of  the  law  which  God  de- 
livered in  so  singular  a  manner  Ijotli  by  word 
and  writ  from  his  own  month  and  hand, 
there  be  two,  which  if  not  wholly,  yet  most 
especially  and  most  expressly  concern  the 
tongue,  as  a  very  considerable,  though  a 
small  part  of  man  ;  and  of  these  four  words, 

j  here  two  are  bestowed  on  it. 

I     The  Apostle,  St.  James,  is  large  in  this, 

I  teaching  the  great  concernment  ol' tliis  point. 
It  is  a  hllle  nieniher  (says  he,  chap.  iii.  5),  but 
boaslelh  great  things,  needs  a  strong  bridle  : 
and  the  bridling  of  it  makes  much  for  the 
ruling  the  whole  course  of  a  man's  life,  as 
the  ajjostle  there  applies  the  resemblance  ; 
yea,  he  gives  the  skill  of  this  as  the  very 
character  of  perfection.  And  if  we  consider  it, 
it  must  indeed  be  of  very  great  consequence 
how  we  use  liie  tongue,  it  being  the  main 
outlet  of  the  thoughts  of  the  heart  and  the 
mean  of  society  among  men  in  all  affairs 
civil  and  sjjiritual ;  by  which  men  give  birth 
to  the  conceptions  of  their  cnvn  minds,  and 
seek  to  beget  the  like  in  the  minds  of  others. 
The  bit  that  is  here  made  for  men's  mouths 
hath  these  two  halves  that  make  it  up  :  1.  To 
refrain  from  open  evil  speaking.  2.  From 
double  and  guileful  speaking. 

From  e%!il.\  This  is  a  large  field,  the  evil 
of  the  tongue  ;  but  I  give  it  too  narrow  a 
name:, We  have  good  warrant  to  give  it  a 
much  larger — A  whole  universe,  a  world  oj 
mif/uilj/,  Jam.  iii.  6,  a  vast  bulk  of  evils,  and 
great  variety  t)f  them,  as  of  countries  on  thp 
earth,  or  creatures  in  the  world  :  and  multi- 
tudes of  such  are  venomous  and  full  of  deadly 
poison,  and  not  a  few,  iionslers,  new  produc- 


8^ 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Cha»  111. 


tions  of  wickcdiirss  semper  alujuid  novi,  as 
they  say  of  Africa. 

ThtTc  be  ill  the  daily  discourses  of  the 
greatest  part  of  men,  many  things  that  be- 
long; to  this  world  of  evil,  and  yet  pass  un- 
suspeMed,  so  tiiat  we  do  not  tiiink  them  to 
be  within  its  ccmipass;  not  using  due  dili- 
gence and  exactness  in  our  discoveries  of  tlie 
sevcnd  parts  of  it,  altliough  it  is  all  within 
ourselves,  yea,  within  a  s-mall  part  of  our- 
selves, our  tongues. 

It  were  loo  quick  a  fancy  to  think  to  travel 
over  this  world  of  iniquity,  the  wht)le  circuit 
of  it,  in  an  hour,  yea,  or  so  much  as  to  aim 
exactly  at  all  the  i)arts  that  can  be  taken  of 
it  in  the  smallest  map  :  but  some  of  the  chief 
we  would  ])articularly  take  notice  of  in  the 
several  four  parts  of  it ;  for  it  will  without 
constraint  hold  resemblance  in  that  division, 
with  the  other,  the  habitable  world. 

I.  Profane  speech,  that  which  is  grossly 
and  manifestly  wicked  ;  and  in  that  part  lie, 
1.  Imjjious  speeches,  which  directly  reflect 
upon  the  glory  and  name  of  God  ;  blasphe- 
mies, and  oaths,  and  cursings^  of  which  there 
is  so  great,  so  lamentable  abundance  among 
us,  the  wliole  land  overspread  and  defiled 
with  it,  the  common  noise  that  meets  a  man 
in  streets  and  houses,  and  almost  in  all  pla- 
ces where  he  comes;  and  to  these, join  what 
are  not  uncommon  among  us  neither,  scoffs 
and  mocking  at  religion,  the  power  and 
strictness  of  it,  not  only  by  the  grosser  sort, 
but  by  pretenders  to  some  kind  of  goodness ; 
for  they  who  have  attained  to  a  self-pleasing 
pitch  of  civility  or  formal  religion,  have  usu- 
ally that  p(jint  of  presumption  with  it,  that  i 
they  make  their  own  size  the  model  and  rule  I 
to  examine  all  by.  What  is  below  it,  they  I 
condenm  indeed  as  profane  ;  but  what  is  be- 
yond it,  they  account  needless  and  affected 
preciseness  ;  and,  therel'ore,  are  as  ready  as 
others  to  let  fly  invectives  or  bitter  taunts 
against  it,  which  are  the  keen  and  poisoned 
shafts  of  the  tongue,  and  a  persecution  that 
shall  be  called  to  a  strict  account.  2.  Im- 
pure or  filthy  speaking,  which  either  pollutes 
or  offends  the  hearers,  and  is  the  noisome 
breath  of  a  rotten  polluted  heart. 

II.  Consider  next,  as  another  g,rand  part  of 
the  tongue,  T'ltcharitabh  speeches,  tending 
to  the  defaming  and  disgrace  of  others  :  and 
these  are  likewise  of  two  sorts:  1.  Open 
railing  and  reproaches  ;  2.  Secret  slander  and 
detraction.  'I'he  former  is  unjust  and  cruel, 
but  it  is  somewhat  the  less  dangerous,  be- 
cause open.  It  is  a  fight  in  plain  field  ;  but 
truly  it  is  no  piece  of  a  Christan's  warfare  to 
encounter  it  in  the  same  kind.  The  sons 
of  peace  are  not  for  these  tongue-combats ; 
they  are  often,  no  doubt,  set  upon  so,  but 
they  have  another  abler  way  of  overcoming 
It  than  by  the  use  of  the  same  weapon  :  for 
they  break  and  blunt  the  point  of  ill-re- 
proaches by  meekness,  and  triumph  over 
cursmgs  with  more  abundant  blessing,  as  is 
enjoined  in  the  former  words,  which  are  sec-  i 


onded  with  these  out  of  Psalm  xxxiv.  14. 
But  they  that  enter  the  lisis  in  this  kind,  and 
are  provided  one  for  another  with  enraged 
minds,  are  usually  not  unprovided  of  weap- 
j  ons,  but  lay  hold  on  anything  that  conies 
!  next  ; — Furor  anna  minis/rnt  ;  as  yourdrunk- 
i  ards  in  their  quarrels,  in  their  cups  and  pots, 
if  they  have  any  other  great  reproach,  they 
lay  about  them  with  that,  as  their  sword  :  but 
'  if  they  want  that,  true  or  untrue,  ])ertiuent  or 
j  impertinent,  all  is  one,  they  cast  out  any  re- 
viliiigs  that  come  next  to  hand.   But  there  is 
'  not  only  wickedness,  but  something  of  base- 
ness in  this  kind  of  conflicts,  that  makes 
them  more  abound  among  the  baser  sort,  and 
not  so  frequent  with  such  as  are  but  of  a 
more  civil  breeding  and  quality  than  the 
vulgar. 

But  the  other  kind — detraction,  is  more 
universal  among  all  sorts,  as  being  a  far  ea- 
sier way  of  mischief  in  this  kind,  and  of  bet- 
ter conveyance.  Railings  cry  out  the  mattet 
openly,  but  detraction  works  all  by  surprise 
and  stratagem,  and  mines  under  ground,  and 
therefore  is  much  more  pernicious.  'J'he  for- 
mer are  as  the  arrou-a  that  f  i/  Inj  day,  but  this, 
as  the  fiestUence  that  valkclh  in  darkness  (as 
these  two  are  mentioned  together  in  Psalm 
xci.  5,  6),  it  spreads  and  infects  secretly  and 
insensibly,  is  not  felt  but  in  the  efl'ects  of  it ; 
and  it  works  either  by  calumnies  altogether 
forged  and  untrue,  of  which  malice  is  invent- 
ive, or  by  the  advantage  of  real  faults,  of 
which  it  is  very  discerning,  and  these  are 
stretched  and  aggravated  to  the  utmost.  It 
is  not  expressible  how  deep  a  wound  a  tongue 
sharpened  to  this  work  will  give,  with  .a 
very  little  word  and  little  noise — as  a  razor. 
as  it  is  called  in  Psalm  Hi.  2,  which  with  a 
small  touch  cuts  very  deep — taking  things  by 
the  worst  handle,  whereas  charity,  will  try 
about  all  ways  for  a  good  acceptation  and 
sense  of  things,  and  takes  all  by  the  best. 
This  pest  is  still  killing  some  almost  in  all 
companies  ;  it  castcth  doivn  many  wounded, 
as  it  said  of  the  strange  woman,  Prov.  vii.  26 
And  they  convey  it  under  fair  prefacing  of 
c(m'imendation  ;  so  giving  them  poison  in 
wine,  both  that  it  may  pass  the  better,  and 
penetrate  the  more.  This  is  a  great  sin,  one 
which  the  Lord  ranks  with  the  first,  when 
he  sets  them  in  order  against  a  man,  Psalm 
I.  20 :  Thou  sittest  and  spcakest  against  thy 
brother. 

III.  Vain  fruitless  speeches  are  an  evil  of 
the  tongue,  not  only  those  they  call  harm/ess 
lies,  which  some  poor  people  take  a  pleasure 
in,  and  trade  much  in,  fight  buffooneries  and 
foolish  jesting,  but  the  greatest  part  of  those 
discourses  which  men  account  tne  blameless 
entertainments  one  of  another,  come  within 
the  compass  of  this  evil ;  frothy  unsavory  stuff, 
tending  to  no  purpose  nor  good  at  all  :  effect- 
less u-ords,  as  our  Savior  speaks.  Matt, 
xii.  36,  of  which  we  must  render  an  account 
in  the  day  of  judgment,  for  that  very  reason. 
They  are  in  this  world  of  evil,  in  the  tongue  . 


Ver.  10.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


221 


if"  no  other  way  ill,  yet  ill  they  are,  as  the 
Arabian  deserts  an  i  barren  sands,  because 
they  are  fruitless. 

iV.  Doub/eiicss  and  guile  :  so  great  a  part, 
that  it  is  here  particularly  named  a  part, 
though  the  evil  of  it  is  less  known  and  dis- 
cerned ;  and  so  there  is  in  it,  as  I  may  say, 
much  terra  incognita  ;  yet  it  is  of  a  very 
large  compass,  as  large,  we  may  confidently 
say,  as  all  the  other  three  together.  What 
of  men's  speech  is  not  manifestly  evil  in  any 
of  the  other  kinds,  is  the  most  of  it  naught 
this  way  :  speech  good  to  appearance,  plau- 
sible and  fair,  but  not  upright ;  not  silver,  but 
silver  dross,  as  Solomon  calls  it  ;  burning 
lips,  &c.  Prov.  xxvi.  23.  Each  almost,  some 
way  or  other,  speaking  falsehood  and  deceit 
to  his  neighbor  ;  and  daring  to  act  thus  falsely 
with  God  in  his  services,  and  our  protesta- 
tions of  obedience  to  him  ;  reiigious  speeches 
abused  by  some  in  hypocrisy,  as  holy  vest- 
ments, for  a  mask  or  disguise  ;  doing  nothing 
but  compassing-  him  aliout  with  lies,  as  he 
complains  of  Ephrairn,  Hos.  xi.  12  ;  deceiving 
indeed  ourselves,  while  we  think  to  deceive 
him  who  can  not  be  deceived,  and  will  not  be 
n  eked,  Psalm  xvii.  1  ;  Gal.  vi.  7.  He  saw 
through  the  disguise  and  hypocrisy  of  his 
own  people,  when  they  came  to  inquire  at 
him,  and  yet  still  entertained  their  heart- 
idols,  as  lie  tells  the  prophet,  Ezek.  xiv.  3. 

The  sins  of  each  of  us,  would  we  enter  into 
a  strict  account  of  ourselves,  would  bo  found 
to  arise  lo  a  great  sum  in  this  kind  ;  and  they 
that  do  put  themselves  upon  the  work  of  self- 
trial,  find,  no  d(jui)t,  abundant  matter  of  deep- 
est humbling,  though  they  had  no  more,  even 
in  the  sin  ol  their  lips,  and  are  by  it  often  as- 
tonished at  the  L(jrd's  patience,  considering 
his  holiness;  as  Isaiah  cried  out,  ch.  vi.  5: 
ha  ving  seen  the  Lord  in  a  glorious  vision, 
this  in  particular  falls  upon  his  thoughts  con- 
cerning himself  and  the  people— ;*o//«<crf 
lijis  :  Wo  IS  me,  kc.  And  indeed  it  is  a  thing 
the  godly  mind  can  not  be  satisfied  with,  to 
make  mention  of  the  Lord,  till  their  lips  be 
toucheth  withn  coal  from  the  heavenly  fire  of 
the  altar  ;  and  they  especially  that  are  called 
to  be  tiie  Lord's  messengers,  will  say  as  St. 
Bernard,  "  Had  the  prophet  need  of  a  coal  to 
unpoUuie  his  lips,  then  do  ministers  require 
toium  irlohuiri  igncum,a  whole  globe  of  fire." 
Go  through  the  land,  and  see  if  the  sins  of 
this  kind  will  not  take  up  much  of  the  bill 
against  us  which  the  Lord  seems  now  to 
have  taken  into  his  hands  and  to  be  reading, 
and  about  lo  take  order  with  it,  because  we 
will  not.  Would  we  set  ourselves  to  read  it, 
he  would  let  it  liill.  Is  it  not  becau.se  of 
oaths  iliat  the  land  mourns,  or  I  am  sure 
hath  now  high  cause  to  mourn  ?  Mockings 
at  the  power  of  godlmess  Hy  thick  in  most 
congregations  and  societies.  And  what  is 
there  to  be  found  almost  but  mutual  detrac- 
tions and  supplantings  of  the  good  name  of 
another,  toni^nies  tauirhl  to  speak  lies,  Jer.  ix. 
4,  5,  and  that  frame,  or  !>ew  and  weave  togeth- 


er deceits,  as  it  is  in  Psalm  1.  19  ?  And  even 
the  godly,  as  they  may  be  subject  to  othei 
sins,  so  may  they  be  under  some  degree  of 
this  :  and  too  many  are  very  much  subject,  by 

'  reason  of  their  unwatchfulness  and  not  stay- 
ing themselves  in  this  point,  though  not  to 
profane,  yet  to  vain,  and  it  may  be  to  detrac- 
tive speeches;  sometimes  possibly  not  with 

1  malicious  intention,  but  out  of  an  inadvertence 
of  this  evil,  readier  to  stick  on  the  failings  of 
men,  and  it  may  be  of  other  Christians,  than 
to  consider,  and  commend,  and  to  follow  what 
is  laudable  in  them  ;  and  it  may  be  in  their 
best  discourses,  not  endeavoring  to  have 
hearts  purified,  as  becomes  them,  from  all 
guile  and  self-ends.  Oh  !  it  is  a  thing  needs 
much  diligent  study,  and  is  worth  it  all,  to  be 
thoroughly  sincere  and  unfeigned  in  all,  and 

I  particularly  in  these  things.  Our  Savior's 
innocence  is  expressed  so  :  In  his  mouth  was 
found  no  guile.  (Chapter  ii.  of  this  Epistle, 
verse  22.) 

But  to  add  something  for  -"^medy  of  these 
evils  in  some  ])art  discovered  ,  "or  to  vanquish 
this  world  of  evils,  is  a  great  conquest. 

I  1.  It  must  be  done  at  the  heart  ;  otherwise 
it  will  be  but  a  mountebank  cure,  a  false  im- 

j  agined  conquest.    The  weights  and  wheels 

j  are  there,  and  the  clock  strikes  according  tc 
their  motion.  Even  he  that  speaks  contrary 
to  what  is  within  him,  guilefully  contrary  to 
his  inward  conviction  and  knowledge,  yet 

I  speaks  conformably  to  what  is  within  him  in 
the  temper  and  frame  of  his  heart,  which  is 
double,  a  heart  and  a  heart,  as  the  psalmist 
hath  it,  Psalm  xii.  2.  A  guileful  heart  makes 

I  guileful  tongue  and  lips.  It  is  the  workhouse 
where  is  the  for<^e  of  deceits  and  slanders, 
and  other  evil  speakings  :  and  the  tongue  is 
only  the  outer  shop  where  they  are  vended, 
and  the  lips  the  door  of  it :  so  then  such  ware 
as  is  made  within,  such  and  no  other  can  be 
set  out.  From  evil  thoughts,  evil  speakings  ; 
from  a  profane  heart,  profane  words ;  and 
from  a  malicious  heart,  bitter  or  calumnious 
words  ;  and  from  a  deceitful  heart,  guileful 
words,  well  varnished,  but  lined  with  rotten- 
ness. And  so  in  the  general, /row  the  aburi' 
dance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaki  ih,  as  our 
Savior  teaches,  Matt.  xii.  34.  That  which 
the  heart  is  full  of,  runs  over  by  the  tongue : 
if  the  heart  be  full  of  God,  the  tongue  will 
delight  to  speak  of  him  ;  much  of  heavenly 
things  within,  will  sweetly  breathe  forth 
something  of  their  smell  by  the  mouth  ;  and 
if  nothing  but  earth  is  there,  all  that  man's 
discourse  will  have  an  earthly  smell  ;  and  if 
nothing  but  wind,  vanity,  and  i'olly ,  the  speech 
will  be  airy,  and  vain,  and  purposeless.  The 
mouth  of  the  Ti<rhleous  speakrth  wisdom  :  the 
law  of  his  God  is  in  his  heart.  Psalm  xxxvii. 
30,  31.  Thy  law,  says  David  (Psalm  xl.  8), 
IS  within  my  heart,  or  as  the  Hebrew  phrase 
is,  in  the  midst  of  my  bowels  ;  and  that,  as 
from  the  centre,  sends  forth  the  lines  and  rays 
of  suitable  words,  and  /  will  not,  can  not  re- 
frain, as  there  it  is  added,  verse  9,  I  have 


232 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  Ill 


preached  riirIiteout<riess  :  lo,  1  have  not  re-  1 
frainid  my  lips.  So  no  more  can  llie  evil 
heart  refrmn  the  tongue  from  evil,  as  is  ht  e 
dirtcted.  'I  he  tongue  of  the  righteous,  »'dys 
Soloiiioii,  is  asjine  silver,  hut  the  heart  of  the 
inched  is  little  worth.  Prov.  x.  20.  It  makes 
the  iiiilithesis  in  the  root  ;  \ns  heart  is  little 
worth,  and  therefore  his  tongue  has  no  silver 
in  it  :  he  may  be  wnrlh  ihotisani/s  (as  we 
sjieak),  that  is,  indeed,  in  his  chests  or  lands, 
und  yet  himself,  his  lieart,  and  all  the  ihou^^hts 
of  it,  iu:-t  wortli  a  penny. 

If  thou  art  inured  to  oaths  or  cursin<r,  in  any 
kind  or  fashion  of  it,  taking  the  great  name 
of  Got!  any  ways  in  vain,  do  not  favor  thyself 
in  it  as  a  small  offence  :  to  excuse  it  by  cus- 
tom, is  to  wash  thyself  with  ink  :  and  to  plead 
that  thou  art  long  practised  in  that  sin,  is  to 
accuse  thyself  deeper.  If  thou  wouldst  in- 
deed be  delivered  from  it,  think  not  that  a 
slight  dislike  of  it  (when  reproved)  will  do; 
but  seek  for  a  due  knowledge  of  the  majesty 
of  God,  and  thence  a  deep  reverence  of  him 
in  thy  heart ;  and  that  will  certainly  cure 
that  habituated  evil  of  thy  tongue  :  will  quite 
alter  that  bias  which  the  custom  thou  speak- 
est  of  hath  given  it  ;  will  cast  it  in  a  new 
mould,  and  teach  it  a  new  language  :  will 
turn  thy  regardless  abuse  of  that  name,  by 
vain  oaths  and  asseverations,  into  a  holy  fre- 
quent use  of  it  in  prayers  and  praises.  Thou 
wilt  not  then  dare  dishonor  that  blessed 
name,  which  saints  and  angels  bless  and 
adore  ;  but  wilt  set  in  with  thein  to  bless  it. 

Njune  that  know  the  weight  of  that  name 
will  dally  with  it,  and  lightly  lift  it  up  (as 
that  word  translated  taking  in  vain,  in  the 
third  commandment,  signifies)  ;  they  that  do 
continue  to  lift  it  up  in  vain,  as  it  were,  to 
sport  thefnselves  with  it,  will  find  the  weight 
of  it  falling  back  upon  them,  and  crushing 
chem  to  pieces. 

In  like  manner,  a  purified  heart  will  un- 
teach  the  tongue  all  filthy  impure  speeches, 
and  will  give  it  a  holy  strain  ;  and  the  spirit 
of  charity  and  humility  will  banish  that  mis- 
chievous humor,  which  sets  so  deep  in  the 
most,  of  reproaching  and  disgracing  others  in 
any  kind,  either  openly  or  sccreily.  For  it  is 
wicked  self-love  and  pride  of  heart  whence 
these  do  spring,  searching  and  disclosing  the 
failings  of  others,  on  which  love  will  rather 
cast  a  mantle  to  hide  them. 

It  is  an  argument  of  a  candid  ingenuous 
mind,  to  delight  in  the  good  name  and  com- 
mendation of  others  ;  to  pass  by  their  defects, 
and  take  notice  of  their  virtues  ;  and  lo  speak 
and  hear  of  those  willingly,  and  not  endure 
either  to  speak  or  hear  of  the  other;  for  in 
this  indeed  you  may  be  little  less  guilty  than 
the  evil  speaker,  in  taking  pleasure  in  it, 
though  you  speak  it  not.  And  this  is  a  piece 
ot  men's  natural  pcrverseness,  to  d  'nk  in 
tales  and  calumnies  :*  and  he  that  doih  this, 
will  readily,  from  the  delight  he  hath  in  hear- 

*  Obtrec'atio.ei  livor  primis  auribus  accipiuntur. 


ing,  slide  insensibly  into  the  humor  of  ev\ 
speaking.  It  is  strange  how  most  persons 
dispense  with  themselves  in  this  point,  and 
that  in  scarcely  any  societies  shall  we  find  a 
hatred  of  this  ill,  but  rather  some  tokens  of 
taking  pleasure  in  it ;  and  until  a  Christian 
sets  himself  to  an  inward  watchfulnes.>  over 
his  heart,  not  sutVering  in  it  any  thought  that 
is  uncharitable,  or  vain  self-esteem,,  upon  the 
sight  of  other's  frailties,  he  will  still  be  sub- 
ject to  somewhat  of  this,  in  the  tongue  or  ear 
at  least.  So,  then,  as  for  the  evil  oi' guile  in 
the  tongue,  a  sincere  heart,  truth  in  the  in- 
u-ard  parts,  powerfully  redresses  it ;  there- 
fore it  is  expressed.  Psalm  xv.  2,  That  speak- 
eth  the  truth  from  his  heart  ;  thence  it  flows. 
Seek  much  after  this,  to  speak  nothing  with 
God,  nor  men,  but  what  is  the  sense  of  a  sin- 
gle unfeigned  heart.  0  sweet  truth!  excel- 
lent but  rare  sincerity  I  he  that  loves  that 
truth  within,  alone  can  work  it  there  ;  seek  it 
of  him. 

2dly.  Be  choice  in  your  society.  Sit  not 
vrith  vam  persons.  Psalm  xxvi.  4,  whose 
tongues  have  nothing  else  to  utter,  but  im])u- 
rity,  or  malice,  or  folly.  Men  readily  learn 
the  dialect  and  tone  of  the  people  among 
whom  ilicy  live.  If  you  sit  down  in  the  cliaii 
of  scorners,  if  you  take  a  scat  with  them,  you 
shall  quickly  take  a  share  of  their  diet  with 
them,  and  sitting  among  them,  take  your 
turn,  in  time,  of  speaking  with  them  in  their 
own  language.  But  frequent  the  company 
ol' grave  and  godly  persons,  in  whose  hearts 
and  lips,  jiiety,  and  love,  and  wisdom,  are  set, 
and  it  is  the  way  to  learn  their  language. 

3dly.  Use  a  little  of  the  bridle  in  the  quan- 
tity of  sjieecli.*  Incline  a  little  rather  to 
sparing  than  lavishing,  for  in  many  vords 
there  icantsnol  sin.  That  flux  of  the  tongue, 
that  prattling  and  babbling  disease,  is  very 
common;  and  hence  so  many  impertinences, 
yea,  so  many  of  those  worse  ills  in  their  dis- 
courses, whispering  about,  and  inquiring,  and 
censuring  this  and  that.  A  childish  delight ! 
and  yet  most  men  carry  it  with  them  all 
along  to  speak  of  persons  and  things  not  con- 
cerning us.t  And  this  draws  men  to  speak 
many  things  which  agree  not  with  the  rules 
of  wisdom,  and  charity,  and  sincerity.  He 
that  refraineth  his  lips  is  wise,  saith  Solo- 
mon, Prox.  X.  19:  a  vessel  without  a  cover 
can  not  escape  uncleanness.  Much  might  be 
avoided  by  a  little  refraining  of  this;  much 
of  the  infection  and  sin  that  are  occasioned 
by  the  many  babblings  that  are  usual.  And 
were  it  no  worse,  is  it  not  a  sufficient  evil 
that  they  waste  away  that  time,  precious 
lime,  which  can  not  be  recovered,  which  the 
most  just  or  most  thankful  man  in  the  world 
can  not  restore?  He  that  spares  speech,  fa- 
vors his  tongue  indeed,  as  the  Latin  |)hra&e 
is,  [favere  lingua;] ;  not  he  that  looses  the 

*  ^tijpis  rd  t'  etTTCty  iroWi  xat  rh  Kaiput.     JKsi  HVL. 
Xurfji  j.     2  OrAT.  1. 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


223 


reius  and  lets  it  run.  He  tliat  refrains  his 
lips,  may  ponder  and  pre-examine  what  he 
utteis,  w'tietlier  it  be  profitable  and  reasona- 
ble or  no;  and  so  the  tongue  of  the  just  is  as 
fined  silver,  Prov.  x.  20  ;  it  is  refined  in  the 
wise  forethought  and  pondering  of  the  heart: 
according  to  the  saying,  Bis  ad  limam  prius- 
quam  semel  ad  linnunm.  Twice  to  the  fi-le 
ere  once  to  the  lonf^ue.  Even  to  utter  knowl- 
edge and  wise  things  profusely,  holds  not  of 
wisdom,  and  a  little  usually  makes  most 
noise ;  as  the  Hebrew  proverb  is,  Stater  in 
lagena  his  bis  clamat.  A  penny  in  an  earthen 
pot  keeps  a  great  sound  and  tinlding.  Cer- 
tainly it  is  the  way  to  have  much  inward 
peace,  to  be  wary  in  this  point.  Men  think 
to  have  solace  by  much  free  unbounded  dis- 
course with  others,  and  when  they  have  done 
they  find  it  otherwise,  and  sometimes  con- 
trary. He  is  wise  that  hath  learned  to  speak 
little  with  others,  and  much  with  himself 
and  with  God.  How  much  might  be  gained 
for  our  souls,  if  we  would  make  a  right  use 
of  this  silence!  So  David,  dumb  to  men, 
found  his  tongue  to  God,  Psal.  xxxviii.  13,  15. 
A  spiritually-minded  man  is  quickly  weary 
of  o  Jicr  discourse,  but  of  that  which  he  loves 
and  wherewiih  his  affection  is  possessed  and 
taken  up  ;  Grave  aslimant  i/uic</uid  illud  non 
sonat  ijvod  intusamant.  And  by  experience, 
a  Christian  will  find  it,  when  the  Lord  is 
pleased  to  show  him  most  favor  in  praver  or 
other  spiritual  exercise,  how  unsavory  it 
makes  other  discourses  after  it ;  as  they  who 
have  lasted  something  sinijularly  sweet,  think 
other  tliiri:,''s  that  are  less  sweet,  altc^ether 
tasteless  and  unpleasant. 

Athh/.  In  the  use  of  the  tongue,  when  thou 
dost  speak,  divert  it  from  evil  and  guih;,  by  a 
habit  of,  and  delight  in,  profitable  and  gra- 
cious discourse.  Thus  St.  Paul  makes  the 
opposition,  Eph,  iv.  29.  Let  there  be  no 
rotten  cuininunication  (Tairprf  Uyds).  and  yei  he 
urges  not  total  silence  neither,  but  enjoins 
such  speech  as  may  edify  and  administer 
grace  to  the  hearers.  Now  in  this  we  should 
consider,  lo  the  end  such  discourses  may  be 
more  fruitful,  both  what  is  the  true  end  of 
them,  and  the  right  means  suiting  it.  They 
are  not  only,  nor  principally,  for  the  learning 
of  some  new  things,  or  the  canvassing  of  de- 
bated questions,  but  their  chief  good  is  the 
warming  of  the  heart  ;  stirring  up  in  it  love 
to  God,  and  remembrance  of  our  present  and 
after  estate,  our  mortality  and  irnmortaliiy  ; 
and  extolling  the  ways  of  holiness,  and  the 
promises  and  comforts  of  the  gospel,  and  the 
excellency  of  Jesus  Christ;  and  in  these,, 
sometimes  one  particular,  sometimes  another, 
as  our  particular  condition  requires,  or  any 
occasion  makes  ihem  pertinent.  Therefore 
in  these  disc(.urses,  seek  not  so  much  either 
to  vent  ihy  kriowled;:e,  or  to  increase  it,  as 
to  know  more  spiritually  and  effectually  what 
ihou  dost  know.  And  in  this  way  those 
mean  despi'icd  truths,  that  every  one  thinks 
he  is  sufKcienily  seen  in,  will  have  a  new 


sweetness  and  use  in  them,  which  ihoii  didst 
not  so  well  perceive  before  (for  these  tlowers 
can  not  be  sucked  dry),  and  in  this  humble, 
sincere  way,  thou  shalt  grow  in  grace  and  in 
know/edge  too. 

There  is  no  sweeter  entertainment  than  for 
travellers  to  be  rememberinsj  their  country, 
their  blessed  home,  and  the  happiness  abi- 
ding them  there,  and  to  be  refreshing  and 
encouraging  one  another  in  the  hopes  of  it; 
strengthening  their  hearts  against  all  the 
hard  encounters  and  difficulties  in  the  way  : 
often  overlooking  this  moment,  and  helping 
each  other  to  higher  apprehensions  of  that 
vision  of  God  which  we  expect. 

And  are  not  such  disccurses  much  more 
worthy  the  choosing,  than  the  base  trash  we 
usually  fill  one  another's  ears  withal  ?  Were 
our  tongues  given  us  to  exchange  folly  and 
sin  ?  or  were  they  not  framed  for  the  glorify- 
ing of  God,  and  therefore  are  called  our 
glory?  Some  take  the  expression  for  the 
soul ;  but  they  must  be  one  in  this  work,  and 
then,  indeed,  are  bolh  our  longues  and  our 
souls  truly  our  glory,  when  thev  are  busied 
in  exalting  his,  and  are  tuned  together  to 
that.  That  my  glory  may  sing  praise  to 
ihee  and  not  be  silent.  Psalm  xxx.  12.  In- 
stead of  calumnies,  and  lies,  and  vanities,  the 
carrion  which  (lies — base  litinds  feed  on,  to 
delight  in  divine  things  and  extolling  of  God, 
is  for  a  man  to  cat  angels''  food.  An  excel- 
lent task  for  the  tongue  is  that  which  David 
chooselh,  Psalm  xxxv.  28:  And  my  lon^nie 
shall  s/irak  of  thy  ri s^hleovsness,  and  of  thy 
praise  all  the  day  lon<r.  Were  the  day  ten 
days  long,  no  vacant  room  for  any  unholy,  or 
olfensive,  or  feigned  speech  !  And  thev  lose 
not  who  love  to  speak  praise  to  him,  lor  he 
loves  to  speak  peace  to  iheiii !  and  instead  of 
the  v/orld's  vain  tongue-liberty,  to  have  such 
intercourse  and  discourse,  is  no  sad  melan- 
choly life,  as  the  world  mistakes  it. 

Vf.r.  11.  Let  him  eschew  evil,  and  do  good  ;  1ft  hirn 
seek  peace,  and  ensue  it. 

This  is  a  full  and  complete  rule;  but  it  is 
our  miserable  lolly  to  mistake  so  far  as  to  em- 
brace evil  under  the  notion  of  good  ;  and  not 
only  contrary  to  the  nature  of  the  thing,  hut 
contrary  to  our  own  experience,  still  to  he 
pursuing  that  which  is  still  flying  lurther  off 
from  us,  catching  at  a  vanishing  shadow  of 
delight,  with  nothing  to  fasten  u])on  but  real 
guiltiness  and  misery.  Childish  minds  I  we 
have  been  so  often  gulled,  and  yet  never  grow 
wiser,  still  bewitched  and  deluded  with 
dreams:  a  deceived  heart  (a  mocked  or  de- 
luded heart)  hatli  lurnrd  him  aside.  Isa.  xliv. 
20.  When  we  think  that  we  are  surest,  have 
that  hand  that  holds  fastest,  our  riaht  hand, 
upon  some  good,  and  that  now  surely  wcare 
sjied — even  then  it  proves  a  lie  in  ovr  right 
hand,  sli|)s  through  as  a  handful  of  air  and 
proves  nothing  ;  promises  fair,  hut  doth  mock 
us  (as  the  same  word  is  used  bv  Jacob,  Gen. 
xxxi.  7,  expressing  the  unfaithfulness  of  his 


224 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  \IIE 


[Chap.  HI. 


uncle  who  chanjfcd  his  ways  so  often):  yet 
still  we  foolishly  and  madly  trust  it !  When 
it  makes  so  gross  a  lie,  thai  we  might  easily, 
if  we  took  it  to  the  li^hi,  see  through  it,  be- 
ing a  lie  so  often  discovered,  and  of  known 
falsehood,  yet,  some  new  dream  or  disguise 
makes  it  pass  with  us  again,  and  we  go  round 
ill  that  mill,  havinc:  our  eyes  put  out,  like 
Samson,  and  still  we  are  where  we  were, 
engaged  in  porpelual  fruitless  toil.  Strange! 
that  the  base  deceitful  lusts  of  sin  should  still 
keep  their  credit  with  us  !  but  ihe  heaxi  hath 
a  fahr.  prophet  at  his  side,  Rev.  xix.  20,  to 
commend  him  and  set  him  off  with  new  in- 
ventions, and  causes  us  to  err  hy  his  lies,  as 
it  is  said  of  the  false  prophets,  Jer.  xxiii.  32. 
But  evil  it  is  still  ;  not  only  void  of  all  good, 
but  the  very  deformity  and  debasement  of  the 
soul  ;  defacing  in  it  the  divine  image  of  its 
Maker,  and  impressing  on  it  the  vile  image 
of  Satan.  And,  then,  further,  it  is  attended 
with  shame  and  sorrov,' :  even  at  the  very 
best,  it  is  a  sowing  of  the  wind — there  is  no 
solid  good  in  it— and  withal  a  reaping-  of  the 
vhirhriiid,  vexations  and  horrors.  Hos.  viii.  7. 
They  that  know  it  under  a  sense  of  this  after- 
view,  as  attended  with  the  wrath  of  an  of- 
fended God — ask  them  what  they  think  of 
it ;  whether  they  would  not,  in  those  thoughts, 
choose  any  trouble  or  pain,  thoush  ever  so 
great,  rather  than  willingly  to  adventure  on 
the  ways  of  sin. 

Obedience  is  that  good,  that  beauty  and 
comeliness  of  the  soul,  that  conformity  with 
the  holy  will  of  God,  that  hath  peace  and 
sweeiness  in  it  ;  the  hardest  exercise  of  it  is 
truly  delightful  even  at  present,  and  hereafter 
it  shall  fully  be  so.  Would  we  but  learn  to 
consider  it  thus,  to  know  sin  to  be  the  great- 
est evil,  and  the  holy  will  of  God  the  highest 
good,  it  Would  be  easy  to  persuade  and  pre- 
vail with  men  to  comply  with  this  advice,  to 
escheti'  the  one,  and  i/o  the  other. 

These  do  not  only  reach  the  actions,  but 
require  an  intrinsical  aversion  of  the  heart 
from  sin,  and  a  propcnsion  to  holiness  and 
the  love  of  it. 

Eschcic]  The  very  motion  and  bias  of  the 
soul  must  be  turned  from  sin,  and  carried 
toward  God.  And  this  is  principally  to  be 
considered  by  us,  and  inquired  after  within 
us — an  abhorrence  of  thai  which  is  evil,  as 
the  Scripture  speaks,  Rcrm.  xii.  9  ;  not  a  sim- 
ple forbearinsr,  but  hating  and  loathing  it, 
and  this  spriniring  from  ihe  love  of  God.  Ye 
that  love  the  Lord,  hate  evil,  says  the  Psalm- 
ist, xcvii.  10.  You  will  do  so,  can  not  choose 
but  do  so  ;  and  so  may  you  know  that  love  to 
him  to  be  upright  and  true. 

And  where  this  love  is,  the  avoidance  of 
sin,  and  walking  in  holiness,  or  doing  s-ood, 
■will  be,  1.  More  constant,  not  wavering  with 
the- variation  of  outward  circumstances,  of 
occasion,  or  society,  or  secrecy,  but  going  on 
in  its  natural  course:  as  the  sun  is  as  far 
from  the  earth,  and  goes  as  fast,  under  a 
'■;luud.  as  when  it  is  in  our  sight,  and  goes 


!  cheerfully,  because  from  a  natural  principle 
h  rejoiccth  as  a  strong  vuni  to  r?//i.  Psalm 
xiy.  5;  such  is  the  obedience  of  a  renewed 
mind.  And,  2.  More  universal,  as  proceeding 
from  an  abhorrence  of  all  sin  :  as  natural  an- 
tii)aihies  are  against  the  wlu/le  kind  of  any 
thing.  3  More  exact,  keeping  afar  ofl"  Ironi 
the  very  appearances  of  sin,  and  from  all  the 
inducements  and  steps  toward  it.  And  this 
is  the  true  way  of  escheiring  it. 

Not  a  little  time  of  constrained  forbearance 
during  a  night,  or  the  day  of  participating  of 
the  communion,  or  a  little  time  before,  and 
some  few  days  after  such  services;  for  thus, 
with  the  most,  sin  is  not  dispossessed  and 
cast  out,  but  retires  inward  and  lurks  in  the 
heart.  Being  beset  with  those  ordinances,  it 
knows  they  last  but  awhile,  aiul  therefore  it 
gets  into  its  strength,  and  keeps  close  there, 
till  iLey  be  out  ol'  sight  and  disappear  again, 
and  be  a  good  way  off,  so  that  it  thinks  itself 
out  of  their  danger,  a  good  manv  days  having 
passed,  and  then  it  comes  forth  and  returns  to 
exert  itself  with  liberty,  yea,  it  may  be  with 
more  vigor,  as  it  were  to  regain  the  time  it 
hath  been  forced  to  lose  and  lie  idle  in. 

They  again  miss  of  the  right  manner  of 
this  eschewing,  who  think  themselves,  possi- 
bly, somebody  in  it,  in  thai  they  do  avoid  the 
gross  sins  wherein  the  vulgar  sort  of  sinners 
wallow,  or  do  eschew  such  evils  as  ihey  have 
little  or  no  inclination  of  nature  to.  But 
where  the  heart  stands  against  sin,  as  a 
breach  of  God's  law  and  an  ofience  against 
his  majesty,  as  Joseph,  Shall  1  do  this  evil, 
and  sin  against  God  ?  Gen.  xxxix.  9,  there, 
it  will  carry  a  man  against  all  kind  of  sin, 
the  most  refined  and  the  most  beloved  sin, 
wherein  the  truth  of  this  aversion  is  most 
tried  and  approved.  As  they  who  have  as 
strong  natural  dislike  of  some  kind  of  meat, 
dress  it  as  you  will,  and  mingle  it  with  what 
they  love  best,  yet  they  will  not  willingly 
eat  of  it  ;  and  if  they  be  surprised  and  de- 
ceived some  way  to  swallow  some  of  it,  yet 
they  will  discover  it  afterward,  and  be  rest- 
less till  they  have  vomited  it  up  again  ;  thui 
is  it  with  the  heart  which  hath  that  inward 
contrariety  to  sin  wrought  in  it  by  a  new  na- 
ture— it  will  consent  to  no  reconcilement 
with  it,  nor  with  any  kind  of  it  :  as  in  those 
deadly  feuds  which  were  against  wh(;le  fam- 
ilies and  names  without  excejjtion.  The  re- 
newed soul  will  have  no  fellowship  ivith  the 
unfruitful  works  of  darkness,  as  the  apostle 
speaks,  Eph.  v.  11.  For  what  agreement  is 
there  betwixt  light  and  darkness  f  2  Cor. 
^i.  14.  And  this  hatred  of  sin  works  most 
against  sin  in  a  man's  self;  as  in  things  we 
abhor,  our  reluctance  rises  most  when  they 
are  nearest  us.  A  godly  man  hates  sin  in 
others,  as  hateful  wheresoever  it  is  found  ; 
but  because  it  is  nearest  him  in  himself,  he 
hates  it  most  there.  They  who  by  their  na- 
ture and  breeding  are  somewhat  delicate, 
like  not  to  see  anything  uncleanly  any  where, 
but  least  of  all  in  their  own  house,  and  upon 


Ver.  11.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  01  i^ETER. 


221 


their  own  clothes  or  skin.  This  makes  the 
godly  man,  indeed,  flee  not  only  the  society 
of  evil  men,  but  from  himself;  he  goes  out 
of  his  old  self;  and  till  this  be  done,  a  man 
does  not  indeed  flee  sin,  but  carries  it  still 
with  him  as  an  evil  companion,  or  an  evil 
guide  rather,  that  misleads  him  still  from  the  ' 

ths  of  life.  And  there  is  much,  first  in  the  | 
^ue  discovery,  and  then  in  the  thorough  dis-  j 
union  of  the  heart  from  that  sin  which  is 
most  of  all  a  man's  self,  that  from  which  he 
can  with  the  greatest  difficulty  escape,  that 
besets  him  the  most,  t  /OToi/rrurrn,  Heb.  xii.  1, 
and  lieth  in  his  way  on  all  hands,  hath  aim 
at  every  turn  :  to  disengage  one's  self  and 
get  free  from  that,  to  eschew  ihat  evil,  is  dif- 
ficult indeed.  And  the  task  in  this  is  the 
harder,  if  this  evil  be,  as  oftentimes  it  may 
be,  not  some  gross  sin,  but  one  more  subtle, 
less  seen,  and  therefore  not  so  easily  avoided  ; 
but  for  this  an  impartial  search  must  be  used  : 
if  it  be  among  those  things  that  seem  most 
necessary,  and  that  can  not  be  dispensed 
with,  an  idol  hid  among  the  stuff",  yet  thence 
must  it  be  drawn  forth  and  cast  oiit. 

The  right  eschewing  of  evil,  involves  a 
wary  avoidance  of  all  occasions  and  begin- 
nings of  it.  Flee  fmm  sin  (says  the  wise 
man)  as  from  a  scrppni.  Eccles.  ii.  2.  We 
are  not  to  be  tampering  with  it,  and  coming 
near  i.t,  and  thinking  to  charm  it  ;  "  For,"  as 
one  says,  "  who  will  not  laucrh  at  the  charmer 
that  is  bitten  by  a  serpent  ?"  He  that  thinks 
he  hath  power  and  skill  to  handle  it  without 
danger,  let  him  observe  Solomon's  advice 
concerning  the  strange  woman  :  he  says  not 
only,  do  not  into  her  house,  but,  remove  thy 
W'l  II  far  from  her,  and  cnme  not  near  the  door 
of  her  house.  Frov.  v.  8.  So  teaches  he  wise- 
ly for  the  avoiding  of  that  other  sin  near  to 
U,  Look  not  on  the  wine  when  it  is  red  in  the 
cup.  Prov.  xxiii.  31.  They  that  are  bold  and 
adventurous,  are  often  wounded  :  thus,  hr  that 
removelh  stones  shall  he  hurt  thereby.  Eccles. 
X.  9.  If  we  know  our  own  weakness  and 
the  strength  of  sin,  we  shall  fear  to  expose 
ourselves  to  hazards,  and  be  willin?  even 
to  abridge  ourselves  of  some  things  lawful 
when  they  ])rove  dangerous:  for  he  that  will 
do  always  all  he  lawfully  may,  shall  often 
do  something  thai  lawfully  he  may  not. 

Thus  for  the  other  \do  irood'\.  x\\k  main 
thing  is,  to  be  inwardly  principled  tor  it  ;  to 
have  a  heart  stamped  with  the  love  of  God 
and  his  commandments  ;  to  do  all  for  con- 
science of  his  will,  and  love  to  him,  and  de- 
sire of  his  jrlory.  A  good  action,  even  the 
best  kind  ^of  actions,  in  an  evil  hand,  and 
from  an  evil  uiisanctified  heart,  passes  among 
evil.  J)elic;ht  m  the  Lord  and  in  his  ways. 
David's  Oh  '.  how  love.  I  thy  laic.  Psalm  cx'ix. 
17,  tells  that  he  esteems  it  above  the  richest 
and  pleasantest  things  on  earth,  but  how 
much  he  esteems  and  loves  it  he  can  not 
express. 

And  upon  this  will  follow  (as  observed  in 
regard  to  eschewing  evil)  a  constant  track 


and  course  of  obedience,  moving  directly  con- 
trary to  the  stream  of  wickedness  about  a 
man,  and  also  against  the  bent  of  his  own 
corrupt  heart  within  him ;  a  serious  dosi>re 
and  endeavor  to  do  all  the  good  that  is  with- 
in our  calling  and  reach,  but  especially  that 
particular  good  of  our  calling,  that  which  is 
in  our  hand,  and  is  peculiarly  required  of  us. 
For  in  this  S(jme  deceive  themselves;  they 
look  upon  such  a  condition  as  they  imagine 
were  tit  lor  them,  or  such  as  is  in  their  eye 
wlien  they  look  upon  others,  and  they  think 
if  they  were  such  persons,  and  had  such  a 
place,  and  such  power  and  opportunities,  they 
would  do  great  matters,  and  in  the  mean- 
time they  neglect  that  good  to  which  they 
are  called,  and  which  they  have  in  some 
measure  power  and  place  to  do.  This  is  the 
roving  sickly  humor  of  our  minds,  and 
speaks  their  weakness  ;  as  sick  persons  would 
still  change  their  bed,  or  posture,  or  place 
of  abode,  thinking  to  be  better.  Bu;  a  staid 
mind  applies  itself  to  the  duties  of  its  own 
station,  and  seeks  to  glorify  him  who  set  it 
there,  reverencing  his  wisdom  in  disposing 
of  it  so.  And  there  is  certainty  of  a  blessed 
approbation  of  this  conduct.  Be  thy  station 
never  so  low,  it  is  not  the  high  condition,  but 
much  fidelity,  secures  it:  Thou  hast  been 
faithful  tn  little.  Luke  xix.  17.  We  must 
care  not  only  to  answer  occasions,  when  they 
call,  but  to  catch  at  them,  and  seek  them 
out;  yea,  to  frame  occasions  of  doing  good, 
whether  in  the  Lord's  immediate  service,  de- 
lighting; in  that,  i)rivate  and  public,  or  in  do- 
ing  good  to  men,  in  assisting  one  with  our 
means,  another  with  our  admonitions,  anoth- 
er with  counsel  or  comfort  as  we  can  ;  labor- 
ing not  only  to  have  soniethuiif  of  that  good 
which  is  most  contrary  to  our  nature,  but 
even  to  be  eminent  m  that,  setting  Christian 
resolution,  and  both  the  example  and  strencth 
of  our  Lord  against  all  oppositions,  and  diffi- 
culties, and  discouragements:  I.ooki/tff  unto 
Jesus  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith. 
Heb.  xii.  2. 

We  see,  then,  our  rule,  and  it  is  the  rule- 
I  of  peace  and  hapi)iness  ;  what  hinders  hut 
weap[)ly  our  hearts  to  it  ?  This  is  our  work,, 
and  setting  aside  the  advantage  that  follows, 
consider  the  ihincr  in  itself:  1.  The  opposi- 
tion of  sin  and  obedience,  under  the  name 
of  evil  and  (rood  ;  2.  The  com|)ositi()n  of  our 
rule  in  these  expressions,  eschew  and  do. 
Consider  it  thus — evil  and  <;ood,  and  it  will 
persuade  us  to  eschiw  and  do.  And  if  you 
are  persuaded  to  it,  then,  !.  Desire  light 
from  above,  to  discover  to  you  what  is  evil 
and  offensive  to  God  in  any  kind,  and  what 
pleaseth  him,  what  is  his  will  (for  that  is  the 
rule  and  reason  of  good  in  our  actions,  that 
i/e  may  prove  what  is  the  (rood,  and  holy,  and 
acceptable  uull  of  (iod,  Piom.  xii.  2)  :  and  to 
discover  in  yourselves  what  is  most  adverse 
and  repugnant  to  that  v.^ill.  2.  Seek  a  re- 
newed mind  to  hate  that  evil,  even  such  a» 
is  the  closest  and  most  connatural  to  you, 


22b 


A  COMMENTARY"  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  U\. 


and  tc  love  that  ^ood.  even  that  which  is 
most  contrary.  3.  Seek  strength  and  skill, 
that  by  another  Spirit  than  your  own,  you 
may  aroid  evtl  and  do  ^ood,  and  resist  the 
incursions  and  solicitings  of  evil,  the  artili- 
ces  and  violences  of  Satan,  who  is  both  a 
serpent  and  a  /ion  ;  and  seek  lor  power 
against  your  own  inward  corruption,  and  the 
fallacies  of  your  own  heart.  And  thus  you 
shall  be  able  for  every  good  work,  and  be 
kept,  in  such  a  measure  as  suits  your  present 
estate,  hlamehss  in  spirit,  soul,  and  body,  to 
the  coming  of  Jesus  Christ.  1  Thess.  v.  23. 
•  "  Oh  I"  but  says  the  humble  Christian,  "I 
am  often  entangled  and  plunged  in  soul-evils, 
and  often  frustrated  in  my  ilioughts  against 
these  evils,  and  in  my  aims  at  the  good, 
which  is  my  task  and  duty." 

And  was  not  this  Paul's  condition?  May 
you  not  complain  in  his  languaflfe  ?  And 
happy  will  you  be,  if  you  do  so  with  some 
measure  of  his  feelihg  ;  happy  in  crying  out 
of  wretchedness  !  Was  not  this  his  malady, 
When  J  wou/d  do  good,  evil  is  present  with 
me  ?  Rom.  vii.  21.  But  know  at  once,  that 
though  thy  duty  is  this,  to  eschew  evil  and  do 
good,  yet  thy  salvation  is  more  surely  found- 
ed than  on  thine  own  good.  That  perfection 
which  answers  to  justice  and  the  law,  is  not 
required  of  thee.  Thou  art  to  icalk,  not  after 
the  fesh,  Init  after  the  spirit  ;  but  in  so  walk- 
ing, whether  in  a  low  or  a  hish  measure, 
still  thy  comfort  lieth  in  this,  that  there  is  no 
condemnation  to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Je- 
sus, as  the  apostle  begins  the  next  chapter 
(Rom.  viii.)  after  his  sad  complamts.  Again, 
consider  his  thoughts  in  the  close  of  the  viith 
chapter,  on  perceiving  the  work  of  God  in 
himself,  and  distinguishing  that  from  the 
corrupt  motions  of  nature,  and  so  finding  at 
once  matter  of  heavy  complaint,  and  yet  of 
cheerful  exultation:  O '.  wretched  man  that 
I  am  ;  and  yet  with  the  same  breath,  thanks 
to  God,  throiitrli  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord. 

So  then,  mourn  with  him,  and  yet  rejoice 
with  him,  and  go  on  with  courage  as  he  did, 
still  fshting  the  ^.-"ul  fight  of  faith.  When 
thou  fallesi  in  the  mire,  be  ashamed  and 
humbled,  yet  return  and  wash  in  the  foun- 
tain ojiened,  and  return  and  beg  new  strength 
to  walk  more  surely.  Learn  to  trust  thvself 
less,  and  (rod  more,  and  up  and  be  doing 
against  thy  enemies,  how  tall  and  mighty 
soever  be  the  sons  of  Anak.  Be  of  good 
covraae,  and  the  Lord  shall  be  with  thee, 
and  shall  strengthen  thy  heart,  and  establish 
thy  goings. 

Do  not  lie  down  to  rest  upon  lazy  conclu- 
fions,  that  it  is  well  enough  with  thee,  because 
thou  art  out  of  the  common  puddle  of  profane- 
ness  :  but  look  further,  to  cleanse  thyself  from 
all  filthiness  of  fesh  and  spirit,  perfecting 
holiness  m  the  fear  of  God.  2  Cor.  vii.  L  Do 
not  think  thy  little  is  enough,  or  that  thou 
hast  reason  to  despair  ol"  attaining  more,  but 
press,  press  hard  toward  the  mark,  and  prize 
vf  thy  high  calling.  Phil.  iii.  14.  Do  not  think 


;  all  is  lost,  because  thou  art  at  present  foiled. 

!  Novit  se  stvpe  vicisse  post  sanguinem,  says 
Seneca:  The  experienced  soldier  knows  that 
he  hath  often  won  the  day  alter  a  fall,  or  a 
wound  received  ;  and  be  assured  that  after 
the  short  combats  of  a  moment,  follows  an 
eternity  of  triumph. 

Let  him  seek  peace  and  ensue  it.]  Omitting 
the  many  acceptations  of  the  word  peace,  here 
particularly  external  peace  with  men,  I  con- 
ceive is  meant  ;  and  this  is  to  be  sought,  and 
not  only  to  be  sought  when  it  is  willingly 
found,  but  we  are  to  pursue  and  follow  it  when 
it  seems  to  fiy  away  ;  but  yet,  so  to  pursue 
it,  as  never  to  step  out  of  the  way  of  holiness 
and  righteousness  after  it,  and  to  forsake  this 
rule  that  goes  before  it,  of  eschewing  evil  and 
doing  good.  Yea,  mainly  in  so  doing  is  peace 
to  be  sought  and  pursued,  and  it  is  most  readily 
to  be  found  and  overtaken  in  that  way  :  for  the 
fruit  of  righteousness  is  peace.  James  iii.  18. 

1st,  Consider  that  an  unpeaceabJe,  turbulent 
disposition  is  the  badge  of  a  wicked  mina  ; 
as  the  raging  sea,  slill  casting  up  mire  and 
dirt.  Isa.  Ivii.  20.  But  this  love  ol  peace,  and 
in  all  good  ways  seeking  and  pursuing  it,  is 
the  true  character  of  the  children  of  God, 
!  who  is  the  God  of  peace.  True,  the  ungodly 
(to  prevent  their  own  just  challenge,  as  Ahab) 
j  call  the  friends  of  true  religion,  disturbers, 
and  the  trouhlers  of  Israel,  1  Kings  xviii.  17  ; 
and  this  will  still  be  their  impudence:  but, 
certainly,  they  that  love  the  welfare  of  Jeru- 
salem, do  seek,  and  pray  for,  and  work  for 
peace  all  ihey  can,  as  a  chief  blessing,  and 
the  fruitful  womb  of  multitudes  ol' blessings. 

2dly,  Consider,  then,  that  to  be  deprived  of 
peace,  is  a  heavy  judgment,  and  calls  for  our 
prayers  and  tears  to  pursue  it  and  entreat  its 
return  ;  calls  us  to  seek  it  from  His  hand  who 
is  the  sovereign  dispenser  of  peace  and  war, 
to  seek  to  he  at  peace  with  him,  and  thereby 
good,  all  good  shall  come  unto  us  (Job  xxii.  21 ), 
and  particularly  this  great  good  of  outward 
peace  in  due  time  ;  and  the  very  judgment 
of  war  shall  in  the  event  be  turned  into  a 
blessing.  We  may  pursue  it  among  men, 
and  not  overtake  it  ;  we  may  use  all  good 
means,  and  fall  short  ;  but  pursue  it  up  as  far 
as  the  throne  of  grace,  seek  it  by  prayer,  and 
that  will  overtake  it,  will  be  sure  to  find  it  in 
God's  hand,  who  slillelh  the  waves  of  the  sea, 
and  the  tumults  of  the  people,  if  he  give 
(/Uictness,  who  then  can  disturb  ?  Psalm.  Ixv. 
7  ;  Job  xxxiv.  29. 

He  that  will  love  life.]  This  is  the  attrac- 
tive,— life.  Long  life  and  days  of  good,  is 
the  thing  men  most  desire  ;  for  if  they  be 
evil  days,  then  so  much  the  worse'  that  they 
be  long,  and  the  shortest  of  such  seem  too 
long:  and  if  short,  being  good,  this  cuts  off 
the  enjoyment  of  that  good  :  but  these  two 
complete  the  good, and  suit  it  to  men's  wishes 
— length  and  prosperity  of  life. 

It  is  here  supposed  that  all  would  be  happy, 
that  all  desire  it,  being  carried  to  that  by  na- 
ture, to  seek  their  own  good  ;  but  he  that  will 


Ver.  12.1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


227 


/o"e  it,  that  means  here,  that  will  wisely  love 
it,  that  will  take  the  way  to  it,  and  he  true 
to  his  desire,  must  refrain  his  tongue  /■^om 
evil,  and  his  lips  that  they  speak  no  guile  ;  ne 
must  eschew  evil  and  do  good,  seek  peace  and 
•x'lsue  it.  You  desire  to  see  good  days,  and 
'  et  hinder  them  by  sinful  provocations  ;  you 
esire  good  clear  days,  and  yet  cloud  them  by 
'our  guiltiness. 

Ihus  many  desire  good  here,  yea,  and  con- 
fuse lly  desire  the  good  of  the  life  to  come, 
because  they  hear  it  is  life,  and  long  life,  and 
that  good  is  to  be  found  in  it,  yea,  nothing  but 
good  :  but  in  this  is  our  folly,  we  will  not  love 
it  wisely.  The  face  of  our  desire  is  toward 
it,  but  in  our  course  we  are  rowing  from  it 
down  into  the  dead  sea.  You  would  all  have 
better  times,  peace  and  plenty,  and  freedom 
from  the  molestation  and  expense  of  our  pres- 
ent condition  :  why  will  you  not  be  persuad- 
ed to  seek  it  in  the  true  way  of  it  ? 

But  how  is  this  ?  Do  not  the  righteous 
often  pass  their  days  in  distress  and  sorcow, 
¥0  as  to  have  few  and  evil  days,  as  .Jacob 
speaks,  Gen.  xlix.  7  ?  Yet  is  there  a  truth  in 
this  promise,  annexing  outward  good  things 
to  godliness,  as  having  the  promises  of  this 
life,  and  that  which  is  to  come.  1  Tim.  iv.  8. 
And  it  is  so  accomplished  to  them,  when  the 
Lord  sees  it  convenient  and  conductive  to 
their  highest  good :  but  that  he  most  aims  at, 
and  they  themselves  do  most  desire  ;  and 
therefore,  if  the  abatement  of  outward  good, 
either  as  to  the  length  or  sweetness  of  this 
life,  serve  his  main  end  and  theirs  better,  they 
are  agreed  upon  this  gainful  commutation  of 
good  for  infinitely  better. 

The  life  of  a  godly  man,  though  short  in 
comparison  of  the  utmost  of  nature's  course, 
yet  may  be  long  in  value,  in  respect  of  his  ac- 
tivity and  attainment  to  much  spiritual  good. 
He  may  be  said  to  live  much  in  a  little  time  ; 
whereas  tliey  that  wear  out  their  days  in  folly 
and  sin,  diu  vivunt  sed  parum,  i.  e.,  they  live 
long,  but  little  ;  or,  as  the  same  writer  again 
speaks,  non  diu  vixil,  diu  fuit,  i,  e.,  he  lived 
net  long,  but  existed  long.  And  the  good  of 
the  godly  man's  days,  though  unseen  good, 
surpasses  all  the  world's  mirth  and  prosperity, 
which  makes  a  noise,  but  is  hollow  within, 
as  the  crackling  of  thorns,  a  great  sound,  but 
little  heat,  and  quickly  done.  As  St.  Augus- 
tine says  of  Abraham,  he  had  dies  honos  in 
Deo,  licet  malos  in  secu/o,  good  days  in  God, 
though  evil  days  in  his  generation  ;  a  believer 
can  make  up  an  ill  day  with  a  good  God,  and 
enjoying  him,  he  hath  solid  peace.  But  then 
that  which  is  abiding,  that  length  of  days, 
and  that  dwelling  in  the  house  of  God  in  that 
length  ofdavs,  is  what  ei/e  hath  not  seen,  nor 
ear  heard,  kc.  1  Cor.  ii.  9.  They  are,  in- 
deed, good  days,  or  rather  one  everlasting 
day,  which  has  no  need  o  f  the  sun,  nor  of  the 
moon,  liut  immediately  Hows  from  the  first 
and  increated  Light,  the  Father  of  Lights  ; 
^is  glory  shines  in  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the 
Lighf  thereof. 


Ver.  12.  For  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  over  the  righ- 
teous, and  his.  ears  are  open  unto  their  prayers  ; 
but  the  face  of  the  Lord  is  against  them  that  do 
evil. 

The  wisest  knowledge  of  thmgs  is,  to  know 
them  in  their  causes  ;  but  there  is  no  knowl- 
edge of  causes  so  happy  and  useful,  as  clearly 
to  know  and  firmly  to  believe  the  universal 
dependance  of  all  things  upon  the  first  and 
highest  cause,  the  cause  of  causes,  the  spring 
of  being  and  goodness,  the  wise  and  just  Ruler 
of  the  world. 

This  the  Psalmist,  Psalm  xxxiv.  15,  16,  as 
here  with  him  the  apostle,  give  us  the  true 
reason  of  that  truth  they  have  averred  in  the 
former  words,  the  connexion  of  holiness  and 
happiness.  If  life,  and  peace,  and  all  good  be 
in  God's  hand  to  bestow  when  it  pleaseth  him, 
then  surely  the  way  to  it  is  an  obedient  and 
regular  walking  in  observance  of  his  will  ; 
and  the  way  of  sin  is  the  way  to  ruin :  For 
the  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  upon  the  righteous, 
&c.,  and  his  face  is  against  them  that  do  evil. 

In  the  words  there  is  a  double  opposition  ; 
of  persons,  and  of  their  portion. 

1st,  Of  persons.  The  righteous  and  evil- 
doers. These  two  words  are  often  used  in  the 
Scriptures,  and  particularly  in  the  book  of 
Psalms,  to  express  the  godly  and  the  wicked  ; 
and  so  this  righteousness  is  not  absolute  per- 
fection or  sinlessness,  nor  is  the  opposed  evil 
every  act  of  sin  or  breach  of  God's  law  :  but 
the  righteous  be  they  that  are  students  of 
obedience  and  holiness,  that  desire  to  walk 
as  ill  the  siffht  of  God,  and  to  walk  with  God, 
as  Enoch  did  :  that  are  glad  when  they  caa 
any  way  serve  him,  and  grieved  when  they 
offend  him  ;  that  feel  and  bewail  their  un- 
righteousness, and  are  earnestly  breathing  and 
advancing  forward  ;  have  a  sincere  and  un- 
feigned love  to  all  the  commandments  of  God, 
and  diligently  endeavor  to  observe  them;  that 
vehemently  hate  what  most  pleases  their 
corrupt  nature,  and  love  the  comiiftmd  ihat 
crosses  it  most ;  this  is  an  imperfect  kind  of 
perfection.    See  Phil.  iii.  12,  15. 

On  the  other  side,  evil-doers  are  they  that 
commit  sin  with  greediness  ;  that  walk  in  it, 
make  it  their  way  ;  that  live  in  sin  as  their 
element,  taking;  pleasure  in  unri s^hlcous- 
ness,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  2  Thessaloiiians 
xi.  12:  their  great  faculty,  their  great  delight 
lies  in  sin  ;  they  are  skilful  and  cheerful  evil- 
doers. Not  any  one  man  in  all  kinds  of  sins; 
that  is  impossible  ;  there  is  a  concatenation 
of  sin,  and  one  disposes  and  induces  to  another; 
but  yet  one  ungodly  man  is  commonly  more 
versed  in  and  delighted  with  some  one  kind 
of  sin,  another  with  some  (jlher.  He  forbears 
none  because  it  is  evil  and  hateful  to  God, 
but  as  he  can  not  travel  over  the  whole  globe 
of  wickedness,  and  go  the  full  circuit,  he 
walks  up  and  down  i-  his  accustomed  way 
of  sin.  No  one  mechanic  is  good  at  all  trades, 
nor  is  any  man  expert  in  all  arts  ;  but  he  is 
an  evil-doer  that  follows  the  partic'ar  trade 
of  the  sin  he  hath  chosen,  is  active  anc  dui- 


223 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[CHAr  ni 


gent  in  'hat,  and  finds  it  sweet.  In  a  word, 
this  opposition  lictli  mainly  in  the  bent  of  the 
aireeii(jn,  or  in  the  way  il  is  set.  The  godly 
uiiin  hates  the  evil  he  possibly  by  temptation 
hath  been  drawn  to  do,  and  loves  llie  good  he 
is  frustrated  of,  and,  having  intended,  lialli 
not  attained  to  do.  The  sinner  who  hath  his 
denomination  from  sin  as  his  course,  hates 
(he.  good  which  he  is  sometimes  forced  to  do, 
and  loves  that  sin  which  many  times  he  does 
not,  either  wanting  occasion  and  means,  so 
that  he  can  not  do  it,  or  through  the  check 
of  an  enlightened  conscience,  possibly  dares 
not  do  ;  and  though  so  bound  up  from  the  act, 
as  a  dog  in  a  chain,  yet  the  habit,  the  natural 
inclination  and  desire  in  him,  is  still  the  same, 
Jie  strength  of  his  affection  is  carried  to  sin. 
So  in  the  weakest  godly  man,  there  is  that 
predominant  sincerity  and  desire  of  holy 
Walking,  according  to  which  he  is  called  a 
rigbieous  person,  the  Lord  is  jileased  to  give 
nim  that  name,  and  account  liim  so,  being 
upright  in  heart,  though  often  failing.  There 
is  a  righteousness  of  higher  strain,  upon  which 
his  salvation  liangs  ;  that  is  not  in  him,  but 
upon  him  ;  he  is  clothed  with  it :  but  this 
other  kind,  which  consists  of  sincerity,  and  of 
true  and  hearty,  though  imperfect  obedience, 
IS  the  righteousness  here  meant,  and  opposed 
to  evil-doing. 

2dhj,  Their  opposite  condition,  or  portion, 
is  expressed  in  the  highest  notion  of  it,  that 
wherein  the  very  being  of  happiness  and  misery 
lieth,  the  favor  and  anger  of  God.  As  their 
natures  dilfer  most  by  the  habit  of  their  affec- 
'.ion  toward  God,  as  their  main  distinguishing 
character,  so  the  difference  of  their  estate 
"jonsists  in  the  point  of  his  affection  toward 
.hem,  expressed  here,  in  our  language,  by  the 
livers  aspects  of  bis  countenance  ;  because 
:>UT  love  or  hatred  usually  looks  out,  and 
•shows  itself  that  way. 

Now  for  the  other  word  expressing  his  fa- 
ror  to  thfe  righteous,  by  the  openness  nf  his 
3ar — the  opposition  in  the  other  needed  not 
be  expressed  ;  for  either  the  wicked  pray  not, 
or  if  they  do,  it  is  indeed  no  prayer,  the  Lord 
doth  not  account  or  receive  it  as  such  ;  and 
f  his  face  be  set  against  them,  certainly  liis  | 
3ar  is  shut  against  them  too,  and  so  shut  j 
that  it  openeth  not  to  their  loudest  prayer. 
Though  they  cry  in  mine  ears  rrilh  a  loud 
voice,  yrt  will  I  not  hear  them,  says  the  Lord, 
Ezek.  viii.  18.' 

And  before  we  pass  to  the  particulars  of  i 
their  condition,  as  here  we  have  them  de-  | 
scribed,  this  we  would  consider  a  little,  and  | 
apply  it  to  our  present  business— Who  are  j 
the  persons  whom  the  Lord  thus  regards,  i 
and  to  whose  prayer  he  ojiens  his  ear.  | 

This  we  pretend  to  be  seeking  after,  that 
the  Lord  would  look  favorably  upon  us,  and 
.hearken  to  our  suits,  for  ourselves,  and  this 
land,  and  the  whole  church  of  God  within 
these  kingdoms.  Indeed  i//e  fervent  prayer 
of  II  faithful  man  avail  elh  ii.uch^-  '"x'ci];  it 
ifi  of" great  strength,  a  mighty  thing,  that  can 


bind  and  loose  the  influences  of  heaven  (a? 
lliere  is  instanced,  James  v.  16)  ;  and  if  the 
prayer  of  a  righteous  man,  be  it  but  of  one 
righteous  man,  how  much  more  the  com- 
Irined  cries  of  many  of  them  together  !  And 
that  we  judge  not  the  righteousness  there 
and  here  mentioned  to  be  a  thing  above  hu- 
man estate,  Elias,  says  the  apostle,  was  a 
man,  and  a  man  subject  to  lik»  passions 
as  we  are,  and  yet  such  a  righteous  per- 
son as  the  Lord  had  an  eye  and  gave  ear  te 
in  so  great  a  manner.  But  where  are  those 
righteous  fasters  and  prayers  in  great  con- 
gregations ?  How  few,  if  any,  are  to  be 
found,  who  are  such  but  in  the  lowest  sense 
and  measure,  real  lovers  and  inquirers  after 
holiness!  What  are  our  meetings  here,  but 
assemblies  of  evil-doers,  rebellious  children, 
ignorant  and  profane  persons,  or  dead,  forma! 
professors  ;  and  so,  the  more  of  us,  the  worse, 
incensing  the  Lord  the  more  ;  and  the  multi- 
tude of  prayers,  though  we  could  and  would 
continue  many  days,  all  to  no  purptise  from 
such  as  we.  Though  ye  make  many  prayers, 
when  ye  multiply  prayer,  I  will  not  hear  ; 
and  when  ye  spread  forth  your  hands,  I  will 
hide  mine  eyes  from  you.  Isa.  i.  11.  Your 
hands  are  so  filtliy,  that  if  you  would  follow 
me  to  lay  hold  of  me  with  them,  you  drive 
me  further  off;  as  one  with  foul  hands  fol- 
lowing a  person  that  is  neat,  to  catch  hold  of 
him  ;  and  if  you  spread  them  out  before  me, 
my  eyes  are  pure,  you  will  make  me  turn 
away  ;  I  can  not  endure  to  look  upon  them, 
I  tvill  hide  mine  eyes  from  you.  And  fasting, 
added  with  prayer,  will  not  do  it,  nor  make 
it  pass.  When  they  fast,I  loill  not  liear  their 
cry.    Jer.  xiv.  12. 

It  is  the  sin  of  his  people  that  provokes 
him,  instead  of  looking  favorably  upon  them 
to  have  his  eyes  upon  them  for  evil  and  not 
for  good,  as  he  threatens,  Amos  ix.  4 ;  and 
therefore,  without  putting  away  of  that, 
prayer  is  lost  breath,  doth  no  good. 

They  that  still  retain  their  sins,  and  will 
not  hearken  to  his  voice,  how  can  they  ex- 
pect but  that  justly-threatened  retaliation, 
Prov.  i.  26,  28,  and  that  ihe  Lord,  in  holy 
scorn  in  the  day  of  their  distress,  should  seiid 
them  for  help  and  comfort  to  those  things 
which  they  have  made  their  gods,  and  pre- 
ferred before  him  in  their  trouble  ?  They 
will  say,  arise  and  save  us  ;  but  where  are 
the  gods  that  thou  hast  made  thee  ?  Let 
them  arise,  if  they  can  save  thee  in  the  time 
of  thy  trouble.    Jer.  ii.  5?8. 

And  not  only  do  open  and  gross  impieties 
thus  disappoint  our  prayers,  but  the  lodiiing 
of  any  sin  in  our  affection.  If  J  regard  ini- 
quity in  my  heart,  says  the  psnlmist  (Psnlin 
Ixvi.  18),  the  Lord  will  not  hear  my  mire. 
The  word  is.  If  I  see  iniquity  ;  if  mine  eye 
look  pleasantly  upon  i',  his  will  not  look  so 
upon  me,  nor  shall  I  find  his  ear  so  ready  and 
open.  He  says  not.  If  I  do  sin,  but.  If  I  re- 
gard it  in  my  heart.  The  heart's  entertaining 
and  embracing  a  sin,  though  it  be  a  smsi!  ft 


Ver.  12.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


S29 


Bin,  is  more  than  the  simple  falling  into  sin. 
And  as  the  ungodly  do  for  this  reason  lose  all 
.heir  prayers,  a  godly  man  may  suffer  this 
way,  in  some  degree,  upon  some  degree  of 
guiltiness.  The  heart  being  seduced,  it  may 
be,  and  entangled  for  a  time  by  some  sinful 
lust,  Christians  are  sure  to  find  a  stop  in  their 
prayers,  that  they  neither  go  nor  come  so 
quickly  and  so  comfortably  as  before.  Any 
sinful  humor,  as  rheums  do  our  voice,  binds 
up  the  voice  of  prayer,  makes  it  not  so  clear 
clear  and  shrill  as  it  was  wont :  and  the  accu- 
sing guilt  of  it  ascending,  shuts  up  the  Lord's 
ear,  thai  he  doth  not  so  readily  hear  and  an- 
swer as  before.  And  thus  that  sweet  corre- 
spondence is  interrupted,  which  all  the  de- 
lights of  the  world  can  not  compensate.  If 
then,  you  would  have  easy  and  sweet  accesses 
to  God  in  prayer, 

1.  Seek  a  holy  heart ;  entertain  a  constant 
care  and  study  of  holiness ;  admit  no  parley 
with  sin  ;  do  not  so  moL-h  as  hearken  to  it,  if 
you  would  be  readily  heard. 

2.  Seek  a  broken  heart ;  the  Lord  is  ever 
at  hand  to  that,  as  it  is  in  Psalm  xxxiv., 
whence  the  aposile  cites  the  words  now  un- 
der our  consideration,  He  is  nt^h  to  them  that 
are  of  a  contrite  spirit,,  v.  18,  &c.  ;  it  is  an 
excellent  way  to  prevail.  The  breaking  of 
the  heart  multiplies  petitioners  ;  every  piece 
of  it  hath  a  voice,  and  a  very  strong  and  very 
moving  voice,  that  enters  his  ear,  and  siirs 
the  bowels  and  compassions  of  the  Lord 
toward  it. 

3.  Seek  an  humble  heart.  That  may  pre- 
sent its  suit  always  ;  the  court  is  constantly 
there,  even  wiihin  it:  the  Great  King  love's 
•o  make  his  abode  and  residence  in_it.  Isa. 
Ivii.  13.  This  is  the  thing  that  the  Lord  so 
delights  in  and  requires  ;  he  will  not  fail  to 
accept  of  it  ;  it  is  his  choice,  Mic.  vi.  7,  8, 
Whrrewith  shall  I  come  hejore  the  Lord  ?  kr. 
He  hath  showed  (hre,  O  man,  what  is  good  ; 
and  what  doth  the  Lord  require  of  thee,  hut  to 
do  justly,  and  love  mercy?  There  is  this 
righteousness,  and  that  as  a  great  part  ma- 
king it  up,  fo  walk  hurnhlij  with  thy  God  ;  in 
the  original,  AfimWf  to  walk  with  thi/  God; 
he  can  not  agree  with  a  proud  heart;  he 
hates,  resists  it ;  and  lico  can  not  walk  to<reth- 
er  unless  they  he  atireed,  as  the  jirophet 
speaks,  Amos  iii.  3.  The  humble  heart  only 
iS  company  f)r  God,  has  liberty  to  walk,  and 
converse  with  him.  He  f^ive's  i;roce  to  the 
humhle  ;  he  bows  his  ear,  if  thou  lift  not  up 
thy  neck:  proud  beggars  he  turns  away  with 
disdain, and  the  lumblest  suitersalways  speed 
best  with  him.  The  ris^hteous,  not  such  in 
their  own  eyes,  jut  in  his,  through  his  gra- 
C.ous  dignaiion  and  acceptance.  And  is 
there  not  reason  to  come  humbly  before  him 
— base  worms,  to  the  most  holy  and  most 
high  God  ? 

The  eye%  of  the  Lord.]  \Vc  see,  1.  That 
both  are  in  his  sii;ht,  the  ri^hiefjus  and  the 
wicked;  all  of  them,  and  all  their  ways.  His 
eve  is  on  th";  one,  and  his  liice  on  the  other. 


'as  the  woid  is;  but  so  on  these  as  to  be 
'  against  them.    It  is  therefore  rendered  as 
denoting  his  eye  of  knowledge  and  obser- 
^  vance,  marking  them  and  their  actions,  which 
I  is  equally  upon  both.    There  is  no  darkneti 
!  nor  shadow-  of  death  where  the  workers  of  in' 
\  iquiiy  may  hide  themselves.  Job  xxxiv.  22. 
Foolishly  and  wreichedly  done,  to  do  that, 
I  or  think  that,  which  we  would  hide  from 
I  the  Lord,  and  then  to  think  that  we  can 
I  hide  it  I    The  prophet  speaks  wo  to  such: 
Wo  to  them  that  dig  deep  to  hide  their 
counsel  from  the  Lord,  and  their  works  are 
in  the  dark,  and  they  say.  Who  seeth  us,  and 
who  knoweth  us  ?   Isa.  xxix.  15.    And  this  is 
the  grand  principle  of  all  wickedness  (not,  i 
may  be,  expressly  stated,  but  secretly  lying 
in  the  soul),  an  habitual  forgetting  of  God 
and  his  eye,  not  considering  that  he  beholds 
us.    Ye  that  forget  God,  says  the  psalmist 
(1.  22)  ;  thence  all  impiety  proceeds  ;  and,  on 
the  other  side,  the  rememhrance  of  his  eye,  is 
a  radical  point  of  piety  and  holiness,  in  which 
the  cxxxixth  Psalm  is  large  and  excellent. 

But,  2,  as  the  Lord  doth  thus  equally  see 
both,  so  that  his  eye  and  countenance  import 
!  his  mind  concerning  them  and  toward  tiiem, 
i  the  manner  of  his  beholding  them  is  different, 
vea  contrary.    And  from  the  other — the  be- 
holding them  in  common — knowing  their 
ways- — arises  this  different  beholdinij;,  which 
(as  usually  words  of  sense  signify  also  the  af- 
fection, verba  se/isus  connotant  affectum)  is 
!  the  approving  and  disliking,  the  loving  and 
hating  them,  and  their  ways:  so  he  pecu- 
liarly knows  the  ri'^hteovs  and  their  ways, 
Psalrn  i.  6,  and  knows  not,  never  knew,  the 
workers  of  iniijuity  ;  even  tht)se  that  by  their 
profession  would  plead  most  acquaintance, 
and  familiar  converse,  eating  and  drinking 
in  his  presence,  and  yet  I  know  you  not, 
whence  you  are.   Luke  viii.  26.    It  is  not  a 
breaking  off  from  former  acquaintance;  no, 
he  doth  not  that  ;  he  disavows  none  that 
j  ever  were  truly  acquainted  with  him.  So 
the  other  evangelist  hath  it.  Matt.  vii.  29  ;  of 
j  those  that  thought  to  have  been  in  no  small 
account,  /  never  knew  you,  depart  from  me  ; 
j  and  the  convincing  reason  lies  in  that.  Ye 
w-orkfrsof  ijii'juity:  none  of  his  favorites  and 
friends  are  such. 

[  Thus  here,  his  eye,  his  gracious  eye  for 
good,  is  on  the  righteous  :  and  his  face,  nis 

[  angry  looks,  bis  just  wrath,  against  evil-doers. 

j  In  the  xiih  Psalm  we  have  this  expressed 
after  the  same  way.  First,  what  we  spoke 
of  God's  knowing  and  beholding  in  common 
the  riirhteous  and  wicked,  and  their  ways,  is 
represented  by  his  sitting  on  hiirh,  where  he 
may  mark,  and  see  clear  y  throughout  all 
places  and  all  hearts.  His  throne  is  in  heav- 
en, his  eyes  behold ,  his  eyelids  try  the  chil- 
dren of  men,  ver.  4.  He  sits  in  heaven,  not 
as  in  a  chair  of  rest,  regardless  of  human 
things,  but  on  a  throne  for  ffoverning  and 

'  judgini;:  tbou^ii  with  as  little  uneasiness  and 

i  disturbance,  as  if  there  were  nothing  to  be  done 


230 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  Ill 


that  way.  His  eyes  behold,  not  in  a  fruitli'S? 
conteuiijlaiicn  or  knowlftlsrL',  but  his  >:ycliils 
try,  which  signiiie!;  an  intent  iiis])cction,  sucli 
as  men  usually  make  witli  a  kind  of  motion 
oi'tiieir  eyeliiis.  Tiien  upon  this  is  added  the 
dilVerent  portion  of  tiie  riahteous  and  wicked, 
in  his  beholding  them  and  dealing  with  them: 
The  Lord  truth  the  ni^'^hlciuis,  ver.  5,  ap- 
pro>  es  what  is  good  in  them,  and  by  trial 
and  affliction  doth  purge  out  what  is  evil  ; 
and  in  both  these  there  is  love ;  but  the  u  ick- 
ed,  and  him  that  lovelh  violence,  his  soul  ha- 
telh ;  and  therefore,  as  here.  His  face  is 
at^aiiisl  them.  His  soul  and  face  are  all  one, 
but  these  things  are  expressed  after  our  man- 
ner. He  looks  upon  them  with  indignation  ; 
and  thence  come  the  storms  in  the  next 
verse,  Snares  rained  down,  ver.  6  ;  the  wari- 
est foot  can  not  avoid  such  snares,  they  come 
down  upon  them  from  above  :  Fire  and  brim- 
stone and  burning  tempest  (alluding  to  Sorf- 
o/n's  judgment,  as  an  emblem  of  the  punish- 
ment of  all  the  wicked)  ;  this  i.<  the  portion 
of  their  cup.  There  is  a  cup  for  them  ;  but 
his  children  drink  not  with  them.  They 
have  another  cup,  the  Lord  himself  is  the 
portion  of  their  cup.  Psalm  xvi.  5.  As  the 
xith  Psalm  closes,  The  righteous  Lord  lov- 
eth  righteousness  :  his  countenance  doth  be- 
hold the  upright  :  that  is  another  beholding 
than  the  former,  a  gracious,  loving  behold- 
ing :  as  here,  His  eyes  are  upon  the  righteous. 

Now  the  persuasion  of  this  truth  is  the 
main  establishment  of  a  godly  mmd,  amid  all 
the  present  confusions  that  appear  in  things: 
and  it  is  so  here  intended,  as  well  as  in  the 
Psalm  I  have  mentioned,  and  throughout  the 
Scriptures. 

To  look  upon  the  present  flourishing  and 
prosperity  of  evil-doers,  and  on  the  distresses 
and  sorrows  of  the  godly,  is  a  dark  obscure 
matter  in  itself;  but  the  way  to  be  cleared 
and  comforted,  is,  to  look  above  them  to  the 
Lord.  They  looked  unto  him  and  icere  light- 
ened. Psalm  xxxiv.  5.  That  answers  all 
doubis,  to  believe  this  undoubted  providence 
and  justice,  the  eye  of  God  that  sees  all,  yea, 
rules  all  these  things.  And  in  the  midst  of 
all  the  painted  happiness  of  wicked  men, 
this  is  enough  to  make  them  miserable.  The 
Lord^s  face  is  against  them  :  and  they  shall 
surely  find  it  so.  He  hath  wrath  and  judg- 
■^neni  in  store,  and  u  ill  bring  it  forth  to  light, 
■will  execute  it  in  due  time  ;  he  is  preparing 
for  them  that  cup  spoken  of,  and  they  shall 
drink  it.  So,  in  the  saddest  condition  of  his 
church  and  a  believing  soul,  to  know  tliis, 
that  the  Lord's  eye  is  even  then  upon  them, 
and  that  he  is  upon  ihou^hts  of  peace  and 
l(jve  to  them,  is  that  which  settles  and  com- 
poses the  mind.  Thus,  in  that  Psalm  before 
cited,  it  was  such  difficulties  that  did  drive 
David's  thoughts  to  that  for  satisfaction;  If 
the  foundations  be  destroyed,  what  can  the 
righteous  do  ?  Psalm  xi.  2.  In  the  time  of 
such  great  shakings  and  conlusions,  the  righ- 
ieou=>nian  can  do  nothing  to  it,  but  the  righte- 


ous Lord  can  do  enough  ;  he  ran  do  all,  Thu 
iighleous  Loid  that  iovetU  ri<;hteou.sness. 
While  all  seems  to  go  upside  down,  Jle  is  on 
his  throne,  he  is  trying  and  judging,  and 
will  appear  to  be  judge.  This  is  the  thing 
that  faithful  Souls  should  learn  to  look  to, 
and  not  lose  view  and  firm  belief  of,  aiid 

\  should  desire  the  Lord  himself  to  raise  their 
minds  to  it,  when  they  are  ready  to  sink. 
Natural  strength  and  resolution  will  not  serve 
the  turn  ;  floods  may  come  that  will  arise 
above  that  ;  something  above  a  man's  cwp 
spirit  must  support  him:  therefore  say  with 
David,  Psalm  Ixi.  2,  When  my  spirit  is  over- 

'  whelmed,  lead  me  to  the  rock  thai  is  higher 

I  than  L  They  think  sometimes  it  is  so  hard 
with  them,  that  he  regards  not;  but  he  as- 
sures them  to  the  contrary,  1  have  graven 

I  thee  upon  the  palms  of  mine  hands,  Isa.  xlix. 
16.    1  can  not  look  upon  my  own  hands,  but 

1  must  remember  thee:  Atid  thy  vails  are 
'  continually  before  me.    This  is  what  the 

spouse  seeks  for.  Set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine 
I  arm.    Cant.  viii.  6. 

j  Now  a  little  more  particularly  to  consider 
the  expressions,  and  their  scope  here  :  how  is 
that  made  good  which  the  formerwords  teach, 
that  they  who  walk  in  the  ways  of  wicked- 
ness can  expect  no  good,  but  are  certainly 
miserable  ?  Thus  :  The  face  of  the  Lord  is 
against  them.  Prosper  they  may  in  their  af- 
fairs and  estates,  may  have  riches,  and  pos- 
terity, and  friends,  and  the  world  caressing 
them  and  smiling  on  them  on  all  hands  ;  hut 
there  is  that  one  thing  that  damps  all,  the 
face  of  the  Lord  is  against  them.  This  they 
feel  not  indeed  for  the  time  ;  it  is  an  invisible 
ill,  out  of  sight  and  out  of  mind  with  them  ; 
but  there  is  a  time  of  the  apjiearing  of  this 
face  of  the  Lord  against  them,  the  revelation 
of  his  rii^hieous  jud gincnt,  as  the  apostle 
speaks,  Romans  ii.  5.  Sometimes  they  have 
precursory  days  of  it  here  ;  there  is,  however, 
one  great  prefixed  day,  a  day  of  darkness  to 
them  indeed,  wherein  they  shall  know  what 
this  is,  that  now  sounds  so  light,  to  have  the 
face  of  the  Lord  against  them.  A  look  of  it 
is  more  terrible  than  all  present  miseries  com- 
bined together  :  what  then  shall  the  eternity 
of  it  be?  to  be  punisbcd  (as  the  apostle  speaks) 
with  everlasting  desi  ruction  from  the  presence 
of  the  Lord,  and  the  glory  of  his  power  '. 

2  Thess.  i.  9. 

Are  we  not  then  impertinent  foolish  crea- 
tures, who  are  so  thcjughiful  how  our  poor 
business  here  succeed  with  us,  and  how  we 
are  accounted  of  in  the  world,  an'l  how  the 
faces  of  men  are  toward  us,  and  scarcely  ever 
enter  into  a  secret  serious  inquiry  how  the 
countenance  of  God  is  to  us,  whether  favora 
bly  shining  on  us,  or  still  angrily  set  agains 
us,  as  it  is  against  all  mipeniient  sinners? 

The  face  of  the  soul  being  toward  God 
turned  away  from  the  world  and  sin,  argues 
for  it,  that  liis  face  is  not  against  it,  but  that 
he  hath  graciously  looked  upon  it,  and  by  a 
look  of  love  hath  drawn  it  towsrd  him^sif 


Vee.  .2.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


231 


lor  we  aci  not  tirst  in  that.  Nnn  amatur  Deus 
nist  de  Deo  :  There  is  no  love  ot  Gcd  but 
what  comes  from  God.  It  is  he  that  prevents 
us,  and  by  the  beams  of  his  love  kindles  love 
in  our  hearts.  Now  the  soul  that  is  thus  set 
toward  him,  it  may  be,  doth  not  constantly 
see  here  his  face  shining  full  and  clear  upon 
it,  but  often  clouded  ;  nay,  it  may  be,  such  a 
soul  hath  not  yet  at  all  seen  it  sensibly  ;  yet 
this  it  may  conclude,  "  Seeing  my  desires  are 
toward  him,  and  my  chief  desire  is  the  sweet 
light  of  his  countenance,  though  as  yet  I  find 
not  his  face  shining  on  me,  yet  I  am  per- 
suaded it  is  not  set  against  me  to  destroy  me." 
Misbelief,  when  the  soul  is  much  under  its 
influence  and  distempered  by  it,  may  suggest 
this  sometimes  too:  but  yet  still  there  is  some 
spark  of  hope  that  it  is  otherwise — that  the 
eye  of  ihe  Lord's  pity  is  even  in  that  estate 
upon  us,  and  will  in  time  manifest  itself  to 
be  so. 

To  the  other  question.  What  assurance  have 
the  godly  for  that  seeing  of  good,  these  bles- 
sings you  speak  of?  This  is- the  answer: 
The  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  upon  them,  and  his 
ears  open  to  their  prayer.  If  you  think  him 
wise  enough  to  know  what  is  good  for  them, 
and  rich  enough  to  afford  it,  they  are  sure  of 
one  thing,  he  loves  them  ;  they  have  his  good 
will  ;  his  heart  is  toward  them,  and  therefore 
his  eye  and  his  ear.  Can  they  then  want  any 
good  ?  H  rnani/  days  snd  outward  good  things 
be  indeed  good  fur  them,  they  can  nut  miss 
of  these.  He  hath  given  ihem  already  much 
better  things  than  these,  and  hath  yet  far  bet- 
ter in  store  for  them :  and  what  wav  soever 
the  world  go  with  them,  this  itself  is  happi- 
ness enough,  that  they  are  in  his  love,  whose 
loving  kindness  is  better  than  life,  Ps.  Ixiii.  3. 
Sweet  days  have  they  that  live  in  it.  What 
belter  days  would  courtiers  wish,  than  to  be 
still  in  the  eye  and  favor  of  the  king,  to  be 
certain  of  his  good  will  toward  them,  and  to 
know  of  access  and  of  a  gracious  acceptance 
of  all  their  suits  ?  Now  thus  it  is  with  all  the 
servants  of  the  Great  King,  without  prejudice 
one  to  another ;  he  is  ready  to  receive  their 
req'jsls,  and  able  and  willing  to  do  them 
all  good.  Happy  estate  of  a  believer !  lie 
must  not  account  himself  poor  and  destitute 
in  any  condition,  for  he  liath  favor  at  court  ; 
he  hath  the  King's  eye  and  his  ear  :  the  eyes  ^ 
of  the  Lord  are  upon  him,  and  his  ears  open  i 
to  his  prayers. 

The  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  upon  the  righte-  I 
ous.]    This  liath  in  it,  1.  His  love,  the  pro-! 
pension  of  his  heart  toward  them.    The  eye 
is  the  servant  of  the  affection  ;  it  naturally 
turns  that  way  most  where  the  heart  is.  I 
Therefore  thus  the  I>ord  is  pleased  to  speak 
of  his  love  to  his  own.    He  views  still  all  the 
world,  ijut  he  Irjoks  upon  them  with  a  pecu- 
liar delight  :  his  eye  is  still  on  them,  as  it 
were,  turned  toward  them  from  all  the  rest 
of  the  world.    Though  he  doth  not  always 
let  them  see  these  his  looks  (for  it  is  not  said, 
tlie>  are  always  in  sight  of  it ;  no,  not  here, , , 


yet  still  his  eye  is  indeed  upon  them,  attract- 
ed bv  the  beauty  of  grace  in  them,  his  owr 
work  mdeed,  the  beauty  that  he  himself  hath 
put  upon  them.  And  so  as  to  the  other,  his 
ear  too  ;  he  is  willing  to  do  for  them  what 
they  ask  :  he  loves  even  to  hear  them  speak  : 
finds  a  sweetness  in  the  voice  of  their  prayers, 
that  makes  his  ear  not  only  open  to  their 
prayers,  but  desirous  of  them  as  sweet  music. 
Thus  he  speaks  of  both,  Cant.  ii.  14,  My  dove, 
let  me  see  thy  countenance,  let  me  hear  thy 
voice,  for  sweet  is  thy  voice,  and  thy  counte- 
nance  is  comely. 

2.  The  phrase  expresses  his  good  provi- 
dence and  readiness  to  do  them  good  ;  to  sup 
ply  their  wants,  and  order  their  affairs  fot 
them  ;  to  answer  their  desires,  and  thus  to 
let  them  find  the  fruits  of  that  love  which  sc 
leads  his  eye  and  ear  toward  them.  His  eye 
IS  upon  them ;  he  is  devising  and  thinking 
what  to  do  for  them  ;  it  is  the  thing  he  thinks 
on  most.  His  eyes  are  upon  all,  but  they  are 
busied,  as  he  is  pleased  to  express  it,  they  run 
to  and  fro  through  the  earth,  to  show  himself 
strons  in  behalf  of  them  u-hose  heart  is  per- 
fect toward  him,  Kc.  2  Chronicles  xvi.  9.  Sc 
Deut.  xi.  12  :  His  eyes  are  all  the  year  on  the 
land.  No  wonder,  then,  he  answers  their 
suits  in  what  is  good  for  them,  when  it  is 
still  in  his  thoughts  before.  He  prevents  them 
with  the  blessings  of  his  goodness.  Psalm  xxi. 
3  :  they  can  not  be  so  mindful  of  themselves 
as  he  is  of  them. 

This  is  an  unspeakable  comfort,  when  a 
poor  believer  is  in  great  perplexity  of  any 
kind  in  his  outward  or  spiritual  condition. 
"  Well,  I  see  no  way  :  I  am  blind  in  this,  but 
there  are  eyes  upon  me,  that  see  well  what  is 
best.  The  Lord  is  minding  me,  and  bringing 
about  all  to  my  advantage.  1  am  poor  and 
nredy  indeed,  but  the  Lord  thinketh  on  me, 
Ps.  xi.  17."  That  turns  the  balance.  Would 
not  a  man,  though  he  had  nothing,  think  him- 
scll'  happy,  if  some  great  prince  was  busily 
thinking  how  to  advance  and  enrich  him? 
!\Iuch  more,  if  a  number  (/f  kings  were  \i\wn 
this  thought,  and  devising  together.  Ye'. 
these  Ihou'jhts  ini'jht  perish,  as  the  jisalmisi 
speaks.  Psalm  cxlvi.  4.  How  much  more 
solid  happiness  is  it  to  have  him,  whose 
power  is  greatest,  and  whose  thoughts  fail 
not.  eying  thee,  and  devising  thy  good,  and 
asking  us,  as  it  were.  What  shall  he  done  tt 
the  man  whom  the  king  will  honor  ? 

And  his  ears  are  open  unto  their  prayer.] 
What  suits  thou  hast,  thou  mayest  speak 
freely  ;  he  will  not  refuse  thee  anything  that 
is  for  thy  good. 

"  0  !  but  I  am  not  rii^hleous,  and  all  this  is 
for  the  righteous  only."  Yet  tlutu  wouldst 
he  such  a  one.  Wouldst  thou  indeed  ?  then 
in  part  thou  art  fas  he  who  modestly  and 
wisely  changed  the  name  of  wisemen  into 
philosophers,  lovers  of  wisdom),  art  thou  not 
righteous?  yet,  (  <*'>''  "''>«i  a  lover  of  riirhte- 
ousness,  thou  art;  llieti  thou  art  one  of  the 
righteous.    If  still  thine  own  unrighteousness 


232 


A  COMMENTARY  UPt  N  THE 


I  Chap.  in. 


bo  in  thine  eye,  it  may  and  should  be  so,  lo  ' 
hunil  le  iliee ;  but  if  it  should  scare  thee  j 
from  coming  unto  God,  and  ctVering  th\  suits 
with  this  persuasion,  that  /iix  car  is  open, 
should  it  make  tiiee  think  thai  his  favorable  i 
eye  is  not  toward  thee,  yet  there  is  mercy  ; ' 
creep  in  under  the  robe  of  his  Sou.    Thou  art 
sure  he  is  Jesus  Christ  the  rii^hleous,  and  that  ' 
the  Father's  eye  is  on  him  with  delight,  and  j 
then  it  shall  be  so  on  thee,  being  in  him.  Put ' 
thy  ])etitions  into  his  hand,  who  is  the  great 
Master  of  Requests  ;  thou  canst  not  doubt 
that  he  hath  access,  and  that  he  bath  that  ear 
open  to  him,  which  thou  thinkest  shut  to  thee. 

The  exercise  of  prayer  being  so  inijiortant, 
and  bearing  so  great  a  part  in  the  life  and 
comfort  of  a  Christian,  it  deserves  to  be  very 
s»  riously  considered.  We  will  therefore  sub- 
jt  in  some  few  considerations  concerning  it.  | 

Prayer  may  be  considered  in  a  threefold 
n  ition.  1.  As  a  duty  we  owe  to  God.  As  it 
ir  from  him  we  expect  and  receive  all,  it  is  a 
Very  reasonable  homage  and  acknowledg- 
rient,  thus  to  testify  the  dependance  of  our 
>-eing  and  life  on  him,  and  the  dependance 
o/our  souls  upon  him,  for  beinsr,  and  life,  and 
all  good  ;  that  we  be  daily  suiters  before  his 
throne,  and  go  to  him  for  all.  2.  As  it  consti- 
tutes the  dignity  and  the  delight  of  a  spiritual 
mind,  lo  have  so  near  access  unto  God,  and 
such  liberty  to  sjieak  to  him.  3.  As  a  proper 
and  sure  means,  by  divine  appointment  and 
promise,  of  obtaining  at  the  hands  of  God 
those  good  things  that  are  needful  and  con- 
venient fur  us.  And  although  some  believers 
of  lower  knowledge  do  not  (it  may  be)  so  dis- 
tinctly know%  and  others  not  so  particularly 
consider,  all  these  in  it,  yet  there  is  a  latent 
notion  of  them  all  in  the  heart  of  every  godly 
person,  which  stirs  them  and  puts  them  on 
to  the  constant  use  of  prayer,  and  to  a  love 
of  it. 

And  as  they  are  in  these  respects  inclined 
and  bent  to  the  exercise  of  prayer,  the  Lord's 
es.r  is  in  like  manner  inclined  to  bear  their 
piayer  in  these  respects.    1.  He  takes  it  well 
at  their  hands,  that  they  do  offer  it  u|)  as  due 
worship  to  him,  that  they  desire  thus  as  they  , 
Clin  to  serve  him.    He  accepts  of  those  offer- ; 
irigs  graciously,  passes  by  the  imperfections 
ill  them,  and  hath  regard  to  their  sincere  in-  j 
ftntion  and  desire.    2.  It  pleases  him  well 
that  they  delight  in  prayer,  as  converse  w-ith 
him;  that  they  love  to  be  much  with  him,  I 
and  to  speak  to  him  C)ften,  and  still  aspire,  by  j 
this  way,  to  more  acquaintance  with  him  : 
that  they  are  ambitious  of  this.    3.  He  wil- 
lingly hears  their  prayers  as  the  expressions 
of  their  necessities  and  desires  ;  being  both  , 
rich  and  bountiful,  he  loves  to  have  blessings' 
drawn  out  of  his  bands  that  way  :  as  full 
breasts  delight  to  be  drawn.     The  Lord's; 
treasure  is  always  iuU,  and  therefore  he  is 
always  communicative.    In  the  first  respect, 
prayer  is  acceptable  to  the  Lord  ns  ijicense  j 
<ind  sarrifice,  as  David  desires,  Ps.  cxli.  12: 
•te  Lord  receives  it  as  divine  worship  done  i 


to  him.  In  the  second  respect,  prayer  is  as 
the  visits  and  sweet  entertainment  and  dis- 
course of  friends  together,  and  so  is  pleasing 
to  the  Lord,  as  the  free  opening  of  the  mind, 
the  poiirinff  out  of  the.  heart  to  him,  as  it  is 
called.  Psalm  Ixii.  8  ;  and  David,  in  Psalm  v.  1, 
calls  it  his  xrords  and  his  meditaiion  ;  ihr 
word  for  that  signifies  discourse  or  conference. 
And,  in  the  third  sense,  the  Lord  receives 
prayer  as  the  suits  of  petitioners  who  are  in 
favor  with  him,  and  whom  he  readily  accords 
to.  And  this  the  word  for  svpp/ication  in  the 
original,  and  the  word  here  rendered  prayer, 
and  that  rendered  cnj  in  the  Psalm,  do  mean  ; 
and  in  that  sense,  the  Lord's  open  ear  and 
hearkening  bath  in  it  his  readiness  to  answer, 
as  one  that  doth  bear,  and  to  answer  gracious- 
ly and  really,  as  bearing  favorably. 

I  shall  now  add  some  directions  :  I.  For 
prayer,  that  it  may  be  accepted  and  answered. 
II.  For  observing  the  answers  of  it. 

I.  For  prayer.  I.  The  qualification  of  the 
heart  that  offers  it.  2.  The  way  of  offering 
it. 

1.  As  to  the  qualification  of  the  heart,  it 
must  be  in  some  measure,  !.<;/,  A  holy  heart, 
according  to  thut  word  here,  the  righteous. 
There  must  be  7io  reizardim^  iniquity,  no  en- 
tertainiiig  of  friendship  with  any  sin,  but  a 
permanent  love  and  desire  of  holiness.  Thus, 
indeed,  a  man  prays  within  himself,  as  in  a 
sanctified  place,  whether  the  Lord's  ear  in- 
clines, as  of  old  10  the  Temple.  Heneedsnot 
run  superstitiously  to  a  church,  &e.  Intra  te 
era,  sed  videpriiis  an  sis  iernplum  Dei  ;  Pray 
inwardly,  but  first  see  whether  thou  art  thy- 
self a  leinple  of  God.  The  sanctified  man's 
body  is  t)ie  te7nple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  the 
apostle  speaks,  1  Cor.  vi.  19  ;  and  his  soul  is  ' 
the  priest  in  it  that  offers  sacrifice  :  both  holy 
to  the  Lord,  consecrated  to  him.  2d/y,  It 
must  be  a  believing  heart,  for  there  is  no 
praying  without  this.  Faith  is  the  very  life 
of  prayer,  whence  spring  hope  and  comfort 
with  it,  to  uphold  the  soul,  and  keep  it  steady 
under  storms  with  the  promises  :  and  as  Aaron 
and  Hur  to  Moses,  keeiiing  it  from  fainting, 
strengthening  liie  bands  when  they  would 
begin  to  fail.  Such  is  the  force  of  that  word. 
Psalm  X.  17  :  for  the  jireparins  of  the  heart 
which  God  ^ives  as  an  assurance  and  i)ledge 
of  his  ini-lhuns;  his  ear  to  hear,  signifies  the 
estah/ishing  of  the  heart  ;  that,  indeed,  is  a 
main  point  of  its  preparedness,  and  due  dis- 
position for  prayer.  Now  this  is  done  by 
faith,  without  which,  the  soul,  as  the  Apostle 
St.  James  speaks,  is  a  rolling  unquiet  thing, 
as  a  wave  of  the  sea,  of  itself  unstable  as  the 
waters,  anil  then  driven  with  the  wind  and 
tossed  loand  fro  with  every  teniplation.  See 
and  feel  thine  own  unworihiness  as  much  as 
thou  canst  for  thou  art  never  bidden  to  believe 
in  thvself ;  no,  but  that  is  countermanded  as 
faith's  ereat  enemy.  But  what  hath  ihy 
unworthiness  to  say  asainst  free  promises  of 
grace,  which  are  the  basis  of  thy  faith  ?  So 
tl»en  believe,  that  you  may  pray :  this  is 


Ver.  12.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


233 


David's  advice,  Psalm  Ixii.  8,  Trust  in  hfm  at 
all  tunes,  ye  people,  and  then,  pour  out  your 
hearts  before  him.  Confide  in  him  as  a  most 
aithful  and  powerful  friend,  and  then  you 
vill  open  vour  liearts  to  him. 

2.  For  the  way  of  offering  up  prayer.    It  is 
c  great  art,  a  main  point  of  the  secret  of  re- 
L  jion,  to  he  skilled  in  it,  and  of  great  concern 
for  the  comfort  and  success  of  it.    Much  is 
here  to  be  conjidersd,  but  for  the  present  take 
these  advices  hriefly.    [1.]  Offer  not  to  speak 
to  him  without  the  heart  in  some  measure 
seasoned  and  prepossessed  with  the  sense  of 
his  greatness  and  holiness.  And  there  is  much 
in  this ;  considering  wisely  to  whom  we  speak, 
the  Kin!>-,  the  Lord  of  glory,  and  setting  the 
soul  before  him,  in  his  presence  ;  and  then 
reflecting  on  ourselves,  and  seeing  what  we 
are,  how  wretched,  and  base,  and  filthy,  and 
unworthy  of  such  access  to  so  great  a  Majesty. 
The  want  of  this  preparini^  of  the  heart  to 
speak  in  the  Lord's  ear,  by  the  consideration 
of  God  and  ourselves,  is  that  which  fills  the 
excuse   of  prayer   with   much  guiltiness; 
makes  the  heart  careless,  and  slight  and 
irreverent,  and  so  displeases  the  Lord,  and 
disappointsourselves  of  that  comfort  in  prayer, 
and  those  answers  of  it,  of  which  otherwise 
we  should  have  more  experience.    We  rush 
m  before  him  with  anything,  provided  we 
can  tumble  out  a  few  words;  and  do  not  wei^h 
these  things,  and  compose  our  hearts  with 
serious  thoughts  and  conceptions  of  God. 
The  soul  that  studies  and  endeavors  this  most, 
hath  much  to  do  to  attain  to  any  right  ap- 
prehensions of  him  (for  how  Utile  knoiv  we  of 
htm  .')  yet  should  we,  at  least,  set  ourselves 
before  him  as  i.he  purest  and  greatest  Spirit  ; 
a  being  infinitely  more  excellent  than  our 
minds  or  any  creature  can  conceive.  This 
would  fill  the  soul  with  awe  and  reverence, 
and  ballast  it,  so  as  to  make  it  go  more  even 
through  the  exercise  ;  to  consider  the  Lord, 
as  tiiat  propiiet  saw  \\\m,  sillins  on  his  thone, 
and  all  the  host  of  heaven  standing  hi/  him,  on 
his  right  hand  and  on  his        1  Kings  xxii. 
ly,  and  thyself  a  defiii'd  sinner  coming  before 
him,  velul  i:  palude  sua  vilis  ranuncula,  as  a 
vile  frog  creeping  out  of  *ome  pool,  as  St. 
Bernard  expresses  it :  how  w  .>uld  this  fill  thee 
with  holy  fear !    Oh  !  his  greatness  and  our 
baseness,  and  Oh!  the  distance!     This  is  i 
Solomon's  advice  :  Be  not  rash  with  thy  mouth,  ' 
and.  let  not  thy  heart  he  hasty  to  utter  any- 
thing before  God,  for  God  is  in  heaven  and 
thou  upon  earth,  I  hen  fore  lei  ihy  words  be 
few.  Eccl.  v.  2.    This  W(juld  keep  us  from 
our  ordinary  babblings,  thai  heart-nonsense,  I 
which,  thor.gh  the  wort's  be  sense,  yet  through 
the  inaitent  m  of  the  h  art,  are  but  as  imper-  { 
linent  confi.scd  dreams  n  the  Lord's  ear  ;  as 
there  it  follows,  ver.  ;i.  I 

\  Wbeiith  )  I  a('<lre>, est  thyself  to  prayer, 
desire  and  depend  uicjn  the  assistance  and  in- 
spiraiioii  ni  tl  e  lloiy  Spirit  of  (Jod  witlujut 
which  thou  ai-  not  able  truly  lo  pray.  It  is 
a  superaaiur>i.    jrk,  »nd  ihentfore  ine  princi- 


ple of  it  must  be  supernatural.    He  that  hath 
nothing  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  can  not  pray  at 
all :  he  may  howl  as  a  beast  in  his  necessity 
or  distress,  or  may  speak  words  of  prayer,  as 
some  birds  learn  the  language  of  men  ;  but 
pray  he  can  not.    And  they  that  have  that 
Spirit,  ought  to  seek  the  movings  and  aciual 
I  workings  of  it  in  them  in  prayer,  as  the  par- 
j  ticular  help  of  their  infirmities,  teaching  both 
1  what  to  ask  (a  thing  which  of  ourselves  we 
know  not),  and  then  enabling  them  to  ask, 
j  breathing  forth  their  desires  in  such  sighs  and 
groans,  as  are  the  breath  not  simply  of  their 
j  own,  but  of  God's  Spirit. 

[3.]  As  these  two  precautions  are  to  be 
taken  before  prayer,  so,  in  the  exercise  of  it, 
1  you  should  learn  to  keep  a  watchful  eye  over 
your  own  hearts  throughout,  for  every  step  of 
the  way,  that  they  start  not  out.  And  in  order 
to  this,  strive  to  keep  up  a  continual  rcmenj- 
brance  of  that  presence  of  God,  which  in  the 
entry  of  the  work,  is  to  be  set  before  the  eye 
of  the  soul.  And  our  endeavor  ought  to  be  lo 
fix  it  upon  that  view,  that  it  turn  not  aside 
nor  downward,  but  from  beginning  to  end 
keep  sight  of  him,  who  sees  and  marks  whe- 
ther we  do  so  or  no.  They  that  art  most  in- 
spective  and  watchful  in  this,  will  still  be 
faulty  in  it ;  but  certainly  ihe  less  watchful 
the  more  faulty.  And  this  we  ought  to  do, 
to  be  aspiring  daily  to  more  stability  of  mind 
in  prayer,  and  to  be  driving  out  somewhat 
of  that  roving  and  wandering,  which  is  sc 
universal  an  evil,  and  certainly  so  grievous, 
not  to  those  who  have  it  most,  but  who 
obs(!rve  and  discover  it  most  and  endeavor 
most  against  it.  A  strange  thing  !  that  the 
mind,  even  the  renewed  mind  should  be  so 
ready,  not  only  at  other  times,  but  in  the 
exercise  of  prayer,  wherein  we  i)eculiarly 
come  so  near  to  God,  yet  even  then  to  slip 
out  and  leave  him,  and  follow  some  poor 
vanity  or  other  instead  of  him  !  Surely  the 
godly  man,  when  he  thinks  on  this,  is  exceed- 
ingly ashamed  of  himself,  can  not  tell  whaf 
to  think  of  it.  God  is  exceeding  joy,  whom, 
in  his  right  thoughts,  he  seems  so  much  above 
the  world  and  all  things  in  it,  yet  to  use  him 
thus  ! — when  he  is  s|)(  aking  to  him,  to  break 
off  from  that,  and  hold  discourse,  or  change 
a  word  with  some  base  thought  that  steps  in, 
and  whispers  to  him  :  or,  at  the  best,  not  to 
be  steadfastly  minding  the  Lord  to  whom  he 
S[)eaks,  and  possessed  with  the  regard  of  his 
presence,  and  of  his  business  and  errand  with 
him. 

This  is  no  small  piece  of  our  misery  here  : 
these  wanderings  are  evidence  to  us,  that  we 
are  not  at  home.  But  though  we  should  be 
humbled  for  this,  and  still  be  laboring  asjainst 
it,  yet  should  we  not  be  so  disc(mrag('d,  as  to 
be  driven  from  ihe  work.  Satan  would  desire 
BO  better  than  that  ;  it  were  to  help  him  to 
his  wish.  And  sotnciiines  a  Christian  may 
be  driven  to  think,  "  What  shall  1  still  do  thus, 
abusing  my  Lord's  name,  and  the  jirivilege 
he  hath  given  me  ?    I  had  better  leave  ofT." 


284 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap  III. 


No,  ne  t  so  by  any  means.  Strive  against  the 
miserable  evil  that  is  within  thee,  but  cast 
not  away  thy  hapj)iness.  Be  doing  still.  It 
is  a  I'rowariJ  childish  humor,  when  anything 
agrees  not  to  our  mind,  to  throw  all  awaj. 
Thou  Miayest  come  off,  as  Jacob,  with  halt- 
tng  I'roin  thy  trrestliriffs,  and  yet  obtain  the 
b/essitii;;  for  which  thou  wrcstlest. 

[4.]^  Those  graces  which  are  the  due  quali- 
ties oi  the  heart,  disposing  it  lor  prayer  in  the 
exercise  of  it,  should  be  excited  and  acted,  as 
holiness,  the  love  of  it,  the  desire  of  increase 
and  growth  of  it,  so,  the  humbling  and  melt- 
ing of  the  heart,  and  chiefly  faith,  which  is 
mainly  set  on  work  in  prayer,  draw  forth  the 
sweetness  and  virtues  of  the  promises,  teach- 
ing us  to  desire  earnestly  their  performance 
to  the  soul,  and  to  believe  that  they  shall  be 
performed  ;  to  have  before  our  eyes  his  good- 
ness and  faithfulness  who  hath  promised,  and 
to  rest  upon  that.  And  for  success  in  prayer, 
exercising  faith  in  it,  it  is  altogether  necessa- 
ry to  interpose  the  Mediator,  and  to  look 
through  him,  and  to  speak  and  petition  by 
him,  who  warns  us  of  this,  that  there  is  no 
other  way  to  speak  :  No  man  comcth  to  the 
Father  but  by  me.  John  xiv.  6.  As  the  Jews, 
when  they  prayed,  looked  toward  the  temple, 
where  was  the  mercy-seat,  and  the  peculiar 
presence  of  God  [Shechinah^,  thus  ought  we 
in  all  our  praying  to  look  on  Christ,  who  is 
our  jiropitiatory.  and  in  whom  the  fulness  of 
the  Godhead  dwells  bodily.  Col.  ii.  9.  The 
forgetting  of  this,  may  be  the  cause  of  our 
many  disappointments. 

[5.]  Fervency;  not  to  seek  coldly:  that 
presages  refusal.  There  must  be  fire  in  the 
sacrifice,  otherwise  it  ascends  not.  There  is 
iiu  sacrifice  without  incense,  and  no  incense 
without  fire.  Our  remiss,  dead  hearts,  are 
not  likely  to  do  much  for  the  church  of  God, 
nor  f(;r  ourselves.  Where  are  those  strong 
cries  that  should  pierce  the  heavens?  His 
ear  is  open  to  th  ~  •■  cry.  He  hears  the  faint- 
est, coldest  prayer,  but  not  with  that  delight 
and  propenseness  to  grant  it ;  his  ear  is  not 
on  it,  as  the  word  there  is.  Psalm  Iv.  17  ; 
lie  takes  no  pleasure  in  hearing  it ;  but  cries, 
heart-cries.  Oh  !  these  take  his  ear,  and  move 
his  bowels ;  for  these  are  the  voice,  the  cries 
of  his  own  children.  A  strange  word  of  en- 
couragement to  importunity  is  that,  Give  him 
no  rest,  Isa.  Ixii.  7  :  suffer  him  not  to  be  in 
quiet  till  he  make  Jerusalem  a  praise  rn  the 
earth.  A  few  such  suiters,  in  these  times, 
were  worth  thousands  such  a3  we  are.  '^ur 
prayers  stick  in  our  breasts,  scarcely  come 
forih  ;  much  less  do  they  go  up  and  ascend 
with  that  piercing  force  that  would  open  up 
the  way  for  deii\eranccs  to  come  down. 

But  in  this  there  must  be  some  difference 
between  temporal  and  spiritual  things.  That 
prayer  which  is  in  tlie  right  strain,  can  nor 
be  too  fervent  in  anything;  but  the  desire  of 
the  thing  in  temporals  may  he  too  earnest. 
A  feverish  distempered  heat  diseases  the 
•oul ;  therefore,  in  these  things,  a  holy  indif- 


;  ferency  concerning  the  particular  may,  and 
should  be,  joined  with  the  I'ervency  of  prayer. 
But  in  spiritual  things,  there  is  no  danger  m 
vehemency  of  desire.  Covet  these,  hunger 
and  thirst  for  them,  be  incessantly  ardeJit  in 
the  suit  ;  yet  even  in  these,  in  some  particu- 
lars (as  with  respect  to  the  degree  and  meas- 
ure of  grace,  and  some  peculiar  furtherances), 
they  should  be  presented  so  with  earnestness, 
as  that  withal  it  be  with  a  reference  and  res- 
ignation of  it  to  the  wisdom  and  love  of  our 
Father. 

H.  For  the  other  point,  the  answer  of  our 
j  prayers,  which  is  implied  in  this  openness  of 

the  ear,  it  is  a  thing  very  needful  to  be  con- 
sidered and  attended  to.  If  we  think  that 
prayer  is  indeed  a  thing  that  God  takes  no- 

i  tice  of,  and  hath  regard  to  in  his  dealings 
with  his  children,  it  is  certainly  a  point  of 
duty  and  wisdom  in  them,  to  observe  how 

j  he  takes  notice  of  it,  and  bends  his  ear  to  it, 

j  and  puts  his  hand  to  help,  and  so  answers  it. 

I  This  both  furnishes  matter  of  praise,  and  stirs 
up  the  heart  to  render  it.  Therefore,  in  the 
Psalms,  the  hearing  of  prayer  is  so  often  ob- 
served and  recorded,  and  made  a  part  of  the 
song  of  praise.  And  withal  it  endears  both 
God  and  prayer  unto  the  soul,  as  we  have 
both  together.  Psalm  cxvi.  1,  7  love  the  Lord 

j  because  he  hath  heard  my  voice  and  my  sup- 

'  plications.  The  transposition  in  the  original 
is  pathetical,  /  love,  because  the  Lord  hath 
heard  my  voice.  I  am  in  love,  and  particu- 
larly this  causes  it ;  I  have  found  so  much 
kindness  in  the  Lord,  that  I  can  not  but  love. 
He  hath  heard  my  voice.  And  then  it  wins 
his  esteems  and  affection  to  prayer.  Seeing 

'  I  find  this  virtue  in  it,  we  shall  never  ])arl 
again  ;  J  will  call  upon  him  as  long  as  I  lire. 
Seeing  prayer  draweth  help  and  favors  from 
heaven,  I  shall  not  be  to  seek  for  a  way,  in 
any  want  or  straight  that  can  befall  me. 

In  this  there  is  need  of  direction  ;  but  too 
many  rules  may  as  much  confuse  a  matter, 

I  as  too  few,  and  do  many  times  perplex  the 
mind  and  multiply  doubts  ;  as  many  laws  do 
multiply  pleading.    Briefly,  then, 

I.  Slothful  minds  do  often  neglect  the  an- 
swers of  God,  even  when  they  are  nK«i  legi- 
ble in  the  grant  of  the  very  thing  itself  that 
was  desired.  It  may  be  through  a  total  in- 
advertence in  this  kind,  through  never  think- 
ing on  things  as  answers  of  our  requests  :  or 
possibly,  a  continual  eager  pursuit  of  more, 
turns  away  the  mind  from  considering  what 
it  hath  upon  request  obtained  ;  we  are  still  so 
bent  upon  what  further  we  would  have,  that 

j  we  never  think  wnat  is  already  done  for  us, 
which  is  one  of  the  most  ordinary  causes  of 
ingratitude. 

2.  But  though  it  be  not  in  the  same  thing  that 
we  desire  that  our  prayers  are  answered,  yet, 
when  the  Lord  changes  our  petitions  in  his  an- 
swers, It  is  always  for  the  better.  He  regards 
(according  to  that  known  word  of  St.  Augus- 
tine, Si  non  ad  voluntatem  nd  ulilitntrm)  our 

;  well  more  than  our  will.  W e  beg  deliverance 


Vkr.  12.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


235 


we  are  not  unanswered,  if  he  give  patience 
and  support.  Be  it  under  a  spiritual  trial  or 
temptation.  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee. 
And  where  the  Lord  doth  thus,  it  is  certainly 
tietter  for  the  time,  than  the  other  would  be. 
Observe  here,  His  ears  are  open  to  the  righ- 
teous, but  his  eyes  are  on  them  too.  They 
have  not  so  his  ear  as  to  induce  him  blindly 
to  give  them  what  they  ask,  whether  it  be  fit 
Dr  no  :  but  his  eye  is  on  them,  to  see  and  con- 
sider their  estate,  and  to  know  better  than 
themselves  what  is  best,  and  accordingly  to 
answer.  This  is  no  prejudice,  but  a  great 
privilege,  and  the  happiness  of  his  children, 
that  they  have  a  Father  who  knows  what  is 
fit  for  them,  and  withholds  no  good  from 
them.  And  this  commutation  and  exchange 
of  our  requests  a  Christian  observing,  may 
usually  find  out  the  particular  answer  of  his 
prayers;  and  if  sometimes  he  doth  not,  then 
his  best  way  is  not  to  subtilize  and  amuse 
himself  much  in  that,  but  rather  to  keep  on 
in  the  exercise,  knowing  (as  the  apostle 
speaks  in  another  case)  this  for  certain,  that 
their  labor  shall  not  be  in  vain  in  the  Lord, 
]  Cor.  XV.  ult.  ;  and  as  the  prophet  hath  it, 
Isa.  xlv.  19,  He  hath  not  said  unto  the  house 
of  Jacob,  seek  ye  me  in  vain. 

3.  Only  this  we  should  always  remember, 
not  to  set  bounds  and  limits  to  the  Lord  in 
point  of  time,  not  to  set  him  a  day,  that  thou 
wilt  attend  so  long  and  no  longer.  How  pa- 
tiently will  some  men  bestow  long  attend- 
ance on  others,  where  they  expect  some  very 
poor  good  or  courtesy  at  their  hands !  Yet 
we  are  very  brisk  and  hasty  with  him  who 
never  delays  us  but  for  our  good,  to  ripen 
those  mercies  for  us  which  we,  as  foolish 
children,  would  pluck  while  they  are  green, 
and  have  neither  that  sweetness  and  good- 
ness in  them  which  they  shall  have  in  his 
time.  All  his  works  are  done  in  their  sea- 
son. Were  there  nothing  to  check  our  im- 
patiences, but  his  greatness,  and  the  great- 
ness of  those  things  we  ask  for,  and  our 
own  un  worthiness,  these  considerations  might 
curb  them,  and  persuade  us  how  reasonable 
it  is  that  we  should  wait.  He  is  a  king  well 
Worth  waiting  on  :  and  there  is  in  the  very 
waiting  on  him,  an  honor  and  a  happiness  far 
above  us.  And  the  things  we  seek  are  great  ; 
forgiveness  of.  sins,  evidence  of  sonshi()  and 
heirship,  heirship  of  a  kingdom;  anjd  we 
condemned  rebels,  born  heirs  of  the  bottom- 
less pit  I  And  shall  such  as  we  be  in  such 
haste  with  such  a  Lord  in  so  great  requests  ! 
But  further,  the  attendance  which  this  reason 
enforces,  is  sweetened  by  the  consideration 
of  his  wisdom  and  love,  that  he  hath  foreseen 
and  chosen  the  very  hour  for  each  mercy  fit 
for  us,  and  will  not  delay  it  a  nioirient.  Never 
any  yet  repented  their  waitin;;,  but  found  it 
fully  recompensed  with  the  opportune  an- 
swer, in  such  a  lime  as  they  were  then  forced 
to  confess  was  the  only  best.  /  wniled  pa- 
lien'h/,  says  the  Psalmist,  in  waiting  1  waited, 
but  it  WIS  f  11  well  bestowed,  He  inclined  to 


me  and  heard  my  cry,  brought  me  up,  &c., 
Psalm,  xl.  1.  And  then  he  afterward  falls 
j  into  admiration  of  the  Lord's  method,  his 
Wonderful  workings  and  thoughts  to  us-ward 
"  While  I  was  waiting  and  saw  nothing,  thy 
'  thoughts  were  toward  and  i'or  me,  and  thoi 
didst  then  icorA- when  thy  goodness  was  mos» 
remarkable  and  wonderful.^'' 

When  thou  art  in  great  affliction,  outward 
or  inward,  thou  thinkest  (it  may  be)  he  re- 
gards thee  not.  Yea,  but  he  doth.  Thou 
art  his  gold,  he  knows  the  time  of  refining 
thee,  and  of  then  taking  thee  out  of  the  fur- 
nace ;  he  is  versed  and  skilful  in  that  work. 
Thou  sayest,  "  I  have  cried  long  for  power 
'  against  sin,  and  for  some  evidence  of  pardon, 
and  find  no  answer  to  either  ;"  yet  leave  him 
not.  He  never  yet  cast  away  any  that  sought 
him,  and  stayed  by  him,  and  resolved,  what- 
soever came  of  it,  to  lie  at  his  footstool,  and 
to  wait,  were  it  all  their  lifetime,  for  a  good 
word  or  a  good  look  from  him.  And  they 
choose  well  who  make  that  their  great  desire 
and  expectation ;  for  one  of  his  good  words 
or  looks  will  make  tiiem  happy  for  ever  ;  and 
as  he  is  truth  itself,  they  are  sure  not  to  miss 
of  it.  Blessed  are  all  they  that  loait  for  him. 
And  thou  that  sayest,  thou  canst  not  find  par- 
don of  sin,  and  power  against  it  ;  yet  con- 
sider whence  are  those  desires  of  both,  which 
thou  once  didst  not  care  for.  Why  dost  thou 
hate  that  sin  which  thou  didst  love,  and  art 
troubled  and  burdened  with  the  ffuilt  of  it, 
under  which  thou  wentest  so  easily,  and 
which  thou  didst  not  feel  before?  Are  not 
these  something  of  his  own  work  ?  Yes, 
surely.  And  know  he  will  not  leave  it  un- 
finished, nor  forsake  the  work  of  his  hands. 
Psalm  cxxxviii.  8.  His  eye  way  be  on  thee, 
though  thou  seest  him  not,  and  his  ear  open 
to  thy  cry,  though  for  the  present  he  speaks 
not  to  thee  as  thou  desirest.  It  is  not  said, 
that  his  children  always  see  and  hear  him 
sensibly;  but  yet,  when  they  do  not,  he  is 
beholding  them  and  hearing  them  graciously 
and  will  show  himself  to  them,  and  answe 
them  seasonably, 
j  David  says.  Psalm  xxii.  2,  J  cry  in  the  day- 
\  time,  and  thou  hearest  not,  and  m  the  niirfil 
season,  and  am  not  silent  ;  yet  will  he  not 
entertain  liard  thoughts  of  God,  nor  conclude 
against  him  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  acknowl- 
edges. Thou  art  holy,  ver.  3,  where,  by  hoi,- 
ness,  is  meant  his  faithfulness  (I  conceive)  to 
his  own  :  as  it  follows.  Thou  that  mhahitest 
the  praises  of  Israel,  to  wit,  for  the  favors  he 
hath  showed  his  people,  as  ver.  4,  Our  fa- 
thers trusted  in  thee. 

Let  the  Lord's  open  ear  persuade  us  to 
make  much  use  of  it.  Clavi.s  diei  el  sera 
noclis  :  The  key  of  day  and  the  lock  of  night. 
Be  much  in  this  sweet  and  fruitful  exercise 
of  prayer,  together  and  apart,  under  the 
sense  of  these  three  considerations  mentioned 
above  :  the  duly,  the  dignity,  and  the  utility 
of  prayer. 

1.  The  duty:  It  is  due  to  the  Lord  to  be 


236 


A  C0^!?5ENTAR"i"  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  IH. 


worsliippcd  and  acknowledffcd  thus,  as  the 
Ibuiiiaiii  ofsood.  How  will  men  cmuch  and 
bow  one  to  iinothcr  upon  small  requests  ;  and 
shall  lie  only  be  neglected  by  the  most,  from 
til  have  lij'v  nnd  breath  and  all  t/ilngs!  (as 
the  apostle  speaks  in  his  sermon.  Acts  xvii. 
25).    And  then, 

2.  Consider  the  dignity  of  this,  to  be  ad- 
mitted into  so  near  converse  with  the  highest 
majesty.  Were  tliere  nothing  to  follow,  no 
answer  at  all,  prayer  pays  itself  in  the  excel- 
lency of  its  nature,  and  the  sweetness  that 
the  soul  finds  in  it.  Poor  wretched  man,  to 
be  admitted  into  heaven  while  he  is  on  earth, 
and  there  to  come  and  speak  his  mind  freely 
to  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  as  his  friend, 
as  his  Father!  to  empty  all  his  complaints 
into  his  bosom ;  when  wearied  with  the  fol- 
lies and  miseries  of  the  world,  to  refresh  his 
soul  in  his  God.  Where  there  is  anything 
o(  his  love,  this  is  a  privilege  of  the  highest 
sweetness  ;  for  they  who  love,  find  much  de- 
light in  disccursing  together,  and  count  all 
hours  short,  and  think  the  day  runs  too  fast, 
that  is  so  spent ;  and  they  who  are  much  in 
this  exercise,  the  Lord  doth  impart  /lis  secrets 
much  to  them.    See  Psalm  xxv.  14. 

2.  Consider  again,  it  is  the  most  profitable 
exercise  ;  no  lost  time,  as  profiinc  hearts 
judge  it,  but  only  time  gained.  All  blessings 
attend  this  work.  It  is  the  richest  traffic  in 
the  world,  for  it  trades  with  heaven,  and 
brings  home  what  is  most  precious  there. 
And  as  holiness  disposes  to  prayer,  so  prayer 
befriends  holiness,  increases  it  much.  Noth- 
ing so  refines  and  purifies  the  soul  as  frequent 
prayer.  If  the  often  conversing  with  wise 
men  doth  so  teach  and  advance  the  soul  in 
wisdom,  how  much  more  then  will  converse 
with  (iod  !  This  makes  the  soul  despise  the 
thnigs  of  the  world,  and  in  a  manner  makes 
it  divine  ;  winds  up  the  soul  from  the  earih, 
acquainting  it  with  delights  that  are  infinitely 
sweeter. 

The  natural  heart  is  full-stuffed  with  pre- 
judices against  the  way  of  holiness,  which 
dissuade  and  detain  it ;  and  therclore  the  holy 
Scriptures  most  fitly  dwell  much  on  this 
pc^ini,  asserting  the  true  advatitage  of  it  to 
the  soul,  and  removing  those  mistakes  which 
it  has  in  respect  of  that  way. 

Thus  he -3,  and  to  press  it  the  more  home, 
verse  10,  &c.,  the  apostle,  having  used  the 
psalmist's  words,  now  follows  it  forth  in  his 
own,  and  extends  what  was  said  concerning 
the  particular  way  of  meekness  and  love, 
&c.,  in  the  general  doctrine,  to  ail  the  paths 
of  ri i^hteniisness. 

The  main  conclusion  is,  that  happiness  is 
the  certain  consequent  and  fruit  of  holiness  ; 
all  good,  even  outward  good,  so  far  as  it  holds 
good,  and  is  not  inconsistent  with  a  higher 
good.  If  we  did  believe  this  more,  we  should 
feel  it  more,  and  so,  upon  feeling  and  experi- 
oient,  believe  it  more  strongly.   All  the  heavy 

i'udgments  we  feel  or  fear,  are  thev  not  the 
uit  of  our  own  ways,  of  profaneness,  and 


pride,  and  malice,  and  abounding  ungodli- 
ness ?  All  cry  out  of  hard  times,  evil  days ; 
and  yet,  who  is  taking  the  right  way  to  bet- 
ter them  ?  Yea,  who  is  not  still  heljiing  to 
make  them  worse  ?  Are  we  not  ourselves 
the  greatest  enemies  of  our  own  peace? 
Who  looks  either  rightly  backward,  reflect- 
ing on  his  iormer  ways,  or  rightly  forward, 
to  direct  better  his  way  that  is  before  him? 
Who  either  says,  W/iat  have  1  done  ?  (as  Jer. 
viii.  6),  or.  What  shall  1  do  1  (Acts  xvi.  30). 
And  indeed,  the  one  of  these  depends  on  the 
other.  Consilium  futvrum  cx  prtrterilo  ve- 
nit  (Sfneca)  :  "  Future  determination  springs 
from  the  past."  I  considered  my  u-ays,  says 
David,  turned  them  over  and  over,  as  the 
word  is,  and  then  I  tvrned  my  feet  unto  thy 
testitnonics.    Psalm  cxix.  59. 

Are  there  any,  for  all  the  judgments  fallen 
on  us,  or  that  threaten  us,  returning  apace 
with  regret  and  hatred  of  sin,  hastening  unto 
God,  and  movrning  and  weeping  as  they  go, 
bedewing  each  step  with  their  tears  ?  Yea, 
where  is  that  newness  of  life  that  the  word 
has  called  for  so  long,  and  that  now  the 
word  and  the  rod  together  are  so  loudly  cal- 
ling for  ?  Who  is  more  refraining  his  tongue 
from  evil,  and  his  hps  from  guile  ;  changing 
oaths,  and  lies,  and  calumnies,  into  a  new 
language,  into  prayers,  and  reverend  speak- 
ing of  God,  and  joining  a  suitable  consonant 
carriage  ?  Who  is  eschctrin g  evil  and  doing 
good,  laboring  to  be  fertile  in  holiness,  to 
bring  forth  much  fruit  to  God?  This  were 
the  way  to  see  good  days  indeed  ;  this  is  the 
way  to  the  longest  life,  !he  only  long  life  and 
length  of  days,  one  eternal  day  :  as  St  Au- 
gustine comments  on  those  words.  One  day 
in  thy  courts  is  better  than  a  thousand,  Psal. 
Ixxxiv.  10.  Millia  dierum.  desiderant  homi- 
nes, et  mullum  volunt  Mc  vivere  ;  contem- 
nant  millia  dierum,  desidercnt  unum,  qui  nan 
habet  ortum  et  occasum,  cui  non  cedil  hcster- 
nus,  quern  non  urget  crastrnus.  "  Men  de- 
sire thousands  of  days,  and  wish  to  live  long 
here:  rather  let  them  despise  thousands  of 
days,  and  desire  that  one  which  hath  neither 
dawn  nor  darkening,  to  which  no  yesterday 
gives  place,  which  yields  to  no  to-morrow." 

The  reason  added  is  above  all  exception,  it 
is  supreme  ;  the  ei/es  of  the  Jjord,  &c.  If  he 
who  made  times  and  seasons,  and  commands 
and  forms  them  as  he  will,  if  he  can  give 
good  days,  or  make  men  happy,  then  the 
only  sure  way  to  it  must  be  the  wav  of  his 
obedience  ;  to  be  in  the  constant  favor  of  the 
great  King,  and  still  in  his  gracious  thoughts  ; 
to  have  his  eye  and  his  ear.  If  this  will 
serve  the  turn  (and  if  this  do  it  not,  I  pray 
you,  what  will  ?)  then  the  righteous  man  is 
the  only  happy  man, /or  the  eyes  of  ihe  Lord 
nrr  upon  him,  he.  Surer  happy  Jays  may  be 
expected  hem  e,  than  theirs  who  draw  them 
from  the  aspect  of  the  stars  :  the  eyes  of  the 
Father  of  lights  benignly  beholding  them, 
trine  aspect  of  the  blessed  Trinity.  The 
love  he  carries  to  them,  draws  his  eyes  still 


Ver.  13.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


237 


toward  them  ;  there  is  no  forgetting  of  them, 
nor  slipping  of  the  fit  season  to  do  ihem 
good:  his  iniud,  I  may  say,  runs  on  that. 
He  sees  how  it  is  with  them,  and  receives 
their  suits  gladly,  rejoicing  to  put  favors  up- 
on thetn.  He  is  their  assured  friend,  yea,  he 
is  their  Father  ;  what  then  can  they  want  ? 
Surely  they  can  not  miss  of  any  good  that  his 
love  and  power  can  help  them  to. 

But  his  face  is  against  them  that  do  evil.] 
So  our  happiness  and  misery  are  in  his  face, 
his  looks.  Nothing  so  comfortable  as  his  fa- 
vorable face,  nothing  so  terrible  again  as  his 
face— Ais  anger,  as  the  Hebrew  word  is  often 
taken,  that  signifies  his  face.  And  yet,  how 
many  sleep  sound  under  this  misery  !  But 
believe  it,  it  is  a  dead  and  a  deadly  sleep  ; 
the  Lord  standing  on  terms  of  enmity  with 
thee,  and  yet  thy  soul  at  ease  .'  Pitiful,  ac- 
cursed ease  !  I  regard  not  the  differences  of 
your  outward  estate ;  that  is  not  a  thing 
wonh  the  speaking  of  If  thou  be  poor  and 
base,  and  in  the  world's  eye  but  a  wretch,  | 
and  withal  under  the  hatred  of  God,  as  being  , 
an  impeniient,  hardened  sinner,  those  other  j 
things  are  nothing  ;  this  is  the  top,  yea,  the 
toial  sum  of  thy  misery.  Or  be  thou  beauti- 
ful, or  rich,  or  noble,  or  witty,  or  all  these  { 
together,  or  what  thou  wilt,  yet,  is  the  face 
of  the  Lord  against  thee  ?  Think  as  thou  j 
wilt,  thy  estate  (sphndida  miseria)  is  not  to 
be  envied,  but  lamented;  I  can  not  say,  j 
much  good  do  it  thee,  with  all  thy  enjoy-  j 
ments,  for  it  is  certain  they  can  do  thee  no 
good  :  and  if  thou  dost  not  believe  this  now, 
the  day  is  at  hand  wherein  thou  shalt  be 
forced  to  believe  it,  finding  it  then  irrevoca- 
bly true.  If  you  will,  you  may  still  follow 
the  things  of  the  world,  walk  after  the  lusts 
of  your  own  hearts,  neglect  God,  and  please 
j'ourselves,  but,  as  Solomon's  word  is  of 
judgment,  Eccl.  ix.  9,  Remernher'lhat  the  face 
of  the  Lord  is  against  /Aee,  and  in  that  judg- 
ment he  shall  unveil  it,  and  let  thee  see  it 
against  thep  Oh,  the  most  terrible  of  all 
sights  ; 

The  godly  often  Jo  not  see  the  Lord's  fa- 
vorable looks,  while  he  is  eying  them  ;  and 
ihe  wii;ked  usually  do  not  see  nor  perceive, 
neitiier  will  believe  that  his  face  is  against 
them  ;  but,  besides  that  the  day  of  full  dis- 
covery is  coming,  the  Lord  doth  sometimes 
let  both  the  one  and  the  other  know  some- 
what how  lie  stands  affected  toward  them. 
In  peculiar  deliverances  and  mercies  he  tells 
his  own,  that  he  forgets  them  not,  but  both 
sees  and  hears  them  when  they  ihink  he 
does  neither,  after  that  loving  and  gracious 
manner  which  they  desire,  and  wliich  is  here 
meant;  and  sometimes,  he  lets  forth  glances 
of  his  bright  countenance,  darls  in  a  beam 
upon  their  souls  that  is  worth  more  than 
many  worlds.  And  on  the  other  side,  he  is 
pleased  sometimes  to  make  it  known  that  j 
his  face  is  against  the  wicked,  either  by  re-  [ 
marKable  outward  judgments,  which  to  them 
are  the  vent  of  his  just  enmity  against  ihem. 


I  or  to  some  he  speaks  it  more  home  m  hor- 
rors and  afl'righis  of  conscience,  which  to 
them  are  earnests  and  pledges  of  their  full 
misery,  that  inheritance  of  wo  reserved,  as 
the  joys  and  comforts  of  believers  are,  of  their 
'  inheritance  of  glory. 

Therefore,  if  you  have  any  belief  of  these 
things,  be  persuaded,  be  entreated  to  forsake 
j  the  way  of  ungodliness.  Do  not  fiatter  your- 
.  selves  and  dream  of  escaping,  when  you  bear 
j  of  outward  judgments  on  your  neighbors  and 
'  brethren,  but  tremble  and  be  humbled.  Re- 
member our  Savior's  words,  Think  ye  that 
those  on  whom  the  tower  ofSiloam  fell,  were 
greater  sinners  than  others?  I  tell  you,  nay, 
but  except  you  repent,  you  shall  all  likewise 
perish,  Luke  xiii.  4,  5.  This  seeming  harsh 
word,  he  who  was  wisdom  and  sweetness  it- 
self utttered,  and  even  in  it  spoke  like  a  Sa- 
vior: he  speaks  of  perishing,  that  they  might 
not  perish,  and  presses  repentance  by  the 
heavy  doom  of  impenitence. 

When  you  hear  of  this,  there  is  none  of  you 
would  willingly  choose  if,  that  the  Lord's 
face  should  be  against  you,  although  upon 
very  high  offers  made  to  you  of  other  things. 
You  think,  I  know,  that  the  very  sound  of  it  is 
somewhat  fearful,  and  on  the  other  side,  have 
possibly  some  confused  notion  of  his  favor,  as 
a  thing  desirable  :  and  yet  do  not  bestir  your- 
selves, to  avoid  the  one  and  inquire  after  the 
other  ;  which  is  certainly  by  reason  of  your 
unbelief  For  if  you  think  of  the  love  of 
God,  as  his  word  speaks  of  it,  and  as  you 
will  say  you  do,  whence  is  it,  I  pray  you, 
that  there  is  no  trifle  in  this  wnrld  that  will 
not  take  more  deeply  with  you,  and  which 
you  follow  not  with  more  earnestness,  than 
this  great  business  of  reconciliaU  n,  with 
(rod,  in  order  to  your  finding  1h„  ace  not 
against  you,  but  graciously  toward  you.  His 
eyes  upon  you,  and  his  ears  open  to  your 
prayer. 

lour  blessedness  is  not — no,  believe  it,  it 
is  not  where  most  of  you  seek  it,  in  things 
below  you.  How  can  that  be  ?  It  must  be 
a  higher  good  to  make  you  happy.  While 
you  labor  and  sweat  for  it  in  anything  under 
th'j  suii,  y(;ur  pains  run  all  lo  w;;ste  :  you 
seek  a  happy  life  in  the  region  of  death. 
Here,  here  it  is  alone,  in  the  love  and  favor 
of  God,  in  having  his  countenance  and  friend- 
ship, and  free  access  and  converse  ;  and  tliis 
is  nowhere  to  be  found,  but  in  the  ways  of 
holiness. 

Ver.  13.  And  who  is  he  that  will  harm  you,  if  you 
be  followers  of  that  which  is  fiooil. 

This  the  apostle  adds,  as  a  further  reason 
of  the  safety  and  happiness  of  that  way  he 
points  out,  a  reason  drawn  from  its  own  na- 
ture. There  is  something  even  intrinsical  in 
a  meek,  and  upright,  and  holy  carriage,  that 
is  apt,  in  part,  to  free  a  man  from  many  evils 
and  mischiefs  which  the  ungodly  are  exposed 
to,  and  do  readily  draw  upon  themselves. 
Your  spotless  and  harmless  deportment  will 


23S 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  IQ, 


much  bind  up  the  hands  even  of"  your  ene- 
mies, and  siimtiimes,  poj-sibly,  somewliat  al- 
lay and  cool  the  malice  of  their  hearts,  that 
they  can  not  so  rage  against  you  as  otherwise 
they  miffht.  It  will  be  somewhat  strann-e 
and  monstrous  to  rage  against  the  innocent. 
117)0  is  he  that  ivil/  harm  you  ?  Here  are  two 
things,  I.  The  carriage.  II.  The  advantage 
of  lU 

I.  Their  carriage  is  expressed  :  followers 
of  that  which  is  a^ood.  The  Greek  word  is, 
t/nilators. 

There  is  an  imitation  of  men  that  is  impi- 
ous and  wicked,  which  consists  in  taking  the 
copy  of  their  snis.  Again,  there  is  an  imita- 
tion which  though  not  so  grossly  evil,  yet  is 
poor  and  servile,  being  in  mean  things,  yea, 
sometimes  descending  to  imitate  the  very  im- 
perfections of  others,  as  fancying  some  come- 
liness in  tlictn  :  as  some  of  Basil's  scholars, 
who  imitated  his  slow  speaking,  which  he 
had  a  little  in  the  extreme,  and  could  not 
hell),  l^ut  this  is  always  laudable,  and  wor- 
thy of  the  best  minds,  to  be  imitators  of  that 
which  IS  good,  wheresoever  they  find  it  ;  for 
that  Slays  not  in  any  man's  person,  as  the  ul- 
tiniaie  jiattern,  but  rises  to  the  highest  grace, 
being  man's  nearest  likeness  to  God,  his  im- 
age and  resemblance  (and  so,  following  the 
example  of  the  saints  in  holiness,  we  look 
hislicr  than  them,  and  consider  them  as  re- 
ceivers, but  God  as  the  first  owner  and  dis- 
penser of  grace),  bearing  his  siamp  and  su- 
perscription, and  belonging  peculiarly  to  him, 
in  what  hand  soever  it  be  found,  as  carrying 
the  mark  of  no  other  owner  than  him. 

The  word  of  God  contains  our  copy  ui  its 
perfection,  and  very  legible  and  clear  :  and 
so,  the  imitation  of  good,  in  the  complete 
rule  of  it,  is  the  regulating  of  our  ways 
by  the  word.  But  even  there  we  find,  be- 
sides general  rules,  the  particular  tracks  of 
life  of  divejs  eminent  holy  persons,  and 
those  on  purpose  set  before  us,  that  we  may 
know  holiness  not  to  be  an  idle,  imaginary 
thing,  hut  that  men  have  really  been  holy, 
though  not  altogether  sinless,  yet,  holy  and 
spiritual  in  some  good  measure  ;  have  shined 
as  liirlit^  amid  a  perverse  generation,  as 
greater  stars  in  a  dark  night,  and  were  yet 
rii':ri,  as  St.  James  says  of  Elias,  like  us  in 
nature  (  i,.)!  ,T,i)fi« i  and  in  the  frailty  of  it:  suh- 
ji'c.l  to  like  passions  as  we  are.  James  v.  17. 
Why  may  we  not  then  aspire  to  be  holy  as 
they  were,  and  attain  to  it  ? — although  we 
should  fall  short  of  the  degree,  yet  not  stop- 
ping at  a  small  measure,  but  running  further, 
pressing  still  forward  toward  the  mark  ;  fol- 
lowing them  in  the  way  they  went,  though 
at  a  distance  ;  not  reaching  them,  and  yet 
walking,  yea,  running  afier  them  as  fast  as 
we  can  ;  not  judging  of  holiness  by  our  own 
sloth  and  natural  averseness,  taking  it  for  a 
singularity  fit  only  for  rare  extraordinary  per- 
sons, such  as  prophets  and  apostles  were,  or 
as  the  church  of  Rome  fancies  those  to  be,,  to 
whom  it  vouchsafes  a  room  in  the  roll  of 


saints.  Do  you  not  know  that  holiness  is  the 
only  via  rcota,  this  filluinng  of  i^ood  the 
path  wherein  all  the  children  of  God  must 
walk,  one  following  after  another,  each  stri- 
ving to  equal,  and,  if  they  could,  to  out- 
strip even  those  they  look  on  as  most  ad- 
vanced in  it?  This  is,  among  many  others, 
a  misconceit  in  the  Romish  church,  that  they 
seem  to  make  holiness  a  kind  of  impropriate 
good,  which  the  common  sort  can  have  lit- 
tle share  in,  almost  all  piety  being  shut  up 
within  cloister-walls,  as  its  only  fit  dwelling, 
but  it  hath  not  liked  their  lodging,  it  seems  ; 
it  has  flown  over  the  walls  away  from  them, 
for  there  is  little  of  it  even  there  to  be  found. 
Their  opinion,  however,  places  it  there,  as 
having  little  to  do  abroad  in  the  world  ; 
whereas,  the  truth  is,  that  all  Christians  have 
this  for  their  common  task,  though  some  are 
under  more  peculiar  obligations  to  study  this 
one  copy.  Look  on  the  rule  of  holiness,  and 
be  followers  of  it,  and  followers  or  imitators 
one  of  another,  so  far  as  their  carriage  agrees 
with  that  primitive  copy,  as  written  after  it. 
Be  ye  followers  of  me,  jn^r/mi,  says  the  apos- 
tle, even  to  the  meanest  Christians  among 
those  he  wrote  to,  but  thus,  as  I  am  of  Christ. 
1  Cor.  xi.  1. 

It  is  thus  with  us?  Are  we  zealous  and 
emulous  followers  of  that  which  is  good,  ex- 
citing each  other  by  our  example  to  a  holy 
and  Christian  conversation,  proroAiVii^  one  an- 
other {so  the  apostle's  word  is)  to  love  and  to 
good  works?  Ileb.  x.  2'1.  Or,  are  not  the 
most  mutual  corrupters  of  each  other,  and  of 
the  places  and  societies  where  they  live  ;  some 
leading,  and  others  following,  in  their  ungodli- 
ness :  not  regarding  the  course  of  those  who 
are  most  desirous  to  walk  holily,  or,  if  at  all, 
doing  it  with  a  corrupt  and  evil  eye,  not  in 
order  to  study  and  follow  what  is  good  in 
them,  their  way  of  holiness,  but  lo  espy  any 
the  least  wrong  step,  to  take  exact  notice  of 
any  imperfection  or  malignant  slander,  and 
by  this  either  to  reproach  religion,  or  to 
hearten  or  harden  themselves  in  their  irreli- 
gion  and  ungodliness,  seeking  warrant  for 
their  own  willing  licentiousness  in  the  un- 
willing failings  of  God's  children  ?  And,  in 
their  converse  with  such  as  themselves,  they 
are  following  their  profane  way,  and  flatter- 
ing and  blessing  one  another  in  it.  "What 
need  we  be  so  precise  ?"  And,  "  If  I  should 
not  do  as  others,  they  would  laugh  at  me  :  I 
should  pass  for  a  fool."  Well,  thou  wilt  be 
a  fool  of  the  most  wretched  kind,  rather  than 
be  accounted  one  by  such  as  are  fools,  and 
know  not  at  all  wherein  true  wisdom  con- 
sists. 

Thus  the  most  are  carried  with  the  stream 
of  this  wicked  world,  their  own  inward  cor- 
ruption easily  agreeing  and  suiting  with  it; 
every  man  as  a  drop,  falling  into  a  torrent, 
and  easily  made  one,  and  running  along  with 
it  into  that  dead  sea  where  it  empties  itself. 

But  those  whom  the  Lord  bath  a  purpose 
to  sever  and  save,  he  carries  in  a  course  coa- 


Ver.  13.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


239 


trary  even  to  that  violei  t  stream.  And  these 
are  ttie  students  of  holi'iess,  the  foUmuers  of 
good,  who  bend  their  endeavors  thus,  and 
look  on  all  sides  diliger.tly,  on  what  may  ani- 
mate and  advance  them  ;  on  the  example  of 
the  saints  in  former  times,  and  on  the  good 
they  espy  in  those  who  live  together  with 
them ;  and  above  all,  studying  that  perfect 
rule  in  the  Scriptures,  and  that  highest  and 
first  pattern  there  so  often  set  before  them, 
even  the  author  of  that  rule,  the  Lord  him- 
self, to  be  holy  as  he  is  holy,  to  be  bountiful 
and  merciful  us  their  heavenly  Father,  and  in 
all  laboring  to  be,  as  the  apostle  exhorts, /o/- 
lowers  of  God  as  dear  children.  Eph.  v.  1,  2. 
[TsXo,-  ai/9(i<i-!Tav  ujioiwatf)  Gem,  savs  Pythagoras.] 
Children  who  are  beloved  of  their  father,  and 
do  love  and  reverence  him,  will  be  ambitious 
to  be  like  him,  and  particularly  aim  at  the 
followinir  of  any  virtues  or  excellency  in  him. 
Now,  thus  it  is  most  reasonable  that  it  should 
be  in  the  children  of  God,  their  Father  being 
the  highest  and  best  of  all  excellency  and 
perfection. 

But  this  excellent  pattern  is  drawn  down 
nearer  their  view,  in  the  Son  Jesus  Christ ; 
where  we  have  that  highest  example  made 
low.  and  yet  losing  notliine  of  its  perfection, 
so  that  we  may  study  God  in  man,  an^  read 
all  our  lesson,  without  any  blot,  even  in  our 
own  nature.  And  this  is  truly  the  onlv  way 
to  be  the  best  proficients  in  this  following  and 
imitating  of  all  good.  In  him  we  may  learn 
all,  even  those  lessons  which  men  most  de- 
spise, God  leaching  them  by  acting  them,  and 
calling  us  to  follow  :  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am 
meek  and  loirly  in  heart.  Matt.  xi.  29.  But 
this  is  too  large  a  subject.  Would  you  ad- 
vance in  all  grace?  Study  Christ  much,  and 
you  shall  find  not  only  the  pattern  in  him,  but 
strength  and  skill  I'rom  liim  tn  follow  it. 

II.  The  advantage  ;  Who  is  he  that  will 
harm  you  ? 

The  very  name  of  it  says  so  much  :  it  is  « 
good.  Worthy  the  following  for  itself  But 
there  is  tills  further  to  enforce  it,  that,  be- 
sides higher  benefit,  it  oftentimes  cuts  otf  the 
occasions  of  present  evils  and  disturbances, 
which  otherwise  are  incident  to  men.  Who 
IS  he  that  will  harm  you?  Men,  evil  men, 
will  often  be  overcome  by  our  blameless  and 
harmless  behavi;  )r. 

1.  In  the  life  of  a  godly  man,  taken  to- 
gether in  the  whole  body  and  frame  of  'i, 
there  is  a  grave  beauty  or  comeliness,  whicn 
oftentimes  forces  some  kind  of  reverence  and 
respect  to  it,  even  in  ungodly  minds. 

2.  Though  a  naturiil  mind  can  not  love 
them  spiritually,  as  graces  of  the  spirit  of 
God  (for  so  only  the  partakers  of  them  are 
lovers  of  ihem),  yet  he;  may  have,  and  usu- 
ally hath,  a  natural  liking  and  esteem  of 
some  kind  of  virtues  which  are  in  a  Christian, 
and  are  not,  in  their  right  nature,  to  be  found 
in  any  other,  though  a  moralist  may  have 
somewhat  like  tliern  ;  meiknexs,  and  patience, 
and  charity,  y.\u\  fidelity,  &c. 


3.  These,  and  other  such  Lke  graces,  do 
make  a  Christian  life  so  inoffensive  anc  calm, 
tnat,  except  where  the  matter  of  their  God  or 
religion  is  made  the  crime,  malice  itself  can 
scarcely  tell  where  to  fasten  its  teeth  or  lay 
hold  ;  it  hath  nothing  to  pull  by,  though  it 
would,  yea,  oftentimes,  for  want  of  work  or 
occasions,  it  will  fall  asleep  for  a  while. 
Whereas  ungodliness  and  iniquity,  sometimes 
by  breaking  out  into  notorious  crimes,  draws 
out  the  sword  of  civil  justice,  and  where  it 
rises  not  so  high,  yet  it  involves  men  in  fre- 
quent contentions  and  quarrels.  Prov.  xxiii. 
29.  How  often  are  the  lusts  and  pride,  and 
covetousness  of  men,  paid  with  dangers  and 
troubles,  and  vexation,  which,  besides  what 
is  abiding  them  hereafter,  do  even  in  this 
present  life  spring  out  of  them  !  These,  the 
godly  pass  free  of  by  their  just,  and  mild,  and 
humble  carriage.  Whence  so  many  jars  and 
strifes  among  the  greatest  part,  but  from 
their  unchristian  hearts  and  lives, yVo/n  their 
lusts  that  war  in  their  memhers,  as  St.  James 
says,  their  self-love  and  unmortified  passions  ? 
One  will  abate  nothing  of  his  will,  nor  the 
other  of  his.  Thus,  where  pride  and  passion 
meet  on  both  sides,  it  can  not  be  but  a  fire 
will  be  kindled  ;  when  hard  flints  strike  to- 
gether, the  sparks  will  fly  about:  but  a  soft, 
mild  spirit  is  a  great  preserver  of  its  own 
peace,  kills  the  power  of  contest ;  as  wool- 
packs,  or  such  like  soft  matter,  most  deaden 
the  force  of  bullets.  A  soft  answer  turns 
away  wrath,  says  Solomon,  Prov.  xv.  1,  beats 
it  off,  breaks  the  bone,  as  he  says,  the  very 
strength  of  it,  as  the  bones  are  of  the  body. 

And  thus  we  find  it,  those  who  think 
themselves  lii<jh-si)irited,  and  will  bear  least, 
as  they  speak,  are  often,  even  by  that,  forced 
to  bow  most,  or  to  burst  under  it ;  while  hu- 
mility and  meekness  escape  many  a  burden, 
and  many  a  blow,  always  keeping  peace 
within,  and  often  without  loo. 

Reflection  1.  If  this  were  duly  considered, 
might  it  not  do  somewhat  to  induce  your 
minds  to  love  the  way  of  religion,  for  that  it 
Would  so  much  abate  the  turbulency  and 
unqnietness  that  abound  in  the  lives  of  men, 
a  great  part  whereof  the  most  do  procure  by 
the  earthliness  and  distemper  of  their  own 
carnal  minds,  and  the  disorder  in  their  way 
that  arises  thence  ? 

Rrflfciion  2.  You  whose  hearts  are  se 
toward  God,  and  your  feet  entered  into  bi-s 
ways,  I  hope  will  find  no  reason  for  a  ciiange, 
but  many  reasons  to  commend  and  endear 
those  ways  to  you  every  day  more  than  the 
last,  and,  amonff  the  rest,  even  this,  that  in 
them  you  escape  manv  even  present  mis- 
chiefs which  you  see  the  ways  of  the  world 
are  full  of.  And,  if  you  will  be  careful 
to  ply  your  rule  and  s'udy  your  co[)y  bet- 
ter, you  shall  find  it  more  so.  The  more  you 
follow  that  which  is  good,  the  more  shall  you 
avoid  a  number  of  outward  evils,  which  are 
ordinarily  drawn  u[)on  men  by  their  owr. 
,  enormities  and  passions.    Keep  as  close  as 


240 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Ctjap.  III. 


you  can  to  tlie  genuine,  even  track  of  a 
(Muistiiin  walli,  and  labor  for  a  pruilent  and  i 
meek  behavior,  adornins;  your  holy  jirot'es-  i 
sion,  and  this  siiall  adorn  you,  and  sometimes  i 
gain  l/mse  tlial  arc  xrithout,  yea,  even  your 
enemies  shall  be  constrained  to  approve  il.  < 

II  is  well  known  how  much  the  spotless 
lives  and  patient  sullerings  of  the  primitive 
Christians  did  sometimes  Avork  upon  their 
beholders,  yea,  on  their  persecutors,  and  per- 
suaded some  who  would  not  share  with  them 
in  their  religion,  yet  to  speak  and  write  on 
their  behalf.  Seeing,  then,  that  reason  and 
experience  du  jointly  aver  it,  that  the  lives  of 
men  conversant  together  have  generally  a 
great  influence  one  upon  another  (for  exam- 
ple is  an  animated  or  living  rule,  and  is  both 
the  shortest  and  most  powerful  way  of  teach- 
ing)— 

[1.]  Whosoever  of  you  are  in  an  exem- 
plary or  leading  place  in  relation  to  others, 
be  it  many  or  lew,  be  ye,  first,  foUowers  of 
God.  Set  belbre  you  the  rule  of  holiness, 
and  withal  the  best  and  highest  examples  of 
those  who  have  walked  according  to  it,  and 
then  you  will  be  leading  in  it  those  who  are 
under  you,  and  they  being  bent  to  follow  you, 
in  so  doing  will  follow  that  which  ts  good. 
Lead  and  draw  them  on,  by  admonishing,  and 
counselling,  and  exhorting  ;  but  especially,  by 
walking.  Pastors,  be  [fCir.i]  ejisamp/cs  to 
the  flock,  or  models,  as  our  apostle  hath  it,  1 
Peter  v.  3,  that  they  may  be  stamped  aright, 
taking  the  impression  of  your  lives.  Sound 
doctrine  alone  will  not  serve.  Though  the 
water  you  give  your  flocks  be  pure,  yet,  if 
you  lay  spotted  rods  before  them,  it  wili  bring 
forth  spotted  lives  in  them.  Either  teach  not 
at  all,  or  teach  by  the  rhetoric  of  your  lives.* 
Elders,  be  such  in  grave  and  pious  carriage, 
whatsoever  be  your  years  ;  fur  young  men 
may  be  so,  and ,  iiossibly ,  gray  hairs  may  have 
nothing  under  them  but  gaddishness  and  folly 
many  years  old — habituated  and  inveterate  un- 
godliness. Parents  and  masters,  let  your  chil- 
dren and  servants  read  in  your  lives  the  life 
and  power  of  godliness,  the  practice  of  piety, 
not  lying  in  ytjur  windows  or  corners  of  your 
houses,  and  conlined  within  the  clasp  of  the 
book  bearing  that  or  any  such  like  title,  but 
shining  in  your  lives. 

[2.]  You  that  are  easily  receptive  of  the 
impression  of  example,  beware  of  the  stamp 
of  uuholiness,  and  of  a  carnal,  formal  course 
of  profession,  whereof  the  examples  are  most 
abounding;  but,  though  they  be  fewer  who 
bear  the  lively  image  of  God  impressed  on 
their  hearts  and  expressed  in  their  actions, 
yet  study  these,  and  be  followers  of  them,  as 
they  are  of  Christ.  I  know  you  will  espy 
much  irregular  and  uiisanctified  carriage  in  us 
who  are  set  up  for  the  ministry,  and  if  you 
look  round,  you  will  find  the  world  lying  in 
wickedne^^s  :  yet  if  there  be  any  who  have  any 
Kparks  ol' Divine  light  in  ihem,  converse  with 
tuosc,  and  follow  them. 


1 3.]  And,  generally,  this  I  say  to  all  (fot 
none  are  so  complete  but  they  may  espy  some 
imitable  and  emnlable  good,  even  in  meaner 
Christians),  actpiaint  yourselves  with  the 
word,  the  rule  of  holiness  ;  and  then,  with  an 
eye  to  that,  look  on  one  another,  and  be  zeal- 
ous of  progress  in  the  ways  of  holiness. 
Choose  to  converse  with  such  as  may  excite 
you  and  advance  you,  both  by  their  advice 
and  example.  Let  not  a  corrupt  generation 
in  which  you  live,  be  the  worse  by  you,  nor 
you  the  worse  by  it.  As  far  as  you  necessa- 
rily engage  in  some  conversation  with  those 
who  are  unholy,  let  them  not  pull  you  into 
the  mire,  but,  if  you  can,  help  them  out. 
And  let  not  any  custom  of  sin  prevailing  about 
you,  by  being  familiarly  seen,  gain  upon  you, 
so  as  to  think  it  fashionable  and  comely,  yea, 
or  so  as  not  to  think  it  deformed  and  hateful. 
Know,  that  you  must  row  against  the  stream 
of  wickedness  in  the  world,  unless  you  would 
be  carried  with  il  to  the  dead  sea,  or  lake  of 
perdition.  Take  that  grave  counsel  given, 
Rom.  xii.  2  :  Be  not  conformed  to  this  world, 
but  be  ye  transformed  by  the  rencwing-of  your 
mind  ;  that  is,  the  daily  advancement  in  reno- 
vation, purifying  and  refining  every  day. 

Now,  in  this  way  you  shall  have  sweet  in- 
ward peace  and  joy,  as  well  as  some  outward 
advantage,  in  that  men,  except  they  are  mon- 
strously cruel  and  malicious,  will  not  so  read- 
ily Aarm  you;  it  will  abate  much  of  their 
rage.  But,  however,  if  you  do  not  escape 
suffering  by  your  holy  carriage,  yea,  if  you 
suffer  even  for  it,  yet  in  that  arc  you  happy 
(as  the  apostle  immediately  adds) : — 

Ver.  14.  But  and  if  you  siifTer  for  risjhteousnpss  sal(e, 
hiippy  are  ye  ;  and  be  not  afraid  of  tlicir  terror, 
neitfier  be  troulilcd. 

In  this  verse  are  two  things :  First,  Even 
in  the  most  blameless  way  of  a  Christian,  his 
suffering  is  supposed.  Secondly,  His  happi 
ness,  even  in  suffering,  is  asserted. 

I.  Suffering  is  supposed,  notwithslandir g 
righteousness,  yea,  for  righteousness ;  and 
that,  not  as  a  rare  unusual  accident,  but  as 
the  frequent  lot  of  Christians  :  as  Luther  calls 
Persecution,  malus  genius  Evangelii,  The  cuil 
genius  of  the  gospel.    And  we,  being  foi'e- 
warned  of  this,  as  not  only  the  possible,  but 
the  frequent  lot  of  the  saints,  ought  not  to 
'  hearken  to  the  false  prophecies  of  our  own 
self  love,  which  divines  what  it  would  cladly 
have,  and  easily  persuades  us  to  believe  it. 
'  Think  not  that  any  prudence  will  lead  you  by 
'  all  oppositions  and  malice  of  an  ungodly 
i  world.    Many  winter  blasts  will  meet  you  in 
•  the  most  inoffensive  way  of  religion,  if  you 
■   keep  straight  to  it.    Suffering  and  war  with 
>  the  Avorld,  is  a  part  of  the  godly  man's  portion 
'  here,  which  seems  hard,  but  ial;e  it  altogelh- 
'  er,  it  is  sweet :  none  in  their  wits  will  refuse 
'   that  legacy  entire.  In  the  world  ye  shall  have 
'   trouble,  but  in  me  ye  shall  have  peace.  John 
xvi.  ult. 

Look  about  you,  and  see  if  there  be  any  es- 


Ver.  14.] 


FIP-ST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


24] 


tate  of  man,  or  course  of  life,  exempted  from 
troubles.  The  greatest  are  usually  subject  to 
greatest  vexations  ;  as  the  largest  bodies  have 
the  largest  shadows  attending  them.  We  need 
not  tell  nobles  and  rich  men  that  contentment 
doth  not  dwell  in  great  palaces  and  titles,  nor 
in  full  coffers  ;  ihey  feel  it,  that  they  are  not 
♦ree  of  much  anguish  and  molestation,  and 
that  a  proportionable  train  of  cares,  as  con- 
stantly as  of  servants,  follows  great  place  and 
wealth.  Riches  and  trouble,  or  noise,  are 
signified  by  the  same  Hebrew  word.  Com- 
pare Job  xxxvi.  19,  with  xxx.  24.  And  kings 
find  that  their  crowns,  which  are  set  so  richly 
with  diamonds  without,  are  lined  with  thorns 
within.  And  if  we  speak  of  men  who  are  ser- 
■vants  to  unrighteousness,  beside  what  is  to 
come,  are  they  not  often  forced  to  suffer, 
among  the  service  of  their  lusts,  the  distem- 
pers that  attend  unhealthy  intemperance,  tiie 
poverty  that  dogs  luxury  at  the  heels,  and  the 
fit  punishment  of  voluptuous  persons  in  pain- 
ful diseases,  which  either  quickly  cut  the 
thread  of  life,  or  make  their  aged  bones  full 
of  the  sins  of  their  youth  ?  Job  xx.  11.  Take 
wiiai  way  you  will,  there  is  no  place  or  con- 
dition so  fenced  and  guarded,  but  public  ca- 
lamities, or  personal  griefs,  find  a  way  to 
reach  us. 

Seeing,  then,  we  must  suffer,  whatever 
course  we  take,  this  kind  of  suffering,  to  suf- 
J'lT  for  ri shteousnnss,  is  far  the  best.  What 
Julius  Caesar  said  ill  of  doing  ill,  Siviolandum 
est  JUS,  re<rnandi  causa  vinlandum,  we  may 
well  say  of  suffering  ill  :  "  If  it  must  be,  it  is 
best  to  be  for  a  kingdom."  And  these  are  the 
terms  on  which  Christians  are  called  to  suffer 
for  righteousness:  // we  will  reign  icith  Christ, 
certain  it  is,  we  must  suffer  with  him  ;  and,  if 
we  do  suffer  vJith  him,  it  is  as  certain  ve  shall 
rei'rn  ivith  him.  2  Tim.  ii.  12.  And  therefore 
such  sufferers  are  happy. 

But  I  shall  prosecute  this  suffering  for  righ- 
teousness, only  with  relation  to  the  apostle's 

firesent  reasoning.  His  conclusion  he  estab- 
ishes,  1.  From  the  favor  and  protection  of 
God  :  2.  From  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself. 
Now  we  would  consider  the  consistence  of 
this  supposition  with  those  reasons. 

1st.  From  the  favor  or  protection  of  God. 
The  eyes  of  the  Lord  being  nn  the  righteous 
for  their  good,  and  his  ear  open  to  their  prai/er, 
how  is  it  that,  notwii lisianding  all  this  favor 
and  inspection,  they  are  so  much  exposed  to 
suffering,  and  even  for  the  regard  and  affec- 
tion they  bear  toward  him,  suffering  for 
righteousness  ?  These  seem  not  to  agree 
well ;  yet  they  do. 

It  is  not  said  that  his  eye  is  so  on  them,  as 
that  he  will  never  see  them  afflicted,  nor 
have  them  suffer  anything  ;  no,  hut  this  is 
their  great  privilege  and  comfor.t  in  suffering, 
that  his  gracious  eye  is  then  upon  them,  and 
sees  their  trouble,  and  his  ear  toward  them, 
not  80  as  to  grant  them  an  exemption  (for 
that  ihey  will  not  seek  for),  but  seasonable 
deliverance,  and,  in  ihe  meanwhile,  strong 
3i 


support,  as  is  evident  in  that  xxxivth  Psalm. 
If  his  eye  be  always  on  them,  he  sees  them 
suffer  often,  for  their  afflictions  are  many  (v. 
19),  and  if  his  ear  be  to  them,  he  hears  many 
sighs  and  cries  pressed  out  by  sufferings.  And 
they  are  content ;  this  is  enough,  yea,  better 
than  not  to  sufier  ;  they  suffer,  and  often  di- 
rectly for  him,  but  he  sees  it  all,  takes  perfect 
notice  of  it,  therefore  it  is  not  lost.  And  ihey 
are  forced  to  cry,  but  none  of  their  cries  es- 
cape his  ear.  He  hears,  and  he  manifests 
that  he  sees  and  hears,  for  he  delivers  them  ; 
and,  till  he  does,  he  keeps  them  from  being 
crushed  under  the  weight  of  the  suffering: 
he  keeps  all  his  bones,  not  one  of  them  is 
broken  (ver.  20).  He  sees,  yea,  appoints  and 
provides  these  conflicts  for  his  choicest  ser- 
vants. He  sets  his  champions  to  encounter 
the  malice  of  Satan  and  the  world,  for  his 
sake,  to  give  proof  of  the  truth  and  the 
strength  of  their  love  to  him  for  whom  they 
suffer,  and  to  overcome  even  in  suffering. 

He  is  sure  of  his  designed  advantages  out 
of  the  sufferings  of  his  church  and  of  his  saints 
for  his  name.  He  loses  nothing,  and  they 
lose  nothing  ;  but  their  enemies,  when  they 
rage  most,  and  prevail  most,  are  ever  the 
greatest  losers.  His  own  glory  grows,  the 
graces  of  his  people  grow,  yea,  their  very 
number  grows,  and  that  sometimes  most  by 
their  greatest  sufferings.  This  was  evident 
in  the  first  ages  of  the  Christian  church. 
Where  were  the  glory  of  so  much  invincible 
love  and  patience,  if  they  had  not  been  so  put 
to  it  ? 

2dly.  For  the  other  argument,  that  the  said 

following  of  good  would  preserve  from /larwi. 
It  speaks  truly  the  nature  of  the  thing,  what 
it  is  apt  to  do,  and  what,  in  some  measure,  it 
often  doth  :  but  considering  the  nature  of  the 
world,  its  enmity  against  God  and  religion, 
that  strong  poison  in  the  serpent's  seed,  it  is 
not  strange  that  it  often  proves  otherwise  ; 
that,  notwithstanding  the  righteous  carriage 
of  Christians,  yea,  even  because  of  it,  they 
suffer  much.  It  is  a  resolved  case.  AH  that 
vull  live  i^ndly,  must  suffer  persecution,  2 
Tim.  iii.  12.  It  meets  a  Christian  in  his  en- 
trance to  the  way  of  the  Kingdom,  and  goes 
along  all  the  way.  No  sooner  canst  ihou  be- 
gin to  seek  tbe  way  to  heaven,  but  the  world: 
will  seek  how  to  vex  and  molest  thee,  and 
make  that  way  grievous  ;  if  no  other  way,, 
by  sccjifs  and  taunts,  intended  as  bitter  blasts 
to  destroy  the  tender  blossom  or  bud  of  reli- 
gion, or,  as  Herod,  to  kill  Christ  newly-born. 
You  shall  no  sooner  begin  to  inquire  after- 
God,  l)ut,  twenty  to  one,  ihey  will  begin  to 
inquire  whelher  thou  art  gone  mad.  But  if 
thou  knowes!  ivho  it  is  whom  thou  hast  trusted, 
and  whom  thou  lovest,  this  is  a  small  matter. 
What  tliough  it  were  deeper  and  sharper  suf- 
ferings, yet  still,  if  you  suffer  for  righteous- 
ness, happy  are  you. 

Which  IS  the  Ild  thing  that  was  proposed, 
and  more  jiarticularly  imports,  1.  That  a 
Christian  under  the  heaviest  load  of  sufferings 


242 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LChap  III. 


ibr  risfhteousness,  is  yet  still  knpjiy,  notwith- 
standing those  sutleriiiirs.  2.  Thai  he  is  hap- 
pier even  hy  those  sutlcrings.  And, 

1.  All  the  suBerings  and  disCresses  of  this 
world  are  iiot  able  to  destroy  the  happiness 
of  a  Christian,  nor  to  diminish  it  ;  yea,  ihey 
can  not  at  all  touch  it ;  it  is  out  of  their  reacli. 
If  it  were  built  on  worldly  enjoyments,  then 
worldly  privations  and  sulleriiigs  inigiu  5iiake 
it,  yea,  migiit  undo  it :  when  those  rotten 
props  fail,  that  which  rests  on  them  must  fall. 
He  that  hatii  set  his  heart  on  his  riches,  a  few 
hours  can  make  him  miserable.  He  that 
lives  on  popular  applause,  it  is  almost  in  any- 
body's power  to  rob  him  of  his  happiness  ;  a 
little  slight  or  disgrace  undoes  him.  Or, 
whatsoever  the  soul  fixes  on  of  these  moving 
unfixed  things,  pluck  them  from  it,  and  it 
nmst  cry  after  them.  Ye  have  taken  away  my 
gods.  But  the  believer's  happiness  is  safe, 
out  of  tiie  reach  of  shot.  He  may  be  impov- 
erished, and  imprisoned,  and  tortured,  and 
killed,  but  this  one  thing  is  out  of  hazard  :  he 
can  not  be  miserable  ;  still,  in  the  midst  of  all 
these,  he  subsists  a  happy  man.  If  all  friends 
be  shut  out,  yet  the  visits  of  the  Comforter 
may  he  frequent,  bringing  him  glad  tidings 
from  heaven,  and  communing  with  him  orthe 
love  of  Christ  and  solacing  him  in  that.  It 
was  a  great  word  for  a  heathen  to  say  of  his 
false  accusers.  Kill  me  they  may,  but  they  can 
not  hurl  me.  How  much  more  confidently 
may  the  Christian  say  so !  Banishment  he 
fears  not,  for  his  country  is  above  ;  nor  death, 
for  that  sends  him  home  into  that  country. 

The  believing  soul  having  hold  of  Jesus 
Christ,  can  easily  despise  the  best  and  the 
worst  of  the  world,  and  defy  all  that  is  in  it ; 
can  share  with  ihe  apostle  in  that  defiance 
which  he  gives  :  1  am  persuaded  that  neither 
death  7ior  life  shall  separate  me  from  the  love 
of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord, 
Rom.  viii.  ult.  Yea,  what  though  the  frame 
of  the  world  were  a  dissolving,  and  falling  to 
pieces !  This  happiness  holds,  and  is  not 
stirred  by  it :  for  it  is  built  upon  that  Rock  of 
eternity,  that  stirs  not,  nor  changes  at  all. 

Our  main  work,  truly,  if  you  will  believe 
it,  is  ibis  ;  to  j)rovidc  this  immoveable  happi- 
ness, which  amid  all  changes,  and  losses,  and 
sufferiiigs,  may  hold  firm.  You  may  he  free, 
choose  It  rather — not  to  stand  to  the  courtesy 
of  any  thing  about  you,  nor  of  any  man,  wheth- 
er enemy  or  friend,  for  the  tenure  of  your 
happiness.  Lay  it  higher  and  surer,  and  if 
you  be  wise,  provide  such  a  peace  as  will  re- 
main untouched  in  the  hottest  flame,  such  a 
light  as  will  shine  in  the  deepest  dungeon, 
and  such  a  life  as  is  safe  even  in  death  itself, 
that  life  which  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God. 
Col.  iii.  3. 

But  if  in  other  sufTcrings,  even  the  worst 
and  saddest,  the  believer  is  still  a  ha|)py  man 
then,  more  especially  in  those  that  are  the 
best  kind,  sufferings  for  righteousness.  Not 
only  do  they  not  detract  from  liis  happiness, 
but, 


2.  They  concur  and  give  accession  to  it  :  hf 
is  happy  even  so  hy  suffering.  As  will  api)ea 
from  the  following  considerations. 

[1.]  It  is  the  happiness  of  a  Christian,  untt 
he  attain  perfection,  to  be  advancing  toward 
it  :  to  lie  daily  refining  from  sin,  and  growing 
richer  and  siroiiger  in  the  graces  that  make 
up  a  Christian,  a  new  creature  ;  to  attain  a 
higlier  degree  of  ])atience  and  meekness,  and 
humility  ;  to  have  the  heart  more  weaned 
from  the  earth  and  fixed  on  heaven.  Now, 
as  other  afflictions  of  the  saints  do  help  them 
in  these,  their  sufferings  for  righteousness, 
the  unrighteous  and  injurious  dealings  of  the 
world  with  them  have  a  particular  fitness  for 
this  purpose.  Those  trials  that  come  imme- 
diately from  God's  own  hand,  seem  to  bind 
to  a  patient  and  humble  compliance,  with 
more  auihority,  and  (I  may  say)  necessity  ; 
there  is  no  plea,  no  place  for  so  much  as  a 
word,  unless  it  be  directly  and  expressly 
against  the  Lord's  own  dealing  ;  but  unjust 
suffering  at  the  hands  of  men,  rerjuires  that 
respect  unto  God  (without  whose  hand  they 
can  not  move),  that  for  his  sake,  and  for  rev- 
erence and  love  to  him,  i  Christian  can  go 
through  those  wiih  that  mild  evenness  of  spirit 
which  overcomes  even  in  suffering. 

And  there  is  nothing  outward  more  fit  to 
persuade  a  man  to  give  up  with  the  world 
and  its  friendship,  than  to  feel  much  of  its 
enmity  and  malice,  and  that  directly  venting 
itself  against  religion,  making  that  the  very 
quarrel,  which  is  of  all  things  dearest  to  a 
Christian,  and  iu  the  highest  esteem  with 
him. 

If  the  world  should  caress  them,  and  smile 
on  them,  they  might  be  ready  to  forget  their 
home,  or  at  least  to  abate  in  the  frequent 
thoughts  and  fervent  desires  of  it,  and  to  turn 
into  some  familiarity  with  the  wcjrld,  and  fa- 
vorable thoughts  of  it,  so  as  to  let  out  some- 
what of  their  hearts  after  it ;  and  thus,  grace 
would  grow  faint  by  tlie  diversion  and  calling 
forth  of  the  spirits :  as  in  summer,  in  the 
hottest  and  fairest  weather,  it  is  wiih  the 
body. 

It  is  an  observation  confirmed  by  the  expe- 
rience of  all  ages,  that  when  the  church  flour- 
ished  most  in  outward  peace  and  wealth,  it 
abated  most  of  its  spiritual  lustre,  which  is 
its  genuine  and  true  beauty,  opil/us  major, 
virtutihus  minor  ;  and  when  it  seemed  most 
miserable  by  persecutions  and  sufferings,  it 
was  most  happy  in  sincerity,  and  zeal,  and 
vigor  of  grace.  When  the  moon  shines  bi  isiht- 
est  toward  the  earth,  it  is  dark  heavenward  ; 
and,  on  the  contrary,  when  it  appears  not,  it 
is  nearest  the  sun,  and  clear  toward  heaven. 

[2.]  Persecuted  Christians  are  happy  in 
acting  and  evidencing,  by  those  sufferings  for 
(lod,  iheir  love  to  him.  Love  delights  in  dif- 
ficulties, and  urows  in  them.  The  more  a 
Christian  suffers  for  Christ,  the  more  he  loves 
him,  and  accounts  him  the  dearer  ;  and  the 
more  he  loves  him,  still  ihe  more  can  he  suf- 
fer for  him. 


Vee.  14.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


243 


[3.]  They  are  happy,  as  in  testifying  love 
to  Christ  and  clorifying  him,  so  in  their  con- 
I'ormity  with  him,  which  is  love's  ambition. 
Love  affects  likeness  and  harmony  at  any 
rate.  A  believer  would  readily  take  it  as  an 
affront,  that  the  world  should  be  kind  to  him, 
that  was  so  harsh  and  cruel  to  his  beloved 
Lord  and  master.  Canst  thou  expect,  or 
wouldst  thou  wish,  smooth  language  from  ; 
that  world  which  reviled  thy  Jesus — which 
called  him  Beelzebub  ?  Couldst  thou  own 
and  accept  friendship  at  its  hands,  which 
buffeted  hmi,  and  shed  his  blood  ?  Or, 
art  thou  not,  rather,  most  willing  to  share 
with  him,  and  of  St.  Paul's  mind,  an  ambas- 
sador in  chains?  \Ylpea(ieva  iv  d\i(jci\  God  forhid 
that  I  should  glory  in  anything  save  in  the 
cross  of  Christ,  v:herehy  the  icorld  is  crucified 
unto  me,  and  I  unto  the  world,  Gal.  vi.  14. 

[4.]  Suffering  Christians  are  happy  in  the 
rich  supplies  of  spiritual  comfort  and  jov, 
which  in  those  times  of  suffering  are  usual  ; 
so  that  as  their  sufferings  for  Christ  do 
abound,  their  consolations    in  hiin  abound 
much  more,  as  the  apostle  testifies,  2  Cor.  i.  5. 
God  is  speaking  most  peace  to  the  soul  when 
the  world  speaks  most  war  and  enmity  against 
it ;  and  this  compensates  abundantly.  When 
the  Christian  lays  the  greatest  Sufferings  men  1 
can  inflict  in  the  one  balance,  and  the  least  i 
glances  of  God's  countenance  in  the  other,  he 
says,  it  is  worth  all  the  enduring  of  those  to 
enjoy  this  :  he  says  with  David,  Psalm  cix. 
28,  Lei  them  curse,  but  bless  thou  :  let  them 
frown,  but  smile  thou.    And  thus  God  ui^u- 
ally  doth  ;  he  refreshes  such  as  are  prisoners 
for  him,  with  visits  which  they  would  gladly 
buy  again  with  the  iiardest  restraints  and  de- 
barririg  of  nearest  friends.    The  world  can 
not  but  misjudge  the  state  of  suffering  Chris-  ■ 
tians  ;  it  sees,  as  St.  Bernard  speaks,  their  } 
crosses,  but  not  their  anointings  :  ndent  crures  ! 
nostras,  unctiones  nan  vident.    Was  not  Stc-  ! 
phen,  think  you,  in  a  happy  posture  even  in 
his  enemies' hands  ?    Was  he  afraid  of  the! 
showers  of  stones  coming  about  his  ears,  who  ' 
saw  the  heavens  opened,  and  Jesus  standing  I 
on  the  Father's  right  hand,  so  little  troubled  ' 
with  their  stoning  of  him,  that,  as  the  text  ! 
hath  it,  in  the  midst  of  them  he  fell  asleep  ? 
Acts  vii.  GO. 

[5.]  If  those  sufferings  be  so  small,  that 
they  are  weighed  down  even  by  jjrcsent  com- 
forts, and  so  the  Christian  be  happy  in  them 
in  that  regard,  h(jw  much  more  doth  the 
weight  of  glory  that  foihjws  surpass  these 
sufferings!  They  are  not  worth//  to  come  in 
Comparison,  they  are  as  nothing  to  that  glory 
that  shall  be  revealed,  in  the  apostle's  arith- 
metic ;  Rom.  viii.  18  f>.<yi<9,/«<],  when  I  have 
cast  up  tlie  sum  of  the  sufferings  of  this 
present  time,  this  instant  now  fra  vw],  they 
amount  to  just  nothing  in  respect  of  that  glory. 
Now,  these  sufferings  are  happy,  because  they 
are  the  way  to  this  happiness,  and  pledges  of 
it,  and,  if  anything  can  do,  they  raise  the  verv 
degree  of  it.    However,  i  is  an  exceeding  ex- 


cellent weight  of  glory.  The  Hebrew  word 
which  signifies  glory,  signifies  weight-  Earth- 
ly glories  are  all  too  light,  to  cXwppdv,  except 
in  the  weight  of  the  cares  and  sorrows  that 
attend  them  ;  but  that  hath  the  weight  of 
completje  blessedness.  Speak  not  of  all  the 
sufferings,  nor  of  all  the  prosperities  of  this 
poor  life,  nor  of  anything  in  it,  as  worthy  of 
a  thought,  when  that  glory  is  named  ;  yea, 
let  not  this  life  be  called  life,  when  we  men- 
tion that  other  life,  which  our  Lord,  by  his 
death,  hath  purchased  for  us. 

Be  not  afraid  of  their  terror.]  No  time, 
nor  place  in  the  world,  is  so  favorable  to  re- 
ligion, that  it  is  not  still  needful  to  arm  a 
Christian  mind  against  the  outward  opposi- 
tions and  discouragements  he  shall  meet  with 
in  his  way  to  heaven.  This  is  the  apostle's 
scope  here  ;  and  he  doth  it,  Is/,  by  an  asser- 
tion ;  2dly,hy  an  exhortation  :  The  assertion, 
that,  in  suffering  for  righteousness,  they  are 
happy  ;  the  exhortation,  agreeably  to  the  as- 
sertion, that  thci/  fear  not.  Why  should  they 
fear  anything,  who  are  assured  of  happiness, 
yea,  who  are  the  more  happy  by  reason  of 
those  very  things  that  seem  most  to  be 
feared  ? 

The  words  are  in  part  borrowed  from  the 
Prophet  Isaiah,  who  relates  them  as  the 
Lord's  words  to  him  and  other  godly  persons 
with  him  in  that  time,  countermanding  in 
them  that  carnal  distrustful  fear  which  drove 
a  profane  king  and  people  to  seek  help  ra- 
ther anywhere  than  in  God,  who  was  their 
strength  :  Fear  not  their  fear,  nor  be  afraid  ; 
but  sanctify  the  Lord  of  hosts  himself,  and 
let  him  be  your  fear,  and  let  him  be  your 
dread.  Isa.  viii.  12,  13.  This  the  apostle  ex- 
tends as  a  universal  rule  for  Christians  in  the 
midst  of  their  greatest  troubles  and  dangers. 

The  things  ojiposed  here,  arc,  a  perplexing, 
troubling  fear  of  sufferings,  as  ihe  souVsdis- 
temper,  and  a  sanctifying  of  God  in  the  heart, 
as  the  sovereign  cure  of  it,  and  the  true  prin- 
cijile  of  a  healthful,  sound  constitution  of 
mind. 

Natural  fear,  though  not  evil  in  itself,  yet, 
in  the  natural  man,  is  constantly  irregular  and 
disordered  in  the  actings  of  it,  still  missing 
its  due  object,  or  measure,  or  both  ;  either 
running  in  a  wrong  channel,  or  overruiming 
the  banks.  As  there  are  no  pure  eleriieiits  to 
be  found  here  in  this  lower  [lart  of  the  world, 
but  only  in  the  philosophers'  books  (who  de- 
fine tlictn  as  pure,  but  they  find  them  so  no- 
where), thus  we  may  speak  of  our  natural 
passions,  as  not  sinful  in  their  nature,  yet  in 
us  who  are  naturally  sinful,  yea,  full  of  sin, 
they  can  not  escape  the  mixture  and  alloy 
of  it. 

Sin  hath  put  the  soul  into  universal  disor- 
der, so  that  it  neither  loves  nor  hates  what  it 
ought,  nor  as  it  ought  ;  hath  neittier  right 
joy,  nor  sorrow,  nor  ho[)e,  nor  fear.  A  very 
small  matter  stirs  and  troubles  it ;  and  as  wa- 
ters that  are  stirred  (so  the  word  [ru»./ J 
signifies),  having  dregs  in  the  bottom,  become 


244  A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE  'Chaf.  III. 


imidd/  and  impure,  thus  the  soul,  by  carnal 
IVar,  is  couliisi'd,  and  tliere  is  neither  quiet 
nor  clearness  in  it.  A  Irovblrd  sea,  as  it  can 
not  rest,  so,  in  its  restlessness,  it  ca.its  up  mire, 
as  the  prophet  speaks,  Isa.  Ivii.  20.  Thus  it 
is  with  the  unrenewed  heart  of  man  :  the 
least  blasis  that  arise,  disturb  it  and  make  it 
restless,  and  its  own  impurity  makes  it  cast 
up  mire.  Yea,  it  is  never  right  with  the  nat- 
ural man  :  either  he  is  asleep  in  carnal  confi- 
dence, or,  being  shaken  out  of  that,  he  is  hur- 
ried and  tumbled  to  and  fro  with  carnal  fears : 
he  is  either  in  a  lethargy,  or  in  a  fever,  or  trem- 
bling with  ague.  When  troubles  are  at  a 
distance,  he  is  ready  to  fold  his  hands,  and 
take  his  ease,  as  long  as  it  may  be  ;  and  then, 
being  surprised  when  they  come  rushing  on 
him,  his  sluggish  ease  is  paid  with  a  surcharge 
of  perplexing  and  aff'righting  fears.  And  is 
not  this  the  condition  of  the  most  ? 

Now,  because  these  evils  are  not  fully  cured 
in  the  believer,  but  he  is  subject  to  carnal  se- 
curity (as  David,  /  said  in  mij  prosperity,  I 
shall  never  be  moved),  and  he  is  filled  with 
undue  fears  and  doubts  in  the  apprehensions 
or  feeling  of  trouble  (as  the  psalmist  likewise 
complaining,  confesses  the  dejection  and  dis- 
quietness  of  his  soul,  and  again,  that  he  had 
almost  lost  his  standing, 'Afy /ec/  had  well 
slipped),  therefore  it  is  very  needful  to  cau- 
tion them  often  with  such  words  as  these, 
Fear  not  their  fear,  neither  be  ye  troubled. 
You  may  take  it  objectively,  their  fear:  Be 
not  afraid  of  the  world's  malice,  or  anything  ii 
can  ert"ect.  Or  it  may  be  taken  subjectively,  as 
the  prophet  means  :  Do  not  you  fear  afier  the 
manner  of  the  world  ;  be  not  distrustfully 
troubled  with  any  affliction  that  can  befall  you. 
Surely  it  is  pertinent  in  either  sense,  or  in 
both  together :  Fear  not  what  theij  can  do, 
nor  fear  as  they  do. 

If  we  look  on  the  condition  of  men,  our- 
selves and  others,  are  not  the  minds  of  the 
greatest  part  continually  tossed,  and  their 
lives  worn  out  between  vain  hopes  and  fears,* 
providing  incessantly  new  matter  of  dis(juiet 
to  tiiemselves  ? 

Conteniplritive  men  have  always  taken  no- 
tice of  this  grand  malady  in  our  nature,  and 
have  attemjjted  in  many  ways  the  cure  of  it, 
nave  bestowed  much  pains  in  seeking  out 
prescriptions  and  rules  for  the  attainment  of 
a  settled  tranquillity  of  spirit,  free  from  the 
fears  and  troubles  that  [)erpl<'X  us  ;  but  they 
have  proved  but  mountebanks,  who  give  big 
words  enough,  and  do  little  or  nothing — all 
physicians  of  no  value,  or  of  nothing,  good  for 
nothing,  as  Job  speaks.  Job  xiii.  4.  Some 
things  they  have  said  well  concerning  the 
outward  causes  of  the  inward  evil,  and  of  the 
inefficacy  of  inferior  outward  things  to  help  it ; 
but  they  have  not  descended  to  the  bottom 
iiid  inward  cause  of  this  our  wretched  un- 
quiet condition  ;  rnucli  less  have  they  ascend- 
ed to  the  true  and  only  remedy  of  it.    In  this, 

*  Usee  inter  dubii  vivinius  et  morimur. 


Divine  light  is  needful,  and  here  r'e  have  it 
in  the  following  verse: — 

Veh.  15.  But  sanctify  tlie  Lord  God  in  your  hearts  , 
and  be  ready  always  to  give  an  ansuir  to  ever) 
niiUi  that  askcth  you,  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is 
in  you.  with  nieeiiness  and  fear. 

liMFLYiNG  the  cause  of  all  our  fears  ano 
troubles  to  be  this,  our  ignorance  and  disre- 
gard t)f  God  :  and  the  due  knowledge  and  ac- 
knowledgment of  him,  to  be  the  only  estab- 
lishment and  strength  of  the  mind. 

In  the  words  we  may  consider  these  three 
things:  1.  This  respect  of  God,  as  it  is  here 
expressed.  Sanctify  the  Lord  God.  2.  The 
seat  of  it.  In  your  hearts.  3.  The  fruit  of  it, 
the  power  that  this  sanctifying  of  God  in  the 
heart  hath,  to  rid  that  heart  of  those  fears 
and  troubles  to  which  it  is  here  opposed  as 
their  proper  remedy. 

Sanctify  the  Lord  God.]  He  is  holy,  most 
holy,  the  fountain  of  holiness.  It  is  he,  lie 
alone,  who  powerfully  sanctifies  us,  and  then, 
and  not  till  then,  we  sanctify  him.  When 
he  hath  made  us  holy,  we  know  and  confess 
him  to  be  holy,  we  worship  and  servt  .  ur 
holy  God,  we  glorify  him  with  our  wnole 
souls  and  all  our  aflTections.  We  sanctify 
him  by  acknowledging  his  greatness  and 
power,  and  goodness,  and  (which  is  here 
more  particularly  intended)  we  do  this  by  a 
holy  fear  of  him,  and  faith  in  him.  These 
within  us  confess  his  greatness,  and  power, 
and  goodness :  as  the  ])rophet  is  express.  Sanc- 
tify him,  and  let  him  be  your  fear  and  your 
driad,  Isa.  viii.  13  ;  anil  then  he  adds.  If 
thus  you  sanctify  him,  you  shall  further  sanc- 
tify him.  He  shall  be  your  sanctuary  :  you 
shall  account  him  so,  in  believing  in  him, 
and  shall  find  him  so,  in  his  protecting  you  ; 
you  shall  repose  on  him  for  safety.  And 
these  particularly  cure  the  heart  of  undue 
fears. 

In  your  hearts.]  We  are  to  be  sanctified 
in  our  words  and  actions,  but  primarily  in 
our  hearts,  as  the  root  and  principle  of  the 
rest.  He  sanctifies  his  own  throughout, 
makes  their  language  and  their  lives  holy, 
but  first,  and  mosi  of  all,  tlieir  hearts.  And 
as  he  chiefly  sanctifies  the  heart,  it  chiefly 
sanctifies  him  ;  acknowledges  and  worships 
him  often  when  the  tongue  and  body  do  not, 
and  possibly  can  not  well  join  with  it :  it  fears, 
and  loves,  and  trusts  in  him,  which  properly 
the  outward  man  can  not  do,  though  it  does 
follow  and  is  acted  on  by  these  afl'ections,  and 
so  shares  in  them  according  to  its  capacity. 

Beware  of  an  external,  superficial  sanctify- 
ing of  God,  for  he  accepts  it  not  ;  he  will  in- 
terpret that  a  profaning  of  him  and  his  name. 
Be  not  deceived,  God  is  not  mocked.  Gal.  vi.  7. 
He  looks  through  all  visages  and  appearan- 
ces, in  upon  the  heart;  sees  how  it  entertains 
him,  and  stands  aff"ected  to  him  :  whether  it 
oe  possessed  with  reverence  and  love,  more 
than  either  thy  tongue  or  carriage  can  ex- 
press. And  if  it  be  not  so,  all  thy  seeming 
worship  is  but  injury,  and  thy  speaking  of 


Ver.  15.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


245 


iiim  is  hut  babb  ng',  be  thy  discourse  never 
so  excellent :  yet  the  more  thou  hast  seemed 
to  sanctify  God,  vvhile  thy  heart  hath  not 
been  chief  in  th^-.  business,  (hou  shalt  not,  by 
such  service,  bar  !  the  less,  but  the  more  fear 
and  trouble  in  I  e  day  of  trouble,  when  it 
comes  upon  th  ;<  No  estate  is  so  far  off 
from  true  conso  a  on,  and  so  full  of  horrors, 
as  that  of  the  roi  ;n-hearted  hypocrite  :  his 
rotten  heart  is  so  tier  shaken  to  pieces  than 
any  other.  If  you  .vould  have  heart-peace  in 
God,  you  must  hav  this  heart-sanctifying  of 
him.  It  is  the  he!  ;t  that  is  vexed  and  trou- 
bled with  fears,  th<  disease  is  there  ;  and  if 
the  prescribed  remedy  reach  not  thither,  it 
will  do  no  good.  But  let  your  hearts  sanctify 
him,  and  then  he  shall  fortify  and  establish 
your  hearts. 

This  sanctifying  of  God  in  the  heart,  com- 
poses the  heart,  and  frees  it  from  fears. 

First,  In  general,  the  turning  of  the  heart 
to  consider  and  regard  God,  takes  it  off  from 
those  vain,  empty,  windy  thinss,  that  are  the 
usual  causes  and  matter  of  its  fears.  It  feeds 
on  wind,  and  therefore  the  bowels  are  tor- 
mented within.  The  heart  is  suhject  to  dis- 
turbance, because  it  lets  out  itself  to  such 
things,  and  lets  in  such  thinsrs  into  itself,  as 
are  ever  in  motion,  and  full  of  instability  and 
restlessness:  and  so,  it  can  not  be  at  quiet, 
till  God  come  in  and  cast  out  these,  and  keep 
the  heart  within,  that  it  wander  out  no  more 
to  them. 

Secondly,  Fear  and  faith  in  the  believer, 
more  particularly  in  this. 

1.  That  fear,  as  greatest,  overtops  and  nul- 
lifies all  lesser  fears :  the  heart  possessed 
with  this  fear,  hath  no  room  for  the  other. 
It  r«-!olves  the  heart,  in  point  of  duty,  what 
it  should  and  must  do,  that  it  must  not  offend 
God  by  any  means,  lays  that  down  as  indis- 
putalile,  and  so  eases'it  of  doubtinErs  and  de- 
bates in  that  kind— whether  shall  I  cornpiv 
with  the  world,  and  abate  somewhat  of  the 
sincerity  and  exact  way  of  reli^non  to  please 
men,  or  to  escape  persecution  or  reproaches: 
no,  it  is  unquestionably  best,  and  only  neces- 
sary to  ohi-ij  him  rnthc.r  than  mm,  10  retain 
his  favor,  he  it  with  displeasing  the  most  re- 
spected and  considerable  persons  we  know  ; 
yea,  rather  to  choose  the  universal  atid  high- 
est displeasure  of  all  the  world  for  ever,  than 
his  smallest  discountenance  for  a  momi-nt. 
It  counts  that  the  only  indispensable  neces- 
sity, to  cleave  unto  God,  and  obev  him.  If 
I  pray,  I  shall  be  accused,  niirjht  Daniel 
think,  but  yet,  pray  f  must,  come  on  it  what 
will.  So,  if  I  worship  God  in  my  prayer, 
they  will  mock  me,  I  shall  pass  for  a  fool  ; 
n(,  matter  for  that,  it  mtist  be  done:  I  must 
rail  on  God,  and  strive  to  walk  with  him. 
This  sets  the  mind  at  ease,  not  to  be  haltinsr 
between  two  opinions,  but  resolved  what  to 
do.  We  fiT"  ^nt  careful,  said  thev,  lo  an- 
voer  thee,  O  kin<r — nur  Gnil  can.  (hlivpr  v<, 
but  if  not,  this  we  have  put  out  of  delibera- 
tion, we  will  not  worship  the  i/na<re.  Dan.  iii.  , 


16.  As  one  said,  Non  oportet  vivere,  skd 
oporlet  namgare,  so  we  may  say.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  have  the  favor  of  the  world,  nor 
to  have  riches,  nor  to  live,  but  it  is  necessary 
to  hold  fast  the  truth,  and  to  walk  holily,  to 
sanctify  the  name  of  our  Lord,  and  honor 
him,  whether  in  life  or  death. 

2.  Faith  in  God  clears  the  mmd,  and  dis- 
pels carnal  fears.  It  is  the  most  sure  help  : 
What  time  I  am  afraid,  says  David,  I  will 
trust  in  thee.  Psaim  Ivi.  3.  It  resolves  the 
mind  concerning  the  event,  and  scatters  the 
multitude  of  perplexing-  thoughts  which  arise 
about  that :  What  shall  become  of  this  and 
that  ?  What  if  such  an  enemy  prevail  ? 
What  if  the  place  of  our  abode  grow  danger- 
ous, and  we  be  not  provided,  as  others  are, 
for  a  removal  ?  No  matter,  says  faith,  though 
all  fail,  I  know  of  one  thing  that  will  not ;  I 
have  a  refuge  which  all  the  strength  of  na- 
ture and  art  can  not  break  in  upon  or  demol- 
ish, a  high  defence,  my  rock  in  vhom  I  trust. 
Psalm  Ixii.  5,  6.  The  firm  belief  of,  and  rest- 
ing on  his  power,  and  wisdom,  and  love, 
gives  a  clear  satisfying  answer  to  all  doubts 
and  fears.  It  suffers  us  not  to  stand  to  jangle 
j  with  each  trifling,  grumbling  objection,  but 
I  carries  all  before  it,  makes  day  in  the  soul, 
and  so  chases  away  those  fears  that  vex  us 
I  only  in  the  dark,  as  affrightful  fancies  do. 
'  This  is  indeed  to  sanctify  God,  and  to  give 
him  his  own  eriory,  to  rest  on  him.  And  it  is 
a  fniiiful  homaiic  which  is  thus  done  to  him, 
return  in?  us  so  much  peace  and  victory  over 
fears  and  troubles,  in  the  persuasion  that 
nothing  can  separate  from  his  love;  that 
only  we  feared,  and  so,  the  thing's  that  can 
not  reach  that,  can  be  easily  despised. 

Seek  to  have  the  Lord  in  your  hearts,  and 
sanctify  him  there.  He  shall  make  them 
strong,  and  carry  them  through  all  dangers, 
Thou'jh  I  walk,  says  David,  throu<rh  the  val' 
ley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  ill, 
for  thou  art  with  me.  Ps.  xxiii.  So  xxvii.  1. 
What  is  it  that  makes  the  church  sotirtn  and 
stout:  Thoush  the  sen  roar,  and  the  moun- 
tains he  cast  into  the  midst  of  the  sea,  yet  we 
wi/l  not  fear  ?  It  is  this:  God  is  in  the  midst 
of  her  ;  she  shall  not  he  moved.  Ps.  xlvi.  2,  o. 
No  wonder:  he  i«  immovable,  atid  therefore 
doih  esiablish  all  where  he  resides.  If  the 
world  be  in  the  middle  of  the  heart,  it  will 
be  often  shaken,  for  all  there  is  continual 
motion  and  change  :  but  God  in  it,  keeps  it 
stable.  Labor,  therefore,  to  get  God  into 
your  hearts,  residing  in  the  midst  of  them, 
and  then,  in  the  midst  of  all  conditions,  they 
shall  not  move. 

Our  condition  is  universally  exposed  to 
fears  and  troubles,  and  no  man  is  so  sHipid 
but  he  studies  and  projects  for  some  fence 
against  them,  soirie  bulwark  to  break  the  in- 
cursion of  evils,  and  so  to  oring  his  mind  to 
some  ease,  ridding  it  of  the  fear  of  them. 
Thtis  the  most  vulgar  sj)irits  do  in  their  way  ; 
fur  even  the  brutes,  from  whom  such  do  not 
much  differ  in  their  actings,  and  course  of 


246 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  IR. 


life  too,  are  instructed  by  nature  to  provide 
thenis-i'lves  atui  their  youii<;  ones  with  shel- 
ter, ilie  birds  their  nests,  and  tlie  beasts  their 
holes  and  dens.  Thus,  men  {jape  and  jiaiit 
alter  sjain  with  a  confused  ill-exaiiiiiied  fancy 
of  quiet  and  safely  in  it,  if  once  lliev  miijht 
reach  such  a  day,  as  to  say  with  the  rich  i'ool 
in  the  i;os])el,  Sou/,  tcil;e  tlunc  e/ise,  thou  /last 
much  iroods  latd  up  for  many  years  ;  though 
warned  by  his  short  ease,  and  by  many  watch- 
words, yea,  by  daily  experience,  that  days 
may  come,  yea,  one  day  will,  when  fear  and 
trouble  shall  rush  in,  and  break  over  the 
highest  tower  of  riches  ;  that  there  is  a  day, 
called  the  (/a  1/ 0/  icra/A,  wherein  ihey  profit 
not  at  all.  Prov.  xi.  4.  I'hus,  men  seek 
safety  in  tlie  Efreatness,  or  inultiiude,  or  sup- 
posed faithfulness  of  friends;  they  seek  bv 
any  means  to  be  strongly  underset  this  way, 
to  have  many  and  poweri'ul,  and  trust-worthy 
friends.  But  wiser  men,  perceiving  the  un- 
safely and  vanity  of  these  and  all  external 
things,  have  cast  about  for  some  higher 
course.  They  see  a  necessity  of  withdraw- 
ing a  man  from  externals,  which  do  nothing 
but  mock  and  deceive  those  most  who  trust 
most  to  them  ;  but  they  can  noi  tell  whiiber 
to  direct  him.  The  best  of  them  bring  him 
into  himself,  and  ihink  to  quiet  him  so,  but 
the  truth  is,  he  finds  as  little  to  support  him 
there  ;  there  is  lujthiiig  truly  strong  enough 
within  him,  to  hold  out  against  the  many  sor- 
rows and  fears  which  still  from  without  do 
assault  him.  So  then,  though  it  is  well  done, 
to  call  off  a  man  from  r)utward  things,  as 
moving  sands,  that  he  build  not  on  them,  vet 
this  is  not  enough  :  for  his  own  s]iirit  is  as 
unsettled  a  piece  as  is  in  all  the  world,  and 
must  have  some  higher  strength  than  its 
own,  to  fortify  and  fix  it.  This  is  the  way 
that  is  here  taught.  Fear  not  their  frar,  hut 
sanctfy  the  Lord  your  God  in  your  hearts  ; 
and  if  you  can  attain  this  latter,  the  former 
will  follow  of  itself. 

In  the  general,  then,  God  taking  the  place 
formerly  ])ossessed  by  things  full  of  motion 
and  uiiquietness,  makes  firm  and  establishes 
the  heart.    More  particularly, 

(In  the  one  hand,  the  fear  of  God  turns 
other  fears  out  of  doors  :  there  is  no  room 
for  them  where  this  great  fear  is  ;  and  though 
greater  than  they  all,  yet,  it  disturbs  not  as 
they  do,  yea,  it  brings  as  great  quiet  as  they 
brought  trouble.  Tt  is  an  ease  to  have  but 
one  thing  for  the  heart  to  deal  withal,  for 
many  times  the  multitude  of  carnal  fears  is 
more  troublesome  than  their  weight,  as  flies 
that  vex  most  by  their  number. 

Again,  this  fear  is  not  a  terrible  apjirehen- 
sion  of  God  as  an  enemy,  but  a  sweet  ootn- 
posed  reverence  of  God  as  our  Kinc,  yea,  as 
our  Father  ;  as  very  great,  but  no  less  good 
.hati  areat  :  so  highly  esteeming  bis  favor, 
js  fearing  most  of  all  things  to  offend  bim  in 
any  kind;  especially  if  the  soul  should  eiiher 
have  been  fornicrly,  on  the  one  band,  inider 
the  lash  of  his  apprehended  displeasure,  or,  on 


:  the  other  side,  have  bad  some  sensible  tastes 
of  his  love,  and  have  been  entertained  in  his 
,  ha/K/ueliiig  house,  where  his  banner  over  it 
was  lore.    Cant.  ii.  4. 

His  children  fear  him  lor  his  goodness  :  are 
afraid  to  lose  sight  of  that,  or,  to  deprive 
themselves  of  any  of  its  iiilluences;  desire 
to  live  in  his  favor,  and  iben,  for  other  things 
I  they  are  not  very  thoughtful, 
j     On  the  other  liand,  faith  carries  the  soul 
above  all  doubts,  assures  it  that  il'  sufferings, 
\  or  sickness,  or  death  come,  nothing  can  sep- 
arate il  from  him.    This  suffices  ;  yea,  what 
I  though  he  may  hide  his  face  for  a  time, 
though  that  is  the  hardest  of  all,  yet  there 
is  no  separation.   Faith  sets  the  soul  in  God, 
and  where  is  safety,  if  it  be  not  there?  It 
rests  on  those  persuasions  it  bath  concerning 
him,  and  that  interest  it  hath  in  him:  Faith 
believes  that  he  sits  and  rules  the  affairs  of 
the  world,  with  an  all-seeing  eye  and  an  all- 
moving  hand.  The  greatest  affairs  surcharge 
him  not,  and  the  very  smallest  escape  him 
;  not.    He  orders  the  march  of  all  armies,  and 
the  events  of  battles,  and  yet,  thou  and  thy 
particular  condition  slip  not  out  of  his  view. 
The  very  hairs  of  thy  head  are  numbered  ; 
j  are  not  then  all  thy  steps,  and  the  hazards 
of  them,  known  to  him,  and  all  thy  desires 
before  him?    Doih  he  noi  number  thy  wan- 
I  derings,  every  weary  step  thou  art  driven  to, 
'  and  put  thy  tears  m  his  hollle  ?  Psalm  Ivii.  8. 
Tbou  mayest  assure  thyself,  that  however 
thy  matters  seem  to  go,  all  is  contrived  to 
subserve  thy  good,  especially  thy  chief  and 
highest  good.    There  is  a  regular  motion  in 
them,  thousrh  the  wheels  do  seem  to  run 
cross.    All  these  thini^s  are  agnrnst  me,  said 
old  Jacob,  and  yet,  they  Avere  all  for  him. 
[     In  all  estates,  I  know  of  no  heart's  ease, 
!  but  to  believe ;  to  sanctify  and  honor  thy 
\  God.  in  resting  on  his  word.    If  thou  art  not 
persuaded  of  this  love,  surely  that  will  carry 
thee  above  all  distrustful  fears.    If  thou  art 
not  clear  in  that  point,  yet  depend  and  re- 
solve to  stay  by  him,  yea,  to  slay  on  him,  till 
i  he  show  himself  unto  thee.  Thou  hasi  some 
fear  of  bim  ;  thou  canst  not  deny  it  without 
gross  in.iury  to  him  and  thyself;  thou  wouldst 
willingly  walk  in    all  well-pleasing  unto 
him  :  well  then,  vho  is  among  you  that  fear- 
eth  the  Lord,  though  he  see  no  present  light, 
yet,  let  him  t'^i/st  in  the  name  of  the  Lord, 
and  slay  upon  his  God.  Isa.  I.  10.   Press  this 
upon  thy  soul,  for  there  is  not  such  anolher 
charm  for  all  its  fears  and  disquiet  ;  there- 
!  fore,  repeat  tt  still  with  David,  sinirlbis  still, 
j  till  it  be  stilled,  and  chide  thy  distrustful 
I  heart  into  believing:    Whi/  art  thou  cast 
^  down,  O  my  soul?  trhi/  art  thou  disquieted 
vjithin  met    fjope  in  God,  for  I  shall  yet 
praise  him.    Psalm  xlii.  5.    Though  I  am 
all  out  of  tune  for  the  jiresent,  never  a  righ' 
string  in  my  soul,  yet,  he  will  put  forth  his 
hand  and  redress  all,  and  I  .shall  yet  once 
again  praise,  and  therefore,  even  now,  I  wiU 
hope. 


Veb.  15.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


247 


It  is  true,  some  may  say.  God  is  a  safe 
shelter  and  rel'uge,  but  he  is  holy,  and  holy  • 
men  may  tind  admittance  and  protection,  but  1 
can  so  vile  a  sinner  as  I  look  to  be  protected 
and  taken  in  under  his  safe-s;uard  ?  Go  try. 
Knock  at  his  door,  and  (take  it  not  on  our 
word,  but  on  his  own)  it  shall  be  opened  to 
thee  ;  that  once  done,  thou  shait  have  a  happy 
life  of  it  in  the  worst  times.  Faith  hath  this 
privilege,  never  to  be  ashamed;  it  takes 
sanctuary  in  God,  and  sits  and  sings  under 
the  shadoio  of  his  wings,  as  David  speaks. 
Psalm  Ixiii.  7. 

Whence  the  unsettledness  of  men's  minds 
in  trouble,  or  when  it  is  near,  but  because 
they  are  far  off  from  God  ?  The  heart  is 
shaken  as  the  leaves  of  the  tree  with  the 
wind,  there  is  no  stability  of  spirit ;  God  is 
not  sanctihed  in  it,  and  no  wonder,  for  he  is 
not  known.  Strange  this  ignorance  of  God, 
and  of  the  precious  promises  of  his  word  ! 
The  most,  living  and  dying  strangers  to  him  ! 
When  trouble  comes,  they  have  not  him  as 
a  known  refuge,  but  have  to  begin  to  seek 
after  him,  and  to  inquire  the  way  to  him  ; 
they  can  not  go  to  him  as  acquainted,  and 
engaged  by  his  own  covenant  with  them. 
Others  have  some  empty  knowledge,  and  can 
discourse  ofScripture,  and  sermons,  and  spirit- 
ual comforts,  while  yet  tiiey  have  none  of 
that  fear  and  trust  which  quiet  the  soul :  they 
have  notions  of  God  in  their  heads,  but  God 
is  not  sanctilied  in  their  hearts. 

If  you  will  be  advised,  this  is  the  way  to 
have  a  high  and  strong  spirit  indeed,  and  to 
be  above  tnmliles  and  fears:  seek  for  a  more 
lively  and  divine  knowledge  of  God  than  most 
as  yet  have,  and  rest  not  till  you  bring  him 
into  your  hearts,  and  llien  you  shall  rest  in- 
deed in  him. 

Sanctify  him  by  fearing  him.  Let  him  he 
your  fear  and  your  dread, not  only  as  to  out- 
ward, gross  offences  ;  fear  an  oath,  fear  to 
profane  the  Lord's  holy  day,  but  fear  also  all 
irregular  earthly  desires  ;  fear  the  distemper- 
ed affecting  of  anything,  the  entertaining  of 
anything  in  the  secretofyour  hearts,  that  may 
give  distaste  to  your  beloved.  Take  heed, 
respect  the  great  Person  vou  have  in  your 
company,  wIkj  hjdges  within  vou,  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Gncrr  him  not  ;  it  will  turn  to  your 
own  grief  if  you  do,  for  all  your  comfort  is  in 
his  hand,  and  flows  from  him.  If  you  be  but 
in  heart  dallying  with  sin,  it  will  unfit  you 
for  suffering  outward  troubles,  and  make  your 
sjjirii  low  and  base  in  the  day  of  trial  ;  yea, 
It  will  fill  you  with  inward  trouble,  and  dis- 
turb that  peace  which,  I  arn  sure,  you  who 
know  it  esteem  more  than  all  the  peace  and 
fiourishiiit;  of  this  world.  Outward  troubles 
do  not  molest  or  stir  inward  peace,  hut  an 
unholy,  unsanntified  affection  doth.  All  the 
wiads  without,  cause  not  an  earlh(|uake,  but 
that  wi:liin  its  (jwn  bowels  doth,  (^'hristians 
art!  much  their  own  enemies  in  unwary  walk- 
ing ;  hereby  ihey  deprive  themselves  of  th(jse 
comforts  they  might  have  in  God,  and  so  are 


often  almost  as  perplexed  and  full  of  fears, 
upon  small  occasions,  as  worldlings  are. 

Sanctify  him  by  believing.  Study  the  main 
question,  your  recnnr.ilement  with  him  ;  labor 
to  bring  that  to  some  point,  and  then,  in  all 
other  occurrences.  Faith  will  ujihold  you,  by 
enabling  you  to  rely  on  God  as  now  yours. 
For  these  three  things  make  up  the  soul's 
peace  :  1.?/,  To  have  right  apprehensions  of 
God,  looking  on  him  in  Christ,  and  accordmg 
to  that  covenant  that  holds  in  him.  And, 
2dly,  A  particular  apprehension,  that  is,  lay- 
ing hold  on  him  in  that  covenant  as  gracious 
and  merciful,  as  satisfied  and  appeased  in 
Christ,  smelling  in  his  sacrifice  (which  was 
himself),  a  savor  of  rest,  and  setting  himself 
before  me,  that  I  may  rely  on  him  in  that 
notion.  3dlij,  A  persuasion,  that  by  so  relying 
on  him,  my  soul  is  as  one,  yea,  is  one  with 
him.  Yet,  while  this  is  wanting,  as  to  a 
believer  ij.  may  be,  the  other  is  our  duty,  to 
sanctify  the  Lord  in  believing  the  word  of 
grace,  and  believing  on  him,  reposing  on  his 
word.  And  this,  even  severed  from  the  other, 
doth  deliver,  in  a  good  measure,  from  dis- 
tracting fears  and  troubles,  and  sets  the  soul 
at  safety. 

Whence  is  it,  that  in  times  of  persecution 
or  trouble,  men  are  troubled  within,  and  rack- 
ed with  fears,  but  because,  instead  of  de[)end- 
in?  upon  God,  their  hearts  are  glued  to  such 
things  as  are  in  hazard  by  those  trou!)les 
without,  their  estates,  or  their  ease,  or  their 
lives?  Tlie  soul  destitute  of  (Jod  esteems  so 
highly  these  thinsrs,  that  it  can  not  but  exceed- 
i  iiigly  feel  when  they  are  in  danger,  and  fear 
their  loss  most,  gaping  after  some  imagined 
tfood  :  Oh  !  if  1  had  but  this,  I  were  well : — 
but  then,  such  or  such  a  thing  may  step  in 
and  break  all  my  projects.  And  this  troubles 
the  poor  spirit  of  the  man  who  hath  no  higher 
designs  than  such  as  are  so  easily  blasted,  and 
still,  as  anything  in  man  lifts  up  his  soul  to 
vanity,  it  must  needs  fall  down  again  into 
vexation.  There  is  a  word  or  two  in  the 
Hebrew  for  irfo/i-,  thatsignify  withal  trnvliles,* 
and  terrors.^  And  so  it  is  certainly  :  all  our 
idols  prove  so  to  us  ;  they  fill  us  with  nothing 
but  anguish  and  troubles,  with  unprofitable 
cares  and  fears,  that  are  goud  fur  nothing, 
but  to  be  fit  punisbmenis  of  that  folly  out  of 
which  they  arise.  The  ardent  love  or  self- 
willed  desire  of  prosperity,  or  wealth,  or  credit 
in  the  world,  carries  with  it,  as  inseparably 
tied  to  it,  a  bundle  of  fears  and  inward  trou- 
bles. Thei/  that  will  he  rich,  says  the  apostle, 
fall  into  a  snare,  and  many  noisome  and  hurt- 
ful lusts, -and,  as  he  adds  in  the  next  verse, 
thei/  pierce  themselves  through  with  many  snr- 
rows.  1  Tim.  vi.  9.  He  who  hath  set  his 
heart  upon  an  estate,  or  a  commodious  dwel- 
ling and  lands,  or  upon  a  healthful  and  long 

•  [Tigirim],  Isa.  xJv.  16,  from  [TfZtii],  arctavit, 
i  liostifitff  i<^\l. 

t  [Mi/'hle/zflh],  I  Kings  xv.  13,  from  \I'/i(ilntz], 
(  ontrciiiisiiTf,  ft  [Emim],  Job  XV.  2!},  from  [ylim], 
I  formidaljilis,  Ifrriticus. 


248 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  in 


life,  can  not  but  oe  in  continued  alarms,  re- 
ncwiiiy  his  Icars  concerning  iheiii.  Esiiecially 
in  truublous  times,  the  least  rumor  of  any- 
thing that  ihrealenelh  to  deprive  him  of  those 
advantages,  strikes  him  to  the  hearl,  because 
nis  hean  is  in  ihem.  I  am  well  seated,  thinks 
he,  and  1  am  of  a  sound,  strong  consiiiution, 
and  may  have  many  a  good  day.  Oh  !  but 
besides  the  arrows  of  i)eslilence  that  are  fly- 
ing round  about,  the  sword  ol'  a  cruel  enemy 
is  nol  far  off.  Tiiis  will  afl'riglii  and  trouble 
a  heart  void  of  God.  But  if  thou  wouldst 
readily  answer  and  dispel  all  these,  and 
such  like  fears,  sanctify  the  Lord  God  tn  thy 
hearl.  The  soul  that  eyes  God,  renounces 
these  things,  looks  on  them  at  a  great  dis- 
tance, as  things  far  from  the  heart,  and  which 
therefore  can  not  easily  trouble  it,  but  it  looks 
on  God  as  within  the  heart,  sanctifies  him  in 
and  rests  on  him. 

The  word  of  God  cures  the  many  foolish 
hopes  and  fears  that  we  are  naturally  subject 
t'),  by  representing  to  us  hopes  and  I'ears  of  a 
f'\T  higher  nature,  which  swallow  up  and 
arown  the  other,  as  inundations  and  land- 
floods  do  the  liitle  ditches  in  those  meadows 
-  that  they  overflow.  Fear  not,  says  our  Sa- 
vior, him  (hat  can  kill  the  body — What  then  ? 
Fear  must  have  some  work  :  he  adds,  Bui 
fear  him  who  can  kill  loth  soul  and  body. 
Thus,  in  the  passage  cited  here,  Fear  not 
their  fear,  but  sanctify  the  Lord,  and  lei  htm 
be  your  fear  and  your  dread.  And  so,  as  for 
the  hopes  of  tiie  world,  care  not  though  you 
lose  them  for  God  :  there  is  a  hope  in  you  (as 
it  follows  here)  that  is  far  above  them. 

Be  ready  alicai/s  to  gii>e  an  aiistver.]  The 
real  Clirisiian  is  all  for  Christ,  hatii  given 
up  all  right  of  himself  to  his  Lord  and  Mas- 
ter, to  be  all  his,  to  do  and  suiler  for  him, 
and,  therefore,  lie  surely  will  not  fail  in  this 
which  is  least,  to  speak  for  him  U[)ui\  all  oc- 
casions. If  he  sanctify  him  in  his  heart,  the 
tongue  will  follow,  and  be  ready  ( 
to  give  an  answer,  a  defence  or  apology.  Of 
this,  here  are  four  things  to  be  noted. 

1st.  The  need  of  it.  Men  will  ask  an  ac- 
count. 

2dly.  The  matter  or  subject  of  it,  The  hope 
in  you. 

3dly.  The  manner,  With  meekness  and 
fear. 

ithly.  The  faculty  for  il,  Be  ready. 

1.  The  need  of  a  defence  or  apoKjgy.  Re- 
ligion is  always  the  thing  in  the  world  that 
hath  the  greatest  calunuiies  ai'd  prtjudices 
cast  upon  it:  and  this  engages  tliose  who 
love  it,  to  endeavor  to  clear  and  disburden  it 
of  lliem.  This  they  do  chiefly  by  the  ccjurse 
of  their  lives.  The  saints,  by  their  blameless 
aciions  and  patient  sulTerings,  do  write  most 
real  and  convincing  Apologies  ,  yet  some- 
times i;  is  expedient,  yea,  necessary,  to  add 
verba'  defences,  and  to  vindicate  nol  so  much 
themselves,  as  their  Lord  and  his  truth,  as 
EufTering  in  the  re|)roanhes  cast  upon  them. 
Did  they  rest  in  their  own  persons,  a  regard- 


less contempt  of  them  were  usually  the  fif.est 
answer;  Spreia  v.ilescerrnt.  But  where  th£ 
holy  profession  of  Christians  is  likely  to  re- 
ceive either  the  main  or  tne  indirect  blow, 
and  a  word  of  defence  may  Jo  anything  ic 
ward  il  olT,  there  we  ought  nol  to  spare  to 
do  it. 

Christian  prudence  goes  a  great  way  in 
the  regulating  of  this  ;  for  holy  things  are  not 
to  be  cast  to  dogs.  Some  are  not  ca))able  of 
receiving  rational  answers,  especially  in  di- 
vine things  ;  they  were  not  only  lost  upon 
them,  but  religion  dishonored  by  the  con- 
test. But  we  are  to  answer  every  one  that 
inquires  a  reason,  or  an  account ;  which 
supposes  something  receptive  of  it.  We 
ought  to  judge  ourselves  engaged  to  give  it, 
be  it  an  enemy,  if  he  will  liear ;  if  it  gain 
him  not,  it  may  in  part  convince  and  cool 
him;  much  more,  should  it  be  one  who  in- 
genuously inquires  for  satisfaction,  and  pos- 
sibly inclines  to  receive  the  truth,  but  is  pre- 
judiced against  it  by  false  misrepresentations 
of  it;  for  Satan  and  the  profane  world  are 
very  inventive  of  such  shapes  and  colors  as 
may  make  truth  most  odious,  drawing  mon- 
strous misconsequences  out  of  it,  and  belying 
the  practices  of  Christians,  making  their  as- 
semblies horrible  and  vile  by  false  imputa- 
tions;  and  thus  are  they  often  necessitated 
to  declare  the  true  tenor,  both  of  their  belief 
and  their  lives,  in  confessions  of  faith,  and 
remonstrances  of  their  carriage  and  custom. 

The  very  name  of  Chrisiians,  in  the  prim- 
itive limes,  was  made  hateful  by  the  foulest 
asjiersions  of  strange  wickednesses  commilled 
in  their  meetings  ;  and  these  passed  credibly 
through  with  all  who  were  not  pariicularly 
acquainted  with  them.  Thus  it  also  was 
Avith  the  Waldenses;  and  so,  both  were 
forced  to  publish  Apologies.  And,  as  here 
enjoined,  every  one  is  bound  seasonably  to 
clear  himself,  and  his  brethren,  and  religion  : 
Be  ye  always  ready.  It  is  not  always  to  be 
done  to  every  one,  but  being  ready  to  do  it. 
we  must  consider  when,  and  to  whom,  and 
how  far.  But, 

2.  All  that  they  are  to  give  account  of  is 
comprised  here  under  this,  The  hope  that  is 
in  you.  Faith  is  the  root  of  all  graces,  of  all 
obedience  and  holiness  ;  and  hope  is  so  near 
i  in  nature  lo  it,  that  the  one  is  commonly 
named  for  the  other  ;  for  the  things  thai  fatlh 
api)rehends  and  lays  hold  on  as  present,  in 
the  truth  of  divine  promises,  hope  looks  out 
for  as  10  come,  in  their  certain  performance 
To  believe  a  promise  to  be  true  before  it  be 
performed,  is  no  other  than  to  beliv^ve  that  it 
shall  be  performed  ;  and  hope  expects  that. 

Many  rich  and  excellent  things  do  the 
saints  receive,  even  in  ilieir  mean  dospised 
condition  here;  but  their  hope  is  rathei  men- 
tioned as  the  subject  ihey  may  sjieak  and 
give  account  of  with  most  advantage,  both 
because  all  they  receive,  at  present,  is  but  as 
nothing,  compared  to  what  they  liope  for,  and 
because,  suf'i  as  it  is,  il  can  not  be  made 


Ver.  15.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


249 


known  at  all  fo  a  natural  man,  being  so 
clouded  wiih  their  afflictions  and  sorrows. 
These  he  sees,  but  their  graces  and  comforts 
he  can  not  see ;  and,  therefore,  the  very  ground 
of  higher  hopes,  of  somewhat  to  come,  though 
he  knows  not  what  it  is,  speaks  more  satis- 
laction.  To  hear  of  another  life,  and  a  hap- 
piness hoped  for,  any  man  will  confess  it  says 
something,  and  deserves  to  be  considered. 

So,  then,  the  whole  sum  of  religion  goes 
under  this  word,  the  hope  that  is  in  you,  for 
two  reasons:  first,  for  that  it  doth  indeed  all 
resolve  and  terminate  into  things  to  come, 
and  secondly,  as  it  leads  and  carries  on  the 
soul  toward  them  by  all  the  graces  in  it,  and 
all  the  exercise  of  them,  and  through  all  ser- 
vices and  sufferings;  aiming  at  this,  as  iis 
main  scope,  to  keep  that  life  to  come  in  the 
believer's  eye,  till  he  get  it  in  his  hand  ;  to 
sustain  the  hope  of  it,  and  bring  him  to  pos- 
sess it.  Therefore  the  apostle  calls  faith,  the 
substance  of  thin<!;s  hoped  for,  that  which 
makes  them  be  before  they  be,  gives  a  solid- 
.ity  and  substance  to  them.  The  name  of 
kope,  in  other  things,  scarcely  suits  with  such 
a  meaning,  but  sounds  a  kind  of  uncertainty, 
and  is  somewhat  airy  ;  for,  of  all  other  hopes 
but  this,  it  is  a  very  true  word  of  Seneca's,  ■ 
Spes  est  nomen  boiii  incerli :  Hope  is  the  name 
of  an  uncertain  ffood.  But  the  gospel,  being 
entertained  by  faiih,  furnishes  a  hope  that 
haih  substance  and  reality  in  it;  and  all  its 
truths  do  concentrate  into  this,  to  give  such 
a  hope.  There  was  in  St.  Paul's  word,  be- 
sides the  fitness  for  his  stratagem  at  that 
time,  a  truth  suitable  to  this,  where  he  desig- 
nates his  whole  cause  for  which  he  was  called 
in  question,  by  the  name  of  his  kope  of  the 
resurrection.    Acts  xxiii.  6. 

And,  indeed,  this  hope  carries  its  own 
apology  in  it,  both  for  itself  and  for  religion. 
What  can  more  pertinently  answer  all  excep- 
tions against  the  way  of  godliness  than  this, 
to  represent  what  hopes  the  saints  have  who 
walk  in  that  way?    If  you  ask.  Whither 
tends  all  this  y(jur  preciseness  and  singular- 
ity ?  Why  can  not  you  live  as  your  neighbors  i 
and  the  rest  of  the  world  about  you  ?   Truly,  { 
the  reason  is  this  :  we  have  sotnewat  further  ; 
to  look  to  than  our  present  condition,  and  far 
more  con^^iderable  than  anything  here;  we  i 
have  a  hope  of  blessedness  after  time,  a  hoi)e 
to  dv^ell  in  the  presence  of  God,  where  our 
Lord  Christ  is  gone  before  us ;  and  we  know 
that  as  many  as  hare  this  hope  must  p'lrifi/ 
themselves  even  as  he  is  pure.    1  John  iii.  3. 
The  city  we  tend  to  is  holy,  and  no  unclean 
thing  shall  enter  into  it.  Rev.  xxi.  17.  The 
hopes  we  have  can  not  subsist  in  the  way  of 
the  ungi.dly  world  :  they  can  not  breathe  in 
that  air,  but  are  choked  and  stifled  with  it ; ' 
and  therefore  we  must  take  another  way,  un-  i 
less  we  will  forego  our  hopes,  and  ruin  our- 
selves for  company.    But  all  that  bustle  of 
godliness  you  make,  is  (say  you)  but  ostenta- 
tion and  hypocrisy.    That  may  be  your  judg- 
ment, but,  if  it  were  so,  we  had  but  a  poor 


bargain.  Such  pv.'rsons  have  their  rtimrd, 
that  which  they  desire,  to  be  seen  of  men,  is 
given  them,  and  they  can  look  for  no  more  ; 
but  we  should  be  loath  to  have  it  so  with  us. 
That  which  our  eye  is  upon,  is  to  come  ;  out 
hopes  are  the  thing  which  upholds  us.  We 
know  that  we  shall  appear  before  the  Judge 
of  hearts,  where  shows  and  formalities  will 
not  pass,  and  we  are  persuaded  that  the  hope 
of  the  hypocrite  shall  perish  :  Job  viii.  13  :  no 
man  shall  be  so  much  disappointed  and 
ashamed  as  he.  But  the  hope  that  we  have, 
maketh  not  ashamed.  Rom.  v.  5.  And  while 
we  consider  that,  so  far  are  we  from  the  re- 
garding of  men's  eyes,  that,  were  it  not  we 
are  bound  to  profess  our  hope,  and  avow  re- 
ligion, and  to  walk  conformably  to  it,  even 
before  men,  we  would  be  content  to  pass 
through  altogether  unseen  :  and  we  desire  to 
pass  as  if  it  were  so,  as  regardless  either  of 
the  approbation,  or  of  the  reproaches  and 
mistakes  of  men,  as  if  there  were  no  such 
thing,  for  it  is  indeed  nothing. 

Yea,  the  hopes  we  have  make  all  things 
sweet.  Therefore,  do  we  go  through  disgraces 
and  sufferings  with  patience,  yea,  with  joy, 
because  of  that  hope  of  glory  and'joy  hud  up 
for  us.  A  Christian  can  take  joyfully  the 
spoiling  of  his  goods,  knowing  thai  lif  haih 
in  heaven  a  better  and  an  enduring  substance. 
Heb.  X.  34. 

The  hope.]  All  the  estate  of  a  believer 
lieth  in  hope,  and  it  is  a  royal  estate.  As  for 
outward  tilings,  the  children  of  God  have 
what  he  thinks  fit  to  serve  them,  but  those 
are  not  their  portion,  and  therefore  he  gives 
often  more  of  the  wurld  to  those  wha  shall 
have  no  more  hereafter ;  but  all  their  flourish 
and  lustre  is  but  a  base  advantage,  as  a 
lackey's  gaudy  clothes,  which  usually  make 
more  show  than  his  who  is  heir  of  the  estate. 
How  often,  under  a  mean  outward  condition, 
and  very  despicable  every  way,  goes  an  heir 
of  glory  born  of  God,  and  so  royal  ;  born  to  a 
crown  that  fadeth  not,  an  estate  of  hopes,  but 
so  rich  and  so  certain  hopes,  that  the  least 
thought  of  them  surpasses  all  the  world's 
possessions  !  Men  think  of  siiinewiiat  for  the 
present,  a  bird  in  hand,  as  you  say,  the  best 
of  it:  but  the  odds  is  in  this,  that  when  all 
present  thinss  shall  be  past  and  swept  away, 
as  if  they  had  not  been,  then  shall  these 
liopers  be  in  eternal  possession  ;  thei/  only 
shall  have  all  for  ever,  who  seemed  to  have 
little  or  nothing  here. 

Oh  !  how  much  ha|)pier  to  be  the  meanest 
expectant  of  the  nrlory  to  come,  than  the  sole 
possessor  of  all  this  world.  These  expectants 
are  often  kept  short  in  earthly  things,  and, 
had  they  the  greatest  abundance  of  them,  yet 
they  can  not  rest  in  that.  Even  so,  all  the 
spiritual  blessings  that  they  do  possess  here 
are  nolhinij  to  I'hr  hope  that  is  in  them,  but  as 
an  earnest-penny  to  their  great  iiiheriiance, 
which,  indeed,  coiifirms  their  h(jpe,  and  as- 
sures unto  them  that  full  estate:  and  there- 
fore, be  it  never  so  small,  they  may  look  on 


250 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  III. 


it  with  joy,  not  so  nuch  ri'srardin:?  it  simply 
in  itseil',  as  in  rehnion  to  that  whicii  it  seals 
and  ascertains  the  soul  of.  Be  it  never  so 
small,  yet  it  is  a  pledge  of  the  great  glory 
and  happiness  which  we  desire  to  share  in. 

[t  is  the  grand  comfort  of  a  Christian,  to 
look  often  hcyoud  all  that  he  can  possess  or 
ditain  here:  and  as  to  answer  others,  when 
he  is  put  to  it  concerning  his  hope,  so  to  an- 
sivr  /t/;/i.sf'//' concerning  all  his  present  griefs 
and  wants  :  I  have  a  poor  traveller's  lot  here, 
little  friendshi))  and  many  straits,  but  yet  I 
may  go  cheeri'uUy  homeward,  for  thither  I 
shall  come,  and  there  1  have  riches  and  honor 
enough,  a  palace  and  a  crown  abiding  me. 
Here,  nothing  but  depth  calling  unto  depth, 
one  calamity  and  trouble,  as  waves,  follow- 
ing another:  but  I  have  a  hope  of  that  rest 
that  rcinameth  for  the  people  of  God.  I  feel 
the  infirmities  of  a  mortal  stale,  but  my  hopes 
of  immurtaliiy  content  me  under  them.  I 
find  strong  and  cruel  assaults  of  temptations  [ 
breaking  in  upon  me,  but,  for  all  that,  1  have  \ 
the  assured  hope  of  a  full  victory,  and  then, 
of  everlasting  peace.  /  find  a  law  in  my 
members  rebelling  against  the  law  of  my 
mind,  which  is  the  worst  of  all  evils,  so  much 
strength  of  corruption  within  me;  yet,  there 
is  withal  a  hope  within  me  of  deliverance,  and 
I  look  over  all  to  that :  Ilift  up  myhead,bccnvse 
the  day  of  my  redemption  draws  mgh.  This  I 
dare  avow  and  proclaim  toall,and  am  not  asha- 
med to  answer  concerning  this  blessed  hope. 

3.  But  for  the  manner  of  this,  it  is  to  be 
done  with  meekness  and  fear  ;  meekness  tow- 
ard men,  and  reverential  fear  toward  God. 

M'lth  meekness.]  A  Christian  is  not,  there- 
fore, to  be  blustering  and  flying  out  into  in- 
vectives, because  he  hath  the  better  of  it, 
against  a  man  that  questions  him  touching 
this  hope:  as  some  think  themselves  cer- 
tainly authorized  to  rough  speech,  because 
they  plead  for  truth,  and  are  on  its  side.  On 
the  contrary,  so  much  the  rather  study  meek- 
ness, for  the  glory  and  advanla?e  of  the  truth. 
It  needs  not  the  service  of  passion  ;  yea,  noth- 
ing so  disserves  it,  as  passion  when  set  to 
serve  it.  The  spirit  of  truth  is  withal  the 
spirit  of  meekness.  The  dove  that  rested  on 
that  great  champion  of  truth,  who  is  the  truth 
itself,  is  frcjin  him  derived  to  the  lovers  of 
truth,  and  they  ousht  to  seek  the  participa- 
tion of  it.  Imprudence  makes  some  kind  of 
Christians  lose  much  of  their  labor,  in  speak- 
ing for  religion,  and  drive  those  further  off, 
whom  they  would  draw  into  it. 

And  fear.]  Divine  things  are  never  to  be 
spoken  of  in  a  light,  perfunctory  way,  but 
with  a  reverent,  grave  temper  of  spirit;  and, 
for  this  reason,  some  choice  is  to  be  made 
both  of  time  and  persons.  The  confidence 
that  attends  this  nope,  makes  the  believer 
not  fear  men,  to  whom  he  answers,  but  still 
he  fears  his  (iod,  for  whom  he  answers,  and 
whose  interest  is  chief  in  those  things  he 
jpeaks  of.  The  soul  that  hath  the  deepest 
^ense   of  spiritual   things,  and  the  truest 


knowledge  of  God,  is  most  afraid  to  miscarry 
in  si)eaking  of  him,  most  tender  and  wary 
how  to  acquit  itself  when  engaged  to  speak 
of  and  for  God. 

4.  We  have  the  faculty  for  this  apology, 
he  ready.  In  this  are  itiij)lied  knowledge, 
and  affection,  and  courage.  As  for  knowledge, 
it  is  not  required  of  every  Christian,  to  be 
able  to  prosecute  subtilties,  and  encounter 
the  sophistry  of  adversaries,  (;s]iecially  in 
obscure  points:  but  all  are  bound  to  know 
so  much  as  to  be  able  to  aver  that  hope  that 
is  in  them,  the  main  doctrine  of  grace  and  sal- 
vation, wherein  the  most  of  men  are  lamenta- 
bly ignorant.  AflTection  setsall  on  work  :  what- 
ever faculty  the  mind  hath,  it  will  not  sufler 
it  to  be  useless,  and  it  hardens  it  against  haz- 
ards in  defence  of  the  truth. 

But  the  only  way  so  to  know  and  love  the 
truth,  and  to  have  courage  to  avow  it,  is,  to 
have  the  Lord  sanctified  in  the  heart.  Men 
may  dispute  stoutly  against  Popery  and  er- 
rors, and  yet  be  siransers  to  God  and  this 
ho])e.  But  suicly  it  is  the  liveliest  defencej 
and  that  which  alone  returns  comfort  within, 
when  it  arises  from  the  peculiar  interest  of 
the  soul  in  God,  and  in  those  truths  and  that 
hope  which  are  questioned :  it  is  then  like 
pleading  for  the  nearest  friend,  and  for  a 
man's  own  rights  and  inheritance.  This  will 
animate  and  give  edge  to  it,  when  you  apol- 
ogise, not  for  a  hope  you  have  heard  or  read 
of  barely,  but  for  a  hope  icithin  you  ;  not 
merely  a  hope  in  believers  in  general,  but  in 
yov,  by  a  particular  sense  of  that  hope  within. 

But,  although  you  should  find  it  not  so 
strong  in  you,  as  to  your  particular  interest, 
yet  are  you  seeking  after  il,  and  desiring  it 
mainly?  Is  it  your  chief  design  to  attain 
unto  it  ?  Then  forbear  not,  if  you  have  oc- 
casion, to  speak  for  it,  and  commend  it  to 
others,  and  to  maintain  the  sweetness  and 
certainty  of  it. 

And,  to  the  end  you  may  be  the  more  es- 
tablished in  it,  and  so  the  stronger  to  answer 
for  it,  not  only  against  men,  but  against  that 
great  adversary  who  seeks  so  much  to  in- 
fringe and  overbear  it,  know  the  right  foun- 
dation of  it ;  build  il  never  on  yourselves,  or 
anything  in  yourselves.  The  work  of  grace 
may  evidence  to  you  the  truth  of  your  hoiie, 
but  the  ground  it  fastens  on  is  Jesus  Christ, 
in  whom  all  our  rights  and  evidences  ■^lold 
good  ;  his  death  assuring  us  of  freedom  from 
condemnation,  and  his  life  and  possession  of 
glory  being  the  foundation  of  our  hojje.  Heb. 
vi.  19.  If  you  would  have  it  immovable, 
rest  it  there;  lay  all  this  ho])e  on  him,  and, 
when  assaulted,  fetch  all  your  answers  for  it 
from  him,  for  it  is  Christ  in  you,  that  is  your 
hope  of  glory.    Col.  i.  27. 

Ver.  16.  Having  a  good  conscience,  that  whereas 
they  speal<  evil  of  you,  as  of  evil-doers,  they  may 
be  asliamed  that  falsely  accuse  your  good  conver- 
sation in  Christ. 

The  prosperity  of  fools  is  their  destruc- 
tion, says  Solomon,  Prov.  i.  32.    But  none 


Vek.  16.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


251 


of  God's  ch  idren  die  of  this  disease — of  too 
much  ease.  He  kaows  well  how  lo  breed 
them,  and  lit  them  for  a  kingdom.  He  keeps 
them  in  exercise,  but  yet  so  as  they  are  Dot 
surcharged.  He  not  only  directs  them  how 
to  overcome,  but  enables  and  supports  them 
in  all  their  conflicts,  and  gives  them  victory. 
One  main  thing,  lending  to  their  support  and 
/^ictory,  is  wiial  is  here  required  in  the  saints, 
and  is  withal  wrought  and  maintained  in 
them  by  tlie  Spirit  of  God,  having  a  good 
conscience,  &c. 

I.  We  have  here  two  parties  opposed  in 
contest — the  evil  tongues  of  the  ungodly,  and 
the  good  conscience  and  conversation  of  tiie 
Christian  :  ihey  speak  evil  of  you,  and  false- 
ly accuse  you,  but  do  you  have  a  good  con- 
tcience. 

II.  The  success  of  their  contest:  the  gotd 
conscience  prevails,  and  the  evil-speakers 
are  ashamed. 

I.  The  parties  engaged:  they  speak  evil.] 
This  is  a  general  evil  in  the  corrupt  nature 
of  man,  though  in  some  it  rises  to  a  greater 
height  than  in  others.  Are  not  tables  and 
chambers,  and  almost  all  societies  and  meet- 
ings full  of  it?  And  even  those  who  have 
some  dislikings  of  it,  are  too  easily  carried 
away  with  the  stream,  and,  for  company's 
sake,  take  a  share,  if  not  by  lending  their 
word,  yet  lending  their  ear,  and  willingly 
hearing  the  detractions  of  others  ;  unless  it 
be  of  their  friends,  or  such  as  they  have  in- 
terest in,  rtiey  insensibly  slide  into  some 
forced  complacency,  and  easily  receive  the 
impression  of  calumnies  and  deiamings.  But 
the  most  are  nmre  active  in  this  evil,  can 
cast  in  their  penny  to  make  up  the  shot  ; 
have  their  taunt  or  criticism  upon  somebody 
in  readiness,  to  make  up  the  feast,  such  as 
most  companies  entertain  one  another  withal, 
but  is  a  vile  diet.  Satan's  name,  as  the  Sy- 
riac  calls  him,  is,  an  eater  of  calumnies.  This 
tongue-evil  haih  its  root  in  the  heart,  in  a 
perverse  constitution  there,  in  pride  and  self- 
love.  An  overweening  esteem  that  men  nat- 
urally have  of  themselves,  mounts  them  into 
the  censor's  chair,  gives  them  a  fancied  au- 
thority of  judging  others,  and  self-love,  a  de- 
sire to  be  esteemed  ;  and,  for  that  end,  they 
spare  not  to  depress  others,  and  load  thein 
with  disgraces  and  injurious  censures,  seek- 
ing upon  their  ruins  to  raise  themselves:  as 
Sallust  speaks.  Ex  alteni  normals  jaclura 
grail  am  sihi  faciunl  ad  glortuni. 

But  this  bent  of  the  unrenewed  heart  and 
tongue  to  evil-si)eaking,  works  and  vents  in 
the  world,  most  against  those  who  walk  rncjst 
contrary  to  the  coitrse  of  the  world  ;  against 
such,  this  furnace  of  the  tongue,  kindled 
from  hell,  as  St.  James  tells  us,  is  made  sev- 
en times  hotter  than  ordinary.  As  for  sin- 
cer«?  Christians,  ihey  say,  A  company  of  hyp- 
ocrites, Wh(j  so  godly?  but  yet  they  are 
false,  and  malicious,  and  j)roud,  &c.  No 
kirul  of  carriage  in  them  shall  escape,  but 
Uiere  shall  be  some  device  to  wrest  and  mis- 


name it.  If  they  be  cheerful  in  society,  that 
shall  be  accounted  more  liberty  than  suits 
with  their  profession  :  if  of  a  graver  or  sad 
temper,  that  shall  pass  for  sullen  severity. 
Thus  perversely  were  John  the  Baptist  and 
Christ  censured  by  the  Jews.  Matt.  xi.  18, 
19.  If  they  be  diligent  and  wary  in  their 
affairs,  then,  in  the  world's  constructioa,  they 
are  as  covetous  and  worldly  as  any  ;  if  care- 
less and  remiss  in  them,  then,  silly,  witless 
creatures,  good  for  ^lothing.  Still  something 
stands  cross. 

The  enemies  of  religion  have  not  anywhere 
so  quick  an  eye,  as  in  observing  the  ways  of 
such  as  seek  after  God  :  my  remariers,  David 
calls  them.  Psalm  Ivi.  6 — they  who  scan  my 
ways,  as  the  word  implies  -  will  not  let  the 
least  step  pass  unexamined.  If  nothing  be 
found  faulty,  then  their  invention  works,  ei- 
ther forging  complete  falsehoods,  or  disguis- 
ing something  that  lies  open  to  mistake.  Or, 
if  they  can  catch  hold  on  any  real  lailing, 
there  is  no  end  of  their  triumph  and  insulta- 
tions. 

1.  They  aggravate  and  raise  it  to  llie 
highest.  2.  While  they  will  not  admit  to  be 
themselves  judged  of  by  their  constant  walk, 
they  scruple  not  to  judge  of  the  condition  of 
a  Christian  by  any  one  particular  action 
wherein  he  doth,  or  seems  at  least  to,  mis- 
carry. 3.  They  rest  not  there,  but  make  one 
failihg  of  one  Christian  a  reproach  of  all: 
"  Take  up  your  devotees,  there  is  never  a  one 
of  them  better."  4.  Nor  rest  they  there,  but 
make  the  personal  failings  of  those  who  pro- 
fess it,  the  disgrace  of  religion  itself  Now, 
all  these  are  very  crooked  rules,  and  such 
as  use  them  are  guilty  of  gross  injustice. 
For, 

1.  There  is  a  great  difference  between  a 
thing  taken  favorably,  and  llie  same  action 
misconstrued.  And, 

2.  A  great  difference  between  one  particu- 
lar act,  and  a  man's  estate  or  inward  frame, 
which  they  either  consider  not,  or  willingly 
or  maliciously  neglect. 

3.  How  large  is  the  difference  that  there  is 
between  one  and  another  in  the  measure  of 
grace,  as  well  as  of  prudence,  either  in  their 
natural  disposition,  or  in  grace,  or  possibly  in 
both  I  Some  who  are  honest  in  the  matter 
of  religion,  vet,  being  very  weak,  may  mis- 
carry in  such  tliins^fs  as  ">tlier  ('hristians  come 
seldom  near  the  hazard  of.  And  though  some 
should  wholly  forsake  the  way  ol'  godliiie-s, 
wherein  they  seemed  to  walk,  yet  why  shc/uld 
that  reflect  uptm  such  as  are  real  and  stead- 
fast in  it?  Thr;y  went  out  from  vs,  says  the 
apostle,  f/ut  were  not  of  us,  1  John  ii.  19. 
Offences  of  this  kind  must  be,  bu;  the  wo  rests 
on  him  by  whom  Ihe}/  come,  not  on  other 
Christians.   And  if  it  spread  further  than  the 

I  party  offending,  the  wo  is  to  the  profane 
1  world,  that  take  offence  at  religion  because 
,  of  him  :  as  our  Savior  bath  exf)ressed  it,  Wo 
to  the  iijoild  hecaii.se  of  offences.  Matt,  xviii. 
1 7  ;  tliey  shall  stumble  and  fall,  and  break 


232 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Cpap.  m 


ihcir  necks  upon  these  stumbling-blocks  or  1 
scandals.  Thou  who  art  profani',  and  secst 
the  failing  of  a  minister  or  Christian,  and  art 
liardenid  by  it,  tiiis  is  a  judgment  to  ihce, 
tliat  thou  meeiest  with  such  a  block  in  thy 
way.  Wo  to  l/ic  trorhl .'  It  is  a  judgment 
ou  a  place,  when  God  permits  religion,  in  the 
persons  of  some,  to  be  scandalous. 

4.  Religion  itself  remains  still  the  same  : 
whatsoever  be  the  failings  and  blots  of  one  or 
more  who  profess  it,  it  is  itself  pure  and  spot- 
less, if  it  teach  not  holiness,  and  meekness, 
and  humility,  and  all  good,  purely,  then,  ex- 
cept against  it.  But  if  it  be  a  straight  golden 
reed  by  which  the  temple  is  measured  (Rev. 
xxi.  15),  then  let  it  have  its  own  esteem,  both 
of  straightness  and  preciousncss,  whatsoever 
unevenness  be  found  in  those  who  profess  to 
receive  it. 

Suspect  and  search  yourselves,  even  in  gen- 
eral, lor  this  evil  of  evil-speaking.  Consider 
that  we  are  to  give  [loyon  \oyCit]  an  account  of 
words;,  and  if  of  idle  [apyov  pnixa]  workless 
words,  how  much  more  of  lying  or  biting 
words  I—Z^fi  verba  mendaci  aul  mordaci,  as 
St.  Bernard  has  it.  Learn  more  humility 
and  self-censure.  Blunt  that  fire-edge  upon 
you-  own  hard  and  disordered  hearts,  that 
others  may  meet  with  nothing  but  charity 
and  lenity  at  your  hands. 

But  particularly  beware  of  this,  in  more  or 
less,  in  earnest  or  in  jest,  to  reproach  religion, 
or  those  who  profess  it.  Know  how  particu- 
larly the  glorious  name  of  GOD  is  interested 
in  that ;  and  they  who  dare  be  affronting  him, 
what  shall  they  say  ?  How  shall  they  stand, 
when  he  calls  them  to  account?  If  you  have 
not  attained  to  it,  yet  do  not  hark  against  it, 
but  the  rather  esteem  highly  of  religion.  Love 
it,  and  the  very  appearance  of  it,  wherever 
you  find  it.  Give  it  resj)ect  and  your  good 
word,  at  least ;  and,  from  an  external  appro- 
bation, oh  !  that  you  would  aspire  to  an  in- 
ward acquaintance  with  it,  and  then  no  more 
were  needful  to  be  said  in  this  ;  it  would  com- 
mend itself  to  you  sufficiently.  But,  in  the 
meantime,  be  ashamed,  be  afraid  of  that  pro- 
fessed enmity  against  God  thai  is  among  you, 
a  malignant,  hateful  spirit  against  those  who 
desire  to  walk  holily,  whetting  your  tongues 
against  them. 

Consider,  what  do  you  mean  ?  This  reli- 
gion which  we  all  profess,  is  it  the  way  to 
heaven,  or  is  it  not  ?  Do  you  believe  this  word, 
or  not  ?  If  you  do  not,  what  do  you  here  ?  If 
you  do,  then  you  must  believe,  loo,  that  those 
who  walk  closest  by  this  rule  are  surest  in 
that  way  ;  those  who  dare  not  share  in  your 
oaihs,  and  excessive  cups,  and  profane  con- 
versation. What  can  you  say  ?  It  is  not  pos- 
sible to  open  your  mouth  against  them,  with- 
out renouncing  this  word  and  failh  :  therefore, 
either  declare  you  are  no  Christians,  and  that 
Christ  is  not  yours,  or,  in  his  name,  I  enjoin 
you,  that  you  dare  no  more  speak  an  ill  word 
of  Christianity,  and  the  power  of  religion,  and 
those  who  seek  after  it.    There  are  not  many 


I  higher  signs  of  a  reprobate  mind,  than  to  hav* 
a  bitter,  virulent  spirit  against  the  children 
of  God.  Seek  that  tie  of  aifeclion  and  frater- 
nity, on  which  the  beloved  apostle,  St.  .lohn, 
lays  such  stress,  when  he  says.  Hereby  we 
know  that  ice  are  translated  from  death  to 
life,  because  we  love  the  brethren.  1  John 
ii'i.  14. 

But  because  those  hissings  are  the  natural 
voice  of  the  serpent's  seed,  expect  them,  you 
that  have  a  mind  to  follow  Christ,  and 
take  this  §uard  against  them  that  you  are 
here  directed  to  take:  Having  a  good  con- 
science. 

It  is  a  i'ruitless  verbal  debate,  whether  con- 
science be  a  faculty  or  habit,  or  not.  As  in 
other  things,  so  in  this,  which  most  of  all  re. 
quires  more  solid  and  useful  consideration, 
the  vain  mind  of  man  feedeth  on  the  wind, 
loves  to  be  busy  to  no  purpose,  inagno  conatu 
rnagnas  nugas.  How  much  belter  is  it  to 
have  ibis  supernatural  goodness  of  conscience, 
than  todisjiute  about  the  nature  of  it;  to  find 
it  duly  teaching  and  admonishing,  rejiroving 
and  comforting,  rather  than  to  define  it  most 
exactly  !  Mulo  sentrre  compunctioncm,  quam 
scire  ejus  defimtronem. 

When  all  is  examined,  conscience  will  be 
found  to  be  no  other  than  the  jnind  of  man 
under  the  notion  of  a  particular  reference  to 
himself  and  his  own  actions.  And  there  is  a 
twofold  goodness  of  the  conscience,  furity 
and  trnnipiilhty ;  and  this  latter  flows  from 
the  former,  so  that  the  former  is  the  thing 
we  ought  primarily  to  study,  and  the  latter 
will  follow  of  itself.  For  a  time,  indeed,  the 
conscience  that  is  in  a  good  measure  pure, 
may  he  unpeaceable,  but  still  it  is  the  apjn-e- 
hension  and  sense  of  present  or  former  impu- 
rity, that  makes  it  so  :  for,  without  the  con- 
sideration of  guiltiness,  there  is  nothing  that 
can  trouble  it :  it  can  not  apprehend  the  wrath 
of  God,  hut  with  relation  unto  sin. 

The  goodness  of  conscience  here  recom- 
mended, is,  the  tntegrity  and  h(diness  of  the 
whole  inward  man  in  a  Christian.  So,  thein- 
gredienls  of  it  are,  1.  A  dup  light  or  knowl- 
edge of  our  rule  :  that,  like  the  lamps  in  the 
temple,  must  be  siill  burning  within,  as  filthi- 
ness  is  always  the  conijiaiiion  of  darkness. 
Therefore,  if  you  would  have  a  good  con- 
science, you  must  bv  all  means  have  so  much 
light,  so  much  knowledge  of  ihe  will  of  God, 
as  may  regulate  you,  and  show  your  way, 
may  teach  you  how  to  do,  and  speak,  and 
think,  as  in  his  presence. 

2.  A  constant  regard  and  using  of  this  light, 
applying  it  to  all  things  :  not  slee])ing,  but 
working  by  it  :  siill  seeking  a  nearer  confor- 
mity with  the  known  will  of  our  God  ;  daily 
redressing  and  ordering  the  alllictions  by  it : 
not  sparing  lo  knock  olT  whatsoever  we  lind 
irregular  within,  that  our  hearts  may  be  pol- 
ished and  brought  to  a  right  frame  by  that 
rule.  And  this  is  the  daily  inward  work  of 
the  Christian,  his  great  business,  to  pvnfy  him- 
self as  the  Lord  is  pure.  1  John  iii.  3.  And, 


Ver.  IC] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


253 


3.  For  the  advancing  of  this  work,  there  is 
needful  a  frequent  search  of  our  hearts  and 
of  our  actions,  not  only  to  consider  what  we 
are  to  do,  but  what  we  have  done.  Tliese  re- 
flex inquiries,  as  they  are  a  main  part  of  the 
conscience's  proper  work,  are  a  chief  means 
of  making  and  keeping  the  conscience  good  ; 
first,  by  acquainting  the  soul  with  its  own 
state,  with  the  motions  and  inclinations  that 
are  most  natural  to  it ;  secondly,  by  stirring 
it  up  to  work  out,  and  purge  away  by  repent- 
ance, the  pollution  it  hath  contracted  by  any 
outward  act  or  inward  motion  of  sin  ;  and, 
thirdly,  this  search  both  excites  and  enables 
the  conscience  to  be  more  watchful ;  teaches 
how  to  avoid  and  prevent  the  like  errors  for 
the  time  to  come.  As  natural  wise  men  labor 
to  gain  thus  much  out  of  their  former  over- 
sights in  iheir  affairs,  to  be  the  wiser  and 
warier  by  them,  and  lay  up  that  as  bought 
wit,  which  they  have  paid  dear  for,  and  there- 
fore are  careful  to  make  their  best  advantage 
of  it :  so  God  makes  the  consideration  of  their 
falls  preservatives  to  his  children  from  falling 
again,  makes  a  medicine  of  this  poison. 

Thus,  that  the  conscience  may  be  good,  it 
must  be  enlightened,  and  it  must  be  watch- 
ful, botli  advising  before,  and  after  censuring, 
accordmg  to  that  light. 

The  greater  part  of  mankind  little  regard 
this :  they  walk  by  guess,  having  perhaps  ig- 
norant consciences,  and  the  blind,  you  say, 
swallow  many  a  fly.  Yea,  how  many  con- 
sciences are  without  sense,  an  scared  with  a 
hot  iron,  1  Tim.  iv.  2  :  so  stupified,  that  they 
feel  nothing!  Others  rest  satisfied  with  a 
civil  nghteousness,  an  imagined  goodness  of 
conscience,  because  they  are  free  from  gross 
crimes.  Others,  who  know  the  rule  of  Chris- 
tianity, yet  study  not  a  conscientious  respect 
to  it  in  all  things:  they  cast  some  transient 
looks  ui)on  the  rule  and  their  own  hearts,  it 
may  be,  but  sit  not  down  to  compare  them, 
make  it  not  their  business,  have  lime  for  any- 
thing but  that,  Non  vacant  hnna;  menti.  They 
do  not,  with  St.  Paul,  exercise  themselves  in 
this,  to  have,  a  conscience  void  of  njfencfi  tow- 
ard Gud  and  men.  Actsxxiv.  16.  Those  were 
his  axcctics  \d„'u,\  ■  he  exhausted  himself  in 
striving  against  what  might  defile  the  con- 
science ;  or,  as  the  word  signifies,  elahoratily 
wrouf^lil  and  drrssed  his  conscience  f  At.  >,-7  /<^,i 
yjr,.^i\,  HoM.  Think  you,  while  other  things 
can  not  be  done  without  diligence  and  inten- 
tion, that  this  is  a  work  to  be  done  at  random  ? 
No,  it  is  the  most  exact  and  curious  of  all 
works,  to  have  the  conscience  right,  and  keep 
it  .so  ;  as  watches,  or  other  such  neat  pieces 
of  workrmirisliip,  except  they  be  daily  wound 
up  and  skilfully  handled,  will  quickly  go 
wrong.  V'ea,  beside  daily  inspection,  con- 
8cieiic;e  should,  like  those,  at  some  times  be 
taken  to  pieces,  and  more  accurately  cleansed, 
for  the  best  kept  will  gather  soil  and  dust. 
Sometimes  a  Christian  should  set  himself  to 
a  more  solemn  examination  of  his  own  heart, 
beyond  his  daily  search  ;  and  all  little  enough 


to  have  so  precious  a  good  as  this,  a  good 
conscience.  They  who  are  most  diligent  and 
vigilant,  find  nothing  to  abate  as  superfluotis, 
but  still  need  of  more.  The  heart  is  to  be 
kept  with  all  diligence,  or  above  all  keeping. 
Prov.  iv.  23.  Corruption  within  is  ready  to 
grow  and  gain  upon  it,  if  it  be  never  so  little 
neglected,  and  from  without,  to  invade  it  and 
get  in.  We  breathe  in  a  corrupt  infectetf 
air,  and  have  need  daily  to  antidote  the  heart 
against  it. 

You  that  are  studying  to  be  excellent  in 
this  art  of  a  good  conscience,  go  on,  seek 
daily  progress  in  it.  The  study  of  conscience 
is  a  more  sweet,  profitable  study  than  that  of 
all  science,  wherein  is  much  vexation,  and, 
for  the  most  part,  little  or  no  fruit.  Read  this 
book  diligently,  and  correct  your  errata  by 
that  other  book,  the  word  of  God.  Labor  to 
have  it  pure  and  right.  Other  books  and 
works  are  [irtAuny.i]  curious,  and  [inotoy.i]  by- 
iDorks,  they  shall  not  appear  ;  but  this  is  cr.° 
of  the  books  that  shall  be  opened  in  that 
great  day,  according  to  which  we  must  be 
judged.   Rev.  xx.  12. 

On  this  follows  a  good  conversation,  so  in- 
separably connected  with  a  good  conscience. 
Grace  is  of  a  lively,  active  nature,  and  doth 
act  like  itself.  Holiness  in  the  heart,  will  be 
holiness  in  the  life  too  ;  not  some  good  ac- 
tions, but  a  good  conversation,  a  uniform, 
even  tract  of  life,  the  whole  revolution  of  it 
regular.  The  inequality  of  some  Christians' 
ways  doth  breed  much  discredit  to  religion, 
and  discomfort  to  themselves. 

But  observe  here,  1.  The  order  of  these 
two-    2.  The  principle  of  both. 

1.  The  order.  First,  the  conscience  good, 
and  then  the  conversation.  Make  the  tree 
good  and  the  fruit  will  he  good,  says  our  Sa- 
vior. Matt.  xii.  33.  So,  here,  a  good  con- 
science is  the  root  of  a  good  conversation. 
Most  men  begin  at  the  wrong  end  of  this 
work.  They  would  reform  the  outward  man 
first :  that  will  do  no  good  ;  it  will  be  but  dead 
work. 

Do  not  rest  upon  external  reformations,  they 
will  not  hold  ;  there  is  no  abiding,  nor  any 
advantage,  in  su(-h  a  work.  You  ihi:ik,  when 
reproved,  "  Oh  !  I  will  tnend  and  set  about 
the  redress  of  some  outward  things."  But 
this  is  as  good  as  to  do  nothing.  The  mind 
and  conscience  being  defiled,  as  the  aposlle 
speaks,  Titus  i.  1.5,  doth  defile  all  the  rest:  it 
is  a  mire  in  the  spring  ;  although  the  pipes 
are  cleansed,  they  will  grow  quickly  foul 
\  again.  If  Christians  in  their  progress  in  grace 
j  would  eye  this  most,  that  the  conscience  ne 
growing  purer,  the  heart  more  spiritual,  the 
j  affections  more  regular  and  heavenly,  their 
outward  carriage  would  be  holier;  whereas 
the  outward  work  of  performing  duties,  and 
being  much  exercised  in  religion,  may,  by  the 
neglect  of  this,  be  labor  in  vain,  an(i  amend 
nothing  soundly.  To  set  the  outward  actions 
right,  though  with  an  honest  intention,  and 
not  so  to  regard  and  find  out  the  inward  dis- 


254  A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


order  of  the  heart,  ■\vlionco  iliat  in  the  actions 
tlows,  is  but  to  be  siill  jaittini;  the  index  of  a 
clock  light  with  your  linger,  while  it  is  foul, 
or  out  of  order  within,  which  is  a  continual 
business,  and  does  no  good.  Oh  !  but  a  puri- 
fied conscience,  a  soul  renewed  and  relined 
in  its  leniperand  atfeciions,  will  make  things 
go  riglit  without,  in  all  the  duties  and  acts  of 
our  callings. 

2.  The  principle  of  good  in  both,  is  Christ: 
Your  i>oo(l  conversation  in  Christ.  The  con- 
versation is  not  good,  Unless  in  him  ;  so  neither 
is  the  conscience.  ' 

[1.]  In  him,  AS  to  our  persons:  we  must  be 
in  him,  and  then,  the  conscience  and  conver- 
sation will  be  good  in  him.  The  conscience 
that  is  morally  good,  having  some  kind  of 
virtuous  habits,  yet  being  out  of  Christ,  is 
nothing  but  pollution  in  the  sight  of  God.  It 
must  be  washed  in  his  blood,  ere  it  can  be 
clean  ;  all  our  pains  will  not  cleanse  it,  floods 
of  tears  will  not  do  it  ;  it  is  blood,  and  that 
blood  alone,  that  hath  the  virtue  of  inir!;in<r 
the  conscience  from  dead  in/rks.  Heb.  ix.  14. 
,  [2.]  In  him,  as  the  perfect  pattern  of  holi- 
ness ;  the  heart  and  life  must  be  conformed  to 
him,  and  so  made  truly  good. 

[3.1  In  him,  as  the  source  of  grace,  whence 
it  is  first  derived,  and  always  fed,  and  main- 
tained, and  made  active  :  a  Spirit  goes  ibrth 
from  hirn  that  cleanseth  our  spirits,  and  so, 
makes  our  conversation  clean  and  holy. 

Jf  thou  wouldst  have  thy  conscience  and 
hearts  purified  and  jiacified,  and  have  thy  life 
certified,  go  to  Christ  for  all,  make  use  of  him  ; 
as  of  his  good  to  wash  off  ihy  guiltiness,  so 
of  his  Spirit  to  purify  and  sanctify  thee.  If 
thou  wouldst  have  thy  heart  reserved  for 
God,  pure  as  his  temple  ;  if  thou  wouldst  have 
thy  lusts  cast  out  which  pollute  thee,  and 
findest  no  piAver  to  do  it;  go  to  him,  desire 
him  to  scourge  out  that  filthy  rabble,  that 
abuse  his  house  and  make  it  a  den  of  thieves. 
Seek  this,  as  the  only  way  to  have  thy  soul 
and  thy  ways  righted  to  be  in  Christ,  and 
then,  valk  in  him.  Let  thy  conversation  be 
in  Christ.  Study  him,  and  follow  him  :  look 
on  his  way,  on  his  graces,  his  obedience,  and 
humility,  and  meekness,  till,  by  looking  on 
them,  liiev  make  the  very  idea  of  thee  new, 
as  the  painter  doth  of  a  face  he  would  draw 
to  the  life.  So  behold  his  glory,  that  thou 
mayest  be  transformed  from  glory  to  glory. 
But  as  it  is  there  added,  this  must  be  by  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord.  2  Cor.  iii.  18.  Do  not, 
therefore,  look  on  his  simply,  as  an  example 
without  thee,  but  as  life  within  thee.  Having 
received  him,  walk  not  only  like  him,  but  in 
kim,as  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  speaks.  Col.  ii.  6. 
And  as  the  word  is  here,  have  your  conversa- 
tion, not  only  according  to  Christ,  but  in 
Christ.  Draw  from  his  fulness  grace  for 
grace.  John.  i.  16. 

II.  The  other  thing  in  the  words,  is,  the 
advantage  of  this  good  conscience  and  con- 
versation. 1.  There  is  even  an  external  success 
attends  it,  in  respect  of  the  malicious,  ungodly 


fCiiAf.  m 

world  :  They  shall  he  ashamed  thai  fah 
accuse  you.  Thus  often  it  is  even  mosi  evid  ?nl 
to  men  ;  the  victory  of  innocency,  silent  in- 
nocency,  most  strongly  ciailuting  all  calumny, 
making  the  ungodly,  false  accusers  bide  theii 
heads.  Thus,  without  stirring,  the  inle<irit} 
of  a  Christian  conquers  :  as  a  rock,  unremoved, 
breaks  the  waters  that  are  dasliing  against  it. 
And  this  is  not  only  a  lawful,  but  a  laudable 
way  of  revenge,  shaming  calumny  out  of  it, 
and  punishing  evil-speakers  b\  well-doing  ; 
showing  really  how  false  tiieir  accusers  were. 
This  is  the  most  powerful  aj)ology  and  refuta- 
tion ;  as  the  sophister  who  v.'ould  prove  there 
was  no  motion,  was  best  answered  by  the 
philosopher's  rising  up  and  walking.  And 
without  this  good  conscience  and  conversa- 
tion, we  cut  ourselves  short  of  other  apologies 
for  religion,  whatsoever  we  say  for  it.  One 
unchristian  action  will  disgrace  it  more  than 
we  can  repair  by  the  largest  and  best-framed 
speeches  on  its  behalf. 

Let  those,  therefore,  who  have  given  their 
names  to  Christ  honor  him,  and  their  holy 
profession,  most  this  way.  Sjieak  for  him  as 
occasion  requires; — why  should  we  nt'  pro- 
vided it  be  with  meekness  and  fear,  at  oui 
aposlle  haih  taughi  ?— but  let  this  be  the  main 
defence  of  religion :  live  suitably  to  it,  and 
commend  it  so.  Thus  all  sh(juld  do  who  are 
called  Christians  ;  they  should  adorn  that 
holy  profession  with  holy  conversation.  But 
the  most  are  nothing  better  than  spots  and 
blots,  some  walU)wing  in  the  mire,  and  pro- 
voking one  another  lo  all  undeanness.  Oh  ! 
the  unchristian  life  of  Christians;  an  evil  to 
be  much  lamented,  more  than  all  the  troubles 
we  sustain  !  But  these,  indeed,  do  thus  deny 
Christ,  and  declare  that  they  are  not  his.  So 
many  as  have  any  reality  of  Christ  in  you,  be 
so  much  the  more  holy,  the  more  wicked  the 
rest  are.  Strive  to  make  it  up,  and  to  honor 
that  name  which  they  disgrace.  And  if  they 
will  reproach  you,  because  ye  walk  not  with 
them,  and  cast  the  mire  of  false  reproaches 
on  you,  take  no  notice,  but  go  on  your  way  ; 
it  will  dry,  and  easily  rub  off.  Be  not  troubled 
with  misjudgings  ;  shame  them  out  of  it  by 
your  blameless  and  holy  carriage,  for  that 
will  do  most  to  put  lies  out  of  countenance. 
However,  if  they  continue  imi)udeiit,  the  day 
is  at  hand,  wherein  all  the  enemies  of  Christ 
shall  be  all  clothed  over  and  covered  with 
shame,  and  they  who  have  kept  a  good  con- 
science, and  walked  in  Christ,  shall  lift  up 
their  faces  with  joy. 

2dly.  There  is  an  Intrinsical  good  in  this 
goodness  of  conscience,  that  sweetens  all  suf- 
ferings :  as  it  follows, — 

Ver.  17.  For  it  is  better,  if  the  will  of  Clod  be  so,  I  hat 
ye  suffer  for  well  doing,  than  for  evil  doi  ig. 

There  is  a  necessity  of  suffering  in  any  v?ay 
wherein  ye  can  walk  ;  if  ye  choose  the  v;aj 
of  wickedness,  you  shall  not,  by  doing  so, 
escape  suffering  ;  and  that  supposed,  this  is 
by  far  the  better,  to  suffer  in  well-doing  and 


I 


^TM.  17.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


255 


fnr  it,  than  to  suffer  either  for  doing  evil,  or 
simply  to  suffer  in  that  wai/  (as  the  words 
run),  Ku-i/T'.iuiiri5  rio-yEu',  to  Suffer  doing  evil. 

The  way  of  the  ungodly  in  not  exempt 
from  suffering,  even  at  present.  Setting 
aside  the  judgment  and  wrath  to  come,  they 
often  sufl'er  from  the  hands  of  men,  whether 
justly  or  unjustly,  and  often  from  the  imme- 
diate hand  of  God,  who  is  always  just,  both 
in  this  and  the  other,  causing  the  sinner  to 
eat  of  the  fruit  of  his  own  ways.  Prov.  i.  30. 
When  profane,  ungodly  men  offer  violences 
and  wrongs  one  to  another,  in  this  God  is 
just  against  both,  in  that  wherein  they  them- 
selves are  both  unjust:  they  are  both  rebel- 
lious against  him,  and  so,  though  they  intend 
not  to  take  up  his  quarrel,  he  means  it  him- 
self, and  sets  them  to  lash  one  another.  The 
wicked  profess  their  combined  enmity  against 
the  children  of  God,  yet  they  are  not  always 
at  peace  among  themselves:  they  often  re- 
vile and  defame  each  other,  and  so  it  is  kept 
up  on  both  sides.  Whereas  the  godly  can 
not  hold  them  game  in  that,  being  like  their 
Lord,  who,  when  he  was  reviled,  reviled  not 
again.  Besides,  although  the  ungodly  flour- 
ish at  some  times,  yet  they  have  their  days 
of  sufl'ering,  are  subject  to  the  common  mise- 
ries of  thelifeof  man, and  thecommon  calami- 
lies  of  evil  times  ;  the  sword  and  the  pesti- 
lence, and  such  like  public  judgments.  Now, 
in  what  kind  soever  it  be  that  they  suffer, 
they  are  at  a  great  disadvantage,  compared 
with  the  godly,  in  their  sufferings. 

Here  impure  consciences  may  lie  sleeping, 
while  men  are  at  t>asc  themselves  ;  but  when 
any  great  trouble  comes  and  shakes  them, 
then,  suddenly,  the  conscience  begins  to 
awake  and  bustle,  and  proves  more  grievous 
to  them,  than  all  that  comes  on  them  from 
\vithout.  When  they  remember  their  despi- 
sing the  ways  of  God,  their  neglecting  of  him 
and  holy  things,  whence  they  are  convinced 
bow  comfort  might  be  reaped  in  these  days 
of  distress,  this  cuts  and  galls  them  most, 
looking  back  at  their  licentious  profane  ways  ; 
each  of  them  strikes  to  the  heart.  As  the 
apostle  calls  sin,  the  sling  of  death,  so  is  it 
of  all  sufferings,  and  the  sting  that  strikes 
deepest  into  the  very  soul :  no  stripes  are  like 
those  that  are  secretly  given  by  an  accusing 
conscience.    Sturdo  verhere  cedit.  Jrv. 

A  sad  condition  it  is,  to  have  thence  the 
greatest  anguish,  whence  the  greatest  comfort 
should  be  expected  :  to  have  thickest  dark- 
ness, whence  they  should  look  for  the  clear- 
est light.  Men  who  have  evil  consciences, 
love  not  to  be  with  thern,  are  not  much  with 
themselves  :  as  Si.  Augustine  compares  them 
to  such  as  have  slirewd  wives,  they  love  not 
to  be  much  at  h(jme.  But  y(!r,  outward  dis- 
,res»5  sets  a  man  inward,  as  foul  weather 
drives  him  home,  and  there,  where  he  should 
find  comfort,  he  is  met  with  such  accusations 
as  are  hhe  a  r.nnlinval  drnj}pin<r,  as  Soltjmon 
upeaks  of  a:  contentious  woman,  Prov.  xix.  2. 
[t  IS  a  most  wretched  slate,  to  live  under  suf- 


ferings or  afflictions  of  any  kind,  and  be  a 
stranger  to  God  ;  for  a  man  to  have  God  and 
his  conscience  against  hmi,  that  should  be 
his  solace  in  times  oi  distress  ;  being  knocked 
off  from  the  comforts  of  the  world,  whereon 
he  rested,  and  having  no  provision  of  spirit- 
ual comfort  within,  nor  expectation  from 
above. 

But  the  children  of  God,  in  their  suffermgs, 
especially  in  such  as  are  encountered  for  God, 
can  retire  within  themselves,  and  rejoice  in 
the  testimony  of  a  good  conscience,  yea,  in 
the  possession  of  Christ  dwelling  within 
them.  All  the  trouble  that  befalls  them,  is 
but  as  the  rattling  of  hail  upon  the  tiles  of 
the  house,  to  a  man  who  is  sitting  within  a 
warm  room  at  a  rich  banquet ;  and  such  is  a 
good  conscience,  a  feast,  yea,  a  contnmai 
feast.  The  believer  looks  on  his  Christ,  and 
n  him  reads  his  deliverance  from  condemna- 
tion, and  that  is  a  strong  comfort,  a  cordial 
that  keeps  him  from  .'aiming  in  the  greatest 
distresses.  When  the  conscience  gives  this 
testimony,  that  sin  is  forgiven,  it  raises  the 
soul  above  outward  sufferings.  Tell  the 
Christian  of  loss  of  goods,  or  liberty,  or 
friends,  or  life,  he  answers  all  with  this: 
Christ  is  mine,  and  my  sin  is  pardoned ; 
that  is  enough  for  me.  What  would  I  not 
have  suffered,  to  have  been  delivered  from  the 
wrath  of  God,  if  any  sufTeringof  mine  in  this 
world  could  have  done  that  ?  Now  that  is 
done  to  my  liand,  all  other  sufferings  are 
light  :  they  are  light  and  /lut  for  a  moment. 
One  thought  of  eternity  drowns  the  whole 
time  of  the  world's  duration,  which  is  but  as 
one  instant,  or  twinkling  of  an  eye,  between 
eternity  before,  and  elcrniiy  after ;  how  much 
less  is  any  short  life  (and  a  small  part  of 
that  is  spent  in  suffcrinirs),  yea,  what  is  it, 
though  it  were  all  sufferings  wiihout  inter- 
ruption, which  yet  it  is  noli  When  I  look 
fijrward  to  the  crown,  all  vanishes,  and  I  think 
it  less  than  nothing.  Now,  these  things  the 
good  conscience  speaks  to  the  Christian  in 
his  sufferings  ;  therefore,  certainly,  his  choice 
is  best,  who  provides  it  for  his  companion 
against  evil  and  troublous  times.  If  moral 
integrity  went  so  far  (as  truly  ii  did  in  some 
men  who  bad  much  of  it),  that  they  scorned 
all  hard  encounters,  and  esteemed  this  a  suf- 
ficient bulwark,  a  siringth  impregnable, ///c 
mums  aheneus  esto,  nil  conscire  sihi,  how 
much  more  the  Christian's  good  conscience, 
which  alone  is  truly  su(;h  ! 

As  the  Christian  may  thus  look  inward, 
and  rejoice  in  tribulation,  so  there  is  another 
\ooV, ypward,  that  is  here  likewise  mentioned, 
that  allays  very  much  all  the  sufferings  of  the 
saints:  Jf  the  will  of  Cod  he  so. 

The  Christian  mind  hath  still  one  eye  to 
this,  looking  above  the  band  of  men,  and  all 
inferior  causes,  in  suffering,  wheilier  for  the 
name  of  (Jod,  or  otherwise;  he  looks  on  the 
sovereign  will  of  God,  and  sweetly  complies 
with  that  in  all.  Neither  is  there  anytbing 
that  doth  more  powerfully  com[)ose  and  quiet 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  III. 


the  mind  than  this  ;  it  makes  it  invincibly 
linn  iuul  coniont,  when  it  haih  atiained  this 
solf-resignaiion  to  liie  wili  of  God,  so  as  to 
agree  to  that  in  everything.  This  is  the 
very  thing  wlierein  tran(iiiillity  of" spirit  lies: 
it  is  no  riilclle,  nor  liaril  to  he  understood,  yet 
lew  attain  ii.  And,  I  pray  you,  what  is 
gained  by  our  reluctances  and  re[)inings,  but 
pain  to  ourselves?  God  doth  what  he  u-tU, 
whcilier  we  consent  or  not.  Our  disagree- 
ing doih  not  prevent  his  purposes,  but  our 
own  peace:  if  we  will  not  be  led,  we  are 
drawn.  We  must  suller,  if  he  will  ;  but  if 
we  will  what  he  wills,  even  in  suffering,  that 
makes  it  sweet  and  easy  ;  when  our  mind 
goes  along  with  his,  and  we  willingly  move 
with  that  stream  of  ])rovidence,  which  will 
carry  us  with  it,  even  though  we  row  against 
it ;  in  which  case  we  still  have  nothing  but 
toil  and  weariness  for  our  pains. 

But  this  hard  argument  of  necessity,  is 
needless  to  the  child  of  God,  who,  persuaded 
of  the  wisdom  and  love  of  his  Father,  knows 
that  to  be  truly  best  for  him  that  his  hand 
bestows.  Sufferings  are  unpleasant  to  the 
flesh,  and  it  will  grumble  ;  but  the  voice  of 
the  spirit  of  God,  in  his  children,  is  that  of 
of  that  good  king  (Isa.  xxxix.  8),  Good  is  the 
word  of  the  Lord.  Let  him  do  with  me  as 
seemeih  good  in  his  eyes.  My  foolish  heart 
would  think  these  things  I  suffer  might  be 
abated,  but  my  wise  and  heavenly  Father 
thinks  otherwise.  He  hath  his  design  of 
honor  to  himself,  and  good  to  me  in  these, 
which  I  would  be  loath  to  cross  if  I  might.  I 
mighi  do  God  more  service  by  those  tempo- 
ral advaniages,  but  doth  not  he  know  best 
what  is  fit  ?  Can  not  he  advance  his  grace 
more  by  the  want  of  these  things  I  desire, 
than  I  could  do  myself  by  having  them? 
Can  not  he  make  me  a  gainer  by  sickness 
and  poverty,  and  disgraces,  and  loss  of  friends 
and  children,  by  making  up  all  in  himself, 
and  teaching  me  more  of  his  all-sufficiency  ? 
Yea,  even  concerning  the  affairs  of  my  soul, 
I  am  to  give  up  all  to  his  good  pleasure. 
Though  I  desire  the  light  of  his  countenance 
above  all  things  in  this  world,  yet,  if  he  see 
fit  to  hide  it  sometimes,  if  that  be  his  will, 
let  me  not  murmur.  There  is  nothing  lost 
by  this  obedient  temper;  yea,  what  way  so- 
ever he  deals  with  us,  there  is  much  more 
advantage  in  it.  No  soul  shall  enjoy  so 
much  in  all  estates,  as  that  which  hath  di- 
vested and  renounced  itself,  and  hath  no  will 
tut  God's. 

Ver.  18.  For  Christ  also  hath  once  sufTcred  for  sins, 
the  just  lor  tlie  unjust  (that  he  might  bring  us  to 
God),  being  put  to  death  in  tlic  flesh,  but  quick- 
ened by  the  Spirit. 

The  whole  life  of  a  Christian,  is  a  steady 
aiming  at  conformity  with  Christ  ;  so  that  in 
anything,  whether  doing  or  suffering,  there 
can  be  no  argument  so  apposite  and  persua- 
sive as  his  example,  and  no  exercise  of  ohe- 
lience,  either  active  or  passive,  so  difficult, 
lut  'he  view  and  contemplation  of  that  ex- 


ample will  powerfully  sweeten  it.  I'he  apos- 
tle doth  not  decline  the  freijuent  use  of  it. 
Here  we  have  it  llius:  For  Chrt.st  ntso  .nif- 
fered. 

Though  the  doctrine  of  Christian  f  affering, 
is  the  occasion  of  his  speaking  of  Christ's 
suffering,  yet  he  insists  on  it  beyond  the  sim- 
ple necessity  of  that  argument,  for  iis  own 
excellency  and  for  fui  iher  usefulness.  So  we 
shall  consider  the  doulde  cajiacity.  I.  As  an 
encouragement  and  engagement  for  Chris- 
tians to  suffer.  H.  As  the  great  point  of 
their  faith,  whereon  all  their  hopes  and  hap- 
piness depend,  being  the  means  of  their  res- 
toration to  God. 

I.  The  due  consideration  of  Christ's  suffer- 
ings doth  much  temper  all  the  sufferings  of 
Christians,  especially  such  as  are  directly  for 
Christ. 

It  is  some  known  ease  to  the  mind,  in  any 
distress,  to  look  upon  examples  of  the  like,  or 
greater  distress,  in  preeent  or  former  times. 
Ferre  quam  sorlcrn  potiunttir  omnes.  It  di- 
verts the  eye  from  continual  poring  on  our 
own  suffering  ;  and,  when  we  return  to  view 
it  again,  it  lessens  it,  abates  of  the  imagined 
bulk  and  greatness  of  it.  Thus  public,  thus 
spiritual  troubles  are  lightened  ;  and  particu- 
larly the  sufferings  and  temptations  of  the 
godly,  by  the  consideration  of  this  as  their 
common  lot,  their  highway,  not  new  in  the 
person  of  any:  A'o  fcmptation  has  befallen 
you,  hut  what  is  common  to  men.  1  Cor.  x. 
13.  If  we  trace  the  lives  of  the  most  em- 
inent saints,  shall  we  not  find  every  nota- 
ble step  that  is  recorded,  marked  witli  a  new 
cross,  one  trouble  following  on  another,  velvt 
unda  fellitur  %tnda,  as  the  waves  do,  in  an 
incessant  succession  ?  Is  not  this  manifest 
in  the  life  of  Abraham,  and  of  .lacob,  and  the 
rest  of  God's  worthies,  in  the  Scriptures? 
And  doth  not  this  make  it  an  unreasonable, 
absurd  thought,  to  dream  of  an  exemption  ? 
Would  any  one  have  a  new  untrodden  way 
cut  out  for  him,  free  of  thorns,  and  strewed 
with  flowers  all  along  ?  Does  he  expect  lo 
meet  with  no  contradictions,  nor  hard  meas- 
ure from  the  world,  or  imagine  that  the  3 
may  be  such  a  dexierity  necessary,  as  to  ke  p 
its  good  will,  and  the  friendship  of  God  too  ? 
This  will  not  be  ;  and  it  is  a  universal  con- 
clusion, .4//  that  loiU  live  srodly  m  Christ  Je- 
sus, must  suffer  persecution.  2  Tim.  iii.  12. 
This  is  the  path  to  the  kingdom,  that  which 
all  the  sons  of  God,  the  heirs  of  it,  iiave  gone 
in,  even  Christ ;  according  to  that  well  known 
word,  One  son  without  sin,  but  not  one  with- 
out suffering  :  Christ  also  svfj'rrctl. 

The  example  and  company  of  the  saints  in 
suffering,  is  very  considerable,  but  that  of 
Christ  is  more  so  than  any  other,  yea, 
than  all  the  rest  together.  'I'herefore  the 
apostle,  having  represented  the  former  at 
large,  ends  in  this,  as  the  top  of  all,  Heb.  xii, 
1,  2.  There  is  a  race  set  before  us,  it  is  to  be 
run,  and  run  with  patience,  and  without  faint- 
ing:  now,  he  tells  us  of  a  cloud  of  witnesses. 


i'ER.  18.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


257 


a  cloud  made  up  of  instances  of  believers  suf- 
fering before  us,  and  the  heat  of  the  day 
wherein  we  run  is  somewhat  cooled  even  by 
that  cloud  compassing  us  ;  but  the  main 
strena^th  of  our  comfort  here,  lies  in  lookin, 


as  poor  as  thou  canst  be,  and  had  not  where 
to  lay  his  head,  worse  provided  than  the 
birds  and  foxes  !  Bui  then,  consider  to  what 
a  height  his  suffermgs  rose  in  the  end,  that 
most  remarkable  part  of  them  here  meant  by 


to  Jesus,  in  the  eving  of  his  sufferings  and  his  once  suffering  for  sins.  If  thou  shouldst 
their  issue.    The  considering  and  contempla-  i  be  cut  off  by  a  violent  death,  or  in  the  prime 


ting  of  him  will  be  the  strongest  cordial, 
will  keep  you  from  wearying  and  fainting  in 
the  way,  as  it  is  verse  3. 

The  singular  power  of  this  instance,  lies  in 
many  particulars  considerable  in  it.  To  spe- 
cify some  chief  things  briefly  in  the  steps  of 
the  present  words:  Consider,  1.  The  great- 
ness of  the  example. 

[1.]  The  greatness  of  the  person,  Christ, 
which  is  marked  out  to  us  by  the  manner  of 
expression  Koiut.u]  Christ  also  ;  besides 
and  beyond  all  others,  even  Christ  himself. 

There  can  be  no  higher  example.  Not 
only  are  the  sons  of  adoption  sufferers,  but  the 
bei;otten,  the  only  begotten  Son,  the  eternal 
.leir  of  glory,  i«  whom  all  the  rest  have  their 
title,  iheir  sonshipand  heirship,  derived  from, 
and  dependant  on  his  ;  not  only  all  the  saints, 
but  the  king  of  saints.  Who  now  shall  re- 
pine at  suffering  ?  Shall  the  wretched  sons 
of  men  refuse  to  suffer,  after  the  suffering  of 
the  spotless,  glorious  Son  of  God  ?  As  St. 
Bernard  speaks  of  pride,  Ubi  se  humiliavrt 
Mnjestas,  verrmculus  infletiir  et  intumescnl — 
Afier  majesty,  highest  majesty,  to  teach  us 
humiliiy,  hath  so  humbled  himself,  how 
wicked  and  impudent  a  thinij  will  it  be  f(jr  a 
worm  to  swell,  to  be  high  conceited  !  Since  : 
thus  our  Lord  hath  taught  us  by  suffering  in 
his  own  person,  and  hatn  diijnified  sufferings 
so,  we  should  certainly  rather  be  ambitious 
than  afraid  of  them. 

[2.]  The  greatness  and  the  continuance  of 
his  sufferings.  That  which  the  apostle  speaks 
here,  of  his  once  suffering,  hath  its  truth  : 
taking  in  all.  He  suffered  once  ;  his  whole 
life  was  one  continued  line  of  suffering,  from 
the  manger  to  the  cross.  All  that  lay  be- 
tween was  suitable  ;  his  estate  and  entertain- 
ment throughout  his  whole  life,  agreed  well 
with  so  mean  a  beginning,  and  so  reproach- 
ful an  end,  of  it.  Forced  upon  a  flight,  while 
he  could  not  go,  and  living  till  he  appeared  in 
public,  in  a  very  mean  despised  condition,  as 
the  carpenter's  son  ;  and,  afterward,  his  best 
works  paid  with  envy  and  revilings,  called  a 
wine-bibber ,  and  a  caster  out  of  devils  by  the 
prince  of  devils  ;  his  life  often  laid  in  wait 
and  sought  for.  Art  thou  mean  in  thv  birth 
and  life,  despised,  misjudged,  and  reviled,  on 
all  hands?  Look  how  it  was  with  him,  who 
had  rnore  right  than  thou  hast,  to  better  en- 
tertainment in  the  world.  Thou  wilt  not 
deny  it  was  his  own  ;  it  was  made  by  him, and 
he  was  m  it,  and  it  knew  him  not.  Are  thy 
friends  harsh  to  thee  ?  He  came  unto  his 
own,  and  his  own  received  him  not.  Hast  j 
thou  a  mean  cottage,  or  art  thou  drawn  from 
it  and  hast  no  dwelling,  and  art  thou  evety 
way  poor  and  ill-accommodated?  He  was 
33 


of  thy  years,  mayest  thou  not  look  upon  him 
as  going  before  thee  in  both  these  ?  And  in 
so  ignominious  a  way  I  Scourged,  butTeied, 
and  spit  on,  he  endured  all.  He  gave  his  back 
to  the  smiters,  and  then,  as  the  same  prophet 
haih  it,  He  was  numbered  among  the  trans- 
gressors. Isa.  liii.  ult.  When  they  had  used 
nim  with  all  that  shame,  they  hanged  him 
between  two  thieves,  and  they  that  passed 
by  wagged  their  heads,  and  darted  taunts  at 
him,  as  at  a  mark  fixed  to  the  cross:  they 
scoffed  and  said.  He  saved  others,  himself  he 
can  not  save.  He  endured  the  cross,  and  de- 
spised the  shame,  says  the  apostle,  Heb.  xii.  2. 

Thus  wesee  theoutsideof  hissutferings.  But 
the  Christian  is  subject  to  grievous  tempta- 
tions and  sad  desertions,  which  are  heavier 
by  far  than  the  sufferings  which  indeed  the 
apostle  speaks  of  here.  Yet  even  in  these, 
this  same  argument  of  his  holds.  For  our 
Savior  is  not  unacquainted  with,  nor  ignorant 
of,  either  of  those,  though  still  icitliout  sin. 
If  any  of  that  had  been  in  any  of  his  suffer- 
ings, it  had  not  furthered,  but  undone  all  our 
comfort  in  him.  But  tempted  he  was  ;  He 
suffered  that  way  too,  and  the  temptations 
were  terrible,  as  you  know.  And  was  there 
not  some  strong  conflict  when  he  fell  dowrt 
and  prayed  in  the  garden,  and  sweat  drops  of 
blood  ?  Was  there  not  an  awful  eclipse,  when 
he  cried  out  on  the  cross,  My  God,  my  God, 
ivhy  hast  thou  forsaken  'me  ?  So  that,  even  in 
these,  we  may  apply  this  comfort,  and  stay 
ourselves  or  our  souls  on  him,  and  go  to  him 
as  a  compassionate  High-Priest.  Heb.  iv.  L5. 
For  Christ  also  suffered. 

2.  Consider  the  fitness  of  the  example.  As 
the  same  is  every  way  great,  yea,  greatest, 
so  it  is  fit,  the  fittest  to  take  with  a  Chris- 
tian, to  set  before  him,  as  being  so  near  a 
pattern,  wherein  he  hath  so  much  interest. 
As  the  argument  is  strong  in  itself,  so,  to  the 
new  man,  the  Christian  man,  it  is  particu- 
larly stror  gest ;  it  binds  him  most,  as  it  is  not 
far  fetched,  but  exemplum  domesticum,a.  home 
pattern  ;  as  when  you  persuade  men  to  virtue,, 
by  the  example  of  those  that  they  have  a  near 
relation  to.  They  are  his  servants,  and  shall 
they,  or  would  they,  think  to  be  greater  than 
their  Master,  to  be  exempt  from  his  lot  in  the 
world  ?  They  are  his  soldiers,  and  will  they 
refuse  to  follow  him,  and  to  endure  with  him  ? 
Suffer  hardship,  says  the  ajiostle  to  Timothy, 
as  a  good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ.  2  Tim.  ii.  3. 
Will  not  a  word  from  him  [)ut  a  vigor  in  them 
to  go  after  him,  whether  upon  any  march  or 
service,  when  he  calls  them  frieiuls,  Commil- 
itoiies,  as  they  tell  us  was  Julius  C;esar's 
Words  which  wrought  so  much  on  his  train- 
ed bands?    Yea,  He  is  nut  ashamed  to  call 


25S 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  III. 


ihe/n  brethren  (Ileb.  ii.  11),  and  will  they  be 
ashanuul  lo  share  with  hiui,  and  to  he  known 
by  their  suitable  estate,  to  be  his  brethren  ? 

3.  Consider  the  efficacy  of  the  example. 
There  is,  from  these  siiirerin<TS  ol'  Christ,  such 
a  resuh  of  safety  and  comfort  to  a  Cllri^tian, 
as  makes  them  a  most  effectual  ericouraije- 
Vneni  to  sufl'erins,  which  is  tliis  :  if  he  suffer- 
ed onee,  and  that  was  for  si7i,  now  tiiat  heavy, 
intolerable  sufTerinij  for  sin  is  once  taken  out 
of  the  believer's  way,  it  makes  all  other  suf- 
ferings lia^ht,  exceeding  light,  as  nothing  in 
his  account.  He  snfft  rcd  once  for  fiiu  so  that 
to  them  who  lay  hold  on  him  this  holds  sure, 
that  swi  is  never  to  be  suffered  for  in  the  way 
ol  strict  jusiice  again,  as  not  by  him,  so  not 
by  them  who  are  in  him  :  for  He  suffered  for 
sins  once,  and  it  was  for  t/ie/r  sins,  every  poor 
believer's.  So,  now  the  soul,  finding  itself 
rid  of  that  fear,  goes  cheerfully  through  all 
other  hazards  and  sufferings. 

Whereas  the  soul,  perplexed  about  that 
question,  finds  no  relief  in  all  other  enjoy- 
ments ;  all  propositions  of  lower  comforts  are 
unsavory  and  troublesome  to  it.  Tell  it  of 
peace  and  prosperity  ;  say,  however  the  world 
go,  you  shall  have  ease  and  pleasure,  and 
you  shall  be  honored  and  esteemed  by  all ; 
though  you  could  make  a  man  sure  of  these, 
yet  if  his  conscience  be  working  and  stirred 
about  the  matter  of  his  sin,  and  the  wrath  of 
God  which  is  tied  close  to  sin,  he  will  won- 
der at  your  impertinency,  in  that  you  ^peak 
so  far  from  the  purpose.  Say  what  you  will 
of  these,  he  siill  asks.  What  do  you  mean  by 
this?  Those  things  answer  not  to  me.  Do 
you  think  I  can  find  comfort  in  them,  so  long 
as  my  sin  is  unpardoned,  and  there  is  a  sen- 
tence of  eternal  death  standing  above  my 
head?  I  feel  even  an  impress  of  somewhat 
of  that  hot  indignation ;  some  flashes  of  it 
flying  and  lighting  upon  the  face  of  my  soul, 
and  how  can  I  take  pleasure  in  these  feelings 
you  speak  of?  And  though  I  should  be  sense- 
less, and  feel  nothing  of  this  all  my  life,  yet, 
how  soon  shall  I  have  done  with  it,  and  the 
delights  that  reach  no  further.  And  then  to 
have  everlastin<j;  hurmn(;s,  an  eternity  of 
wrath  to  enter  to  !  How  can  I  be  satisfied 
with  that  estate  : — All  you  offer  a  man  in  this 
posture,  is  as  if  you  should  set  dainty  fare, 
and  bring  music  with  it,  before  a  man  lying 
almost  pressed  to  death  under  great  weights, 
and  should  bid  him  eat  and  be  merry,  but  lift 
not  off  his  pressure  :  you  do  but  mock  the 
man  and  add  to  his  misery.  On  the  contrary, 
he  that  ha'.h  got  but  a  view  of  liis  Christ, 
»nd  reads  his  own  pardon  in  Christ's  suffer- 
ings. -:an  rejoice  in  this,  in  the  midst  of  all  j 
olhw  Bafferiiigs,  and  look  on  deaih  without  ap- 
prehension, yea,  with  gladness,  for  the  sting  \ 
t.i  out.  Christ  halh  made  all  pleasant  to  him  \ 
by  this  one  thing,  that  he  suffi  red  once  for  j 
'ins.  Christ  liaih  [)erfumed  the  cross  and  the  j 
grave,  and  made  all  sweet.  The  pardoned  j 
man  iinds  himself  light,  skips  and  leaps,  and, 
through  Christ  strengthening  him,  he  can  | 


encounter  any  trouble.  If  you  think  to  shut 
U])  his  spirit  within  outward  sufferings,  he  is 
now,  as  Samson  in  his  sirenglh.,  able  to  carry 
away  on  his  back  the  gates  with  which  you 
would  enclose  him.  Yea,  he  can  submit  pa- 
tiently to  the  Lord's  hand  in  any  correction  : 
Thou  hast  forgiven  my  sin,  therefore  deal 
with  me  as  thou  wilt  :  all  is  well. 

Refi.  1.  Let  us  learn  to  consider  more  deep- 
ly, and  to  esteem  more  hi<rhly,  Christ  and  his 
suffering,  to  silence  our  grumblingal  our  jjetiy 
ligiit  crosses  :  for  so  they  are,  in  comparison 
of  his.  Will  not  the  great  odds  of  his  per- 
fect innocency,  and  of  the  nature  and  mea- 
sure of  his  sufferings  ;  will  not  the  sense  of 
the  redemption  of  our  souls  from  death  by  his 
death  ;  will  none  of  these,  nor  all  of  liiem, 
argue  us  into  more  thankfulness  and  love  to 
him,  and  patience  in  our  trials  ?  Why  will 
we  then  be  called  Christians  ?  It  is  impossi- 
hie  to  be  fretful  and  malcontent  with  the 
Lord's  dealing  with  us  in  any  kind,  till  first 
we  have  forgotten  how  he  dealt  with  his 
dearest  Son  f'or  our  sakes.  As  St.  Bernard 
speaks,  Enimvero  nons  eniient  sua,  qui  illius 
vulnera  inliientur :  They  truly  feel  not  their 
own  wounds,  who  contem])late  his.  But 
these  things  are  not  weighed  by  the  most. 
We  hear  and  speak  of  them,  but  our  hearts 
receive  not  the  impressions  of  them  ;  there- 
fore we  repine  against  our  Lord  and  Father, 
and  drown  a  hundred  great  blessings  in  any 
little  trouble  that  befalls  us. 

Refl.  2.  Seek  surer  interest  in  Christ  and  his 
suffering,  than  the  most  either  have  attained, 
or  are  aspiring  to  ;  otherwise  all  that  he  suf- 
fered here  will  afford  thee  no  ease  or  comfort 
in  any  kind  of  suffering.  No,  though  thou 
suffer  for  a  good  cause,  even  for  his  cause, 
still  this  will  be  an  extraneous,  foreign  thing 
to  thee,  and  to  tell  thee  of  his  sufferings,  will 
work  no  otherwise  with  thee  than  some  other 
common  story.  And  as  in  the  day  of  peace 
thou  regardest  it  no  more,  so  in  the  day  of  thy 
trouble,  thou  shall  receive  no  more  comfort 
from  it.  Other  things  M'hich  yoo  esteem- 
ed, shall  have  no  comfort  lo  speak  to  you  : 
though  you  pursue  them  with  leords  (as  Solo- 
mon says  of  the  poor  man's  friends,  Prov.  xix. 
7),  yet  they  shall  he  wanting  lo  you.  And 
then  you  will  surely  find  how  happy  it  were 
to  have  this  to  turn  you  to,  that  the  Lord 
Jesus  suffered  for  sins,  and  for  your  sins,  and 
therefore  hath  made  it  a  light  and  comforta- 
ble l)usiness  to  you,  to  undergo  momentary 
passing  suflferings. 

Days  of  trial  will  come  ;  do  you  not  see 
they  are  on  us  already  ?  Be  persuaded,  there- 
fore, to  turn  your  eyes  and  desires  more  toward 
Christ.  This  is  the  thing  we  would  still  press: 
the  support  and  happiness  of  your  souls  lie  on 
it.  But  you  will  not  believe  it.  Oh,  that  you 
knew  the  comforts  and  sweetness  of  Christ ! 
Oh,  that  one  would  s|)eak,  who  knew  more 
of  them  I  Were  you  once  but  entered  into 
this  knowieage  of  hi;"  and  the  virtue  of  his 
sufferings,  you  would  account  all  your  days 


Vei.  18.1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


but  lost  wherein  you  have  not  known  him  ; 
and  in  a  1  times,  your  hearts  would  find  no  re- 
freshment like  to  the  remembrance  of  his  love. 

Having  somewhat  considered  these  suffer- 
ings, as  the  apostle's  argument  for  his  present 
purpose,  we  come  now, 

II.  To  take  a  nearer  view  of  the  particulars 
by  which  he  illustrates  them,  as  the  main 
point  of  our  faith  and  comfori.  Of  them,  here 
are  two  things  to  be  remarked,  their  cause 
and  their  kind. 

First.  Their  cause  ;  both  their  meritorious 
cause  and  their  final  cause  ;  first,  what  in  us 
procured  these  sufferings  unto  Christ,  and 
secondly,  what  those  his  sufferings  procured 
unto  us.  Our  guiltiness  brought  suffering  upon 
him  ;  and  his  suffering  brings  us  unto  God. 

1st.  For  the  meritorious  cause,  what  in  us 
brought  sufferings  on  Christ.  The  evil  of 
sin  hath  the  evil  of  punishment  inseparably 
connected  with  it.  We  are  under  a  natural 
obligation  of  obedience  unto  Grod,  and  he  just- 
ly urges  it ;  so  that  where  the  command  of 
his  law  is  broken,  the  curse  of  it  presently  1 
followeth.  And  though  it  was  simply  in  the 
power  of  the  supreme  lawgiver  to  have  dis- 
pensed with  the  infliction,  yet,  having  in  his 
wisdom  purposed  to  be  known  a  just  God  in 
that  way,  following  forth  the  tenor  of  his  law, 
of  necessity  there  must  be  a  suffering  for  sin. 

Thus,  the  angels  who  keep  noi  their  station, 
falling  from  ii,  fell  into  a  dungeon,  where 
they  are,  under  chains  of  darkness,  reserved 
to  the  judi'ment  of  the  great  day.  Judc  6. 
Man  also  fell  under  the  sentence  of  death,  but 
in  this  is  the  difference  between  man  and 
them  :  they  were  not  one  of  them,  as  the 
parent  or  common  root  of  the  rest,  but  each 
one  fell  or  stood  for  himself  alone,  so  a  part 
of  them  only  perished  ;  but  man  fell  altogeth- 
er, so  that  not  one  of  all  the  race  could  escape 
condemnation,  unless  some  other  way  of 
satisfaction  be  found  out.  And  here  it  is: 
Christ  suffered  for  sins,  the  just  for  the  un- 
just. Father,  says  he,  I  have  i>hirified  thee 
on  earth.  John  xvii.  3.  In  this  plot,  indeed, 
do  all  the  divine  attribute'  shine  in  their  full 
lustre:  infinite  mercy,  ana  immense  justice, 
and  power,  and  wisdom.  Looking  ori  Christ 
as  ordained  for  that  purpose,  /  have  found  a 
ransom,  says  the  Father,  one  fit  to  redeem 
man,  a  kinsman,  one  of  that  very  same  stock, 
the  Son  of  Man  :  one  able  to  redeem  man  by 
satisfying  me,  and  fulfilling  all  I  lay  upon 
htm  ;  M}/  son,  my  onli/  begotten  Son,  in  whom 
my  soul  delights.  And  he  is  willing,  under- 
takes, all,  says,  Lo,  I  come.  Psalm  xl.  7  :  We 
ire  agreed  upon  the  way  of  this  redemption  ; 
yea,  upon  the  persons  to  be  redeemed.  It  is 
not  a  roving  blind  bargain,  a  price  paid  for 
we  know  not  whom.  Hear  his  own  words  : 
Thou  hast  given  the  Son  (says  the  Son  to  the 
Father)  power  over  all  flesh,  that  he  should 
give  eternal  life  lo  as  many  as  Thou  hast  given 
hiin  ;  and  all  mine  are  thine,  and  thine  are 
mine,  and  I  am  glorified  in  them.  John  xvii. 
2,  10. 


I  For  the  sins  of  these  he  suffered,  standing 
I  in  their  room  ;  and  what  he  did  and  suffered 
\  according  to  the  law  of  that  covenant,  was 
done  and  suffeied  by  them.  All  the  sins  of 
all  the  elect  were  made  up  into  a  huge  bun- 
dle, and  bound  upon  his  shoulders.  So  the 
prophet  speaks  in  their  name  :  Surely  he  hath 
borne  our  griefs,  and  carried  our  sorrows  : 
and,  The  Lord  laid  [or  made  to  meet]  on  him 
tke  iniquity  of  us  all.  Isa.  liii.  5.  He  had 
spoken  of  many  ways  of  sin,  and  said.  We 
have  turned  every  one  to  his  own  way  ;  here 
he  binds  up  all  in  the  word  iniquity,  as  all 
one  sin,  as  if  it  were  that  one  transgression 
of  the  first  Adam,  that  brought  on  the  curse 
of  his  seed,  borne  by  the  second  Adam,  to 
take  it  away  from  all  that  are  his  seed,  who 
are  in  him  as  their  root. 

He  is  the  great  High  Priest  appearing  be- 
fore God  with  the  names  of  the  elect  upon 
his  shoulders,  and  in  his  heart  bearing  them 
and  all  their  burdens,  and  oft'ering  for  thern, 
not  any  other  sacrifice  than  himself ;  charging 
all  their  sin  on  himself,  as  the  priest  did  the 
sins  of  the  people  on  the  head  of  the  sacrifice. 
He,  by  the  Eternal  Spirit,  says  the  apostle, 
offered  up  himself  without  spot  unto  God, 
spot/ess  and  sinless,  Heb.  ix.  14 :  and  so  he 
alone  is  fit  to  take  away  our  sin,  being  a  satis- 
factory oblation  for  it.  He  suffered  :  in  him 
was  our  ransom,  and  thus  it  was  paid.  In 
the  man,  Christ,  was  the  Deity,  and  so  his 
blood  was,  as  the  apostle  calls  it,  the  blood 
of  God,  Acts  XX.  28  :  and  he  being  pierced, 
it  came  forth,  and  was  told  down  as  the  rich 
price  of  our  redemption.  Not  silver,  nor 
gold,  nor  corruptible  things,  a=  our  apostle 
hath  it  before,  biit  the  precious  blood  of 
Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without  blemish. 

Obs.  1.  Shall  any  man  offer  to  bear  the 
name  of  a  Christian,  who  pleases  himself  in 
the  way  of  ^in,  and  can  delight  and  sport 
himself  with  it,  when  he  consicltTs  this,  that 
Christ  suffered  for  sin  ?  Do  not  think  it,  you 
who  still  account  sin  sweet,  which  he  found 
so  bitter,  and  account  that  light,  which  was 
so  heavy  to  him,  and  made  his  soul  heavy  to 
the  death.  You  are  yet  far  off  from  him.  If 
you  were  in  him,  and  one  with  him,  there 
would  be  some  liarmony  of  your  hearts  with 
his,  and  some  sympathy  with  those  suffer- 
ings, as  endured  by  your  Lord,  your  Head, 
and  for  you.  'f  hey  who,  with  a  right  view, 
see  him  as  pierced  by  their  sins,  that  sight 
pierces  thern,  and  makes  them  mourn,  brings 
forth  tears,  beholding  the  gushing  forth  of 
his  blood.  This  makes  the  real  Christian 
an  avowed  enemy  lo  sin.  Shall  I  ever  be 
friends  with  that,  says  he,  which  killed  my 
Lord  ?  No,  but  I  will  ever  kill  it,  and  do  it 
by  applying  his  death.  The  true  penitent 
is  sworn  to  bo  the  death  of  sin  :  he  may  be 
surprised  by  it,  i;ui  there  is  no  possibility  of 
recncilement  betwixt  them. 

Thou  that  livesi  kindly  and  familiarly  with 
sin,  and  either  openly  declarest  thyself  for  it, 
or  hast  a  secret  love  for  it,  where  canst  thou 


360 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chai.  in 


reap  any  comfort?  Not  from  these  suffer- 
ings. To  thee,  coiuinuinti;  in  that  jMisture,  it 
IS  all  oae  as  if  Ciirisi  had  not  sutlVred  for 
sins;  yea,  it  is  worse  than  if  no  such  thing 
had  been,  that  there  is  salvation,  and  terms 
of  mercy  olfered  unto  thee,  and  yet  thou  per- 
ishest  ;  that  there  is  Iml/n  in  Gihail,  and  yet 
thou  art  not  liealed.  And  if  thou  hast  not 
comfort  from  Jesus  crucified,  I  know  not 
whence  thou  canst  have  any  that  will  hold 
out.  Look  about  thee,  tell  me  what  thou 
seest,  either  in  thy  possession  or  in  thy  hopes, 
that  thou  esteemest  most,  and  layest  thy  con- 
fidence on.  Or,  to  deal  more  liberally  with 
thee,  see  what  estate  thou  wouldst  choose, 
hadst  thou  thy  wish  :  stretch  thy  foncy  to 
devise  an  earthly  happiness.  These  times 
are  full  of  unquietncss  ;  but  give  thee  a  time 
of  the  calmest  peace,  not  an  air  of  trouble 
stirring  ;  put  thee  where  thou  wilt,  far  olf 
from  fear  of  sword  and  pestilence,  and  en- 
compass thee  with  children,  friends,  and  pos- 
sessions, and  honors,  and  comfort,  and  health 
to  enjoy  all  these  ;  yet  one  thing  tliou  must 
admit  in  the  midst  of  them  all  ;  within  a 
while  thou  must  die,  and  having  no  real 
portion  in  Christ,  but  only  a  deluding  dream 
of  it,  thou  sinkest  through  that  death  into 
another  death  far  more  terrible.  Of  all  thou 
enjoyesi,  nothing  goes  along  with  thee  but 
unpardoned  sin,  and  that  delivers  thee  up  to 
endless  sorrow.  Oh  thai  you  were  wise,  and 
would  consider  your  latter  end  !  Do  not  still 
gaze  about  you  upon  trifles,  but  yet  be  en- 
treated to  take  notice  of  your  Savior,  and  re- 
ceive him,  that  he  may  be  yours.  Fasten 
your  belief  and  your  love  on  him.  Give  all 
yuur  heart  to  him,  who  stuck  not  to  give 
himself  an  offering  for  your  sins. 

Obs.  2.  To  you  who  have  fled  unto  him 
for  refuge,  if  sensible  of  the  church's  dis- 
tress, be  upheld  with  this  thought,  that  he 
who  suflered  for  it,  will  not  suffer  it  to  be 
undone.  All  the  rage  of  enemies,  yea,  the 
gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it. 
He  may,  for  a  time,  suffer  the  church  to  be 
brought  low  for  the  sins  of  his  people,  and 
other  wise  reasons,  but  he  will  not  utterly 
forsake  it.  Though  there  is  much  chafi',  yet 
he  hath  a  precious  number  in  these  king- 
doms, for  whom  he  shed  his  blood :  many 
God  hath  calle'l,  and  many  he  has  yet  to  call ; 
he  will  not  los."  any  of  his  flock  which  he 
bought  so  dear  (Acts  xx.  28),  and  for  their 
sake  he  will,  at  one  time  or  another,  repair 
our  breaches,^  and  establisii  his  throne  in 
these  kingdoms.  For  vourselves,  what  can 
affright  you  while  this  is  in  your  eye?  Let 
others  tremble  at  the  apprehension  of  sword 
or  i)estilence  ;  but  surely,  you  have  for  them 
and  all  other  hazards,  a  most  satisfying  an-  ' 
svver  in  this:  my  Christ  hath  suffered  for 
sin  :  I  am  not  to  fear  that :  and  that  set  aside, 
I  know  the  worsi  is  but  death — I  am  wrong  ; 
truly,  that  is  the  best:  to  be  dissolved,  and 
hr  with  Christ,  is  l'ri^^-:>  ^aUoi.  n/i'iirr .f]  much 
more  better.  Phil.  i.  23.    S'^  /iting  justified 


by  faith,  believers  have  peace  with  God,  and 
rejoice  in  hope  of'  Uie  glory  of  God,  glorij'y- 
ing  even  in  tribulations.    Rom.  v.  1-3. 

Tills  were  a  happy  estate  indeed.  But 
what  shall  they  think  who  have  no  assur- 
ance,  they  who  doubt  that  Christ  is  theirs, 
and  that  he  suffered  for  their  sins  ?  I  know 
no  way  but  to  believe  on  him,  and  then  you 
shall  know  that  he  is  yours.  From  this  ari- 
ses the  grand  mistake  of  many  :  they  would 
first  know  that  Christ  is  theirs,  and  then 
would  believe ;  which  can  not  be,  because 
he  becomes  ours  by  believing.  It  is  that 
which  gives  title  and  propriety  to  him.  He 
is  set  before  sinners  as  a  Savior  who  hath 
suflered  for  sin  that  they  may  look  to  hi  in 
and  be  saved  ;  that  they  may  lay  over  their 
souls  on  him,  and  then  they  may  be  assured 
he  suffered  for  them. 

Say,  then,  what  is  it  that  scares  thee  from 
Christ?  This,  thou  seest,  is  a  poor  ground- 
less exception,  for  he  is  set  before  thee  as  a 
Savior  to  believe  on,  that  so  he  may  be  thy 
Savior.  Why  wilt  thou  not  come  unto  him  ? 
Why  refusest  thou  to  believe?  Art  thou  a 
sinner?  Art  thou  unjust?  Then,  he  is  fit 
for  thy  case  :  he  suffered  for  sins,  the  just 
for  the  unjust.  Oh  !  but  so  many  and  so 
great  sins !  Yea,  is  that  it?  It  is  true  in- 
deed, and  good  reason  thou  hast  to  think  so  ; 
but  1st,  Consider  whether  they  be  excepted 
in  the  proclamation  of  Christ,  the  pnrdon 
that  comes  in  his  name:  if  not,  if  he  make 
no  exception,  why  wilt  thou  ?  2dly,  Con- 
sider if  thou  wilt  call  them  greater  than  this 
sacrifice,  he  suffered.  Take  due  notice  of 
the  greatness  and  worth,  first,  of  his  person, 
and  then,  of  his  sufferings,  and  thou  wilt  not 
dare  to  say  thy  sin  goes  above  the  value  of 
his  suffering,  or  that  thou  art  too  unjust 
for  him  to  justify  thee.  Be  as  unrighteous 
as  thou  canst  be,  art  thou  convinced  of  it  ? 
then,  know  that  Jesus  the  just  is  more  righ- 
teous than  thy  unrighteousness.  And,  after 
all  is  said  that  any  sinner  hath  to  say,  they 
are  yet,  without  exception,  blessed  wbo  trust 
in  him.    Psalm  ii.  ult. 

2dly.  We  have  the  final  cau^e  of  his  suf- 
ferings, That  he  ynighl  bring  us  to  God.]  It 
is  the  chief  point  of  wisdom,  to  proportion 
means  to  their  end:  therefore,  the  all-wise 
God,  in  putting  his  only  Son  to  so  hard  a 
task,  had  a  high  end  in  this,  and  this  was  it. 
That  he  might  bring  us  unto  God.  In  this  we 
havethree  things,  1st,  The  nature  ofthisgood, 
nearness  unto  God.  2dly,  Our  deprivement 
of  it,  by  our  own  sin.  2dly,  Our  restoration 
to  it,  by  Christ's  sufferings. 

fL]  The  nature  of  this  good.  God  hath 
suited  every  creature  he  hath  made,  with  a 
convenient  good  to  which  it  tends,  and  in  the 
obtainment  of  which  it  rests  and  is  satisfied. 
Natural  bodies  have  all  iheir  own  natural 
place,  whither,  if  not  hindered,  they  move 
incessantly  till  they  be  in  it ;  and  tfiev  de- 
clare, by  resting  there,  that  they  are  (as  1 
may  say)  where  they  would  be.  Sensitive 


» -tR.  :8.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


261 


creatures  are  carried  to  seek  a  sensitive  good^ 
as  agreeable  to  their  rank  in  being,  and,  at- 
taining that,  aim  no  furiher.  Now,  in  this  is 
the  excellency  of  man,  that  he  is  made  capa- 
ble ol'a  communion  with  his  Maker,  and,  be- 
cause capable  of  it,  is  unsatisfied  without  it : 
the  soul  being  cut  out,  so  to  speak,  to  that 
largeness,  can  not  be  filled  with  less.  Thous^h 
he  is  fallen  from  his  righi  to  that  good,  and 
from  all  right  desire  of  it,  yet,  not  from  a  ca- 
pacity of  it,  no,  nor  from  a  necessity  of  it,  for 
the  answering  and  filling  of  his  capacity. 

Though  the  heart  once  gone  from  God, 
turns  continually  further  away  from  him, 
and  moves  not  toward  him  till  it  be  renew- 
ed, yet  even  in  that  wandering,  it  reiains 
that  natural  relation  to  God,  as  its  centre, 
that  it  hath  no  true  rest  elsewhere,  nor  can 
by  any  means  find  it.  It  is  made  for  him, 
and  is  therefore  still  restless  till  it  meet  with 
hirn. 

It  is  true,  the  natural  man  takes  much 
pains  to  quiet  his  heart  by  other  things,  and 
digests  many  vexations  with  hopes  of  con- 
tentment in  the  end  and  accomplishment  of 
some  design  he  hath  ;  but  still  the  heart  mis- 
gives. Many  times  he  attains  not  the  thing 
he  seeks  :  but  if  he  do,  yet  he  never  attains 
the  satisfaction  he  seeks  and  expects  in  it ; 
but  only  learns  from  that  to  desire  something 
further,  and  still  hums  on  after  a  fancy,  drives 
his  own  shadow  before  liim,  and  never  over- 
takes it ;  and  if  he  did,  yet  it  is  but  a  shadow. 
And  so  in  running  from  God,  besides  the  sad 
end,  he  carries  an  interwoven  punishment 
with  his  sin,  the  naiural  disquiet  and  vexa- 
tion of  his  spirit,  fluttering  to  and  fro,  and 
finding  no  rest  for  the  soul  o  f  his  fool  ;  the 
waters  of  inconstancy  and  WAmiy  covering  the 
whole  face  of  the  earth. 

We  study  to  debase  our  souls,  and  to  make 
them  content  with  less  than  they  are  tnade 
for;  yea,  we  strive  lomake  liiem  carnal,  that 
they  may  be  pleased  with  sensible  thinirs. 
And  in  this,  men  attain  a  brutish  conient  for 
^  time,  forgetting  their  higher  good.  But 
certainly,  we  can  not  think  it  sufncieiit,  and 
that  no  more  were  to  be  desired  beyond  ease 
and  plenty,  and  pleasures  of  sense,  for  then, 
a  beast  in  good  case  and  a  ^w'd  i)asture, 
might  contest  wiih  us  in  point  of  happiness, 
and  cany  it  away  ;  for  that  sensitive  good  he 
enjoys  without  sin,  and  without  the  vexation 
that  is  mixed  with  us  in  all. 

These  things  are  too  gross  and  heavy.  The 
soul,  the  imriiortal  soul,  descended  from  heav- 
en, must  either  be  more  happy,  or  remain 
miserable.  The  highest,  the  Increaled  Spirit, 
is  the  proper  ffood,  thr  Father  of  spirits,  that 
pure  and  full  good  which  raises  the  soul 
above  itself:  whereas  all  oiher  things  draw 
it  down  below  itself  So,  ihen,  it  is  never 
well  with  the  soul,  but  wh(;n  it  is  near  unio 
God,  yea,  in  its  union  with  him,  married  to 
liim  ;  rriisrnaiching  iiself  elsewhere,  it  hath 
never  anything  but  shame  and  sorrow.  A// 
that  forsake  thee  shall  be  ashamed,  says  the 


prophet,  Jer.  xvii.  13  ;  and  the  psalmist,  They 
that  are  afar  off  from  thee  shall  perish,  Fsal. 
Ixxiii.  27.  And  this  is  indeed  our  natural 
miserable  condition,  and  it  is  often  expressed 
this  way,  by  estrangedness  and  distance  Iron. 
God.  See  Eph.  ii.,  where  the  Gentiles  are 
spoken  of  as  far  off  by  their  profession  and 
nation,  but  both  Jcavs  and  Gentiles  are  far  off 
by  their  natural  I'oundation,  and  both  are 
brought  near  by  the  blood  of  the  New  Cove- 
nant. 

[2.]  And  this  is  the  second  thing  here  im- 
plied, that  we  are  far  off  hy  reason  of  sin  ; 
otherwise  there  were  no  need  of  Christ,  espe- 
cially in  this  way  of  suffering  for  sin,  to  bring 
us  unto  God.  At  the  first,  sin,  as  ihe  breach 
of  God's  command,  broke  off  man,  and  sepa- 
rated him  from  God,  and  ever  since  the  soul 
remains  naturally  remote  from  God.  1.  It 
lies  under  a  sentence  of  exile,  pronounced  by 
the  justice  of  God  ;  condemned  to  banishment 
from  God,  who  is  the  life  and  light  of  the 
soul,  as  the  soul  itself  is  of  the  body.  2.  It 
is  under  a  flat  impossibility  of  returning  bv 
iiself;  and  that  in  two  respects;  first,  be- 
cause of  the  guiltiness  of  sin  standing  be- 
tween, as  an  unpassable  mountain  or  wall  of 
separation  :  secondly,  because  of  the  domin- 
ion of  sin  keeping  the  soul  captive,  yea,  still 
drawing  it  farther  off  from  God,  increasing 
the  distance  and  the  enmity  every  day.  Nor 
is  there  either  in  heaven  or  under  heaven, 
any  way  to  remove  this  enmity,  and  make  up 
this  distance,  and  restore  man  to  the  jkjsscs- 
sion  of  God,  but  this  one,  by  Christ,  and  by 
him  suffering  for  sins. 

[3.]  Our  restoration  to  nearness  to  God  is 
by  Christ's  sufferings.  He  endured  the  sen- 
tence pronounced  against  man,  yea,  even  in 
ibis  particular  notion  of  it,  as  a  sentence 
of  exile  from  God  :  one  main  ingredient  in 
his  suffering  was  that  sensible  desertion  by 
his  heavenly  Father,  of  which  he  cried  out, 
My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken 
me  ?  And,  by  suffering  the  sentence  pro- 
nounced, he  took  away  the  guiltiness  of  sin, 
he  himself  being  spotless  and  undefiled.  For 
suck  a  high  priest  hecarne  us,  Heb.  vii.  26: 
the  more  defiled  we  were,  the  more  did  we 
stand  in  need  of  an  undefiled  priest  and  sacri- 
fice :  and  he  was  both.  Theref  ire  the  apos- 
tle here  very  filly  mentions  this  qualification 
of  our  Savior,  as  necessary  for  restoring  us 
unto  God,  Ihe  just  for  the  unjust.  So  taking 
on  himself,  and  taking  away,  the  guilt  of 
sin.  setting  his  strong  shoulder  to  remove  that 
mountain,  he  made  way  or  access  for  man 
unto  God. 

This  the  apostle  hath  excellently  express- 
ed, Kph.  ii.  lie  hath  rec.onr.ilrd  us  hi/  his 
cross,  havins  .''lain  the  enmity :  He  killed  the 
quarrel  between  (Jod  and  us,  killed  it  by  his 
death  ;  brin^-s  the  parlies  together,  and  hath 
laid  a  sure  foundation  of  agreement  in  his  own 
sulferiiigs  :  appeases  his  f-'ather's  wrath  by 
ilx'tri,  and  by  the  same,  ajipeases  the  sinner's 
conscience.    All  that  God  hath  to  say  ia 


263 


A  COMMENTARY  JPON  THE 


[Cha»  Til 


point  of  lUPtice,  is  answciod  ihcrc  ;  all  that 
the  ()oor  liuinbk'tl  siiiiuT  liaili  to  say,  is  an- 
swered too.  He  Ir.uh  oileri  d  up  such  an 
atonement  as  sati.'-lits  the  I'aiher,  so  lliat  he 
is  content  tliat  sinners  should  come  in  and  be 
reconciled.  And  then,  Chri>t  gives  iioiice  of 
thi.s  to  the  soul,  to  remove  all  jealousies.  It 
is  full  of  fear:  thouah  it  woukl,  it  dares  not 
approach  unto  God,  appreliendinif  him  to  be 
a  consuming  fire.  They  who  have  done  the 
offence  are  usually  the  hardest  to  reconcile, 
because  they  are  still  in  douhl  of  their  par- 
don. But  Christ  assures  the  soul  of  a  full 
and  hearty  forgiveness,  quenching  the  fla- 
ming wraih  of  God  by  his  blood.  No,  says 
Christ,  upon  my  warrant  come  in  ;  you  will 
now  liiid  my  Father  otherwise  than  you  im- 
agine :  he  hath  declared  liimself  satisfied  at 
niy  hands,  and  is  willinij  to  receive  you,  to 
be  heartily  and  thoroughly  friends  :  never  to 
hear  a  word  more  of  the  quarrel  that  was  be- 
tween you  ;  to  grant  a  lull  oblivion.  And  if 
the  suul  bear  back  still  through  distrust,  he 
takes  it  by  the  hand,  and  draws  it  forward, 
leads  it  unto  his  Father  (as  the  word  nnounya  n 
imports)  ;  presents  it  to  him,  and  leaves  not 
the  matter  till  it  be  made  a  lull  and  sure 
agreement. 

But  for  this  j)urpose,  that  the  soul  may  he 
both  able  and  williiig  to  come  unto  God,  the 
sufi'erings  of  Christ  take  away  that  other  im- 
pediment. As  they  satisfy  tlie  sentence,  and 
thereby  remove  the  guiltiness  of  sin,  so  he 
hath  by  them  purchased  a  deliverance  from 
the  tyrannous  jiowrr  of  sin,  which  detains  the 
Soul  from  God,  after  all  the  way  has  been 
made  for  its  return.  And  he  hath  a  power 
of  applying  his  sufferings  to  the  soul's  de- 
liverance, in  that  kind  too.  Jle  o|)ens  the 
prison-doors  to  them  who  are  led  captire  ; 
and  because  the  great  chain  is  upon  the  heart 
willingly  enthralled  in  sin,  he,  by  his  sover- 
eign power,  takes  off  that,  frees  the  heart 
from  the  love  of  sin,  and  shows  what  a  base 
slavish  condition  it  is  in,  by  representing,  in 
his  effectual  way,  the  goodness  of  Goil,  his 
readiness  to  entertain  a  returning  sinner,  and 
the  sweetness  and  happiness  of  communion 
with  him.  Thus  he  powerfully  persuades  ihe 
heart  to  shake  off  all,  and,  without  further 
delay,  to  return  unto  God,  so  as  to  be  received 
into  favor  and  friendship,  and  to  walk  in  the 
way  of  friendship  with  God,  to  give  up  itself 
to  his  obedience,  to  disdain  the  vile  service 
of  sin,  and  live  suitablv  to  the  dignity  of  fel- 
lowship and  union  with  God. 

And  there  is  nothing  bu!  the  power  of  Christ 
alone  that  is  able  to  effect  this,  to  persuade  a 
Binner  to  return,  to  bring  home  a  lieart  unto 
God.  Conmion  mercies  of  God,  thoiiL''h  ihey 
have  a  leading  faculty  to  repentance  (Rom. 
ii.  4),  yet  the  rebellious  heart  will  not  be  led 
by  them.  The  judirnienis  ol'  (iod,  public  or 
personal,  though  they  ought  to  drive  us  to 
God,  yet  the  heari,  unchanged,  runs  the  fur- 
ther from  God.  Do  we  not  see  it  by  ourselves 
•.nd  other  siimers  about  us?    They  look  not 


at  all  toward  him  who  smites,  much  less  do 
they  return  ;  or  if  any  more  serious  thoughts 
of  returning  arise  upon  the  surprise  of  an  af 
I  fliction,  how  soon  vanish  they,  either  the 
stroke  abating,  or  the  heart,  by  time,  growing 
hard  and  senseless  under  it  I    Indeed,  when 
it  is  renewed  and  bn.ughl  in  by  Christ,  then 
all  other  things  have  a  sanctified  influence, 
according  to  their  (]uality,  to  stir  up  a  Cliris- 
j  lian  to  seek  after  fuller  communion,  closer 
I  walk,  and  nearer  access  to  God.    But  leave 
j  Christ  out,  I  say,  and  all  other  means  work 
I  not  this  way  :  neither  the  works  nor  the  word 
I  of  God  sounding  daily  in  his  ear,  Retvrn,  re- 
turn.   Let  the  noise  of  the  rod  speak  it  too, 
and  both  join  together  to  make  the  cry  the 
louder,  i/et  the  wicheil  u-ill  do  wickedhj,  Dan. 
xii.  10  ;  will  not  hearken  lo  the  voice  of  God, 
j  will  not  see  the  hand  of  God  lifted  up,  Isaiah 
xxvi.  11  ;  will  not  be  persuaded  to  go  in  and 
seek    peace  and  reconcilement  with  God, 
though  declaring  himself  provoked  to  punish, 
and  to  behave  himself  as  an  enemy  against 
his  own  people.    How  many  are  there,  who, 
in  their  own  particular,  have  been  very  sharp, 
ly  lashed  with  divers  scourges  on  their  bodies, 
or  iheir  families,  and  yet  are  never  a  whit  the 
nearer  God  for  it  all,  their  hearts  are  proud, 
'and  earthly,  and  vain,  as  ever!  and  let  him 
1  lay  on  never  so  much,  they  will  still  be  the 
1  same.  Only  a  Divine  virtue,  going  forth  from 
,  Christ  lifted  up,  draus  men  unto  him  ;  and, 
beinu  cmne  unto  him,  he  brings  them  unto 
the  Father. 

t     Refection  \.  You  who  are  still  strangers  to 
God,  who  declare  yourselves  to  be  so,  by  liv- 
ing as  strangers  far  off  from  him,  do  not  still 
continue  to  abuse  yourselves  so  grossly.  Can 
you  think  any  consolation  yours  that  arises 
from  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  while  it  is  so 
evident  they  have  not  gained  their  end  upon 
I  you,  have  not  brought  you  to  God  ?  Truly, 
}  most  of  you  seem  to  think  that  our  Lord  Je- 
I  sus  sulfered  raiher  to  the  end  we  might  neg 
lect  God,  and  disobey  him  securely,  than  to 
j  restore  us  to  him.    Hath  he  purchased  you  a 
!  liberty  to  sin  ?   Or  is  it  not  deliverance  from 
sin,  which  alone  is  true  liberty,  the  thing  he 
aimed  at,  and  agreed  for,  and  laid  down  his 
life  for  ? 

2.  Why  let  we  his  blood  still  run  in  vain  as 
to  us  ?  He  hath  by  it  opened  up  our  uay  lo 
God,  and  yet  we  refuse  to  make  use  of  it ! 
Oh  how  few  come  in  !  Those  who  are 
brourrhi  unto  God,  and  received  into  friend- 
ship with  him,  entertain  that  friendship,  they 
delight  in  his  company,  love  to  be  much  with 
him  :  is  it  so  with  us  ?  By  being  so  near,  they 
become  like  unto  him,  know  his  will  better 

!  every  day,  and  grow  more  confnrmable  to  it. 
But,  alas !  in  the  most,  there  is  nothing  of 
this. 

3.  But  even  they  who  are  brought  unto  God 
may  be  faulty  in  this,  in  part,  not  applying  so 

'  sweet  a  privilege.    They  can  comply  and  be 
too  friendly  with  the  vain  world,  can  pass 
,  many  days  without  a  lively  communion  w^'tU 


Veb.  18.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


263 


God,  not  aspiring-  to  the  increase  of  that,  as 
the  thing  our  Lord  hath  purchased  lor  us,  and 
that  wherein  all  our  happiness  and  welfare 
lie,  lere  and  hereafter.  Your  hearts  are 
cleax  ing- to  folly  ;  you  are  not  delighting  your- 
selves in  the  Lord,  not  refreshed  with  this 
nearness  to  him,  and  union  with  him  ;  your 
thoughis  are  not  often  on  it,  nor  is  it  your 
study  to  walk  conformably  to  it:  ceriainly  it 
ought  to  be  thus,  and  you  should  be  per- 
suaded to  endeavor  that  it  may  be  thus  with 
foa. 

4.  Remember  this  for  your  comfort,  that  as 
yotj  are  brought  unto  God  by  Jesus  Christ,  so 
you  are  kept  in  that  union  by  him.  It  is  a 
firmer  knot  than  the  first  was;  there  is  no 
power  of  hell  can  dissolve  it.  He  suffered 
once  to  bring  us  once  unto  God,  never  to  de- 
part again.  As  he  suffered  once  for  all,  so 
we  are  brought  once  for  all.  We  may  be 
sensibly  nearer  at  one  time  than  at  another, 
but  yet  we  can  never  be  separate  or  cut  off, 
being  once  knit  by  Christ,  as  ihe  bond  of  our 
union.  Neither  principalities,  nor  jiower.i, 
(&c.)  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  lone 
of  God,  because  it  holds  m  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord.  Rom.  viii.  37,  38. 

Secondly,  as  to  the  kind  of  our  Lord's  suf- 
ferings :  BeirifT  put  to'  death  in  the  flesh,  but 
quickened  by  the  Spirit.]  The  true  life  of  a 
Christian,  is,  lo  eye  Christ  in  every  step  of 
his  ife,  both  as  his  rule,  and  as  his  strenicth  ; 
lool  ing  to  him  as  his  pattern  :  boih  in  doing 
and  suffering,  and  drawing  power  from  him 
for  t'oing  through  both  ;  for  the  look  of  faith 
doth  thai,  fetches  life  from  Jesus  lo  enable  it 
for  all,  being  without  him  able  for  nothing. 
Therefore  the  apostle  doth  still  set  thisbefjre 
his  brethren  :  and  having  mentioned  Christ's 
sufferings  in  general,  the  condition  and  end 
of  it,  he  here  specifies  the  particular  kind  of 
il,  that  which  was  the  utmost  point,  put  In 
death  in  the  flesh,  and  then  adds  this  issue 
out  of  it,  (/vickened  by  the  Spirit. 

Thi  is  at  once  the  strongest  engagement, 
and  the  strongest  encouraijement.  Was  he, 
our  H«ad,  crowned  with  thorns,  and  shall  the 
body  look  i'uT  garlands  ?  Are  we  redeemed 
from  hell  and  condemnation  by  him,  and  can 
any  such  refuse  any  service  he  calls  them  to  ? 
They  who  are  mashed  m  the  Larnh''s  blood, 
vf~  ''  follow  him  irliithersoever  he  i^nes  (Rev. 
xiv.  4)  :  and,  following  him  throuijh,  ihey 
shall  find  their  Journey's  end  overpav  all  the 
troubles  and  sufferings  of  the  way.  These  are 
they,  said  the  elder  who  apfieared  in  vision  to 
John,  who  came  nut  of  <>reat  tribulation  :  trib- 
ulation and  great  tribulation,  yet  thev  came 
out  of  it,  and  gloriously  too,  arrayed  in  lom^ 
white  rnbes  !  The  scarlet  strumpet  (as  fol- 
lows in  that  book)  died  her  garments  red  in 
the  blood  of  the  saints  ;  but  this  is  their 
happiress,  that  their  srnrments  are  irashed 
while  III  the  Hood  of  the  Lamb.  Revelations 
vii.  J  4. 

Once  .ake  away  sin,  and  all  suffering  is 
light.    Now,  that  is  done  by  this,  His  once 


1  suffering  for  sin  :  those  who  are  in  aim  shall 
hear  no  more  of  that  as  condemning  them, 
binding  over  to  suffer  that  wrath  which  is  due 
to  sin.  Now,  this  puts  an  invincible  strength 
into  the  soul  for  enduring  all  other  things,  how 

t  hard  soever. 

Put  to  death.]  This  is  the  utmost  point, 
and  that  which  men  are  most  startled  at,  to 
die  :  and  a  violent  death,  put  to  death  ;  and 
yet,  he  hath  led  in  this  way,  who  ts  the  Cap- 
tain of  our  salvation.    In  the  flesh.  Under 

j  this  second  phrase,  his  human  nature,  and  his 
divine  nature  and  power,  are  distinguished. 
Put  to  death  in  the  flesh,  is  a  very  fit  expres- 
sion, not  only  (as  is  usual)  taking  the  flesh  for 

'  the  whole  manhood,  but  because  death  is  most 
properly  spoken  of  that  very  person,  or  his 
flesh.  The  whole  man  suffers  death,  a  dis- 
solution, or  taking  to  pieces,  and  the  soul  suf- 
fers a  separation,  or  dislodging  :  but  death,  or 
the  privation  of  live  and  sense,  belongs  par- 
ticularly to  the  flesh  or  body.  But  the  Spirit, 
here  ojipijsed  to  the  flesh  or  body,  is  certainly 
(jf  a  higher  nature  and  power  than  is  the  hu- 
man soul,  which  can  not  of  itself  return  or  re- 
inhabit  and  quicken  the  body. 

j     Put  to  death.]    His  death  was  both  volun- 

!  tary  and  violent.  That  same  power  which 
restored  his  life,  could  have  kept  it  exempted 
from  death  ;  but  the  design  was  for  death. 
He  therefore  look  our  flesh,  to  put  it  off'  thus, 
and  to  offer  it  up  as  a  sacrifice,  which,  to  be 
acceptable,  must  of  necessity  be  free  and  vol- 
untary ;  and,  in  that  sense,  he  is  said  to  have 
died  even  by  that  same  Spirit,  which  here,  in 

I  opposition  to  death,  is  said  to  quicken  nim. 
See  Hcb.  ix.  14  :  'J'hrouch  the  Internal  Spirit, 
he  offered  liirnself  leilhout  sjiot  unto  God. 
They  accounted  it  an  ill-boding  sign  when 
the  sacrifices  came  constrained  to  the  altar, 
and  drew  back;  and,  on  the  contrary,  were 
gladdened  with  the  hopes  (jf  success  when 
they  came  cheerfully  forward  ;  but  never  sac- 

1  rifice  came -so  willingly  all  the  way.  and  from 

j  the  first  step  knew  whither  he  was  going. 

;  Yet,  because  no  other  sacrifice  would  serve, 
he  was  most  content  to  become  one:  Sacri- 
fices and  burnt-offerings  thou  didst  not  de- 
sire :  then- said  I,  Lo,  1  come.  Psalm  xl.  6,  7. 
He  was  not  only  a  willing  sacrifice,  as  Isaac, 

I  bound  peaceably,  and  laid  on  the  altar,  but 

I  his  own  sacrificer.  The  beasts,  if  they  came 
willin^'ly,  yet  offered  not  themselves;  but  hr, 
offered  up  himself ;  and  thus,  not  only  by  a 
willingness  far  above  all  those  sacrifices  of 
bullocks  and  goats,  but  bi/  the  Eternal  Spirit, 

j  he  offered  uj)  himself.  Therefore  he  says,  in 
this  regard,  /  lot/  down  my  life  for  my  sheep  ; 
it  is  not  pulled  from  me,  but  I  lay  it  down. 
And  so  it  is  often  expressed  by  (riTiMuitJ  he 

\died;  and  yet,  this  suits  with  it,  \n,tv.,r,.,niti\ 
put  to  death.  Yea,  it  was  also  expedient  to 
be  thus,  that  his  death  should  be  violent,  and 
so,  the  more  penal,  to  carry  the  more  clear 
exj)ressi(jn  of  a  punish nient,  and  such  a  vio- 
lent death  as  had  Ixiili  iijniiminy  and  a  curse 

I  lied  lo  il,  and  this  inflio'ed  in  a  judicial  way 


264 


L  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  III. 


(ihoiis-h,  as  from  llie  haiul*  of  nipn,  most  un- 
juslh  )  ;  iliat  lie  should  stand,  and  be  judged, 
and  condi'iiint'd  to  death  as  a  guilty  person, 
carrynig  in  tliat  person  the  persons  of  so  many 
who  shculd  otherwise  have  fallen  under  con- 
demnation, as  indeed  guilty.  Jlr  mis  num- 
bered wit/i  /vv//iM,'-7-e,s',\-or.s  (as  the  prophet  hath 
it),  hcriniii^  the  sins  of  many.   Isa.  liii.  vli. 

Thus,  then,  there  was,  in  his  death,  exter- 
nal violence  joined  with  internal  willingness. 
But  what  is  there  to  he  found  hut  complica- 
lions  of  wonders  in  our  Lord  Jesus  ?  Oh  ! 
high  inconceivable  mystery  of  godliness  ! 
God  manifcsied  in  the  Jlcsh  .'  Nothing  in  this 
world  so  strange  and  sweet  as  that  conjunc- 
ture, God  man,  hunianttas  Veil  What  a 
strong  foundation  of  i'riendshij)  and  union  be- 
tween the  person  of  man  and  God,  that  their 
natures  met  in  so  close  embraces  in  one  Per- 
son !  And,  then,  look  on,  and  see  so  i)oor  and 
despised  an  outward  condition  through  his 
liir'e,  yet  having  hid  under  it  the  majesty  of 
God,  (i/l  the  lin ghtncss  of  Ihc  Ful/ier's  glorij  ! 
il.nd  this  is  the  top  of  all,  that  he  was  )ivl  to 
death  in  the  fcsh  ;  the  Lord  ol'life  dying,  the 
Lord  of  glory  clothed  with  shame  !  But  it 
quickly  ap])eared  what  kind  of  person  it  was 
tliat  died,  by  this:  He  urns  put  to  death,  in- 
deed, in  the  flesh,  hut  (juickened  hi/  the  i^pirit  ! 

Quickened.]  He  was  indeed  too  great  a 
morsel  for  the  grave  to  digest.  For  all  its  vast 
craving  mouth  and  devouring  apjietite, crying, 
Sheo/,  Give,  i^ive,  yet  was  it  forced  to  give 
him  up  again,  as  the  fish  to  give  up  the  proph- 
et Jonah,  who,  in  that,  was  the  figure  of 
Christ.  The  chains  of  that  prison  are  strong, 
but  he  was  too  strong  a  prisoner  to  be  held  by 
them  ;  as  our  apostle  hath  in  his  sermon  (Acts 
11.  24),  that  it  was  not  possihie  that  he  sliould 
he  kepi  hi/  them.  They  thought  all  was  sure 
when  ihey  had  rolled  lo  the  stone,  and  sealed 
it;  that  then  the  grave  had  indeed  shut  her 
mouth  upon  him  ;  it  appeared  a  done  business 
to  them,  and  looked  as  if  it  were  very  com- 
plete in  his  enemies'  eyes,  and  very  desperate 
to  his  friends,  his  poor  disciples  and  follow- 
ers. Were  they  not  near  the  point  of  giving 
over,  when  they  said.  This  is  the  third  day, 
&c.,  and  We  thou<>ht  this  hud  heen  he  that 
should  have  delivered  Israel  ?  Lukexxiv.  2L 
And  yet,  he  was  then  with  them,  wlio  was 
indeed  the  deliverer  and  salvation  of  Israel. 
That  rolling  of  the  stone  to  the  grave,  was  as 
if  they  had  rolled  it  toward  tlie  east  in  the 
night,  to  slop  the  rising  of  the  sun  tlie  next 
morning  ;  much  further  above  all  their  watch- 
es and  iheir  power  was  this  Sun  of  Rif^hte- 
ousness  in  his  rising  again.  That  body  wliich 
was  entombed  was  united  to  ihe  spring  of 
.ife,  the  Divine  Spirit  of  the  Godhead  that 
quickened  it. 

Refection  Thus  the  church,  which  is 
likewise  his  body,  when  it  seems  utidone, 
when  it  is  broufbl  lo  the  lowest  |)ostur(!  and 
Slate,  yet,  by  virtue  of  that  mysiical  union 
with  jesus  Christ  (as  his  natural  body,  by 
ivrsjnal  union  with  his  Deity),  sIitII  be  pre- 


I  served  from  destruction,  and  shall  be  deliv- 

I  ered  and  raised  in  due  time.  Yea,  as  lie  was 
nearest  his  exaltation  iu  the  lowest  step  of 
his  humiliation,  so  is  it  with  his  church  : 
when  things  are  brought  to  the  most  hojieless 
appearance,  then  shall  light  arise  out  of  dark- 
ness. Cum  duplicanlur  lateres  venil  Moses, 
Therefore,  as  we  ought  to  seek  a  more 
humble  sense  of  Sion's  distress,  so  we  should 
also  be  solicitous  not  to  let  go  this  hi^ie,  that 
her  mighiy  Lord  will,  in  the  end,  be  glorious 
in  her  deliverance,  and  that  all  her  suffer- 
ings and  low  estate  shall  be  as  a  dark  ground 
to  set  off  the  lustre  of  her  restoration,  when 
the  Lord  shall  visit  her  with  salvation  ;  as  in 
the  rising  of  Jesus  Christ,  his  almighty  pow- 
er and  Deity  were  more  inanilesied  than  il 
he  had  not  died.  And  therefore  we  may  sa) 
confidently,  wiih  the  psalmist  to  his  Lord 
Psalm  Ixxi.  20:  Thou  who  hast  shoived  me 
great  and  sure  trouhles,  shall  iimcken  me 
again,  and  shall  hring  me  vp  from  the  depths 
of  the  earth:  Thou  shall  nicrease  my  great- 
ness,  a?id  comfort  me  on  every  side.  Yea, 
the  church  ''omcs  more  beautii'ul  out  of  the 
deepest  distress:  let  it  be  overwhelmed  with 
waves,  yet  it  sinks  not,  but  rises  up  as  only 
washed.  And  in  this  confidence  we  ought 
to  rejoice,  even  in  the  midst  of  our  sorrows  ; 
and,  though  we  live  not  to  see  them,  yet, 
even  in  beholding  afar  off,  to  be  gladdened 
with  the  great  things  the  Lord  will  do  tor 
his  church  in  the  laiter  times.  He  will  cer- 
tainly make  hare  his  holy  arm  in  the  eyes  of 
the  nations,  and  all  the  ends  of  the  earth 
shall  see  the  salvation  of  our  God.  Isa.  lii.  10. 
His  King  whom  he  hath  set  on  his  holy  hill, 
shall  grow  in  his  coiKjuesls  and  glory,  and  all 
that  rise  against  him  shall  lie  break  with  a 
rod  of  iron.  Psalm  ii.  He  was  humbled 
once,  but  his  glory  shall  be  for  ever.  As  many 
were  astonished  at  him,  his  visage  being  mar- 
red  more  than  any  man,  they  shall  be  as 
much  astonished  at  his  beauty  and  glory: 
So  shall  he  sprinkle  many  nations  ;  the  kings 
shall  shut  their  mouths  at  him.  Isa.  lii.  14,  ^p. 
According  as  here  we  find  that  remarkable 
evidence  of  his  divine  power  in  rising  from 

I  the  dead  :  pvt  to  death  m  the  flesh,  but  ijuich- 

]  ened  by  the  Spirit. 

I  Ref  2.  Thus  may  a  believing  soul  at  the 
lowest,  when,  to  its  own  sense,  it  is  given 

'  over  unto  death,  and  swallowed  up  of  it,  as 
it  were  in  the  belly  of  hell,  yet  look  up  to 

'  this  divine  power.  He  whose  soul  was  not 
left  there,  will  not  leave  thine  there.  Yea, 
when  thou  art  most  sunk  in  thy  sad  appre- 
hensions, and  far  ofl' to  thy  thinking,  then  is 
he  nearest  to  raise  and  comfort  thee ;  an 
sometimes  it  grows  darkest  immediately  be 

1  fore  day.  Rest  on  his  power  and  goodness, 
which  never  failed  any  who  did  so.  It  is  he 
(as  David  says)  u'ho  lifts  up  the  soul  from  the 
gales  of  death.    Psalm  ix.  IH. 

Ref  3.  Would  any  of  you  be  cured  f  f  that 
common  disease,  the  fear  of  death  ?  Look 
this  wav,  and  vou  sIihII  find  more  than  you 


Ver.  19—21.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


265 


seek  ;  you  shall  oe  t  lugnt,  not  only  to  fear, 
but  to  love  it.  Consider,  1.  His  death  :  he 
died.  By  that,  thou  who  receivest  him  as 
thy  life,  niayest  be  sure  of  this,  that  thou  art, 
by  that  his  death,  freed  from  the  second 
death.  Descemlit  hue  vita  nontra,  et  lulil 
mortem  nosirom,  et  nccidit  earn  de  ahundan- 
tia  vita  suce :  He  who  is  our  life,  says  Au- 
gustine,descended  hither,  and  bore  our  death, 
killing  it  by  the  aboundin?  of  his  life  And 
that  is  the  (jreat  point.  Let  that  have  the 
name  which  was  given  to  the  other,  the  mo.tt 
terrible  of  ajl  terrible  things;  and,  as  the 
second  death  is  removed,  this  death  which 
thou  art  to  pass  through,  is,  I  may  say,  beau- 
tified and  sweetened  :  the  ugly  visage  of  it 
becomes  amiable,  when  ye  look  on  it  in 
Christ,  and  in  his  death  ;  that  puts  such  a 
pleasing  comeliness  upon  it,  that  whereas 
others  fly  from  it  with  affright,  ihe  believer 
can  not  choose  but  embrace  it.  He  longs 
to  lie  down  m  that  bed  of  rest,  since  his 
Lord  lay  in  it,  and  hath  warmed  that  cnld 
bed  and  purified  it  wiih  his  fragrant  body. 
2.  But  especially  be  looking  forward  to  his 
return  thence,  <puckened  by  the  Spirit  ;  this 
being  to  those  who  are  in  him  the  certain 
pledge,  yea,  the  effectual  cause,  of  that  bles- 
sed resurrection  which  is  in  their  hopes. 
There  is  that  union  betwixt  them,  that  ihev 
shall  rise  by  the  communication  a'ld  virtue 
of  his  rising;  not  simply  by  his  power,  for 
BO  the  wicked  to  their  grief  shall  be  raised, 
but  they  by  his  life,  as  theirs.  Theref  )re  it 
is  so  often  reiterated,  John  vi.,  where  he 
speaks  of  himself  as  the  livinsr  and  life-siv- 
in^  hrtnd  to  believers,  /  will  mine  them  up 
at  the  la-it  day.  This  comfort  we  have  even 
for  the  house  of  clav  we  lay  down  ;  and  as 
for  our  more  considerable  part,  our  immortal 
souls,  this  his  death  and  rising  hath  prtn'i- 
ded  for  them,  at  their  dislodging,  an  entrance 
into  that  glory  where  he  is.  Now,  if  lhe=e 
things  werp  lively  apprehended  and  laid 
hold  on,  Christ  made  ours,  and  the  first  res- 
urrection manifest  in  us,  were  we  quickened 
by  his  Spirit  to  newness  of  life,  certainly 
i.;ere  would  not  be  a  more  welcome  and  re- 
freshing thought,  nor  a  sweeter  discourse  to 
us,  than  that  of  death.  And  no  matter  for 
the  kind  of  it.  Were  it  a  violent  death,  so 
was  his.  Were  it  what  we  account  most 
judgment-like  atnong  diseases,  the  plague: 
was  not  his  death  very  painful  ?  And  was 
U  not  an  accursed  death?  And  by  that  curse 
endured  by  him  in  his,  is  not  the  curse  taken 
iway  to  the  believer?  Oh  how  welcome 
will  that  day  be,  that  day  of  deliverance  I 
To  be  out  of  this  woful  prison,  I  regard  not 
at  what  door  I  go  out,  being  at  once  freed 
from  so  many  deaths,  and  let  in  to  enjoy  him 
who  is  my  life. 

Ver.  19.  Ry  which  also  he  wont  and  preached  unto 
the  spirits  in  prison  ; 

Ver.  20.  \Vhi'-h  soitu'timn  -worf  disobodifnt,  when 
oncp  llip  lontj-'-iilTi  rin?  of  Cod  w;iilcil  in        d  iys 
of  No  ih  wliili'  I  lie  ;ir'<  was  a  pri  pirin^  wlicn-in 
few,  that  is,  i  ighl  souls,  wore  saved  by  water. 
34 


I  V^.R.  21.  The  like  figure  whereunto,  even  baptism, 
doth  also  now  save  us  (not  the  putting  away  oi  the 
filth  of  the  flesh,  but  the  answ  er  of  a  good  con- 
science toward  God),  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

There  is  nothing  that  so  much  concerns  a 
Christian  to  know,  as  the  excellency  of  Je- 
sus Christ,  his  person  and  works ;  so  that  it 
is  always  pertinent  to  insist  much  on  that 
subject.  The  apostle,  having  spoken  of  this 
Spirit  or  divine  nature,  and  the  power  of  it, 
as  raising  him  from  the  dead,  takes  occasion 
to  speak  of  another  work  of  that  Spirit,  to 
wit,  the  emission  and  publishing  of  his  di- 
vine doctrine;  and  that,  not  as  a  new  thing 
following  his  death  and  rising,  but  as  the 
same  in  substance  with  that  which  was,  by 
the  same  Spirit,  promulgated  long  before, 
even  to  the  first  inhabitants  of  the  world. 
Quickened  by  the  Spirit,  that  is,  in  our  days, 
says  the  apostle  ;  but  then,  long  before  that, 
by  the  same  Spirit,  he  went  and  preached  to 
the  spirits  in  prison. 

This  place  is  somewhat  obscure  in  itself, 
but  as  it  usually  happens,  made  more  so  by 
the  various  fancies  and  contests  of  interpre- 
ters, aiming  or  pretending  to  clear  it.  These  I 
like  never  to  make  a  noise  of.  They  who 
dream  of  the  descent  of  Christ's  soul  into  hell, 
think  this  place  sounds  somewhat  that  way  ; 
but,  being  examined,  it  proves  no  way  suita- 
ble, nor  can,  by  the  strongest  wrestling,  be 
drawn  to  fit  their  purpose.  For,  1.  That  it 
was  to  preach,  he  went  thither,  they  are  not 
willing  to  avow  ;  though  the  end  they  as- 
sign is  as  groundless  and  imaginary  as  this 
is.  2.  They  would  have  his  business  to  be 
with  the  spirits  of  the  faithful  deceased  be- 
fore his  coming;  but  here  we  see  it  is  with 
the  disobedient.  And,  3.  His  spirit  here  is 
the  same  with  the  sense  of  the  foregoing 
words,  which  mean  not  his  soul,  but  his  eter- 
nal Deity.  4.  Nor  is  it  the  spirits  that  were 
m  prison,  as  they  read  it,  but  the  spirits  in 
prison,  which,  by  the  opposition  of  their  for- 
mer condition,  sometime,  or  formerly  disobe- 
dient, doth  clearly  speak  their  present  condi- 
tion, as  the  just  consequence  and  fruit  of 
their  disobedience. 

Other  misinterpretations  I  mention  not, 
taking  it  as  agreeable  to  the  whole  strain  of 
the  apostle's  words,*  that  Jesus  Christ  did, 
]     •  Thus  I  then  thouglit,  but  do  now  ajiprchcnd  an- 
I  other  sense,  as  prohahle,  if  not  more,  even  tljal  so 
j  much  rejected  by  most  interpi-eters  :  the  mission  of  llie 
Spirit,  and  preaching  of  t  e  gospel  by  it,  after  his  res- 
urrection, preaching  to  sinners,  and  converting  thern, 
according  to  the  prophecy  whi<  h  he  first  fulfilled  in 
t  person,  and,  after,  more  amply,  in  his  ajiostlcs.  That 
prophecy  I  mean,  Isa.  Ix.  1.  '  The  Sjiirit  came  upon 
him,  and  it  was  sent  from  him  on  his  ai)ostles,  to 
preach  to  spirits  in  primm  ;  lo  prrnrh  liherti/  to  llinsf. 
rfi^)^/iv.»,  captive  spirits,  and  therefore  callr'd  sjiirifs  in 
j  privm,  to  illustrate  the  thing  the  more,  by  opposition 
to  that  spirit  of  Christ,  thi'  spirit  i}f  lihnly,  setting 
them  free.    And  this  is  to  slmw  the  greiiter  cllii'acy 
of  Christ's  preaching,  than  of  Noah's  ;  Ihoiigh  lie  was 
I  a  sisn  il  preacher  of  rigliteousness,  yet  only  himself 
and  Ins  family,  eisrlit  persons,  were  saved  by  him; 
but  multitudes  of  all  nations  by  the  spirit  and  pre.vch 
,  ing  of  Christ  in  the  gospel  ;  and  that  by  tlit  sell  of 


266 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap,  fll 


hefiire  his  appearinsf  in  the  flesh,  pjifak  hy 
his  spirit  ill  his  servants  to  tliose  of  the  fore- 
goiiiii;  ai^es,  yea,  ilie  most  ancient  of  them, 
declaring  to  them  the  way  of  life,  though  re- 
jecied  hy  the  unbelief  of  the  most  jiart.  This 
is  inlerjected  in  the  yientioning-  of  Christ's 
sutlerings  and  exaltation  after  them.  And, 
afier  all,  the  a])osilc  returns  to  that  again, 
and  to  the  exhortation  which  lie  strengthens 
by  it :  but  so  as  that  this  discourse  taken  in, 
is  perlinenJy  adapted  to  the  jiresent  subject. 
The  aposiie's  aim  in  it  we  may  conceive  to 
be  this  (his  main  scope  being  to  encourage 
his  brethren  in  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  tiie 
way  of  holiness,  against  all  opposition  and 
hardship),  so  to  instruct  liis  brethren  in  Christ's 
perpetual  influence  into  his  church  in  all  ages, 
even  before  hisincarnation,  as  thai  they  might, 
at  the  same  time,  see  the  great  unbelief  of 
the  world,  yea,  their  opposing  of  Divine 
truth,  and  the  small  number  of  those  who  re- 
ceive it,  and  so  not  be  discouraged  by  the 
fewness  of  their  number,  and  the  hatred  of 
the  world,  finding  that  salvation  in  Jesus 
Christ,  dead  and  risen  airain,  which  the  rest 
miss  of  by  their  own  wilful  refusal.  And 
this  very  {wint  he  insists  on  clearly  in  the 
following  chapter,  ver.  3,  4.  And  the  very 
ways  ol'  ungodliness  there  specified,  which 
believers  renounce,  were  those  that  the  world 
was  ffuilty  of  in  those  days,  and  in  which 
they  were  surprised  by  the  flood:  They  ate 
and  drank  till  the  flood  came  upon  them. 

In  the  words  of  these  three  verses,  we  have 
three  things:  First,  An  assertion  concerning 
the  preaching  of  Christ,  and  the  persons  he 
preached  to.  Secondly,  The  designation  and 
description  of  the  time  or  age  wherein  that 
was,  and  the  particular  way  of  God's  dealing 
with  them.  Thirdly,  'i  he  adaptins  or  apply- 
ing of  ill  '-sample  to  Christians. — First,  the 
assertion  concerning  the  preaching  of  Christ, 
and  the  persons  he  preached  to,  in  these 
words,  which  I  take  together,  By  the  u-hich 
spirit  he  went  and  preached  to  the  spirits  in 
prison,  which  sometime  were  disobedient. 

In  these  words  we  have  a  preacher  and  his 
hearers.  With  regard  to  the  preacher,  we 
shall  find  here,  1st.  His  ability.  2dly.  His 
activity  in  the  use  of  it. 

Isi.  His  ability  is  altogether  singular  and 
matchless,  the  very  spring  of  all  abilities,  the 
Spirit  of  wisdom  himself,  being  the  coetcrnal 
Son  of  God.  That  Spirit  he  preached  by, 
was  the  same  as  that  by  wliich  he  raised 
himself  from  the  dead  ;  and  without  this 
Spirit  there  is  no  preaching.  Now  he  was, 
as  our  apostle  calls  him,  a  preacher  of  riiih- 
teousness,  but  it  was  by  the  power  of  this 
Spirit  :  for  in  hirn  did  this  Spirit  preach.  The 
Son  is  the  wisdom  of  the  Father,  his  name  is 
The  Word  ;  not  only  for  that  by  him  a/l 
*hin<rs  were  created,  as  John  hath  it,  John  i. 

baptism,  tlic  rpsiirrpction  of  Christ  l)nins^  rpprespntofl 
in  tho  return  from  tt"-  water,  and  oiirdying  with  him, 
by  immersion  ;  and  that  figure  of  baptism  isUlie  their 
uk  ' 


4,  (he  Son  being  that  power  by  which,  as  by 
the  word  of  his  mouiii,  all  things  were  made  ; 
but  he  is  The  Word,  likewise,  as  revealing 
the  Father,  declaring  to  us  the  counsel  and 
will  of  God:  therefore  he  is,  by  the  same 
evangelist,  in  the  same  place,  called  tluxt 
Liiiht  which  illuminates  tlie  world,  John  i.  9, 
without  which,  man,  called  the  lesser  world, 
the  intellectual  world,  were  as  the  greater 
world  without  the  sun.  And  all  who  bring 
aright  the  doctrine  of  saving  wisdom,  derive 
it  necessarily  from  him  ;  all  preachers  draw 
from  this  sovereign  preacher,  as  the  fountain 
of  Divine  light.  As  all  the  planets  receive 
their  light  from  the  sun,  and  by  that  diffusing 
itself  among  them,  it  is  not  diminished  in  the 
sun,  but  only  communicated  to  them,  re- 
maining still  full  and  entire  in  it  as  its 
source  ;  thus  doth  the  Sj)irit  flow  from  Christ, 
in  a  particular  degree,  unto  those  he  sends 
forth  in  his  name,  and  is  in  them  that  he 
preaches  by  the  power  and  light  of  his  eter- 
nal spirit. 

Hither,  then,  must  all  those  come  who 
Would  be  rightly  supplied  and  enabled  for 
that  work.  It  is  impossible  to  speak  duly  of 
him  in  any  measure,  but  by  his  Spirit  ;  there 
must  be  particular  access,  and  a  receiving  of 
instructions  from  him,  and  a  transfusion  of 
his  Spirit  into  ours.  Oh  !  were  it  thus  with 
us,  how  sweet  were  it  to  speak  of  him  !  To 
be  much  in  prayer,  much  in  depcndance  on 
him,  and  drawing  from  him, would  do  much 
more  in  this,  than  reading  and  studying, 
seeking  after  arts,  and  tongues,  and  common 
knowledge.  These',  indeed,  are  not  to  be 
despised  nor  neglected.  Ulilis  lectio,  ulilis 
eruditio,  sed  7nagis  unctio  necessai  ia,  quippe 
ij-iKC  sola  docet  de  omnibus,  says  Bernard  : 
Reading  is  good,  and  learning  good,  but 
above  all,  anointing  is  necessary,  that  anoint- 
ing that  teacheth  all  things.  And  you  who 
are  for  your  own  interest,  be  earnest  with  this 
Lord,  this  Fountain  oi'  .'Spirit,  to  let  forth 
more  of  it  upon  his  messengers  in  these  times. 
You  would  receive  back  the  fruit  of  it,  were 
ye  busy  this  way  ;  you  would  find  more  life 
and  refreshing  sweetness  in  the  word  of  life, 
how  weak  and  worthless  soever  they  were 
who  brought  it ;  it  should  descend  as  sweet 
showers  upon  the  valleys,  and  make  them 
fruitful. 

2d.  We  have  the  activity  of  Christ  as  a 
preacher.  By  this  spirit,  it  is  said  here.  He 
jireached.  Not  only  did  he  so  in  the  days  of 
his  abode  on  earth,  but  in  all  times,  both  be- 
fore and  after.  He  never  left  his  church  al- 
together destitute  of  saving  light,  wliich  h» 
dispensed  himself,  and  conveyed  by  the  hands 
of  his  servants ;  therefore  it  is  said,  lie  preach- 
ed, that  this  may  be  no  excuse  for  times  after 
he  is  ascended  into  heaven,  no,  nor  for  times 
before  he  descended  to  the  earth  in  human 
flesh.  Though  he  preached  not  then,  nor 
does  now  in  his  flesh,  yet  by  his  Spirit  he 
then  jireachcd,  and  still  doth  ;-so  that  accord- 
ing to  what  was  chief  in  him,  he  was  stil. 


Ver.  19-21.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


267 


present  with  his  church,  and  preaching  in  it, 
and  is  so  lo  the  end  of  the  world,  this  his  in- 
finite Spirit  being  everywhere.  Yet,  it  is 
said  here,  by  which  he  went  and  preached, 
signilying  the  remarkable  clearness  of  his  ad- 
ministration that  way.  As  when  he  appears 
eminently  in  any  work  of  his  own,  or  in  ta- 
king notice  of  our  works,  God  is  said  to  come 
down  (as  in  reference  to  those  cities  of  Babel 
and  Sodom,  Lei  vs  down,  and  /  will  go 
down  and  see.  Genesis  xi.  5,  7  ;  xviii.  21  ;  so 
Exod.  iii.  8,  /  am  come  down  to  deliver  Israel)  ; 
thus  here,  so  clearly  did  he  admonish  them 
by  Noah,  coming,  as  it  were,  himself,  on  pur- 
pose to  declare  his  mind  to  them.  And  this 
word,  I  conceive,  is  the  rather  used  to  show 
what  equality  there  is  in  this.  He  came,  in- 
deed, visibly,  and  dwelt  anions  men,  when 
he  became  flesh  :  yet,  before  that,  he  visited 
ihem  by  his  Spirit  ;  he  went  by  that,  and 
preached.  And  so,  in  after-times,  himself 
being  ascended,  and  not  having  come  visibly 
in  his  flesh  to  all,  but  to  the  Jews  only,  yet, 
in  the  preaching  of  the  apostles  to  the  Gen- 
tiles, as  the  great  apostle  says  of  him  in  that 
expression,  Eph.  ii.  17,  He  came  and  preached 
to  you  which  were  afar  off.  And  this  he  con- 
tinues to  do  in  the  ministry  of  his  word  ;  and 
therefore,  says  he,  He  that  despiselh  i/ou,  de- 
spiseth  me.  Luke  x.  16. 

Were  this  considered,  it  could  not  but  pro- 
cure far  more  resjiect  to  the  word,  and  more 
acceptance  of  it.  Would  you  think  that,  in 
his  word,  Christ  speaks  by  his  eternal  Spirit, 
yea,  thai  he  coiius  and  preaches,  addresses 
himself  particularly  to  you  in  it  :  could  you 
slight  him  ihus,  and  turn  him  off  with  daily 
refusals,  or  delays  ai  least  ?  Think,  it  is  too 
long  you  have  so  unworthily  used  so  great  a 
Lord,  who  brings  unto  you  so  great  salvation  ; 
who  came  once  in  so  wonderful  a  way  to  work 
that  salvation  for  us  in  his  flesh,  and  is  still 
coming  to  offer  it  unto  us  by  his  Spirit  :  who 
ioes  himself  preach  to  us,  telling  us  what  he 
undertook  on  our  behalf,  and  how  he  hath 
performed  all,  and  ihat  now  nothing  rests  but 
that  we  receive  him,  and  believe  on  him,  and 
all  is  ours.  But  alas!  from  the  most  the  re- 
turn is,  what  we  have  here — disobedience. 

Which  someli/ne  were  disohedieyit.]  There 
are  two  things  in  these  hearers,  by  which 
they  are  characterized  :  their  present  condi- 
tion in  the  lime  (he  apostle  was  speaking  of 
them,  spirits  in  prison,  and  their  former  dis- 
position, when  the  Sjiirit  of  Christ  was  preach- 
ing lo  ihem,  sometime  disobedient.  This  lat- 
ter went  first  in  time,  and  was  the  cause  of 
the  other  ;  therefore,  of  it  first. 

1.  Sometime  disobedient.]  If  you  look  to 
iheir  visible  subordinate  preacher,  you  find  he 
was  a  holy  man,  and  an  able  and  diligent 
preacher  of  riLfhlcousness,  both  in  his  doc- 
trine, and  in  the  track  of  his  life,  which  is 
the  most  powerful  preaching  :  on  both  which 
iccoiints  it  seems  strange  that  be  jirevailed 
to  lilile.  Hut  it  api)r-ars  inurh  more  so,  if  we 
o'^k  higher,  even  to  this  height  at  which  the 


apostle  points,  that  almighty  Spirit  of  Chrisi 
who  preached  to  them.  And  yet,  they  were 
disobedient  !  The  word  is  [  -r£,o.i<T., r,],  they 
were  not  persuaded  ;  it  signifies  both  unbelief 
and  disobedience,  and  that  very  fitly,  unbelief 
being  in  itself  the  grand  disobedience:  it  is 
the  mind's  not  yielcins  to  Divine  truth,  an'' 
so  the  spring  of  all  disobedience  in  affectior 
and  action.  And  this  root  of  biltrrness,  this 
unbelief,  is  deeply  fastened  in  obr  natura» 
hearts  ;  and  without  a  change  in  them,  a  ta- 
king them  to  pieces,  thev  can  not  be  good 
It  is  as  a  tree  firmly  rooted,  which  can  not  be 
plucked  up  without  loosening  the  ground 
round  about  it.  And  jhis  accursed  root  brings 
forth  fruit  unto  death,  because  the  word  is  not 
believed,  neither  the  threats  of  the  law,  nor 
the  promises  of  the  gosjiel  ;  therefore  men 
cleave  unto  their  sins,  and  speak  peace  unto 
themselves  while  they  are  under  the  curse. 
I  It  may  seem  very  strange  that  the  gospel  is 
so  fruitless  among  us  ;  yea,  that  neither  word 
nor  rod,  both  ])reaching  aloud  to  us  the  doc- 
trine of  humiliaiion  and  repentance,  persuades 
j  any  man  to  return,  or  so  much  as  lo  turn  in- 
ward, and  question  himself,  to  say,  "  What 
have  I  done?"  But  thus  it  will  be,  till  the 
S|)irit  be  poured  i'rom  on  high,  to  open  and 
soften  hearts.  This  is  to  be  desired,  as  much 
,  wanting  in  the  ministry  of  the  word  :  hut 
were  it  there,  that  would  not  serve,  unless  it 
[  were  by  a  concurrent  work  within  the  heart 
I  meeting  the  word,  and  making  the  iinpres- 
j  sions  of  it  there  ;  for  here  we  find  the  Spirit 
went  and  preachi  d  :  and  yet,  ihe  spirits  ol'  the 
hearers  still  remained  unbelieving  and  diso- 
bedient. It  is  iherefore  a  combined  work"  of 
this  Spirit  in  the  preacher  and  ihe  hearers, 
that  makes  it  successful,  otherwise  it  is  but 
shouting  in  a  dead  man's  ear  ;  there  must  be 
something  within,  as  one  said  in  a  like  case. 

2.  To  the  spirits  in  prison.]  That  is  now 
their  posture  :  and  because  he  speaks  of  ihem 
as  in  thai  posture,  he  calls  them  spirits;  for 
it  is  their  spirits  that  are  in  that  prisini.  He 
likewise  calls  them  spirits  to  whom  the  Sjjirit 
of  Christ  preached,  because  it  is  indeed  that 
which  the  preaching  of  the  word  aims  at  ;  it 
hath  to  do  with  the  spirits  of  men.  it  is  no', 
content  to  be  at  their  ear  with  a  sound,  but 
works  on  their  minds  and  spirits  some  way, 
either  to  believe  and  receive,  or  to  be  hard- 
ened and  sealed  up  to  judgment  by  it,  wliich 
is  for  rebels.  If  disobedience  folhjw  on  the 
preaching  of  that  wcjrd,  the  prison  follows  on 
that  disobedience  :  and  that  word,  by  which 
they  would  not  be  bound  to  obedience,  binds 
them  over  to  that  prison,  whence  they  shall 
never  escape,  nor  be  released  "or  ever. 

Take  notice  of  it,  and  know  that  you  are 
warned,  you  who  will  not  receive  salvation, 
offering,  pressing  itself  upon  you.  You  are 
every  day  in  that  way  of  disobedience,  hast- 
ening to  this  perpetual  imprisonment. 

Consider,  you  now  sit  and  hetir  this  word  ; 
so  did  those  who  are  here  spoften  fif :  they  lj«d 
their  time  on  earth,  and  much  patience  w 


268 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LCiiAP.  Ill, 


uspil  (owaf  1  them.  And  thouijh  you  are  not 
to  be  swej  t  away  by  a  fiuod  of  waters,  yet 
you  are  daily  carried  on  by  the  flood  of  lime 
and  luoriality.  Psalm  xc.  5.  And  how  soon 
yuu  shall  be  on  the  other  side,  and  sent  into 
eternity,  you  know  not.  I  beseech  you,  be 
yet  wise  ;  hearken  to  tlie  offers  yet  made  you  ; 
for  in  his  name  1  yet  once  atrain  make  a  ten- 
der of  Jesus  Christ,  and  salvation  in  him,  to 
all  that  will  let  go  their  sins,  to  lav  hold  on 
him.  Oh  !  do  not  destroy  yourselves.  You 
are  in  prison  ;  he  i)roclaims  unto  you  liberty. 
Christ  is  still  following  us  himself  with  trea- 
ties, damans  dictis,  faclis,  morie,  vita,  de- 
scen:iu,  ascensu,  damans  jft  redea/nus  ad  eum  : 
(Augustine):  Crying  aloud  by  his  words,  by  his 
deeds,  by  his  death,  by  his  life,  by  his  coming 
down  from  heaven,  by  his  ascension  into  it, 
crying  to  us  to  return  to  him.  Christ  pro- 
claims your  liberty,  and  will  you  not  accept 
of  it?  Think,  though  you  are  pleased  with 
your  present  thraldom  and  prison,  it  reserves 
you  (if  you  come  not  forth)  to  this  other  prison, 
that  shall  not  please  you  :  these  chains  of 
spiritual  darkness  in  which  you  arc,  unless 
you  be  freed,  will  deliver  you  up  to  ihe  chains 
of  evcrlastin:^  darkness,  wherein  these  hope- 
less prisoners  are  kept  to  the  judsrment  of  the 
great  day.  But  if  you  will  receive  Jesus 
Christ  presently  upon  that,  life,  and  liberty, 
and  blessedness,  are  made  yours.  If  the  Son 
make  you  free,  you  shall  he  free  indeed.  John 
viii.  35. 

When  once  the  long-suffering  of  God  limit- 
ed in  the  dai/s  of  Noah.]  There  are  two  main 
continuing  wonders  in  the  world,  the  bounty 
of  God,  and  the  disloyalty  of  man  ;  and  the 
succession  of  times  is  nothing  but  new  edi- 
tions of  these  two.  One  grand  example  is 
here  set  before  us,  an  oecumenical  example, 
as  large  as  the  whole  world  ;  on  the  part  of 
God  much  patience,  and  yet,  on  man's  part, 
invinci''  -?  disobedience.  Here  are  two  things 
in  the  instance.  1st,  The  Lord's  genera!  deal- 
ing with  the  world  of  the  ungodly  at  that  time. 
2dly,  His  peculiar  way  with  his  own  chosen, 
Noah  and  his  family  :  he  waited  patiently  for 
all  the  rest,  but  he  effectually  saved  them. 

Observe,  first.  The  time  designated  thus, 
In  the  days  of  Noah.  There  were  many 
great  and  powerful  persons  in  those  days, 
who  overtopped  (no  doubt)  in  outward  re- 
spects; as,  in  their  stature,  the  proud  giants. 
And  they  begot  children,  m/ifA/i/  men  of  old, 
men  of  renown,  as  the  text  hath  it.  Gen.  vi.  3  ; 
and  yet,  as  themselves  perished  in  the  flood, 
so  their  names  are  drowned.  They  had  their 
big  thoughts,  certainly,  that  their  houses  and 
their  names  should  continue,  as  the  psalmist 
■peaks  (Psalm  xlix.  11),  and  yet  they  are  sunk 
in  perpetual  oblivion  ;  while  Noah's  name, 
who  walked  in  bumble  obedience,  you  see  in 
these  most  precious  records  of  God's  own  book, 
still  looks  fresh,  and  smells  sweet,  and  hath 
this  honor,  that  the  very  age  of  the  world  is 
marked  with  this  name,  to  be  known  by  it: 
In  (he  days  of  Noah.    That  when  profane 


ambitious  persons  do  idolalrously  seek  after, 
they  are  often  remarkably  disappointed  of. 
They  would  have  their  names  memorable  and 
famous,  yet  they  rot :  they  are  either  buried 
with  iliem,or  remembered  with  disgrace,  rot- 
ting above  ground,  as  carcasses  uninterred, 
and  so  are  the  more  noisome  ;  it  being  as  little 
credit  to  them  to  be  mentioned,  as  for  Pilate 
that  liis  name  is  in  the  confession  ol'  faith. 
But  the  name  and  remembiance  of  the  righ- 
teous is  still  sweet  and  delightful ;  as  the 
name  of  Abraham  the  father  of  the  faithful, 
and  those  of  Isaac  and  Jacob  :  their  names 
are  embalmed  indeed,  so  that  they  can  not  rot, 
embalmed  with  God's  own  name  [Eternal'], 
THAT  name  being  wrapped  about  theirs,  thi 
God  of  Ahrnham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob. 

Thus  is  Noah  here  mentioned  as  preferred 
of  God  ;  and  so,  in  the  second  epistle,  as  a 
■preacher  of  righteousness,  and  Hebrews  xi., 
among  those  worthies  whose  honor  is,  that 
they  bclieoed.  This  is  only  a  name,  a  smaL 
thing,  not  to  be  mentioned  in  comparison  of 
their  other  privileges,  and  especially  of  that 
venerable  life  and  glory  which  they  are  heirs 
to  ;  and  indeed  it  is  a  thing  they  regard  very 
little  ;  yet,  this  we  see,  that  even  this  advan- 
tage follows  them,  and  flies  from  the  vain  and 
ungodly  who  haunt  and  pursue  it. 

The  Lord's  dealing  with  the  wicked  in 
those  times,  before  he  swept  them  away  by 
the  deluge,  is  represented  in  these  two  par- 
ticulars:  1.  Long-suffering,  and  withal,  2. 

j  Clear  warning. 

1.  Long-suffering — long  forbearing  to  be 
angry,  as  the  Hebrew  word  is  in  the  procla- 
mation of  the  Divine  name.  Exodus  xxxiv.  6, 
which  suj)poses  a  great  provocation,  and  the 
cuniinuance  of  it,  and  yet  patience  continuing. 
And  in  this  appears  the  goodness  of  God  :  con- 
sidering how  hateful  sin  is  to  him,  and  how 
))owerful  he  is  to  punish  it,  how  easy  were  it, 
if  it  pleased  him,  in  one  moment  to  cut  off  all 
the  ungodly,  high  and  low,  throughout  the 
whole  world  !  Yet  he  bears,  and  forbears  to 
punish  !  Oh  !  what  a  world  of  sin  is  every 
day  committed  in  nations,  in  cities,  and  vil- 
lages, yea,  in  families,  which  he  doth  not 
strike  with  present  judgtnrats,  and  not  only 
forbears  to  punish,  but  multiples  his  common 
mercies  on  them,  sun  and  rain  and  fruitful 
seasons.  Acts  xiv.  17. 

Yea,  there  is  so  much  of  this,  that  it  falls 
under  a  gross  misconstruction  ;  yet,  he  bears 
that  too.  Because  sentence  against  an  evil 
work  is  not  speedily  executed,  therefore  the 
heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them 
to  do  evil.  Eccles.  viii.  11.  Because  there  is 
not  so  much  as  a  word  of  it  for  the  lime  (so 
the  word  is),  this  swells  and  fills  the  heart  of 
man,  and  makes  it  big  to  do  evil.    And  not 

1  only  is  the  Lord's  long-suffering  mistaken  by 

I  the  ungodly,  but  even  by  his  own,  who  should 
understand  him  better,  and  know  the  tru.' 
sense  of  his  ways,  yet  sometimes  they  are 
misled  in  this  point :  beholding  his  forbear- 

,  ance  of  punishing  the  workers  of  iniquity,  in- 


Ver.  lO-  II.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


269 


slead  of  magnifying  his  patienne.  tney  ta 
very  near  into  questioning  hi*  lustice  ana 
providence.  See  Psalm  xiii..  J<>r.  xii.,  iol. 
zx..  Sec.  Our  narrow,  liasty  onirics,  le*t  to 
their  own  measures,  takr  p.ot  in  tnose  larger 
views  that  would  satisfy  us  in  resjjcct  to  tne 
ways  of  God,  and  forget  the  immense  large- 
ness of  his  wise  designs,  his  deep  reach  from 
one  age  to  another,  yea,  from  eternity  to  eter- 
nity. We  consider  not.  1 .  How  easily  he  can 
right  himself,  in  point  of  justice,  when  he 
will :  that  none  can  make  escape  from  him, 
how  loose  soever  their  guard  seem,  and  how 
great  liberty  soever  appears  in  their  present 
condition.  Nemo  deco'/uit  huic  creditori.  2. 
That  as  he  can  most  easily,  so  he  will  most 
seasonably,  be  known  in  executing  judgment ; 
and  that  his  justice  shall  shine  the  brighter, 
by  all  that  patience  he  hath  used,  by  the  sun 
of  prosperity.  3.  We  think  not  how  little 
that  time  is  to  him,  which  seems  long  to  us, 
to  whom  a  thousand  years  are  as  one  day. 
It  seemed  a  long  time  of  tiie  ciiurch's  distress 
and  their  enemies'  triumph,  in  those  seventy 
years  of  the  Babylonish  captivity  ;  and  yet,  in 
God's  language,  it  is  spoken  of  as  a  moment, 
a  small  1  no ment,  Isa.  liv.  7.  However,  in  the 
issue,  ttie  Lord  always  clears  himself.  He  is 
indeed  long-suffering  and  patient,  but  the  im- 
penitent abusers  of  his  patience  pay  interest 
for  ail  the  time  of  that  forbearance,  in  the 
weight  of  judgment  when  it  comes  upon 
them.  But  thus,  we  see,  the  Lord  deals. 
Thus  he  dealt  with  the  world  in  the  begin- 
ning, vjhen  all  flesh  had  corrupted  their  way  ; 
y'-.  saith  he,  their  days  shall  be  one  hundred 
and  iioenty  years.  Gen.  vi.  3. 

Let  us  learn  to  curb  and  cool  our  brisk 
humors  toward  even  stubborn  tsinners.  Be 
grieved  at  their  sin,  for  that  is  your  duty  ;  but 
think  it  not  strange,  nor  fret  at  it,  that  they 
continue  to  abuse  the  long-suffering  of  God, 
and  yet,  that  he  continues  ever  abused  by  suf- 
fering them.  Zeal  is  good,  but  as  it  springs 
("rom  love,  if  it  be  right,  so  it  is  requited  by 
love,  and  carries  the  impressions  of  it :  of  love 
to  God,  and  so,  a  complacency  in  his  way, 
liking  it  because  it  is  his  ;  and  of  love  to  men, 
so  as  to  be  pleased  with  that  waiting  for 
them,  in  the  possibility,  at  least,  of  their 
being  reclaimed  ;  knowing  that,  however,  if 
they  return  not,  yet  t|ie  Lord  will  not  lose 
his  own  at  llieir  hands.  Wilt  thou,  said  those 
two  fiery  disciples,  that  we  call  for  fire,  as 
Elias?  Oh  !  hui  the  spirit  of  tlie  dove  rested 
on  him  who  told  them,  They  knew  not  what 
spirit  thei)  were  of.  Luke  ix.  55,  q.  d. :  You 
speak  of  Elias,  and  you  think  you  are  of  his 
spirit  in  this  motion,  but  you  mistake  your- 
selves ;  this  comes  from  another  spirit  than 
you  imagine.  Instead  of  looking  for  such 
sudden  justice  without  you,  look  inward,  and 
see  whence  mat  is  :  examine  and  correct 
that  wiihin  you. 

When  you  are  tempted  to  take  ill  that 
goodness  and  patience  of  (jod  to  sinners,  con- 
sider, I.  Can  this  be  right,  to  differ  from  his 


I  ininfi  .n  anything  '   Is  it  not  our  only  wisdom 
I  au>'.  ever  safe  rule,  to  think  as  he  thinks,  and 
I  w'lU  as  he  wills?    And  I  pray  you,  does  he 
'  not  hate  sin  more  than  you  do?    Is  not  nis 
I  interest  in  punishing  it  deeper  than  yours  ? 
And  if  you  be  zealous  for  his  interest,  as  you 
pretend,  then  be  so  with  him,  and  in  his  way  ; 
for  starting  from  that,  surely  you  are  wrong. 
Consider,  2.  Did  he  not  wait  for  thee  ?  What 
had  become  of  thee,  if  long-suffering  had  sub. 
served  his  purpose  of  further  mercy,  of  free 
'  pardon  to  thee  ?    And  Avhy  wilt  thou  not 
!  always  allow  that  to  which  thou  art  so  much 
obliged  ?    Wouidst  thou  have  the  bridge  cut, 
because  thou  art  so  over  ?    Surely  thou  wilt 
;  not  own  so  gross  a  thought.    Therefore,  es- 
j  teem  thy  God  still  the  more,  as  thou  seest  the 
more  of  his  long-suffering  to  sinners  :  and 
learn  for  him,  and  with  him,  to  bear  and  wait. 

2.  But  this  was  not  a  dumb  furbearance, 
such  as  may  serve  for  a  surprise,  but  contin- 
ual teaching  and  warning  were  joined  with  it, 
as  remarked  belitre.  We  see,  they  wanted 
not  preaching  of  the  choicest  kind.  He,  the 
Sun  of  God,  by  his  Eternal  Spirit,  went  and 
preached  to  them  ;  it  was  his  truth  in  Noah's 
mouth.  And  with  that,  we  have  a  continued 
real  sermon,  expressed  in  this  verse.  While  the 
ark  was  preparin^j;  :  that  spoke  God's  mind, 
and  every  knock  (as  the  usual  observation  is) 
of  the  hammers  and  tools  used  in  building, 
preached  to  them,  threatening  aloud  designed 
judffment,  and  exhorting  to  prevent  it.  And 
therefore  that  word  is  added,  i^,c6i-)(CT,,.  that  the 
[  long-suffering  of  God  waited,  or  expected  ; 
expected  a  believing  of  his  word,  and  a  re- 
turning from  their  wickedness.  But  we  see 
no  sucli  thing  followed  ;  they  took  their  own 
course  still,  and  thcrel'ore  the  L(jrd  took  his. 
They  had  polluted  the  earth  with  their  wick.  ■>d- 
ness  ;  now  the  Lord  would  have  the  cleansing 
by  repentance  ;  that  being  denied,  it  must  be 
another  way,  by  a  flood.  And  because  they 
and  their  sins  remained  one,  they  would  not 
part  with  them,  therefore  was  one  work  made 
of  both  ;  they  and  their  sins,  as  inseparable, 
must  be  cleansed  away  together. 

Thus  impenitency  under  much  long-suffer- 
ing, makes  judgment  lull  am!  complete.  I 
appeal  to  you,  hath  not  the  Lord  used  much 
forbearance  toward  us  ?  Hath  he  not  patient- 
ly spared  us,  and  clearly  warned  us,  and  wait- 
ed long  for  the  fruit  of  all?  Hath  anything 
been  wanting?  Have  not  temporal  mercies 
been  multiplied  on  us  ?  Have  not  the  spirit- 
ual riches  of  the  gospel  been  opened  up  to  us  ? 

And  each  of  you,  for  yourselves,  consiaer 
how  it  is  with  you  after  so  much  long-suffer- 
ing of  God,  which  none  of  you  can  deny  he 
hath  used  toward  vou,  and  so  many  gracious 
invitations,  with  that  patience.  Have  they 
gained  your  hearts,  or  do  you  still  remain 
servants  to  sin,  still  strangers  to  him,  and 
formal  worshippers  ?  I  beseech  you,  think 
on  it,  what  will  be  the  issue  of  that  course. 
Is  it  a  light  matter  to  you,  to  die  in  yovr  sins, 
and  to  have  the  wrath  of  God  abiding  on  you  f 


270 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


,'Chap.  III. 


lo  have  rcfvisod  Christ  so  ofu'n,an{i  ihat  after 
yoti  have  boen  so  niton  requested  to  receive 
salvation  ?  Alter  the  Lord  haili  folinwed 
you  \vi;h  entreaties,  iiath  called  to  you  so 
ot'ten,  n  Viy  u  ill  ye  die  ?  yet,  wilfully  to  perish, 
and  withal  lo  have  all  these  entreaties  come 
in  and  accuse  you,  and  make  your  burden 
heavier?  Would  you  willingly  die  in  this 
estate?  If  not,  then  think  that  yet  he  is 
waiting,  if  at  length  you  will  return.  This 
one  day  more  of  his  waiting  you  have,  and 
of  his  speaking  to  you  ;  and  some  who  were 
here  with  you  the  last  day,  are  taken  away 
since.  Oh.  that  we  were  wise,  and  trini/d  con- 
sider our  latter  end .'  Though  there  were 
neither  swtird  nor  ])estilenee  near  you,  you 
tniist  die,  and,  for  anything  you  know,  quickly. 
Why  wear  you  out  the  day  of  crace  and 
those  precious  seasons  still,  as  uncertain  of 
Christ,  yea,  as  undiliijent  after  him,  as  you 
were  long  ago  ?  As  you  love  your  souls,  be 
more  serious  in  iheir  business.  This  was  the 
undoing  of  the  sinners  we  are  speaking  of : 
they  were  all  for  present  ihinus.  J'/iiy  ate 
mid  drank,  they  married,  in  a  continued  course, 
without  ceasing,  and  without  minding  their 
after-estate.  Luke  xvii.  27.  They  were 
drowned  in  these  things,  and  that  drowned 
them  in  a  flood.  Noah  did  also  eat  and  drink, 
but  his  main  work  was,  during  that  time,  the 
preparing  of  the  ark.  The  necessities  of  this 
life  the  children  of  (iod  are  tied  to,  and  forced 
to  bestow  some  time  and  pains  on  them  ;  but 
the  thing  that  takes  up  their  hearts,  that 
which  the  bent  of  their  souls  is  set  on,  is  their 
interest  in  Jesus  Christ:  and  all  your  wise 
designs  are  but  a  pleasing  madness,  till  this 
be  chief  with  you.  Gih'ershave  had  as  much 
of  God's  patience,  and  as  fair  opportunity,  as 
you.  whose  souls  and  Christ  had  never  met, 
and  now  know  that  they  never  shall.  They 
had  their  time  of  worldly  projects  and  enjoy- 
ment, as  you  now  have,  and  followed  them, 
as  if  they  had  been  immortally  to  abide  with 
them  ;  but  they  are  passed  away  as  a  shadow, 
and  we  are  posting  after  them,  and  within 
awhile  shall  lie  down  in  the  dust.  Oh  !  how 
happy  they  whose  hearts  are  not  here,  tra- 
ding with  vanity  and  gathering  vexation,  but 
whose  thou<;hts  are  on  that  blessed  life  above 
trouble!  Certainly,  they  who  pass  for  fools 
in  the  world,  are  the  only  children  of  xcisdom, 
they  who  have  renounced  their  lusts  and 
their  own  wills,  have  yielded  up  themselves 
to  Jesus,  taking  him  for  their  Kin?,  and  have 
their  minds  resting  on  him  as  their  salvation. 

While  the  ark  was  a  prcparin  s.  ]  Observe, 
the  delay  of  the  Lord's  determined  judgment 
on  the  ungodly,  was  indeed  long-suffering 
toward  them,  but  here  was  more  in  it  to 
T^oah  and  his  family  ;  the  providing  for  their 
T reservation,  and,  till  that  was  completed  for 
t'icm,  the  rest  were  spared.    Thus,  the  very 

■  orbearance  which  the  ungodly  do  enjoy,  is 
lisually  involved  with  the  interest  of  the  god- 

■  i  ;  something  of  that  usually  goes  into  it; 
i»nd  so  it  is  in  a  great  part  for  their  sakes, 


that  the  rest  are  both  spared  and  furnished 
with  common  mercies.  The  saints  are  usu- 
ally the  scorn  and  contempt  of  others,  yet  are 
they,  by  that  love  the  Lord  carries  towar  1 
them,  the  very  arches  and  pillars  of  statr-^, 
and  kingdt)ms,  and  families,  where  they  ake, 
yea,  of  the  world  (Semen  sanctum  statiirnen 
terrtr),  the  fiame  whereof  is  continued  mainly 
in  regard  to  them.  Isa.  vi.  13.  But  they 
who  are  ungrateful  to  the  great  Maker  ai.d 
Upholder  of  it,  and  regardless  of  him,  what 
wonder  if  they  take  no  notice  of  the  advan- 
tage they  receive  by  the  concernment  of  his 
children  in  the  world  ?    Observe  here, 

I.  The  work.  II.  The  end  of  it.  1.  In  the 
work,  the  preparing  of  the  ark,  observe,  1st, 
God's  appointment  :  2dly,  Noah's  obedience. 

\st.  It  was  God's  appointment.   His  power 
was  not  tied  to  this,  yet  his  wisdom  cliose  it. 
He  who  steered  the  course  of  this  ark  safely 
all  that  time,  could  have  jireservcd  those  he 
designed  it  for  without  it :  but  thus  it  pleases 
the  Lord,  usually,  to  mix  his  most  wonderful 
t  deliverances  with  some  selected  means;  ex- 
'  ercising,  in  that  way,  our  obedience  in  tlieir 
use,  yet  so  as  that  the  singular  power  of  his 
j  hand   in   them,  whereon  faith  rests,  doth 
clearly  ajipear,  doing  by  them  what,  in  a 
more  natural  way,  they  could  not  possibly 
effect. 

2dly.  For  the  obedience  of  Noali,  if  we 
should  insist  on  the  difficulties,  both  in  this 
work  and  in  the  way  of  their  preservation  by 
[  it,  it  would  look  the  clearer,  and  be  found 
I  very  remarkable.    Considering  the  length  of 
;  the  work,  the  great  pains  in  providinic  mate- 
!  rials,  especially  ccmsidering  the  o|)|)osition 
!  that  probably  he  met  with  in  it  from  the  pro 
fane  about  him,  the  mightier  of  them,  or,  a(. 
i  least,  the  hatred  and  continual  scoffs  of  all 
I  sorts,  it  required  principles  of  an  invincible 
j  resolution  to  go  through  with   it.  What 
;  (would  they  say)  means  this  old  dolard  to 
'  do?    Whither  this  monstrous  voyage  ?  And 
1  inasmuch  as  it  spoke,  as  no  doubt  he  told 
j  them,  their  ruin  and  his  safety,  this  would 
i  incense  them  so  much  the  more.    You  look 
j  far  before  you,  and  what  !  shall  we  all  per- 
ish, and  you  alone  escape  ?    But  through  all, 
tne  sovereign  command  and  gracious  prom- 
\  ise  of  his  God  carried  him,  regarding  their 
scoffs  and  threats  as  little  in  making  the 
ark,  as  he  did  afterward  the  noise  of'  the 
waters  about  it,  when  he  was  sitting  safe 
within  it.    This  his  obedience,  having  in- 
deed so  boisterous  winds  to  enccjunter,  had 
need  of  a  well-fastened  root,  that  it  might 
stand  and  hold  out  against  them  all,  and  so 
it  had.    The  apostle  St.  Paul  tells  us  what 
the  root  of  it  was:  By  faith  heing  warned  of 
God,  he  prepared  an  ark.    Heb.  xi.  7.  And 
there  is  no  living  and  lasting  obedience  but 
what  springs  from  that  rojt.    He  believed 
what  the  Lord  spake  of  his  determined  judg- 
ment on  the  ungodly  world,  and  from  the  be- 
lief of  that  arose  that  holy  fear  which  is  ex- 
pressly mentioned,  Heb.  xi.  7,  as  exciting 


Ver.  19—21.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


271 


him  to  t!iis  work  ;  and  he  believed  the  word 
of  pronrse,  which  the  Lord  spake  coacerning 
his  preservation  by  the  ark  :  and  the  belief 
of  thess  two  carried  him  strongly  on  to  the 
work,  and  through  it,  against  all  counter- 
blasts and  opposition  ;  overcame  both  his 
own  doublings  and  the  raockings  of  the 
wicked,  while  he  still  looked  to  him  who 
was  the  master  and  contriver  of  the  work. 

Till  we  attain  such  a  fixed  view  of  our 
God,  and  such  firm  persuasion,  of  his  truth, 
and  power,  and  goodness,  it  will  never  be 
right  with  us;  there  will  be  nothing  but  wa- 
vering and  unseJtledness  in  our  spirits  and  in 
our  ways.  Every  little  discouragement  from 
within  or  from  without,  that  meets  us,  will 
be  likely  to  turn  us  over.  We  shall  not  walk 
in  an  even  course,  but  still  be  reeling  and 
staggering,  till  faith  be  set  wholly  upon  its 
own  basis,  the  proper  foundation  of  it :  not 
set  between  two  upon  one  strong  prop,  and 
another  that  is  rotten,  partly  on  God,  and 
partly  on  creature  helps  and  encouragements, 
or  our  own  strength.  Our  only  safe  and 
happy  way  is,  in  iiuirible  obedience,  in  his 
own  strength  to  follow  his  appointments, 
without  standing  and  questioning  the  matter, 
and  10  resign  the  conduct  of  all  to  his  wis- 
dom and  love  ;  to  put  the  rudder  of  our  life 
into  his  hand,  to  steer  the  course  of  it  as 
seemeth  him  a^ood,  resting  quietly  on  his 
word  I'f  promise  for  our  safety.  Lord,  whither 
thou  wilt,  and  which  way  thou  wilt,  be  tliou 
my  guide,  and  it  sufTiceth. 

This  absolute  following  of  God,  and  trust- 
ing him  with  all,  is  marked  as  the  true  char- 
acter of  faith  in  Abraham;  his  eoing  after 
God  away  from  his  country,  not  knoii  in^,  nor 
asking  vJut/inr  hemwant,  secure  in  his  guide. 
And  so,  in  that  other  greater  point  of  offering 
his  Son,  he  silenced  all  disputes  about  it,  by 
that  mighty  conclusion  f>f  faith,  acconntinn; 
that  he  ivns  ahle.  to  raise  him  from  the  dead. 
Heb.  xi.  8,  19.  These  it  is  said,  v.  7,  By  faith, 
Noah  prepared  the  ark.  He  did  not  argue 
and  (juestion,  How  shall  this  be  done,  and  if 
it  were,  how  shall  I  get  all  the  kinds  of 
beasts  gathered  together  to  put  into  it,  and 
how  shall  it  be  ended,  when  we  are  shut  in  ? 
No,  but  he  believed  firmly  that  it  should  be 
finished  by  him,  and  he  be  saved  by  it ;  and 
he  was  not  disappointed. 

II.  The  end  of  this  work  was  the  saving 
o/Noah  and  his  family  from  the  general  del- 
uge, wherein  all  the  rest  perished. 

Here  it  will  be  fit  to  consider  the  point  of 
the  preservation  of  the  irodly  in  ordinarv  and 
common  caiainities,  brieflv  in  these  positions. 

1.  It  is  certain  that  the  children  of  God,  as 
they  are  not  exem[)ted  from  the  common, 
univertal  cahunities  and  evils  of  this  life, 
which  i)efaii  tlie  rest  of  men,  so  not  from  any 
particular  kind  of  them.  As  it  is  appointed 
for  them,  with  all  others,  once  to  die,  so  we 
find  ihem  not  privileged  from  any  kind  of 
disease,  or  other  way  of  death  ;  not  from  fall- 
ing by  sword,  or  by  pestilence,  or  in  the  phrensy 


'  of  a  fever,  or  any  kind  of  sudden  death  :  yea, 
when  these,  or  such  like,  are  on  a  land  by 
way  of  public  judgment,  the  godly  are  not  al- 

!  together  exempted  from  tliein,  but  may  fai. 
in  them  with  others  ;  as  we  find  Moses  dying 
in  the  wilderness  with  those  he  brought  out 
of  Egypt.  Now  though  it  was  lor  a  particu- 
lar failing  in  the  wilderness,  yet  it  evinces, 
that  there  is  in  this  no  infringement  upon 
their  privileges,  nothing  contrary  to  the  love 
of  God  toward  them,  and  his  covenant  with 
them. 

2.  The  promises  made  to  the  godly  of  pres- 
ervation, from  common  judgmenis,  have  their 
truth,  and  are  made  good  in  many  of  them 
who  are  so  preserved,  though  they  do  not 

'  hold  absolutely  and  universally.  For  they 
j  are  ever  to  be  understood  in  subordination  to 
their  highest  good  ;  but  when  they  are  pre- 
served, they  ought  to  take  it  as  a  gracious  ac- 
complishment even  of  these  promises  to  them, 
which  the  wicked,  many  of  whom  do  like- 
wise escape,  have  no  right  to,  but  are  pre- 
served for  after  judgment. 

3.  It  is  certain  that  the  curse  and  sting  is 
taken  out  of  all  those  evils  incident  to  the 
godly  with  others,  in  life  and  death,  which 
makes  the  main  difference,  though  to  the  eye 
of  the  world  invisible.  And  it  mav  be  ob- 
served, that  in  those  common  judgments  of 
sword,  or  pestilence,  or  other  epidemic  dis- 

i  eases,  a  great  part  of  those  who  are  cut 
off  are  of  the  wickedest,  though  the  Lord 
may  send  of  those  arrows  to  some  few  of  his 
own,  to  call  them  home. 

The  full  and  clear  distinction  of  the  godly 
and  the  wicked,  being  re«erved  for  their  after- 
estate  in  eternity,  it  needs  not  seem  strange, 
that  in  many  things  it  appears  not  here.  One 
thing  above  all  others  most  grievous  to  the 
child  of  God,  may  take  away  the  wonder  of 
other  things  they  sufl'er  in  common,  that  is, 
the  remainders  of  sin  in  them  while  they  are 
in  the  flesh  :  though  there  is  a  s|)irit  in  them 
above  it,  and  contrary  to  it,  which  makes  the 
difference,  yet,  sometimes  the  too  much  like- 
ness, especially  in  the  prevailiiigs  of  corrup- 
tion, doth  confuse  the  matter,  not  only  to  oth- 
ers' eyes,  but  to  their  own. 

4.  Though  ihc  great  distinction  and  sever- 
ing be  reserved  to  that  great  and  solemn  day, 
wbich  shall  clear  all,  yet  the  Lord  is  pleased, 
in  part,  more  remarkably  at  sometimes  to 
distinguish  bis  own  from  (he  ungodly,  in  the 
execution  of  temporal  judgments,  and  to  give 
these  as  preludes  of  that  final  ana  f'ull  judg- 
ment. And  this  instance  of"  Noah  was  one 
of  the  most  eminent  in  that  kind,  being  the 
most  general  judgment  that  ever  befell  the 
world,  or  that  shall  befall  it  till  tiie  iasi,  and 
so  the  liveliest  figure  of  it  ;  this  was  hy  wa- 
ter, as  the  second  shall  be  by  fire.    It  wasi 

1  most  congruous  that  it  should  resemble  it 
in  this,  as  the  chief  point  ;  the  saving  of 

[righteous  Noah  and  his  family  from  it,  pre- 
figuring the  eternal  salvation  of  believers,  as 

;  our  apostle  teacheth. 


272 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[CilAP.  Ili 


V/Aerein  yVir,  that  is,  eight  persons,  tcere 
saved  by  water.]  This  git'at  point  oi'  ihe 
fewness  of  tiiose  who  are  saved  in  the  oilier 
greater  salvation,  as  in  this  1  shall  not  now 
prosecute  :  only, 

1.  If  so  few,  then,  the  inquiry  into  our- 
selves, whether  we  be  of  these  few,  should 
be  more  dilin^ent,  and  followed  more  home, 
than  it  is  as  yet  with  the  most  of  us.  We 
are  wary  in  our  trifles,  and  only  in  this  ea- 
sily deceived,  yea,  our  own  deceivers  in  this 
great  point.  Is  not  this  folly  far  beyond 
what  you  usually  say  of  some,  Penny  wise 
and  jiound  foolish  ;  to  be  wise  for  a  moment, 
and  fools  for  eternity  ? 

2.  You  who  are  indeed  seeking  the  way 
of  life,  be  not  discouraged  by  your  fewness. 
It  hath  always  been  so.  You  see  here,  how 
few  of  the  whole  world  were  saved.  And 
is  it  not  better  to  be  of  the  lew  in  the  ark, 
than  of  the  multitude  in  the  waters?  Let 
them  fret  as  ordinarily  they  do,  to  see  so  few 
more  diligent  for  heaven  ;  as  no  doubt  they 
did  in  the  case  of  Noah.  And  this  is  what 
galls  them,  that  any  should  have  higher  names 
and  surer  hopes  this  way  :  What !  are  none 
but  such  a?  you  going  to  heaven  ?  Think 
you  all  of  us  damned  ?  What  can  we  say, 
but  that  there  is  a  flood  of  wrath  awaiting 
many,  and  certainly,  all  that  are  out  of  the 
ark  shall  perish  in  it. 

3.  This  is  that  main  truth  that  I  would 
leave  with  you:  look  on  Jesus  Christ  as  the 
ark,  of  whom  this  was  a  figure,  and  believe  it, 
out  of  him  there  is  nothing  but  certain  de- 
struction, a  deluge  of  wrath,  all  the  world 
over,  on  those  who  are  out  of  Christ.  Oh  ! 
it  is  our  life,  our  ()nly  safety,  to  be  in  him. 
But  these  things  are  not  believed.  Men  think 
they  believe  them,  and  do  not.  Were  it  be- 
lieved, that  we  are  under  the  sentence  of 
eternal  death  in  our  natural  state,  and  that 
there  is  no  escape  but  by  removing  out  of 
ourselves  unto  Christ,  Oh,  what  thronging 
would  there  be  to  him  !  Whereas,  now,  he 
invites,  and  calls,  and  how  few  are  persuaded 
to  come  to  him !  Noah  believed  the  Lord's 
word  of  judgment  against  the  world,  believed 
his  promise  made  to  him,  and  prepared  an 
ark.  Is  it  not  a  high  sign  of  unbelief,  that, 
there  being  an  ark  of  everlasting  salvation 
ready  prepared  to  our  hand,  we  will  not  so 
much  as  come  to  it  ?  Will  you  be  per- 
suaded certainly,  that  the  ark-door  stands 
open  ?  His  offers  are  free  :  do  but  come  and 
try  if  he  will  turn  you  away.  No,  he  will 
not:  Him  that  comes  to  me,  I  will  in  no  tvise 
cast  out.  John  vi.  37.  And  as  there  is  such 
acceptance  and  sure  preservation  in  him, 
there  is  as  sure  perishing  without  him,  trust 
on  what  you  will.  Be  you  of  a  giant's  stat- 
ure (as  many  of  them  were),  to  help  you  to 
climb  up  (as  they  would  surely  do  when  the 
flood  came  on)  to  the  highest  mountains  and 
tallest  trees,  yet,  it  shall  overtake  you.  Make 
your  best  of  your  worldly  advantages,  or 
good  parts,  or  civil  righteousness,  all  shall 


1  prove  poor  shifts  from  the  flood  of  wrath 
which  rises  above  all  these,  and  drowns 
them.  Only  the  ark  of  our  salvation  is  safe 
Think  how  gladly  they  would  have  been 
within  the  ark,  when  they  J'oiiiid  death  with- 

I  out  it  :  and  now  it  was  loo  late  !  IIow  would 
many  who  now  despise  Christ,  vi'ish  to  honor 
him  one  day  !  Men,  so  long  as  they  thought 
to  be  safe  on  the  earth,  would  never  betake 
them  to  the  ark,  would  think  it  a  prison  ;  and 
could  men  find  salvation  anywhere  else,  they 
would  never  come  to  Christ  for  it:  this  :s. 
because  they  know  him  not.  But  yet,  be  i 
necessity,  let  that  drive  thee  in  ;  and  then 
being  in  him,  thou  shalt  find  reason  to  lovt 
him  for  himself,  besides  the  salvation  jhou 
hast  in  him. 

You  who  have  fled  into  him  for  refuge, 
wrong  him  not  so  far  as  to  question  your 
safety.  What  though  the  floods  of  thy  for- 
mer guiltiness  rise  hish,  thine  Ark  shall  still 
be  above  them:  and  the  higher  they  rise,  the 
higher  he  shall  rise,  shall  have  the  more 
glory  in  freely  justifying  and  saving  thee. 
Though  thou  find  the  remaining  power  of  sin 
still  within  thee,  yet  it  shall  not  sink  thine 
ark.  There  was  in  this  ark  sin,  ^'et  they 
were  saved  from  the  flood.  If  thou  dost  be- 
lieve, that  puts  thee  in  Christ,  and  he  will 
bring  thee  safe  through  without  splitting  or 
sinking. 

As  thou  art  bound  to  account  thyself  safe 
in  him,  so  to  admire  that  love  which  set  thee 
there.  Noah  was  a  holy  man  :  but  whence 
were  both  his  holiness  and  his  preservation 
while  the  world  perished,  but  because  he 
found  favor  or  free  o;racc,  as  the  word  is,  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Lord  ?  And  no  doubt,  he  did 
much  contemplate  this,  being  secure  within, 
when  the  cries  of  the  rest  drowning  were 
about  him.  Thus  think  thou  ;  "  Seeing  sc 
few  are  saved  in  this  blessed  Ark  wherein  I 
am,  in  comparison  of  the  multitudes  that  per- 
ish  in  the  deluge,  whence  is  this  ?  why  was 
I  chosen,  and  so  many  about  me  left  ?  whi  , 
but  because  it  pleased  him  ?"  But  all  is  stra  I 
here.  We  have  neither  hearts  nor  time  f" 
ample  thoughts  of  this  love,  till  we  be  beyord 
time  ;  then  shall  we  admire  and  praise  wit  i- 
out  ceasing,  and  without  wearying. 

As  the  example  the  a])ostle  here  makes  use 
of,  is  great  and  remarkable,  so.  Thirdly,  it  is 
fit  and  suitable  for  the  instruction  of  Chris- 
tians to  whom  he  proceeds  to  adapt  and  apply 
it,  in  the  particular  resemblance  of  it  to  iht 
rule  of  Christianity.  The  Uhe  f<rure  where' 
unto,  even  baptism,  doth  also  noiv  save  us. 

In  these  words  we  have,  I.  The  End  of 
Baptism.    II.  The  proper  virtue  or  efliicacy 
of  it  for  that  End.    And,  III.  A  resemblanc 
in  both  these  to  Noah's  preservation  in  the 
Flood. 

I.  The  end  of  baptism,  to  save  vs.  This 
is  the  great  common  end  of  all  the  ordinances 
!  of  God  :  that  one  high  mark  they  all  aim  at. 
'  And  the  great  and  common  mistake  in  regard 
1  to  them  is,  that  they  are  not  so  understood 


Ver.  19—21.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


273 


and  used.  We  come  and  sit  awhile,  and,  if 
we  can  keep  awake,  give  the  word  the  hear- 
ing ;  but  how  few  of  us  receive  it  as  the  in- 
grafted word  that  is  able  to  save  our  souls  ! 
Were  it  thus  taken,  what  sweetness  would 
be  found  in  it,  which  most  who  hear  and  read 
it  are  strangers  to  I  How  precious  would 
those  lines  be,  if  we  looked  on  them  thus  and 
saw  them  meeting  and  concentring  in  salva- 
tion as  their  end  !  Thus,  likewise,  were  the 
sacraments  considered  indeed  as  seals  of  this 
inheritance,  annexed  to  the  great  charter  of 
it,  seals  of  salvation,  this  would  powerfully 
beget  a  fit  appetite  for  the  Lord's  Supper, 
when  we  are  invited  to  it,  and  would  beget 
d  due  esteem  of  baptism  ;  would  teach  you 
more  frequent  and  fruitful  thoughts  of  your 
own  baptism,  and  more  pious  considerations 
of  it  when  you  require  it  for  your  ciiildren. 
A  natural  eye  looks  upon  bread,  and  wine, 
and  waier,  and  sees  the  outward  difference 
of  their  use  there,  that  they  are  set  apart  and 
differenced  (as  is  evident  by  external  circum- 
stances) from  their  common  use  ;  but  the  main 
of  the  difference,  wherein  their  excellency 
lies,  it  sees  not,  as  the  eye  of  faith  above  that 
espies  salvation  under  them.  And  oh  !  what 
a  different  thing  are  they  to  it,  frotji  what 
they  are  to  a  fortnal  user  of  them  !  We 
should  aspire  to  know  the  hidden  rich  things 
of  God,  that  are  wrapped  up  in  his  (;rdinances. 
We  stick  in  the  shell  and  surface  of  them,  and 
seek  no  further  ;  that  makes  them  unbeauti- 
ful  and  unsavory  to  us,  and  that  use  of  them 
turns  into  an  empty  custom.  Let  us  be  more 
earnest  with  him  who  hath  appointed  them, 
and  made  this  their  end,  to  save  us,  liiat  he 
would  clear  up  the  eye  of  our  souls,  to  see 
them  thus  under  this  relation,  and  to  sec  how 
they  are  suited  to  this  their  end,  and  tend  to 
it.  And  let  us  seriously  seek  salvation  in 
them,  from  his  own  hand,  and  we  shall  find 
it. 

Doth  save  us.]  So  that  this  salvation  of 
Noah  and  his  fatnily  from  the  deluire,  and  all 
outward  deliverances  and  salvations,  are  but 
dark  shad(jws  of  this.  Let  them  not  be  spo- 
ken of,  these  reprisals  and  prolongings  cjf  this 

•  present  lite,  in  comparison  of  the  deliverance 
of  the  soul  from  death,  the  second  death  ;  the 
stretching  of  a  moment,  cotni)ared  to  the  con- 
cernment oteteriiity.  How  would  any  of  you 
welcome  a  full  and  sure  protection  from  com- 
mon dangers,  if  iwh  were  to  be  had,  that  you 
should  be  ascertained  of  safety  from  sword 
and  pestilence  ;  that  whatever  others  suffered 
about  you,  you  and  your  family  should  be 
free  !  And  those  who  have  escaped  a  near 
danger  of  this  kind  are  apt  to  rest  there,  as 
if  no  more  were  to  be  feared  ;  whereas  this 
common  favor  may  be  shown  to  those  who 
are  afar  off  from  God.  And  what  though  you 
be  not  only  thus  far  safe,  but  I  say,  if  you 
were  secured  for  the  future  (which  none  of 
you  absolutely  are),  yet,  when  you  are  put 

■  out  of  danger  of  sword  and  pla<rue,  still  death 
remains,  and  sin  and  wrath  may  be  remain- 
35 


ing  with  it.    And  shall  it  not  be  all  one,  to 
die  under  these  in  a  time  of  public  peace  and 
welfare,  as  if  it  were  now  ?    Yea,  it  may  be 
something  more  unhappy,  by  reason  of  the 
increase  of  the  heap  of  sin  and  wrath,  guilti- 
ness being  augmented  by  life  prolonged  ;  and 
more  grievous  to  be  pulled  away  from  the 
world  in  the  midst  of  peaceable  enjoyment, 
and  to  have  everlasting  darkness  succeed  to 
that  short  sunshine  of  thy  day  of  ease  ;  hap- 
piness of  a  short  date,  and  misery  for  ever  ! 
What  availed  it  wicked  Ham  to  outlive  the 
I  flood,  to  inherit  a  curse  after  it :  to  be  kept 
undrowned  in  the  waters,  to  see  hiiuself  and 
J  his  posterity  blasted  with  his  father's  curse  ? 
j  Think  seriously,  what  will  be  the  end  of  all 
j  thy  temporary  safety  and  preservation,  if  thou 
j  share  not  in  this  salvation,  and  find  not  thy- 
I  self  sealed  and  marked  tor  it  ?    What  will  it 
j  avail,  to  flatter  thyself  with  a  dream  of  hap 
piness,  and  ivalk  in  the  lii^ht  of  a  few  sparks 
that  will  soon  die  out,  and  then  lie  down  in 
sorrow?  Isai.  1.  11.    A  sad  bed  that,  which 
the  most  have  to  go  to,  after  they  have  wea- 
ried themselves  all  the  day,  all  their  life,  in  a 
chase  of  vanity  ! 

II.  The  next  thing  is,  the  power  and  virtue 
of  this  means  for  its  end.  That  baptism  hath 
a  power,  is  clear,  in  that  it  is  so  expressly 
said,  it  doth  save  ms  :  what  kind  of  power  is 
equally  clear  from  the  way  it  is  here  ex 
pressed  :  not  by  a  natural  force  of  the  ele- 
ment :  though  adapted  and  sacrameiitally 
used,  it  can  only  wash  away  the  filth  of  the 
b<jdy  :  its  physical  efficacy  or  power  reaches 
j  no  further :  but  it  is  in  the  hand  of  the  Spirit 
I  of  God,  as  other  sacraments  are,  and  as*ihe 
word  itself  is,  to  purify  the  conscience,  and 
convey  grace  and  salvation  to  the  soul,  by  the 
reference  it  hath  to,  and  union  with,  that 
which  it  represents.  It  saves  bij  the  answer 
of  a  good  conscience  unto  God,  and  it  affords 
that,  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  from  the 
dead. 

Thus,  then,  we  have  a  true  account  ol  the 
power  of  this,  and  so  of  other  sacraments,  and 
a  discovery  of  the  error  of  two  extremes  :  (] .) 
Of  those  who  ascribe  too  much  to  them,.as  if 

]  they  wrought  by  a  natural  inherent  virtue, 
and  carried  grace  in  them  inseparably.  (2.) 
Of  those  who  ascribe  too  little  to  tiiem,  ma- 
king them  only  signs  and  badges  uf  our  pro- 
fession. Signs  they  are,  but  more  than  signs 
merely  representing  :  they  are  metms  exhib- 
iting, and  seals  confirming,  arace  to  the  faith- 

I  ful.  But  the  working  of  faith,  and  the  con- 
veying of  Christ  into  the  soul  to  be  received 
by  faith,  is  not  a  thing  put  into  them  to  do  of 
themselves,  but  still  in  tlie  Supreme  Hand 
that  appointed  them ;  and  he  indeed  both 
causes  the  souls  of  his  own  to  receive  these 
his  seals  with  faith,  and  makes  them  effectual 

I  to  confirm  that  faith  which  receives  tiiem  so. 

'  They  are  then,  in  a  word,  neither  empty  signs 
to  them  who  believe,  nor  effectual  causes  of 
grace  to  them  wiio  lielicve  not. 

I     The  mistake,  on  botli  sides,  arises  from  the 


274 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chai  III. 


•want  of  duly  considrriiiir  tlu'  relative  nature 
of  these  seals,  ami  that  kind  of  union  that  is 
between  them  and  the  giai;e  they  represent, 
which  is  real,  though  not  natural  or  [)hysical, 
as  they  speak,  so  that,  though  thev  do  not 
save  all  who  partake  of  iheiu,  yet  they  do  re- 
ally and  elfeclually  save  helievers  (for  whose 
salvation  tiiey  are  means),  as  the  other  exter- 
nal ordinanees  of  God  do.  Though  they  have 
not  that  power  which  is  peculiar  to  the  Au- 
thor of  them,  yet  a  power  they  have,  such  as 
befits  their  nature,  and  by  reason  of  which 
they  are  truly  said  to  sanctil'y  and  justify,  and 
so  to  save,  as  iheapostle  here  avers  of  baptism. 

Now,  tiiat  which  is  intended  for  our  help, 
our  carnal  minds  are  ready  to  turn  into  a  hin- 
derance  and  disadvantage.  The  Lord  repre- 
senting invisible  things  to  the  eye,  and  con- 
firming his  promises  even  by  visible  seals,  we 
are  apt  from  the  grossness  of  our  unspiritual 
hearts,  insiead  of  stepping  up  by  that  Avhich 
is  earthly,  to  the  Divine  spiritual  things  rep- 
resented, to  Slay  in  the  outward  element,  and 
go  no  further.  Therefore,  the  apostle,  to  lead 
us  into  the  inside  of  this  seal  of  baptism,  is 
very  clear  in  designating  the  effect  and  fruit 
of  it :  Not  (says  he)  the  pulting;  away  the 
jilth  of  the  jlesh  (and  water,  if  you  look  no  fur- 
ther,can  do  no  more) :  there  is  an  invisible  im- 
purity upon  our  nature,  cliiefly  on  our  invisi- 
ble part,  our  soul:  this  washing  means  the 
taking  away  of  that,  and  where  it  reaches  its 
true  elfect,  it  doth  so  purify  the  conscience, 
and  makes  it  good,  truly  so,  in  the  sight  of 
God,  who  is  the  judge  of  ii. 

Consider,  1.  It  is  a  pitiful  thing  to  see  the 
ignorance  of  the  most,  professing  Christianity, 
and  partaking  of  the  outward  seals  of  it,  yet 
not  knowing  what  they  mean  :  not  apprehend- 
ing the  spiritual  dignity  and  virtue  of  them. 
Blind  in  the  mystcncs  of  the  kiri£;dom,  they 
are  not  so  much  as  sensible  of  that  blindness. 
And  being  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  these 
holy  things,  they  can  not  have  a  due  esteem 
fif  them,  which  arises  out  of  the  view  of  their 
inward  worth  and  efficacy.  A  confused  fancy 
they  have  of  some  good  in  them,  and  this 
lising  to  the  other  extreme,  to  a  superstitious 
l  onfidence  in  the  simple  performance  and 
participation  of  them,  as  if  that  carried  some 
inseparable  virtue  with  it,  which  none  could 
miss  of,  who  are  sprinkled  with  the  waters 
of  baptism,  and  share  in  tiie  elements  of  bread 
and  wine  in  the  Lord's  Supper. 

And  what  is  the  utmost  plea  of  the  most 
for  their  title  to  heaven,  but  that  in  these 
relative  and  external  things  they  are  Chris- 
tians ;  that  they  are  baptized,  hear  the  word, 
and  are  admitted  to  the  Lord's  table? — Not 
considering  how  many  have  gone  through  all 
these,  who  yet  daily  are  going  on  in  the  ways 
of  death,  never  coming  near  Jesus  Christ,  who 
is  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and  the  hfe,  whom 
the  word,  and  the  seals  of  it,  hold  forth  to  be- 
lievers. And  they  are  washed  in  his  blood, 
and  quickened  with  his  life,  and  made  like 
him,  and  co-heirs  ol'  glory  with  him. 


2.  Even  those  who  have  some  clearer  no- 
tion of  the  nature  and  fruit  of  iho  seals  of 
grace,  yet  are  in  a  practical  error,  in  that  they 
look  not  with  due  diliL,ence  into  themselves, 
mquiring  after  the  efficiency  of  them  in  iheit 
hearts;  do  not  study  the  life  of  Christ,  tc 
know  more  what  it  is,  and  then,  to  search 
into  themselves  for  the  truth  and  the  growth 
of  that  life  within  them.  Is  it  not  an  unbe- 
coming  thing,  for  a  Christian  (when  he  is 
about  to  appear  be.fore  the  Lord  at  his  table, 
and  so  looks  somethina;  more  narrowly  with- 
in) to  find  as  little  faith,  as  little  Divine  affec- 
tion, a  heart  as  unmortified  to  the  world,  as 
cold  toward  Christ,  as  before  his  last  address 
to  the  same  table,  after  the  intervening,  pos- 
sibly, of  many  months  ;  in  which  time,  had 
he  been  careful  often  to  reflect  inward  on  his 
heart,  and  to  look  back  upon  that  new  sealing 
in  his  last  participation,  he  might  probably 
have  been  more  confurmaljle  ?  And,  truly,  as 
there  is  much  guiltiness  cleaves  to  us  in  this, 
so,  generally,  much  more  in  reference  to  this 
other  sacrament  that  is  here  the  apostle's  sub- 
ject, haftism,  which  being  but  once  adminis- 
tered, and  that  in  infancy,  is  very  seldom  and 
sligntly  considered  by  many,  even  real  Chris, 
tians.  And  so  we  are  at  a  loss  in  that  profit 
and  comfort,  that  increase  of  both  holiness 
and  faith,  which  the  frequent  recollecting  of 
it,  after  a  spiritual  manner,  would  no  doubt 
advance  us  to.  And  not  only  do  we  neglect 
to  put  ourselves  upon  the  thoushts  of  it  in 
private,  but,  in  the  frequent  opportunities  of 
such  thiiughts  in  public,  we  let  it  pass 
unregarded,  are  idle,  inconsiderate,  and  so 
truly  guilty  beholders.  And  the  more  fre- 
quently we  have  these  opportunities,  the 
less  are  we  touched  with  tiiem  ;  they  be- 
come common,  and  work  not,  and  the  slight- 
ing of  tiiem  grows  as  common  with  us  as 
the  thing.  Yea,  when  the,  engagement  is 
more  special  and  personal,  when  parents  are 
to  present  their  inf'ants  to  this  ordinance  (and 
then  might,  and  certainly  ought  to  have  a 
more  particular  and  fixed  eye  upon  it,  and 
themselves  as  being  sealed  with  it,  to  ask 
within  after  the  fruit  and  power  of  it,  and  to 
stir  up  themselves  anew  to  the  actings  of 
faith,  and  to  ambition  after  newness  of  life, 
and,  with  earnest  prayer  for  their  children, 
to  be  suiters  for  themselves,  for  further  evi- 
dence of  their  interest  in  Christ)  ;  yet  possibly 
many  are  not  much  engaged  in  ihese  things 
even  at  such  times,  but  are  more  busied  to 
prepare  their  house  for  entertaining  their 
friends,  than  to  prepare  their  hearts  for  offer- 
ing up  their  inf\int  unto  God  to  be  sealed,  and 
withal  to  make  a  new  oflcr  of  their  own 
hearts  to  him,  to  have  renewed  on  them  the 
inward  seal  of  the  covenant  of  grace,  the  out- 
ward seal  whereof  they  did  receive,  as  it  is 

,  now  to  be  conferred  upon  their  infant. 

Did  we  often  look  upon  the  face  of  our 

'  souls,  the  beholding  of  the  many  spots  with 
which  we  b.iTe  defiled  them  after  our  wash 

i  ing,  might  work  us  to  shame  and  grief,  and 


Ver.  1£  -21.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


275 


would  drive  us  by  renewed  application  to  I 
wash  often  in  tiat  blood  which  that  water 
figures,  which  a  one  can  fetch  out  the  stain 
of  sin  :  and  then,  it  would  put  us  upon  re- 
newed purposes  of  purity,  to  walk  more 
carefully,  to  avoid  the  pollutions  of  the  world 
we  walk  in,  and  to  purge  out  the  pollutions 
of  the  hearts  that  we  carry  about  with  us, 
which  defile  us  more  than  all  the  world  be- 
sides. It  would  work  a  holy  disdain  of  sin, 
often  to  contemplate  ourselves  as  washed  in 
so  precious  a  laver.  Shall  I,  would  the  Chris- 
tian say,  considering  that  I  am  now  cleansed 
in  the  precious  blood  of  my  Lord  Jesus,  run 
again  into  that  puddle  out  of  which  he  so 
graciously  took  me,  and  made  me  clean  ? 
Let  the  swine  wallow  in  it :  he  hath  made  me 
of  his  sheep-fold.  He  hath  made  me  of  that 
excellent  order  for  which  all  areconsecrated  by 
that  washing,  who  partake  of  it :  he  hath  toash- 
ed  us  in  his  hlond,  and  made  us  kinss  and 
priests  unto  Gnd  the  Father.  Am  I  of  these, 
and  shall  I  debase  myself  to  the  vile  pleasures 
of  sin  ?  No,  I  will  think  myself  too  good  to 
serve  any  sinful  lusts:  seeing  that  he  hath 
looked  on  me,  and  taken  me  up,  and  washed 
and  dignified  me,  and  that  I  am  wholly  his, 
all  my  study  and  business  shall  be,  to  honor 
and  magnify  him. 

The  answer  of  a  good  conscience,  &c.]  The 
takmg  away  of  spiritual  filthiness,  as  the 
true  and  saving  effect  of  baptism,  the  apostle 
here  expresses  by  that  which  is  the  further 
result  and  effect  of  it,  the  answer  of  a  good 
conscience  vntn  Gnd;  for  it  is  the  washing 
away  of  that  filthiness  which  both  makes 
the  conscience  good,  and  in  making  it  such, 
fits  it  to  make  answer  unto  God.  A  good  con- 
science, in  its  full  sense,  is  a  pure  conscience 
and  a  peaceable  conscience  ;  and  it  can  not, 
indeed,  be  peaceably  good,  unless  it  be  pure- 
ly good.  And  although,  on  the  other  side,  it 
may  want  the  present  enjoyment  of  peace, 
being  purified,  yet,  certainly,  in  a  purified 
conscience,  there  is  a  title  and  right  to  peace  ; 
it  is  radically  there,  even  when  it  appears 
not ;  and,  in  due  time,  it  shall  appear,  shall 
spring  forth,  bud,  and  flourish. 

The  purified  and  good  condition  of  the 
whole  soul  may  well,  as  here  it  doth,  go  un- 
der the  name  of  the  good  conscience,  it  be- 
ing so  prime  a  faculty  of  it,  and  as  the  glass 
of  the  whole  soul,  wherein  the  estate  of  it 
is  represented.  Therefore,  Heh.  ix.,  the  ef- 
ficacy of  the  blood  of  Christ  is  expressed 
thus,  that  it  purificth  our  consciences  from 
dead  works;  which  expression  is  the  same 
thing  in  effect  with  that  here,  the  answer  of 
a  good  conscience  unlo  God. 

The  answer  {--'nMrqiia].  the  asking  or  ques- 
lionmg  of  conscience,  which  comprises  like- 
wise it.*  answer :  for  the  word  intends  the 
whole  correspondence  of  the  conscience  with 
(lod,  and  with  itself  as  toward  God,  or  in  ) 
the  sight  of  God.  And  indeed,  God's  ques- 
tioning it,  is  by  itself;  it  is  his  deputy  in  the 
X)ui.    He  makes  it  pose  itself  for  him,  and 


before  him,  concerning  its  own  condition, 
and  so,  the  answer  it  gives  itself  in  that  pos- 
ture, he  as  it  were  silting  and  hearing  it  in 
his  presence,  is  an  answer  made  unto  him. 
This  questioning  and  answering  (if  such  a 
thing  were  at  this  time,  as  it  was  certainly 
soon  after),  yet  means  not  the  questions  and 
answers  used  in  the  baptism  of  persons  who, 
being  of  years,  professed  their  faith  in  an- 
swering the  questions  moved  ;  it  possibly  al- 
ludes unto  that ;  but  it  further,  by  way  of 
resemblance,  expresses  the  inward  question- 
ing and  answering  which  is  transacted  with- 
in, betwixt  the  soul  and  itself,  and  the  soul 
and  God,  and  so  is  allusively  called  i-cpwrnfia, 
a  questioning  and  answering,  but  it  is  dis- 
tinctively specified,  cis  Ssiiv :  whereas  the  oth- 
er was  toward  men,  this  is  unto  God. 

A  good  conscience  is  a  waking,  speaking 
conscience,  and  the  conscience  that  questions 
itself  most,  is  of  all  sorts  the  best  ;  that 
which  is  dumb,  therefore,  or  asleep,  and  is 
not  active  and  frequent  in  self-inquiries,  is 
not  a  good  conscience.  The  word  is  judi- 
cial, trto .'.ri)u,j,  alluding  to  the  wjcrrogation 
used  in  law  for  the  trial  and  executing  of 
processes.  And  this  is  the  great  business  of 
conscience,  to  sit,  and  examine,  and  judge 
within  ;  to  ho/d  courts  in  the  soul.  And  it 
is  of  continual  necessity  that  it  be  so:  there 
can  be  no  vacation  of  this  judicature,  with- 
out great  damage  to  the  estate  of  the  soul  ; 
yea,  not  a  day  ought  to  pass  without  a  ses- 
sion of  conscience  within  :  for  daily  disor- 
ders arise  in  the  soul,  which,  if  they  pass  on, 
will  grow  and  gather  more,  and  so  breed 
more  diflSculty  in  their  trial  and  redress.  Yet 
men  do  easily  turn  from  this  work  as  hard 
and  unpleasant,  and  make  many  a  long  vaca- 
tion in  the  year,  and  protract  it  from  one  day 
to  another.  In  the  morning  they  must  go 
about  their  business,  and  at  night,  they  are 
weary  and  sleepy,  and  all  the  day  long  one 
affair  steps  in  after  another  ;  and  in  case  of 
that  failing,  some  trifling  company  or  other; 
and  so  their  days  pass  on,  while  the  soul  is 
overgrown  with  impunities  and  disorders. 

You  know  what  confusions,  and  disorders, 
and  evils,  will  abound  among  a  rude  people, 
where  there  is  no  kind  of  court  or  judicature 
held.  Thus  is  it  with  that  unruly  rabble, 
the  lusts  and  passions  of  our  souls,  when 
there  is  no  discipline  or  judgment  within,  or 
where  there  is  but  a  neglect  and  intermission 
of  it  for  a  short  lime.  And  the  most  part  of 
souls  are  in  the  posture  of  ruin  :  their  vile 
affections,  as  a  headstrong,  tumultuous  mul- 
titude, that  will  not  suffer  a  deputed  judge  to 
sit  among  them,  cry  down  their  consciences, 
and  make  a  continual  noise,  that  the  voice 
of  it  may  not  be  heard,  and  so,  force  it  to  de- 
sist and  leav(!  them  to  their  own  ways. 
But  you  who  take  this  course,  know,  you 
j  are  providing  the  severest  judgment  for  your- 
selves by  this  disturbing  of  judgment,  as 
when  a  peojjle  ris(!  against  an  inferior  judge, 
the  prince  or  supreme  magis'rate  who  sent 


276 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  lU. 


him,  hearing  of  it,  doth  not  fail  to  vindicate 
his  1  onor  and  justice  in  their  exemplary  pun- 
ishment. 

Will  you  not  answer  unto  conscience,  but, 
when  it  bej^ins  to  speak,  turn  to  business  or 
company,  that  you  may  not  hear  it  ?  Know, 
that  it  apd  you  must  answer  unto  God  ;  and 
when  lie  shall  make  inquiry,  it  nmst  report, 
iiid  report  as  the  truth  is,  knowinsj  that  there 
IS  no  liiding  the  matter  from  him  ;  Lord, 
there  are,  to  my  knowledge,  a  world  of  enor- 
mities within  the  circuit  I  had  to  judge,  and 
I  would  have  judged  them,  but  was  forcibly 
withstood  and  interrupted  ;  and  was  not 
strong  enough  to  resist  the  tumultuous  power 
that  rose  against  me  ;  now  the  matter  comes 
into  thine  own  hand  to  judge  itihyself.  What 
shall  the  soul  say  in  that  day,  when  con- 
science shall  make  such  an  answer  unto 
God,  and  it  shall  come  under  the  severity  of 
his  justice  for  all  ?  Whereas,  if  it  had  given 
way  to  the  conscience  to  find  out,  and  judge, 
and  rectify  matters,  so  that  it  could  have  an- 
swered concerning  its  procedure  that  way, 
God  would  accept  this  as  the  answer  of  a 
good  conscience,  and  what  conscience  had 
done,  he  would  not  do  over  again:  It  hath 
judged  ;  then,  I  acquit.  For  if  we  u-ould 
Tudge  ourselves  (says  the  apostle),  we  should 
not  he  judged.    1  Cor.  xi.  'Al. 

The  questioning  or  inquiry  of  conscience, 
and  so,  its  report  or  answer  unto  God,  extends 
to  all  the  affairs  of  the  soul,  all  the  affections 
and  motions  of  it,  and  all  the  actions  and 
carriage  of  the  whole  man.  The  open  wick- 
edness of  the  most,  testifies  against  them,  that 
though  sprinkled  with  water  in  baptism,  yet 
they  are  strangers  to  the  power  and  gracious 
efTicacy  of  it.  Not  being  baptized  with  the 
Holy  Ghost  and  icith  fire,  they  have  still 
their  dross  and  filth  remaining  in  them,  and 
nothing  else  appearing  in  their  ways  ;  so  that 
their  consciences  can  not  so  much  as  make  a 
good  answer  for  them  unto  men,  much  less 
untc  God.  What  shall  it  answer  for  them, 
being  judged,  but  that  they  are  swearers,  and 
cursers,  and  druakards,  or  unclean  ?  or  that 
they  are  slanderers,  deli:;hting  to  pass  their 
hours  in  descanting  on  the  actions  and  ways 
of  others,  and  looking  through  the  miscolored 
glass  of  their  own  malice  and  pride;  that 
they  are  neglecters  of  God  and  holy  things, 
lovers  of  themselves  and  their  own  pleasures, 
more  than  lovers  of  God  ?  And  have  such 
as  these  impudence  enough  to  call  themselves 
Christians,  and  to  pretend  themselves  to  be 
such  as  are  washed  in  the  blood  of  Christ? 
Yes,  they  do  this..  But  be  ashamed  and  con- 
founded in  yourselves,  you  that  remain  in  this  j 
condition.  Yea,  although  thou  art  blame- 
less in  men's  eyes,  and  possibly  in  thy  own 
eyes  too,  yet  thou  niayest  be  fillhij  still  in  the 
sight  of  God.  There  is  such  a  generation,  a 
multitude  of  them,  that  are  jivre  in  their  own  [ 
eyes,  and  yet  are  not  washed  from  their  Jilthi-  ] 
ness  (Prov.  xxx.  12)  ;  moral  evil  persons  who 
are  most  satisfied  with  their  own  estate,  or . 


such  as  have  I'urther  a  form  of  godliness,  but 
their  lusts  are  not  mortified  by  th(  poirer  of 
it,  secret  pride,  and  earthiiness  of  mind,  and 
vain  glor'  and  carnal  wisdom,  being  still  en- 
tertained wiin  ,  leasurf^  within. 

These  are  foul  pollutions,  lilihy  and  hatefui 
in  the  sight  of  Gud  ;  so  thai  there  it  is  thus, 
that  such  guests  are  in  jieaceable  possession 
of  the  heart,  there  the  blood  and  Spirit  of 
Christ  are  not  yet  come  :  neither  can  there 
be  this  answer  of  a  good  conscience  unto  God. 

This  ansu'er  of  a  good  conscience  unto  God, 
as  likewise  its  questioning,  to  enable  itself 
for  that  answer,  is  touching  two  great  points, 
which  are  of  chief  concern  to  the  soul,  its 
jvstif  cation,  and  its  sanctif  cation  ;  for  bap- 
tism is  the  seal  of  both,  and  purifies  the  con- 
science in  both  respects.  That  water  is  the 
figure  both  of  the  blood  and  the  water,  the 
justifying  blood  of  Christ,  and  the  pure  water 
of  the  sanctifying  Spirit  of  Christ  :  He  takes 
away  the  condemning  guiltiness  of  sin,  by 
the  one,  and  the  polluting  filthiness,  by  the 
other. 

Now,  the  conscience  of  a  real  believer  in- 
quiring within,  upon  right  discovery  will 
make  this  answer  unto  God:  Lord,  I  have 
found  that  there  is  no  standing  before  thee, 
for  the  soul  in  itself  is  overwhelmed  with  a 
world  of  guiltiness  :  but  I  find  a  blood  sprink- 
led upon  it,  that  hath,  I  am  sure,  virtue  enough 
to  purge  it  all  away,  and  to  present  it  pure 
unto  thee  :  and  I  know  that  wheresoever  thou 
findest  that  blood  sprinkled,  thine  anger  is 
quenched  and  appeased  immediately  upon  the 
sight  of  it.  Thine  hand  can  not  smite  where 
that  blood  is  before  thine  eye. — And  this  the 
Lord  does  agree  to,  and  authorizes  the  con- 
science, upon  this  account,  to  return  back  an 
answer  of  safety  and  peace  to  the  soul. 

So  for  the  other  point:  Lord,  I  find  a  livinf 
work  of  holiness  on  this  soul :  though  there 
is  yet  corruption  there,  yet  it  is  as  a  continual 
grief  and  vexation,  it  is  an  implacable  hatred, 
there  is  no  peace  between  them,  but  continual 
enmity  and  hostility  ;  and  if  I  can  not  say 
much  of  the  high  degrees  of  grace,  and  faith 
in  Christ,  and  love  to  him,  and  heavenliness 
of  mind,  yet,  I  may  say,  there  is  a  beginning 
of  these :  at  least,  this  I  most  confidently  af- 
firm, that  there  are  real  and  earnest  desires 
of  the  soul  after  these  things.  It  would  know 
and  conform  to  thy  will,  and  be  delivered 
from  itself  and  its  own  will  ;  and  though  it 
were  to  the  highest  displeasure  of  all  the 
world,  it  would  gladly  walk  in  all  well-pleas- 
ing unto  thee.  Now,  he  who  sees  the  truth 
of  these  things,  knowing  it  to  be  thus,  ownt 
it  as  his  own  work,  and  engages  himself  to 
advance  it,  and  bring  it  to  perfection.  This 
is  a  taste  of  that  intercourse  which  the  purifi- 
ed conscience  hath  with  God,  as  the  saving 
fruit  of  baptism. 

And  all  this  it  doth,  not  of  itself,  but  by 
virtue  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ, 
which  refers  both  to  the  remote  effect,  sal- 
vation, and  to  the  nearer  effect,  as  a  means 


VuR.  19—21.1 


FIKST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


and  pledge  of  that,  the  purifying  of  the  con- 
science. 

By  this  his  death,  and  the  effusion  of  his 
blood  in  his  sufferings,  are  not  excluded,  but 
are  included  in  it,  liis  resurrection  being  the 
evidence  of  that  whole  work  of  expiation,  both 
completed  and  accepted  :  full  payment  being 
made  by  our  surety,  and  so,  he  set  free,  his 
freedom  is  the  cause  and  the  assurance  of  ours. 
Therefore  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  expresses  it  so, 
that  He  died  fur  our  sins,  and  rose  for  our 
righteousness  ;  and  our  apostle  shows  us  the 
worth  of  our  living  hope  in  this  same  resurrec- 
tion, chap.  i.  ver.  3.  Blessed  he  the  God  and 
Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  u-ho  accord- 
ing to  his  abundant  merer/,  hath  begotten  us 
again  unto  a  lively  hope,  by  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus  Christ  from  the  dead. 

Now,  that  baptism  doth  apply  and  seal  to 
the  believer  his  interest  in  the  death  and 
resurrection  of  Christ,  the  Apostle  St.  Paul 
teaches  to  the  full,  Rom.  vi.  4  :  We  arc  buried 
with  him,  s»\s  he,  by  baptism  into  his  death, 
that  like  as  Christ  was  raised  up  from  the 
dead  by  the  glory  of  the  Father,  even  so  ice 
should  also  walk  in  newness  of  life.  The 
dipping  into  the  waters  representing  our  dy- 
mg  with  Christ ;  and  the  return  thence,  our 
rising  with  him. 

The  last  thing  is,  the  resemblance  of  bap- 
tism, in  these  things,  to  the  saving  of  Noah 
in  the  flood.  And  it  holds  in  that  we  spoke 
of  last ;  for  he  seemed  to  have  rather  entered 
into  a  grave,  as  dead,  than  into  a  safeguard 
of  life,  in  going  into  the  ark  :  yet,  being  buried 
there,  he  rose  airain,  as  it  were,  in  his  com- 
ing forth  to  begin  a  new  world.  The  waters 
of  the  flood  drowned  the  ungodly,  as  a  heap 
of  fllthiness  washed  them  away,  them  and 
their  sin  together  as  one,  being  inseparable  ; 
and  upon  the  same  waters,  the  ark  floating, 
preserved  Noah.  Thus,  the  waters  of  bap- 
tism are  intended  as  a  deluge  to  drown  sin 
and  to  save  the  believer,  who  by  faith  is  sei)a- 
rated  both  from  the  world  and  from  his  sin  ; 
so,  it  sinks,  and  he  is  saved. 

And  there  is,  further,  another  thing  specifi- 
^d  by  the  apostle,  wlierein,  though  it  be  a 
little  hard,  yet  he  chiefly  intends  the  parallel  ; 
the  fewness  at  those  that  are  saved  by  both. 
For  though  many  are  sprinkled  with  the  ele- 
mental water  of  baptism,  yet  few,  so  as  to 
attain  by  it  the  answer  of  a  good  conscience 
toward  God,  and  to  live  liy  pp'ticipation  of 
the  resurrection  and  life  of  Christ. 

'I'hou  that  seesl  the  worid  perishing  in  a 
deluge  of  wrath,  and  art  now  most  thought- 
ful for  this,  how  thou  shall  escape  it,  fly  into 
Christ  as  thy  safety,  and  rest  secure  there. 
Thou  shalt  find  life  in  his  death,  and  that  life 
furlher  ascertained  to  thee  iti  his  risina:  again. 
So  full  and  clear  a  title  to  life  hast  thou  in 
these  two,  that  thou  canst  challenge  all  ad- 
versaries upon  this  very  ground,  as  uncon- 
querable while  thou  standest  on  it,  and  mayest 
speak  thy  chai  engc  in  the  apostle's  style.  It 
IS  God  that  justtfieth,  who  sha^'  condemn  ? 


j  But  how  know  you  that  he  justifies  ?    It  ij 

Christ  that  died,  yea,  rather  that  is  risen,  who 
sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  who  also 
niaketh  intercession  for  us.  Rom.  viii.  33,  34. 
It  alludes  to  iliat  place,  Isa.  I.  8,  where  Christ 
speaks  of  himself,  but  in  the  name  of  ail  who 
adhere  to  him  ;  He  is  near  that  justifies  me  : 
who  is  he  that  will  contend  irith  me  ?  So  that 
what  Christ  speaks  there,  the  apostle,  with 
good  reason,  imparts  to  each  believer  as  in 
him.  If  no  more  is  to  be  laid  to  Christ's 
charge,  he  being  now  acquitted,  as  is  clear 
'  by  his  rising  asrain  ;  then,  neither  to  thine, 
who  art  clothed  with  him,  and  one  with  him. 

This  is  the  grand  answer  of  a  good  con- 
science :  and,  in  point  of  justifying  them  be- 
fore God,  there  can  be  no  answer  but  this. 
What  have  any  to  say  to  thee  ?  Thy  debt  is 
paid  by  him  who  undertook  it ;  and  he  is  free. 
Answer  all  accusations  with  this,  Christ  is 
risen. 

And  then,  for  the  mortifying  of  sin,  and 
strenffihening  of  thy  graces,  look  daily  on  that 
death  and  resurrection.  Study  them,  set  thine 
eye  upon  them,  till  thy  heart  lake  on  the 
impression  of  them  by  much  spiritual  and 
afleclionaie  looking  on  them.    Beholding  the 
glory  of  thy  Lord  Christ,  then,  be  transform- 
ed info  it.  2  Cor.  iii.  18.    It  is  not  only  a 
moral  pattern  or  copy,  but  an  eff'ectual  cause 
of  tliv  sanctification,  having  real  influence 
■  into  thv  soul.  Dead  with  him,  and  again  alive 
with  him!    Oh  hap[)in('ss  and  dii,niity  un- 
speakable, to  have  this  life  Known  and  clear- 
ed to  your  souls  !    If  it  were,  how  would  it 
make  vou  live  above  the  world,  and  all  the 
vain  luipes  and  fears  of  this  wretched  life, 
and  the  fear  of  death  itself!    Yea,  it  would 
make  that  visage  of  death  most  lovely,  which 
to  the  world  is  most  aflViL'htful. 
j     It  is  the  apostle's  maxim,  that  the  carnal 
mind  is  enmity  against  God  ;  and  as  it  is  uni- 
versally true  of  every  carnal  mind,  so  of  all 
the  motions  and  thoughts  (;f  it.    Even  where 
it  seems  to  agree  with  God,  yet  it  is  still  con- 
I  trary  :  if  it  acknowledge  and  conform  to  his 
!  ordinance,  yet,  even  in  so  doing,  it  is  on  direct- 
Iv  opposite  terms  to  him,  particularly  in  this, 
that  what  he  esteems  most  in  tlu'rn,  the  car- 
:  nal  mind  makes  least  account  of.    He  chiefly 
eyes  and  values  the  inside:  the  natural  man 
dwells  and  rests  in  the  shell  and  surface  of 
'  them.    God,  according  to  his  spiritual  nature, 
1  looks  mdst  on  the  more  spiritual  part  of  his 
^  Worship  and  worshippers  ;  the  carnal  mind  is 
in  this,  just  like  itself,  altogether  for  the  sen- 
sible, external  part,  and  unable  to  look  beyond 
;  it.    Therefcjre  the  apostle  here,  having  taken 
occasion  to  speak  of  baptism  in  terms  that 
[contain  a  parallel  and  resemblance  between 
it  and  the  flood,  is  express  in  correcting  this 
mistake.    It  is  not,  says  he,  the  putting  away 
of  the  fillh  of  the  flesh,  but  the  answer  of  a 
good  ronsciciice. 

Were  it  possible  to  persuade  you,  I  would 
recoMimend  one  thing  to  you  :  learn  to  look 
on  the  ordinances  of  God  suitably  to  their 


278 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Cbap.  m 


jiaTure,  spiritually,  and  inquire  atier  ihe  s])irit- 
ual  crtVol  and  woikiuij  of  llicni  upon  your 
conscirnccs.  Wc  would  \villin£;ly  have  all 
religion  ri'duced  lo  cxternalr; :  this  is  our  natu- 
ral clioire  :  and  we  Would  ]iay  all  in  thisciiin, 
as  cheaper  and  easier  by  tar,  and  would  eo'in- 
pound  tor  the  spiritual  pari,  rather  to  add  and 
give  more  external  ijerlorniance  and  eerc- 
niony.  Hence,  the  natural  coniplacenny  in 
popery,  which  is  all  for  this  service  of  the 
flesh  and  hody-services ;  and  to  those  pre- 
.scribed  by  God,  will  deal  so  liberally  with 
him  in  that  kind,  as  to  add  more,  and  frame 
new  devices  and  rites,  what  you  will  in  this 
kind,  sprinklings,  and  washings,  and  anoint- 
ings, and  incense.  But  whither  lends  all 
this?  Is  it  not  a  gross  mistaking  of  God,  to 
think  him  thus  pleased  ?  Or  is  it  not  a  direct 
artVont,  knowing  that  he  is  not  pleased  with 
these,  but  desires  another  thing,  to  thrust 
that  upon  him  which  he  cares  not  for,  and 
refuse  him  what  he  calls  for  ? — that  single, 
humble  heart-worshij)  and  walking  with  him, 
that  purity  of  spirit  and  conscience  which  only 
he  prizes ;  no  outward  service  being  accepta- 
ble, but  for  these,  as  they  tend  to  this  end  and 
do  attain  it.  Give  me,  saith  he,  nothing,  if 
you  give  not  this.  Oh  !  saith  the  carnal  mind, 
anything  but  this  thou  shalt  have  ;  as  many 
washings  and  ofTeringsas  thou  wilt,  thovsands 
o  f  rams,  and  ten  t/iousand  rivers  of  oil ;  yea, 
rather  than  fail,  let  the  fruit  of  my  body  go 
fur  the  sin  of  my  soul.  Mic.  vi.  6.  Thus  we  : 
will  the  outward  use  of  the  word  and  sacra- 
ments do  it?  then,  all  shall  be  well.  Baptized 
we  are  ;  and  shall  I  hear  much  and  com- 
municate often,  if  I  can  reach  it?  Shall  I  be 
exact  in  point  of  family-worship  ?  Shall  I 
pray  in  secret?  All  this  I  do,  or  at  least  I 
now  promise.  Ay,  but  when  all  that  is  done, 
there  is  yet  one  thing  may  be  wanting-,  and  if  it 
be  so,  all  that  amounts  to  nothing.  Is  thy  con- 
science purified,  and  made  good  by  all  these  : 
or  art  thoU  seeking  and  aiming  at  this,  by  the 
use  of  ail  means  ?  Then  certainly  thou  shalt 
•Ind  life  in  them.  But  does  thy  heart  still 
remain  uncleansed  from  the  old  ways,  not 
. purified  from  the  pollutions  of  the  world  ? 
Do  thy  beloved  sins  still  Iodide  with  thee,  and 
keep  possession  of  thy  heart  ?  Then  art 
thou  still  a  stranger  to  Christ,  and  an  enemy 
to  God.  The  word  and  seals  of  life  are  dead 
to  thee,  and  thou  art  still  dead  in  the  use  of 
them  all.  Know  you  not  that  many  have 
made  shipwreck  upon  the  very  rock  of  salva- 
tion ?  that  many  who  were  baptized  as  well 
as  \'ou,  and  as  constant  attendants  on  all  the 
worship  and  ordinances  of  (iod  as  you,  yet 
have  remained  without  Christ,  and  died  in 
their  sins,  and  are  now  past  recovery  ?  Oh 
that  you  would  be  warned  !  There  are  still 
multitudes  running  headlong  that  same  course, 
lending  to  destruction,  through  the  midst  of 
all  the  means  of  salvation  ;  the  saddest  way 
of  all  to  it,  through  word  and  sacraments,  and 
all  hewenly  ordinances,  to  be  walking  hell- 
ward  !    Christians,  and  jet  no  Christians; 


baptized,  and  yet  unbaptized  .  As  the  prophe 
takes  in  the  profane  mulliiude  of  God's  own 
people  with  the  nations,  Jcr.  ix.  26,  Egypt, 
and  Judiih,  and  Kdotn;  all  these  nations  an 
viicircii/iirisrd  :  and  the  worst  came  last  ;  ana 
(ill  Ihe  house  of  Israel  are  uncircurnciscd  in  the 
heart  :  thus,  the  most  of  us  are  unbai)tized 
in  the  heart.  And  as  this  is  the  waj  of  per- 
sonal destruction,  so  it  is  that,  as  the  pro]ihet 
there  declares,  which  brings  upon  thecliurch 
so  many  jiublic  judgments  :  and  as  the  apostle 
tells  the  Corinthians  (1  Kp.  xi.  30),  that  for 
the  abuse  of  the  Lord's  Table,  many  v:ere 
sick,  and  many  slept.  Ceriainly,  our  abuse 
of  the  holy  things  of  God,  and  want  of  iheir 
proper  spiritual  fruits,  are  among  ihe  prime 
sins  of  this  land,  for  which  so  many  slain  have 
fallen  in  the  fields  by  the  sword,  and  in  the 
streets  by  pestilence;  and  more  are  likely 
yet  to  fall,  if  we  thus  continue  to  provoke  tin 
Lord  lo  his  face.  For,  it  is  the  most  avowed 
direct  affront,  to  profane  bis  holy  things  :  am 
this  we  do  while  we  answer  not  their  prope. 
end,  and  are  nol  inwardly  sanctified  by  ihen» 
We  have  no  other  word,  nor  other  sacramentb., 
to  recommend  to  you,  than  those  which  you 
have  used  so  long  to  no  purpose  ;  only  we 
would  call  you  from  the  dead  forms,  to  seek 
the  living  power  of  them,  that  you  perish 
not. 

You  think  the  renoxincing  of  baptism  a 
horrible  word,  and  that  we  would  speak  so 
only  of  witches;  yet  it  is  a  common  guilti- 
ness that  cleaves  to  all  who  renounce  not  the 
filthy  lusts  and  the  self-will  of  their  own 
hearts.  For  baptism  carries  in  it  a  renoun- 
cing of  these  :  and  so,  the  cleaving  unto  these, 
is  a  renouncing  of  it.  Oh  !  we  all  were 
sealed  for  God  in  baptism;  but  who  lives  as 
if  it  was  so  ?  How  few  have  the  impressioj 
of  it  on  the  conscience,  and  the  expression 
of  it  in  the  walk  and  fruit  of  their  life !  We 
do  not,  as  clean-washed  persons,  abhor  and 
fly  all  pollutions,  All  fellowship  with  the  nn- 
frnitful  ivorks  of  darkness. 

We  have  been  a  long  time  hearers  of  the 
gospel,  whereof  baptism  is  the  seal,  and 
most  of  us  often  at  the  Lord's  Table.  What 
hath  all  this  done  upon  us?  Ask  within: 
Are  your  hearts  changed  ?  Is  there  a  new 
creation  there?  Where  is  that  spiritual- 
mindedness?  Are  your  hearts  dead  to  the 
world  and  sin,  and  alive  to  God,  your  con- 
sciences purged  from  dead  works  f 

What  means  you  ?  Is  not  this  the  end  of 
all  the  ordinances,  to  make  all  clean,  and  to 
renew  and  make  good  the  conscience,  to 
bring  the  soul  and  your  Lord  into  a  happy 
amity,  and  a  good  correspondence,  that  it 
may  not  only  be  on  speaking  terms,  but  often 
speak  and  converse  with  him  ?— may  have 
liberty  both  to  demand  and  answer,  as  the 
original  word  imjilies?  tb.at  it  may  speak  the 
language  of  faith  and  humble  obedience  unto 
Gc  d, and  that  he  may  speak  the  language  of 
jicace  to  it,  and  both,  the  language  of  the 
Lord  each  to  the  other  ? 


v^ER.  19—21.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


279 


That  conscience  alone  is  good,  which  is 
much  busied  in  this  work,  in  demanding  and 
answering  :  which  speaks  much  wiih  itself, 
and  much  with  God.  This  is  both  the  sign 
that  it  is  good,  and  the  means  to  make  it 
better.  That  soul  will  doubtless  be  very  wary 
in  its  walk,  which  takes  daily  account  of  it- 
self, and  renders  up  that  account  unto  God. 
It  will  not  live  by  guess,  but  naturally  exam- 
ine each  step  beforehand,  because  it  is  re- 
solved to  examine  all  after  ;  will  consider 
well  what  it  should  do,  because  it  means  to 
ask  over  again  what  it  haih  done,  and  not 
only  to  answer  itself,  but  to  make  a  faithful 
report  of  all  unio  God  ;  to  lay  all  before  him, 
continually  upon  trial  made  :  to  tell  him  what 
is  in  any  measure  well  done,  as  his  own 
•  work,  and  bless  him  for  that  ;  and  tell  him, 
too,  all  the  slips  and  miscarriages  of  the  day, 
as  our  own  ;  complaining  of  ourselves  in  his 
presence,  and  still  entreating  free  pardon, 
and  more  wisdom  to  walk  more  holily  and 
exactly,  and  gaining,  even  by  our  failings, 
more  humility  and  more  watchfulness. 

If  you  would  have  your  own  consciences 
answer  well,_they  must  inquire  and  question 
much  beforehand.  Whether  is  this  I  pur- 
pose and  f;o  about,  agreeable  to  my  Lord's 
will  ?  Will  it  please  liim  ?  Ask  that  more, 
and  regard  that  mure,  than  this,  which  the 
most  follow.  Will  it  please  or  profit  my- 
self? Fits  that  my  own  humor?  And  ex- 
amine not  only  the  bulk  and  substance  of  thy 
ways  and  actions,  but  the  manner  of  them, 
how  thy  iieart  is  set.  So  thnik  it  not  enough 
to  go  to  church  or  to  pray,  but  lake  hfrtl  how 
ye  hear  ;  consider  how  pure  he  is,  and  how 
piercing  his  eye,  whom  thou  servest. 

Then, again,  afterward:  think  it  not  enough, 
I  was  praying,  or  hearing,  or  reading,  it  was 
a  good  work,  what  need  I  question  it  further  ? 
No,  but  be  still  reflecting  jind  asking  how  it 
was  done:  How  have  I  heard,  how  have  I 
prayed  ?  Was  my  heart  humbled  bv  the  dis- 
coveries of  sin,  from  the  word  ?  Was  it  re- 
freshed with  the  promises  of  ijrace  ?  Did  it 
lie  level  under  the  word,  to  receive  the  stamp 
of  it  ?  Was  it  in  praver  set  and  kept  in  a 
holy  bent  toward  God  ?  Did  it  breathe  forth 
real  and  earnest  desires  into  his  ear:  or  was 
il  remiss,  and  roving,  and  dead  in  the  service  ? 
So  in  my  S(;ciety  with  others,  in  such  and 
such  company,  what  was  spent  of  my  time, 
and  how  did  I  employ  it  ?  Did  I  seek  to 
honor  my  Lord,  and  to  edify  my  brethren,  by 
my  carriage  and  speeches':  or' did  the  time 
run  out  in  triHing  vain  discourse?  When 
alone,  was  it  the  carriage  and  walk  of  my 
heart?  Where  it  hath  most  liberty  to  move 
in  its  own  pace,  is  it  dcliirhted  in  converse 
with  God  ?  Are  the  thoughts  of  heavenly 
things  frequent  and  sweet  lo  it :  or  does  it 
run  after  the  earth  and  the  delights  of  it, 
spinning  out  itself  in  impertinent  vain  con- 
trivances ? 

The  neglect  of  such  inquiries,  is  that  which 
entertains  and  increases  the  impurity  of  the 


soul,  so  that  men  are  afraid  to  look  mto  them- 
selves, and  to  look  up  to  God.  But  Oh  I  what 
a  foolish  course  is  tliis,  to  shift  off  what  can 
not  be  avoided  !  In  the  end,  answer  must  be 
made  to  that  all-seeing  Judge  with  whom 
1  we  have  to  do,  and  to  whom  we  owe  our 
I  accounts. 

And,  truly,  it  should  be  seriously  consid- 
ered, what   makes   this    good  conscience, 
which  makes  an   acceptable  answer  unto 
j  God.    That  appears  by  the  opposition,  not 
\  the  putting  away  the  filth  of  the  flesh  .  then, 
i  it  is  the  putting  away  of  soul-filthiness  ;  so 
,  it  is  the  renewing  and  purifying  of  the  con- 
'  science,  that  makes  it  good,  pure,  and  peace- 
able.   In  the  purifying,  it  may  be  troubled, 
j  which  is  but  the  stirring  in  cleansing  of  it, 
I  and  makes  more  quiet  in  the  end,  and  physic, 
]  or  the  lancing  of  a  sore  ;  and  after  it  is  in 
I  some  measure  cleansed,  it  may  have  fits  of 
{trouble,  wL'^Ii  yet  still  add  further  purity 
'  and  further  peace.    So  there  is  no  hazard  in 
I  that  work  ;  but  all  the  misery  is,  a  dead  se- 
I  curity  of  the  conscience  while  remaining  fil- 
I  thy,  and  yet  unstirred  :  or,  after  some  stir- 
ring or  pricking,  as  a  wound  not  thoroughly 
i  cured,  skinned  over,  which  will  but  breed 
I  more  vexation  in  the  end  ;  it  will  fester  and 
[  grow  more  difficult  to  be  cured,  and  if  it  ba 
cured,  it  must  be  by  deeper  cutting  and  more 
I)ain,  than  if  at  first  it  had  endured  a  thor- 
ough search. 

0,  my  brethren  !  take  heed  of  sleeping 
unto  death  in  carnal  ease.  Resolve  to  take 
no  rest  till  you  be  in  the  element  and  place 
of  soul-rest,  where  solid  rest  iiideeil  is.  Rest 
not  till  you  be  with  Christ.  Though  all  the 
world  should  oiler  their  best,  turn  them  by 
with  disdain  ;  if  they  will  not  be  turned  by, 
throw  them  down,  and  go  over  them,  and 
trample  upon  them.  Say  you  have  no  rest 
to  nrjve  me,  nor  will  I  take  any  at  your  hands, 
nor  from  any  creature.  There  is  no  rest  for 
me  till  I  be  under  his  shadow,  who  endured 
so  much  trouble  to  purchase  my  rest,  and 
whom  haviiiir  found,  I  may  sit  down  quiet 
and  satisfied  :  and  when  the  men  of  the 
world  make  boast  of  the  higliest  content,  I 
will  outvie  them  all  with  this  one  word,  my 
beloved  is  mine,  and  1  am  his. 

The  answer  of  a  good  conscience  toward 
dod.]  The  conscience  oi'man  is  never  right- 
ly at  peace  in  itself,  till  it  be  rightly  persuad- 
ed of  peace  with  God,  which,  while  it  re- 
mains filthy,  it  can  not  be:  for  he  is  holy, 
and  iniquity  can  not  dwell  with  him.  What 
communion  betwixt  light  and  darkness?  2tor. 
vi.  14.     So  then  the  conscience  must  be 
cleansed,  ere  it  can  look  ujion  God  with  as- 
surance and  peace.    This  cleansina;  is  sacra- 
meiitally  performed  by  baptism  ;  eflVclually, 
i  by  the  Sjiirit  of  Christ  and  the  b.ood  of 
I  Christ;  and  he  lives  to  impart  both  ;  thcre- 
I  fore  here  is  mentioned  his  resurrectijn  from 
I  the  dead,  as  that,  by  virtue  whereol  we  are 
assured  of  this  purifying  and  peace.  TRen 
I  can  the  conscience,  in  some  measure  with 


280 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[CiiAi.  m 


coifidence,  answer,  Lord,  tliougli  polluted 
by  lorintr  sins,  and  by  sin  still  dwelling  in 
nie,  yet  thou  sei-si  that  my  desires  are  to  be 
daily  more  like  my  Savior ;  I  would  have 
more  love  and  zeal  for  thee,  more  hatred  of" 
sia.  It  can  answer  with  St.  Peter,  when  he 
was  posed,  Loicst  thou  me  ?  Lord,  1  appeal 
to  thine  own  eye,  who  seest  my  heart  ;  Lord, 
t/iov  /{lu'tcrst  that  I  love  thee  ;  at  least  I  de- 
sire to  love  thee,  and  to  desire  thee  ;  and 
thai  is  love.  Willingly  would  I  do  ihec  more 
suitable  service,  and  honor  thy  name  more  : 
and  I  do  sincerely  desire  more  grace  for  this, 
that  thou  mayest  have  more  glory  :  and  I 
entreat  the  light  of  thy  countenance  for  this 
end,  that,  by  seeing  it,  my  heart  may  be  more 
weaned  IVoni  the  world,  and  knii  unto  thy- 
self. Thus  it  answers  touching  its  inward 
frame,  and  the  work  of  holiness  by  the  Spirit 
of  holiness  dwelling  in  it.  But,  to  answer 
justice,  touching  the  point  of  guilt,  it  flies 
the  Hood  of  sprmkltn!:,  fetches  all  its  answer 
.  thence,  turns  over  the  matter  upon  it,  and 
that  blood  answers  for  it  ;  for  it  dotli  speak, 
and  speak  Letter  things  than  the  blood  of  Abel, 
Heb.  xii.  24  ;  speaks  full  payment  of  all  that 
can  be  exacted  from  the  sinner;  and  that  is 
a  sufficient  answer. 

The  conscience  is  then,  in  this  point,  at 
first  made  speechless,  driven  to  a  nonplus  in 
itself,  hath  from  itself  no  answer  to  make  : 
but  then  it  turns  about  to  Christ,  and  finds 
what  to  say:  Lord,  there  is  indeed  in  me 
nothing  but  guiltiness  :  I  have  deserved  death : 
but  I  have  fled  into  the  city  of  refuge  which 
thou  hast  appointed  ;  there  I  resolve  to  abide, 
to  live  and  die  there.  If  justice  pursue  me, 
it  shall  find  me  there:  I  take  sanctuary  in 
Jesus.  The  arrest*laid  upon  me,  will  liffht 
upon  him,  and  he  hath  wlierewithal  to  an- 
swer it.  He  can  straightway  declare  he  hath 
paid  all,  and  can  make  it  good.  He  hath  the 
acquaintance  to  show:  yea,  his  own  liberty 
is  a  real  sign  of  it.  He  was  in  prison,  and 
is  let  free,  which  tells  that  all  is  satisfied. 
Therefore  the  answer  here  rises  out  of  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ. 

And  in  this  very  thing  lies  our  peace,  and 
our  way,  and  all  our  happiness.  Oh  !  it  is 
worth  your  time  and  pains,  to  try  your  in- 
terest in  this;  it  is  the  only  thing  worthy 
your  highest  diligence.  But  the  most  are 
out  of  their  wits,  running  like  a  number  of 
distracted  jiersons,  and  still  in  a  deal  of  liusi- 
ness,  but  to  what  end  they  know  not.  You 
are  unwillin?  to  be  deceived  in  those  things 
whRih,  at  their  best  and  surest,  do  but  de- 
ceive you  when  all  is  done  ;  but  are  content 
to  be  deceived  in  that  which  is  your  great 
concernment.  You  are  your  own  deceivers 
in  it;  gladly  gulled  with  shadows  of  faith 
and  repentance,  false  touches  of  sorrow,  and 
false  flashes  of  joy,  and  are  not  careful  to 
have  your  souls  really  unbottomed  from  them- 
selves, and  built  upon  Christ ;  to  have  him 
your  treasure,  your  righteousness,  vour  all, 
and  to  have  him  your  answer  uiuo  God  your 


Father.  But  if  you  will  yet  be  advised,  le' 
go  all,  to  lay  hold  on  him:  lay  your  souls  on 
him,  and  leave  hini  not.  He  is  a  tried  foun- 
dation-stone, and  he  that  trusts  on  Inrn,  shall 
not  be  confounded. 

Ver.  22.  Who  is  gone  into  heaven,  and  is  on  the 
right  hand  of  (iod  ;  angels,  and  authorities.,  and 
powers,  being  made  subject  unto  him. 

This  is  added  on  purpose  to  show  us  fur- 
ther, what  he  is,  how  high  and  glorious  a 
Savior  we  have ! 

We  have  here  four  points  or  steps  of  the 
exaltation  of  Christ : — 1.  Resurrection  from 
the  dead.  2.  Ascension  into  heaven.  3.  Sit- 
ting at  the  right  hand  of  God.  4.  In  that 
posture,  his  royal  authority  over  the  angels. 
The  particulars  are  clear  in  themselves.  Of 
the  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  you  are 
not  ignorant  that  it  is  a  borrowed  exiiression, 
drawn  from  earth  to  heaven,  to  bring  down 
some  notion  of  heaven  to  us;  to  signify  to 
us  in  our  language,  suitably  to  our  customs, 
the  supreme  dignity  of  Jesus  Christ,  God 
and  Man,  the  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant, 
his  matchless  nearness  unto  his  Father,  and 
the  sovereignty  given  him  over  heaven  and 
earth.  And  that  of  the  subjection  of  anacls, 
is  but  a  more  particular  specifying  of  that 
his  dignity  and  power,  as  enthroned  at  the 
Father's  right  hand,  they  being  the  most  el- 
evated and  glorious  creatures:  so  that  his 
authority  over  all  the  world  is  implied  in 
that  subjection  of  the  highest  and  noblest 
pan  of  it.  His  victory  and  triumph  over  the 
angels  of  darkness,  is  an  evidence  of  his  iil- 
vincible  power  and  greatness,  and  mailer  of 
comfort  to  his  saints  :  but  this  here  intends 
his  supremacy  over  the  glorious  elect  angels. 

That  there  is  among  them  priority,  we  find  ; 
that  there  is  a  comely  order  in  their  difl'er- 
ences,  can  not  be  doubted  ;  but  to  marshal 
their  degrees  and  stations  above,  is  a  point, 
no'  only  of  vain  fruitless  curiosity,  but  of  pre- 
sumptuous intrusion.  Whether  these  fire 
names  of  their  diflerent  particular  dignities, 
or  only  different  names  of  their  general  ex- 
cellency and  power,  as  I  think  it  can  not  be 
certainlv  well  determined,  so  it  imports  us 
not  to  determine:  only,  this  we  know,  and 
are  particularly  taught  from  this  place,  that 
whatsoever  is  their  common  dignity,  both  in 
names  and  differences,  they  are  all  subject  tn 
our  trlorious  Head,  Christ. 

What  confirmation  they  have  in  their  es- 
tate by  him  (tboush  piously  asserted  by  di- 
vines), is  not  so  infallibly  clear  from  the  al- 
leged scriptures,  which  may  bear  another 
sense.  But  this  is  certain,  that  he  is  their 
king,  and  they  acknowledse  him  to  be  so.  and 
do  incessantly  admire  and  adore  him.  They 
rejoice  in  his  glory,  and  in  the  glory  and  hap- 
piness of  mankind  throush  him.  They  yield 
liim  most  cheerful  obedience,  and  serve  hmi 
readilv  in  the  good  of  his  church,  and  of  each 
particular  believer,  as  he  deputes  and  employs 
them. 


V£R.  22.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


^81 


This  IS  the  thins:  here  intended,  having  in  it 
these  two:  his  dignity  above  them,  and  his 
authority  over  them. 

1.  Such  is  his  dignity,  that  even  that  nature 
which  he  stooped  below  tiiem  to  take  on,  he 
.  ath  carried  up  and  raised  above  them;  the 
="ery  earth,  the  flesh  of  man,  being  exalted  in 
.is  person  above  ail  those  heavenly  spirits, 
vho  are  of  so  excellent  and  pure  a  being  in 
.heir  nature,  and  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  have  been  clothed  with  so  transcend- 
ent glory.  A  parcel  of  clay  is  made  so  bright, 
and  set  so  high,  as  to  outshine  those  bright 
flaming  spirits,  those  Stars  of  the  morning, 
that  flesh  being  united  to  the  Fountain  of 
Light,  the  blessed  Deity  in  the  person  of  the 
Son. 

In  coming  to  fetch  and  put  on  this  garment, 
he  made  himself  lower  t/ian  the  ani^els  ;  but 
carrying  it  with  him,  at  his  return  to  his  eter- 
nal throne,  and  sitting  down  with  it  there,  it 
is  raised  high  above  them  ;  as  the  ajKistle 
teaches  excellently  and  amply  :  To  w/uch  of 
them  said  he,  Sil  on  my  right  hand  1  Heb. 
i.  2. 

This  they  look  upon  with  perpetual  won- 
der, but  not  with  envy  or  repining.  No,  among 
all  their  eyes,  no  such  eye  is  to  be  found.  Yea, 
they  rejoice  in  the  infinite  wisdom  of  God  in 
this  design,  and  his  infinite  love  to  poor  lost 
mankind.  It  is  wonderful,  indeed,  to  see  him 
filling  the  room  of  their  fallen  brethren  with 
new  guests  from  earth,  yea,  with  such  as  are 
born  heirs  of  hell  ;  but  that  not  only  sinful 
men  should  thus  be  raised  to  a  participation 
of  glory  with  tbeiii  wlio  are  spotless,  sinless 
spirits,  but  tbeir  flesh,  in  their  Redeemer, 
sliouid  be  dignified  with  a  glory  so  far  beyond 
ihern — ihis  is  that  mystery  the  angels  are  in- 
tent on  looking  and  prying  inio,  and  can  not, 
nor  ever  shall,  see  the  bottom  of  it,  for  it  hath 
Done. 

2.  Jesus  Christ  is  not  only  exalted  above 
the  angels  in  absolute  dignity,  but  in  relative 
authority  over  them.  He  is  made  captain 
over  those  heavenly  bands:  they  are  all  under 
his  command,  for  all  services  wherein  it 
pleases  him  to  employ  them!  and  the  great 
employment  he  hath,  is  the  attending  on  his 
church,  and  on  particular  elect  ones.  Are 
they  not  all  m/nistcring  siiir,:%  sent  forth  to 
minister  to  them  that  shall  be  heirs  of  solva- 
tion? Heb.  i.  nit.  They  arc  the  servanis  of 
Christ,  and  in  him,  and  at  his  appointment, 
the  servants  of  every  believer  :  and  are  many 
ways  serviceable  and  useful  for  their  jjood, 
which  truly  we  do  not  di.ly  consider.  There 
is  no  danger  of  overvaluing  them,  and  incli- 
ning to  worsiiip  ihem  upon  this  consideration  ; 
yea,  if  we  take  it  riglit,  it  will  rather  take  us 
off  from  that.  The  angel  judged  his  argu- 
ment strong  enough  to  St.  John  against  that, 
that  he  was  but  Ins  fcllotr-scnnint,  Rev.  xix. 
•.0.  But  this  is  more,  that  they  are  servants 
lO  UP,  althou;;li  not  tlieref(jre  inferior,  it  being 
an  honorary  service.  Vet  certainly  they  are 
ialerior  to  our  Head,  and  so,  to  his  iiiysti- 

36 


cal  body,  taken  in  that  notion,  as  a  part  of 
him. 

Eef  fiction  1.  The  height  of  this  our  Sa- 
vior's glory  will  appear  the  more,  it'  we  re- 
flect on  the  descent  from  which  he  ascended 
to  it.  Oh  !  how  low  did  we  bring  down  so 
hiirh  a  majesty,  into  the  pit  wherein  we  had 
fallen,  by  climbing  to  be  higher  than  he  had 
set  us  !  It  was  high  indeed,  as  we  were  fallen 
so  low,  and  yet  he,  against  whom  our  sin  was 
committed,  came  down  to  help  us  up  again, 
and  to  take  hold  of  us — took  us  on;  so  the 
word  \s{i-,>;,fjiiutTai]  Hebrews  ii.  16:  He  took 
not  hold  of  the  ange/s — let  them  go,  hath  left 
them  to  die  for  ever — but  he  took  hold  of  the 
seed  of  Abrahpin,  and  took  on  him  indeed 
their  flesh,  dwelling  among  us,  and  in  a  mean 
part.  He  emptied  himself,  i.  t  (Phil.  ii.  7), 
and  became  of  no  repute.  And  further,  after 
he  descended  to  the  earth,  and  into  our  flesh, 
in  it  he  became  obedient  to  death  upon  the 
cross,  and  descended  inio  the  grave.  And  by 
these  steps,  he  was  walking  toward  that 
glory  wherein  he  now  is  :  He  abased  himself, 
wherefore,  says  the  apostle,  God  hath  hushh/ 
exalted  him.  Phil.  ii.  8.  So  he  says  of  K'fJi- 
self,  Ou<rht  not  Christ  first  to  suffer  these 
thinffs,  and  so  enter  into  his  glory  ?  Luke 
xxiv.  26.  Now  this,  indeed,  it  is  pertinent  to 
consider.  The  apostle  is  here  upon  the  point 
of  Christ's  suff'erings  ;  that  is  his  theme,  and 
tlierefore  he  is  so  [larticular  in  the  ascending 
of  Christ  to  his  glory.  Who,  of  those  that 
would  come  thither,  will  refuse  to  follow 
him  in  the  way  wherein  he  led,  he,  [.i-M-'i/fK ) 
the  leader  of  our  faith?  Hebrews  xii.  2. 
And  who,  of  those  who  follow  him,  will 
not  love  and  delight  to  follow  him  through 
any  way,  the  lowest  and  darkest  ?  It  is 
excellent  and  safe,  and  then,  it  ends  you  see 
where. 

Reft.  2.  Think  not  strange  of  the  Lord's 
method  with  his  church,  in  bringing  her  to 
so  low  and  desperate  a  posture  many  times. 
Can  she  be  in  a  condition  more  seemingly 
desperate  than  was  her  Head — not  only  in  ig- 
nominious sufferings,  but  dead  and  laid  in  the 
grave,  and  the  stone  rolled  to  it  and  sealed, 
and  all  made  sure?  And  yet  he  arose  and 
ascended,  and  now  sits  in  glory,  and  shall  sit 
till  all  his  enemies  become  his  footslool.  Do 
not  fear  for  him,  that  they  shall  overtop,  yea, 
or  be  able  to  reach  him  who  is  exalted  higher 
than  the  heavens:  neither  be  afraid  for  his 
church,  which  is  his  body,  and,  if  her  Head 
be  safe  and  alive,  can  not  but  partake  of  safe- 
ty and  life  with  him.  Though  she  were,  to 
sight,  dead  and  laid  in  the  ijrave,  yet  shall 
she  arise  thence,  and  be  more  glorious  than 
before  (Isaiah  xxvi.  19)  :  and  still,  the  deeper 
her  distress,  shall  rise  the  higher  in  the  day 
of  deliverance. 

Thus,  in  his  dealing  with  a  soul,  observe 
the  Lord's  method.  Tliink  it  not  strange  that 
he  brings  a  soul  low,  very  low,  which  he 
means  tocomfVirt  and  exalt  very  high  in  grace 
and  glorv  ;  that  he  leads  it  by  hell-gates  to 


8S2 


A  COMMENIARY  UPON  THE 


[Chai-.  IV 


heaven  ;  thai  it  be  at  that  point,  My  God,  tin/ 
if/ti/  hiixi  thou  forsaken  inc  ?  Was  not 
the  Head  juu  to  use  that  word,  and  so  to 
speak  it,  as  tlic  head  speaks  for  the  hody, 
seasoning  it  for  his  members,  and  sweelening 
that  hitler  eup  bv  liis  own  drinking  of  il  ? 
Oil  !  what  a  liar  J  condition  may  a  soul  be 
brougiit  unto,  and  put  to  think.  Can  he  love 
me,  and  intend  mercy  for  me,  ivho  leaves  me 
10  this  ?  And  yet,  in  ail,  the  Lord  is  prepar- 
ing it  thus  for  comfort  and  blessedness. 

Rcjl.  3.  'I'urn  your  thoughts  more  frequently 
to  this  excellent  subject,  the  glorious  liigh  es- 
tate of  our  great  High  Priest.  The  angels  ad- 
mire this  mystery,  and  we  slight  it  I  They  re- 
joice in  it,  and  we,  whom  il  certainly  more  near- 
ly concerns,  are  not  moved  with  il  ;  we  do 
not  draw  that  comfort  and  instruction  from  it, 
which  it  would  plentil'ully  afford,  if  it  were 
sought  after.  It  would  comfort  us  against  all 
troubles  and  fears  to  reflect,  "  Is  he  not  on 
high,  who  hath  undertaken  for  us  ?  Doth 
anything  befall  us,  but  it  is  past  first  in  heav- 
en ?  And  shall  anything  pass  there  to  your 
prejudice  or  damage  ?  He  sits  there,  and  is 
upon  the  counsel  of  all,  who  hath  loved  us, 
and  given  himself  for  us  ;  yea,  who,  as  he  de- 
scended thence  for  us,  did  likewise  ascend 
thither  again  for  us.  He  hath  made  our  in- 
heritance which  he  purchased,  there  sure  to 
us,  taking  possession  for  us,  and  in  our  name, 
since  he  is  there,  not  only  as  the  Son  of  God, 
but  as  our  surely,  and  as  our  Head."  And  so 
the  believer  may  think  himself  even  already 
possessed  of  this  right,  inasmuch  as  his  Christ 
is  there.  The  saints  are  glorified  already  in 
their  Head.  Ubi  caput  meum  rcgnat  ibi  me 
regnare  credo  :  Where  he  reigns,  there  I  be- 
lieve mi/self  to  reign,  says  Augustine.  And 
consider,  in  all  thy  straits  and  troubles,  out- 
ward or  inward,  they  are  not  hid  from  him. 
He  knows  them,  and  feels  them,  thy  compas- 
sionate High  Priest  bath  a  gracious  sense  of 
thv  frailties  and  griefs,  fears,  and  temptations, 
and  will  not  sulfer  ihee  to  be  surcharged.  He 
is  still  presenting  thy  estate  to  the  Father, 
and  using  thai  interest  and  power  which  he 
hath  in  his  affection,  for  thy  good.  And  what 
wouldsl  thou  more  ?  Art  ihou  one  whose 
heart  desires  to  res'  upon  him,  and  cleave  to 
him  ?  Thou  art  knit  so  to  bim,  that  his  res- 
urrection and  glory  secure  thee  thine.  His 
life  and  ihiiiearenot  two,  but  one  life,  as  that 
of  the  head  and  members  ;  and  if  he  could  not 
he  overcome  of  death,  thou  canst  not  neither. 
Oh  I  that  sweet  word.  Because  I  live,  ye  shall 
live  also.  John  xiv.  19. 

Let  thy  tli(jugliis  and  carriage  be  moulded 
in  this  contemplation  rightly,  ever  to  look  on 
thy  exalted  Head.  Consider  his  glory  ;  see 
not  only  thy  nature  raised  in  bim  above  the 
angels,  but  thy  person  interested  by  faith  in 
that  his  glory  :  and  thes,  think  thyself  too 
good  to  serve  any  base  lust.  Look  down  on 
sin  and  the  world  with  a  holy  disdain,  being 
United  to  him  who  is  so  exalted  and  so  glori- 
ous.   And  let  not  thy  mind  creep  here  ;  en- 


gage not  thy  heart  to  anything  that  time  ana 
this  earth  can  afford.  Oh  !  why  are  we  so 
little  where  there  is  such  a  spring  of  delight- 
ful and  high  thoughts  for  us  ?  Jf  yc  be  risen 
u  ilh  Christ,  seek  those  things  which  are  above, 
vhere  he  sits.  Col.  iii.  1.  What  mean  you  ? 
Are  ye  such  as  will  let  go  your  interest  in  this 
once  crucified,  and  now  glorified  Jesus  ?  If 
not,  why  are  ye  not  more  conformable  to  it  ? 
Why  does  it  not  possess  your  hearts  more  ? 
Ought  it  not  to  be  thus?  Should  not  our 
hearts  be  where  our  treasure,  where  our  bles- 
sed Head  is  ?  Oh!  how  unreasonable,  bow  un- 
friendly is  it,  how  much  may  we  be  ashamed 
to  have  room  in  our  hearts  for  earnest  thoughts, 
or  desires,  or  delights,  about  anything  beside 
him  ? 

Were  this  deeply  wrought  upon  the  hearts 
of  those  that  have  a  right  in  it,  would  there 
be  found  in  them  any  attachment  to  the  poor 
things  that  are  passing  away  ?  Wi  uld  death 
be  a  terrible  word  ?  Yea,  would  it  not  be 
one  of  the  sweetest,  most  rejoicing  thoughts 
to  solace  and  ease  the  heart  under  all  pres- 
sures, to  look  forward  to  that  day  of  liberty  ? 
This  infectious  disease*'  may  keep  j)ossession 
of  all  the  winter,  and  grow  hot  with  the  year 
again.  Do  not  flatter  yourselves,  and  think 
it  is  past  ;  you  have  vet  remembering  strokes 
to  keep  it  in  your  eye.  But,  however,  shall 
we  abide  always  here?  Or  is  there  any  rea- 
son when  things  are  duly  weighed,  why  we 
should  desire  it  ?  Well,  if  you  would  be 
united  beforehand,  and  so  feel  your  separa- 
tion from  this  world  less,  this  is  the  only  way  : 
Look  up  to  him  who  draws  up  all  hearts  that 
do  indeed  behold  him.  Then,  I  say,  thy  heart 
shall  be  removed  beforehand  ;  and  the  rest  is 
easy  and  sweet.  When  that  is  done,  all  is 
gained.  And  consider,  how  he  desires  the 
completion  of  our  unjon  with  him.  Shall  it 
he  his  request  and  earnest  desire,  and  shall  it 
not  be  ours  too,  that  where  he  is,  there  we  may 
be  also  ?  John  xvii.  24.  Let  us  expect  it  with 
patient  submission,  yet  striving  by  desires  and 
suits,  and  looking  out  for  our  release  from  this 
body  of  sin  and  death. 


CHAPTER  fV. 

Ver.  1.  Forasmuch  then  as  Christ  hath  siiflered  lor 
us  in  the  fiesh,  arm  yourselves  likewise  with  the 
same  mind  ;  for  he  that  hath  suffered  in  the  flesh 
Iiath  ceased  from  sin. 

The  main  of  a  Christian's  duty  lies  in  these 
two  things,  patience  in  suffering,  and  avoid- 
ance of  sin,  'iiiYoir  Kill  .iTT, Y".  and  they  have  a 
natural  influence  upon  each  other.  Altlnjuah 
affliction  simply  doth  not,  yet  aflliction  sweet- 
Iv  and  humbly  carried,  doth  purify  and  disen- 
gage the  heart  from  sin,  wean  it  from  the 
world  and  the  common  ways  of  it.  And 

•  This  probably  refers  to  the  jiestilence  in  16P5. 
See  tfie  lecture  on  chap.  iv.  6.  "  Though  ine  pes;i- 
fence  doth  not  affright  t""  so,"  &c. 


Ver.  1.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


283 


again,  holv  and  exact  walking  keeps  the  soul 
in  a  sound,  healthful  temper,  and  so  enables 
it  to  patient  sulTerinsr,  to  bear  things  more 
easily  :  as  a  strong  body  endures  fatigue,  heat, 
cold,  and  hardship,  with  ease,  a  small  part 
whereof  would  surcharge  a  sickly  constitu- 
tion, ^rhe  consciousness  of  sin,  and  careless 
unholy  courses,  do  wonderfully  weaken  a  soul 
and  distemper  it,  so  that  it  is  not  able  to  en- 
dure much  ;  every  little  thing  disturbs  it. 
Therefore,  the  apostle  hath  reason,  both  to 
insist  so  much  on  these  two  points  in  this 
epistle,  and  likewise  to  interweave  the  one 
so  often  with  the  other,  pressing  jointly 
throughout,  the  cheerful  bearing  of  all  kinds 
of  afflictions,  and  the  careful  forbearing  all 
kinds  of  sin  ;  and  out  of  the  one  discourse  he 
slides  into  the  other  ;  as  here. 

And  as  the  things  a?ree  in  their  nature,  so,  in 
their  great  pattern  and  principle,  Jesus  Christ ; 
and  the  apostle  still  draws  buih  thence  :  that 
ot  patience,  chap.  iii.  IS,  that  of  holiness, 
here  :  Fomsmuch,  then,  as  Christ  hath  suf- 
fer fd  for  us,  &c. 

The  chief  study  of  a  Christian,  and  the  very 
thing  (hat  makes  him  to  be  a  Christian,  is, 
conformity  with  Christ.  Suinma  relis^ionis 
i/nitari  i/uern  colis  :  This  is  the  sum  of  reli- 
gion (said  that  wise  heathen,  Pythagoras),  to 
be  like  hrm  whom  thou  worshippest.  But  this 
example  being  in  itself  too  sublime,  is  brought 
down  to  our  view  in  Christ:  the  brightness 
of  God  is  veiled,  and  veiled  in  our  own  flesh, 
that  we  may  be  able  to  look  on  it.  The  in- 
accessible li<jht  of  the  Deity  is  so  attempered 
in  the  humanity  of  Christ,  that  we  may  read 
our  lesson  by  it  in  him,  and  mav  direct  our 
walk  by  it.  And  that  truly  is  our  only  way  ; 
there  is  nothing  but  wanderiiiff  and  perish- 
ing in  all  other  ways,  nothintr  but  darkness 
and  misery  out  of  him  :  but  He  Ihnt  follows 
ine,  says  he,  shall  not  walk  in  darkness.  John 
viii  12.  And  therefore  is  he  set  before  us  in 
the  gospel,  in  so  clear  and  lively  cohjrs,  that 
we  may  make  this  our  whole  endeavor,  to  be 
like  him. 

Consider  here:  1.  The  hi^h  engaofement 
to  this  conformity.  2.  The  nature  of  it. 
3.  The  actual  improvement  of  it. 

1.  The  eri'/agcment  lies  in  this,  that  he 
siifFered  for  us.  Of  this  we  have  treated  be- 
fore. Only,  in  reference  to  this,  had  become 
down,  as  some  have  misimaijiried  it,  only  to 
set  us  this  j)erfect  way  of  obedience,  and  give 
us  an  examide  of  it  in  our  own  nature,  this 
had  been  very  much  :  that  the  Ron  of  God 
should  descend  to  teacti  wretched  man,  and 
the  great  Kin?  descend  into  man,  and  dwell 
in  a  tabernacle  of  clay,  to  set  up  a  school  in 
it,  for  such  ignorant,  accursed  creatures,  and 
should,  in  his  own  person,  act  the  hardest 
lessons,  both  in  doing  and  suffering,  to  lead 
us  in  both.  But  the  matter  ifoes  yet  higher 
than  this.  Oh  !  how  much  hii;ber  hath  he 
suffered,  not  simply  as  our  rule,  but  as  our 
surety,  and  in  our  stead  !  He  suffere/l  for  i/s 
in  Ihe  flesh.    We  are  the  more  obliged  to 


make  his  suffering  our  example  ;  because  it 
was  to  us  more  than  an  example  ;  it  was  our 
ransom. 

This  makes  the  conformity  reasonable  in  a 
double  aspect.  [1.]  It  is  due,  that  we  follow 
him,  who  led  thus  as  the  Captain  of  our  sal- 
vation ;  that  we  follow  him  in  suffering,  and 
in  doing,  seeing  both  were  so  for  us.  It  is 
strange  how  some  armies  have  addicted 
themselves  to  their  head,  so  as  to  be  at  his 
call  night  and  day,  in  summer  and  winter,  to 
refuse  no  travail  or  endurance  of  hardship  for 
him,  and  all  only  to  please  him,  and  serve 
his  inclination  and  ambition  ;  as  Caesar's 
trained  bands,  especially  the  veterans,  it  is 
a  wonder  what  they  endured  in  counter- 
marches, and  in  traversing  from  one  coun- 
try to  another.  But  besides  that  our  Lord 
and  Leader  is  so  great  and  excellent,  and  so 
well  deserves  following  for  his  own  worth, 
this  lays  upon  us  an  obli<fation  beyond  all 
conceiving,  that  he  first  suffered  for  us,  that 
he  endured  such  hatred  of  man,  and  such 
wrath  of  God  the  Father,  and  went  through 
death,  so  vile  a  death,  to  procure  our  life. 
What  can  be  too  bitter  to  endure,  or  too 
sweet  to  forsake,  to  follow  him  ?  Were  this 
duly  considered,  should  we  cleave  to  oui 
lusts  or  to  our  ease  ?  Sliould  we  not  be 
willing  to  go  through  fire  and  water,  yea, 
through  death  itself,  yea,  were  it  possible, 
through  many  deaths,  to  follow  him. 

[2. J  Consider,  as  this  conformity  is  due,  so 
it  is  made  easi/  by  that  his  suffering  for  us. 
Our  burden  which  pressed  us  to  hell,  being 
taken  off",  is  not  all  that  is  left,  to  suffer  or  to 
do,  as  nothing.  Our  chains  which  bound  us 
over  to  eternal  death,  being  knocked  off, 
shall  we  not  walk,  shall  we  not  run,  in  his 
ways?  Oh!  think  what  that  burden  and 
yoke  was  which  he  hath  eased  us  of,  how 
heavy,  how  unsuff'erable  it  was,  and  then 
we  shall  think,  what  he  so  truly  says,  that  all 
he  lays  on  is  sweet ;  his  yoke  easy,  and  his 
burden  li^rht.  Oh  !  the  happy  change,  to  be  res- 
cued from  the  vilest  slavery,  and  called  to  con- 
formity and  fellowship  with  the  Son  of  God  ! 

2.  The  nature  of  this  conformity  (to  show 
the  nearness  of  it),  is  expressed  in  the  very 
same  terms  as  in  the  Pattern:  it  is  not  a  re- 
mote resemblance,  but  the  same  thing,  even 
sufferimr  in  the  flesh.  But  that  we  mav  un- 
derstand rightly  what  suffering  is  here  meant, 
it  is  plainly  this  ceasing  from  sin.  So  that 
sufferimr  m  the  flesh,  here,  is  not  simplv  the 
enduring  of  afflictions,  which  is  a  part  of  the 
Christian's  conformity  to  his  head.  Christ 
(Rom.  viii.  29),  but  implies  a  more  inward 
and  spiritual  suffering.  It  is  the  suffering 
and  the  dyinir  of  our  corruption,  the  taking 
away  of  the  life  of  sin  by  the  death  of  Christ: 
that  death  of  his  sinless  flesh  works  in  the 
believer  the  death  of  sinful  flesh,  that  is,  the 
corruption  of  bis  natur(!,  which  is  so  usually 
in  Scripture  called  flrsli.  Sin  makes  man 
base,  drowns  him  in  flesh  and  the  lusts  of  it, 
makes  the  very  soul  become  gross  and  earth- 


284 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  IV. 


y,  turns  it  as  it  were,  to  flesh.  So,  the 
apostle  calli  the  very  mind  ihat  is  unre- 
newed, a  carnnl  mind.    Rom.  viii.  7. 

And  what  doih  the  mind  of  a  natural  man 
hunt  af'ler  and  run  out  into,  from  one  day  and 
year  to  anoliier  V  Is  it  not  on  the  things  of 
this  hase  world,  and  (corpor-ix  tirgolium)  the 
eoncerunieiU  of  his  iie^li  ?  Wliat  would  he 
have,  but  he  accommodated  to  eat,  and  drink, 
and  dress,  and  live  at  ease  ?  Jlr  mi?i(h  rarthly 
thimxs,  savors  and  relishes  them,  and  cares 
for  them.  Examine  the  most  of  your  pains 
and  time,  and  your  strongest  desires,  and 
most  serious  thoughts,  whether  they  go  not 
this  way,  to  raise  yourselves  and  yours  in 
your  worldly  condition.  Yea,  the  highest 
projects  of  the  greatest  natural  spirits,  are  but 
earth  siill,  in  respect  of  things  truly  spiritual. 
All  their  slate  designs  go  not  beyond  this 
poor  life  that  perislies  in  the  flesh,  and  is 
daily  perishing  even  while  we  are  busiest 
in  upholding  it  and  pioviding  for  it.  Present 
things  and  this  lodge  of  clay,  this  flesh  and 
its  interest,  take  up  most  of  our  time  and 
pains:  the  most?  yea,  all,  till  that  change 
be  wrought  which  the  apostle  speaks  of,  till 
Christ  be  put  on  :  Rom.  xiii.  14.  Put  ye  on 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  then,  the  other 
will  easily  follow,  which  follows  in  the 
words,  Make  no  provision  for  the  fesh,  to 
fulfil  the  lusts  thereof.  Once  in  Christ,  and 
then  your  necessary  general  care  for  this 
natural  life  will  be  regulated  and  moderated 
by  the  Spirit.  And  as  for  all  unlawful  and 
enormous  desires  of  the  flesh,  you  shall  be 
rid  of  providing  for  these.  Instead  of  all  pro- 
vision for  the  life  of  the  flesh  in  that  sense, 
there  is  another  guest,  and  another  life,  for 
you  now  to  wail  on  and  furnish  for.  In  them 
wlio  are  in  Christ,  that  flesh  is  dead  ;  they 
are  freed  from  its  drudgery.  He  that  hath 
suffered  in  the  fesh,  hath  rested  from  sin. 

Ceased  from  sin.']  He  is  at  rest  from  it, 
a  godly  death,  as  they  who  die  in  the  Lord, 
rest  from  their  labors.  Rev.  xiv.  13.  He  that 
hath  sullered  in  the  flesh  and  is  dead  to  it, 
dies  indeed  in  the  Lord,  rests  from  the  base 
turmoil  of  sin  :  it  is  no  longer  his  master.  As 
our  sin  was  the  cause  of  (Christ's  death,  his 
death  is  the  death  of  sin  in  us;  and  that,  not 
simply  as  he  bore  a  moral  pattern  of  it,  but 
as  the  real  working  cause  of  it,  it  hath  an 
effectual  influence  on  the  soul,  kills  it  to  sin. 
/  am  crucified  with  Christ,  says  St.  Paul. 
Gal.  ii.  20.  Faith  so  looks  on  the  death  of 
Christ,  that  it  takes  the  impression  of  it,  sets 
it  on  the  heart,  kills  it  unto  sin.  Christ  and 
the  believer  do  not  only  become  one  in  law, 
80  that  his  death  stands  for  theirs,  but  one  in 
nature,  so  that  his  di'aih  for  sin  causes  theirs 
to  it.  They  are  baptized  into  his  death. 
Rom.  vi.  3. 

This  sufl^ering  in  the  flesh  being  unto  death, 
and  such  a  death  (crucif iiin<r),  hath  indeed 
pain  in  it  ;  but  what  then  ?  It  must  be  so 
.Ike  his,  and  the  believer  be  like  hitn,  in  wii- 
iogly  enduring  it.   All  the  pain  of  his  su.Ter- 


ing  in  the  flesh,  his  love  to  us  dicested  and 
went  through  with  ;  so,  all  the  pain  to  out 
nature  in  severing  and  pulling  us  froni  our 
beloved  sins,  and  in  our  dying  to  them,  i*" 
his  love  be  jilanted  in  our  hearts,  tliat  wiH 
sweeten  it,  and  make  us  delight  in  it.  Love 
desires  nothing  more  tiian  likeness,  and 
shares  willingly  in  all  with  the  jiarty  loved  ; 
and  above  all  love,  this  Divine  love  is  purest 
and  highest,  and  works  most  strongly  that 
way  ;  lakes  pleasure  in  that  i)ain,  and  is  a 
voluntary  death,  as  Plato  calls  love.  It  is 
strong  as  death,  says  Solomon.  Cant.  viii.  6. 
As  death  makes  ihe  stroniiest  body  fall  to  the 
ground,  so  doth  the  love  of  Christ  make  the 
most  active  and  lively  sinner  dead  lo  his  sin  ; 
and  as  deaih  severs  a  man  from  his  dearest 
and  most  familiar  friends,  thus  doth  the  love 
of  Christ,  and  his  death  flowing  from  it,  sever 
the  heart  from  its  most  beloved  sins. 

I  beseech  you,  seek  to  have  your  hearts 
set  against  sin,  to  hate  ii,  to  wound  it,  and  be 

'  dying  daily  to  it.  Be  not  satisfied,  unless 
ye  feel  an  abatement  of  it,  and  a  life  within 
you.  Disdain  that  base  service,  and  being 
bought  at  so  high  a  rate,  think  yourselves  too 
good  to  be  slaves  to  any  base  lust.  You  are 
called  to  a  more  excellent  and  more  honora- 
ble service.  And  of  this  suffering  in  the 
flesh,  we  may  safely  say,  what  the  apostle 
speaks  of  the  sufferings  with  and  for  Christ 
(Rom.  viii.  17),  that  the  partakers  of  these 
sufferings  are  co-heirs  of  glory  with  Christ: 
If  we  suffer  thus  with  him,  we  shall  also  be 
glorified  with  him;  if  we  die  with  him,  we 

■  shall  live  with  him  for  ever. 

I     3.  We  have  the  actual  improvement  of 

j  this  conformity  :  Arm  yovrsclvcs  with  the 
same  mind,  or  thoughts  of  this  mortification. 

;  Death,  taken  naturally,  in  its  proper  sense, 
being  an  entire  privation  of  life,  admits  not 
of  degrees  ;  but  this  figurative  death,  this 
mortification  of  the  flesh  in  a  Christian,  is 
gradual.  In  so  /iir  as  he  is  renewed,  and  is 
animated  and  acted  on  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ, 
he  is  thoroughly  mortified  (for  this  death, 
and  that  new  life  joined  with  it,  and  here 
added,  ver.  2,  go  together  and  grow  togeth- 
er) ;  but  because  he  is  not  totally  renewed, 
and  there  is  in  him  the  remains  of  that  cor- 
ruption still,  which  is  here  called  flesh,  there- 
fore it  is  his  great  task,  to  be  gaining  further 
upon  it,  and  overcoming  and  mortifying  it 
every  day.  And  to  this  tend  the  frequent  ex 
hortations  oi'  this  nature :  Mortify  your  mem- 
hers  that  are  on  the  earth.  So  Rom.  vi.. 
Likewise  reckon  yourselves  dead  to  sin,  and 
Let  it  not  reign  in  your  mortal  bodies.  Thus 
here.  Arm  yourselves  nnth  the  same  mind,  or 
with  this  very  thought.  Consider  and  ap- 
ply that  suffering  of  Christ  in  the  flesh,  lo 
the  end  that  you  with  him  suffering  in  the 
flesli,  may  cease  from  sin.    Think  that  it 

i  ought  to  be  thus,  and  seek  that  it  may  be 
thus,  with  you. 

Arm  yourselves.]  There  is  still  fighting, 
and   sin   will   be   molesting  you  ;  though 


Vee.  2,  3.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


28b 


wounded  to  death,  yei  will  it  struggle  for  life, 
and  seek  to  wound  its  enemy  ;  it  will  assault 
the  graces  that  are  iu  you.  Do  not  think,  if 
it  bp  once  struck,  and  you  have  sriven  it  a 
stab  near  to  .tiie  heart,  by  the  sword  of  the 
Spirit,  that  therefore  it  will  stir  no  more. 
No,  so  long  as  you  live  in  the  flesh,  in  these 
bowels  there  will  be  remainders  of  the  life 
ol  this  flesh,  your  natural  corruption  ;  there- 
lore  you  must  be  armed  against  it.  Sin  will 
not  give  you  rest,  so  long  as  there  is  a  drop 
of  blood  in  its  veins,  one  spark  ol'  life  in  it: 
and  that  will  be  so  long  as  you  have  life  here. 
This  old  man  is  stout,  and  will  fight  himself 
to  dca'h  ;  and  at  the  weakest  it  will  rouse 
up  itself,  and  exert  its  dying  spirits,  as  men 
will  do  sometimes  more  eagerly  than  when 
they  were  not  so  weak,  nor  so  near  death. 

This  the  children  of  God  often  find  to  their 
grief,  that  corruptions  which  they  thought 
had  been  cold  dead,  stir  and  rise  up  again, 
and  set  upon  them.  A  passion  or  lust,  that 
after  some  great  stroke  lay  a  long  while  «s 
dead,  stirred  not,  and  therefore  they  thought 
to  have  heard  no  more  of  it,  though  it  shall 
never  recover  fully  again,  to  be  lively  as  be- 
fore, yet  will  revive  in  such  a  measure  as  to 
molest,  and  possibly  to  foil  them  yet  again. 
Therefore  is  it  continually  necessary  that 
they  live  in  arms,  and  put  them  not  off"  to 
their  dying  day  ;  till  they  put  off  the  body, 
and  be  altogether  free  of  the  flesh.  You  may 
take  the  Lord's  promise  for  victory  in  the 
end  ;  that  shall  not  fail  ;  but  do  not  promise 
yourself  ease  in  the  way,  for  that  will  not 
hold.  If  at  some  times  you  be  undermost, 
give  not  all  for  lost:  he  hath  often  won  liie 
day,  who  hath  been  foiled  and  wounded  in 
the  fight.  But  likewise  take  not  all  for  won, 
so  as  to  have  no  more  conflict,  when  some- 
times you  have  the  better,  as  in  particular 
battles.  Be  not  desperate  when  you  lose,  nor 
secure  when  you  eain  them  :  when  it  is 
worse  with  you,  do  not  throw  away  your  arms, 
nor  lay  them  away  when  you  are  at  best. 

Now,  the  way  to  be  armed  is  this,  the  same 
mind:  How  would  my  Lord,  Christ,  carry 
himself  in  this  case  ?  And  what  was  his  busi- 
ness in  all  places  and  companies?  Was  it 
not  to  do  the  will,  and  advance  the  glory  of 
his  Father  ?  If  I  be  injured  and  reviled,  con- 
sider how  would  he  do  in  this?  Would  he 
repay  one  injury  with  another,  one  reproach 
with  another  reproach?  No,  hems'  reviled, 
he  reviled  not  asnm.  Well,  thrtjugh  his 
strength,  this  shall  be  my  way  too.  Thus 
ought  it  to  be  willi  the  Christian,  framing  all 
his  ways,  and  words,  and  very  thoughts,  upon 
that  model,  the  mind  of  Christ,  and  studying 
m  all  things  to  walk  even  as  he  walked  ; 
studying  it  much,  as  the  reason  and  rule  of 
mtjrtificaiion,  and  drawing  from  it,  as  the 
real  cause  and  spring  of  mortification. 

The  pious  contemplation  of  his  death  will 
most  pfjwerfully  kill  the  love  of  sin  in  the 
«oul,  and  kindle  an  ardent  hatred  of  it.  The 
Believer,  looking  on  his  Jesus  as  crucified  for 


him  and  wounded  for  his  transgression,  and 
taking  in  deep  thoughts  of  his  spotless  inno- 
cency,  which  deserved  no  sucli  thing,  and  of 
his  matchless  love,  which  yet  endured  it  all 
for  him,  will  then  naturally  think,  shall  I  be 
a  friend  to  that  which  was  his  deadly  enemy  ? 
Shall  sin  be  sweet  to  me,  which  was  so  bitter 
to  him,  and  that  for  my  sake?  Shall  I  ever 
lend  it  a  good  look,  or  entertain  a  favorable 
thought  of  that  which  shed  my  Lord's  blood  ? 
Slialf  I  live  in  that  for  which  he  died,  and 
died  to  kill  it  in  me.    Oh  !  let  it  not  be. 

To  the  end  it  may  not  be,  let  such  really 
apply  that  death,  to  work  this  on  the  soul ; 
(for  this  is  always  to  be  added,  and  is  the 
main  thing  indeed) :  by  holding  and  fastening 
that  death  close  to  the  soul,  efiectually  to  kill 
the  effects  of  sin  in  ii :  to  stifle  and  crush  thera 
dead,  by  pressing  that  death  on  the  heart ; 
looking  on  it,  not  only  as  a  most  complete 
model,  but  as  having  a  most  effectual  virtui 
for  this  effect ;  and  desiring  him,  entreating 
our  Lord  himself,  who  communicates  himself 
and  the  virtue  of  his  death  to  the  believer, 
that  he  would  powerfully  cause  it  to  flow  in 
upon  us,  and  let  us  feel  the  virtue  of  it. 

It  is,  then,  the  only  thriving  and  growing 
life,  to  be  much  in  the  lively  contemplation 
and  ai)plication  of  Jesus  Christ  ;  to  be  con- 
tinually  studying  him,  and  conversing  with 
him,  and  drawing  from  him,  receivinsr  of  hii 
fulness,  j^race for.grace.  John  i.  16.  Wouldst 
thou  have  much  power  against  sin,  and  much 
increase  of  holiness,  let  thine  eye  be  much  on 
Christ ;  set  thine  heart  on  him  ;  let  it  dwell 
in  him,  and  be  still  with  him.  When  sin  is 
likely  to  prevail  in  any  kind,  go  to  him,  tell 
him  of  the  insurrection  of  his  enemies,  and 
thy  inability  to  resist,  and  desire  iiim  to  sup- 
press them,  and  to  hel[)  thee  against  them, 
that  they  may  gain  nothing  by  their  stirring, 
but  some  new  wound.  If  thy  heart  begin  to 
be  taken  with,  and  move  toward  sin,  lay  it 
before  him  ;  the  beams  of  his  love  shall  eat 
out  that  fire  of  those  sinful  lusts.  Wouldst 
thou  have  thy  pride,  and  passions,  and  love  of 
the  world,  and  self-love,  killed,  go  sue  for  the 
virtue  of  his  death,  and  that  shall  do  it.  Seek 
his  Spirit,  the  Spiriluf  meekness,  and  humili- 
ty, and  divine  love.  Look  on  him,  and  he 
sliall  draw  thy  heart  heavenward,  and  unite 
it  to  himself,  and  make  it  like  himself.  And 
is  not  that  the  thing  thou  desirest  ? 

Ver.  2.  That  he  no  longer  should  live  the  rest  of  his 
time  in  the  flesh  to  the  lusts  of  men,  but  to  th« 
will  of  Ood. 

Ver.  3.  Kor  the  time  past  of  our  life  may  suffice  us  to 
have  wrought  the  will  of  the  (lentiles,  when  we 
walked  in  lasciviousness,  lusts,  excess  of  wine,  re- 
vellings,  banquetings,  and  abominable  idolatries. 

The  chains  of  sin  are  so  strong,  and  so  fas- 
tened on  our  nature,  that  there  is  in  us  no  pow- 
er to  break  them  off,  till  a  mightier  and  strong, 
er  Spirit  than  our  own  come  into  us.  The 
Spirit  of  Christ  dropped  into  the  soul,  makes 
it  able  to  hrrak  throu'rh  a  trno]),  and  leaj)  over 
a  wall,  as  David  speaks  of  himself,  when  fur 


286 


A  COMMENTARY  VVoh  THE 


[Chap.  Iv. 


nii<lied  witli  ilie  strensrih  of  his  God.  Psalm 
xviii.  29.  jNlfii's  rt'.>;i.)luti()ns  fail  to  nothing; 
and  as  a  prisoiuT  who  attempts  to  escape,  and 
does  not.  is  bound  (;isier.  thus  usually  it  is 
with  men  in  tlieir  self-purposes  of  forsaking 
sin:  they  leave  out  Christ  in  the  work,  and 
so  remain  in  their  captivity,  yea,  it  grows 
upon  them.  And  while  we  press  them  to 
free  themselves,  and  s-how  not  Christ  to  them, 
we  put  them  upon  an  impossibility.  But  a 
look  to  him  makes  it  feasible  and  easy.  Faith 
in  him,  and  that  love  to  him  which  faith 
begets,  break  through  and  surmount  all  dif- 
ficulties. It  is  the  powerful  love  of  Christ, 
liiat  kills  the  love  of  sin,  and  kindles  the  love 
ol  holiness  in  the  soul  :  makes  it  a  willing 
sliarer  in  his  death,  and  so  a  happy  partaker 
of  his  life.  For  that  always  follows,  and 
must  of  necessity,  as  here  is  added  :  he  lhat 
hath  suffered  in  the  fesh,  hath  ceased  from 
sill, — is  crucified  and  dead  to  it  ;  but  he  loses 
nothing  :  yea,  it  is  his  great  gain,  to  lose  ihat 
deadly  life  of  the  flesh  for  a  new  sjiiritual  life, 
a  life  indeed  lirmg  unto  God ;  that  is  the 
end  why  he  so  dies,  that  he  may  thus  live — 
That  he  no  longer  should  live  to  the  lusts  of 
men,  and  yet  live  far  better,  lire  to  the  icill  of 
God.  He  that  is  one  with  Christ  by  believing, 
IS  one  with  him  throughout,  in  death  and  in 
life.  As  Christ  rose  from  the  dead,  so  he 
lhat  is  dead  to  sin  with  him,  through  the 
nower  of  his  death,  rises  to  that  new  life  with 
tim,  thrcjugh  the  power  of  his  resurrection. 
And  these  two  constitute  our  sanctification, 
which  whosoever  do  partake  of  Christ,  and 
are  found  in  him,  do  certainly  draw  from  him. 
Thus  are  they  joined,  Rom.  vi.  11  :  Likewise 
reckon  you  yourselves  dead  indeed  to  sin,  hut 
alive  to  God,  and  both,  through  Christ  Jesus 
our  Lord. 

All  they  who  do  really  come  to  Jesus  Christ, 
as  they  come  to  him  as  their  Savior  to  be 
clothed  with  hi:n,  and  made  righteous  bv  him, 
so  they  come  likewise  to  him  as  their  Sanc- 
tifier,  to  be  made  new  and  holy  by  him,  to 
die  and  live  with  him,  \o  follow  the  Lamb 
wheresoever  he  goes,  through  the  hardest  suf- 
ferings, and  death  itself  And  this  spititual 
sull'ering  and  dying  with  him,  is  the  universal 
way  of  all  his  followers  ;  they  arc  all  martyrs 
thus  in  the  crucifying  of  sinful  flesh,  and  so 
dying  for  him,  and  with  him.  And  they  may 
well  go  cheerfully  through.  Though  it  bear 
the  unpleasant  name  of  death,  yet,  as  the 
other  deatli  is  (whicii  makes  it  so  little  terri- 
ble, yea,  often  to  appear  so  very  desirable  to 
them),  so  is  this,  the  way  lo  a  far  more  ex- 
celleiu  and  happy  life  ;  so  that  they  may  pass 
through  it  gladly,  ])olh  for  the  company  and 
the  end  of  it.  It  is  with  Christ  they  go  into 
liis  death,  as  unto  life  in  his  life.  Though  a 
lieliever  might  be  free  from  these  terms,  he 
would  not.  No,  surely.  Could  he  be  content 
with  that  easy  life  of  sin,  instead  of  the  Divine 
life  of  Christ?  No,  he  will  do  thus,  and  not 
accept  of  delivefance,  that  he  rnai/  obtain  (as 
Jie  apostles  vpeaks  of  the  martyrs)  a  belter 


resurrection.  Heb.  xi.  35.  Think  on  it  again, 
you  to  whom  your  sins  are  dear  still,  and  this 
life  sweet  ;  you  are  yet  far  from  Christ  nnd 
his  life. 

The  apostle,  with  the  intern  to  press  this 
more  hi  tne,  expresses  more  at  large  the  na- 
ture of  the  opposite  estates  and  lives  that  he 
speaks  of,  and  so,  1.  Sets  before  his  Christian 
brethren  the  dignity  of  that  new  life  :  and 
then,  2.  By  a  i)articular  ri  flection  upon  the  for 
mer  life,  he  presses  the  change.  The  former 
life  he  calls  a  living  lo  the  lusts  of  incn  ;  this 
new  spiritual  life,  a  living  to  the  will  of  God. 

The  hisis  of  nun.]  Such  as  are  common  to 
the  corrupt  naiure  of  man  ;  such  as  every  man 
may  find  in  himself,  and  perceive  in  others. 
Theaposile,  in  the  third  verse  more  particular- 
ly, for  further  clearness,  specifies  those  kinds 
of  men  thai  were  most  notorious  in  these  lusts, 
and  those  kinds  of  lusis  lhat  were  most  notori- 
ous in  men.  Writing  to  the  dispersed  Jews, 
he  calls  sinful  lusts  the  trill  of  the  Gentiles,  as 
having  least  ccjnirol  of  contrary  light  in  them 
(and  yet.  the  .lews  walked  in  the  same,  though 
they  had  the  law  as  a  light  and  rule  for  avoid- 
ing of  them)  ;  and  implies,  that  these  lusts 
were  unbeseeming  even  their  former  condi- 
tion as  Jews,  hut  much  more  unsuitable  to 
them,  as  now  Christians.  Some  of  the  gros- 
sest of  these  lusts  he  names,  mc<.ning  all  the 
rest,  all  the  ways  of  sin,  and  so  rei)reseniing 
their  vileness  in  the  more  lively  manner. 
Not,  as  some  take  it,  when  they  hear  of  such 
heinous  sins,  as  if  it  were  to  lessen  the  evil 
of  sins  of  a  more  civil  nature  by  the  compari- 
son, or  as  if  freedom  from  these  were  a  blame- 
less condition,  and  a  change  of  it  needless  ; 
no,  the  Holy  Ghost  means  it  just  contrary, 
that  we  may  judge  of  all  sin,  and  of  our  sin- 
ful naiure,  by  our  estimate  of  those  sins  that 
are  most  discernible  and  abominable.  All  sin, 
though  not  equal  in  degree,  yet  is  of  one  na- 
ture, and  originally  springs  from  one  root, 
arising  from  the  same  unholy  nature  of  man, 
and  contrary  to  the  same  holy  nature  and  will 
of  God. 

So  then,  1.  Those  who  walk  m  these  high- 
ways of  impiety,  and  yet  will  have  the  name 
of  Christians,  they  are  the  shame  of  Chris- 
tians, and  the  professed  enemies  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  of  all  others  the  most  hateful  to 
him  :  they  seem  to  have  taken  on  his  name, 
for  no  other  end  than  to  shame  and  disgrace 
it.  But  he  will  vindicate  himself,  and  the 
blot  shall  fall  upon  these  impudent  persons, 
who  dare  hold  up  their  faces  in  the  church  of 
God  as  pans  of  it,  and  are  indeed  nothing  but 
the  dishonor  of  it,  spots  and  blots  ;  who  dare 
profess  to  worship  God  as  his  people,  and  re- 
main unclean,  riotous,  and  profane  persons. 
How  suiis  thy  sitting  here  before  the  Lord, 
and  thy  sitting  with  vile  ungodly  company  on 
the  ale-bench  ?  How  agrees  the  word,  sounds 
it  well,  There  goes  a  drunken  Christian,  an 
unclean,  a  basely  covetous,  or  earthly-minded. 
Christian.  And  the  naming  of  the  latter  is 
not  besides  the  text,  but  agreeable  to  the  very 


Ver.  2,  3.J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


287 


words  of  it :  for  the  apostle  warrants  us  to  take 
it  under  the  name  of  idolatry,  and  in  that  name 
he  reckons  it  to  be  mortified  by  a  Christian: 
Col.  iii.  5.  Mortify  therefore  your  members 
wliichare  upon  the  earth,  fornication,  unclenn- 
ness,  inordinate  affection,  evil  concupiscence, 
and  covcloiisness,  w/iich  is  idolatry. 

2.  But  yet,  men  who  are  someway  exempt- 
ed from  the  blot  of  these  foul  impieties,  may 
still  remain  slaves  to  sin,  alive  to  it,  and  dead 
to  God,  living-  to  the  lusts  of  men,  and  not  to  the 
wiil  of  God,  pleasing  others  and  themselves, 
and  displeasing  him.  And  the  smoothest, 
best  bred,  and  most  moralized  natural  man, 
is  in  this  base  thraldom  ;  and  he  is  the  more 
miserable,  in  that  he  dreams  of  liberty  in  the 
midst  of  his  chains,  thinks  himself  clean  by 
looking  on  those  that  wallow  in  gross  pro- 
faneaess  ;  takes  measure  of  himself  by  the 
most  crooked  lives  of  ungodly  men  about  him, 
and  so  thinks  himself  very  straight ;  but  lays 
not  the  straight  rule  of  the  will  of  God  to  his 
ways  and  heart,  which  if  he  did,  he  would 
then  discover  much  crookedness  in  his  ways,  | 
and  much  more  in  his  heart,  that  now  he  sees 
not,  but  takes  it  to  be  square  and  even. 

Therefore  I  advise  and  desire  you  to  look 
more  narrowly  to  yourselves  in  this,  and  see 
whether  you  be  not  still  living  to  your  own 
lusts  and  wills  instead  of  to  God,  seekmg.  in 
all  your  ways,  to  advance  and  please  your- 
selves, and  not  him.  Is  not  the  bent  of  your 
hearts  set  that  way  ?  Do  not  your  whole 
desires  and  endeavors  run  in  that  channel, 
how  you  and  yours  may  be  somebody,  how 
you  may  have  wherewiihal  to  serve  the  flesh, 
and  to  be  acxounted  of  and  respected  among 
men  ?  And  if  we  trace  it  home,  all  a  man's 
honoring  and  pleasing  of  others  tends  to,  and 
ends  in,  pleasing  of  himself:  it  resolves  into 
that.  And  is  it  not  so  meant  by  him  ?  lie 
pleases  men,  either  that  he  may  gain  by  them, 
or  be  respected  by  them,  cjr  that  sorneihing 
that  is  still  pleasing  to  himself  may  be  the 
return  of  it.  So,  self  is  the  grand  idol,  for 
which  all  other  hearl-idolatries  are  commit- 
ted ;  and,  indeed,  in  the  unrenewed  heart 
there  is  no  scarcity  of  them.  Oh  !  what  mul- 
titudes, what  heaps,  if  the  wall  were  digged 
through,  and  the  light  of  (xod  going  before  us, 
and  leading  us  in  to  sec  thetn  !  The  natural 
motion  and  way  of  the  natural  heart,  is  no 
other  than  still  seeking  out  new  inventions, 
a  forge  of  new  gods,  siill  either  forming  them 
to  itself,  or  worsiiip|)ing  those  it  hath  already 
framed  ;  committing  spiritual  fornication  from 
God,  with  the  creature,  and  multiplyin.o  lovers 
everywhere,  as  it  is  tempted  ;  as  the  Lord 
Corn[)lainrs  of  his  people,  upon  every  hi<rh  hill, 
arid  under  evert/  screen  tree.  Jer.  ii.  20  ;  iii.  6. 

You  will  not  believe  so  much  ill  of  your- 
selves, will  tiot  beconvinced  of  this  unpleasant 
but  necessary  Iriilh  ;  and  this  is  a  part  of  our 
self-pleasiiig,  ihat  we  please  ourselves  in  ibis, 
that  we  will  not  see  it,  either  in  our  callings 
and  ordinary  ways,  or  in  our  reliirious  exer- 
cises.   For  iven  in  these,  we  naturally  aim 


at  nothing  but  ourselves  ;  either  our  reputa- 
tion, or,  at  best,  our  own  safety  and  peace  ; 
either  to  stop  the  cry  of  conscience  for  the 
present,  or  to  escape  the  wrath  that  is  to 
come  ;  but  not  in  a  spiritual  regard  of  the 
will  of  God,  and  out  of  pure  love  to  himself 
for  himself;  yet,  thus  it  should  be,  and  that 
love,  the  divine  fire  in  all  our  sacrifices.  The 
carnal  mind  is  in  the  dark,  and  sees  not  its 
vileness  in  living  to  itself,  will  not  confess  it 
to  be  so.  But  when  God  comes  into  the  soul, 
he  lets  it  see  itself,  and  all  its  idols  and  idola- 
tries, and  forces  it  to  abhor  and  loathe  itself 
for  all  its  abominations  :  and  having  discover- 
ed its  filthiness  to  itself,  then  he  purgjes  and 
cleanses  it  for  himself,  y;o/n  all  its  filthiness, 
and  from  all  its  idols  (Ezek.  xxxvi.  25),  ac- 
cording to  his  promise,  zu^  -omes  in  and  takes 
possession  of  it  for  himself,  entiirones  him- 
self in  the  heart.  And  it  is  never  right  nor 
happy  till  that  be  done. 

But  to  the  will  of  God.]  We  readily  take 
any  little  slight  chanire  for  true  conversion, 
I  but  we  may  see  here  that  we  mistake  it :  it 
doth  not  barely  knock  off  some  obvious  ap- 
parent enormities,  but  casts  all  in  a  new 
mould,  alters  the  whole  frame  of  the  heart 
and  life,  kills  a  man,  and  makes  him  alive 
again.  And  this  new  life  is  contrary  to  the 
old  ;  for  the  change  is  made  with  that  intent, 
that  he  live  no  longer  to  the  lusts  of  men,  hut 
to  the  icill  of  God.  He  is  now,  indeed  a  new 
creature,  having  a  new  judgment  and  new 
thoughts  of  thinars,  and  so,  accordingly,  new 
desires  and  afl'ections,  and  answerably  to 
these,  new  actions.  Old  things  are  past  away 
and  dead,  and  all  things  are  become  new. 
2  Cor.  V.  17. 

Political  men  have  observed,  that  in  states, 
if  alterations  must  be,  it  is  better  to  alter 
many  things  than  a  few.  And  physicians 
have  the  same  remark  for  one's  habit  and 
custom  for  bodily  health,  upon  the  same 
ground  ;  because  things  do  so  relate  one  to 
another,  that  except  they  be  adapted  and 
suited  together  in  the  change,  it  avails  not ; 
yea,  it  sometimes  proves  the  worse  in  the 
whole,  though  a  few  things  iu  particular 
seem  to  be  bettered.  Thus,  half-ref  jrmaiions 
in  a  Christian  turn  to  his  prejudice  ;  it  is  only 
best  to  be  reformed  throughout,  and  to  give 
U[)  v/ith  all  idols  ;  not  to  live  one  half  to  him- 
self and  the  world,  and,  as  it  were,  aiujiher 
half  to  God,  for  that  is  but  falsely  so,  and,  in 
reality,  can  not  be.  The  only  way  is,  to 
make  a  heap  of  all,  to  have  all  sacrificed  to- 
gether, and  to  live  to  no  lust,  but  alloffether 
and  only  to  God.  Thus  it  must  be:  there  is 
no  monster  in  the  new  creation,  no  half  new 
creature — either  all,  or  not  at  all,  n  /n;  SX'.i?. 
We  have  to  deal  with  the  Maker  and  the 
Searcher  of  the  heart  in  this  turn,  and  he  will 
have  nothing  unless  he  have  the  heart,  and 
none  of  that  neither,  unless  he  have  it  all, 
If  thou  pass  over  into  his  kingdom,  and  be- 
come bis  subject,  thou  must  have  him  for  thy 
only  sovereign.    Omnis'/ue  potestas  impatien 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LChap.  rv 


eonsorlis :  Koyalty  can  admit  of  no  rivalry,' 
and  least  of  all,  the  highest  and  best  of  all. 
If  Christ  he  liiy  king,  then  his  laws  and 
sceptre  iniisi  rule  all  in  thee  :  thou  must  now 
acknowledge  no  foreign  power  ;  that  will  be  , 
treason.  ' 

And  if  he  be  thy  husband,  thou  must  re- 1 
nouiiee  all  otlicrs.  Wilt  thou  provoke  him 
to  jealousy  ?  Yea,  beware  how  tiiou  givest  a 
thought  or  a  look  of  thy  alTeetion  any  other 
way,  for  he  will  spy  it,  and  will  not  endure  it. 
Tlie  title  of  a  husband  is  as  strict  and  tender, 
as  the  other  of  a  king. 

It  is  only  best  to  be  thus  :  it  is  thy  great  ad- 
vantage and  happiness,  to  be  tlius  entirely 
freed  from  so  many  tyrannous  base  lords,  and 
to  be  now  subject  to  only  one,  and  he  so  great, 
and  withal  so  gracious  and  sweet  a  king,  l/ie 
Prince  of  Peace.  Thou  wast  hurried  before, 
and  racked  with  the  very  multitude  of  them. 
Thy  lusts,  so  manv  cruel  task-masters  over 
thee,  they  gave  thee  no  rest,  and  the  work 
they  set  thee  to  was  base  and  slavish,  more 
than  the  burdens,  and  pots,  and  toiling  in  the 
clay  of  Egypt ;  thou  wast  held  to  work  in  the 
earth,  to  pain,  and  to  soil  and  foul  thyself 
with  iheir  drudgery. 

Now  thou  hast  but  One  to  serve,  and  that 
IS  a  great  ease  :  and  it  is  no  slavery,  but  true 
honor,  to  serve  so  excellent  a  Lord,  and  in  so 
high  services  ;  for  he  puts  thee  upon  nothing 
but  what  is  neat  and  what  is  honorable.  Thou 
art  as  a  vessel  of  hnnor  in  his  house,  for  his 
best  employments.  Now  thou  art  not  in  pain 
how  to  [)lease  this  person  and  the  other,  nor 
needest  thou  vex  thyself  to  gain  men,  to  study 
their  approbation  and  honor,  nor  to  keep  to 
thine  own  lusts  and  observe  their  will.  Thou 
hast  none  but  thy  God  to  please  in  all  ;  and 
if  he  be  pleased,  thou  njayest  disregard  who 
be  displeased.  His  will  is  not  fickle  and 
changing  as  men's  are,  and  as  thine  own  is. 
He  hath  told  thee  what  he  likes  and  desires, 
and  he  alters  not  :  so  that  now,  thou  knowest 
whom  thou  hast  to  do  withal,  and  what  to  do, 
whom  to  please,  and  what  will  please  him, 
and  this  can  not  but  much  settle  thy  mind, 
and  put  thee  at  ease.  Thou  mayest  say, 
heartily,  as  rejoicing  in  the  change  of  so 
many  for  one,  and  of  such  for  such  a  One,  as 
the  church  says.  Isa.  xxvi.  13:  O  Lord  our 
God,  xither  lords  beside  thee  hare  hud  domin- 
ion over  me,  hut  now,  by  thee  only  will  1  mtike 
mention  of  thy  name  ;  now,  none  but  thyself, 
not  so  much  as  the  name  of  them  any  more, 
away  with  them  :  through  thy  grace,  thou 
only  shah  be  my  God.  It  can  not  enduie  that 
anything  be  named  with  thee. 

Now,  1.  That  it  n)ay  be  thus,  that  we  may 
wholly  live  to  the  will  of  God,' we  must  A/;oi« 
his  will,  what  ii  is.  Persons  grossly  ignorant 
of  God,  and  of  his  will,  can  not  live  to  him. 
We  can  not  have  fellowship  with  him,  and  \ 
walk  in  darkness  ;  for  he  is  liicht,  1  John  i.  6, 
7.  This  takes  off  a  great  many  among  us, 
who  have  not  so  much  as  a  common  notion 
Jt  the  will  of  God.   But,  besides,  that  knowl- 


edge which  is  a  pari,  and  (I  may  say)  the 
first  part,  of  the  renewed  image  of  God,  is  not 
a  natural  knowledge  of  si)irinial  things,  mere- 
ly attained  by  human  teaching  or  industry, 
but  it  is  a  beam  of  (u)d's  own,  issuing  from 
himself,  bc)th  enlightening  and  enlivening  tlie 
whole  soul  :  i'  gains  ihe  alfcction  and  stirs  tc 
action,  and  so,  indeed,  it  ads,  and  increases 
by  acting  :  for  the  more  we  walk  accoruing  tc 
what  we  know  of  the  will  of  God,  the  more 
we  shall  be  advanced  to  know  more.  This 
is  the  real  provinif  what  is  his  s>ood,  and  holy, 
and  acceptable  will.  Romans  xii.  2.  So  says 
Christ,  If  any  one  will  do  the  will  of  my  Fa- 
ther, he  shall  know  if  the  doctrine.  John  vii 
17.  Our  lying  ofl'  from  the  lively  use  of 
known  truth,  keejis  us  low  in  the  knowledge 
of  God  and  communion  with  him. 

2.  So,  then,  upon  that  knowledge  of  God's 
will,  where  it  is  spiritual  and  from  himself, 
follows  the  suiting  of  the  heart  with  it,  the 
affections  taking  ihe  stamp  of  it,  and  agreeing 
with  it,  receivintr  the  truth  in  the  love  of  it, 
so  that  the  heart  may  be  transformed  into  it ; 
and  now  it  is  not  driven  to  obedience  violent- 
ly, but  sweetly  moving  to  it,  by  love  within 
the  heart,  framed  to  the  love  of  God,  and  so 
of  his  will. 

3.  As  Divine  knowledge  begets  this  affec- 
tion, so  this  affection  will  bring  forth  action, 
real  obedience.  For  these  three  are  insepa- 
rably linked,  and  each  dependant  on,  and  the 
product  of,  the  others.  The  affection  is  no 
blind,  but  flowing  from  knowledge  ;  nor  the 
actual  obedience  constrained,  but  flowing  from 
affection  ;  and  the  affection  is  not  idle,  seeing 
it  brings  forth  obedience  ;  nor  is  the  knowl- 
edge dead,  seeing  it  begets  affection. 

Thus  the  renewed,  the  living  Christian,  is 
all  for  God,  a  sacrifice  entirely  offered  up  to 
God,  and  a  livin<r  sacrifice,  which  lives  to 
God.  He  lakes  no  more  notice  of  his  own 
carnal  will  :  hath  renounced  that  to  embrace 
the  holy  will  of  God  ;  and  therefore,  though 
there  is  a  contrary  law  and  will  in  him,  yet 
he  does  not  acknowledge  it,  but  only  the  law 
of  Christ,  as  now  established  in  him  ;  that 
"law  of  love,  by  which  he  is  sweetly  and  wil- 
lingly led.  Real  obedience  consults  not  now 
with  flesh  and  blood,  what  will  ]ilease  them 
but  only  inquires  what  will  please  his  God, 
and  knowing  his  mind,  thus  resolves  to  demur 
no  more,  nor  to  ask  consent  of  any  other  :  that 
he  will  do,  and  it  is  reason  enough  to  him  : 
"  My  Lord  wills  it,  therefore,  in  his  strength, 
I  will  do  it  ;  for  now  1  live  to  his  will,  it  is 
my  life  to  study  and  obey  it." 

Now,  we  know  what  is  the  true  character 
of  the  redeemed  of  Christ,  that  they  are  freed 
from  the  service  of  themselves  and  of  the 
world,  yea,  dead  to  it,  and  have  no  life  but  for 
God,  as  altogether  his. 

Let  it,  then,  be  our  study  and  ambition  to 
attain  this,  and  to  grow  in  it ;  to  be  daily  fur- 
ther freed  from  all  other  ways  and  desires, 
and  more  wholly  addicted  to  the  will  of  our 
God  ;  displeased  when  we  find  anything  else 


Ver.  2,  3.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


289 


Etir  or  movf  within  us  but  that,  making  that ' 
ih'e  spring  c  f  our  notion  in  every  work. 

1.  Because  we  know  that  his  sovereign  will  [ 
ii  (and  is  most  justly)  the  glory  of  his  name, 
therefore  we  are  not  to  rest  till  this  be  set  up 
in  our  view,  as  our  end  in  all  things,  and  we 
are  to  account  all  our  plausible  doings  as  hate- 
ful (as  indeed  they  are),  which  are  not  aimed 
at  ihis  end;  yea,  endeavoring  to  have  it  as! 
frequently  and  as  expressly  before  us  as  we 
can,  stiil  keeping  our  eye  on  the  mark ; 
throwing  away,  yea,  undoing  our  own  inter- 
est, not  seeking  ourselves  in  anything,  but 
him  in  all. 

2.  As  living  to  his  will  is  in  all  things  to  bn 
our  end,  so,  in  all  the  way  to  that  end,  it  is  to 
be  the  rule  of  every  step.    For  we  can  not 
attain  his  end  but  in  his  way  ;  nor  can  we  at- 
tain It  without  a  resignation  of  the  way  to  hi''  i 
prescription,  taking  all  our  directions  from  | 
him,  how  we  shall  honor  him  in  all.  T.ie 
soul  that  lives  to  him,  haili  enough  to  make  \ 
anything  not  only  warrantable  but  amiable  in  | 
seeking  his  will  ;  and  he  not  only  does  it,  but : 
delights  to  do  it.  This  is  to  live  to  him,  to  find 
it  our  life  ;  as  we  speak  of  a  work  wherein 
men  do  most,  and  with  most  delight  employ 
themselves.    That  such  a  lust  be  cruciiicd, 
is  it  thy  will.  Lord  ?  Then,  no  more  advising, 
no  more  delay.    How  dear  soever  that  was 
when  I  lived  to  it,  it  is  now  as  hateful,  seeing 
I  live  to  thee  who  hatest  it.    Wilt  thou  have 
me  forget  an  injury,  though  a  great  one,  and  | 
love  the  person  that  haih  wronged  me?  While  I 
I  lived  to  myself  and  my  passions,  this  had 
been  hard.   But  now,  how  sweet  is  it !  seeing 
I  live  to  thee,  a/id  am  glad  to  be  put  upon 
things  most  opposite  to  my  corrupt  heart ; 
glad  to  trample  upon  my  own  will,  to  follow 
thine.    And  ibis  I  daily  aspire  to  and  aim  at, 
to  have  no  will  of  n»y  own,  but  that  thine  be 
iu  me,  that  1  may  live  to  thee,  as  one  with 
thee,  and  thou  my  rule  and  delight,  yea,  not 
to  use  the  very  natural  comforts  of  my  life, 
but  for  thee  ;  to  eat,  and  drink  ind  sleep  for 
thee  :  and  not  to  please  myself,  t.ut  to  be  ena- 
bled to  serve  and  please  ihee  ;  to  make  one 
ofiering  of  myself  and  all  my  actions  to  thee, 
my  Lord. 

Oh !  it  is  the  only  sweet  life,  to  he  living 
thus,  and  daily  learning  to  live  more  fully 
thus  !    It  is  heaven  this,  a  little  scantling  of 
it  here,  and  a  pledge  of  whole  heaven.  This 
is  indeed  the  life  of  Christ,  not  only  like  his, 
but  one  with  his;  it  is  his  spirit,  his  life  de- 
rived into  the  soul,  and  therefore  both  the 
most  excellent,  and  certainly  the  most  per- 1 
nianent  life,  for  Jin  dielh  no  more,  and  there- ' 
fore  this  his  life  can  not  be  extinguished. ! 
Hence  is  the  perseverance  of  the  saints;  be- 
cause they  have  one  life  with  Christ,  and  so! 
are  alive  unto  G(jd,  once  for  all,  for  ever.  i 

It  is  true,  the  former  cusKjm  of  sin  would  ' 
plead  wiih  grace  old  possessicjn  ;  and  this  the 
apostle  implies  here,  that  because  formerly 
wi  lived  to  our  lusts,  they  will  urge  that  ;  but 
he  teaches  us  to  beat  it  directly  back  on  them, 
37 


and  turn  the  edge  of  it  as  a  most  strong  rea- 
son against  them  :  "  True,  you  had  so  long 
time  of  us,  the  more  is  our  sorrow  and  shame, 
and  the  more  reason  that  it  be  no  longer  so. 

The  rest  of  his  lime  in  the  flesh  (that  is,  in 
this  body)  is  not  to  be  spent  as  the  foregoing, 
in  living  to  the  fesh,  that  is,  the  corrupt  lusts 
of  it,  and  the  common  ways  of  the  world  ;  but, 
as  often  as  the  Christian  looks  back  on  thai, 
he  is  CO  fi'nd  it  as  a  spur  in  his  side,  to  be  the 
more  earnest,  and  more  wholly  busied  in  liv- 
ing much  to  God,  having  lived  so  long  con- 
trary to  him,  in  living  to  the  flesh.  The  past 
may  suffice.  There  is  a  rhetorical  figure  (a 
lyptote)  in  that  expression,  meaninj  nmch 
more  than  the  words  express  :  "  It  is  enouoh 
— oh  !  too  much,  to  have  lived  so  long  so  mis- 
erable a  life." 

"Now,"  says  the  Christian,  "0  corrupt  lusts 
and  deluding  world,  look  for  no  more  :  I  have 
served  you  too  long.  The  rest,  whatsoever  it  is, 
must  be  to  the  Lord,  to  live  to  him  by  whom  I 
live  ;  and  ashamed  and  grieved  I  am  I  was  so 
long  in  beginning  ;  so  much  past,  it  may  be 
the  most  of  my  short  race  past,  before  I  took 
notice  of  God,  or  looked  toward  him.  Oh  ! 
how  have  I  lost,  and  worse  than  lost,  all  my 
by-j)ast  days  !  Now,  had  I  the  advantage  and 
abilities  of  many  men,  and  were  I  to  live  many 
ages,  all  should  be  to  live  to  my  God,  and 
honor  him.  And  what  strength  I  have,  and 
what  time  I  shall  have,  through  his  grace, 
shall  be  wholly  his."  And  when  any  Chris- 
tian  hath  thus  resolved,  his  intended  life  be- 
ing so  imperfect,  and  the  time  so  short,  tho 
poorness  of  the  offer  would  break  his  heart, 
were  there  not  an  eternity  before  hini,  where- 
in he  shall  live  to  his  (jod,  and  in  hiiu,  with- 
out blemish  and  with(;ut  end. 

Spiritual  things  being  once  discerned  by  a 
spiritual  light,  the  whole  soul  is  carried  after 
them  ;  and  the  ways  of  holiness  are  never 
truly  sweet,  till  they  be  thoroughly  embraced, 
and  till  there  be  a  full  renunciation  of  all  that 
is  contrary  to  them.  All  his  former  ways  of 
wandering  from  God,  are  very  hateful  to  a 
Christian  who  is  indeed  returned  and  brought 
home;  and  those  are  most  of  all  hateful, 
wherein  he  haih  most  wandered  and  most 
delighted.  A  sijbt  of  Christ  gains  the  heart, 
makes  it  break  from  all  entanglements,  both 
of  its  own  lusts,  and  of  the  profane  world 
about  it.  And  these  are  the  two  things  the 
apostle  here  aims  at.  Exhorting  Christians 
to  the  study  of  newness  of  life,  and  showing 
'he  necessity  of  it,  that  they  can  not  be  Chris- 
tians without  it,  he  opposes  their  new  estate 
and  engagement,  to  the  old  customs  of  theii 
former  condition,  and  to  the  continuing  cus 
tom  and  conceit  of  the  ungodly  wurld,  th^» 
against  both  they  may  maintain  that  rank  ai  i 
dignity  to  which  now  they  are  called,  and,  m 
a  holy  disdain  of  txjth,  walk  as  the  redeemed 
of  the  Lord.  Their  own  former  custom  he 
speaks  t-o  in  these  verses,  and  to  the  custom 
and  oi)inion  of  the  world,  in  those  which  fol- 
low.   Both  of  these  will  set  strong  upon  a 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LChap.  IV. 


man.  c^pcrially  while  lie  is  yet  weak,  and 
newly  entered  into  that  new  estate. 

Now,  as  to  the  first,  his  (ild  acquaintance, 
his  wonted  lusts,  will  not  iail  to  hestir  them- 
selves to  accost  liim  in  theii  most  olilifjin^, 
familiar  way,  and  represent  their  lon:;-con- 
tinued  friendship.  But  tiie  Christian,  follow- 
ing the  principles  of  his  new  heinsr,  will  not 
entertain  any  Ion?  discourse  with  them,  l)Ut 
cut  them  short,  tell  them  that  the  chanije  he 
hatli  made  he  avows,  and  finds  it  so  happy, 
that  these  former  deliffhls  may  put  off  hopes 
of  renainins;-  him.  No,  they  dress  themselves 
in  their  hest  array,  and  put  on  all  their  orna- 
ments, and  say,  as  that  known  word  of  the 
.ourtesan,  I  am  the  name  I  ir/is  ;  the  Christian 
will  answei  as  he  did,  I  am  not.  the  same  I 
HY/.s.  And  not  only  thus  will  he  turn  off  the 
plea  of  former  acquaintance  that  sin  makes, 
'ut  turn  it  hack  upon  it,  as  in  his  present 
hoii^'hls,  makinn;  much  against  it.  "The 
iOneer  I  was  so  deluded,  the  more  reason  now 
ih^it  I  he  wiser;  the  more  time  so  mispent, 
ine  more  pressing  necessity  of  redeeminsx  it. 
Oh  !  I  iiave  too  Ion?  lived  in  that  vile  slave- 
ry. All  was  but  husks  T  fed  on.  I  was  lay- 
ing out  my  money  for  that  which  was  no 
bread,  and  my  labor  for  that  wh^ch  satisfied 
not.  Isa.  Iv.  2.  Now,  I  am  on  the  pursuit  of 
a  <Tood  that  I  am  sure  will  satisfy,  will  fill  the 
larafest  desires  of  my  soul  ;  and  shall  I  be 
sjKiring  and  slack,  or  shall  anything  call  me 
off  from  it  ?  I^et  it  not  be.  I  who  took  so 
much  pains,  early  and  late,  to  serve  and  sac- 
rifice to  so  base  a  ffod,  shall  I  not  now  live 
more  to  my  new  Lord,  the  livinor  Gi>d,  and 
sacrifice  mv  time  and  strength,  and  mv  whole 
self,  to  him"  ?" 

And  this  is  still  the  regret  of  the  sensible 
Christian,  that  he  can  not  attain  to  that  un- 
wearied diligence  and  that  strong  bent  of  af- 
fection, in  seeking  communion  with  God,  and 
living  to  him,  which  once  he  had  for  the  ser- 
vice of  sin  :  he  wonders  that  it  should  be 
thus  with  him,  not  to  equal  that  which  it 
Were  so  reasonable  that  he  should  so  far  ex- 
ceed. 

It  is,  beyond  expression,  a  thing  to  be  la- 
mented, that  so  small  a  number  of  men  re- 
gard G(jd,  the  author  of  their  bemg,  that  sc 
few  live  to  him  in  whom  they  live,  returning 
that  being  and  life  they  have,  and  all  their 
enjoyments,  as  is  due,  to  him  from  whom 
they  all  flow.  And  then,  how  pitiful  is  it, 
that  the  small  number  who  are  thus  minded, 
mind  it  so  remissly  and  coldlv,  and  are  so  far 
outstripped  by  the  children  of  this  world,  who 
follow  ])ainled  follies  and  lies  with  more  ea- 
gerness and  industry  than  the  children  of 
teisdom  do  that  certain  and  solid  blessedness 
which  they  seek  after  ?  Plus  illi  ad  vanita- 
t€m,  (junm  nos  ad  veritatem :  They  are  more 
mtent  upon  vanity,  than  we  upon  veritv. 
Strange!  that  men  should  do  so  much  vio- 
lency  one  to  another,  and  to  themselves  in 
nody  and  mind,  for  trifles  and  chaff :  and 
»hat  there  is  so  little  to  be  found  of  that  al- 


lowed and  commanded  liolence,  for  a  king- 
dom, and  such  a  kingdom,  that  can  not  be 
moved  (Heb.  xii.  28)  ;  a  word  too  high  for  all 
the  monarchies  under  the  sun. 

And  should  not  our  diligence  and  violence 
in  this  so  worthy  a  design,  be  so  niui-li  the 
greater,  the  later  we  begin  to  pursue  ii  ? 
They  tell  it  of  C.xsar,  that  when  he  jjassed 
into  Spain,  meeting  there  with  Alexander's 
statue,  it  occasioned  i;im  to  weep,  consider- 
ing that  he  was  up  so  much  more  early,  hav- 
ing performed  so  many  coiKiuests  in  those 
years,  wherein  he  thought  he  himself  had 
done  nothing,  and  was  yet  but  beginning. 
Truly,  it  will  be  a  sad  thought  to  a  really  re- 
newed mind,  to  look  back  on  the  flower  of 
youth  and  strength  as  lost  in  vanity  ;  if  not 
in  gross  profaneness,  yet,  in  self-serving  and 
sell-pleasing,  and  in  ignorance  and  neglect 
of  God.  And  perceiving  tlicir  few  years  so 
far  spent  ere  they  set  out,  they  will  account 
days  precious,  and  make  the  more  haste, and 
desire,  with  holy  David,  enlarged  hearts  to 
run  the  way  of  God\'i  commundmcnls.  Psalm 
cxix.  32.  They  will  study  to  live  much  in  a 
little  time  ;  and,  having  lived  all  the  past 
time  to  no  purpose,  will  be  sensible  they 
have  none  now  to  spare  upon  the  lusts  and 
ways  of  the  flesh,  and  vain  societies  and  vis- 
its. Yea,  they  will  be  redeeming  all  they 
can,  even  from  their  necessary  afl'airs,  for 
I  that  which  is  more  necessary  than  all  other 
necessities,  that  one  thing  needful,  to  learn 
the  will  of  our  God,  and  live  to  it ;  this  is  our 
business,  our  high  callin<r,  the  main  and  most 
excellent  of  all  our  employments. 
!  Not  that  we  are  to  cast  oflf  our  particular 
I  callings,  or  omit  due  diligence  in  them  ;  for 
that  will  prove  a  snare,  and  involve  a  person 
in  things  more  opposite  to  godliness.  But 
certainly,  this  living  to  God  requires,  1.  A  fit 
measuring  of  thy  own  ability  for  affairs,  and, 
'  as  far  as  thou  canst  choose,  fitting  thy  load  to 
I  thy  shoulders,  not  sur.charging  thyself  with 
it.  An  excessive  burden  of  businesses,  either 
by  the  greatness  or  the  multitude  of  them, 
j  will  not  fail  to  entangle  thee,  and  depress  thy 
:  mind,  and  will  hold  it  so  down,  that  thou 
shalt  not  find  it  possible  to  walk  upright  and 
look  upward,  with  that  freedom  and  frequen- 
cy that  become  heirs  of  heaven. 

2.  The  measure  of  thy  affairs  being  adapt- 
ed, look  to  thy  affection  in  them,  that  it  be 
regulated  too.  Thy  heart  may  be  engaged 
in  thy  iittle  business  as  much,  if  thou  watch 
it  not,  as  in  many  and  great  affairs.  A  man 
may  drown  in  a  little  brook  or  pool,  as  well 
as  in  a  great  river,  if  he  be  down  and  plunge 
himself  into  it,  and  put  his  head  under  wa- 
ter. Some  care  thou  must  have,  that  thoO 
mayest  not  care.  Those  things  that  are 
thorns  indeed,  thou  must  make  a  hedg*"  of 
them,  t(j  keep  out  those  temptations  that  ac- 
company sloth,  and  exireme  want  that  waits 
ion  it:  but  let  them  be  the  hedge:  suffei 
them  not  to  grow  within  the  garden.  IJ 
I  riches  increase,  set  not  thy  heart  on  them,  no3 


Ver.  2,  3.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


29( 


set  them  in  thy  heart.  That  place  is  due  to 
another,  is  made  to  be  the  garden  of  thy  be- 
loved Lord,  made  for  the  best  plants  and 
flowers,  and  there  they  ought  to  grow,  the 
love  of  God,  and  faith,  and  meekness,  and 
the  other  fragrant  graces  of  the  Spirit.  And 
know,  that  this  is  no  common  nor  easy  mat- 
ter, to  keep  the  heart  disengaged  in  the  midst 
of  affairs,  that  still  it  be  reserved  for  him 
whose  right  it  is. 

3.  Not  only  labor  to  keep  thy  mind  spirit- 
ual in  itself,  but  by  it  put  a  spiritual  stamp 
even  upon  thy  temporal  employments :  and 
so  thou  shah  live  to  God,  not  only  without 
prejudice  of  thy  calling,  but  even  in  it,  and 
shalt  converse  with  him  in  thy  shop,  or  in 
the  field,  or  in  thy  journey,  doing  all  in  obe- 
dience to  him,  and  offering  all,  and  thyself 
withal,  as  a  sacrifice  to  him  :  thou  still  with 
him,  and  he  still  with  thee,  in  all.  This  is 
to  live  to  the  will  of  God  indeed,  to  follow  his 
direction,  and  intend  his  glory  in  all.  Thus 
the  wife,  in  the  very  oversight  of  her  house, 
and  the  husband  in  his  affairs  abroad,  may  be 
living  to  God,  raising  their  low  cmplovments 
to  a  hicfh  quality  this  way:  Lord,  even  this 
mean  work  I  do  for  thee,  complying  with  thy 
will,  who  hast  put  me  in  this  station,  and 
given  me  this  task.  Thy  wiU  he  done.  Lord, 
I  offer  up  even  this  work  to  thee.  Accept  of 
me,  and  of  my  desire  to  obey  thee  in  all.  And 
as  in  their  work,  so,  in  their  refreshments 
and  rest.  Christians  do  all  foj  him.  W/iether 
ye  eat  or  drink,  says  the  apostle  (1  Cor.  x. 
31),  or  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  s^ory 
of  God  ;  doing  all  for  this  reason,  because  it  i 
is  his  will,  and  for  this  end,  that  he  may  have 
glory:  bending  ihe  use  of  all  our  strength 
and  all  his  mercies  that  way  ;  setting  this 
mark  on  ail  our  designs  and  ways,  This  for 
the  glory  of  my  God,  and,  Tliis'further  for 
his  glory,  and  so  from  one  thing  to  another 
throughout  our  whole  life.  This  is  the  art 
of  keeping  the  hear,  spiritual  in  all  aflfairs, 
yea,  of  spiritualizing  .le  affairs  themselves  in 
their  use,  that  in  tnemselvcs  are  earthly. 
Th  is  is  the  elixir  that  turns  lower  metal  into 
gold,  the  mean  actions  of  this  life,  in  a  Chris- 
tian's hands,  into  obedience  and  holy  off'er- 
ings  unto  (iod. 

And  were  we  acquainted  with  the  way  of 
intermixinsr  holy  thoughts,  cjaculatory'  cy- 
ings  of  God,  in  our  ordinary  ways,  it  would 
keep  the  heart  in  a  sweet  temper  all  the  day 
long,  and  have  an  excellent  influence  into  all 
our  ordinary  actions  and  holy  performances, 
at  those  times  when  we  apply  ourselves  sol- 
emnly to  them.  Our  hearts  would  be  near 
them,  not  so  far  off  to  seek  and  call  in,  as  usu- 
ally they  are  through  the  neglect  of  this.  This 
were  to  walk  with  God  indeed  ;  to  go  all  the 
day  long  as  in  our  Father's  hand  :  whereas, 
without  this,  our  praying  morning  and  even- 
ir.  T  looks  but  as  a  formal  visit,  not  delighting 
in  that  constant  converse  which  yet  is  our 
happiness  and  honor,  and  makes  all  estates 


1 1  sweet.  This  would  refresh  us  in  the  hardest 
I  labor  ;  as  they  that  carry  the  spices  from  Ara- 
bia are  refreshed  with  the  smell  of  them  io 
their  journey,  and  some  observe,  that  it  keeps 
their  strength,  and  frees  them  from  taint- 
ing. 

If  you  will  then  live  to  God  indeed,  be  not 
satisfied  without  the  constant  regard  of  him  ; 
and  whosoever  hath  attained  most  of  it, 
study  it  yet  more,  to  set  the  Lord  always  be- 
fore you,  as  David  professelh,  and  then  shall 
you  have  that  comfort  that  he  adds,  he  shall 
be  still  at  your  rtght  hand,  that  you  shall  not 
he  moved.    Psalm  xvi.  8. 

And  you  thai  are  yet  to  begin  this,  think 
what  his  patience  is,  that  after  you  have 
slighted  so  many  calls,  you  may  yet  begin  to 
seek  him,  and  live  to  him.  And  then,  con- 
sider, if  you  still  despise  all  this  goodness, 
how  soon  it  may  be  otherwise :  you  may  be 
past  the  reach  of  this  call,  and  may  not  be- 
gin-, but  be  cut  off  for  ever  from  the  hopes  of 
it.  Oh,  how  sad  an  estate  I  and  the  more  so, 
by  the  remembrance  of  these  slighted  offers 
and  invitations!  Will  you  then  yet  return? 
You  that  would  share  in  Christ,  let  go  those 
lusts  to  which  you  have  hitherto  lived,  and 
embrace  him,  and  in  him  there  is  spirit  and 
life  for  you.  He  shall  enable  you  to  live  this 
heavenly  life  to  the  will  of  God,  His  God  and 
your  Gnd,  and  his  Father  and  your  Father. 
John  XX.  17.  Oh  !  delay  no  longer  this  happy 
change.  How  soon  may  that  puff"  of  breath 
that  is  in  thy  nostrils,  who  hearesl  this,  be 
extinguished  I  And  art  thou  willing  to  die 
I  in  thy  sins,  rather  than  that  they  should  die 
before  thee?  Thinkest  thou  it  a  pain  to  live 
to  the  wilJ  of  God  ?  Surely  it  will  be  more 
pain  to  lie  under  his  eternal  wrath.  Oh  I  thou 
knowest  not  how  sweet  they  find  it  who  have 
tried  it.  Or  thinkest  thou,  I  will  afterward  ? 
Who  can  make  thee  sure  either  of  that  after- 
ward, or  of  that  will  ?  If  but  afterward, 
why  not  now  presentlv,  without  further  de- 
bate ?  Hast  thou  no!  served  sin  long  enough  ? 
May  not  the  time  passed  in  that  service,  suf- 
fice ?  yea,  is  it  not  too  much  ?  Wouidst 
thou  only  live  unto  God  as  little  time  as  may 
be,  and  think  the  dregs  of  thy  life  good 
enough  for  him  ?  What  ingratitude  and  gross 
folly  is  this  !  Yea,  though  thou  wert  sure  of 
coming  unto  him  and  being  accepted,  yet,  if 
thou  knewest  him  in  any  measure,  thou 
wouidst  not  think  it  a  privilege  to  defer  ity 
but  willingly  choose  to  be  free  from  the 
world  and  thy  lusts,  to  be  immediately  his, 
and  wouidst,  with  David,  w/Ae  haste,  and  not 
delay  to  keep  his  ri<;htenus  jud grnents.  All 
the  time  thou  livest  without  him,  what  a 
filthy,  wretched  life  is  it,  if  that  can  be  called 
life  that  is  without  him !  To  live  to  sin,  is  to 
live  still  in  a  dungeon  ;  but  to  live  to  the  will 
of  God,  is  to  walk  in  liberty  and  light,  to 
walk  by  light  unto  light,  by  the  beginnings 
of  it  to  the  fulness  of  it,  which  is  in  his 
presence. 


292 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  IV 


Ver.  4.  Whoroin  they  thiflk  it  stningo  tlmt  ye  run 
iii't  with  thi'in  to  tlic  same  exeess  of  riot,  speak- 
ing evil  of  yoii : 

Ver.  ,').  Who  sliall  give  account  to  him  that  is  ready 
to  judge  tlie  ([uick  aud  the  dead.  j 

Grace,  until  it  reach  its  home  and  end  in  I 
glory,  is  still  in  conflict ;  there  is  a  restless 
party  within  and  without,  yea,  the  whole 
world  against  it.  It  is  a  stranger  here,  and 
IS  accounted  and  used  as  such.  They  think 
tt  strange  that  you  run  7iot  with  them,  and 
they  speak  evil  of  you  :  these  wondering 
thoughts  they  vent  in  reproaching  words. 

In  these  two  verses  we  have  these  three 
things:  1.  The  Christinn's  opi)osite  course  to 
that  of  the  world.    2.  The  world's  opposite  ' 
thoughts  and  speeches  of  this  course.  3.  The  | 
supreme  and  final  judgment  of  hotli. 

1.  The  opposite  course,  in  that  They  run 
to  excesses  of  riot — You  run  not  with  them. 
They  run  to  excesses  (<i(Twn,i,)  of  riot  or  lux- 
ury. Tiiough  all  natural  men  are  not,  in  the 
grossest  kind,  guilty  of  this,  yet  they  are  all 
of  them  in  some  way  truly  riotous  or  luxuri- 
ous, lavishing  away  tliemselves,  and  their 
days,  upon  the  poor  perishing  delights  of  sin, 
each  according  to  his  own  palate  and  humor. 
As  all  persons  that  are  riotous,  in  the  com- 
mon sense  of  it,  gluttons  or  drunkards,  do  ' 
not  love  the  same  kind  of  meals  or  drink,  but 
have  several  relishes  or  appetites,  yet  they 
agree  in  the  nature  of  the  sin  ;  so  the  notion 
enlarged  after  that  same  manner,  to  the  dif-  I 
ferent  custoiu  of  corrupt  nature,  takes  in  all 
the  ways  of  sin  :  some  are  glutting  in,  and 
continually  drunk  with  pleasures  and  carnal  | 
enjoyments;  others,  with  the  cares  of  this 
life,  which  our  Savior  reckons  with  surfeit- 
ing and  drunkenness,  as  being  a  kind  of  it, 
and  surcharging  the  heart  as  they  do:  as 
there  he  expresses  it,  Luke  xxi.  34,  Take 
heed  to  yourselves,  lest  at  any  time  your 
hearts  be  overcharged  with  surfeiting  and 
drunkenness,  and  cares  of  this  life.  What- 
soever it  is  that  draws  away  tlie  heart  from 
God,  that,  how  plausible  soever,  doth  de- 
bauch and  destroy  us:  we  spend  and  undo 
ourselves  upon  it,  as  the  word  signifies, 
daoiTiii.a  making  havoc  of  all.  And  the  other  ; 
word, '''  ''  Y  I' 5  signifies  profusion,  and  disso- 
lute lavishing,  a  pouring  out  of  the  atfections 
upon  vanity  ;  they  are  scattered  and  defiled 
as  water  spilt  upon  the  ground,  that  can  not 
be  cleansed  nor  gathered  up  again.  And,  in- 
deed, it  passes  all  our  skill  and  strength,  to 
recover  and  recollect  our  hearts  for  God  :  he 
only  can  do  it  for  himself.  He  who  made  it, 
can  gather  it,  and  cleanse  it,  and  make  it  j 
anew,  and  unite  it  to  himself  Oh  !  what  a 
scattered,  broken,  unstable  thing  is  the  car- 
nal heart,  till  it  be  changed,  falling  in  love 
with  every  gay  folly  it  meets  withal,  and  run-  j 
ning  out  to  rest  profusely  upon  th.ngs  like  its 
vain  self,  which  suit  and  agree  with  it,  and 
Berve  its  Iwsts  !  It  can  dream  and  nuise  upon 
these  long  enough,  upon  anything  that  feeds 
'Jie  earthliness  or  pride  of  it ;  it  can  be  prodi-  ! 


gal  of  hours,  and  let  out  floods  of  thoughts, 
where  a  little  is  too  much,  but  is  bounded 
and  straitened  where  all  are  too  little  ;  lialh 
not  one  fixed  thought  in  a  whole  day  to 
spare  for  God. 

And  truly,  this  running  out  of  the  heart  is 
a  continual  drunkenness  and  madness  :  it  is 
not  capable  of  reason,  and  will  not  he  stop- 
ped in  its  current  by  any  j)ersuasiou  ;  it  is 
mad  upon  its  idols,  as  the  prophet  speaks, 
Jer.  1.  38.  You  may  as  well  speak  to  a  riv- 
er in  its  course,  and  bid  it  slay,  as  speak  to 
an  iiupenitent  sinner  in  the  course  of  his  in- 
iquity ;  and  all  the  other  means  you  can  use, 
is  but  as  the  putting  of  your  finger  to  a  rap- 
id stream,  to  stay  it.  But  there  is  a  Hand 
that  can  both  stop  and  turn  the  most  impet- 
uous torrent  of  the  heart,  be  it  even  the  heart 
of  a  king,  which  will  least  endure  any  other 
controlment.  Prov.  xxi.  1. 

Now,  as  the  ungodly  world  naturally  moves 
to  this  profusion  with  a  strong  and  swift  mo- 
tion, runs  to  it,  so,  it  runs  together  to  it,  and 
that  makes  the  current  both  the  stronger  and 
the  swifter ;  as  a  number  of  brooks  falling 
into  one  main  channel,  make  a  mighty 
stream.  And  every  man  naturally  is,  in  his 
birth,  and  in  the  course  of  his  life,  just  as  a 
brook,  that  of  itself  is  carried  to  that  stream 
of  sin  which  is  in  the  world,  and  then  falling 
into  it,  is  carried  rapidly  along  with  it.  And  if 
every  sinner,  taken  apart,  be  so  incontrovert- 
ible by  all  created  power  how  much  more 
hard  a  task  is  a  public  reformation,  ihe  turn- 
ing of  a  land  from  its  course  of  wickedness ! 
All  that  is  set  to  dam  up  their  way,  doth  at 
the  best  but  stay  them  a  little,  and  they 
swell,  and  rise,  and  run  over  with  more  noise 
and  violence  than  if  they  had  not  been  stop 
ped.  Thus  we  find  outward  restraints  provt. 
and  thus  the  very  public  judgments  of  God  oi' 
us.  They  may  have  made  a  little  interruption, 
but,  upon  the  abatement  of  them,  the  course 
of  sin,  in  all  kinds,  seems  to  be  no'-  mor« 
fierce,  as  it  were,  to  regain  the  time  lost  in 
that  constrained  forbearance.  So  that  we  see 
the  need  of  much  prayer  to  entreat  his  pow- 
erful  hand,  that  can  turn  the  course  of  Jor- 
dan, that  he  would  work,  not  a  temporary, 
but  an  abiding  change  of  the  course  of  this 
land,  and  cause  many  souls  to  look  upon  Je- 
sus Christ  and  flow  into  him,  as  the  word  is 
in  Psalm  xxxiv.  5. 

This  is  their  course,  but  you  run  not  with 
them.  The  godly  are  a  small  and  weak  com- 
pany, and  yet,  run  counter  to  the  grand  tor 
rent  of  the  world,  just  against  them.  And 
there  is  a  Spirit  within  them,  whence  that 
their  contrary  motion  flows;  a  Spirit  strong 
enough  to  maintain  it  in  them,  against  all 
the  crowd  and  combined  course  of  the  un- 
godly. Greater  ts  he  that  is  in  you,  than  he 
that  is  in  the  ivorld.  1  John  iv.  4.  As  Lot  m 
Sodom,  his  righteous  soul  was  not  carried 
with  them,  but  was  vexed  with  their  ungodly 
doings.  There  is,  to  a  believer,  the  example 
of  Christ,  to  set  against  the  example  of  the 


Ver.  4,  5.J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


293 


world, and  theSpiril  of  Cliristagainst  the  spirit 
of  the  world  ;  and  these  are  by  far  the  more 
excellent  and  the  stronger.  Faith  looking  to 
him,  and  drawing  virtue  from  him,  makes 
the  soul  surmount  all  discouragements  and 
oppositions.  So,  Heb.  xii.  2:  Looking  to 
Jesus :  and  that  not  only  as  an  example 
worthy  lo  oppose  to  all  the  world's  exam- 
ples: t1ie  saints  were  so,  yet  he  more  than 
ihey  all  ;  but  further,  he  is  the  Author  and 
Finisher  of  our  faith  ;  and  so  we  eye  hira, 
as  having  endured  the  cross,  and  despised 
the  shame,  and  as  having  sat  down  at  the 
right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God,  not  only 
that,  in  doing  so,  we  may  I'ollow  him  in  that 
way,  unto  that  end,  as  our  pattern,  but  as 
our  head,  from  whom  we  borrow  our  strength 
so  to  follow  the  Author  and  Finisher  of  our 
faith.  And  so,  I  John  v.  4:  This  is  our  vic- 
tory, whereby  we  overcome  the  world,  even 
our  faith. 

The  Spirit  of  God  shows  the  believer 
clearly  both  the  baseness  of  the  ways  of  sin, 
and  the  wretched  measure  of  their  end. 
That  divine  light  discovers  the  fading  and 
false  blush  of  the  pleasures  of  sin,  that  there 
is  nothing  under  them  but  true  deformity  and 
rottermess,  which  the  deluded,  gross  world 
does  not  see,  but  takes  the  first  appearance 
of  it  for  true  and  solid  beauty,  and  so  is  en- 
amored with  a  »  painted  strumpet.  And  as 
ne  sees  the  vileness  of  that  love  of  sin,  he 
sees  the  final  unhajipiness  of  it,  that  her 
ways  lead  to  the  chainhers  of  death.  Me- 
thinks  a  believer  is  as  one  standing  upon  a 
high  tower,  who  sees  the  way  wherein  the 
world  runs,  in  a  valley,  as  an  unavoidable 
precipice,  a  steep  edge  hanging  over  the  bot- 
tomless pit,  where  all  that  are  not  reclaimed, 
fall  over  before  they  be  aware  :  this  they,  in 
iheir  low  way,  perceive  not,  and  therefore, 
walk  and  run  on  in  the  smooth  [)l(!asures  and 
ease  of  it  toward  their  perdition  ;  but  he 
that  sees  the  end,  will  not  run  with  them. 

And  as  he  hath,  by  that  light  of  the  Spirit, 
this  clear  reason  for  thinking  on  and  taking 
another  course,  so,  by  that  Spirit,  he  hath  a 
very  natural  bent  to  a  contrary  motion,  so 
that  he  can  not  be  one  with  them.  That 
Spirit  moves  him  upward  whence  it  came, 
and  makes  that,  in  so  far  as  he  is  renewed, 
his  natural  motion.  Though  be  hath  a  clog 
of  flesh  that  cleaves  to  him,  and  so  breeds 
him  some  didiculty,  yet,  in  the  strength  (jf 
that  new  nature,  he  overcomes  it,  and  goes 
on  till  he  attain  his  end,  where  all  the  diffi- 
culty in  the  way  presently  is  over-rewarded 
and  forgotten.  This  makes  amends  for  ev- 
ery weary  step,  that  every  one  of  those  who 
walk  in  tLat  way,  shall  appear  in  Zion  he- 
fore  (rod.    Psalm  Ixxxiv.  G. 

2.  VVe  have  their  o[)pi)site  thoughts  and 
speeches  of  each  other.  They  think  it  strange, 
speaking  evil  of  you.  The  Christian  and  the 
carnal  man  are  most  wonderful  to  each  olher. 
The  one  wonders  to  see  the  other  walk  so 
Kirictly,  and  deny  himself  to  those  carnal 


liberties  which  the  most  take,  and  take  fot 
so  necessary,  that  they  think  they  could  not 
live  without  them.  And  the  Christian  tliinks 
it  strange  thai  men  should  be  so  bewitched, 
and  still  remain  children  in  the  vanity  of 
their  turmoil,  wearying  and  humoring  them- 
selves from  morning  to  night,  running  afte« 
stories  and  fancies,  ever  busy  doing  nothing 
wonders  that  the  delights  of  earth  and  sin 
can  so  Ions  entertain  and  please  men,  and 
persuade  them  to  give  Jesus  Christ  so  many 
refusals,  to  turn  from  their  life  and  happi- 
ness, and  choose  to  be  miserable,  yea,  and 
take  much  pains  to  make  themselves  misera- 
ble. He  knows  the  depravedness  and  blind- 
ness of  nature  in  this,  knows  it  by  himself, 
that  once  he  was  so,  and  therefore  wonders  not 
so  much  at  them  as  they  do  at  him  ;  yet,  the 
unreasonableness  and  phrensy  of  that  course 
now  appear  to  him  in  so  strong  a  light,  that 
he  can  not  but  wonder  at  these  woful  mis- 
takes. But  the  ungodly  wonder  far  more  at 
him,  not  knowing  the  inward  cause  of  his 
different  choice  and  way.  The  believer,  as 
we  said,  is  upon  the  hill;  he  is  going  up, 
and  looking  back  on  them  in  the  valley,  sees 
their  way  tending  to,  and  ending  in  death, 
and  calls  them  to  retire  from  it  as  loud  as  he 
can  ;  he  tells  them  the  danger,  but  either 
they  hear  not,  nor  understand  his  language, 
or  will  not  believe  him  :  finding  present  case 
and  delight  in  iheir  way,  they  will  not  con- 
sider and  suspect  the  end  of  it,  but  they 
judge  him  the  fool  who  will  not  share  witk 
them,  and  take  that  way  where  such  multi 
tudes  go,  and  with  such  case,  and  some  ol 
them  with  their  train,  and  horses,  and  coach 
es,  and  all  their  pnin]),  while  he,  and  a  few 
straggling  poor  creatures  like  him,  are  climb 
ing  up  a  craggy  steep  hill,  and  will  by  no 
means  come  off  fr(ini  that  way,  and  partake 
of  theirs  ;  not  knowing,  or  not  believing  tha« 
at  the  top  of  that  hill  he  climbs,  is  that  hap 
py  glorious  city  the  new  Jerusalem,  whereo* 
he  is  a  citizen,  and  whither  he  is  tendini; 
not  believing  that  he  knows  the  end  both  o( 
their  way  and  of  his  own,  and  theref'orw 
would  reclaim  them  if  he  could,  but  will  by 
no  means  return  unto  them:  as  the  Lord 
commanded  the  prophet.  Let  Ihemrrturn  unto 
thee,  liul  return  not  thou  unto  them.  Jer.  xv.  19. 

The  world  thinks  it  strange  that  a  Chris- 
tian can  spend  so  much  time  in  secret  prayer, 
not  knowing,  nor  being  al)le  to  conceive  of 
the  sweetness  of  the  communion  with  God 
which  be  attains  in  that  way.  Yea,  while 
he  feels  it  not,  how  sweet  it  is,  beyond  the 
world's  enjoyments,  to  be  but  seeking  after  it, 
and  waiting  for  it  !  Oh,  the  delight  that  there 
is  in  the  bitterest  exercise  of  repentance,  in 
the  very  tears,  much  more  in  the  succeeding 
harvest  of  joy  !  Inconlinenlcs  vcrx  volupta- 
tis  i^nari,  says  Aristotle:  The  intemi)erate 
are  strangers  to  true  pleasure.  It  is  strange 
unto  a  carnal  man,  to  see  the  child  of  God 
disdain  the  pleasures  of  sin  ;  be  knows  not  the 
higher  and  jiurer  delights  and  j)Ieasures  that 


A  COMMEPs'TARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  IV 


•.he  I 'liristian  is  called  to,  and  of  which  he 
haih,  it  liiay  be,  sotne  pan  at  preseiii,  but, 
however,  the  luliii'tiii  of  them  in  assured  hi)i)e. 

The  siraiii^eness  ol'  the  world's  way  to  the! 
Christian,  and  of  his  to  it,  thouirh  that  is 
somewhat  unnatural,  yet  all'ects  them  very 
ditlVrciiily.    He  looks  on  the  deluded  sinner 
with  piiy,  they  on  him  with  liate.  Their 
part,  whii-h  is  here  expressed,  of  wondering, 
breaks  out  in  revilin<^  :  T/iei/  .spcuk  evil  of  you  ;  ' 
and  what  is  their  voice  ?  "  \V  hat  mean  tiiese  1 
precise  fools  ?"  will  they  readily  sav.  "  What 
course  is  this  they  lake,  contrary  to  all  the 
world  ?    Will  they  make  a  new  reliu;ion,  and 
condetun  all  their  honest,  civil  neighbors  that 
are  uot  like  them  ?  Ay,  forsooili,  do  all  go  to  ! 
hell,  think  you,  except  you,  and  those  that  i 
follow  your  way  ?    We  are  for  no  more  than  | 
good  fellowship  and  liberty  ;  and  as  for  so  j 
much  reading  and  praying,  those  are  but 
brain-sick,  melancholy  conceits:  a  man  may 
go  to  heaven  like  his  neighbor,  without  all 
this  ado."    Thus  they  let  tiy  at  their  pleas- 
ure.    But  this  trouides  not  the  composed 
Christian's  mind  at  all:  while  curs  snarl  and 
bark  about  him,  the  sober  traveller  goes  on 
his  way,  and  regards  them  not.    Hf  that  is 
accjuainied  with  the  way  of  holiness,  can 
more  than  endure  the  counter-blasts  and  airs 
of  scofls  and  revilings  ;  he  accounts  them  his  \ 
glory  and  iiis  riches.    So  Moses  esteemed  the 
reproach  of  Christ  greater  riches  than  the 
treasures  in  Effi/pt.  Heb.  xi.  26.    And  beside 
many  other  things  to  animate,  we  have  this 
which  is  here  expressed: — 

odly.  The  supreme  and  final  judgment.  Oh, 
how  full  is  it !  Thei/  shall  give  account  to  Hun 
that  is  ready  to  judge  the  yu/ck  and  the  dead 
— hath  this  in  readiness,  r;,  inn/"'  *  ix"""'-  liath 
the  day  set ;  and  it  shall  surely  come,  though 
you  think  it  far  off. 

Though  the  wicked  themselves  forget  their 
scoffs  against  the  godly,  and  though  the  Chris- 
tian slights  them,  and  lets  them  pass,  they 
pass  not  so  ;  they  are  all  registered,  and  the 
great  court-day  shall  call  them  to  account  for 
all  these  riots  and  excesses,  and  withal,  for 
all  their  reproaches  of  the  godly,  who  would 
not  run  with  ihem  in  these  ways.  Tremble, 
then,  ye  despisers  and  mockers  of  holiness, 
though  you  come  not  near  it.  What  will  you 
do  when  those  you  reviled  shall  appear  glori- 
ous in  your  sigtit,  and  their  King,  the  king  of 
saints  here,  much  more  glorious,  and  his  glory 
their  joy,  and  all  terror  to  you?  Oh  I  then, 
all  faces  that  could  look  out  disdainfully  upon 
religion  and  the  professors  of  it,  shall  >r(ilher 
blackness,  and  be  bathed  with  shame,  and  the 
despised  saints  of  God  shall  shout  so  much 
the  more  for  joy. 

You  that  would  rejoice,  then,  in  the  appear- 
ing of  that  holy  Lord  and  Judseof  the  world, 
let  your  way  be  now  in  holiness.  Avoid  and 
hate  the  common  ways  of  the  wicked  world  ; 
thev  live  in  their  foolish  opinion,  and  that 
shall  (juickly  end,  but  the  sentence  of  that  day 
•hall  stand  for  ever.  i 


Ver.  6.  But  (or  this  causo  was  Iho  gospel  preaolieJ 
also  to  thoiii  that  are  dead,  that  they  might  be 
judged  according  to  inon  in  the  flesh,  hut  live  ac 
cording  to  (iod  in  the  Spirit. 

It  is  a  thing  t)f  prime  concernment  for  i 
Christian,  to  be  rinhtly  informed,  and  frequent 
ly  put  in  mind,  what  is  the  true  estate  am? 
nature  of  a  Christian  ;  for  this,  the  multitudf 
of  those  that  bear  that  name,  either  know 
not,  or  commonly  foriret,  and  so  are  carried 
away  with  the  vain  fancies  and  mistakes  ol 
the  world.  The  apostle  hath  characterized 
Christianity  very  clearly  to  us  in  this  place, 
by  that  which  is  the  very  nature  of  it,  con- 
formity  u'ith  Christ,  and  that  which  is  neces- 
sarily consequent  upon  that,  dtsconforniity 
with  the  icorld.  And  as  the  nature  and  natu- 
ral properties  of  things  hold  universally,  those 
who  in  all  ages  are  effectually  called  by  the 
gospel,  are  tiius  moulded  and  framed  by  it. 
Thus  it  was,  says  the  apostle,  with  your 
brethren  who  are  now  at  rest,  as  many  as  re- 
ceived the  gospel  ;  and  for  this  end  was  it 
preached  to  them,  that  they  might  be  judged 
according  to  men  in  the  flesh,  but  live  accord 
ing  to  God  in  the  Spirit. 

We  have  here,  1.  The  preaching  of  the 
gospel  as  the  suitable  means  to  a  certain  end. 
2.  The  express  nature  of  that  end. 

1.  For  this  cause  icas  the  gospel  preached. 
There  is  a  particular  end,  and  that  very  im- 
portant, for  which  the  preaching  of  the  gos- 
pel is  intended  :  this  end  many  consider  not. 
hearing  it  as  if  it  were  to  no  end,  or  not  pro- 
pounding a  fixed,  determined  end  in  the  hear 
ing.  This,  therefore,  is  to  be  considered  by 
those  who  jireach  this  gospel,  that  ihey  aim 
aright  in  it  at  this  end,  and  at  no  other — no 
self-end.  The  leiral  priests  were  not  to  be 
squint-eyed  (Lev.  xxi.  20),  nor  must  evangeli- 
cal ministers  be  thus  squinting  to  base  gain, 
"or  vain  applause.  They  should  also  make  it 
their  study,  to  find  in  themselves  this  work, 
this  living  to  God  ;  otherwise,  they  can  not 
skilfully  or  faithfully  apply  their  gifts  to  work 
this  effect  on  their  hearers:  and  therefore  ac- 
quaintance with  God  is  most  necessary. 

How  sounds  it,  to  many  of  us  at  least,  but 
as  a  well-contrived  story,  whose  use  is  to 
amuse  us,  and  possible  delight  us  a  little,  and 
there  is  an  end — and  indeed  no  end,  for  this 
turns  the  most  serious  and  most  glorious  of 
all  messages  into  an  empty  sound.  If  we 
awake  and  give  it  a  hearing,  it  is  much  :  but 
for  anything  further,  how  few  deeply  before- 
hand consider  :'  "  I  have  a  dead  heart ;  there- 
fore will  I  go  unto  the  word  of  life,  that  it 
may  be  quickened.  It  is  frozen  ;  I  will  gc 
and  lay  it  before  the  warm  beams  of  that  Sun 
which  shines  in  the  gospel.  My  corruptions 
are  mighty  and  strong,  and  grace,  if  there  be 
any  in  my  heart,  is  exceeding  weak  ;  but 
there  is  in'lhe  gospel  a  power  to  weaken  and 
kill  sin,  and  to  strengthen  grace,  and  this 
being  the  intent  of  my  wise  God  in  appoint- 
ing it,  it  shall  be  my  desire  and  purpose  in 
resorting  to  it,  t(  ^nd  it  to  me  according  to 


•Ver.  6.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


293 


liis  gracious  design  ;  to  have  faith  in  m)^ 
Christ,  the  fountain  of  my  life,  more  strength- 
ened, and  made  more  active  in  drawing  from 
him  ;  to  iiave  my  lieart  more  refined  and  spir- 
itualized, and  to  have  the  sluice  of  repent- 
ance opened,  and  my  alfections  to  Divine 
things  enlarged,  more  hatred  of  sin,  and  more 
love  of  God  and  communion  witli  him." 

Ask  yourselves  concerning  former  times  ; 
and,  to  take  yourselves  even  now,  inquire 
within,  "  Why  came  I  hither  this  day  ?  What 
had  I  in  mine  eye  and  desires  this  morning 
ere  I  came  forth,  and  in  my  way  as  I  was 
coming  ?  Did  I  seriously  propound  an  end,  or 
not  ;  and  what  was  my  end  ?"  Nor  doih  the 
mere  custom  of  mentioning  this  in  prayer, 
satisfy  the  question  ;  for  this,  as  other  such 
things  usually  do  in  our  hand,  may  turn  to  a 
lileless  form,  and  have  no  heat  of  spiritual  af- 
fection, none  of  David's  panting  and  breathing 
after  God  in  his  ordinances  ;  such  desires  as 
will  not  be  stilled  without  a  measure  of  at- 
tainment, as  the  child's  desire  of  the  breast, 
as  our  apostle  resembles  it,  ch.  ii.  1. 

And  then,  again,  being  returned  home,  re- 
flect on  your  hearts :  "  Much  hath  been  heard, 
but  is  there  anything  done  by  it  ?  Have  I 
gained  ray  point?  ti  was  not  simply  to  pass 
a  little  time  that  I  went,  or  to  pass  it  with 
delight  in  hearing,  rejoiciri'^  in  that  /is^/it,  as 
they  did  in  St.  John  Baptist's  for  a  season 
[to  .s  .;,<,,.  ],  as  long  as  the  hour  lasts.  It  was 
not  to  have  my  ear  pleased,  but  my  heart 
changed  :  not  to  learn  some  new  notions,  and 
carry  them  cold  in  my  head,  but  to  be  quick 
ened  and  purified,  and  reneired  in  thr  spirit 
of  my  mm//.  Is  this  done?  Think  I  now 
with  greater  esteem  of  Christ,  and  the  life  of 
faith,  and  the  happine-s  of  a  Chrisiian  ?  And 
are  such  thoughts  solid  ;md  abiding  wiih  me? 
What  sin  have  I  lefi  behind  ?  What  grace  of 
the  Spirit  have  I  brought  home?  Or  what 
new  degree,  or,  at  least,  new  desire  of  it,  a 
living  desire,  that  will  follow  its  point  ?  Oh  ! 
this  were  good  repetition." 

li  is  a  strange  folly  in  multitudes  of  us,  to 
set  ourselves  no  mark,  to  propound  no  end  in 
the  hearing  of  the  gospel.    The  merchant 
sails  not  merely  that  he  may  sail,  but  for ; 
traffic,  and  traffics  that  he  may  be  rich.   The  ' 
nusbandman  ploughs  not  merely  to  keep  him-  [ 
self  busy,  with  no  further  end,  but  ploughs' 
that  he  may  sow,  and  sows  that  he  may  reap  | 
with  advantage.    And  shall  we  do  the  most 
excellent  and  fruitful  work  fruitlessly,  hear 
only  to  hear,  and  look  no  further?    This  is 
indeed  a  great  vanity,  and  a  great  misery,  to 
lose  that  labor,  and  gain  nothing  by  it.wliich 
duly  used,  would  be,  of  all  others,  most  ad- 
vantageous and  gainful  :  and  yet  all  meetings 
are  full  of  this  ! 

Now,  when  you  come,  it  is  not  simply  to 
hear  a  discourse,  and  relish  or  dislike  it  in 
hearing,  but  a  matter  of  life  and  death  ;  of 
eternal  death,  and  eternal  life  ;  and  the  spir- 
itual life,  begotten  and  nrjurisbed  by  the  word, 
^  the  beginning  of  tiiat  eternal  life.  It  follows, 


To  them  that  arc  dead.]  By  ■vchio.h,  1  con- 
ceive, he  intends  such  as  had  heard  and  be- 
lieved the  gospel,  when  it  came  to  them, 
and  now  were  dead.  And  this,  I  think,  he 
doth  to  strengthen  those  brethren  to  whom 
he  writes  ;  h'e  commends  the  gospel,  to  the 
intent  that  they  might  not  think  the  condition 
and  end  of  it  hard  :  as  our  Savior  mollifies  the 
matter  of  outward  sufferings  thus:  So  perse- 
cuted  they  the  prophets  that  were  before  you, 
Matthew  v.  12  ;  and  the  apostle  afterward,  in 
this  chapter,  uses  the  same  reason  in  that 
same  subject.  So  here,  that  they  might  not 
judge  the  point  of  mortification  he  presses,  so 
grievous,  as  naturally  men  will  do,  he  tells 
them,  it  is  the  constant  end  of  the  gospel,  and 
that  they  who  have  been  saved  by  it,  went 
that  same  way  he  points  out  to  them.  They 
that  are  dead  before  you,  died  in  this  way 
that  I  press  on  you,  before  they  died  ;  and 
the  gospel  was  preached  to  them  for  that  very 
end. 

Men  pass  away,  and  others  succeed,  but 
the  gospel  is  still  the  same,  hath  the  same 
tenor  and  sub.--tance,  and  the  same  ends.  So 
Solomon  speaks  of  the  heavens  and  earth, 
that  they  remain  the  same,  \vhile  one  genera- 
tion passes,  and  another  co/neth.  Eccl.  i.  4. 
The  gospel  surpasses  both  in  its  stability,  as 
our  Savior  testifies:  They  shall  pass  away, 
hut  not  one  jot  of  this  word.  Matthew  V.  18. 
And  indeed  they  wear  and  wax  old,  as  the 
apostle  teaches  us  ;  but  the  gospel  is,  from 
one  age  to  another,  of  mast  unalterable  in- 
tegrity, hath  still  the  same  vigor  and  power- 
ful influence  as  at  the  first. 

They  who  formerly  received  the  gospel,  re- 
ceived it  uj)on  these  terms,  therefore  think  it 
not  hard.  And  they  arc  now  (/cv/rf  ;  all  the 
difficulty  of  that  work  of  dying  to  sin,  is  now 
over  with  them.  If  ihey  had  not  died  to  their 
sins  by  the  gos[)el,  they  had  died  in  them,  af- 
ter a  while,  and  so  died  eternally.  It  is  there- 
fore a  wise  prevention,  to  have  sin  judged 
and  put  to  death  in  us  before  we  die.  If  we 
will  not  part  with  sin,  if  we  die  in  it,  and 
with  it.  We  and  our  sin  perish  together:  but 
if  it  die  first  before  us,  tlien  we  live  for  ever. 

And  what  ihinkest  iIhju  of  thy  carnal  will 
and  all  the  delirrhis  of  sin  ?  What  is  the  long- 
est term  of  its  life  ?  Uncertain  it  is,  but  most 
certainly  very  short  ;  thou  and  these  [)leasures 
must  be  severed  and  i)arted  within  a  little 
time  :  however,  thou  must  die,  and  then  they 
die,  and  you  never  meet  ag<iin.  Now,  were 
it  not  the  wisest  course  to  pari  a  little  sooner 
with  them,  and  let  them  die  before  thee,  that 
thou  mayest  inherit  eternal  life,  and  eternal 
delights  in  it,  pleasures  for  evermore  ?  It  is 
the  only  wise  bargain  :  let  us  therefore  delay 
it  no  longer. 

This  is  our  season  of  enjoying  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  gospel.  Others  heard  it  before  us 
in  the  places  which  now  we  fill  ;  and  now 
they  are  removed,  and  we  must  remove  short- 
ly, and  leave  our  places  to  others,  to  speak 
and  hear  in.  Ii  is  hi^rh  time  we  were  consid- 


8U6 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  IV 


crmy;  what  w  o  do  liere,  to  what  end  we  sjieak 
and  hear:  his;h  time  to  hiy  hold  on  tliat  sal- 
vation wiiich  is  held  forth  unto  us,  and  that 
we  may  lay  hold  on  it,  to  let  <io  cjur  liold  of 
sin  and  those  perishing  thinijs  we  hold  so 
firm,  and  eleave  so  fast  to.  Uo'they  that  are 
de;id,  wiio  heard  and  oheyed  the  gospel,  now 
repent  of  their  repeniance  and  mortifying  of 
the  liesh  ?  Or  rather,  do  they  not  think  ten 
thousand  times  more  pains,  were  it  for  many 
ages,  all  too  little  for  a  moment  of  that  which 
IU)W  they  enjoy,  and  shall  enjoy  to  eternity  ? 
And  they  that  are  dead,  who  heard  the  go.s- 
pel  and  slighted  it,  if  such  a  thing  might  he, 
what  would  ihey  give  for  one  of  those  opjior- 
tunities  which  now  we  daily  have,  and  daily 
lose,  and  have  no  fruit  or  esteem  of  them  ! 
You  have  lately  seen,  at  least  many  ol'  you, 
and  you  that  shifted  the  sight,  have  heard  of 
numbers,  cut  oil"  in  a  little  time,  whole  I'ami- 
lies  swiept  away  hy  the  late  stroke  of  God's 
hand,*  many  of  which  did  think  no  other  but 
that  they  migiit  have  siill  been  with  you  here 
in  this  place  and  exercise,  at  this  time,  and 
many  years  after  this.  And  yel,  who  hath 
laid  to  heart  the  lengthening  out  of  his  day, 
and  considered  it  more  as  an  opportunity  of 
securing  that  higher  and  happier  life,  than  as 
a  little  protracting  of  this  wretched  life,  which 
is  hastening  to  an  end  ?  Oh  I  therefore  be  en- 
treated to-day,  while  il  is  called  To-darj,  not 
to  harden  your  hearts.  Though  the  pesti- 
lence doth  not  now  atfright  you  so,  yet,  that 
standing  mortality,  and  the  decay  of  these 
earthen  lodges,  tell  us  that  shortly  we  shall 
cease  to  preach  and  hear  this  gospel.  Did 
we  consider,  it  would  excite  us  to  a  more  ear- 
nest search  after  our  evidences  of  that  eternal 
life  that  is  set  before  us  in  the  gospel  :  and 
we  should  seek  them  in  the  characters  of  that 
spiritual  life  which  is  the  beginning  of  eter- 
nal life  within  us,  and  is  wrought  by  the  gos- 
pel in  all  the  heirs  of  salvation. 

Think  therefore  wisely  of  these  two  things, 
of  what  is  the  pro[)er  end  of  ill  e  gospel,  and 
of  the  aiiproaching  end  of  thy  .'  -.ys  ;  and  let 
thy  ceriainty  of  this  latter,  drive  thee  to  seek 
more  certainty  of  the  former,  that  thou  may  est 
partake  of  it  ;  and  then,  this  again  will  make 
the  thoughts  of  the  other  sweet  to  thee.  'J'hat 
visage  of  deaili,  that  is  so  terrible  ;o  unchang- 
ed sinners,  shall  be  amiable  to  thine  eve. 
Having  found  a  life  in  the  gospel  as  happy  and 
lasting  as  this  miserable  and  vanishing,  and 
Seeing  the  perfecnion  of  that  life  on  the  othe.- 
side  of  death,  thou  wilt  long  for  the  passage. 

Ee  more  serious  in  this  matter  of  daily 
Hearing  the  gospel.  Consider  why  it  is  sent' 
to  thee,  and  what  it  brings,  and  think — It  is 
too  long  I  have  slighted  its  message,  and 
many  who  have  done  so  are  cut  off,  and  shall 
hear  il  no  more  ;  I  have  it  once  more  invi- 
ting me,  and  to  me  this  may  be  the  last  in- 
vitation. And  in  these  tlioiiglits,  ere  you 
3ome,  bow  your  knee  lo  the  Fatlier  of  Spirits, 
hat  'his  one  thing  may  be  granted  you,  that 
•  A.  U.  166£. 


your  souls  may  find  at  length  the  lively  and 
mighty  power  of  hisSjiiril  upon  yours,  in  the 
hearing  of  tiiis  gospel,  that  you  may  be  ludi^. 

,  ed  accordini;  to  men  tn  the  fcsh,  but  live  aa 
cordiiiji;  to  God  in  the  Sptrit. 

2.  Thus  is  the  particular  nature  of  that  end 
expressed.  And  not  to  perplex  you  with 
various  senses,  the  apostle  intends,  1  con- 
ceive, no  other  than  the  dying  to  the  world 

i  and  sin,  and  living  unto  God,  which  is  h'li 
main  subject  and  scope  in  the  foregoing  dis- 
course. Thai  death  was  before  called  a  snf- 
fering  in  the  Jlesh,  which  is  in  efl'ect  the 
same  ;  and  therefore,  though  the  wcjrds  may 
he  drawn  another  way,  yet  it  is  strange  that 
interpreters  have  been  so  far  wide  ol'  this  their 
genuine  and  agreeable  sense,  and  that  they 
have  been  by  almost  all  of  them  taken  in  some 
other  import. 

To  be  judged  in  the  fesh,  in  the  present 
sense,  is  to  die  to  sin,  or  that  sin  die  in  us: 
and  [].]  It  is  thus  expressed  suitably  to  the 
nature  of  il;  it  is  to  the  flesh  a  violciu  death, 
and  it  is  according  to  a  sentence  judicially 
l)ronounced  against  it.  Thai  guilty  and  mise- 
rable life  of  sin,  is  in  the  gospel  adjudged  to 
death  :  there  that  arrest  and  sentence  is  clear 
and  full.  SeeKom.  vi.  6,  &-C.  ;  viii.  13.  That 
sin  must  die  in  order  that  the  soul  may  live : 
it  must  be  crucified  in  us,  and  we  to  it,  that 
we  may  partake  of  the  life  of  Christ,  and  of 
happiness  in  him.  And  this  is  called  to  be 
judged  in  the  Jlesh,  to  have  this  sentence  exe- 
cuted. [2.]  The  thing  is  the  rather  spoken 
of  here  under  the  term  of  being  judged,  in 
counterbalance  of  thai  judgment  mentioned 
immediately  before,  ver.  n,  the  last  judgment 
of  quick  and  dead,  wherein  they  who  would 
not  be  thus  judged,  but  mocked  and  despised 
those  that  were,  shall  fall  under  a  far  more 
terrible  judgment,  and  the  sentence  of  a  lieavy 
death  indeed,  even  everlasting  death  ;  though 
they  think  they  shall  escape  and  enjoy  liberty 
in  living  in  sin.  And  that  lo  be  judged  accord- 
in<r  to  men,  is,  I  conceive,  added,  to  signify 
the  connaturalness  of  the  life  of  sin  to  a  man's 
now  corrupt  nature  ;  that  men  do  judge  it  a 
death  indeed,  to  be  severed  and  pulled  from 
their  sins,  and  that  a  cruel  death  ;  and  the 
sentence  of  it  in  the  gospel  is  a  heavy  sen- 
tence, a  hard  saying  to  a  carnal  heart,  that 
he  must  give  up  all  his  sinful  delights,  must 
die  indeed  in  self-denial,  must  be  separated 
from  himself,  wl  h  is  to  die,  if  he  will  be 
joined  with  Chri;t,  and  live  in  him.  Thus 
men  judge  that  they  are  adjudged  to  a  ]iain- 
ful  death  by  the  sentence  of  the  gospel.  Al- 
though it  is  that  they  may  truly  and  happily 
live,  yet  they  understand  it  not  so.  Tliey  see 
the  death,  the  parting  with  sin  and  ail  its 
pleasures;  but  the  life  they  see  not,  nor  can 
any  know  it  till  they  partake  of  il :  it  is  known 

'  to  him  in  whom  it  exists  ;  it  is  hid  with  Christ 
in  Cod.  Col.  iii.  3.  And  therefore  the  opposi- 
lion  here  is  very  filly  thus  fepresenied,  thii 
the  death  is  according  to  men  in  the  fesh,  t'Hi 

I  the  life  is  according  to  God  in  the  Spirit, 


Ver.  6.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


297 


As  the  Christian  is  adjudged  to  this  death 
ill  the  Jle.-.h  by  the  gospel,  so  he  is  looked  on 
and  accounted,  by  carnal  men,  as  dead,  for 
that  he  enjoys  not  with  them  what  they  es- 
teem their  life,  and  think  tha«r  could  not  live 
witlioul.  One  that  can  not  carouse  and  swear 
with  profane  men,  is  a  silly  deaa  creature, 
ffood  for  nothing ;  and  he  that  can  bear 
wrongs,  and  luve  him  that  injured  him,  is  a 
poor  spiritless  fool,  hath  no  mettle  or  life  in 
him,  in  the  world's  account.  Thus  is  he 
jjidged  according  to  men  in  the  flesh, — he  is 
as  a  dead  man, — but  lives  according  to  God 
m  the  Spirit;  dead  to  men,  and  alive  to  God, 
as  ver.  2. 

Now,  if  this  life  be  in  thee,  it  will  act.  All 
life  is  in  motion,  and  is  called  an  act,  but 
most  active  of  all  is  this  most  excellent,  and, 
as  I  may  call  it,  most  lively  life.  It  will  be 
moving  toward  God,  often  seeking  to  him, 
making  still  toward  him  as  its  principle  and 
fountain,  exerting  itself  m  holy  and  affec- 
tionate thoughts  of  him  ;  sometimes  on  one 
of  his  sweet  attributes,  sometimes  on  anoth- 
er, as  the  bee  among  the  flowers.  And  as  it 
will  thus  act  witlun,  so  it  will  be  outwardly 
laying  hold  on  all  occasions,  yea,  seeking  out 
ways  and  opportunities  to  be  serviceable  to 
thy  Lord  ;  employing  all  for  him,  commend- 
ing and  extolling  his  goodness,  doing  and  suf- 
fering cheerfully  for  him,  laying  out  the 
strength  of  desires,  and  parts,  and  means,  in 
thy  station,  to  gain  him  glory.  If  thou  be 
alone,  then  not  esteeming  thyself  alone,  but 
with  him,  seeking  to  know  more  of  him,  and 
to  be  made  more  like  him.  If  in  company, 
then  casting  about  how  to  bring  his  name 
into  esteem,  and  to  draw  others  to  a  love  of 
religion  and  holiness  by  speeches,  as  it  may 
be  fit,  and  rnosi  by  the  true  behavior  of  thy 
carriage  ; — tender  over  the  souls  of  others,  to 
do  them  good  to  thy  utmost  ;  thinkin<f,  each 
day,  an  hour  lost  when  thou  art  not  busy  for 
the  honor  and  advantage  of  him  to  whom 
thou  now  livest : — thinking  in  the  morning. 
Now  what  may  I  do  this  day  for  my  God  ? 
How  may  I  most  please  and  glorify  him,  and 
use  my  strensth,  and  wit,  and  my  whole 
eelf,  as  not  mine,  but  his  ?  And  then,  in  the 
evening,  reflecting,  O  Lord,  have  I  seconded 
these  thouL'hts  in  reality  ?  What  glory  hast 
thou  had  by  me  this  day?  Whiilior  went 
my  thoughts  and  endeavors  ?  What  busied 
them  most  ?  Have  I  been  much  with  God  ? 
Have  I  adorned  the  gospel  in  my  converse 
with  others  ? — And  il'  tluju  findest  anything 
done  this  way,  this  life  will  engage  thee  to 
bless  and  acknowledge  him,  the  spring  and 
worker  of  it.  If  thou  hast  stepped  aside, 
were  it  but  to  h7i  appearance  of  evil,  or  if 
nny  fit  season  of  good  hath  escaped  ihee  un- 
profitably,  it  will  lead  thee  to  check  thyself, 
and  to  be  grieved  for  thy  sloth  and  coldness, 
and  to  see  if  more  love  would  not  beget  more 
diligence. 

Try  it  hj  sympathy  and  antipathy,  which 
follow  the  nature  of  things:  as  we  see  in 
38 


]  some  plants  and  creatures  that  can  not  grow, 
can  not  agree  together,  and  oihers  that  do  fa- 

j  vor  and  benefit  mutually.  If  thy  soul  hath 
an  aversion  and  reluctancy  against  whatever 
is  contrary  to  holiness,  it  is  an  evidence  of 
this  new  nature  and  life  ;  thy  heart  rises 
against  wicked  ways  and  speeches,  oaths  and 
cursings,  and  rotten  communication ;  yea, 
thou  canst  not  endure  unworthy  discourses, 
wherein  most  spend  their  time;  thou  findest 
no  relish  in  the  unsavory  societies  of  such  as 
know  not  God.  canst  not  sit  icith  vainpersons, 
bu;  findest  a  delight  in  those  who  have  the 
image  of  God  upon  them,  such  as  partake  of 
that  divine  life,  and  carry  the  evidences  of  il 
in  their  carriage.  David  did  not  disdain  the 
fellowship  of  the  saints,  and  that  it  was  no 
disparagement  to  him,  is  implied  in  the  name 
he  gives  them.  Psalm  xvi.  2,  the  excellent 
ones,  the  magnific  or  noble,  ad  in  :  that  word 
is  taken  from  one  that  signifies  a  robe  or  no- 
ble garment,  adireth,  toga  i/iagnijica:  so 
he  thought  them  nobles  and  kings  as  well 
as  he  :  they  had  robes  royal,  and  therefore 
were  fit  companions  of  kings.    A  spiritual 

I  eye  looks  upon  spiritual  dignity,  and  esteems 
and  loves  them  who  are  bom  of  God,  how 
low  soever  be  their  natural  birth  and  breed- 
ing. The  sons  of  God  have  of  his  Sjiirit  in 
them,  and  are  born  to  the  same  inheritance, 
where  all  shall  have  enough,  and  they  are 
lending  homeward  by  the  conduct  of  the 
same  Spirit  that  is  in  them  ;  so  that  there 
must  be  among  them  a  real  com]ilacency 
and  deliffht  in  one  another. 

And  then,  consider  the  temper  of  thy  heart 
toward  spiritual  things,  the  word  and  ordi- 
nances of  God,  whether  thou  dost  esteem 

;  highly  of  them,  and  delight  in  them  ;  wheth- 

,  er  there  be  compliance  of  the  heart  wiih  di- 

i  vine  truths,  something  in  thee,  that  suits  and 

I  sides  with  them  against  thy  corruptions  ; 
whether  in  thy  affliction  thou  scekest  not  to 
the  puddles  ol' earthly  comforts,  but  hast  thy 
recourse  to  the  sweet  crystal  streams  of  the 
divine  promises,  and  findest  refreshment  in 
them.  It  may  be,  at  some  times,  in  a  spirit- 
ual distemper,  holy  exercises  and  o  dinances 
will  not  have  that  present  sensible  sweetness 
to  a  Christian,  that  he  desires  :  and  some 
will  for  a  long  time  lie  under  dryness  and 
deadness  this  way  ;  yet  there  is  here  an  ev- 

'  idence  of  this  spiritual  life,  that  thou  stayest 
by  the  Lord,  and  relieston  him,  and  wilt  not 
leave  these  holy  means,  how  sapless  soever 

I  to  thy  sense  for  the  present.  Thou  lindest 
for  a  long  time  little  sweetness  in  prayer,  yet 

;  thou  prayest  still,  and,  when  thou  canst  say 
nothing,  yet  oflcrest  at  it,  and  lookest  toward 
Christ  thy  life.  Thou  dost  not  turn  away 
from  these  things  to  seek  consolation  else- 
where, but  as  thou  knowest  that  life  is  in 
Christ,  thon  wilt  stay  till  he  refresh  thee 
with  new  and  lively  influence.  It  is  not  any 
where  but  in  him  ;  as  St.  Peter  said.  Lord, 
whither  should  we  go  ?  Thou  hast  the  words 
of  eternal  life.    John  vi.  GS 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  TV 


Cousiaer  willi  ihyself.  whether  thou  Iiast 
any  knowledire  of  the  firowtli  of  deficiencies 
of  ihis  sjiiiiiual  life  :  for  it  is  here  hut  beiiun, 
and  bri>athes  in  an  air  contrary  to  it,  and 
hid.'res  ill  a  lioii^e  that  often  smol^esand  dark- 
ens it.  Canst  thou  so  on  in  fornial  ])ertorn)- 
ances,  from  one  year  to  anoilier,  and  make 
no  advancement  in  the  inward  exercises  of 
grace,  and  resiest  thou  content  wiili  iliat  ? 
It  is  no  e;o()d  si^n.  But  art  tliou  either  ijain- 
int;  victories  over  sin,  and  further  strength 
of  faiih  and  love,  and  other  graces,  or,  at 
least,  art  thou  earnestly  seeking  these,  and 
bewailing  ihy  wants  and  disappointments  of 
this  kind  ?  Then  thou  livest.  At  the  worst, 
wouldst  thou  rather  grow  this  way,  he  far- 
ther off  from  sin,  and  nearer  to  God,  than 
grow  in  thy  estate,  or  credit  or  honors?  Es- 
teemesl  thou  Tnore  highly  of  nrrace  than  of 
the  whole  world  ?  There  is  life  at  the  root ; 
although  thou  findest  not  that  flourishing 
thou  desirest  :  yet,  the  desire  of  it  is  life  in 
thee.  And,  if  growing  this  way,  art  thou 
content,  wliatsoever  is  thy  outward  estate? 
Canst  thou  solace  thyself  in  the  love  and 
goodness  of  thy  God,  though  the  world  frown 
on  thee?  Art  thou  unahleto  take  comfort  in  the 
smiles  of  the  world,  when  his  face  is  hid?  This 
tells  thee  thou  livest,  and  that  he  is  thy  life. 

Although  many  Ciiristians  have  not  so 
much  sensible  joy,  yet  they  account  spiritual 
joy  and  the  light  of  God's  countenance  the 
only  true  joy,  and  all  other  without  it,  mad- 
ness :  and  they  cry,  and  sigh,  and  wait  for  it. 
Meanwhile,  not  only  duty  and  the  hopes  of 
attaining  a  better  state  in  religion,  hut  even 
love  to  God,  makes  them  to  do  so,  to  serve, 
and  please  and  glorify  him  to  their  utmost. 
And  this  is  not  a  dead  resting  without  God, 
but  it  is  a  stable  compliance  with  his  will  in 
the  highest  point  :  waiting  for  him,  and  liv- 
ing by  faith,  which  is  most  acceptable  to  him. 
In  a  word,  whether  in  sensible  comfort  or 
without  it,  still,  this  is  the  t.'  -d  thought  of  a 
believing  soul.  It  is  srond  for  me  to  draw 
ni^h  to  God,  Psalm  Ixxiii.  28: — only  good  ; 
and  it  will  not  live  in  a  willing  estranged- 
ness  from  him,  what  way  soever  he  be  pleas- 
ed to  deal  with  it, 

Now,  for  the  entertaining  and  strengthen- 
ing of  this  life,  which  is  the  great  business 
and  care  of  all  that  have  it, — 

1st.  Beware  of  omitting  and  interrupting 
those  spiritual  means,  which  do  provide  it 
and  iHJurish  it.  Little  neglects  of  that  kind 
will  draw  on  greater,  and  great  neglects  will 
niakegreat  abatements  of  vigor  and  liveliness. 
Take  heed  of  using  holy  things  coldly  and 
lazily,  without  afleclion  :  that  will  make  them 
fruitless,  and  our  life  will  not  he  advantaged 
by  them,  unless  they  be  used  in  a  lively  way. 
Be  active  in  all  good  within  thy  reach:  as 
this  IS  a  sign  of  the  spiritual  liie,  so  it  is  a 
Jielpcr  and  friend  to  it.  A  slothful,  unstirring 
life,  will  make  a  sickly,  unhealthy  life.  Mo- 
tion purifies  and  sharpens  the  spirits,  and 
makes  men  robust  and  vigorous. 


2dly.  Beware  of  admitting  a  correspondence 
with  any  sin  :  yea,  do  not  so  niuch  as  discourse 
familiarly  with  it,  or  look  kindly  toward  it ; 
for  that  will  undoubtedly  cast  a  damp  upoi: 
thy  s[)irit,  and  .tliminish  thy  graces  at  least, 
and  will  obstruct  thy  communion  with  (iod. 
'J'hou  knowest  (thou  who  hast  any  knowledge 
of  this  life)  that  thou  canst  not  go  to  him  with 
that  sweet  i'reedom  thou  wert  wont,  after 
thou  hast  been  but  tempering  or  parleying 
with  any  of  thy  old  loves.  Oh  i  do  not  make 
so  foolish  a  bargain,  as  to  ])rejudice  the  least 
of  thy  spiritual  comibrts,  for  the  greatest  and 
longest  continued  enjoyments  of  sin,  which 
are-  base  and  but  for  a  season. 

But  wouldst  thou  groAV  U[)ward  in  this  life  ? 
3dly,  Have  much  recourse  to  Jesus  Christ  thy 
head,  the  spring  from  whom  flow  are  animal 
spirits  that  quicken  thy  soul.  Wouldst  thou 
know  more  of  God  ?  He  it  is  who  rtvca/s  the 
Father,  and  reveals  him  as  /lis  Falher,  and, 
in  him,  thy  Father  ;  and  that  is  the  sweet 
notion  of  God.  Wouldst  thou  overcome  thy 
lusts  further.  Our  victory  is  in  him.  Apply 
his  conquests  :  14 'e  are  more  than  conquer  or  a, 
throiiffh  him  that  loved,  us.  Rom.  viii.  37. 
Wouldst  thou  be  more  replenished  with  graces 
and  spiritual  affections  ?  His  fulness  is,  for 
that  use,  open  to  us;  there  is  life,  and  more 
life,  in  him,  and  for  us.  This  was  his  busi- 
ness here.  He  came,  that  we  miiiht  have  life, 
and  might  have  it  more  abundantly.  John 
X.  10. 

Vek.  7.  But  the  end  of  all  things  is  at  hand :  be  ye 
therefore  sober,  and  watch  nnto  prayer. 

The  heart  of  a  real  Christian  is  really  taken 
off  from  tht  world,  and  set  heavenward  :  yet 
there  is  still  in  this  flesh  so  nmch  of  the  flesh 
hanging  to  it,  as  will  readily  poise  all  down- 
ward, unless  it  be  often  wound  up  and  put  in 
remembrance  of  those  things  ihat  will  raise 
it  still  to  further  spirituality.  This  the  apostle 
doth  in  this  epistle,  and  particularly  in  these 
words,  in  which  three  things  are  to  be  con- 
sidered. I.  A  threefold  duty  recommended, 
n.  The  mutual  relation  that  binds  tliese  duties 
to  one  another.  HI.  That  reason  here  used 
to  bind  them  upon  a  Christian. 

I.  A  threefold  duty  recommended,  sobriety, 
watchfulness,  and  prayer :  and  of  the  three, 
the  last  is  evidently  the  chief,  and  is  here  so 
meant,  and  others  being  recommended,  as 
suitable  and  subservient  to  it ;  therefore  I  shall 
speak  first  of  prayer. 

And  truly,  to  speak  and  to  hear  of  this  duty 
often,  were  our  hearts  truly  and  entirely  ac- 
quainted with  it,  would  have  still  new  sweet- 
ness and  usefulness  in  it.  Oh,  how  great 
were  the  advantage  of  that  lively  krujwiedge 
of  it,  beyond  the  exactest  skill  in  defining  it, 
and  in  discoursing  on  the  heads  of  doctrine 
concerning  it ! 

Prayer  is  not  a  smooth  expression,  or  a 
well-contrived  form  of  words  ;  not  the  product 
of  a  ready  memory,  or  of  a  rich  invention 
exerting  itself  in  the  performance.  These 
may  draw  a  neat  picture  of  it,  but  still,  the 


Ver  7.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


299 


life  is  wanting'.    The  motion,  of  the  heart  ! 
God-ward,  holy  and  divine  affection,  makes  ! 
prayer  real,  and  lively,  and  acceptable  to  the 
livin<T  God,  to  whom  it  is  presented:  the! 
pouring  out  of  thy  heart  to  him  who.  made  1 
it,  and  therefore  hears  it,  and  understands 
what  it  speaks,  and  how  it  is  moved  and  af- 
fected in  calling  on  him.    It  is  not  the  gilded 
paper  and  good  writing  of  a  petition,  that 
prevails  with  a  king,  but  the  moving  sense 
of  it.    And  to  that  king  who  discerns  the 
heart,  heart-sense  is  the  sense  of  all,  and  that 
which  only  he  regards  ;   he  listens  to  hear 
what  that  speaks,  and  takes  all  as  nothing 
where  that  is  silent.    All  other  excellence  in 
prayer  is  but  the  outside  and  fashion  of  it  ; 
this  is  the  life  of  it. 

Though  prayer,  precisely  taken,  is  only 
petition,  vet,  in  its  fuller  and  usual  sense,  it 
comprehends  the  venting  of  our  humble  sense 
of  vileness  and  sin,  in  sincere  confession,  and 
the  extolling  and  praising  of  the  holy  name 
of  our  God,  his  excellency  and  goodness,  with 
thankful  acknowledgment  of  received  mer- 
cies. Of  these  sweet  ingredient  perfumes  is 
the  incense  of  prayer  composed,  and  by  the 
Divine'fire  of  love  it  ascend  unto  God,  the 
heart  and  all  with  it  :  and  when  the  hearts 
of  the  saints  unite  in  joint  prayer,  the  pillar 
of  sweet  smoke  goes  up  the  greater  and  the 
fuller.  Thus  says  that  song  of  the  spouse: 
Gnins;  up  frnm  the  wilderness,  as  'pillars  of 
smoke  perfumed  irith  myrrh  and  frankincense, 
and  all  Ihe  poiiulers  of  the  merchant.  Cam. 
iii.  G.  The  word  there  (Ti/nTo/Zi,  from  Temer, 
a  palrn-lree),  siijnifies .•j^yv/zV/i/  pillars,  likf  the 
tallest,  siraightest  kind  of  trees.  And,  indeed, 
ihe  sincerity  and  unfcignedness  of  prayer 
make  it  go  up  as  a  straight  pillar,  no  crof)ked- 
ness  in  it,  tendinor  straight  toward  heaven, 
and  bowiiiff  to  no  side  by  the  way.  Oh  !  the 
single  and  fixed  viewin?  t)f  God,  as  it,  in  other 
wa  'S,  is  the  thing  which  makes  all  holy  and 
swfet,  so  particularly  does  it  in  this  Divine 
work  of  prayer. 

It  is  true  we  have  to  deal  with  a  God  who 
of  himself  needs  not  this  our  pains,  either  to 
inform  or  to  excite  him:  he  fullv  kn(jws  our 
thoughts  before  we  express  iheiii,  and  our 
wants  before  we  feel  them  or  think  of  lliem. 
Nor  doth  ti)is  affection  and  gracious  bent  to 
do  his  children  good,  wax  remiss,  or  admit 
of  the  least  abatement  and  forgetfulness^  of 
them. 

But,  instead  of  necessity  on  the  part  of  God, 
which  can  not  be  imagined,  we  shall  find  that 
equity,  and  that  singular  dignity  and  utility 
of  it,  on  our  pnrt,  which  can  not  be  denied. 

1.  R'/niii/.  That  thus  the  creature  signify 
his  homage  to.  itid  dependance  on,  his  Crea- 
tor, for  his  being  and  well-beinij ;  that  he 
take  all  the  go<i  J  he  enjoys,  or  expects,  from 
thai  .Sovereign  Good,  declaring:  himself  un- 
worihv,  waiting  for  all  upon  llie  terms  of  free 
goodness,  and  acknowledging  all  to  flow  from  t 
'.hat  spring. 

2.  Uignity.  Man  was  made  for  communion  I 


with  God  his  Maker;  it  is  the  excellency  of 
his  nature  to  be  capable  of  this  end,  the  hap- 
piness of  it  to  be  raised  to  enjov  it.  Now,  in 
nothing  more  in  this  life,  is  this  coiiiinunioii 
actually  and  highly  enjoyed,  than  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  prayer ;  in  that  iif^  may  freely  im- 
part his  affairs,  and  estate,  and  wants,  to 
God,  as  the  most  faithful  and  powerful  friend, 
the  richest  and  most  loving  father ;  may  use 
the  liberty  of  a  child,  telling  his  Father  what 
he  stands  in  need  of  and  desires,  and  commu- 
ning with  him  with  humble  confidence,  being 
admitted  so  frequently  into  the  presence  of 
so  great  a  King. 

3.  The  uti/iti/ of  h.  [1.1  Prayer  eases  the 
soul  in  times  of  distress,  when  it  is  oppressed 
with  griefs  and  fears,  by  giving  them  vent, 
and  that  in  so  advantageous  a  way,  em])tying 
them  into  the  bosom  of  God.  The  very  vent, 
were  it  but  into  the  air,  gives  ease  ;  or  speak 
your  grief  to  a  statue  rather  than  smother  it  ; 
much  more  ease  does  it  give  to  pour  it  forth 
into  the  lap  of  a  confidential  and  symjiathi 
zing  i'riend,  even  though  unable  to  help  us  ; 
yet  still  more,  of  one  who  can  help  ;  and,  of 
all  friends,  our  God  is,  beyond  all  com|)ari- 
son,  the  surest,  and  most  affectionate,  and 
most  powerful.  So  Isa.  Ixiii.  9,  both  com- 
passion and  effectual  salvation  are  expressed  : 
In  all  their  affliction  he  iras  afflicted,  and  the 
ansel  of  his  pr<  sence  saved  them  ;  in  his  love 
and  in  his  pity  he  redeemed  them;  and  he 
bare  them,  and  carried  them  all  the  datjs  of 
old.  And  so,  resting  on  his  love,  power,  and 
gracious  promises,  the  soul  quiets  itself  in 
God  upon  this  assurance,  that  it  is  not  in  vain 
to  seek  him,  and  that  he  despiseth  not  the 
sighins  nf  the  poor.    Psalm  xii.  5. 

[2.]  The  soul  is  m' re  spiritually  affected 
with  its  own  condition,  by  laying  it  open  be- 
fore the  Lord  ;  becomes  more  deejjly  sensible 
of  sin,  and  ashamed  in  his  sight,  in  confessing 
it  before  him;  more  dilated  and  enlarged  to 
receive  the  mercies  sued  for,  as  the  opening; 
wide  of  the  mouth  of  the  soul,  that  it  rna  i/  he 
filed  ;  more  disposed  to  observe  the  Lord  in 
answering,  and  to  bless  him,  and  trust  on 
him,  upon  the  renewed  experiences  of  his  re- 
gard to  its  distresses  and  desires. 

|3.]  All  the  graces  of  the  Sjiirit  are,  in 
prayer,  stirred  and  exercised,  and,  by  exer- 
cise, strengthened  and  increased  :  faith,  in 
aj)plying  the  Divine  promises,  which  are  the 
very  ground  that  the  soul  goes  u])on  to  (Jod, 
Hope  looking  out  to  their  performance,  and 
Love  particularly  expressing  itself  in  that 
sweet  converse,  and  delighting  in  it,  as  love 
doth  in  the  company  of  the  person  beloved, 
thinking  all  hours  too  short  in  s[)eaking  with 
him.  Oh,  how  the  soul  is  refreshed  with 
freedom  of  speech  with  its  beloved  Lord  ! 
And  as  it  delights  in  that,  so  it  is  continually 
advanced  and  grows  by  each  meetinif  and 
conference,  beholding  the  excellency  of  God, 
and  relishing  the  jiure  and  siibliiiie  ])leasures 
that  are  to  be  found  in  near  communion  with 
him,    Looking  upon  the  Father  in  the  lace 


300 


A  COMMENTAKY  UPON  THE 


[Cha>.  IV 


of  Christ,  and  using  him  as  a  mediator  in 
prayer,  as  still  it  must,  ii  is  drawn  to  i'urthcr 
auniirution  ot"  liiai  bolloniless  love,  which 
found  out  that  way  of  agreement,  that  -new 
and  lirimz  way  of  our  access,  when  all  was 
s-hut  up,  and  we'*'Tiiust  otherwise  have  been 
shut  out  for  ever.  And  then,  the  affectionate 
expressions  of  that  rellex  love,  seeking  to  find 
that  vent  in  prayer,  do  kindle  higher,  and  be- 
ing as  it  were  fanned  and  blown  up,  rise  to  a 
greater,  and  hiirher,  and  purer  flame,  and  so 
lend  upward  the  more  strongly.  David,  as 
he  doth  profess  his  love  to  God  in  prayer,  in 
his  Psalms,  so  no  doubt  it  grew  in  the  ex- 
pressing: J  wi/llove  thee, 0  Lord  ?ny  stren<rth, 
Psalm  xviii.  1.  And  in  Psalm  cxvi.  1,  he 
doth  raise  an  incentive  of  love  out  of  this 
very  consideration  of  the  correspondence  of 
prayer — /  /ove  the  Lord  hecnnse  hit  hath 
heard  ;  and  he  resolves  thereafter  upon  per- 
sislance  in  that  course — therefore  will  I  call 
upon  him  as  long  as  I  lire.  And  as  the  gra- 
ces of  the  Spirit  are  advanced  in  prayer  by 
their  actings,  so  for  this  further  reason,  be- 
cause prayer  sets  the  soul  particularly  near 
untoGod  in  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  then  in  his  pres- 
ence, and  being  much  with  God  in  this  way, 
it  is  powerfully  assimilated  to  liim  by  con- 
verse with  him  ;  as  we  readily  contract  their 
habits  with  whom  we  have  much  inter- 
course, especially  if  they  be  such  as  we  sin- 
gularly love  and  respect.  Thus  the  soul  is 
moulded  further  to  the  likeness  of  God,  is 
stamped  wi;h  clearer  characters  of  him,  by 
being  much  with  him,  becomes  more  like 
God,  more  holy  and  spiritual,  and,  like  Mo- 
ses, brings  back  a  bright  shining  from  the 
mount. 

[4.]  And  not  only  thus,  by  a  natural  influ- 
ence, doth  prayer  work  this  advantage,  but 
even  by  a  federal  efficacy,  suing  for,  and  upon 
suit  obtaininrr,  supplies  of  grace  as  the  chief 
good,  and  besides,  all  other  needful  mercies. 
It  is  a  real  means  of  receiving.  Whatsiwver 
you  shall  ask,  that  will  I  do,  says  our  Savior. 
John  xiv.  13.  God  having  established  this 
intercouse,  has  engaged  his  truth  and  good- 
ness in  it,  that  if  they  call  on  him,  they  shall 
be  heard  and  answered.  If  they  prepare  the 
heart  lo  call,  he  will  incline  his  ear  to  hear. 
Our  Savior  hath  assured  us,  that  we  may 
build  upon  his  goodness,  upon  the  affection 
of  a  father  in  him  ;  He  will  tiive  good  things 
to  thrm  that  ask,  says  one  Evan<relist  (Matt, 
vii.  11),  give  them  the  Holy  'Spirit  to  them 
that  ask  him,  says  another  (Luke  xi.  13),  as 
being  the  good  indeed,  the  highest  of  gifts 
and  the  sum  of  all  good  things,  and  thai  for 
which  his  children  are  mo?ft  earnest  suppli- 
cants. Prayer  for  ffrace  doth,  as  it  were,  set 
the  mouth  of  the  soul  to  the  spring,  dravvs 
from  Jesus  Christ,  and  is  replenished  out  of 
his  fulness,  thirsting  after  it,  and  drawing 
from  it  that  way. 

And  for  tliis  reason  it  is  that  our  Savior, 
and  from  him,  and  according  to  his  example, 
the  apostle,  recommend  prayer  so  m  ich. 


Watch  and  pmy,  says  our  Savior,  Matt.  xivi. 
41  ;  and  St.  Paul,  Pray  continually,  1  Thess. 
V.  17  And  our  apostle  here  jjarticularly  spe- 
cifies this,  as  the  grand  means  of  attaining 
that  CBuformity  with  Christ  which  he  presf 
ses  :  this  is  the  highway  to  it,  lie  soher  and 
vaick  unto  prayer.  He  that  is  much  irj 
prayer,  shall  grow  rich  in  grace.  He  shall 
thrive  and  increase  most,  who  is  busiest  in 
this,  which  is  our  very  tralfic  with  heaven, 
and  fetches  the  most  precious  commodities 
tlience.  He  who  sends  oftenest  out  these 
•ships  of  desire,  who  makes  the  most  voyages 
to  that  land  of  spices  and  pearls,  shall  be 
sure  to  improve  his  stock  most,  and  have 
most  of  heaven  upon  earth. 

But  the  true  art  of  this  trading  is  very  rare. 
Every  trade  hath  something  wherein  the 
skill  of  it  lies  ;  but  this  is  deep  and  supernat- 
ural, is  not  reached  by  human  industry.  In- 
dustry is  to  be  used  in  it,  but  we  must  know 
the  faculty  of  it  comes  from  above,  that  spirit 
of  prayer  without  which,  learning,  and  wit, 
and  religious  breeding, can  do  nothing.  There- 
fore, this  is  to  be  our  prayer  often,  our  great 
suit,  for  the  spirit  of  prayer,  that  we  may 
speak  the  language  of  the  sons  of  God  by 
the  Spirit  of  God,  which  alone  teaches  the 
heart  lo  pronounce  arigit  those  things  tnat 
the  tongue  of  many  hyjjocrites  can  articulate 
well  to  man's  ear.  Only  the  children,  in  that 
right  strain  that  takes  him,  call  God  their 
Father,  &Ti(\  cry  unto  him  as  their  Father; 
and  therefore,  many  a  poor  unlettered  Chris- 
tian far  outstrips  your  school-rabbies  in  this 
faculty,  because  it  is  not  cflVctually  taught 
in  those  lower  academies.  They  must  be  in 
God's  own  school,  children  of  his  house,  who 
sjieak  this  lan<iuage.  Men  may  give  spirit- 
ual rules  and  directions  in  this,  and  such  as 
may  be  useful,  drawn  from  the  word  that  fur- 
nishes us  with  all  needful  precepts;  but  you 
have  still  to  bring  these  into  the  seat  of  'his 
faculty  of  prayer,  the  heart,  and  stamp  t>  em 
ujion  it,  and  so  to  teach  it  to  pray,  without 
which  there  is  no  prayer.  This  is  the  pre- 
rf)gative  royal  of  him  who  framed  the  heart 
of  man  within  him. 

But  for  advancing  in  this,  and  growing 
more  skilful  in  it,  prayer  is,  with  continual 
dependance  on  the  Spirit,  to  be  much  used. 
Prayinsj  much,  thou  shalt  be  blest  with  much 
factjlty  for  it.  So  then,  askest  thou,  What 
shall  I  do  that  I  may  learn  to  pray  ?  There 
be  things  here  to  be  considered,  which  are 
expressed  as  serving  this  end  ;  but  for  the 
present  take  this,  and  chiefly  this.  By  pray- 
ing, thou  shalt  learn  to  pray. — Thou  shalt 
both  obtain  more  of  the  Spirit,  and  And  more 
of  the  cheerful  working  of  it  in  prayer,  when 
thou  puttest  it  often  to  that  work  for  which 
it  is  received,  and  wherein  it  lakes  delight. 
And,  as  both  advantaging  all  other  graces 
and  j)romotin2:  the  i^race  of  prayer  itself,  this 
frequency  and  abounding  in  prayer  is  here 
very  clearly  intended,  in  that  the  apostle 
makes  it  as  he  main  of  the  work  we  have  to 


Ver.  7.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


301 


do,  and  would  have  us  keep  our  hearts  in  a 
constant  aptness  for  it:  Be  sober  and  watch 
— lo  what  end  ? — unlo  prayer. 

Be  soher.^  They  that  have  no  better,  must 
make  the  best  they  can  oi" carnal  delights.  It 
IS  no  wonder  they  take  as  large  a  share  of 
them  as  they  can  bear,  and  sometimes  more. 
But  the  Christian  is  called  to  a  more  excel- 
lent state  and  higher  pleasures  ;  so  that  he 
may  behold  men  glutting  themselves  with 
these  base  things,  and  be  as  little  moved  to 
share  wiih  them,  as  men  are  taken  with  the 
pleasure  a  swine  hath  in  wallowing  in  the 
mire. 

It  becomes  the  heirs  of  heaven  to  be  far 
above  the  love  of  the  earth,  and  in  the  neces- 
sary use  of  any  earthly  things,  still  to  keep 
within  the  due  measure  of  their  use,  and  to 
keep  their  hearts  wholly  diseniraged  from  an 
excessive  affection  to  ihem.  This  is  the  so- 
briety to  which  we  are  here  exhorted. 

It  is  true,  that  in  the  most  common  sense 
of  the  word,  it  is  very  commendable,  and  it  is 
fit  to  bo  so  considered  by  a  Christian,  that  he 
flee  gross  intemperance,  as  a  thing  most  con- 
trary to  his  condition  and  holy  calling,  and 
wholly  inconsistent  with  the  spiritual  temper 
of  a  renewed  mind,  with  those  exercises  to 
which  ii  is  called,  and  with  its  progress  in 
its  way  homeward.  It  is  a  niost  unseemly 
sight,  to  behold  one  simply  by  outward  pro- 
lession  a  Christian,  overtaken  with  surfeiting 
and  drunkenness,  much  more,  given  to  the 
vile  custom  of  it.  All  sensual  delights,  even 
the  filthy  lust  of  uncleanness,  go  under  the 
common  name  of"  insobriety,  intemperance, 
iKo\nai.i:  and  tliey  all  degrade  and  destroy  the 
noble  soul,  being  unworthy  of  a  man,  much 
more  of  a  Christian  ;  and  the  contempt  of 
them  preserves  ilie  soul  and  elevates  it. 

But  the  sobriety  here  recommended,  though 
it  takes  in  that  too,  yet  reaches  farther  than 
temperance  in  meat  and  drink.  It  is  the 
spiritual  temperance  of  a  Christian  mind  in 
all  earthly  things,  as  our  Savior  joins  these 
together,  Luke  xx'  31,  surfeiting,  and  drunk- 
enness, and  cares  u/  this  life  :  and  under  the 
cares  are  comprehended  all  the  excessive  de- 
sires and  delights  of  this  life,  which  can  not 
be  followed  and  attended  without  distem- 
pered carefulness. 

Many  who  are  sober  men  and  of  temperate 
diet,  yet  are  spiritually  intemperate,  drunk 
with  pride,  or  cnvetousncss,  or  passions  ; 
drunk  with  self-love  and  love  of  their  pleas- 
ures and  ease,  with  love  of  the  world  and 
the  things  of  it,  which  can  not  consist  with 
the  love  of  God,  as  St.  John  tells  us,  1  John  ii. 
15;  drunk  with  the  inordinate,  unlawful  love 
even  of  their  lawful  rallingand  the  lawful  gain 
they  pursue  by  it.  Their  hearts  are  still  going 
after  it,  and  so,  reeling  to  and  fro,  never  fixed 
on  God  and  heavenly  things,  but  either  hur- 
ried up  and  down  with  incessant  business,  or, 
if  sometimes  at  case,  it  is  as  the  ease  of  a 
drunken  man,  not  composed  to  better  and 
wiser  thoughts,  but  falling  into  a  dead  sleep, 


contrary  to  the  watching  here  joined  with 
sobriety. 

Watch.]  There  is  a  Christian  rule  to  be 
observed  in  the  very  moderating  of  bodily 
I  sleep,  and  that  particularly  for  the  interest  of 
prayer  ;  but  watching,  as  well  as  sobriety, 
here,  implies  chiefly  the  spiritual  circum- 
;  spectness  and  vigilancy  of  the  mind,  in  a 
'  wary,  waking  posture,  that  it  be  not  surprised 
by  the  assaults  or  sleights  of  Satan,  by  the 
world,  nor  by  its  nearest  and  most  deceiving 
j  enemy,  the  corruption  that  dwells  within, 
I  which  being  so  near,  dotli  most  readily  watch 
unperceived  advantages,  and  easily  circum- 
vent us.  Heb.  xii.  1.  The  soul  of  a  Christian 
I  being  surrounded  with  enemies,  both  of  so 
great  power  and  wrath,  and  so  watchful  to 
undo  it,  should  it  not  be  watchful  for  its  own 
safety,  and  live  in  a  military  vigilancy  con- 
tinually, keeping  constant  watch  and  senti- 
nel, and  suffering  nothing  to  pass  that  may 
carry  the  least  suspicion  of  danger?  Should 
he  not  be  distrustful  and  jealous  of  all  the 
motions  of  his  own  heart,  and  the  smilings 
of  the  world  ?  And  in  relation  to  these,  it 
will  be  a  wise  course  to  take  that  word  as  a 
good  caveat,  yrvpt  «ai  fd,>\iiint  •iTiarrh-.  Bc  watch- 
ful, and  remember  to  mistrust.  Under  the  gar- 
ment of  some  harmless  pleasure,  or  some  law- 
ful liberties,  may  be  conveyed  into  thy  soul 
some  thief  or  traitor,  that  will  eiilier  betray 
thee  to  the  enemy,  or  at  least  jiilfer  and  steal  of 
the  most  precious  things  tliou  hast.  Do  we 
not  by  experience  find,  how  easily  our  foolish 
hearts  are  seduced  and  deceived,  and  therefore  . 
apt  to  deceive  themselves  ?  And  by  things 
that  seem  to  have  no  evil  in  them,  they  are  yet 
drawn  from  the  heiiiht  of  affection  to  their 
Su|)reme  Good,  and  from  coiiiiiiunion  with 
God,  and  study  to  please  him  ;  which  should 
not  be  intermitted,  for  then  it  will  abate, 
whereas  it  ought  still  to  he  growing. 

Now,  II.  The  mutual  relation  of  these  du- 
ties is  clear  :  they»are  each  of  them  assistant 
and  helpful  to  the  other,  and  are  in  their  na- 
ture inseparably  linked  together,  as  they  are 
here  in  the  words  of  the  apostle  ;  sobriety, 
the  friend  of  watchfulness,  and  prayer,  of 
both.  Intemperance  doth  of  hecc.--sity  draw 
on  sleep  ;  excessive  eating  and  drinking,  by 
sending  up  too  many,  and  so,  gross  vapors, 
surcharge  the  brain  ;  and  when  the  body  is 
thus  deadened,  how  unfit  is  it  for  any  active 
employment.  Thus  the  mind,  by  a  surcharge 
of  delights,  or  desires,  or  cart's  of  earth,  is 
made  so  heavy  and  dull,  that  it  can  not 
av/ake  ;  hath  not  the  sjiiritual  activity  and 
clearness  that  spiritual  exercises,  particularly 
prayer,  do  require.  Yea,  as  bodily  insobriety, 
full  feeding  and  drinking,  not  only  for  the 
time  indisposes  to  action,  but,  by  the  custom 
of  it,  brings  the  body  to  so  gross  and  heavy  a 
temper,  that  the  very  natural  spirits  can  not 
stir  to  and  fro  in  it  with  freedom,  but  are 
clogged,  and  stick  as  the  wheels  of  a  coach 
in  a  deep  miry  way  ;  thus  is  it  with  the  soul 
glutted  with  earthly  things :  the  afleclions 


302 


A  COMMEXTARV  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  IV 


bcmiicd  with  th.''m,makc  it  pliiirijisli  and  in- 
at'iivi'  ill  spiritual  things,  and  reiidiT  iho  mo- 
tions of  ilu' sjjirii  lu';ivy  :  and,  obstructed  thus, 
the  soul  grows  carnally  secure  and  sleepy, 
and  prayer  conies  heavily  oil".  But  wlien  the 
al'ecrioiis  are  soberly  exercised,  and  even  in 
lawl'ul  ihiniTS  have  not  lull  liberty,  with  the 
reins  laid  on  their  necks,  to  follow  the  world 
and  carnal  projects  and  delights:  when  the 
unavoidal)le  atlairs  of  this  life  are  done  with 
a  spiritual  mind,  a  heart  kept  free  and  disen- 
gaged :  then  is  the  soul  more  nimble  for  spir- 
itual things,  for  Divine  meditation  and  prayer  : 
it  can  watch  and  continue  in  these  things,  and 
spend  itself  in  that  excellent  way  with  more 
alacrity. 

Again,  as  this  sobriety,  and  the  watchful 
temper  attending  it,  enable  for  prayer,  so 
prayer  preserves  these.  Prayer  winds  up  the 
soul  from  the  earth,  raises  it  above  those 
things  which  intem[)erance  feeds  on,  acquaints 
it  with  the  transcending  sweetness  of  Divine 
coniiorts,  the  love  and  loveliness  of  Jesus 
Christ  :  and  these  most  poweriully  wean  the 
soul  from  the  low  creeping  pleasures  that  the 
world  gapes  after  and  swallows  with  such 
greediness.  He  that  is  admitted  to  nearest 
intimacy  with  the  king,  and  is  called  daily 
to  his  presence,  not  only  in  the  view  and 
company  of  others,  but  likewise  in  secret, 
will  he  be  so  mad  as  to  sit  down  and  drink 
with  the  kitchen-boys,  or  the  common  guards, 
so  far  below  what  he  may  enjoy  ?  Surely 
not. 

Prayer,  being  our  near  communion  with  the 
great  God,  certainly  sublimates  the  soul,  and 
makes  it  lo(.k  down  upon  the  base  ways  of 
the  world  with  disdain,  and  despise  the  truly 
besotting  pleasures  of  it.  Yea,  the  Lord  doth 
sometimes  fill  those  souls  that  converse  much 
with  him,  with  such  beatific  delights,  such 
inebriating  sweetness,  as  I  may  call  it,  that 
it  is,  in  a  happy  manner,  drunic  with  these  ; 
and  the  more  there  is  of  this,  the  more  is  the 
soul  above  base  intemperance  in  the  use  of 
the  delights  of  the  world.  Whereas  common 
drunkenness  makes  a  man  less  than  a  man, 
thfis  makes  him  more  than  a  man  :  that  sinks 
him  below  himself,  makes  him  a  beast  ;  this 
raises  him  above  himself,  and  makes  him  an 
angel. 

Would  you,  as  surely  you  ought,  have  much 
faculty  for  prayer,  and  be  frequent  in  it,  and 
experience  much  of  the  pure  sweetness  of  it  ? 
Then  deny  yourselves  more  the  muddy  pleas- 
ures and  sweetness  of  the  world.  If  you  would 
pray  much,  and  with  much  advantage,  then 
be  sober,  and  itiatch  xinto  prayer.  Suffer  not 
your  hearts  to  long  so  after  ease,  and  wealth, 
and  esteem  in  the  world  :  these  will  make 
your  hearts,  if  they  mix  with  them,  become 
like  them,  and  take  their  quality  ;  will  make 
them  gross  and  earthly,  and  unable  to  mount 
up  :  will  clog  the  wings  of  prayer,  and  you 
shall  find  the  loss,  when  your  soul  is  heavy 
and  drowsy,  and  falls  off  from  delighting  in 
(Jod  and  communion  with  him.    Will  such 


'  things  as  those  you  follow  be-  able  to  counter 
vail  your  damage  ?  Can  the-v  speak  you  peace, 
and  U])hold  you  in  a  day  of  darkness  and  dis- 
tress ?  Or  may  it  not  be  such  now,  as  will 
make  them  all  a  burden  and  vexation  to  you? 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  more  you  abate 
and  let  go  of  these,  and  come  empty  and  hun- 
gry to  God  in  prayer,  the  more  rocjm  shall 
you  have  for  his  consolations  ;  and  therefore, 
the  more  plentifully  will  he  pour  in  of  them, 
and  enrich  your  soul  with  them  the  more,  the 
less  you  take  in  of  the  other. 

Again,  would  you  have  yourselves  raised  to, 
and  continued  and  advanced  in,  a  spiritual 
heavenly  temper,  free  from  the  surfeits  of 
!  earth,  and  awake  and  active  for  heaven  ?  Be 
incessant  in  prayer. 

But  thou  wilt  say,  "  I  find  nothing  but 
heavy  indisposedness  in  it,  nothing  but  ro- 
ving and  vanity  of  heart,  and  so,  though  I 
have  used  it  some  time,  it  is  still  unprofitable 
and  uncomfortable  to  me."  Although  it  be 
i  so,  yet  hold  on,  give  it  not  over.  Or  need  I 
'  say  this  to  thee?  Though  it  were  referred 
to  thyself,  wouldst  thou  forsake  it  and  leave 
off?  Then,  what  wouldst  thou  do  next?  For 
if  there  be  no  comfort  in  it,  far  less  is  there 
1  any  for  thee  in  any  other  way.  If  temptation 
should  so  far  prevail  with  thee  as  to  lead  thee 
to  try  intermission,  either  thou  wouldst  be 
forced  to  return  to  it  presently,  or  certainly 
wouldst  fall  into  a  more  grievous  conilition, 
and,  after  horrors  and  lashings,  must  at  length 
come  back  to  it  again,  or  perish  for  ever. 
Therefore,  however  it  go,  continue  j.Taying. 
Strive  to  believe  that  love  thou  canst  not  see  ; 
for  where  sight  is  abridged,  there  it  is  proper 
for  faith  to  work.  If  thou  canst  do  no  more, 
lie  before  thy  Lord,  and  look  to  him,  and  say, 
"Lord,  here  I  am,  thou  mayest  quicken  and 
revive  me  if  thou  wilt,  and  I  trust  thou  wilt ; 
but  if  I  must  do  it,  I  will  die  at  thy  feet.  My 
life  is  in  thy  hand,  and  thou  art  goodness  and 
mercy  :  while  1  have  breath  I  will  cry,  or,  if  I 
can  not  cry,  yet  I  will  wait  on,  and  look  to  thee." 

One  thing  forget  not,  that  the  ready  way  to 
rise  out  of  this  sad,  yet  safe  state,  is,  to  be 
much  in  viewing  the  Mediator,  and  interpo- 
sing him  between  the  Father's  view  and  thy 
so'ul.    Some  who  do  orthodoxly  believe  this 
to  be  right,  yet  (as  often  befalls  us  in  ojther 
things  of  this  kind),  do  not  so  consider  and 
use  it  in  their  necessity,  as  becomes  them, 
and  therefore  fall  short  of  comfort.    He  hath 
declared  it.    No  man  comelh  la  the  Father 
but  by  me.    How  vile  soever  thou  art,  put 
thyself  under  his  robe,  and  into  his  hand,  and 
j  he  will  lead  thee  unto  the  Father,  and  pre- 
]  sent  thee  acceptable  and  blameless  ;  and  the 
I  Father  shall  receive  thee,  and  declare  him- 
!  self  well  pleased  with  thee  in  his  well-beloved 
Son,  who  hath  covered  thee  with  his  righte- 
1  ousiiess,  and  brought  thee  so  clothed,  and  set 
i  thee  before  him. 

I     III.  The  third  thing  we  have  to  consider  is, 
the  reason  which  binds  on  us  these  duties: 
.  The  end  of  all  things  is  at  hand. 


Ver.  7.1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


303 


We  need  often  to  be  remipi.ed  of  this,  for 
even  believers  too  readily  forget  it :  and  it  is 
ver}'  suitable  to  the  apostle's  foregoing  dis- 
course of  judgment,  and  to  his  present  exhor- 
tation to  sobriety  and  watchfulness  unto 
prayer.  Even  the  general  end  of  all  is  at 
hand;  though,  since  the  aposile  wrote  this, 
many  ages  are  past.  For,  [1.]  The  apostles 
usually  speak  of  the  whole  time  after  the 
coining  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  flesh,  as  the  last 
lime,  for  that  two  double  chiliads  of  years 
passed  before  it,  the  one  before,  the  other  un- 
der the  law  ;  and  in  this  third,  it  is  conceived, 
shall  be  the  end  of  all  things.  And  the  apos- 
tles seem,  by  divers  expressions,  to  have  ap- 
prehended it  in  their  days  to  be  not  far  off. 
So,  St.  Paul,  1  Thess.  iv.  17  :  We  which  are 
alive,  and  remain,  shall  he  caui^ht  up  togeth- 
er with  them  in  the  clouds — speaking  as  if  it 
were  not  impossible  that  it  might  come  in 
their  time  ;  which  put  him  upon  some  expli- 
cation of  that  correction  of  their  mistakes,  in 
his  next  epistle  to  them,  wherein,  notwith- 
standing, he  seems  not  to  assert  any  great 
tract  of  time  to  intervene,  but  only  that  in 
that  time  great  things  were  first  to  come. 
[2.]  However,  this  might  always  have  been 
said:  in  respect  of  succeeding  eternity,  the 
whole  duration  of  the  world  is  not  considera- 
ble ;  and  to  the  eternal  Lord  who  made  it, 
and  hath  appointed  its  period,  a  thousand 
years  are  bat  as  one  daij.  We  think  a  thou- 
sand years  a  great  matter,  in  respect  of  our 
short  life,  and  more  so  through  our  shortsight- 
edness, who  look  not  through  this  to  eternal 
life;  but  what  is  the  utmost  length  of  lime, 
were  it  millions  of  years,  to  a  thought  of  eter- 
nity ?  We  find  much  room  in  this  earth,  but 
to  the  vast  heavens,  it  is  but  as  a  point. 
Thus,  that  which  is  but  small  to  us,  a  field  or 
little  enclosure,  a  fly,  had  it  skill,  would  di- 
vide into  provinces  in  proportion  to  itself 
[3.]  To  each  man,  the  end  of  all  things  is 
even  after  our  measure,  at  hand;  for  when 
he  dies,  the  worid  ends  for  him.  Now  this 
consideration  fits  the  subject,  and  presses  it 
strongly.  Seeing  all  things  shall  be  quickly 
at  an  end,  even  the  frame  of  heaven  and 
earth,  why  should  we,  knowing  this,  and  hav- 
ing higher  hopes,  lay  out  so  much  of  our  de- 
sires and  endeavors  upon  those  things  that  are 
posting  to  ruin  ?  It  is  no  hard  notion,  to  be 
sober  and  walchful  to  prayer,  to  be  trading 
that  way,  and  seeking  higher  things,  and  to 
be  very  moderate  in  these,  which  are  of  so 
short  a  date.  As  in  themselves  and  their  ut- 
most term,  ihcyare  jf  short  duration,  so  more 
evidently  to  each  of  us  in  particular,  who  are 
•0  soon  cut  off,  and  Jlre  away.  Why  should 
Jir  hearts  cleave  to  those  things  from  which 
we  shall  so  fjuickly  part,  and  from  which,  if 
we  will  not  freely  jiart  and  let  them  go,  we 
shall  be  pulled  away,  and  pulled  with  the 
more  pain,  the  closer  we  cleave,  and  the 
faster  we  are  glued  to  them  ? 

This  the  A()osile  St.  Paul  casts  in  seasona- 
f>lv  (though  many  think  it  not  seasonable  at 


such  times),  when  he  is  discoursing  of  a  great 
point  of  our  life,  marriage,  to  work  Christian 
minds  to  a  holv  freedom  both  ways,  whether 
they  use  it  or  not  ;  not  to  view  it,  nor  any- 
thing here,  with  the  world's  spectacles,  which 
make  it  look  so  big  and  so  fixed,  but  to  see  u 
in  the  stream  of  time  as  passing  by,  and  as  no 
such  great  matter.  1  Cor.  vii.  31 :  The  fash- 
ion of  this  world  passeth  away  mniyn.  as  a  pa- 
geant or  show  in  a  street,  going  through  and 
quickly  out  of  sight.  What  becatneof  all  the 
marriage  solemnities  of  kings  and  princes  of 
former  ages,  which  they  were  so  taken  up 
with  m  their  time  ?  When  we  read  of  them 
described  in  history,  they  are  as  a  night- 
dream,  or  a  day-fancy,  which  passes  through 
the  mind  and  vanishes. 

Oh  !  foolish  man,  that  hunieth  such  poor 
things,  and  will  not  be  called  off  till  death 
benight  him,  and  he  finds  his  great  work  not 
done,  yea,  not  begun,  nor  even  seriously 
thought  of.  Your  buildings,  your  trading, 
your  lands,  your  matches,  and  friendships  and 
projects,  when  they  take  with  you,  and  your 
hearts  are  after  them,  say.  But  for  how  long 
are  all  these?  Their  end  is  at  hand:  there- 
fore he  sober,  and  watch  unio  prayer.  Learn 
to  divide  better:  more  hours  for  prayer,  and 
fewer  for  them  ;  your  whole  heart  for  it,  and 
none  of  it  for  them.  Seeing  they  will  fail  you 
so  quickly,  prevent  them  :  become  free:  lean 
not  on  them  till  they  break,  and  you  fall  into 
the  pit. 

It  is  reported  of  one,  that,  hearing  the  fifth 
chapter  of  Genesis  read,  so  long  lives,  and 
yet,  the  burden  still,  they  died — Seth  lived 
nine  hundred  and  twelve  years,  and  he  died  , 
Enos  lived  nine  hundred  and  five  years, 
and  he  died  ;  Methuselah  nine  hundred  and 
sixty-nine  years,  and  he  died  : — he  took  so 
deeply  the  thought  of  death  and  eternity,  that 
it  changed  his  whole  frame,  and  turned  him 
from  a  voluptuous,  to  a  most  strict  and  pious 
course  of  life.  How  small  a  word  will  do 
much,  when  God  sets  it  into  the  heart  !  But 
surely,  this  one  thing  would  make  the  soul 
more  calm  and  sober  in  the  pursuit  of  present 
things,  if  their  term  were  truly  computed  and 
considered.  How  soon  shall  youth,  and  heallh, 
and  carnal  delights,  be  at  an  end  I  Hnw  soon 
shall  slate-craft,  and  king-craft,  and  all  the 
great  projects  of  the  highest  wits  and  spirits, 
be  laid  in  the  dust  !  This  casts  a  damp  upon 
all  those  fine  things.  But  to  a  soul  acquainted 
with  God,  and  in  affection  removed  hence  al- 
ready, no  thought  so  sweet  as  this,  ll  helps 
much  to  carry  it  cheerfully  through  wrestlings 
and  difficulties,  through  better  and  worse; 
they  see  land  near,  and  shall  quickly  he  at 
home  :  that  is  the  way.  The  end  of  all  Ihmgs 
is  at  hand  ;  an  end  of  a  few  poor  delights  and 
the  many  vexations  of  this  wretched  life  :  an 
end  of  temptations  and  sins,  the  worst  o(  all 
evils  ;  yea,  an  end  of  the  imperfe(-t  fashion  of 
our  best  things  here,  an  end  of  prayer  itself, 
to  which  succeeds  that  new  song  of  endless 
praise. 


304 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[CiiAr.  TV 


Ver.  S.  And.  above  all  tliliijs,  have  fervent  charity  ' 
ammig  yonrsi'Ivcs  :  lor  charily  shall  cover  the  mill- 
tilufie  of  sins. 

Thk  graces  of  the  Spirit  are  an  entire  frame, 
making  up  the  newcreutiun,  and  none  of  them 
can  l)e  wantincT  ;  therefore  tiie  doctrine  and 
exlioriaiion  of  tlie  apostles  speak  of  them  i 
usually,  not  only  as  inseparable,  hut  as  one. 
But  there  is,  amons;  them  all,  none  more  com- ' 
prehensive  than  tiiis  of  love,  insomuch  that 
St.  Paul  calls  it  the  fuljillins;  nf  the  hm\'Rom.  \ 
xiii.  10.    Love  to  God  is  the  sum  of  all  rcla-  [ 
live  to  him,  and  so  likewise  is  it  toward  our 
brethren.    Love  to  God  is  that  which  makes  ' 
us  live  to  him,  and  be  wholly  his  :  that  which  ! 
most  powerfully  weans  us  from  this  world, 
and  causeth  us  delight  in  communion  with  i 
him  in  holy  meditation  and  prayer.   Now  the  \ 
apostle  addiui^  here  the  duty  of  Christians  to 
one  another,  <xives  this  as  the  prime,  yea,  the  ' 
sum  of  all  :  Above  all,  have  f  ervenl  love. 

Concerning  this,  consider,  I.  The  nature  of 
it.  II.  The  eminent  degree  of  it.  And,  TIL 
The  excellent  fruit  of  it. 

I.  The  nature  of  this  love.  1.  It  is  a  union, 
therefore  called  a  bond  or  chain,  that  links  ' 
things  together.  2.  It  is  not  a  mere  external 
union,  that  holds  in  customs,  or  words,  or  out- 
ward carriage,  but  a  union  of  hearts.  3.  It  is 
here  not  a  natural,  but  a  spiritual,  supernat- 
ural union:  it  is  the  mutual  love  of  Chris- 
tians an  brethren.  There  is  a  common  benevo- 
lence and  good  will  due  to  all  :  but  a  more 
particular  uniting  affection  amongst  Chris-  | 
tians,  which  makes  them  interchangeably 
one. 

The  devil  being  an  apostate  spirit,  revolted 
and  separated  from  God,  doth  naturally  pro- 
ject and  work  division.  This  was  his  first 
exploit,  and  it  is  still  his  grand  design  and 
business  in  the  world.  He  first  divided  man 
from  God  :  put  them  at  an  enmity  by  the  first 
sin  of  our  first  parents  ;  and  the  next  we  read 
of  in  their  first  child,  was  enmity  against  his 
brother.  So,  Satan  is  called  by  our  Savior, 
justly,  fi  liar  and  a  murderer  from  the  begin- 
ning, John  viii.  44:  he  murdered  man  by  ly- 
ing, and  made  him  a  murderer. 

And  as  the  devil's  work  is  division,  Christ's 
work  is  union.  He  came  to  dissolve  the  works 
of  the  devil,  .miXSttj.  by  a  contrary  work,  1  John 
iii.  8.  He  came  to  make  all  friends  ;  to  re- 
collect and  reunite  all  men  to  God,  and  man 
to  man.  And  both  those  unions  hold  in  him 
by  virtue  of  that  marvellous  union  of  natures 
in  his  person,  and  that  mysterious  union  of 
the  persons  of  believers  with  him  as  their 
head.  So  the  word,  ''rMK.^dXnK.jrrno-w.K,  signifies, 
Eph.  i.  10,  To  unite  all  in  one  head. 

This  was  his  great  project  in  all ;  this  he 
died  and  suffered  for,  and  this  he  prayed  for, 
John  xvii.  ;  and  this  is  strong  above  all  ties, 
natural  or  civil,  union  in  Christ.  This  they 
have  who  are  indeed  Christians  ;  this  they 
ivould  pretend  to  have,  if  they  understood  it, 
who  profess  themselves  Christians.  If  natural 
friendsliip  be  capable  of  that  expression,  one 


spirit  in  tivo  hodit^  christian  union  hath  it 
much  more  really  aiid  pro])eily  :  for  there  is, 
indeed,  one  s])irit  more  extensive  in  all  the 
faithful,  yea,  so  one  a  spirit,  that  it  makes 
them  up  into  one  more  exteitsive.  They 
are  not  so  much  as  divers  bodies,  only  divers 
members  of  one  body. 

Now,  this  love  oi^  our  brethren  is  not  an- 
other from  the  love  of  God  ;  it  is  but  the 
streaming  forth  of  it,  or  the  reflection  of  it. 
Jesus  Christ  sending  his  spirit  into  the  heart, 
unites  it  to  God,  in  himself  by  love,  which  is 
indeed  all,  that  loving  of  God  supremely  and 
entirely,  with  all  the  mind  and  sonl,  all  the 
combined  strength  of  the  heart  !  And  then, 
that  same  love,  first  wholly  carried  to  him,  is 
not  divided  or  impaired  by  the  love  of  our 
brethren,  but  is  dilated,  as  derived  from  the 
other.  God  allows,  yea,  commands,  yea, 
causes,  that  it  stream  forth,  and  act  itself 
toward  them,  remaining  siill  in  him,  as  in 
its  source  and  centre  ;  beffinning  at  liim,  and 
returning  to  him,  as  the  beams  that  diffuse 
themselves  from  the  sun,  and  the  light  and 
heat,  yet  are  not  divided  or  cut  off  from  it, 
but  remain  in  it,  and,  by  emanation,  issue 
from  it."  In  loviiig  our  brethren  in  God,  and 
for  him,  not  only  because  he  commands  us  to 
love  them,  and  so  the  law  of  love  to  him  ties 
us  to  it,  as  his  will:  but  because  that  love  of 
God  doth  naturally  extend  itself  thus,  and  act 
thus  ;  in  loving  our  brethren  after  a  spiritual. 
Christian  manner,  we  do,  even  in  that,  love 
our  God. 

Loving  of  God  makes  us  one  with  God,  and 
so  gives  us  an  impression  of  his  Divine  bounty 
in  his  Spirit.  And  his  love,  the  proper  work 
of  his  Spirit,  dwelling  in  the  heart,  enlarges 
and  dilates  it,  as  self-love  conn  acts  and  strait- 
ens it ;  so  that  as  self-love  is  the  perfect  op- 
posite to  the  love  of  God,  it  is  likewise  so  to 
brotherlv  love  ;  it  shuts  out  and  undoes  both  ; 
and  where  the  love  of  God  is  rekind.ed  and 
enters  the  heart,  it  destroys  and  burns  up  self- 
love,  and  so  carries  the  affection  up  to  himself, 
and  in  him  forth  to  our  brethren. 

This  is  that  bitter  root  of  all  enmity  in  man 
against  God,  and,  among  men,  a<;ainst  one 
another,  se/f,  man's  heart  turned  from  God 
toward  himself:  and  the  very  work  of  re- 
newing grace  is.  to  annul  and  destroy  self,  to 
rei)lace  God  in  his  right,  that  the  heart,  ana 
all  its  affections  and  motions,  may  he  at  his 
disposal  ;  so  that,  inst(-ad  of  self-will  and  self- 
love,  which  ruled  before, now,  the  willof  God, 
and  the  love  of  God,  command  all. 

And  where  it  is  thus,  there  this  iiii>nfe'K,pia, 
this  love  of  our  brethren,  will  be  sincere. 
Whence  is  it  that  wars,  and  contests,  and 
jnutual  disgracings  and  despisings,  do  so 
much  abound,  but  that  men  love  themselves, 
and  nothing  but  themselves,  or  in  relation  to 
themselves,  as  it  pleases,  or  is  advantageous 
to  them  ?  That  is  the  standard  and  rule. 
All  is  carried  by  interest,  so  thence  are  strifes, 
and  defamings,  and  bitterness  against  one 
another.    But  the  Spirit  of  Christ  coming  iu, 


Ver.  8-1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


305 


undoes  all  selfishness.  And  now,  what  is 
according  to  God,  what  he  wills  and  loves, 
that  is  law,  and  a  powerful  law,  so  written 
on  the  heart,  this  law  of  love,  that  it  obeys, 
not  unpleasantly,  but  with  delight,  and  knows 
Qo  constraint  but  the  sweet  constraint  of  love. 
To  forgive  a  wrong,  to  love  even  thine  enemy 
for  him,  is  not  only  feasible  now,  but  delecta- 
ble,althougha  little  whileago  thou  thoughtesi 
It  was  quite  impossible. 

That  Spirit  of  Christ,  which  is  all  sweet- 
ness and  love,  so  calms  and  composes  the 
heart,  that  peace  with  (j-od,  and  that  un^peak-  j 
ably  blessed  correspondence  of  love  with  him,  ' 
do  so  fill  the  soul  with  lovingness  and  sweet- 
ness, that  it  can  breathe  nothing  else.  It  hates  | 
aothing  but  sin,  it  pities,  the  sinner,  and  car-  j 
ries  toward  the  worst  that  love  of  good  will, 
desiring  their  return  and  salvation.    But  as 
for  ihose  in  whom  appears  the  image  of  their 
Father,  their  heart  cleaves  to  them  as  breth-  j 
ren  indeed.    No  natural  advantages  of  birth, 
of  beauty,  or  of  wit,  draw  a  Christian's  love 
so  much,  as  the  resemblance  of  Christ ;  wher- 
ever that  is  found,  it  is  comely  and  lovely  to 
a  soul  that  loves  him. 

Much  communion  with  God  sweetens  and 
cairns  the  mind,  cures  the  distempers  of  pas- 
sion and  pride,  which  are  the  avowed  enemies 
of  love.  Particularly,  prayer  and  love  suit 
well. 

(I.)  Prayer  disposes  to  this  love.  He  that 
loveth  not.  knoweth  not  God,  saith  the  beloved 
apostle,  for  God  is  love.  1  John  iv.  3.  He 
that  is  most  conversant  with  love  in  the  spring 
of  it,  where  it  is  purest  and  fullest,  can  not 
but  have  the  fullest  measure  of  it,  flowing  in 
thence  into  his  heart,  and  flowing  forth  thence 
unto  his  brethren.  If  they  who  use  the  society 
of  mild  and  good  men,  are  insensibly  assimi- 
lated to  them,  grow  like  them,  and  contract 
somewhat  of  their  temper  :  much  more  doth 
familiar  walking  with  God  powerfully  trans- 
form the  soul  into  this  likeness,  making  it  mer- 
ciful, and  lovinfr,  and  ready  lo  forgive,  as  he  is. 

(2.)  This  love  disposes  to  prayer.  To  pray 
together,  hearts  must  be  consorted  and  tuned 
together  ;  otherwise,  how  can  they  sound 
the  same  suits  harmoniously  ?  How  un- 
pleasant, in  the  ex(|uisite  ear  of  God,  who 
made  the  ear,  are  the  jarring,  disunited  hearts 
that  often  seem  to  join  in  the  same  prayer, 
and  yet  are  not  set  together  in  love!  And 
when  thou  prayest  alone,  while  thy  heart  is 
imbittered  and  disafl'ectcd  to  thy  brother,  al- 
though upon  an  ofl'encu  done  to  thee,  it  is  as 
a  misiuned  instrument :  the  strings  are  not 
accorded,  are  not  in  tune  atnong  themselves, 
and  so  the  sound  is  finrsh  and  olTeiisive.  Try 
it  well  thyself,  and  tiiou  wilt  perceive  it  : 
how  much  more  he  to  whom  thou  prayest ! 
When  thou  art  stirred  and  in  passion  against 
thy  brother,  or  not,  on  the  contrary,  lovingly 
dflfected  toward  him,  what  broken,  disorder- 
ed, unfastened  stuffare  thy  requests  !  There- 
fore the  Lord  will  have  this  done  first,  the 
heart  tuned  :  Go  thy  vta^f,  says  he,  leave  thy 
30 


gift,  and  he  reconciled  to  thy  brother ;  then 
come  and  offer  thy  gift-    Matt.  v.  23. 

Why  is  this  which  is  so  much  recommend- 
ed by  Christ,  so  little  regarded  by  Christians  ? 
It  is  given  by  him  as  the  characteristic  and 
bad^e  of  his  followers ;  yet,  of  those  who 
pretend  to  be  so,  how  few  wear  it !  Oh  !  a 
little  real  Christianity  were  more  worth  than 
all  that  empty  profession  ar:d  discourse,  that 
we  think  so  much  of.  Hearts  receiviug  the 
mould  and  stamp  of  this  rule,  these  were  liv- 
ing copies  of  the  gospel.  Ye  are  our  epistle, 
says  the  apostle,  2  Cor.  iii.  2.  We  come  to- 
gether, and  hear,  and  speak,  sometimes  of 
one  grace,  and  sometimes  of  another,  while 
yet  the  most  never  seek  to  have  their  hearts 
enriched  with  the  possession  of  any  one  of 
them.  We  search  not  to  the  bottom  the 
perverseness  of  our  nature,  and  the  guilti- 
ness that  is  upon  us  in  these  things  ;  or  we 
shift  otT  the  conviction,  and  find  a  way  to  for- 
get it  when  the  hour  is  done. 

That  accursed  root,  sell-love,  which  makes 
man  an  enemy  to  God,  and  men  enemies  and 
devourers  one  of  another,  who  sets  to  the  dis- 
covery and  the  displanting  of  it  ?  Who  bends 
the  force  of  holy  endeavors  and  prayer,  sup- 
plicating the  hand  of  God  for  the  plucking 
of  it  up  ?  Some  natures  are  quieter  and 
make  less  noise,  but  rill  the  heart  be  posses- 
sed with  the  love  of  God,  it  shall  never  truly 
love  either  men  in  the  way  due  to  all,  or  the 
children  of  God  in  their  peculiar  relation. 

Among  yourselves,  &c.]  That  is  here  the 
point:  the  peculiar  love  of  the  saints  as  thy 
brethren,  glorying  and  rejoicing  in  the  same 
Father,  the  sons  of  God  begotten  again  to 
that  lively  hope  of  glory.  Now  these,  as 
they  owe  a  bountiful  disposition  to  all,  arc 
muiually  to  love  one  another  as  brethren. 

Thou  that  hatest  and  reproachest  the  god- 
ly, and  the  mcjre  they  study  to  walk  as  the 
children  of  their  holy  Father,  hatest  thera 
the  more,  and  art  glad  to  find  a  spot  on  them, 
to  point  at,  or  wilt  dash  mire  on  theiu  where 
thou  findcst  none,  know  that  thou  art  in  this 
the  enemy  of  God  ;  know  that  the  indignity 
done  to  them,  .Tesus  ^'hrist  will  lake  as  done 
to  himself  Truly,  ire  Icnoiv  that  we  have 
passed  from  death  unto  life,  hecnuse  ive  love 
the  brethren  :  he  that  loveth  not  his  brother, 
abid'-'h  m  death.  1  John  iii.  4.  So  then, 
renounce  this  word,  or  else  believe  that  thou 
art  y(M  far  from  the  life  of  Christ,  who  sO' 
hatest  it  in  others.  Oh  !  but  they  are  but  a 
number  of  hypocrites  wilt  thou  say.  If  they 
be  so,  this  declares  so  much  the  more  thy  ex- 
treme hatred  of  holiness,  that  thou  canst  not 
endure  so  much  as  the  picture  of  it ;  canst 
not  see  anything  like  it,  but  thou  must  let  fly 
at  it.  And  this  argues  thy  deep  hatred  of 
God.  Holiness  in  a  Christian  is  the  image- 
of  God,  and  the  hypocrite,  in  the  resemblance- 
of  it,  is  the  image  of  a  Christian  ;  so  that  thoU 
hatest  the  very  image  of  the  image  of  G(,d. 
For,  deceive  not  thysidf,  it  is  not  the  latent 
evil  in  hypocrisy,  but  the  apparent  good  m  i*. 


306 


^  A  COMMENTARY  UPON  TIIE 


[Chav.  IV 


that  tliou  halcst.  Thoprofaneinan  thinks  liim- 
seir  a  ijrcat  zealot  aiiamst  liyi)ocri?y  :  lie  is 
still  exclainiiiig  against  it  ;  hut  it  is  only  this 
he  is  an<rry  at,  that  all  siioiild  not  he  ungod- 
ly, the  wieked  enemies  of  religion,  as  he  is, 
either  dis-^olute,  or  merely  decent.  Anil  the 
decent  man  is  frequently  the  bitterest  enemy 
of  all  strictness  heyoiul  his  own  size,  as  con- 
demning him,  and  therefore  he  cries  it  down, 
»s  all  of  it  false  and  counterfeit  wares. 

Let  me  entreat  you,  if  you  would  not  be 
found  fii;/iters  airftinst  God,  let  no  revilings 
be  lieard  among  you,  against  any  who  are, 
or  seem  to  be,  followers  of  holiness.  If  you 
will  not  reverence  it  yourselves,  yet  rever- 
ence it  in  others  ;  at  least,  do  not  reproach  it. 
It  should  be  your  ambition,  else,  why  are 
you  willing  to  be  called  Christians?  But  il' 
you  will  not  jnirsue  holiness,  yet  persecute  it 
not.  If  you  will  not  hare  fervent  lore  to  the 
•  sai?its,  yet  burn  not  with  infernal  heat  of  fer- 
vent hatred  against  them  ;  for  truly,  that  is 
one  of  the  most  likely  pledges  of  those  flames, 
and  of  society  with  damned  spirits,  as  love 
to  the  children  of  God  is,  of  that  inheritance 
and  society  with  them  in  glory. 

You  that  are  brethren,  and  united  by  that 
purest  and  strongest  tie,  as  you  are  one  in 
your  Head,  in  your  life  derived  from  him,  in 
your  hopes  of  glory  with  him,  seek  to  be 
more  one  in  heart,  in  fervent  love  one  to  an- 
other in  him.  Consider  the  combinations 
and  concurrences  of  the  wicked  against  him 
and  his  little  Jlock,  and  let  this  provoke  you 
to  more  united  atTection.  Shall  the  scales 
of  Leviathan  (as  one  alludes)  stick  so  close 
together,  and  shall  not  the  members  of  Christ 
be  more  one  and  undivided  ?  You  that  can 
feel  it,  stir  up  yourselves  to  bewail  the  pres- 
ent divisions,  and  the  fears  of  more.  Sue 
earnestly  for  that  one  Spirit,  loact  and  work 
more  powerfully  in  the  hearts  of  his  people. 

II.  Consider  the  eminent  degree  of  this  love. 

1.  Its  eminency  among  the  graces,  above  all. 

2.  The  high  measure  of  it  required, /crwc«< 
love  [tvrti-//],  a  hiffh  bent,  or  strain  of  it;  that 
which  acts  strongly,  and  carries  flir. 

1.  It  is  eminent,  that  which  indeed  among 
Christians  preserves  all,^nd  knits  all  togeth- 
er, and  therefore  called,  Colos.  i  14,  the 
land  of  perfection:  all  is  bound  up  by  it. 
How  can  they  pray  together,  how  advance 
;he  name  of  their  God,  or  keep  in  and  stir 
ap  all  grace  in  one  another,  unless  they  be 
united  in  love  ?  How  can  they  have  access 
to  God,  or  fellowship  with  him  tnho  ix  lox^e, 
SIS  St  John  speaks,  if,  instead  of  this  sweet 
temp?r,  there  be  rancor  and  bitterness  among 
them?  So  then,  uncharilableness  and  divis- 
ions among  Christians,  do  not  only  hinder 
their  civil  good,  hut  their  spiritual  much 
more  :  and  that  not  only  Incro  cessante  (as 
they  speak),  interrupting  the  ways  of  mutual 
proriting,  but  darnno  emrri^entp,  it  doth  real- 
ly damage  them,  and  brings  them  to  losses  ; 
preys  upon  llieir  graces,  as  hot  withering 
Winds  on  iierbs  and  plants.  Where  the  heart  | 


entertains  either  hitler  malice,  or  but  niiciiar- 
itable  iirejudices,  there  will  be  a  certain  de- 
cay of  spirituality  in  the  whole  soul. 

2.  Again,  for  the  iteffrce  of  this  love  re- 
quired, it  is  not  a  cold  -iidinVrency,  a  negative 
love,  as  I  may  call  it,  or  a  noi  willing  oi  evil, 
nor  is  it  a  lukewarn  wishing  oi'  good,  but 
fervent  and  active  love  :  for,  if  fervent,  it  wiL 
be  active,  a  fire  that  will  noi  be  smothered, 
but  will  find  a  way  to  extend  itself. 

III.  The  fruits  of  this  love  follow.  1.  Cov- 
ering of  tav'/,  in  this  verse.  2.  Doing  of  good, 
ver.  9,^  &c. 

Charity  shall  cover  the  multitude  of  sins/\ 
This  ex))ressi(jn  is  taken  from  Solomon,  Prov 
X.  12  ;  and  as  covering  sins  is  represented  as 
a  main  act  of  love,  so  love  is  commended  by 
it,  this  being  a  most  useful  and  laudable  act 
of  it,  that  it  covers  sins,  and  a  multitude  of 
sins.  Solomon  saiih  (and  the  opposition  clears 
the  sense).  Hatred  stcrrclh  up  strife,  aggra- 
vates and  makes  the  worst  of  all,  hut  lore  cov- 
ereth  all  sins  :  it  delights  not  in  the  undue  dis- 
closing of  brethren's  failings,  doth  not  eye 
them  rigidly,  nor  expose  them  willingly  to 
the  eyes  of  others. 

Now  this  recommends  charity,  in  regard 
of  its  continual  usefulness  and  necessity  this 
way,  considering  human  frailty,  and  that  in 
many  things,  as  St.  James  speaks,  we  all  of- 
fend, James  iii.  2  ;  so  that  this  is  still  need- 
ful on  all  hands.  What  do  they  think  who 
are  still  picking  at  every  ai)pearing  infirmity 
of  their  brethren  ?  Know  they  not  that  the 
frailties  that  cleave  to  the  saints  of  God  while 
they  are  here,  do  stand  in  need  of,  and  call 
for,  this  mutual  office  of  love,  to  cover  and 
pass  them  by  ?  Who  is  there  that  stands  not 
in  need  of  this  ?  If  none,  why  are  there  any 
who  deny  it  to  others  ?  There  can  be  no  so- 
ciety nor  entertaining  of  Christian  converse 
without  it,  without  giving  (as  we  speak)  al- 
lowance :  reckoning  to  meet  with  defects  and 
weaknesses  on  all  hands,  and  covering  the 
failings  of  one  another,  seeing  it  is  mutually 
needful. 

Again,  as  the  necessity  of  this  commends 
it  and  the  love  whence  it  flows,  so  there  is 
that  laudable  ingenuousness  in  it  that  should 
draw  us  to  the  liking  of  it.  It  is  the  bent  of 
the  basest  and  most  worthless  spirits,  to  be 
busy  in  the  search  and  discovery  of  others' 
failings,  passing  by  all  that  is  commendable 
and  imitable,  as  base  flics  readily  silting  on 
any  little  sore  they  can  find,  rather  than  upon 
the  sound  pans.  But  the  more  excellent  mind 
of  a  real  Christian  loves  not  unnecessarily  to 
touch,  no,  nor  to  look  upon  them,  but  rather 
turns  away.  Such  never  uncover  iheir  broth- 
er's sores,  but  to  cure  them  :  and  no  more  than 
is  necessary  for  that  end  :  they  would  willing- 
ly have  them  hid,  thai  neither  they  nor  others 
might  see  them. 

This  bars  not  the  judicial  trial  of  scanda- 
lous offences,  nor  the  giving  information  of 
ihem,  and  bringing  them  under  due  censure. 
The  forbearing  of  this  is  not  charity,  but  both 


?"er.  8.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER 


307 


iniquity  and  cruelty  ;  and  this  cleaves  too 
much  to  many  of  us.  They  that  can  not  pass 
over  the  least  touch  of  a  wrong  done  to  them- 
selves, can  digest  twenty  high  injuries  done 
to  God  by  profane  persons  about  them,  and 
resent  it  not.  Such  may  be  assured  that  they 
are  as  yet  destitute  of  love  to  God,  and  of 
Christian  love  to  iheir  brethren,  which  springs 
from  it. 

The  uncovering  of  sin,  necessary  to  the 
curing  of  it,  is  not  only  no  breach  of  charity, 
but  is  indeed  a  main  point  of  it,  and  the  neg- 
lect of  it  the  highest  kind  of  cruelly.  But  fur- 
ther than  that  goes,  certainly,  ihis  rule  teach- 1 
es  the  veiling  of  our  brethren's  infirmities ) 
from  the  eyes  of  others,  and  even  from  our 
own,  that  we  look  not  on  them  with  rigor ; 
no,  nor  without  compassion. 

1.  Love  is  skilful  in  finding  out  the  fairest 
construction  of  things  doubtful  ;  and  this  is  a 
great  point.  Take  me  the  best  action  that 
can  be  named,  pride  and  malice  shall  find  a 
way  to  disgrace  it,  and  put  a  hard  visage  up- 
on it.  Again,  what  is  not  undeniably  evil, 
love  will  turn  it  in  all  the  ways  of  viewing  it, 
till  it  find  the  best  and  most  favorable. 

2.  Where  the  thing  is  so  plainly  a  sin,  that 
this  way  of  covering  it  can  have  no  place,  yet 
then  will  love  consider  what  may  lessen  it 
most ;  whether  a  surprise,  or  strength  of 
temptation,  or  ignorance  (as  our  Savior,  Fa- 
ther, forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what 
they  do),  or  natural  complexion,  or  at  least 
will  still  take  in  human  frailty,  to  turn  all 
the  bitterness  of  passion  into  sweet  compas- 1 
sion.  j 

3.  All  private  reproofs,  and  where  con- 
science requires  public  accusation  and  cen- 
sure, even  these  will  be  sweetened  in  that 
compassion  that  flows  from  love.  If  it  be 
such  a  sore  as  must  not  lie  covered  up,  lest  it 
prove  deadly,  so  that  it  must  be  uncovered,  to 
be  lanced  and  cut,  that  it  may  be  cured,  still 
this  is  to  be  done  as  loving  the  soul  of  the 
brother.  Where  the  rule  of  conscience  urges 
it  not,  then  thou  must  bury  ii,  and  be  so  far 
from  delighting  to  divulge  such  things,  that, 
as  far  as  without  partaking  in  it,  thou  mayest, 
thou  must  veil  it  from  all  eyes,  and  try  the 
way  of  private  admonition  ;  and  if  the  party 
appear  to  be  humble  and  willing  to  be  re- 
claimed- then  forget  it,  cast  it  quite  out  of  thy 
thoughts,  that,  as  much  as  may  he,  thou 
mayest  learn  to  forget  it  more.  But  this,  I 
say,  is  to  be  done  with  the  tenderest  bowels 
of  piety,  feeling  the  cuts  thou  art  forced  to 
give  in  that  necessary  incision,  and  using 
mildness  and  patience.  Thus  the  apostle  in- 
structs his  Timothy  :  Reprove,  rebuke,  exhort, 
but  do  it  with  long-svfferimr,  with  nil  lon^- 
suffering.  2  Tim.  iv.  2.  And  even  them  that 
oppose,  instruct,  says  he,  with  meekness,  if 
God  perndventure  will  <rii^e  them  repentance 
to  Ihz  acknowledginpr  of  the  truth.  2  Tim- 
othy ii.  25. 

4.  If  thou  be  interested  in  the  offence,  even 
>y  unfeigned  free  forgiveness,  so  far  as  thy 


concern  goes,  let  it  be  as  if  it  had  not  been. 
And  though  th(ju  meet  with  many  o*"  these, 
charity  will  gain  and  grow  by  such  occasions, 
and  the  more  it  hath  covered,  the  more  it  can 
cover:  cover  a  multitude,  says  our  apostle, 
covers  all  sins,  says  Solomon.  Yea,  though 
thou  be  often  put  to  it  by  the  same  party, 
what  made  thee  forgive  once,  well  improved, 
will  stretch  our  Savior's  rule  to  seventy  times 
seven  times  m  one  day.  Malt,  xviii.  2L 

And  truly  in  this  men  mistake  grossly  who 
think  it  is  greatness  of  spirit  to  resent  wrongs, 
and  baseness  to  forgive  them :  on  the  contra- 
ry, it  is  the  only  excellent  spirit  scarcely  to 
feel  a  wrong,  or,  feeling,  straightly  to  forgive 
it.  It  is  the  greatest  and  best  of  spirits  that 
enables  to  this,  the  Spirit  of  God,  that  dove- 
like Spirit  which  rested  on  our  Lord  Jesus, 
and  which  from  him  is  derived  to  all  that  are 
in  him.  I  pray  you,  think,  is  it  not  a  token 
of  a  tender  and  sickly  body,  to  be  altered  with 
every  touch  from  every  blast  it  meets  with  ? 
And  thus  is  it  a  sign  of  a  poor,  weak,  sickly 
spirit,  to  endura  nothing,  to  be  distempered 
at  the  least  air  of  an  injury,  yea,  with  the 
very  fancy  of  it,  where  there  is  really  none. 

Inf.  1.  Learn  then  to  beware  of  those  evils 
that  are  contrary  to  this  charity.  Do  not  dis- 
pute with  yourselves  in  rigid  remarks  and 
censures,  when  the  matter  will  bear  any  bet- 
ter sense. 

2dly.  Do  not  delight  in  tearing  a  wound 
wider,  and  stretching  a  real  failing  to  the  ut- 
most. 

3dly.  In  handling  of  it,  study  gentleness, 
pity,  and  meekness.  These  will  advance  the. 
cure,  whereas  the  flying  out  into  passion 
airainst  thy  fallen  brother,  will  prove  nothing 
but  as  the  putting  of  thy  nail  mto  the  sore, 
that  will  readily  rankle  it  and  make  it  worse. 
Even  sin  may  lie  sinfully  reproved  :  and  how 
thinkesi  thou  that  sin  shall  redress  sin,  and 
restore  the  sinner  ? 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  spiritual  art  and 
skill  in  dealing  with  another's  sin  :  it  requires 
much  spirituality  of  mind,  and  much  pru- 
dence, and  much  love,  a  mind  clear  from  i)as- 
sion  ;  for  that  blinds  the  eye,  and  makes  tlie 
hand  rough,  so  that  a  man  neither  rightly 
sees,  nor  riirhtly  handles  the  sore  he  goes 
about  to  cure  :  and  many  are  lost  through  the 
ignorance  and  neglect  of  that  due  temper 
which  is  to  be  brought  to  this  work.  Alea 
think  otherwise,  that  their  rigors  are  much 
spirituality  ;  but  they  mistake  it.  Brethren, 
if  a  man  he  overtaken  in  a  fault,  ye  which  are 
spiritual,  restore  such  a  one  in  the  sp:rit  of 
meekness,  considering^  thyself,  lest  thcu  also 
he  tempted,  (ral.  vi.  I. 

4thly.  For  thyself,  as  an  offence  touches 
thee,  learn  to  delight  as  much  in  that  Divine 
way  of  forgiveness,  as  carnal  minds  do  m  that 
base,  inhuman  way  of  revenge.  It  is  not,  as 
they  judge,  a  glory  to  bluster  and  swagger  for 
everything,  but  the  f^loryif  a  man  to  pass  by 
a  trans!^ri'ssion.  Prov.  xix.  11.  This  makes 
him  Godlike.    And  consider  thou  o''':eu  that 


m 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  [V 


uve  which  covers  all  thine,  that  blood  which 
was  shed  to  wash  off  thy  puilt.  Needs  any 
more  be  said  to  gain  all  in  this  that  can  be  re- 
quired of  thee  ? 

Now,  the  other  fruit  of  love,  doin^  s:ood, 
is  tirst  expressed  in  one  particular,  verse  9, 
and  then  dilated  to  a  general  rule,  at  verse  20. 

Ver.  9.  Use  hospitality  one  to  another,  without 
grudging. 

Hospitality,  or  kindness  to  strangers,  is 
mentioned  here  as  an  important  fruit  of  love, 
it  being,  in  those  times  and  places,  in  much 
use  in  travel,  and  particularly  needful  often 
among  Christians  one  to  another  then,  by 
reason  of  hot  and  general  persecutions.  But 
under  this  name,  I  conceive  all  other  supply 
of  the  wants  of  our  brethren  in  outward  things 
to  be  here  comprehended. 

Now,  for  this,  the  way  and  measure  indeed 
must  receive  its  proportion  from  the  estate 
and  ability  of  persons.  But  certainly,  the 
great  straitening  of  hands  in  these  TKTngs,  is 
more  from  the  straitness  of^  hearts,  than  of 
means.  A  large  heart,  with  a  little  estate, 
will  do  much  with  cheerfulness  and  little 
noise,  while  hearts  glued  to  the  poor  riches 
they  possess,  or  rather  are  possessed  by,  can 
scarcely  part  with  anything  till  they  be  pulled 
from  all. 

Now,  for  the  supplying  of  our  brethren's 
necessities,  one  good  help  is,  the  retrenching 
of  our  own  superiiuities.  Turn  the  stream 
into  that  channel  where  it  will  refresh  thy 
brethren  and  enrich  thyself,  and  let  it  not  run 
into  the  dead  sea.  Thy  vain  excessive  enter- 
tainments, the  gaudy  variety  of  dresses,  these 
thou  dost  not  challenge,  thinking  it  is  of  thine 
own  ;  but  know  (as  it  follows,  ver.  10),  thou 
art  but  steward  of  it,  and  this  is  not  faithfully 
laying  out  :  thou  canst  not  answer  for  it.  Yea, 
it  is  robbery  ;  thou  robbest  thy  poor  brethren 
who  want  necessaries,  while  thou  lavishest 
thus  on  unnecessaries.  Such  a  feast,  such  a 
suit  of  apparel,  is  direct  robbery  in  the  Lord's 
eye  ;  and  the  pooT  may  cry,  "  That  is  mine 
that  you  cast  awa_  so  vainly,  by  which  both 
[  and  you  might  be  profited."  Withhold  not 
good  from  them  to  whom  it  is  dve,  when  it  is 
171  the  power  of  thy  hand  to  do  it.  Proverbs 
iii.  27,  28. 

Without  !>rudging.]  Some  look  to  theac- 
lione,  but  few  to  the  intention  and  posture  of 
mind  in  them  ;  and  yet  that  is  the  main  :  it  is 
all,  indeed,  even  with  men,  so  far  as  they  can 
perceive  it,  nmch  more  with  thy  Lord,  who 
always  perceives  it  to  the  full.  He  delights 
in  the  good  he  does  his  creatures,  and  would 
Lave  them  be  so  affected  to  one  another  ;  es- 
Decially  he  would  have  his  children  bear  this 
-rait  of  his  likeness.  See,  then,  when  thou 
givest  alms,  or  entertainest  a  stranger,  that 
there  be  nothing  either  of  under-gruinbling, 
or  crooked  self-seeking  m  it.  Let  the  left 
hand  have  no  nand  m  it,  nor  so  much  as  hnow 
of  it,  as  our  Savior  directs.  Matt.  vi.  3.  Let 
'.  lot  be  to  please  men,  or  to  please  thyself, 


or  simply  out  of  a  natural  pity,  or  from  tht 
consideration  of  thy  own  possible  incidency 
into  the  like  case,  which  many  think  very 
well,  if  they  be  so  moved  :  but  here  is  a  high* 
er  principle  moving  thee,  love  to  God.  and  to 
thy  brother  in  and  for  him.  This  will  make 
it  cheerful  and  jileasant  to  thyself,  and  well- 
pleasing  to  Him  for  whom  thou  dost  it.  We 
lose  much  in  actions,  in  themselves  good, 
both  of  piety  and  charity,  through  disregard 
of  our  hearts  in  them  ;  and  nothing  will  pre- 
vail with  us  to  be  more  intent  this  way,  to  look 
more  on  our  hearts,  but  this,  to  look  more  on 
him  who  looks  on  them,  and  judges,  and  ac- 
cepts all  according  to  them. 

Though  all  the  sins  of  former  ages  gather 
and  fall  into  the  latter  times,  this  is  pointed 
out  as  the  grand  evil,  unchaiilubleness.  The 
Apostle  St.  Paul  tells  us,  2  'J'  irn.  iii.  2,  that  in 
,  the  last  days  men  shall  be  covetous,  slatidci  otis, 
i  lovers  of  pleasure  more  than  lovers  of  God — 
but  howl    Whence  all  this  confluence  of 
I  evils  ?  The  spring  of  all  is  put  first,  and  that 
[  is  the  direct  opposite  of  Christian  love:  men 
]  shall  be  [c/jiAuiro,]  lovers  of  themselves.  This 
I  is  what  kills  the  love  of  God,  and  the  love  of 
I  our  brethren,  and  kindles  that  infernal  fire  of 
love  to  please  themselves  :  riches  make  men 
voluptuous  and  covetous,  &c.    Truly,  what- 
soever become  of  men's  curious  computations 
of  times,  this  wretched  selfishness  and  decay 
of  love  may  save  us  the  labor  of  much  chro- 
'  nological  debate  in  this,  and  lead  us,  from 
this  certain  character  of  them,  to  conclude 
I  these  to  be  the  latter  times,  in  a  very  strict 
sense.    All  other  sins  are  come  down  along, 
and  run  combined  now  with  this  ;  but  truly, 
uncharitableness  is  the  main  one.  As  old  age 
is  a  rendezvous  or  meeting-jjlace  of  maladies, 
but  is  especially  subject  to  cold  diseases,  thus 
is  it  in  the  old  age  of  the  world  :  many  sins 
abound,  but  especially  coldness  of  love,  as 
\  our  Savior  foretells  it,  that  in  the  last  days  the 
love  of  many  shall  wax  cold.  Matt.  xxiv.  12. 
j  As  the  disease  of  the  youth  of  the  world  was, 
the  abounding  of  lust  (Gen.  vi.),  so  that  of  its 
age  is,  decay  of  love.  And  as  that  heat  called 
for  a  tcial  deluge  of  ■\vaters,  so  this  coldness 
calls  for  fire,  the  kindling  of  a  universal  fire, 
that  shall  make  an  end  of  it  and  the  world 
together.    Aijua  propter  ardorera  libidinis, 
ignis  propter  teporem  charitatis  :  Water  be- 
cause of  (he  heat  of  lust,  fire  because  of  the 
coldness  of  charity. 

But  they  alone  are  the  happy  men,  and  have 
the  advantage  of  all  the  ■vforld,  in  whom  the 
world  is  burnt  up  beforehand,  by  another  fire, 
that  Divine  fire  of  the  love  of  God,  kindled  in 
their  hearts,  by  which  they  ascend  up  to  him, 
and  are  reflected  from  him  upon  their  brethren, 
with  a  benign  heat  and  influence  for.  their 
good.  Oh  !  be  unsatisfied  with  yourselves, 
and  restless  till  you  find  it  thus,  till  you  find 
your  hearts  possessed  of  this  excellent  grace 
of  love,  that  you  may  have  it,  and  use  it,  and 
it  may  grow  by  using  and  acting.  I  could, 
methinks,  heartily  study  on  this,  and  wear  - 


Veh.  0.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


308 


you  ■w  ith  the  reiterated  pressing  of  this  one 
thing,  if  there  were  hopes,  in  so  wearying 
ycu,  to  weary  you  out  of  tliose  evils  that  are 
contrary  to  it,  and  in  pressing  this  grace,  to 
make  any  real  impression  of  it  upon  your 
hearts.     Besj;;?s  all  the  further  good  that 
fellows  it,  tha  t  is  in  this  love  itself  so  much 
peace  and  s'^eetness,  as  abundantly  pays 
itself,  and  all  be  labor  of  it;  whereas  pride 
and  malice  4;  fill  the  heart  with  continual  ' 
vexatious  and  disquiet,  and  eat  out  the  very 
bowels  wherein  they  breed.    Aspire  to  this,  | 
to  be  wholly  bent,  not  only  to  procure  or  I 
desire  hurt  to  none,  but  to  wish  and  seek  the 
good  ofall :  and  as  for  those  that  are  in  Christ.  ! 
surely,  that  will  unite  thy  heart  to  them,  and 
stir  thee  up,  accordmg  to  ihy  opportunities  ] 
and  power,  to  do  them  good,  as  parts  of  Christ, 
and  of  the  same  body  with  thyself 

Ver.  10.  As  every  man  hath  received  the  gift,  even 
so  minister  the  same  one  to  another,  as  good 
stewards  of  the  manifold  grace  of  God. 

This  is  the  rule  concerning  the  gifts  and 
graces  bestowed  on  men.    And  we  have  here, 

1.  Their  difference  in  their  kind  and  measure. 

2.  Their  concordance  in  their  source  and  use. 

1.  Their  difference  in  their  kind  and  mea- 
sure is  expressed  in  the  first  clause.  As  every 
one  hath  received  ;  then,  again,  in  the  last ; 
clause,  ['r.'iiti'X')]  x''i"'i  various  ox  mamf  nl d  i^rnce; 
where  v''""  s;race,  is  all  one  with  the  former, 
x'loiaiia,  f^ift,  and  is  taken  at  large  for  all  kind 
of  endowments  and  furniture  by  which  men 
are  enabled  for  mutual  good.  One  man  hath 
riches,  another,  authority  and  command, 
another,  wit  or  eloquence,  or  learning  :  and 
some,  though  eminent  in  some  one,  yet  have 
a  I'u'.ler  conjuncture  of  divers  of  these.  We 
find  not  more  difference  in  visages  and  statures 
of  body,  than  in  qualifications  and  abilities  of 
mind,  which  are  the  visage  and  stature  of  it, 
yea,  the  odds  is  far  greater  between  man  and 
•man  in  this,  than  it  can  be  m  the  other. 

2.  Now,  this  difference  accords  well  with 
the  accordance  here  expressed  in  their  com- 
mit' spring  and  common  use.    For  the  variety 
of  these  many  gifts  suits  well  with  the  singular  ; 
riches  and  wisdom  of  their  one  Giver,  and  : 
with  the  common  advantage  and  benefit  of  j 
the  many  receivers.    And  in  the  usefulness 
of  that  variety  to  the  receivers  shine  f)rth  the 
bounty  and  wisdom  of  the  Giver  in  so  order- 
ing all  that  diversity  to  one  excellent  end. 
Ko  this  ■ziiKif.q  x  ""^  manifold  ffrace,  here,  com-  ! 
mends  tiiat  rr<i.vMTr<ni>M(  mftm  manifo/d  wisdom, 
that  the  apostle  speaks  of,  Eph.  iii.  10. 

There  is  such  an  admiralile  her.uty  in  this 
variety,  such  a  wymmeiry  and  contemperature 
i>f  different,  yea,  of  contrary  qualities, as  speaks  i 
bis  riches,  that  so  divers  gifts  are  from  tlie 
same  Spirit :  a  kind  of  emhroiderini^,*  of  many 
colors  happily  mixed,  as  the  word  t.i^iAXciv  ! 
signifies  :  as  it  is  in  the  frame  of  the  natural  [ 
body  of  man,  that  lesser  wiirld,  and  in  the 
^orrLj)osition  of  the  greater  world,  thus  it  is  in 

•  The  psalmist's  word  applied  to  the  body.  Psalm 
cxixix.  12.  1 


!  the  church  of  God,  the  mystical  body  of  Jesus 
t  Christ,  exceeding  both  in  excellency  and 
'  beauty. 

I  And  as  there  is  such  art  in  this  contrivance, 
and  such  comeliness  in  the  resulting  frame, 
so  it  is  no  less  useful.  And  this  chierty  com- 
m.ends  the  thing  itself,  and  the  supreme  wis- 
dom ordering  it,  that,  as  in  the  body  each 
part  hath  not  only  its  place  for  proportion  and 
order,  but  its  several  use  ;  and  as  in  the  world 
each  part  is  beneficial  to  another,  so  here, 
every  man's  gift  relates,  and  is  fitted  to  some 
use  for  the  good  of  others. 

Infer.  1.  The  first  thing  which  ineets  us 
here,  it  is  very  useful  to  know,  that  all  is  re- 
ceived, and  received  oi  gift,  of  most  free  gift : 
so  the  words  do  carry.  Now  this  should  most 
reasonably  check  all  murmuring  in  those  who 
receive  least,  and  all  insulting  in  those  that 
receive  most.  Whatever  it  is,  do  not  repine  ; 
but  praise,  how  little  soever  it  is,  for  it  is  a 
free  gift.  Again,  how  much  soever  it  is,  be 
not  h^h-minded ,  but  fear  ;  boast  not  thyself, 
but  hurnbly  bless  thy  Lord.  For  if  thou 
didst  receive  it,  why  dost  thou  boast,  as  if  thou 
hadst  not  received  it  ?  1  Cor.  iv.  7. 

Inf.  2.  Every  man  hath  received  some  gift, 
no  man  all  gifts  ;  and  this,  rightly  considered, 
would  keep  all  in  a  more  even  temper.  As, 
in  nature,  nothing  is  altogether  useless,  so 
nothing  is  self-sufficient.  This  should  keep 
the  meanest  from  repining  and  discontent: 
He  that  hath  the  lowest  rank  in  most  respects, 
yet  something  he  haih  re,  eived,  that  is  not 
only  a  i^ood  to  himself,  but,  rightly  improved, 
may  be  so  to  others  likewise.  And  this  will 
curb  the  loftiness  of  the  most  highly  privile- 
ged, and  teach  them,  not  only  to  see  some 
deficiencies  in  themst-lves,  and  some  gifts  in 
far  meaner  persons,  which  they  want,  hut, 
besides  the  simple  discovery  of  this,  it  will 
put  them  upon  the  use  of  what  is  in  lower 
persons  ;  not  only  to  stoop  to  the  acknowledg- 
ment, but  even,  withal,  to  the  participation 
and  benefit  of  it :  not  to  trample  upon  all  that 
is  below  them,  but  to  take  up  and  use  things 
useful,  though  lying  at  their  feet.  Some 
flowers  and  herbs,  that  grow  very  low,  are 
of  a  very  fragrant  smell  and  healthful  use. 

Thou  that  carriest  it  so  high,  losest  much 
by  it.  Many  poor  Christians  whom  thou 
despisest  to  make  use  of,  may  have  that  in 
them  which  mi^ht  be  very  useful  for  thee  ; 
but  thou  overlookest  it,  and  treadest  on  it. 
Si.  Paul  acknowledgeth  he  was  comforted  by 
the  coming  of  Titus,  though  far  inferior  to 
him.  Sometimes,  a  very  mean,  unlettered 
Christian  may  speak  more  profitably  and 
comfortably,  even  to  a  knowing,  learned  man, 
than  multitudes  of  his  own  best  thoughts  can 
do,  especially  in  a  time  of  weakness  and  dark- 
ness. 

Inf.  3.  As  all  is  received  and  with  that  dif- 
ference, so  the  third  thing  is,  that  all  is  re- 
ceived to  ministrr  to  each  olhrr,  and  mulual 
benefit  is  the  true  use  of  all,  suiting  the  mind 
of  him  who  dispenses  all,  and  the  way  of  his 


310 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  I\> 


dispensation.  Thou  art  not  proprietary  lord 
ol' any  lliiiis  thou  iiast.  but  'u..ii  ./i.v  a  slcicard  ; 
and  therefore  oui;hlt'st  gjladly  to  he  a  good 
steward,  that  is  both  laithlul  and  i)rudeiit  in 
thy  intrusted  gifts,  using  ail  thou  iiast  to  the 
good  ot"  the  iiuusehold,  and  so  to  tlie  advan- 
tage of  thy  J.ord  and  Master.  Hast  thou 
ahiliiies  of  estate,  or  body  or  mind  ?  Let  all 
be  thus  employed.  Thinkest  thou  that  thy 
wealth,  or  power,  or  wit,  is  thine,  to  do  with 
Qs  thou  wilt,  to  engross  to  tliysell',  either  to 
retain  useless  or  to  use  :  to  hoard  and  wrap 
up,  or  to  lavish  out,  according  as  thy  humor 
leads  thee  ?  No,  ail  is  given  as  to  a  steward, 
wisely  and  faithi'ully  to  lay  up  and  lay  out. 
Nut  only  ihy  outward  and  common  gifts  of 
mind,  but  even  saving  crace,  which  seems 
most  intrusted  and  approj>riated  for  thy  pri- 
vate good,  yet  is  not  wholly  for  that:  even 
thy  graces  are  for  the  good  of  thy  brethren. 

Oh,  that  we  would  consider  this  in  all,  and 
look  back  and  mourn  on  the  fruitlessness  of 
all  that  hath  been  in  our  hand  all  our  life 
hitherto!  If  it  has  not  been  wholly  fruitless, 
yet  how  I'ar  short  of  that  fruit  we  might  have 
brought  forth  !  Any  little  thing  done  by  us 
looks  big  in  our  eye:  we  view  ii  through  a 
magnifymg  glass  ;  but  who  may  not  complain 
that  their  mears,  and  health,  and  opportu- 
nities of  several  kinds,  of  doing  for  God  and 
for  our  brethren,  have  lain  dead  upon  their 
hands,  in  a  great  part?  As  Christians  are 
defective  in  other  duiies  of  love,  st)  most  in 
that  most  important  duty,  of  advancing  the 
spiritual  good  of  each  other.  Even  they  who 
have  grace,  do  not  duly  use  it  to  mutual  edi- 
fication. 1  desire  none  to  leap  over  the 
bounds  of  their  calling,  or  the  rules  of  Chris- 
tian prudence  in  their  converse  :  yea,  this 
Were  much  to  he  hlamed  ;  but  I  fear  lest  un- 
wary hands,  throwing  on  water  to  quench 
that  evil,  have  let  some  of  it  fall  aside  upon 
those  sparks  that  should  rather  have  been 
stirred  and  blown  up. 

Neither  should  the  disproportion  of  gifts 
and  graces  hinder  Christians  to  minister  n?ie 
to  another:  it  should  neither  move  the  weaker 
to  envy  the  stronger,  nor  the  stronger  to  de- 
spise the  weaker  ;  hut  each,  in  his  place,  is 
to  be  serviceable  to  the  others,  as  the  apos- 
tle excellently  presses,  by  that  most  fit  re- 
semblance of  the  parts  of  the  body.  As 
the  foot  says  not,  \\  hy  am  I  not  the  ej/e  or 
the  head,  the  head  can  not  say  of  the  foot,  I 
have  no  need  of  thee.  1  Cor.  xii.  15,  21.  | 
There  is  no  envy,  no  despising  in  the  natural  i 
body.  Oh,  the  pity  there  should  be  so  much 
in  the  mystical !  Were  we  more  spiritual, 
less  of  this  would  be  found.  In  the  mean- 
time, Oh,  that  we  were  more  airreeable  to 
that  happy  estate  we  look  for,  in  our  present 
aspect  and  carriage  one  toward  another  ! 
Though  all  the  graces  of  the  Sjjirii  exist,  in 
some  measure,  where  there  i5  one,  yet  not 
«li  ni  a  line  measure.  One  C'nrisnan  is  more  I 
emnient  in  meekness,  another  in  hnmility,  a 
iJiird  in  zeal,  <5(C.    Now,  by  their  spiritual  , 


converse  one  with  another,  each  may  be  a 
gainer:  and  in  many  ways  mav  a  jirivate 
Christian  promote  the  good  of  others  with 
whom  he  lives,  by  seasonable  admonitions, 
and  advice,  and  rejiroof,  sweetened  with 
meekness,  but  most  by  holy  example,  wliich 
is  the  most  lively  and  most  ell'ectual  speech. 

'J'hou  that  hasi  greater  gil'is  hast  more  in- 
trusted in  thy  hand,  and  iherel'ore  llie  greater 
thy  obligation  to  fidelity  and  diligence.  Men 
in  great  jjlace  and  i)ui)lic  services,  ought  tc 
stir  themselves  up  by  this  thought  to  singu- 
lar watchfulness  and  zeal.  And  in  private 
converse  one  with  another,  we  ought  to  be  do- 
ing and  receiving  spiritual  good.  Are  we  not 
strangers  here?  Is  it  not  strange  that  we  so 
often  meet  and  part,  without  a  word  of  our 
home,  or  the  way  lo  it,  or  our  advance  t(.w- 
ard  it?  Christians  should  be  trading  one 
with  another  in  spiritual  things  ;  and  he, 
surely,  who  faithfully  uses  most,  receives 
most.  This  is  comprehended  under  that 
word  :  To  him  that  hath  (i.  e.  possesses  ac- 
tively and  usefully),  shall  be  given  ;  and 
from  hrm  that  hath  not  {i.  e.  uses  not),  shall 
lie  taken  away  even  that  which  he  hath.  Matt. 
XXV.  29.  Merchants  can  feel  in  their  trading 
a  dead  time,  and  complain  seriously  of  it ;  but 
Christians,  in  theirs,  either  can  suffer  it  and 
not  see  it,  or  see  it  and  not  complain,  or,  pos- 
sibly, complain  and  yet  not  be  deeply  sensi- 
ble 'of  it. 

Certainly,  it  can  not  be  sufficiently  regret- 
ted, that  we  are  so  fruitless  in  the  Lord's 
work  in  this  kind,  that  when  we  are  alone 
we  study  it  not  more,  nor  seek  it  more  by 
prayer,  to  know  the  true  use  of  all  we  re- 
ceive, and  that  we  do  not  in  society  endeavor 
it  accordingly  ;  but  we  trifle  out  our  time, 
and  instead  of  the  commerce  of  grace  to  our 
mutual  enriching,  we  trade  in  vanity,  and 
are,  as  it  were,  children  exchanging  shells 
and  toys  together. 

This  surely  will  lie  heavy  upon  the  con- 
science when  we  reflect  on  it,  and  shall  come 
near  the  utter  brink  of  time,  looking  forward 
on  eternity,  and  then  looking  back  to  our 
days,  so  vainly  wasted,  and  worn  out  to  so 
little  jmrpose.  Oh  !  let  us  awake,  awake 
ourselves  and  one  another,  to  more  fruitful- 
ness  and  faithfulness,  whatsoever  be  our  re- 
ceived measure,  less  or  more. 

Be  not  discouraged  :  to  have  little  in  the 
account  shall  be  no  prejudice.  The  appro- 
bation runs  not,  Thou  hast  mvch,  but,  on  the 
contrary.  Thou  hast  been  faithful  in  little. 
Great  faithfulness  in  the  use  of  small  gifts 
haih  great  acceptance,  and  a  great  and  sure 
reward.  Great  receipts  engage  to  greater 
returns,  and  therefore  retjuire  the  greater 
diligence  ;  and  that  not  only  for  the  increase 
of  grace  will) in,  but  for  the  assistance  of  it 
in  others.  Retired  contemjilaiion  may  be 
more  pleasing,  but  due  activity  for  God  and 
nis  church  is  more  profitable.  Rachel  was 
fair,  but  she  was  barren  ;  Leah  blear-eyed, 
but  fruitful. 


Ver.  11.] 

Veh.  1 1.  If  iinj-  ma»  speak,  let  h'm  speak  as  the  ora- 
cles of  God  ;  it'  any  man  minister,  let  liim  do  it  as 
of  tlie  ability  wliith  (iod  giveth  ;  tli;it  Ond  in  all 
things  may  be  glorified 'through  Jesus  Christ;  to 
whom  be  praise  and  dominion  for  ever  and  ever. 
Amen. 

Evert  part  of  the  body  of  Christ,  as  it  par- 
takes of  life  with  the  rest,  so  it  imparts  ser- 
vice to  the  rest.  But  there  be  some  more  em- 
inetit,  and,  as  1  may  say,  07-^ffrtzc  parts  of  this 
body,  and  these  are  more  eminently  useful  to 
the  whole.  Therefore  the  apostle,  havinij 
.  enlarged  into  a  general  precept,  adds  a  word 
in  special  reference  to  these  special  parts,  the 
preachers  of  the  word,  and  (which  here  1 
conceive  is  meant  by  deacons  or  ministers) 
the  other  assistant  officers  of  the  church  of 
God. 

These  are  co-ordained  by  Jesus  Christ,  as 
Lord  of  his  own  house,  to  be  serviceable  to 
him  in  it.  He  fits  and  sanctifies  for  this  great 
work,  all  who  are  called  unto  it  by  himself 
And  they  are  dirc^cted  for  the  acquitting  of 
their  great  work,  I.  By  a  clear  rule  of  the 
due  manner.  II.  By  the  main  end  of  its  ap- 
pointment. 

I.  Particular  rules  for  the  preaching  of  the 
word  may  be  many,  but  this  is  a  most  com- 
prehensive one  which  the  apostle  gives  :  If 
ani/  man  speak,  let  him  speak  as  Ihe  oracles 
of  Gnd.  It  is  clear  from  the  rule,  what 
speaking  is  regulated,  and  for  brevity  it  is 
once  expressed.  If  any  man  speak  the  ora- 
cles of  God,  let  him  speak  them  like  them- 
selves, as  the  oracles  of  God. 

It  is  a  chief  thing  in  all  serious  actions,  to 
take  the  nature  of  them  aright:  for  ibis 
•mainly  regulates  them,  and  directs  in  their 
performance.  And  this  esi)ecially  should  be 
regarded  in  those  things  that  are  of  highest 
•  ■worth  and  greatest  weight,  in  spiritual  em- 
ployments, wherein  it  is  most  dangerous, 
and  yet  with  us  most  ordinary,  to  mistake 
and  miscarry.  Were  prayer  considered  as 
presence  and  speech  with  the  great  God.  the 
King  of  (ilory,  Oh,  h(jw  would  this  mould 
the  mind  !  What  a  watchful,  holy,  and  hum- 
ble deportment  wtjuld  it  teach'!  So  that, 
truly,  all  directions  fur  prayer  might  be  sum- 
med up,  after  this  same  model,  in  this  one. 
If  any  man  l>ray,  let  him  ^peak  as  speaking 
icitk  God  ;  just  as  here  f  '  preaching.  If  any 
man  speak  in  that  way,  "et  him  do  it  as 
speakin'^  from  Gnd,  that  is,  as  the  oracles  of 
God.  Under  this,  all  the  due  qualifications 
of  this  holy  work  are  comprised.  I  shall 
name  but  these  three,  which  are  primary, 
and  others  may  be  easily  reduced  to  these : 
1.  Faithfully.    2.  Holihj.    3.  Wisely. 

1.  In  the  th^it,  fidelity,  it  is  supposed  that 
a  man  should  have  a  competent  insight  and 
knowledge  in  these  divine  oracles,  that  first 
he  learn  before  he  teach  :  which  many  of  us 
do  not,  though  we  pass  through  the  schools 
and  classes,  and  through  the  books  too, 
wherein  these  things  are  taught,  and  bring 
with  us  some  provision,  such  as  may  be  had 
there.    He  that  would  faithfully  leach  of  ! 


311 

God,  must  be  taught  of  God,  be  tiioiiiaKTd!, 
God-learned ;  and  this  will  help  to  all  the 
rest :  will  help  him  to  be  faithful  in  dvliver- 
ing  the  message  as  he  receives  it,  not  ue- 
tracting,  or  adding,  or  altering  :  and  as  in 
setting  forth  that  in  general  truths,  so  in  the 
particular  setting  them  home,  declaring  to  4 
his  people  their  sins,  and  God's  judgments 
following  sin,  especially  in  his  own  people. 

2.  A  minister  must  speak  holily,  with  that 
high  esteem  and  reverence  of  the  Great 
Majesty  whose  message  he  carries,  that  be- 
comes the  divinity  of  the  message  itself,  those 
deep  mysteries  that  no  created  spirits  are 
able  to  fathom.  Oh  !  this  would  make  us 
tremble  in  the  dispensing  of  these  oracles, 
considering  our  impurities,  and  weaknesses, 
and  unspeakable  disproportion  to  so  high  a 
task.  He  had  reason  who  said,  "  I  am  seized 
with  amazement  and  horror  as  often  as  I  be- 
gin to  speak  of  God."  And  with  this  hum- 
ble reverence  is  to  be  joined,  ardent  love  to 
our  Lord,  to  his  truth,  to  his  glory,  and  to  his 
people's  souls.  These  holy  affections  stand 
opposite  to  our  blind  boldness  in  rushing  on 
this  sublime  exercise  as  a  common  work,  and 
our  dead  coldness  in  speaking  of  things 
which  our  hearts  are  not  warmed  with  ;  and 
so  no  wonder  what  we  say  seldom  reaches 
further  than  the  ear,  or,  at  I'urthest,  than  the 
understanding  and  memory  of  our  hearers. 
There  is  a  correspondence  ;  it  is  the  heart 
speaks  to  the  heart,  and  the  understanding 
and  memory  the  same,  and  the  tongue  sjieaks 
but  to  the  ear.  Further,  this  holy  temper 
shuts  out  all  private  passion  in  delivering 
divine  truths.  It  is  a  high  profaning  of  his 
name  and  holy  things,  to  make  iheiii  speak 
our  private  pleas  and  (ptarrels  :  yea,  to  re- 
prove sin  after  this  manner  is  a  heinous  sin. 
To  fly  out  into  invectives,  which,  though  not 
expressed  so,  yet  are  aimed  as  blows  of"  self- 
revenge  for  injuries  done  to  us,  or  fancied  by 
us,  this  is  to  wind  and  draw  the  holy  word 
of  God  to  serve  our  unholy  distempers,  and 
to  make  it  speak,  not  his  meaning,  but  our 
own.  Surely,  this  is  not  to  speak  as  the  ora- 
cles of  God,  but  basely  to  abuse  the  word,  as 
iinposters  in  religion  of  old  did  their  images, 
speaking  behind  them,  and  through  them, 
what  might  make  for  their  advantage.  It  is 
true  that  the  word  is  to  be  |)articularly  ap- 
plied to  reprove  most  the  particular  sins 
which  most  abound  among  a  people  ;  but 
this  is  to  be  done,  not  in  anirer,  but  in  love. 

3.  The  word  is  to  be  spoken  wisely.  By 
thisj  mean,  in  the  way  of  delivering  it,  that 
it  be  done  gravely  and  decenily  ;  that  light 
expressions,  and  affected  flourishes,  and  un- 
seemly gestures,  be  avoided:  and  tliat  there 
be  a  sweet  conternperature  of  authority  and 
mildness.  But  who  is  sufficient  for  these 
thins^s? 

Now,  you  that  hear  should  certainly  meet 
and  agree  in  this  too.    If  any  hear,  let  hitn 
hear  as  the  oracles  of  God  ;  not  as  a  well 
turned  sound,  to  help  you  to  sleep  au  hour 


F  EST  EPISTLE  OF  PETEK. 


3\2 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Ckap.  IV. 


not  as  a  human  spcrch  or<iralion,  to  displease 
or  pliiise  you  lor  an  hour,  aecorilinsj  to  il»e 
Fuitiii;;  of  its  strain  and  your  palate  ;  not  as 
a  scliool  lesson,  to  add  somewhat  to  your 
stoeli  of  knowledije,  to  tell  you  S(inu'what 
you  knew  not  before,  or  as  a  feast  of  new  no- 
tii>ns.  'J'hus  the  most  relish  a  preacher, 
while  they  try  his  gift,  and  it  is  new  witii 
them,  but  a  little  time  disgusts  them.  But 
hear  as  the  oracles  of  God.  The  discovery 
of  sin  and  death  lying  on  us,  and  the  discov- 
ery of  a  Savior,  that  takes  these  off:  the 
sweet  word  of  reconciliation,  God  wooing 
man  ;  the  (rreat  King  entreating  for  peace 
with  a  company  of  rebels — not  that  they  are 
too  strong  lor  hmi,  oh  !  no,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, he  could  utterly  destroy  them  in  one 
moment  ;  these  are  tlie  things  brought  you  in 
this  word.  Therefore  come  to  it  with  suita- 
ble reverence,  with  ardent  desires,  and  hearts 
open  to  receive  it  vith  meekness,  as  the  in- 
grafted word  that  is  able  to  save  your  sot/Is. 
James  i.  21.    It  were  well  woriii  one  day's 

f)ains  of  speaking  and  hearing,  tliat  we  could 
earn  somewhat,  at  least,  how  lo  speak  and 
hear  henceforward  :  to  speak,  and  to  hear, 
as  the  oracles  of  God. 

In  the  other  rule,  of  muiistering  as  of  the 
ability  that  God  giveth,  we  may  observe : 
1.  Ability,  and  that  received  from  God  ;  for 
other  ability  there  is  none  for  any  good  work, 
and  least  of  all,  for  the  peculiar  ministration 
of  hits  spiritual  affairs  in  his  house.  2.  The 
using  of  this  ability  received  from  him  for 
them. 

And  this,  truly,  is  a  chi«f  thing  for  minis- 
ters, and  for  individual  Christians,  still  to 
depend  on  the  intluence  and  strength  of  God  ; 
lo  do  all  his  works  in  that  strength.  The 
humblest  Christian,  how  weak  soever,  is  the 
strongest.  There  is  a  natural  wretched  in- 
dependency in  us,  that  we  would  be  the 
authors  of  our  own  works,  and  do  all  without 
him,  without  whom  indeed  we  can  do  nothing. 
Let  us  learn  to  go  more  out  of  ourselves,  and 
we  shall  find  more  strength  for  our  duties,  and 
against  our  temptations.  Faith's  great  work 
is,  to  renounce  self-power,  and  to  bring  in  the 
power  of  God  to  be  ours.  Happy  they  that 
are  weakest  in  themselves,  sensibly  so.  That 
word  of  the  apostle  is  tlieirs  :  they  know  what 
it  means,  liiough  a  riddle  to  the  world  :  When 
I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong.  2  Cor.  xii.  10. 
Now, 

II.  The  end  of  all  this  appointment  is,  that 
in  all  God  may  he  glorifiid  through  Jesus 
Christ.  All  meet  in  this,  if  they  move  in  their 
straight  line:  here  concentre,  not  only  these 
two  sorts  specified  in  this  verse,  but  all  sorts 
of  persons  that  use  aright  any  gift  of  God,  as 
they  are  generally  eomprelierided  in  the  for- 
mer verse.  For  this  end  relates  to  all,  as  it 
IS  expressed  universally,  that  in  all,  in  all 
persons  and  all  things  :  the  word  bears  both, 
and  the  thing  itself  exiends  lo  both. 

Here  we  have,  like  that  of  the  heavens,  a 
•irrular  motion  oi'all  sanctified  good  :  it  comes 


forth  from  God.  through  Cirist,  unto  Chri* 
tians,  and  moving  in  them  to  the  mutual  good 
of  each  other,  return.s  through  Christ  unto 
God  again,  and  takes  them  along  with  it,  in 
whom  it  was,  and  had  its  motion. 

All  persons  and  all  tilings  shall  pay  this 
tribute,  even  they  that  most  wickedly  seek 
to  withhold  it :  but  this  is  the  ha|)])iness  of 
the  saints,  that  they  move  willingly  thus,  ar* 
sweetly  drawn,  not  forced  or  driven.  They 
are  gained  to  seek  and  desire  ibis,  to  set  m 
with  God  in  the  intention  of  the  same  end  ; 
to  have  the  same  purpose  with  him,  his  glory 
in  all,  and  to  prosecute  his  end  by  his  direc- 
tion, by  the  means  and  ways  he  appoints 
them. 

This  is  his  due,  as  God  :  and  the  declining 
from  this,  the  squinting  from  this  view  to 
self-ends,  especially  i:i  God's  own  peculiar 
work,  is  high  treason.  Yet,  the  base  heart 
of  man  leads  naturally  this  way,  to  intend 
himself  in  all,  to  raise  his  own  esteem  or 
advantage  in  some  way.  And  in  this  the 
heart  is  so  subtle,  that  it  will  deceive  the 
most  discerning,  if  they  be  not  constant  in 
suspecting  and  watching  it.  This  is  the  great 
task,  to  overcome  in  this  point  ;  to  have  self 
under  our  feet,  and  God  only  in  our  eye  and 
purpose  in  all. 

It  is  most  reasonable,  his  due  as  God  the 
author  of  all,  not  only  of  all  sujiervenieni 
good,  but  even  of  being  itself,  seeing  all  is 
from  him,  that  all  be  for  him  :  For  of  him, 
and  through  him,  and  to  htm,  are  all  things  : 
to  uhom  be  glory  for  ever.  Amen.  Rom. 
xi.  ult. 

As  it  is  most  just,  so  it  is  also  most  sweet, 
to  aim  in  all  at  this,  that  God  be  glorified  : 
it  is  the  alone  worthy  and  hajijiy  design,  which 
fills  the  heart  with  heavenlmess,  and  with  a  • 
heavenly  calmness  ;  sets  it  above  the  cloudf 
and  storms  of  those  passions  which  disquiet 
low,  self-seeking  minds.  He  is  a  miserable 
unsettled  wretch,  who  cleaves  to  himself  and 
forgets  God  ;  is  perplexed  about  his  credit, 
and  gain,  and  base  ends,  which  are  of  ten  bro- 
ken, and  which,  when  he  attains,  yet  ihey 
and  he  must  shortly  perish  together.  When 
his  estate,  or  designs,  or  any  comforts  fail, 
how  can  he  look  to  him  at  whom  he  looked 
so  little  before?  May  not  the  Lord  say,  Go 
to  the  gods  ivhom  thou  hast  served,  and  let 
them  deliver  and  comfort  ihee  ;  seek  comfort 
from  thyself,  as  thou  didst  all  for  thyself? 
What  an  appalment  will  this  be!  But  he 
that  hath  resigned  himself,  and  is  all  for  (Jod, 
may  say  confidently,  that  the  Lord  is  his  pot' 
turn.  This  is  the  Christian's  aim,  to  have 
nothing  in  himself,  nor  in  anything,  but  on 
this  tenure:  all  for  the  glory  of  my  God, — 
my  estate,  family,  abilities,  my  whole  self, 
all  I  have  and  am.  And  as  the  love  of  God 
grows  in  the  heart,  this  pur])ose  grows:  the 
higher  the  flame  rises,  tlie  purer  it  is.  The 
eye  is  daily  more  upon  it  :  it  is  oftener  in  the 
mind  in  all  actions  than  before,  in  common 
things,  the  very  works  of  our  callings,  oui 


Ver.  12,  13.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


313 


very  refreshments,  to  eat  and  drink,  and  sleep, 
are  all  fur  tliis  end,  and  with,  a  particular  aim 
at  it  as  much  as  may  be  ;  even  the  thought 
of  it  often  renewed  throughout  the  day,  and 
at  times,  generally  applied  to  all  our  ways 
and  employments.  It  is  this  elixir  that  turns 
tiiy  ordinary  works  into  gold,  into  sacrifices, 
by  the  touch  of  it. 

Throui;h  Jesus  Christ.]  The  Christian  in 
covenant  with  God,  receives  all  this  way,  and 
returns  all  ihis  way.  And  Christ  possesses, 
and  hath  equal  right  with  the  Father  to  this 
glory,  as  he  is  equally  the  sprmg  of  it  with 
him,  as  God.  But  it  is  conveyed  through 
him  as  Mediator,  who  obtains  all  the  grace 
we  receive  :  and  all  the  glory  we  return,  and 
all  our  praise,  as  our  spiritual  sacrifice,  is  put 
iuto  his  hand  as  our  High-priest,  to  offer  up 
for  UP,  that  may  be  accepted. 

Now  the  holy  ardor  of  the  apostle's  affec- 
tions, taken  with  the  mention  of  this  glory 
of  God,  carries  him  to  a  doxology,  as  we  term 
it,  a  rendering  of  glory,  in  the  middle  of  his 
discourse.  Thus  often  we  find  in  St.  Paul 
likewise.  Poor  and  short-lived  is  the  glory 
and  grandeur  of  men  ;  like  themselves,  it  is 
a  shadow,  and  nothing  ;  but  this  is  solid  and 
lasting,  it  is  supreme,  and  abideth  for  ever. 
And  the  apostles,  full  of  divine  aff"ections,  and 
admiring  nothing  but  God,  do  delight  in  this, 
and  can  not  refrain  from  this  at  any  time  in 
their  discourse :  it  is  always  sweet  and  season- 
able, and  they  find  it  so.  And  thus  arc  spirit- 
ual minds:  a  word  of  this  nature  fails  on  them 
as  a  spark  on  some  matter  that  readily  takes 
fire  ;  they  are  straight  inflamed  with  it.  But 
alas!  to  us  how  much  is  it  otherwise  I  The 
mention  of  the  praises  and  glory  of  our  God, 
is,  to  our  hearts,  as  a  spark  falling  either  into 
a  puddle  of  water,  and  foul  water  too,  or  at 
least,  as  upon  gr^en  timber,  that  much  fire 
will  not  kindle  ;  there  is  so  much  moisture 
of  our  humors  and  corruptions,  that  all  dies 
GUI  with  us,  and  we  remain  cold  and  dead. 

But  were  not  this  a  high  and  blessed  con- 
dition, to  be  in  all  estates  in  some  willing 
readiness  to  bear  a  part  in  this  .song,  to  ac- 
knowledge the  greatness  and  goodness  of  our 
God,  and  to  wish  him  fflory  in  all  ?  What 
are  the  angels  doing  ?  This  is  their  business, 
and  that  without  end.  And  seeing  we  hope 
to  [lartake  with  them,  we  should  even  here, 
though  in  a  lower  key,  and  not  so  tunably 
neither,  yet,  as  we  may,  begin  it  ;  and  upon 
ail  occasions,  our  iiearts  should  be  often  fol- 
lowing in  this  sweet  note,  or  offering  at  it, 
To  him  be  glory  and  dominion  for  ever. 

Ver.  12.  Bfloi-ed.  think  it  not  strange  concerning  the 
fiery  iriiil  wliich  is  to  try  you,  as  though  some 
stran;;!-  thin?  h.ipppnerl  unto  you. 
Ver.       But  ri^joiei",  inasmuch  as  you  are  partakers 
of  Christ's  sulF'  riii^js  ;  that  when  his  glory  shall  he 
reveahd,  j  p  may  he  glad  also  with  exceeding  joy. 
This  fightin<r  life,  surely,  when  we  consider 
It  aright,  we  need  not  be  dissuaded  from  lov- 
ing  t,  but  have  rather  need  to  be  strcnsih- 
em  \  with  patience  to  go  through,  and  to  fight 
40 


;  on  with  courage  and  assurance  of  victory  , 
still  combating  in  a  higher  strength  than  our 
own,  against  sin  within  and  troubles  without. 
This  is  the  great  scope  of  this  epistle,  and  the 
apostle  often  interchanges  his  advices  and 
comforts  in  reference  to  these  two.  A^^nuist 
sin  he  instructs  us  in  the  beginning  of  this 

[  chapter,  urging  us  to  be  armed,  armed  uulk 
the  same  mind  that  was  in  Christ,  and  here 

j  again,  against  suffering,  and  both  in  a  like 

j  way.  In  the  mortifying  of  sin,  we  suffer 
with  him,  as  there  he  teaches,  verse  1  of  this 
chapter:  and  in  the  encountering  of  affliction, 
we  suffer  with  him,  as  here  we  have  it ;  and 
so,  the  same  mind  in  the  same  sufferings  will 
bring  us  to  the  same  issue.  Beloved,  think  it 
not  strange  concerning  the  fiery  trial  which  is 
to  try  you,  &c.  But  rejoice,  inasmuch  as  ye 
are  partakers  of  Christ^s  sufferings ;  that 
when  his  glory  shall  be  revealed,  ye  likewise 
may  be  glad  with  exceeding  joy. 

The  words,  to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  con- 
tain grounds  of  encouragement  and  consola- 
tion for  the  children  of  God  in  sufTeriugs,  es- 
pecially in  suffering  for  God. 

These  two  verses  have  these  two  things: 
I.  The  close  conjunction  of  sufferings  with 
the  estate  of  a  Christian.  II.  The  due  com- 
posure of  a  Christian  toward  suffering. 

I.  It  is  no  new,  and  therefore  no  strange 
thing,  that  sufferings,  hot  sufferings,  fiery 
ones,  be  the  companions  of  religion.  Besides 
the  common  miseries  of  human  life,  there  is 
an  accession  of  troubles  and  hatreds  for  that 
holiness  of  life  to  which  the  children  of  God 
are  called. 

It  was  the  lot  of  the  church  from  her  wick- 
ed neighbors,  and  in  the  church,  the  lot  of  the 
most  holy  and  i)eculiar  servants  of  God,  from 
the  profane  multitude.  Wo  is  me,  mi/  mother, 
says  Jeremiah,  that  thou  hast  born  me  a  man 
of  strife,  and  a  man  of  contention  to  the  whole 
earth.  Jer.  xv.  10.  And  of  all  the  prophets, 
says  not  our  Savior,  handling  this  same  ar- 
gument in  his  sermon,  .So  persecuted  they  the 
prophets  that  were  before  ynu  ?  Matt.  v.  12. 
And  afterward,  he  tells  them  what  they 
might  look  for:  Behold,  says  he,  I  send  you 
forth  as  sheep  in  the  midst  of  wolves.  Matt. 
X.  16.  And,  in  general,  there  is  no  following 
of  Christ,  but  with  his  badge  and  burden. 
Something  is  to  be  left,  we  ourselves  are  to 
be  left  :  Whosoever  will  be  my  disciple,  let  him 
deny  himself ;  and  somewhat  to  take:  Take 
up  his  cross  and  follow  me.  Matt.  xvi.  24. 
And  doth  not  the  aposile  give  his  scholars 
this  universal  lesson,  as  an  infallible  truth. 
All  that  will  live  godly  in  .fesiis  Christ,  shall 
suffer  persecution  ?  Look,  in  the  close  of  that 
rcjil  of  believers  conquering  in  suffering-,  what 
a  cluster  of  sufferings  and  torture  you  have. 
Heb.  xi.36,  &c.  Thus  in  the  |)riinitivc  times, 
lh(!  trial,  and  fiery  trial,  even  literally  so,  con- 
tinued long.  Those  wicked  cm])erors  hated 
the  very  innocency  of  Christians  ;  and  the 
I)eople,  though  they  knew  their  blameless 
cariiage,  vet.  when  any  evil  came,  would 


314 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Ohap.  rv 


pick  this  quarrel,  ami  still  cry,  C/iristianos  ad 
leones. 

Now  this,  if  wo  look  to  inferior  causes,  is 
not  stran^'e,  ilic  nialij;iiam  uiii^odly  worlil  ha- 
ting holiness,  haliin;  the  /itfhl,  yea,  liie  very 
shadow  of  it.  And  the  more  the  ciiildren  of 
Odd  walk  like  iheir  Father  and  tlieir  lionie, 
the  more  unlike  must  they,  of  necessity,  be- 
come to  the  world  about  them,  and  therefore 
become  tlie  very  mark  of  all  their  enmities 
and  malice. 

And  thus,  indeed,  the  godly,  though  the 
suns  of  peace,  are  the  improj)er  causes,  the 
occasion  of"  much  noise  and  disturt)ance  in  the 
world  ;  as  their  Lord,  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
avows  it  openly  of  himself  in  that  sense:  / 
came  not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword,  to  set  a 
man  at  variance  with  his  father,  and  the 
daughter  against  the  mother,  &c.  Matt.  x.  34. 
If  a  son  in  a  family  liegin  to  inquire  after 
God.  and  withdraw  from  tlieir  jirofane  or 
dead  way,  oh,  what  a  clamor  rises  presently  ! 
"  Oh,  my  son,  or  daughter,  or  wife,  is  become 
a  phiia  fool,"  &c.  And  then  is  all  done  that 
may  be,  to  quell  and  vex  them,  and  make 
their  life  grievous  to  thein. 

The  exact  holy  walking  of  a  Christian  re- 
ally condemns  the  world  about  him  :  shows 
the  disorder  and  foulness  of  their  profane 
ways.  The  life  of  religion,  set  hy  the  side  of 
dead  formality,  discovers  it  to  be  a  carcass,  a 
lifeless  appearance ;  and.  for  this,  neither 
grossly  wicked,  nor  decent,  formal  persons, 
can  well  digest  it.  There  is  in  the  life  of  a 
Christian  a  convincing  light,  that  shows  the 
deformity  of  the  works  of  darkness,  and  a 
piercing  heat,  that  scorches  the  ungodly,  and 
stirs  and  troubles  their  consciences.  This 
they  can  not  endure,  and  hence  rises  in  thcin 
a  contrary  fire  of  wicked  hatred,  and  hence 
the  trials,  the  fiery  trials  of  the  r"idly.  If  they 
could  get  those  precise  persons  removed  out 
of  their  way,  they  think  they  might  then  have 
more  room,  and  live  at  more  liberty  :  as  it  is, 
Kev  xi.  10,  a  carousing  f x;ao.ii(Tii/].  What  a 
danct  :here  was  about  the  two  dead  bodies 
of  the  two  witnesses  !  The  people  and  na- 
tions rejoiced  and  made  merry,  and  sent  gifts 
one  to  another,  because  these  tico  prophets 
tormented  them  that  dwelt  on  the  earth.  And 
frorr.  the  same  hearth,  I  mean  the  same  wick- 
edness of  heart  in  the  world,  are  the  fires  of 
persecution  kindled  against  the  saints  in  the 
world,  and  the  bonfires  of  joy  when  they  are 
rid  of  them. 

And  as  this  is  an  infernal  fire  of  enmity 
against  God,  so  it  is  blown  by  that  spirit 
whose  element  it  is.  Satan  stirs  up  and 
blows  the  coal,  and  raises  the  hatred  of  the 
uncodly  a2:ainst  Christians. 

But  while  he,  and  iliey  in  whom  he  power- 
fully works,  are  thus  working  for  their  vile 
ends  in  the  persecution  of  tin,'  saints.  He  who 
sovereiH'nIy  orders  all,  is  workin.;  n  the  same, 
his  wise  and  gracious  ends,  and  attains  them, 
and  makes  the  malice  of  his  enemies  serve 
his  ends  and  undo  tlieir  own.    It  is  true,  that 


hy  the  heat  of  persecution  many  are  scared 
from  embracing  religion  :  such  as  love  them- 
selves and  their  present  ease,  and  others  that 
seemed  to  iiavc-  embraced  it,  are  driven  to  let 
it  go  and  i'all  from  it  ;  but  yet,  when  all  is 
well  computed,  religion  is  still  upon  the  gain- 
ing hand.  Those  wlio  reject  it,  or  revolt  from 
it,  are  such  as  have  no  true  knowledge  of  it. 
or  share  in  it,  nor  in  that  happiness  in  (vhich 
it  ends.  But  they  that  are  indeed  united  to 
Jesus  Christ,  do  cleave  the  closer  to  him,  and 
seek  to  have  tin  ir  hearts  more  fastened  to 
him,  because  of  the  trials  that  they  are,  oi 
may  probably  be  put  to.  And  in  their  victo- 
rious patience  appears  the  invincible  power 
of  religion  where  it  hath  once  gained  the 
heart,  that  it  can  not  be  beaten  or  burnt  out : 
itself  is  a  fire  more  mighty  lhan  all  ihe  fires 
kindled  against  it.  The  love  of  Christ  con- 
quers and  triumphs  in  the  hardest  sufi'erings 
of  life,  and  in  death  itself. 

And  this  hath  been  the  means  of  kindling 
it  in  other  hearts  which  were  strangers  to  it, 
when  they  beheld  the  victorious  patience  of 
the  saints,  who  conquered  dying,  as  their 
Head  did  ;  who  wearied  their  tormentors,  and 
triumphed  over  their  cruelty  by  a  constancy 
far  above  it. 

Thus,  these  fiery  trials  make  the  lustre  of 
faith  most  appear,  as  cold  shines  briuhtest  in 
the  furnace  ;  and  if  any  dross  be  mixed  with 
it,  it  is  refined  and  purified  from  it  by  these 
trials,  and  so  it  remains,  by  means  of  the  fire, 
purer  than  before.  And  both  these  are  in  the 
resemblance  here  intended  ;  that  the  fire  of 
sufferings  is  for  the  advantage  of  believers, 
both  as  trying  the  exctllency  of  i'aith.  giving 
evidence  of  it,  what  it  is,  and  also  purifying 
it  from  earth  and  drossy  mixtures,  and  ma- 
king it  more  excellently  what  it  is,  raising  it 
to  a  higher  pitch  of  refinedness  and  worth. 
In  these  fires,  as  faith  is  tried,  so  the  word 
on  which  faith  relies  is  tried,  and  is  found  all 
gold,  most  precious,  no  refuse  in  it.  The 
truth  and  the  sweetness  of  the  promises  are 
much  confirmed  in  the  Christian's  heart,  upon 
his  experiment  of  them  in  his  sull'erings.  His 
God  is  found  to  be  as  good  as  his  woid,  being 
with  him  when  he  goes  through  the  tire  (Isa. 
xliii.  2),  preserving  him,  so  that  he  loses  noth- 
ing except  dross,  which  is  a  <rainful  loss — 
leaves  only  of  his  corruption  behind  him. 

Oh  !  how  much  worth  is  it,  and  how  doth 
it  endear  the  heart  to  God,  to  have  found  him 
sensibly  present  in  the  times  of  trouble,  re- 
freshing the  soul  with  dews  of  spiritual  com- 
fort in  the  midst  of  the  flames  of  fiery  trial. 

One  special  advantage  of  these  fires  is,  the 
purifying  of  a  Christian's  heart  from  tlie  love 
of  the  world  and  of  present  things.  It  is  true, 
the  world  at  best  is  base  and  despicable,  in 
respect  of  the  high  estate  and  hoi^'S  of  a  be- 
liever; yet  slill  there  is  somewhat  within  him 
that  would  bend  him  downward,  and  draw 
him  to  too  much  complacency  in  outward 
things,  il'they  were  much  to  his  mind.  Too 
kind  usage  might  sometimes  make  him  for 


Vek.  12,  13.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


315 


get  himself  and  think  himself  at  home,  at 
ieai.t  so  much  as  not  to  entertain  those  long- 
ings after  home,  and  that  ardent  progress 
homeward,  that  become  him.  It  is  good  for 
us,  certainly,  to  find  hardship,  and  enmities, 
and  contempts  here,  and  to  find  them  fre- 
quent, that  we  may  not  tliink  them  strange, 
but  ourselves  strangers,  and  may  think  it 
were  strange  for  us  to  be  otherwise  enter- 
tained. Tliis  keeps  the  affections  more  clear 
and  disengaged,  sets  them  upward.  Thus 
the  Lord  makes  the  world  displeasing  to  his 
own,  that  they  may  turn  in  to  him,  and  seek 
all  their  consolations  in  himself.  Oh,  un- 
speakable advantage  ! 

II.  The  composure  of  a  Christian,  in  ref- 
erence to  sufferings,  is  prescribed  in  these 
two  following,  reso/vini!'  and  rejoicing:  1. 
Pi.esolving  to  endure  them,  reckoning  upon 
them.  Think  it  not  strange,  j^h  ^cvii^caOt;  2. 
Rejoicing  in  them,  x"'?""*!  Be  glad,  inas- 
7nvch,  &c. 

Be  not  strangers  in  it.]  Which  yet  natu- 
rally we  would  be.  We  are  willing  to  hear 
of  peace  and  ease,  and  would  gladly  believe 
what  we  extremely  desire.  It  is  a  thing  of 
prime  concern,  to  take  at  first  a  riglit  notion 
of  Christianity.  This  many  do  not,  and  so 
either  fall  off  quickly,  or  walk  on  slowly  and 
heavily  ;  they  do  not  reckon  right  the  charges, 
take  not  into  the  account  the  duties  of  doing 
and  suffering,  but  think  to  perform  some  du- 
ties, il'  they  may  with  ease,  and  have  no  other 
foresi<jhi :  they  do  not  consider  that  self-deni- 
al, that  fighting  against  a  man's  sell",  and 
fighting  vehemently  with  the  world,  those 
trials,  fiery  trials,  which  a  Christian  must  en- 
counter with.  As  ihey  observe  (;f  other  points, 
so  popery  is  in  this  very  compliant  with  na- 
ture, which  is  a  very  bad  sign  in  religion. 
We  would  be  content  it  were  true  that  the 
true  church  of  Christ  had  rather  prosperity 
and  pomp  for  her  badge  than  the  cross  ;  much 
ease  and  riches,  and  few  or  no  crosses,  ex- 
cept they  were  painted  and  gilded  crosses, 
such  as  that  church  hath  chosen,  instead  of 
real  ones. 

Most  men  would  give  relis-ion  a  fair  coun- 
tenan(;e,  if  it  tjave  them  fair  weather  ;  and 
they  that  do  indeed  acknowledge  Christ  to  be 
the  Son  of  Cod,  as  St.  Peter  did,  yet  are  natu- 
rally as  unwillwig  as  he  was  to  hear  the  hard 
news  of  sufi'erin^:  and  if  their  advice  might 
have  place,  wuuldreadily  be  of  his  mind,  lie 
il  far  from  thee.  Lord.  Matthew  xvi.  22,  2:i. 
His  good  confessi(Hi  was  not,  but  this  kind  ad- 
vice was  from  flesh  and  hlood,  and  from  an 
evil  spirit,  as  the  sharp  answer  tells  :  Get 
thee  hrliind  me,  Satan,  thou  art  an  offence 
unto  me. 

V'ou  know  what  kind  of  Messiah  the  Jews 
penerally  dreamed  of.  and  therefore  took  of- 
fence at  the  meanness  and  sulFeruigs  of  Christ, 
expcciincf  an  earthly  kin^,  and  an  outwardly 
flouiisliing  stale.  And  the  disciples  them- 
selves, after  they  had  been  l(;ng  with  him, 
vere  still  in  that  same  dream,  when  they 


were  contesting  about  imaginary  places.  Yea, 
they  were  scarcely  well  out  of  it,  even  after 
his  suffering  and  death  :  all  the  noise  and 
trouble  of  that  had  not  well  awaked  them. 
We  trusted  it  had  been  he  which  should  have 
restored  Israel.  Luke  xxxiv.  12. 

And,  after  all  that  we  have  read  and  heard 
of  ancient  times,  and  of  Jesus  Ciirisi  himself, 
his  sufferings  in  the  flesh,  and  of  his  apostles 
and  his  saints,  from  one  age  to  another,  ytt 
still  we  have  our  inclinations  to  this  practice 
ol'  driving  troubles  far  off  from  our  thoughts, 
till  they  come  upon  our  backs,  fancying  ntiih- 
ing  but  rest  and  ease,  till  we  be  shaken  rudely 
out  of  it. 

How  have  we  of  late  flattered  ourselves, 
many  of  us  one  year  after  another,  upon  slight 
appearances,  "  Oh,  now  it  will  be  peace!" 
And,  behold,  still  trouble  hath  increased,  and 
these  thoughts  have  proved  the  lying  visions 
of  our  own  hearts,  while  the  Lord  hath  not 
spoken  of  it.  Ezek.xiii.  7.  And  thus,  of  late, 
have  we  thought  it  at  hand,  and  taken  ways  of 
our  own  to  hasten  it,  which,  I  fear,  will  prove 
fool's  haste,  as  you  say. 

You  that  know  the  Lord,  seek  him  earnest- 
ly for  the  averting  of  further  troubles  and 
combustions,  which,  if  you  look  ariijht,  you 
will  find  threatening  us  as  much  as  ever. 
And  wiihal,  seek  hearts  prepared  and  fixed 
for  days  of  trial,  y/cr?/  trial.  Yea.  though  we 
did  obtain  some  breathing  of  our  outward 
peace,  yet  shall  not  the  followers  of  Christ 
want  their  trials  from  the  hatred  of  the  un- 
godly world.  If  it  persecuted  //le,  says  he,  it 
will  also  persecute  you.  John  xv.  20. 

Acquamt,  therefore,  your  thoughts  and 
hearts  with  suflerings,  that  when  tliey  come, 
thou  and  they  not  being  strangers,  may  ai^ree 
and  comply  the  better.  Do  not  alllicl  your- 
selves with  vain  fears  beforehand  of  troubles 
to  come,  and  so  make  uncertain  evils  a  cer- 
tain vexation  by  advance  :  but  thus  forelhink 
the  hardest  trial  you  are  likely  to  be  jmi  to 
for  the  name  and  cause  of  Christ,  and  labor 
for  a  holy  stability  of  mind,  for  encountering 
it  if  it  should  come  upon  you.  Things  cer- 
tainly fall  the  lighter  on  us,  when  thev  fall 
first  upon  our  thouichts.  In  this  way,  indeed, 
of  an  imaixined  suffering,  the  conquest  before- 
hand may  be  hut  imairinary,  and  ihou  mayest 
fail  in  the  trial.  Therei'ore,  be  still  humbleand 
dependant  on  the  strength  of  Christ,  and  seek 
to  be  previously  furnished  with  much  distrust 
of  thyself,  and  much  trust  in  him,  with  much 
denial  of'tliyself,  and  much  love  to  him  ;  and 
this  preparing  and  training  of  ihe  heart  may 
prove  useful,  and  make  it  more  dexterous, 
when  brought  to  a  real  conflict.  In  all,  both 
beforehand  and  in  the  time  of  the  trial,  make 
thy  Lord  Jesus  all  thy  strength.  That  is  our 
only  way  in  all  to  be  conquerors,  to  he  more 
than  coni/uerors,  through  him  that  loved  us 
Rom.  viii.  37. 

Think  it  not  strange,  for  it  is  not.  Suit 
your  thouufhts  to  the  experience  and  verdict 
of  all  times,  and  to  the  warnings  that  the 


316 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


LChap.  rv 


Spirit  of  God  hath  givpii  us  in  the  ScripTures, 
and  our  Savior  hiiiisi'lf  iVoin  his  own  inouth, 
and  ill  the  exaiiiple  which  lie  sliowed  in  his 
own  person,    liui  the  point  goes  liiglier. 

Rejbice.]  Tliough  we  think  not  the  sufTer- 
ings  s/raHi'c,  yet,  may  we  not  well  think 
tliat  rule  somewhat  strange,  to  rrjotcc  in 
thetn  ?  No,  it  will  he  louiui  as  reasonal)le 
as  the  oilier,  iieing  duly  considered.  And  it 
rests  upon  the  same  ground,  which  will  bear 
both.  Innsinurh  as  you  are  partakers  of  the 
sujferini;s  of  Christ. 

If  the  children  of  God  consider  their  trials, 
not  in  their  natural  bitterness,  but  in  the 
sweet  love  whence  they  spring,  and  the 
sweet  fruits  that  spring  from  thetn,  that  we 
are  our  Lord's  gold,  and  that  he  tries  us  in 
the  i'urnace  to  purify  us  (as  in  the  former 
verse),  this  may  beget  not  only  patience,  but 
gladness  even  in  the  sufferings.  But  add  we 
this,  and  truly  it  completes  the  reason  of  this 
way  of  rejoicing  in  our  saddest  sufferings, 
that  in  them  we  are  partakers  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ. 

So  then,  1.  Consider  this  twofold  connected 
participation,  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ  and 
of  the  after-glory.  2.  The  present  joy,  even 
in  sufferings,  springing  from  that  participa- 
tion. 

I  need  not  tell  y^ou,  that  this  communion 
m  sufferings,  is  not  in  point  of  expiation,  or 
satisfaction  to  Divine  justice,  which  was  the 
peculiar  end  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ  per- 
sona/, but  not  of  the  common  sufferings  of 
Christ  mystical.  He  hare  our  sins  in  his  otm 
body  on  the  tree,  and  in  bearing  them,  took 
them  away:  we  bear  his  sufferinss,  as  his 
body  united  to  him  by  his  Spirit.  Those  suf- 
ferings which  were  his  personal  burden,  we 
partake  the  sweet  fruits  of :  they  are  account- 
ed ours,  and  we  are  acquitted  by  them  ;  but 
the  endurance  of  them  was  his  high  and  in- 
communicable task,  in  which  none  at  all 
were  with  him.  Our  communion  in  these  as 
fully  completed  by  himself  in  his  natural 
body,  is  the  ground  of  our  comfort  and  joy  in 
those  sufferings  that  are  completed  in  his 
mystical  body,  the  church. 

This  is  indeed  our  joy,  that  Ave  have  so 
light  a  burden,  so  sweet  an  exchange;  the 
weight  of  sin  quite  taken  off  our  backs,  and 
all  bound  on  his  cross  onlv,  and  our  crosses, 
the  badges  of  our  conformity  to  him,  laid  in- 
deed on  our  shoulders,  but  the  great  weight 
of  them  likewise  held  up  by  his  hand,  that 
they  overpress  us  not.  These  fires  of  our 
trial  may  be  corrective,  and  purgative  of  the 
remaining  power  of  sin,  and  they  are  so  in- 
tended ;  but  Jesus  Christ  alone,  in  the  suffer- 
ings of  his  own  cross,  was  the  burnt-offering, 
the  propil tat  1071  for  our  sins. 

Now,  although  he  hath  perfectly  satisfied 
for  us,  and  saved  us  by  his  sufferings,  yet 
this  conformity  to  him  in  the  way  of  suffer- 
ing is  most  reasonable.  Alihouirh  our  holi- 
ness doih  not  stand  in  point  of  law,  nor  come 
(Q  at  all  in  the  matter  of  justifying  us,  ye',  w? 


are  called  and  appohited  to  hoiiness  in  Christ 
as  assimilating  us  to  him,  our  glorious  head 
and  we  do  really  receive  it  from  him.  tha 
we  may  be  like  him.  So  these  our  suffer 
ings  bear  a  very  congruous  likeness  to  him, 
though  in  no  way  as  au  accession  to  his  in 
expiation,  yet  as  a  i)art  of  his  im»ge  ;  and 
therefore  the  apostle  says,  even  in  this  re- 
s])ect,  that  we  are  predestinated  to  be  con- 
formed to  the  image  of  his  Son.  Rom.  viii. 
29.  Is  it  fit  that  we  should  not  follow  where 
our  Captain  led,  and  went  first,  but  that  he 
should  lead  through  rugged,  thorny  ways, 
and  we  pass  about  to  get  away  through  flow- 
ery meadows?  As  his  natural  body  shared 
with  his  head  in  his  sufFerings,  so  ought  his 
body  mystical  to  share  with  him,  as  its  head 
— the  buffetings  and  spittings  on  his  face,  the 
thorny  crowns  on  his  head,  a  pierced  side, 
nailed  hands  and  feet  :  if  we  be  parts  of  him, 
can  we  think  that  a  body  finding  nothing  but 
ease,  and  bathing  in  delights,  can  agree  to  a 
head  so  tormented  ?  I  reinember  what  that 
pious  duke  said  at  Jerusalem,  when  they 
offered  to  crown  him  king  there.  Nolo  au- 
ream,  ubi  Christus  spineam :  No  crown  of 
gold,  where  Christ  Jesus  was  crowned  with 
thorns. 

This  is  the  way  we  must  follow,  or  else 
resolve  to  leave  him  ;  the  way  of  the  cross  is 
the  royal  way  to  the  crown.  He  said  it,  and 
reminded  them  of  it  again,  that  they  might 
take  the  deep  impression  of  it :  Remember 
what  J  said  vnto  you,  the  servant  is  not  great- 
er than  the  Lord.  If  they  hare  persecvted 
me,  they  will  also  persecute  you  :  if  they  have 
kept  my  saying,  they  will  keep  yours  also. 
John  XV.  20.  And  particularly  in  point  of 
reproaches :  Jf  they  have  called  the  master 
Beelzebub,  hoiv  much  more  shall  they  call 
them  of  his  household  ?  Matt.  x.  24.  A  bit- 
ter scofT,  an  evil  name,  reproaches  for  Christ, 
why  do  these  fret  thee?  They  were  a  pari 
of  thy  Lord's  entertainment  while  he  was 
here.  Thou  art,  even  in  this,  a  partaker  oj 
his  sufferings,  and  in  this  way  is  he  bringing 
thee  forward  to  the  partaking  of  his  glory. 
That  is  the  other  thing. 

When  his  glory  shall  bs  revealed.]  Now 
that  he  is  hidden,  little  of  his  glory  is  seen.  It 
was  hidden  while  he  was  on  earth,  and  now 
it  is  hidden  in  heaven,  where  he  is.  And  as 
for  his  body  here,  his  church,  it  hath  no 
pompous  dress,  nor  outward  splendor  ;  and 
the  particular  parts  of  it,  the  saints,  are  poor 
despised  creatures,  the  very  refuse  of  men  in 
outward  respects  and  common  esteem.  So 
he  himself  is  not  seen,  and  his  followers,  the 
more  they  are  seen  and  looked  on  by  the 
world's  eye,  the  more  meanness  appears. 
True,  as  in  the  days  of  his  huiniliation  some 
ray«  were  breaking  forth  through  the  veil  of 
his  flesh  and  the  cloud  of  his  low  v.t  spicable 
condition,  thus  it  is  sometimes  with  iiis  fol- 
lowers: a  glanco  of  his  image  strikes  the 
very  eye  of  the  world,  and  forces  some  ac- 
knowledgment   nd  a  kind  of  reverence  in 


Vkr.  12,  13.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


317 


the  uiigodly  ;  but,  commonly,  Christ  a  id  his 
followers  are  covered  with  all  the  disgraces 
and  igiiominies  tho  world  can  put  on  them. 
Bat  there  is  a  day  wherein  he  will  appear, 
and  it  is  at  hand  ;  and  then  he  shall  be  glori- 
ous, even  ui  his  despised  saints,  and  admired 
in  them  that  believe,  2  Thess.  i.  10  :  how 
much  more  in  the  matchless  brightness  of 
his  own  glorious  person  ! 

In  tlie  mean  time,  he  is  hidden,  and  they 
are  hidden  in  him  ;  Our  life  ishidwith  Christ 
tn  God.  Col.  iii.  3.  The  world  sees  nothing 
of  his  glory  and  beauty,  and  even  his  own 
see  noi  much  ;  they  have  but  a  little  glimmer- 
ing of  him,  and  of  their  own  happiness  in 
him  ;  know  little  of  their  own  high  condition, 
'\iul  what  they  are  born  to.  But  in  that  bright 
Jay,  he  shall  shine  forth  in  his  royal  dignity, 
and  every  ei/e  shall  see  Ai/n,  and  be  overcome 
wiih  his  splendor.  Terrible  shall  it  be  to 
'hose  tiiat  formerly  despised  him  and  his 
saints,  but  lo  them  it  shall  be  the  gladdest 
day  that  ever  arose  upon  them,  a  day  that 
shall  never  set  or  be  benighted  ;  the  day  they 
so  much  longed  and  looked  out  for,  the  full 
accomplishment  of  all  their  hopes  and  desires. 
Oh,  huw  dark  were  all  our  days  without  the 
hope  of  this  day  ! 

Then,  says  the  apostle,  ye  shall  rejoice  with 
exceeding  ;V()/ ;  and  to  the  end  you  may  not 
fall  short  of  that  joy  in  the  participation  of 
glory,  fall  not  back  from  a  cheerful  progress 
in  the  communion  of  those  sufferings  ihat  are 
so  closely  linked  with  it,  and  will  so  surely 
lead  unto  it,  and  end  in  it.  For  in  this  the 
apostle's  expressions,  this  glory  and  joy  is  set 
before  them,  as  the  great  matter  of  their  de- 
sires and  hopes,  and  the  certain  end  of  their 
present  sufferings. 

Now,  upon  these  grounds,  the  admonition 
will  ap|)ear  reasonable,  and  not  too  great  a 
demand,  to  rejoice  even  in  sufferiri'^s. 

]\  is  true,  that  passage  in  ttic  epistle  to  the 
He.,  ews,  ch.  xii.  1 1, opposes  present  affliction 
to  joy.  But,  1st,  If  you  mark,  it  is  but  in  the 
appearance,  or  outward  visage,  It  seemeth  not 
':  be  matter  of  joy,  hut  of  irrief.  To  look 
jpon,  it  hath  noi  a  smiling  countenance;  yet 
ioy  m:iy  be  under  it.  And,  2.  Though  to  the 
liesli  it  is  what  it  seems,  grief,  and  not  joy, 
yet  there  may  be  under  it  spiritual  joy  ;  yea, 
the  affliction  itself  may  help  and  advance  that 
|oy.  3.  Through  the  natural  sense  of  it,  there 
will  be  some  alloy  or  mixture  of  grief,  so  that 
the  joy  can  not  be  pure  and  complete,  but  yet 
there  may  be  joy  even  in  it.  This  the  apostle 
here  clearly  grants:  Rejoice  now  in  suffering 
that  you  may  rejoice  exceedinsrly  after  it, 
ayn^Sii^tin.,,!,  leupinc^  for  joy.  Doubtless,  this 
oy,  at  present,  is  but  a  little  parcel,  a  drop 
of  that  sea  of  joy.  Now  it  is  joy,  but  more  is 
reserved.  Tnm,  they  shall  leap  for  joy.  Yet 
even  at  present,  rejoice  in  trial,  yea,  in  fiery 
trial.  Tbis  may  be  done.  The  children  of 
Crod  are  not  called  to  so  sad  a  life  as  the  world 
imagines  :  besides  what  is  laid  up  for  jhem  in 
heaven,  they  have  even  here,  their  rejoicings 


and  songs  in  their  di.^tresses,  as  those  prison- 
ers had  their  psalms  even  at  midnight,  after 
their  stripes,  and  in  their  chains,  before  they 
know  of  a  sudden  deliverance.  (Acts  xvi.  25.) 
True,  there  may  be  a  darkness  within,  clnud- 
ing  all  the  matter  of  their  joy,  but  even  that 
darkness  is  the  seed-time  of  after-joy :  light 
is  sown  in  that  darkness,  and  shall  spring  up  ; 
and  not  only  shall  they  have  a  rich  crop  at 
full  harvest,  but  even  some  first-fruits  of  it 
here,  in  pledge  of  the  harvest. 

And  this  they  ought  to  expect,  and  to  seek 
after  with  minds  humble  and  submissive  as 
to  the  measure  and  time  of  it,  that  they  may 
be  partakers  of  spiritual  joy,  and  may  by  it 
be  enabled  to  go  patiently,  yea,  cheerfully, 
through  the  tribulations  and  tem])tations  that 
lie  in  their  way  homeward.  And  for  this  end 
they  ought  to  endeavor  after  a  more  clear  dis- 
cerning of  their  interest  in  Christ,  that  they 
may  know  they  partake  of  him,  and  so  that, 
in  suffering,  they  are  partakers  of  his  suffer- 
mgs  and  shall  be  partakers  of  his  glory. 

Many  afflictions  will  not  cloud  and  obstruct 
this,  so  much  as  one  sin ;  therefore,  if  ye  would 
walk  cheerfully,  be  most  careful  to  walk  holily. 
All  the  winds  about  the  earth  make  not  an 
earthquake,  but  only  that  within. 

Now  this  Joy  is  grounded  on  ihis  commu- 
nion [1]  in  sulferings,  then,  [2]  in  glory. 

[l.  |  Even  in  sufferings  themselves.  It  is  a 
sweet,  a  joy/'ul  thing  to  be  a  sharer  with  Christ 
in  .anything.  All  enjoyments  wherein  he  is 
not,  are  hitler  to  a  soul  that  loves  him,  and 
all  sufferings  with  him  are  sweet.  The  worst 
things  of  Christ  are  more  truly  delightful  than 
the  best  thing  of  the  world;  his  aliliciions  are 
sweeter  than  their  pleasures,  his  reproach 
more  glorious  than  their  honors,  and  more 
rich  than  their  treasures,  as  Moses  accounted 
them.  Heb.  xi.  26.  Love  delights  in  likeness 
and  communion,  not  only  in  things  otherwise 
jileasant,  but  in  the  hardest  and  harshest 
things,  which  have  not  anything  in  them 
desirable,  but  only  that  likeness.  So  that 
this  thought  is  very  sweet  to  a  heart  posses- 
sed with  this  love :  what  does  the  world  by 
its  hatred,  and  persecutions,  and  revilings  for 
the  sake  of  Christ,  but  make  me  more  like 
him,  give  me  a  greater  share  with  him,  in 
that  which  he  did  so  willingly  undergo  for 
me  ?  When  he  was  soui(ht  for  to  he  made  a 
king,  as  St.  Bernard  remarks.  He  escaped 
but  when  he  was  sought  to  be  brought  lo  the 
^  cross,  he  freely  yielded  himself.  And  shall  1 
j  shrink  and  creep  back  from  what  he  calls  me 
to  suffer  for  his  sake  !  Yea,  even  all  my  other 
troubles  and  sufferings,  I  will  desire  to  have 
stamped  thus,  with  this  conformity  to  the 
I  sufferings  of  Christ,  in  the  humble,  obedient, 
cheerful  endurance  of  them,  and  the  giving 
up  my  will  to  my  Father's. 

The  foUownig  of  Christ  makes  any  way 
pleasant.  His  faithful  followers  refuse  no 
march  after  him,  be  it  through  deserts,  and 
mountains,  and  storms,  and  hazards,  that  will 
affright  self-pleasing,  easy  spirits.  Hearts 


318 


A  COMMENTARV  UPON  THE 


[CiiAF.  r\., 


kinJled  Riul  actiiatcd  with  the  Spirit  of  Christ, 
will  l'ii//(iir  /li/n  ir/irre.tncrcr  he.  iioi'//i. 

As  he  speaks  it  for  wariiinsj  to  his  disciples, 
Ifrfifi/  prrsenilcfl  me,  thcij  irill  pprseculc  you, 
so  he  speaks  it  for  comfort  to  them,  and  suffi- 
cient comfort  it  is.  If  thci/  h/itc  i/ou,  thry  hated 
mc  hcforr  you.    John  xv.  18,  20. 

[2.]  Then  add  the  other:  see  whither  it 
•ends.  Ilr  shall  he  'ei  enlrd  in  his  glory,  and 
ye  shall  even  overflow  witli  joy  in  the  par- 
taking of  that  glory.  Therefore,  rejoice  now 
in  the  midst  of  all  your  sufferings.  Stand 
upon  the  advanced  ground  of  the  promises 
and  the  covenant  of  grace,  and  by  faith  look 
beyond  this  moment,  and  all  that  is  in  it,  to 
that  day  wherein  ererlastini^jo  i/  shall  he  upon 
your  heads,  a  crown  of  it,  and  sfirroie  and 
mourninj:  shall  fee  away,  Isa.  li.  11.  Relieve 
in  this  day,  and  the  victory  is  won.  Oh  I  that 
blessed  hope,  well  fixed  and  exercised,  would 
give  other  manner  of  spirits.  What  zeal  for 
iiod  would  it  not  inspire!  What  invincible 
courage  against  all  encounters!  How  soon 
will  this  pageant  of  the  world  vanish,  that 
men  are  gazlna;  on,  these  pictures  and  fancies 
of  pleasures  and  honors,  falselv  so  called,  and 
give  place  to  the  real  glory  of  the  sons  of  God, 
when  this  blessed  Son,  who  is  God,  shall  be 
seen  appearing  in  full  majesty,  and  all  his 
brethren  in  glory  with  him,  all  clothed  in 
their  robes  !  And  if  you  ask,  who  are  they, 
why,  these  are  they  who  came  out  of  great 
Iribvlalion,  and  have  trashed  their  robes  in 
the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  Rev.  vii.  14. 

Ver.  14.  If  ye  be  re]iroaclie(I  for  the  name  of  Christ, 

haj)))y  are  ye  •  for  tlie  Spirit  of  slory  anil  of  C.od 

reslcth  upon  you  ;  on  tlioir  part  lie  is  evil  spoken 

of,  but  on  your  part  he  is  glorified. 
Ver.  15.  But  let  none  of  you  suffer  as  a  murderer,  or 

as  a  thief,  or  as  an  evil-doer,  or  as  a  busy-body  in 

other  men's  matters. 
Ver.  16.  Yet,  if  any  man  suffer  as  a  Christian,  let 

him  not  be  ashamed  ;  but  let  him  glorify  Cod  on 

this  behalf. 

The  V"ord  is  the  Christian's  magazine, 
both  of  invtructions  and  of  encouragements, 
whether  for  doing  or  for  suffering  ;  and  this 
epistle  is  rich  in  both.  Here,  what  the  apos- 
tle had  said  concerning  suffering  in  general, 
he  specifies  in  the  particular  case  of  suffer- 
ing reproaches.  But  this  seems  not  to  come 
up  to  the  heiffht  of  that  expression  which 
he  hath  used  before  :  he  spoke  of  fiery  trial, 
but  this  of  reproach  seems  rather  fit  to  be 
called  an  airy  trial,  the  blast  of  vanishing 
words.  Yet,  upon  trial,  it  will  be  found  to 
be  (as  here  it  is  accounted)  a  very  sharp,  a 
fiery  trial. 

First,  then,  of  this  particular  kind  of  suf- 
fering ;  and  secondly,  of  the  comfort  and  ad- 
V'ce  furnished  against  it. 

If  ye  be  reproached.]  If  we  consider  both 
iiic  nature  of  the  thinir  and  the  strain  of  the 
Scriptures,  we  shall  find  that  reproaches  are 
among  the  sharpest  sort  of  sufferings,  and 
are  indeed  //pry  t-ials.  The  tongue  is  a  fire, 
^ays  St.  James,  and  reproaches  are  the  flash- 
es of  that  fire  ;  they  are  a  subtle  kind  of 


flame,  like  that  lightning  which,  as  natural- 
ists say,  crushcth  ;he  lK)nes,  and  -et  breaks 
not  the  fiesh  :  they  wound  not  the  body,  a! 
do  toriures  and  whips,  but  throu<rh  a  whole 
skin  ihey  reach  the  sjiirit  of  a  man.  and  cut 
it.  So  Psalm  xlii.  10:  As  ttilh  a  sword  in 
my  bones,  mine  enemies  reproach  me.  The 
fire  of  reproaches  preys  upon  and  dries  up 
the  precious  ointment  of  a  ;'ooc/  name,  to  use 
Solomon's  com])arison,  Eccl.  vii.  4.  A  good 
name  is  in  itself  good,  a  prime  outward  good  ; 
and  take  us  according  to  our  natural  temper 
and  apprehensions  (according  to  which  we 
feel  things),  most  men  are,  and  some  exces- 
sively, too  tender  and  delicate  in  it.  Although, 
truly,  I  take  it  rather  to  be  a  weakness  than 
true  greatness  of  spirit,  as  many  fancy  it,  to 
depend  much  on  the  opinion  of  others,  and 
to  feel  it  deeply,  yet.  I  say,  considering  that 
it  is  commonly  thus  with  men.  and  that  there 
are  the  remains  of  this,  as  of  other  frailties 
in  the  children  of  God,  it  can  not  well  be 
but  reproaches  will  ordinarily  much  afflict 
men,  and  to  some  kind  of  spirits,  possibly,  be 
more  grievous  than  great  bodily  pain  or  suf- 
fering. 

And  inasmuch  as  they  are  thus  grievous, 
the  Scripture  accounts  them  so,  and  very 
usually  reckons  them  among  sufferings:  it  is 
apt  to  name  them  more  than  anv  other  kind 
of  suffering,  and  that  with  good  reason,  not 
only  for  iheir  piercing  nature  (as  we  have 
said),  but  withal  for  their  frequency  and  mul- 
titude :  and  some  things  we  suffer  do,  as  flies, 
more  trouble  by  their  number  than  by  their 
weight. 

Now, there  is  nooue  kind  of  suffering. of  such 
constancy  and  commonness,  and  abundance, 
as  reproaches  are.  When  other  persecutions 
cease,  yet  these  continue  :  when  all  other  fires 
of  martyrdom  are  put  out,  these  burn  still.  In 
all  times  and  places,  the  malignant  world  is 
ready  to  revile  religion  :  not  only  avowed 
enemies  of  it,  hut  the  greatest  part  even  (jf 
those  that  make  a  vulgar  profession  of  it  • 
they  that  outwardly  receive  the  form  of  re- 
ligion, are  yet,  many  of  them,  inwardiv  ha- 
ters of  the  power  of  it.  and  Christians  wno 

'  are  such  merely  in  name,  will  scorn  and  re- 
proach those  that  are  Christians  indeed. 

[     And  this  is  done  with  such  ease  by  evry 

[one,  that  these  arrows  fly  thick:  every  one 
that  hath  a  tongue  can  shoot  them,  even  base 
objects  (Psalm  xxxv.  15)  :  and  the  drunkards 
make  songs,  as  Jeremiah  complains.  The 
meanest  sort  can  reach  this  point  of  perse- 

i  cution,  and  be  active  in  it  against  the  chil- 
dren of  God.  They  who  can  not,  or  dare 
not  ofl'er  them  any  other  injury,  will  not  fear, 
nor  spare,  to  let  fiy  a  taunt  or  bitter  word. 
So  that  whereas  other  sufi^erings  are  rarer, 
these  meet  them  daily  : — While  they  sm/  dai- 
ly untome.  Where  is  thy  God  ?  Psal.  xlii.  10. 

We  see,  then,  how  justly  reproaches  are 
often  mentioned  among  and  beyond  other 
trials,  and  accounted  persecution.  See  Matt, 
V.  10,  11 :  Blessed  are  ye  when  men  shall  re« 


Vek.  14—16.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


319 


vile  you,  and  pe^  ;ecute  you,  and  shall  say  all 
iTii^nner  of  evil  against  you  falsely,  for  my 
sake.  In  the  history  of  the  casting  out  of 
Hagar  and  her  son,  Gen.  xxi.  9,  all  we  find 
laid  to  Ishmael's  charge  is,  Sarah  saw  Mm 
mocking.  And  as  he  that  was  born  after  the 
flesh  did  t.ien,  in  this  manner,  fc  gecute  him 
that  was  born  after  the  Spirit  (Gal.  iv.  29), 
even  so  it  is  now.  And  thus  are  reproaches 
mentioned  among  the  sufferings  of  Christ  in 
the  gospel,  and  not  as  the  least:  the  railings 
and  mockings  thai  were  darted  at  him,  and 
fixed  to  the  Cross,  are  mentioned  more  than 
the  very  nails  that  fixed  him.  And  so,  He- 
brews xii.  2,  the  shame  of  the  cross :  though 
he  was  above  it  and  despised  it,  yet  that  shame 
added  much  to  the  burden  of  it.  So,  verse  3 : 
Consider  him  who  endured  the  contradiction 
of  sinners. 

Now  the  other  thing  is,  that  this  is  the  lot 
of  Christians,  as  it  was  of  Christ.  And  why 
should  they  look  for  more  kindness  and  bet- 
ter usage,  and  think  to  find  acclamations  and 
applauses  from  the  world,  which  so  vilified 
iheir  Lord  ?  Oh,  no  !  The  vain  heart  must 
be  weaned  from  these,  to  follow  Christ.  If 
we  will  indeed  follow  him,  it  must  be  tamed 
to  share  with  him  in  this  point  of  suffering, 
not  only  mistakes  and  misconstructions,  but 
bitter  scoffings  and  reproaches.  Why  should 
not  our  minds  ply  and  fold  to  this  upon  that 
very  reason  which  he  so  reasonably  presses 
again  and  again  on  his  disciples  ?  The  ser- 
C'lnl  is  not  greater  than  his  master.  And,  in 
reference  to  this  very  thing,  he  adds:  If  iheij 
have  called  the  Master,  Beelichuli,  how  muck 
more  will  ihey  speak  so  of  his  servants.  iVIatt. 
X.  24,  25. 

Infer.  1.  Seeing  it  is  thus,  I  shall  first  press 
upon  the  followers  of  Christ  the  apostle's  rule 
here,  to  keep  their  suffering  spotless,  that  it 
may  not  be  comfortless.  Resolve  to  endure 
it,  but  resolve  liUewise  that  it  shall  be  on  your 
part  innocent  suflering.  Suffer  not  as  evil- 
doers. Besides  that  the  ways  of  wickedness^ 
are  most  unsuitable  to  your  hr,ly  calling,  look 
to  the  enmity  about  you,  and  gain  even  out 
of  that  evil,  this  great  good  of  more  circum- 
spect and  holy  walking.  Recollect  who  you 
are,  and  where  you  are,  your  own  weakness, 
and  the  world's  wickedness.  This  our  Savior 
represents,  and  upon  it  gives  that  suitable 
rule  :  Behold,  I  send  you  forth  as  sheep  in  the 
mi'lst  of  wolves  ;  he  ye  therefore  wise  as  ser- 
pents, and  h'lrmh.ss  as  doves. — Prudens  sim- 
flicitas.  Know  you  not  what  exact  eyes  of 
others  are  upon  you?  Will  you  not  thence 
learn  exactly  lo  eye  yourselves  and  all  your 
ways,  and  seek  of  God,  with  David,  to  he  led 
ir^  riishleousness,  he.cause  of  your  enemies, 
your  ohservrs  f  Psalm  xxvii.  11. 

Tills  is  tlie  rule  here  :  verse  16.  Suffer  as 
Christians  boldly  and  blamelessly,  that  the 
enemy  may  not  know  where  to  ftisieii  his 
hold.  As  the  wrestlers  anointed  their  bndics, 
that  the  hands  of  1  heir  antagonists  might  not 
fasten  upon  thftn,  thus,  truly  they  that  walk 


and  suffer  as  Christians  anointed  with  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  their  enemies  can  not  well 
fasten  their  hold  upon  them. 

To  you,  therefore,  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus, 
I  recommend  this  especially  to  be  careful 
that  all  your  reproaches  may  be  indeed  for 
Christ,  and  not  for  anything  in  you  unlike  to 
Christ :  that  there  be  nothing  save  the  matter 
of  your  rod.  Keep  the  quarrel  as  clean  and 
unmixed  as  you  can,  and  this  will  advantage 
you  much,  both  within  and  without,  in  the 
peace  and  firmness  of  your  minds,  and  in  the 
refutation  of  your  enemies.  This  will  make 
you  as  a  brazen  wall,  as  the  Lord  speaks  to 
the  prophet :  they  shall  fight  against  you,  but 
shall  not  prevail.  Jer.  xv.  20. 

Keep  far  off  from  all  impure,  unholy  ways. 
Suffer  not  as  evil-doers,  no,  nor  as  busy-bodies. 
Be  much  at  home,  setting  things  at  rights 
within  your  own  breast,  where  there  is  so 
much  work,  and  such  daily  need  of  diligence, 
and  then  you  will  find  no  leisure  for  unneces- 
sary idle  pryings  into  the  ways  and  affairs  of 
others  ;  and  further  than  your  calling  and  the 
rules  of  Christian  charity  engage  you,  you 
will  not  interpose  in  any  matters  without  you, 
nor  be  found  proud  and  censorious,  as  the 
world  is  ready  to  call  you. 

Shun  the  appearances  of  evil  ;  walk  warily 
and  prudently  in  all  things.  Be  not  heady, 
nor  self-willed,  no,  not  in  the  best  thing. 
Walk  not  upon  the  utter  brink  and  hedge  of 
your  liberty,  for  then  you  shall  be  in  danger 
of  overpassing  it.  Things  that  are  lawful 
may  be  inexpedient,  and,  in  case  there  is  fear 
of  scaiubil,  ought  cither  to  be  wholly  forborne, 
or  used  with  much  prudence  and  circumspec 
tion.  Oh,  study  in  all  things  to  adorn  the 
gospel,  and  under  a  sense  of  your  own  unskil- 
fulness  and  folly,  beg  wisdom  from  abovp, 
that  anointing  thai  will  teach  you  all  things, 
much  of  that  holy  Spirit,  that  will  lead  you 
in  the  tvay  of  all  truth  ;  and  then,  in  that  way, 
whatsoever  may  befall  you, si/]Jer  it, and  how- 
ever you  may  be  vilified  and  reproached,  hap- 
py are  ye,  for  the  Spirit  of  glory  and  of  God 
rcsteth  upon  i/ou. 

Inf.  2.  But  if  to  be  thus  reproached  is  to  be 
happy,  then,  certainly,  their  reproacliers  are 
not  less  unhappy.  If  on  those  resieih  the 
Spirit  of  glory  and  of  (iod,  what  spirit  is  in 
these,  but  the  spirit  of  Satan,  and  of  shame 
and  vileness  ?  Who  is  the  basest,  most  con- 
temptible kind  of  person  in  the  world?  Tru- 
ly, I  think,  an  avowed  conlerimer  and  mocker 
of  holiness.  Shall  atiy  sucji  be  found  amonu:  us? 

I  charge  you  all  in  this  name  of  Christ,  that 
you  do  not  entertain  gcjdiess  prejudices  against 
the  people  of  God.  Let  not  your  ears  be  open 
to,  nor  your  hearts  close  with  the  calumnies 
and  lies  that  may  be  flying  abroad  of  thetii 
and  their  practices  ;  much  less  open  yotit 
mouths  against  them,  or  let  any  dis<,'raceful 
word  b(!  heard  from  you.  And  when  you 
meet  with  undeniable  real  frailties,  know  the 
laiv  of  /o(v,  and  to  practise  ii.  Tiiink,  "  This 
is  blameworthy,  yet  let  me  not  turn  it  to  the 


320 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  FV. 


reproach  of  those  persoris,  who,  noiwithstand- 
iii;;,  may  siiici-rt',  iiuicli  less  to  the  reproach 
of  oilier  persons  professing  religion,  aud  then 
cast  it  upon  relij;ion  itself." 

My  hreihren,  beware  of  sharing  with  the 
ungodly  in  this  tongue-persecution  of  Chris- 
tians. There  is  a  day  at  hand,  wherein  the 
Lord  will  make  inquiry  after  these  things. 
If  we  shall  be  made  accountable  for  idle 
words  (as  we  are  warned.  Matt.  xii.  36),  how 
much  more  for  bitter  malicious  words  uttered 
against  any,  especially  against  the  saints  of 
God,  whom,  however  the  world  may  reckon, 
he  esteems  bis  precious  ones,  his  treasure! 
You  that  now  can  look  on  them  with  a  scorn- 
ful eye,  which  way  shall  you  look  when  they 
shall  be  beautiful  an<d  glorious,  and  all  the 
ungodly  clothed  with  shame  ?  Oh,  do  not  re- 
proach them,  buC  rather  come  in  and  share 
with  them  in  the  way  of  holiness,  and  in  all 
the  sufferings  and  reprcjaches  that  follow  it  ; 
for  if  you  partake  of  ibeir  disgrace,  you  shall 
share  in  glory  with  them,  in  the  day  of  their 
Lord's  appearing. 

The  words  contain  two  things,  the  evil  of 
these  reproaches  supposed,  and  the  good  ex- 
pressed.   The  evil  supposed,  that  they  are  ; 
trials,  and  hot  trials,  has  been  treated  of  al- 
ready.   Now  as  to  the  good  expressed. 

Hnp-py  are  i/e.]  Ye  are  happy  even  at  pres- 
ent, in  the  very  midst  of  them  ;  they  do  not 
trouble  your  happy  estate,  yea,  they  advance 
it.  Thus  solid,  indeed,  is  the  happiness  of 
the  saints,  that  in  the  lowest  condition  it  re- 
mains the  same  :  in  diso-raccs,  in  caves,  in 
prisons  and  chains,  cast  them  where  you  will, 
still  they  are  happy.  A  diamond  in  the  mire, 
sullied  and  trampled  on,  yet  still  retains  its 
own  worth.  But  this  is  more,  that  the  very 
things  that  seem  to  make  them  miserable,  do 
not  only  not  do  that,  but,  on  the  contrary,  do 
make  them  the  more  happy  :  they  are  gainers 
by  their  losses,  and  attain  more  liberty  by  [ 
their  thraldoms,  and  more  honor  by  their  dis- 
graces, and  more  peace  by  their  troubles.  The 
world  and  all  their  enemies  are  exceedingly 
befooled  in  striving  against  them  :  not  onlv 
can  they  not  undo  them,  but  by  all  their  en-  i 
mity  and  practices,  they  do  them  pleasure, 
and  raise  them  higher.  With  what  weapons 
shall  they  fight  ?  How  shall  a  Christian's  en- 
emies set  upon  him?  Where  shall  they  hit 
him,  seeing  that  all  the  wrongs  they  do  him, 
do  indeed  enrich  and  ennoble  him,  and  that 
the  more  he  is  depressed,  he  flourishes  the 
more.  Certainly,  thg  blessedness  of  a  Chris- 
tian is  matchless  and  invincible. 

But  how  holds  this,  that  a  Christian  is  ha p- 
py  in  reproaches  and  by  them  ?  It  is  not 
through  ibeir  nature  and  virtue,  for  they  are 
evil  (so  Malt.  v.  11)  ;  but  first,  by  reason  of 
the  cause  ;  secondly,  by  reason  of  the  accom- 
panying and  consequent  comfort. 

[1.]  By  reason  of  the  cauxe  of  these  re- 
proaches. This  we  have  negatively  at  verse 
15.  Not  as  an  evil-doer  ;  that  stains  thy  holy 
profession,  damps  thy  comfort,  and  clouds  thy 


happiness,  disprofits  thee,  ana  dishonors  thy 
Lord.  But  the  cause  is  staled  posi lively ,  ver. 
14,  16 — for  thejuiine  of  Christ.  And  what  is 
there  so  rough  which  that  will  not  make 
plf-asant,  to  sutler  with  Christ  and  for  Cbrisl, 
who  suffered  so  much  and  so  willinirlv  for 
thee?  Hath  he  not  gone  through  all  before 
thee,  and  made  all  easy  and  lovely  ?  Ilaib  he 
not  sweelened  poverty,  and  peiseculion,  and 
hatred,  and  disgraces,  and  death  itself,  [ler- 
fumed  the  grave,  and  turned  it  from  a  pit  of 
horror  into  a  sweet  resting-hed  ?  And  thus 
love  of  Christ  judgeili  :  it  thinks  all  lovely 
which  is  endured  for  him,  is  glad  to  meet  with 
difficulties,  and  is  ambitious  of  suffering  for 
him.  Scorn  or  contempt  is  a  thing  of  bard 
digestion,  but  much  inward  heat  of  love  di- 
gests it  easily.  Reproaches  arc  bitter,  but 
the  reproaches  of  Christ  are  sweet.  Take 
their  true  value,  Heb.  xi.  26  :  The  reproaches 
of  Christ  are  greater  nchrs  than  th"  treasures 
of  Egypt :  his  very  worst  things,  better  than 
the  best  of  the  world.  A  louch  of  Christ  turns 
all  mto  gold  :  bis  reproaches  are  riches,  as  it 
is  expressed  there,  and  honor,  as  here.  Hap- 
py .'  Not  only  afterward  shall  ye  be  happy, 
but  happi/  are  ye  at  i)resent  ;  and  that,  not 
only  in  apprehension  of  that  afler-'.iappiness, 
as  sure,  and  as  already  present  to  faith  reali- 
zing it,  but  even  [2j  in  that  they  now  possess 
the  presence  and  comforts  of  the  Spirit. 

For  the  spirit  of  glon/.^  This  accompanies 
disgraces  for  him  :  his  Spirii,  the  Spirit  of 
glory  and  of  (rod.  With  your  sufferings 
goes  the  name  'ot'  Christ,  and  the  Spirit  of 
Christ"  take  them  thus,  when  rejiroaches  are 
cast  upon  you  for  his  name,  and  you  are  ena- 
bled to  bear  them  by  bis  Spirit.  And  surely 
his  Spirit  is  most  fit  to  support  you  under 
them,  yea,  to  raise  you  above  them.  They 
are  ignominious  and  inglorious,  he  is  the  Spir- 
it o-f  glory;  they  are  human  reproaches  ;  he, 
the  Divine  Spirit,  the  Spirit  of  slory  and  of 
God,  that  is,  the  glorious  Spirit  of  God. 

And  this  is  the  advantage:  the  less  the 
Christian  finds  esteem  and  acceptance  in  the 
world,  the  more  he  turns  his  eye  inward,  to 
see  what  is  there ;  and  there  he  finds  the 
world's  contempt  counterpoised  by  a  weight 
of  excellency  and  glory,  even  in  this  present 
condition,  as  the  pledge  of  the  ijlory  before 
him.  The  reproaches  be  fiery  :  but  the  Spirit 
of  glory  resteth  upon  you,  doth  not  give  you 
a  passing  visit,  but  stays  within  you,  and  is 
indeed  yours.  And  in  this  the  Christian  can 
take  comfort,  and  lei  the  foul  weather  blow 
over,  let  all  the  scoffs  and  contempts  abroad 
pass  as  they  come,  having  a  glorious  Spirit 
within,  such  a  guest  hr<r\oring  him  with  his 
presence,  abode,  dud  sweet  fellowship,  being 
indeed  one  with  him.  So  that  rich  miser  at 
Athens  could  say — when  they  scorned  him  in 
the  streets,  he  went  home  to  his  bags,  and 
hugging  himself  there  at  the  sight,  let  them 
say  what  they  would  : — 

 "  Populus  me  sibilat  :  at  mihi  plaudo 

Ipse  domi,  simul  ac  iiummoscouteiiiplor  in  irca." 


Van.    t— 16.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


321 


Ho-«'  much  more  reasonably  may  the  Chris- 
tian say,  "  Let  them  revile  and  bark,  I  have 
riches  and  honor  enough  that  they  see  not." 
And  this  is  what  maizes  the  world,  as  they 
are  a  malicious  party,  so  to  be  an  incompe- 
tent judge  of  the  Christian's  estate.  They 
see  the  rugged  unpleasant  outside  only:  the 
right  inside  their  eye  can  not  reach.  We 
were  miserable  indeed,  were  our  comforts 
such  as  they  could  see. 

And  while  this  is  the  constant  estate  of  a 
Christian,  it  is  usually  mosi  manifested  to 
him  in  the  time  of  his  greatest  sufferings. 
Then  (as  he  said)  he  naturally  turns  inward 
and  sees  it  most,  and  accordingly  finds  it 
most.  God  making  this  happy  supplement 
and  compensation,  that  when  his  people  have 
least  of  the  world,  they  have  most  of  himself ; 
when  they  are  most  covered  with  the  world's 
disfavor,  his  favor  shines  brightest  to  them. 
As  Moses,  when  he  was  in  the  cloud,  had 
nearest  access  and  speech  with  God  ;  so  when 
the  Christian  is  most  clouded  with  distresses 
and  disgraces,  then  doth  the  Lord  often  show 
himself  most  clearly  to  him. 

If  you  be  indeed  Christians,  you  will  not  be 
so  much  thinking,  at  any  time,  how  you  may 
be  free  from  all  sufferings  and  despisings,  but 
rather,  how  you  may  go  strongly  and  cheer- 
fully through  them.  Lo,  here  is  the  way: 
seek  a  real  and  firm  interest  in  Christ,  and  a 
participation  of  Christ's  Spirit,  and  then  a 
look  to  him  will  make  all  easy  and  delight- 
ful. Thou  wilt  be  ashamed  within  thyself  to 
start  back,  or  yield  one  foot,  at  the  encounter 
of  a  taunt  or  reproach  for  him.  Tlmu  wilt 
think,  "  For  whom  is  it  ?  Is  if  not  for  him 
who  for  my  sake  h'd  not  his  face  from  shame 
and  spitting  ?"  And  further,  "  He  died  :  now, 
how  should  I  meet  death  for  him,  who  shrink 
at  the  blast  of  a  scornful  word  ?" 

If  you  would  know  whether  this  his  Spirit 
is  and  resteth  in  you,  it  can  not  be  better 
known  than,  Isf.  By  that  very  love,  ardent 
love  to  him,  and  high  esteem  of  him,  and 
thence  a  willingness,  yea,  a  gladness  to  suffer 
anything  for  him.  2fl.  This  Spirit  of  f^lory 
sets  the  heart  on  glory.  Tr^e  glory  makes 
heavenly  thinffs  excellent  in  our  thoughts, 
and  sets  the  world,  the  better  and  the  worse, 
the  honor  and  the  dishonor  of  it,  at  a  low 
rate. 

The  spirit  of  ihe  world  is  a  base,  ignoble 
spirit,  even  the  hisfhest  pitch  of  it.  Theirs 
are  but  poor  desi^jns  who  are  projecting  for 
kingdoirts,  compared  to  ihose  of  the  Chris- 
tian, which  ascend  above  all  things  under 
the  sun,  and  above  the  sun  itself,  and  there- 
fore he  is  not  shaken  with  the  threats  of  the 
world,  nor  taken  with  its  offers.  Excellent 
is  the  answer  which  St.  Basil  gives,  in  the 
person  of  those  martyrs,  to  that  emperor  who 
made  them  (as  he  thought)  great  proflfers  to 
draw  them  off:  "Why,"'  say  they,  "dost 
thou  bid  us  so  low  as  pieces  of  the  world  ? 
We  have  learned  to  despise  it  all."  This  is 
not  stupidity,  nor  an  affected  stoutness  of  spir- 


it, but  an  humble  sublimity,  which  the  natura' 
spirit  of  a  man  can  not  reach  unto. 

But  wilt  thou  say  still,  "  This  stops  me,  I 
do  not  find  this  Spirit  in  me  :  if  I  did,  then  I 
think  I  could  be  willing  to  suflcr  anything.' 
To  this,  for  the  present,  I  say  not  more  than 
this:  Dost  thou  desire  that  Christ  maybe 
glorified,  and  couldst  thou  be  content  it  were 
by  thy  suffering  in  any  kind  thou  mayest  be 
called  to  undergo  for  him  ?  Art  thou  willing 
to  give  up  thine  own  interest  to  study  and  fol- 
low Christ's,  and  to  sacrifice  thine  own  credit 
and  name  to  advance  his?  Art  thou  unwil- 
ling to  do  anything  that  may  dishonor  him, 
but  not  unwilling  to  suffer  anything  that  mav 
honor  him?  Orwouldst  thou  be  thus?  Then 
be  not  disputing,  but  up  and  walk  on  in  his 
strength. 

Now,  if  any  say,  But  his  name  is  dishon- 
ored by  these  reproaches  —  true,  says  the 
apostle, 'on  their  part  it  is  so,  but  not  on 
yours.  They  that  reproach  you,  do  their 
best  to  make  it  reflect  on  Christ  and  his 
cause,  but  thus  it  is  only  on  their  part.  You 
are  sufferers  for  his  name,  and  so  you  glorify 
it:  your  faith  and  patience,  and  your  victory 
by  these,  do  declare  the  power  of  Divine 
grace,  and  the  efficacy  of  the  gospel.  These 
have  made  torturers  ashamed,  and  induced 
some  beholders  to  share  with  those  who  were 
tortured.  Thus,  though  the  profane  world 
intends,  as  far  as  it  can  reach,  to  fix  dishonor 
upon  the  profession  of  Christ,  yet  it  sticks 
not,  but  on  the  contrary,  he  is  glorified  by 
your  constancy. 

And  as  the  ignominy  fastens  not,  but  the 
glory  from  the  endurance  does,  so  Christians 
are  oblinred,  and  certainly  are  ready,  accord- 
ing to  the  apostle's  zeal,  ver.  16,  lo  glorify 
God  on  this  hehalf,  that,  as  he  is  glorified  in 
them,  so  they  may  glorify  and  bless  him  who 
hath  diarnified  them  so;  t'hat  whereas  we 
might  have  been  left  to  a  sad  sinking  task,  to 
have  suffered  for  various  guilts,  our  God  hath 
changed  the  tenor  and  nature  of  our  suffer- 
ings, and  makes  them  to  be  for  the  name  of 
Christ. 

Thus,  a  spiritual  mind  doth  not  sw(>li  on  a 
conceit  of  constancy  and  coura<re,  wliich  is 
the  readiest  way  of  .«elf-undaing,  but  ac- 
knowledges all  to  be  gift,  even  suffering: 
To  you  it  is  given  not  only  to  hchevn  but  to 
suffer,  and  so  to  bless  him  on  that  behalf. 
Phil.  i.  29.  Oh  !  this  love  grows  in  suffering. 
See  Acts  v.  41.  They  went  away  rejoicing 
that  they  were  counted  worthy  to  suffer  shame 
for  his  name. 

Consider,  it  is  but  a  short  while,  and  the 
wicked  and  their  scoffs  shall  vanish  ;  they 
shall  not  be.  This  shame  will  presently  be 
over,  this  disgrace  is  of  sh(jrt  date,  but  the 
glory,  and  the  Spirit  of  glory,  are  eternal. 
What  though  thou  shouldst  be  poor,  and  de- 
famed, and  despised,  and  be  the  common 
mark  of  scorn  and  all  injuries,  yet  the  end  of' 
them  all  is  al  hand.  Tliis  is  now  thy  part^ 
but  the  scene  shall  be  changed.  Kings  here. 


322 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


IClIAP.  IV. 


real  ones,  are  in  the  deepest  reality  but  staiie 
kinsrs  ;  but  when  ihnu  coniest  to  alter  tlic 
person  thou  now  bearcst,  here  is  tiie  odds: 
thou  wast  a  fool  in  ajj^earance,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment, bui  thou  shah  be  truly  a  king  for  ever. 

Ver.  17.  For  thp  time  is  come,  that  jiulgiiicnt  must 
bo^in  at  tlio  house  of  (Jod  :  and  if  it  tirst  hrgin  at 
■as,  wlmt  sliall  tlie  end  be  of  them  that  obey  not  the 
gosjicl  of  (led. 

There  is  not  only  perfect  equity,  but  withal 
a  comely  proijortion  and  beauty  in  all  llie 
ways  of  God,  had  we  eyes  open  to  discern 
them,  particularly  in  this  point  of  the  suffer- 
ings and  alllictions  of  the  church.  The  apos- 
tle here  sets  it  before  his  brethren,  For  the 
lime  is  Come,  &c.  In  which  words,  there  is, 
\st.  A  parallel  of  the  Lord's  dealing  with  his 
own  and  with  the  wicked.  2(i.  A  persuasion 
to  due  compliance  and  contidence,  on  the  part 
of  his  own,  upon  that  consideration. 

The  parallel  is  in  the  order  and  The  meas- 
UT"  of  punishins  ;  and  it  is  so  that,  for  the 
order,  it  begins  at  the  house  of  God,  and  ends 
upon  the  ungodly.  And  that  carries  with  it 
this  great  difference  in  the  measure,  that  it 
passes  from  the  one  on  whom  it  begins,  and 
rests  on  the  other  on  whom  it  ends,  and  on 
whom  the  full  weight  of  it  lies  for  ever.  It  is 
so  expressed:  What  shall  the  end  he,  &c.,  which 
imports,  not  only  that  judgment  shall  over- 
take them  in  the  end,  but  that  it  shall  be 
their  end  ;  they  shall  end  in  it,  and  it  shall 
be  endless  upon  them. 

The  time  is.']  Indeed,  the  whole  time  of 
this  present  life  is  so,  is  the  time  of  suffering 
and  ])urifying  for  the  church,  compassed  with  j 
enemies  who  will  afflict  her,  and  subject  to  : 
those  impurities  which  need  affliction.  The 
children  of  God  are  in  their  under-age  here  : 
all  their  time  they  are  children,  and  have 
their  frailties  and  childish  follies  :  and  there- 
fore, though  they  are  not  always  under  the 
stroke  of  the  rod,  for  that  they  were  not  able 
to  endure,  yet  they  are  under  the  discipline 
and  use  of  the  rod  all  their  time.  And  wbere- 
as  the  wicked  escape  till  their  day  of  full 
payment,  ihe  children  of  (xod  are  in  this  life 
chastised  with  frequent  afflictions.  And  so. 
The  time  f  i  »"'  d  |  may  here  be  taken  accord- 
ing as  the  apostle  St.  Paul  oises  'e  same 
word,  Rom.  viii.  18,  -^a'lninir.i  mi  vmKa\o.)v,  The 
sufferings  of  this  present  time. 

But  withal,  it  is  true,  and  appears  to  be 
here  implied,  that  there  are  peculiar  set 
times,  vi'hich  the  Lord  chooses  for  the  cor- 
recting of  his  church.  He  hath  the  days  pre- 
fixed and  written  m  his  Ephemerides,  hath 
his  days  of  correcting,  wherein  he  goes  round 
from  one  church  to  another.  We  thought  it 
Would  never  come  to  us,  but  we  have  now 
found  the  smart  of  it. 

And  here  the  apostle  may  probably  mean 
fie  times  of  those  hot  |)ersecutions  that  were 
then  be2:uu,  and  contin  ed,  though  with  some 
intervals  for  two  or  three  ages.  Thus,  in  the 
sixth  chapter  of  the  Apocalypse,  after  the 
white  horse,  immediately  follow  at  his  heels, 


the  red,  and  the  hlnch,  and  the  pale  horse 
And  as  it  was  upon  the  first  publishing  of  the 
gospel,  so  usually,  upon  the  restoring  of  it,  or 
upon  remarkable  reformations  of  the  ch'irch 
and  revivings  of  religion,  follow  sharp  and 
searching  trials.  As  tin'  lower  cause  of  this 
is  the  rage  and  malice  of  Satan,  and  of  the 
ungodly  world  acted  and  stirred  by  him, 
against  the  purity  and  prevalency  of  religion, 
so  it  is  from  a  higher  hand  for  better  ends. 
The  Lord  will  discover  the  multitudes  of 
hypocrites  and  empty  professors,  who  will  at 
such  a  time  readily  aboinul,  when  religion  is 
upon  an  advancing  way,  and  the  stream  of  it 
runs  strong.  Now,  by  the  counter-current  of 
troubles,  such  fall  back  and  are  carried  away. 
And  the  truth  of  grace,  in  the  hearts  of  be- 
lievers, receives  advantage  from  these  haz- 
ards and  suli'crings ;  they  are  put  to  fasten 
their  hold  the  better  on  Christ,  to  seek  more 
experience  of  the  real  and  sweet  consolations 
of  ihe  gospel,  which  may  uphold  them  against 
the  counter-blasts  of  suffering.  Thus  is  reli- 
gion made  a  more  real  and  solid  thing  in  the 
hearts  of  true  believers:  they  are  entered  to 
that  way  of  receiving  Christ  and  his  cross 
together,  that  they  may  see  their  bargain, 
and  not  think  it  a  surprise. 

Judgment.]  Though  all  her  sufferings  arenot 
such,  yet  commonly,  there  is  that  unsuitable 
and  unwary  walking  among  Christians,  that 
even  their  sufferings  for  the  cause  of  God, 
though  unjust  from  men,  are  from  God  just 
punishments  of  their  miscarriages  toward 
him,  in  their  former  ways;  their  self-pleas- 
ing and  earthliness  having  too  hiffh  a  relish* 
for  the  delights  of  this  world,  forgetting  their 
inheritance  and  hoine,  and  conforming  them- 
selves to  the  world,  walking  too  much  like  it. 

Must  begin.]  The  church  of  God  is  pun- 
ished, while  the  wicked  are  free  and  flourish 
in  the  world,  possibly  all  their  days  ;  or,  if 
judgment  reach  them  here,  vet  it  is  later  ;  it 
begins  at  the  hovse  of  God.  [1.]  This  holds 
in  those  who  profess  his  name,  and  are  of  the 
visible  church,  compared  with  them  who  are 
without  the  pale  of  it,  and  are  its  avowed  eii 
eniies.  [2.)  In  those  who  profess  a  desire  of 
a  more  religious  and  holy  course  of  life  with- 
in the  church,  compared  with  the  profane 
multitude.  [8.]  In  those  who  are  indeed 
more  spiritual  and  holy,  and  come  nearer 
unto  God,  compared  with  others  who  fall 
short  of  that  measure.  In  all  these  respect? 
it  holds,  that  the  Lord  doth  more  readily  ex 
ercise  them  with  afflictions,  and  correct  theii 
wanderings,  than  any  others. 

And  this  truly  is  most  reasonable;  and  the 
reason  lies  in  the  very  name  given  to  the 
church,  the  house  of  God.  For, 

1.  There  is  etjuity  in  such  a  proceeding. 
The  sins  of  the  church  have  their  peculiar 
aggravations,  which  fall  not  upon  others. 
That  which  is  simply  a  sin  in  strangers  to 
God,  is,  in  his  people,  the  breach  of  a  known 
and  received  law,  and  a  law  daily  unfolded 
and  set  before  them  :  yea,  it  is  against  their 


Ver.  17.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


323 


uath  of  allegiance;  it  is  perfidy  and  breach 
of  covenant,  committed  botii  against  the 
clearest  light,  and  the  strictest  bonds,  and  the 
higiiest  mercies.  And  still  the  more  partic- 
ular the  profession  of  his  name  and  the  testi- 
monies of  his  love,  these  make  sin  the  more 
sinful,  a.id  the  punishment  of  it  the  more 
reasonable.  The  sins  of  the  church  are  all 
twice  di  iped,  Dibapha,  have  a  double  dye. 
Isa.  i.  18.  They  are  breaches  of  the  law,  and 
they  are,  besides,  ungrateful  and  disloyal 
breaches  of  promise. 

2.  As  there  is  unquestionable  equity,  so 
there  is  an  evident  consruitij  in  this.  God 
is  ruler  of  all  the  world,  but  particularly  of 
his  churcli,  here  called  his  house,  wherein  he 
hath  a  special  residence  and  presence  ;  and 
therefore  it  is  must  suitable  that  there  he  be 
specially  observed  and  obeyed,  and  if  diso- 
beyed, that  he  take  notice  of  it  and  punish  it ; 
thai  he  suffer  not  himself  to  be  dishonored  to 
his  face  by  those  of  his  own  house.  And 
therefore,  whosoever  escapes,  his  own  shall 
not.  You  onJy  hive  I  known,  of  all  the  fam- 
ilies of  the  earth  :  therefore  icill  I  punish  you 
for  all  your  iniquities.  Amos  iii.  2.  It  is  fit 
that  he  who  righteously  judges  and  rules  all 
nations,  should  make  his  justice  most  evident 
and  exemplary  in  his  own  house,  where  it 
may  best  be  remarked,  and  where  it  will  best 
appear  how  impartial  he  is  in  punishing  sin. 
So  a  king  (as  tiie  psalmist, .Psalm  ci.  2).  that 
he  may  rule  the  land  well,  makes  his  own 
hnu-e  exemplary.  It  is,  you  know,  one  spe- 
cial qualification  of  a  bishop  and  pastor,  to  be 
one  that  rulelh  well  his  own  house,  harins;  his 
children  in  subjection  ;  for  if  a  man  know 
not  how  to  rule  his  own  house,  hon>  shall  he 
take  care  of  the  church  of  God  .<'  1  Tim.  iii.  4. 
Now  this,  therefore,  more  eminenily  appears 
in  the  Supreme  Lord  of  the  church  :  he  rules 
it  as  his  own  house,  and  therefore  when  he 
finds  disobedience  there,  he  will  first  punish 
that.  So  he  clears  himself,  and  the  wicked 
world  being  afterward  punished,  their  mouths 
are  stopped  with  the  preceding  punishment 
of  the  church.  Will  he  not  spare  his  own? 
Yea,  they  shall  be  first  scourged.  What  then 
shall  be  the  end  of  them  that  obey  not  the 
gospel. 

And  indeed,  the  purity  of  his  nature,  if  it 
be  everywhere  contrary  to  all  sinful  impurity, 
can  not  but  most  appear  in  his  [)eculiar  dwel- 
ling-house; that  he  will  especially  have  neat 
and  clean.  If  he  hate  sin  all  the  world  over, 
where  it  is  nearest  to  him  he  hates  it  most, 
and  testifies  his  hatred  of  it  most:  he  will 
not  endure  it  in  his  presence.  As  cleanly, 
neat  persons  can  not  well  look  upon  anything 
that  is  nasty,  much  less  will  they  suffer  it  to 
come  near  them  or  touch  them,  or  to  continue 
in  their  presence  in  the  house  where  they 
dwell  :  so  the  Lord,  xrho  is  of  purer  eyes 
th'in  to  behold  iniiput'i,  will  not  abide  it 
within  Ins  own  doors  ;  and  the  nearer  any  i 
come  to  him,  the  less  can  he  endure  any  un-  ' 
loliness  or  sinful  pollution  in  them.    He  will 


be  sanctified  in  all  that  come  nigh  him.  Lev. 
X.  3  ;  so  especially  in  his  ministers.  Oh, 
how  pure  ought  they  to  be,  and  how  provo- 
king and  hateful  to  him  are  their  impurities' 
Therefore,  in  that  commission  to  the  destroy- 
ers, Ezek.  ix.  6,  to  which  place  the  apostle 
here  may  have  some  reference,  Go,  says  he, 
slay  the  old  and  the  youns:,  and  begin  at  my 
sanctuary.  Tiiey  were  the  persons  who  had 
polluted  his  worship,  and  there  the  first 
stroke  lighted.  And  in  a  spiritual  sense,  be- 
cause all  his  people  are  his  own  elect  priest- 
hood, and  should  be  holiness  to  the  Lord ; 
when  they  are  not  really  so,  and  do  not  sanc- 
tify him  in  their  walking,  he  sanctifies  him- 
self, and  declares  his  holiness  in  his  judg- 
ments on  them. 

3.  There  is  mercy  in  this  dispensation  too; 
even  under  the  habit  of  judgment,  love  walks 
secretly  and  works.  So  loving  and  so  wise  a 
Father  will  not  undo  his  children  by  sparing 
the  rod,  but  because  he  loves,  rebukes,  and 
chastens.  See  Heb.  xii.  6.  Prov.  iii.  11.  Apoc. 
iii.  19.  His  church  is  his  house  ;  therefore 
that  he  may  delight  in  it,  and  take  pleasure 
to  dwell  in  it,  and  make  it  happy  with  his 
presence,  he  will  have  it  often  washed  and 
made  clean,  and  the  filth  and  rubbish  scoured 
and  purged  out  of  it ;  this  argues  his  gracious 
purpose  of  abiding  in  it. 

And  as  he  doth  it,  that  he  may  delight  in 
his  people,  so  he  doth  it  that  they  may  de- 
light in  him,  arid  in  him  alone.  He  imbitters 
the  breast  of  the  world,  to  wean  them ; 
makes  the  world  hate  them,  that  they  may 
the  more  easily  hate  it  :  suffers  them  not  to 
settle  upon  it,  and  fall  mto  a  complacency 
with  ii,  hut  makes  it  unpleasant  to  them  by 
many  and  sharp  afflictions,  that  they  may 
with  the  more  willingness  come  off  and  be 
untied  from  it,  and  that  they  may  remember 
home  the  more,  and  seek  their  comforts 
above;  that  finding  so  little  below,  they  may 
turn  unto  him,  and  deli^rht  themselves  in 
communion  with  him.  That  the  sweet  in- 
cense of  their  prayers  ma^  ascend  the  rhore 
thick,  he  kindles  those  fires  of  trials  to  them. 
For  though  it  should  not  be  so,  yet  so  it  is, 
that  in  times  of  ease  they  would  easily  grow 
remiss  and  formal  in  that  duty. 

He  is  gracious  and  wise,  knows  what  he 
does  with  them,  and  the  thovirhts  he  thinks 
toirard  them.  Jer.  xxix.  11.  All  is  for  their 
advantage,  for  the  purifying  of  their  iniquities. 
Isa.  xxvii.  9.  He  purges  out  their  impatience, 
and  earthliness,  and  self-will,  and  carnal 
security  ;  and  thus  refines  them  for  vessels 
of  honor.  We  see  in  a  jeweller's  shop,  that 
as  there  are  pearls  and  diamonds,  and  other 
precious  stones,  so  there  are  files,  cutting  in- 
struments, and  many  sharp  tools,  for  their 
polishing  ;  and  while  they  are  in  the  work- 
rii^  se,  they  are  continual  neighbors  to  them, 
and  often  come  under  them.  The  church  is 
Ood's  jewellerv,  his  work-house,  where  his 
jewels  are  a  polishing  for  his  j)alace  and  house , 
and  those  he  especially  esteems  and  means  to 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  17 


make  most  resplendent,  ho  liath  oCtcnest  liis 
tools  upon. 

Thus  observe  it,  as  it  is  the  chuicli  compar- 
ed lo  otlier  societies,  so  is  it  in  a  conf^rcfrjilion  I 
or  lainily  ;  il'  there  bo  one  more  diligently  I 
seeking  alter  God  than  tiio  rest,  he  sliall  be! 
liable  to  moot  with  more  trials,  and  be  ol'toner 
under  atlliciions  than  any  of  the  company, 
either  under  contem|)t  and  scorn,  or  poverty 
and  sickness,  or  some  one  pressure  or  other, 
outward  or  inward.    And  those  inward  trials 
are  the  nearest  and  siiar])est  which  the  world 
sees  least,  and  yet  the  soul  feels  most.  And 
yet  all  these,  both  outward  and  inward,  have 
love,  unspeakable  love  in  them  all,  being 
designed  to  purge  and  polish  tbeni,  and,  by 
the  increasing  of  grace,  to  fit  them  for  glory. 

Jnf.  1.  Let  us  not  be  so  foolish  as  to  prom- 
ise ourselves  impunity  on  account  of  our  re- 
lation to  God  as  his  church  in  covenant  with 
him.  If  once  we  thought  so,  surely  our  ex- 
perience hath  undeceived  us.  And  let  not 
what  we  have  suffered  harden  us,  as  if  the 
worst  were  past.  We  may  raiher  fear  it  is 
but  a  pledge  and  beginning  of  sharper  judg- 
ment. Why  do  we  not  consider  our  unlium- 
bled  and  unpurilied  condition,  and  tremble 
before  the  Lord  ?  Would  we  save  him  a 
labor,  he  would  take  it  well.  Let  us  purify 
our  souls,  that  he  may  not  be  put  to  further 
purifying  by  new  judgmeiiis.  Were  we  busy 
reading  our  present  condition,  we  should  see 
very  legible  foresigiis  of  further  judgments  ; 
as  for  instance  :  [1.]  The  Lord  taking  away 
his  eminent  and  worthy  servants,  who  are  as 
the  very  pillars  ol'  the  public  peace  and  wel- 
fare, and  taking  away  counsel,  and  courage, 
and  union,  from  the  rest ;  forsaking  us  in  our 
meetings,  and  leaving  us  in  the  dark  to  grope 
and  rush  one  upon  another.  [2.]  The  dissen- 
sions and  jarrings  in  the  stale  and  church,  are 
likely,  from  imagination,  to  bring  it  to  a  reality. 
These  unnatural  burnings  threaten  new  fires 
of  public  judgments  to  be  kindled  among  us. 
[3. J  That  general  despising  of  the  gospel  and 
abounding  of  profaneiiess  throughout  the 
land,  not  yet  purged,  but  as  our  great  sin 
remaining  in  us,  calls  for  more  fire  and  more 
boiling.  1 4.]  The  general  coldness  and  dead- 
ness  of  spirit  ;  the  want  of  zeal  for  God,  and 
of  the  communion  of  saints,  that  mutual  stir- 
ring up  of  one  anpther  to  holiness  ;  and,  which 
is  the  source  ot'a.l,  the  restraining  of  prayer, 
a  frozen  benumb»<lness  in  that  so  necessary 
work,  that  prevenvc^  of  judgments,  that  bind- 
er of  the  hands  of  God  Irom  punishments,  and 
opener  of  them  for  the  pouring  forth  of  mer- 
cies.— Oh  !  this  is  a  sad  condition  in  itself, 
though  it  portended  no  further  judgment,  the 
Lord  hiding  himself,  and  the  spirit  of  zeal 
and  prayer  withdrawn,  and  scarcely  any 
lamenting  it,  or  so  much  as  perceiving  it! 
Where  arc  our  days  either  of  solemn  prayer 
or  praises,  as  if  there  were  cause  for  neither  ! 
And  yet,  there  is  a  clear  cause  for  both.  Truly, 
my  brethren,  we  have  need,  if  ever  we  had, 
•o  bestir  ourselves.    Are  not  these  kingdoms, 


at  this  present,  brought  to  the  extreme  point 
of  iheir  higiiest  hazard  ?  And  yet,  who  lays 
it  to  heart. 

Inf.  2.  Learn  to  put  a  rigiit  construction 
on  all  God's  dealings  with  his  church,  and 
with  thy  soul.  With  regard  to  his  church, 
there  may  be  a  time  wherein  ihou  shall  see  it 
not  only  lossed,  but,  to  thy  thinking,  covered 
and  swallowed  up  with  tears :  but  wait  a  little, 
it  shall  arrive  safe.  This  is  a  common  stum- 
bling-stone, but  walk  by  the  light  of  the  word, 
and  the  eye  of  faith  looking  on  it,  and  thou 
shalt  pass  by  and  not  stumble  at  it.  The 
church  mourns,  and  Babylon  sings — s?ls  as  a 
(juccn  ;  but  for  how  long  ?  She  shall  coine 
(/oirn  and  sit.  in  tlic  dust  ;  and  Sion  shall  be 
glorious,  and  put  on  her  beavtiful  garments, 
while  Babylon  shall  not  look  for  another 
revolution  to  raise  her  again  :  no,  she  shall 
never  rise.  Aiid  a  mighty  angel  took  vp  a 
stone  like  a  great  mill-stone,  and  cast  it  into 
the  sea,  saying.  Thus  with  violence,  shall  that 
great  city  Babylon  be  thrown  doivn,and  shall 
be  found  no  more  at  all.  Rev.  xviii.  21. 

Be  not  hasty  :  take  God's  work  together, 
and  do  not  judge  of  it  by  parcels.  It  is  indeed 
all  wisdom  and  righteousness ;  but  we  shall 
best  discern  the  beauty  of  it,  when  we  look 
on  it  in  the  frame,  when  it  shall  be  fully  com- 
pleted and  finished,  and  our  eyes  enlightened 
to  take  a  fuller  and  clearer  view  of  it  tlian  we 
can  have  here.  Oh,  what  wonder,  what  end- 
less wondering  will  it  then  command  I 

We  read  of  Joseph  hated,  and  sold,  and 
imprisoned,  and  all  most  unjustly,  yet  because, 
within  a  leaf  or  two,  we  find  him  freed  and 
exalted,  and  his  brethren  coming  as"sup;<li- 
cants  to  him,  we  are  satisfied.  But  when  we 
look  on  things  which  are  for  the  present  cloudy 
and  dark,  our  short-sighted,  hasty  spirits  can 
not  learn  to  wait  a  little,  till  we  see  the  other 
side,  and  what  end  the  Lord  makes.  We  see 
judgment  beginning  at  the  house  of  God,  and 
this  perplexes  us  while  we  consider  not  the 
rest,  What  shall  be  the  end  of  them  that  obey 
not  the  gospel  ?  God  begins  the  judgment 
on  his  church  for  a  little  time,  that  it  may 
end  and  rest  upon  his  enemies  fur  ever.  And 
indeed,  he  leaves  the  wicked  last  in  the  pun- 
ishment, that  he  may  make  use  of  them  for 
the  punishment  of  his  church.  They  are  his 
rod,  Isa.  x.  5  ;  but  when  he  hath  done  that 
work  with  them,  they  are  broken  and  burnt, 
and  that,  when  they  are  at  the  height  of 
their  insolence  and  boasting,  not  knowing 
what  hand  moves  them,  and  smites  his  people 
with  them  for  a  while,  till  the  day  of  their 
consuming  come,  ver.  16,  24,  25.  Let  the 
vile  enemy  that  hath  shed  our  blood  and  in- 
sulted over  us,  rejoice  in  their  present  im- 
punity, and  in  men's  procuring  of  it,  and  plead- 
ing for  it  ;*  there  is  another  hand  whence  we 

•  1  am  ready  to  believe  this  refers  to  the  escape  of 
many  who  had  deserved  the  severest  punishments, 
for  their  part  in  the  grand  Irish  rebellion,  but  were 
scrceni'd  by  the  favor  of  some  great  men  in  the  reijjn 
of  Kuig  Charles  II.— [Dr.  Doddridge.] 


\  CR.  18.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


325 


may  look  for  justice.    And  though  it  may  be, ' 
tliat  the  judgment  begun  at  us,  is  not  yet 
onded,  anl  that  we  may  yet  furtlier,  and  that 
justly,  find  them  our  scourge,  yei,  certainly, 
we  may  and  ought  to  look  beyond  that,  unto  ^ 
the  end  of  the  Lord's  work,  which  shall  be  i 
the  ruin  of  his  enemies,  and  the  peace  of  his  ' 
people,  and  the  glory  of  his  name.  ' 

Of  them  that  obey  not  the  gospel.']  The  end 
of  all  the  ungodly  is  terrible,  but  especially 
the  end  of  such  as  heard  the  gospel,  and 
have  not  received  and  obeyed  it. 

The  word  iirw./  hath  in  it  both  unbelief 
and  disobedience  ;  and  these  are  insepara- 
ble. Unbelief  is  the  grand  point  of  disobe- 
dience in  itself,  and  the  spring  of  all  other 
disobedience:  and  the  pity  is,  that  men  will 
not  believe  it  to  be  thus. 

They  think  it  an  easy  and  a  common  thing 
to  believe.  Who  doth  not  believe  ?  Oh,  but 
rather,  who  does  ?  M'Ao  hath  helieved  our 
report  ?  Were  our  own  misery,  and  the  hap- 
piness that  is  in  Christ  believed,  were  the 
riches  of  Christ  and  the  love  of  Christ  be- 
lieved, would  not  this  persuade  men  to  for- 
sake their  sins  and  the  world,  in  order  to  em- 
brace him  ? 

But  men  run  away  with  an  extraordinary 
fancy  of  believing,  and  do  not  deeply  consid- 
er what  news  the  gospel  brings,  and  how 
much  it  concerns  them.  Sometimes,  it  may 
be,  they  have  a  sudden  thought  of  it,  and 
they  think,  I  will  think  on  it  better  at  some 
other  lime.  But  when  comes  that  time? 
One  business  steps  in  after  another,  and  shuf- 
fles it  out.  Men  are  not  at  leisure  to  be 
saved.  I 

Observe  the  phrase,  the  gospel  of  God.  It ' 
is  his  embassy  of  peace  to  men,  the  riches 
of  his  mercy  and  free  love  opened  and  set 
forth,  not  simply  to  be  looked  upon,  but  laid 
hold  on  ;  the  glorious  holy  God  declaring  his 
design  of  agreement  with  man,  in  his  own 
Son,  his  blood  streamins  forth  in  it  to  wash 
away  uncleanness.  And  yet  this  gospel  is 
not  obeyed  !  Surely,  the  conditions  of  it 
must  be  very  hard,  and  the  commands  intol- 
erably grievous,  that  are  not  hearkened  to. 
Why,  judge  you  if  they  be.  The  great  com- i 
mand  is,  to  receive  that  salvation  :  and  the  [ 
otiier  is  this,  to  love  that  Savior;  and  there 
is  no  more.  Perfect  ob('dien<-e  is  not  now  the 
thing  ;  and  the  obedience  which  is  required, 
that  love  makes  sweet  and  easy  to  us,  and 
acceptable  to  him.  This  is  proclaimed  to  all 
who  hear  the  gos[iel,  hut  the  greatest  part 
refuse  it:  they  love  themselves,  and  their 
lusts,  and  this  present  world,  and  will  not 
change,  and  so  they  perish  I 

They  perish  What  is  that?  What  is 
their  end  ?  I  will  answer  that  but  as  the 
apostle  doth,  and  that  is  even  by  asking  the 
(piestion  over  again.  What  shnll  he  their  end? 

There  is  no  speaking  of  it  ;  a  curtain  is 
drawn  :  silent  wonder  expresses  it  best,  tel- 
ling that  it  can  not  be  ex|)ressed.  How  tben 
shall  It  be  endured  ?    It  is  true,  that  there 


be  resemblances  used  in  Scripture,  giving  as 
some  glance  of  it.  We  hear  of  a  bur/ung 
lake,  a  fire  that  is  not  quenched,  and  a  worm 
that  dies  not.  Isa.  Ixvi.  24  ;  Mark  ix.  44  ; 
Rev,  xxi.  8.  But  these  are  but  shadows  to 
the  real  misery  of  them  that  obey  not  the 
gospel.  Oh,  to  be  tilled  with  the  wrath  of 
God,  the  ever-living  God,  forever!  What 
words  or  thoughts  can  reach  it?  Oh,  eter- 
nity, eternity!    Oh,  that  we  did  believe  it. 

This  same  parallel  of  the  Lord's  dealing 
with  the  righteous  and  the  wicked,  is  con- 
tinued in  the  following  verse,  in  other  terms 
for  the  clearer  expression,  and  deeper  im- 
pression of  it. 

Ver.  18.  .And  if  the  righteous  scarcely  be  saved, 
where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear. 

It  is  true,  then,  that  they  are  scarcely  sav- 
ed :  even  they  who  endeavor  to  walk  up- 
rightly in  the  ways  of  God,  that  is,  the  righ- 
teous, they  are  scarcely  saved.  Tiiis  imports 
not  any  uncertainly  or  hazard  in  the  thing 
itself  as  to  the  end,  in  respect  of  the  purpose 
and  performance  of  God,  but  only,  the  grea. 
difficulties  and  hard  encounters  in  the  way; 
that  they  go  through  so  many  temptations 
and  triljulations,  so  many  fightings  without, 
and  fears  within.  The  Christian  is  so  sim- 
ple and  weak,  and  his  enemies  are  so  crafty 
and  powerful,  the  oppositions  of  the  wicked 
world,  their  hatreds,  and  scorns,  and  moles- 
tations, the  sleigiits  and  violence  of  Satan, 
and,  worst  of  all,  tlie  strength  of  his  own 
corruptions;  and  by  reason  of  abounding  cor- 
ruption, there  is  such  frequent,  almosi  con- 
tinual, need  of  ijurifying  by  afflictions  and 
trials,  that  he  has  need  to  be  still  under 
physic,  and  is  of  necessity  at  sometimes 
drained  and  brought  so  low,  that  there  is 
scarcely  strength  or  life  remaiiiiiii;  in  him. 

And,  truly,  all  outward  dilliculties  would 
be  but  matter  of  ease,  would  be  as  nothing, 
were  it  not  for  the  incumbrance  of  lu>ts  and 
corruptions  within.  Were  a  man  to  meet 
disgraces  and  sufferings  for  Christ,  how  eas- 
ily would  he  go  through  them,  yea,  and  re- 
joice in  them,  were  he  rid  of  the  fretting  im- 
patience, the  pride,  and  self-hjve,  of  his  own 
carnal  heajt !  These  clog  and  trouble  him 
worst,  and  he  can  not  shake  tbem  off,  nor 
prevail  airainsl  them  without  much  pains, 
many  prayers  and  tears;  and  many  times, 
after  much  wrestling,  he  scarcely  finds  that 
he  hath  ijained  any  ground  :  yea,  sometimes 
he  is  foiled  and  cast  down  by  them. 

And  so,  ill  all  other  duties,  such  a  fighting 
and  continual  combat,  with  a  revolting,  back- 
sliding heart,  the  flesh  siill  jiulliiig  and  drag, 
gins  downward  !  When  he  would  mount  up, 
he  finds  himself  as  a  bird  witfi  a  stone  tied  to 
its  fool  :  he  hath  wings  that  flutter  to  be  up- 
ward, but  is  pressed  down  by  the  weight 
fastened  to  him.  What  stru^'-irling-  with  wan- 
deriiiEs  and  deadness  in  hearing,  and  reading, 
and  prayer  I  And  what  is  most  grievous  is, 
that,  by  their  unwary  walkini;,  and  the  pre- 
vailing of  some  corruption,  tliey  grieve  'he 


126 


A  COMMENTARY  UPOJN  THE 


[Chap  IV 


Spitil  of  God,  and  provoke  him  to  hide  his 
face,  iuul  withdraw  his  comforts.  How  much 
pain  to  attain  an\  lhin<r.  any  particular  grace 
of  lumiiliiy,  or  nu'el(ne.;s,  or  self-denial  :  and 
if  anvihinij  hi;  attained,  how  hard  lo-keej) 
and  iiiainiaiii  it  against  the  contrary  party  I 
How  ol'tuu  are  they  driven  back  to  their  old 

fioiiit.  If  they  do  but  cease  from  striving  a 
iltle,  they  are  carried  back  bv  the  stream. 
And  what  returns  of  doublings  and  misbe- 
lief, after  they  thought  they  were  got  some- 
what above  them,  insomuch  that  sometimes 
they  are  at  the  point  of  giving  over,  and 
thinking  it  will  never  be  for  them.  And  yet, 
tiirough  all  these  they  are  brousht  safe  home. 
There  is  another  strength  than  theirs  which 
bears  them  up,  and  brings  them  through. 
But  these  things,  and  many  more  of  this  na- 
ture, argue  the  difficulty  of  their  course,  and 
that  It  IS  not  so  easy  a  thing  to  come  to  heav- 
en as  most  imagine  it. 

InJ'i-r';nce.  Thou  that  findest  so  little  stop 
and  conflict  in  it,  who  goest  thy  round  of  ex- 
ternal duties,  and  all  is  w^U,'  art  no  more 
troubled  ;  thou  hast  need  to  inquire,  after  a 
long  time  spent  in  this  wav,  am  T  right  ? 
Have  I  not  yet  to  begin  ?  Surelv,  this  looks  not 
liketlie  way  to  heaven,  as  it  is  described  in  the 
Scripture:  it  is  too  smooth  and  easv  to  be  riffht. 

And  if  the  wav  of  the  riirhteous  be  so  hard, 
then  liow  hard  shall  be  the  end  of  the  unirodiv 
Kumer  that  walks  in  sin  with  delight!  It 
were  strange  if  thev  should  be  at  sucli  pains, 
and  wiih  great  difficulty  attain  their  end.  and 
he  should  come  in  among  them  in  the  end  ; 
they  were  fools  indeed.  True,  if  it  were  so. 
But  what  if  it  be  not  so?  Then  the  wicked 
man  is  the  fool,  and  shall  find  ihat  he  is,  when 
he  shall  not  be  able  to  sl'in/l  in  ivflampnt. 
Where  shall  he  appear,  when  to  the  end  he 
might  not  appear,  he  would  be  glad  to  be 
fcmoihercd  under  the  weight  of  the  hills  and 
mountains,  if  ihey  could  shelter  him  from  ap- 
pearing ? 

And  what  is  the  aim  of  all  this  which  we 
have  spoken,  or  can  speak,  on  this  subject,  but 
that  ye  may  be  moved  to  take  into  deeper 
thoughts  the  concernment  of  your  immortal 
souls  ?  Oh,  that  you  would  he  persuaded  ! 
Oh,  that  you  would  betake  yourselves  to 
Jesus  Christ,  and  seek  salvation  in  him  !  Seek 
to  be  covered  with  his  ricrhtec  usness,  and  tn 
be  led  by  his  Spirit  in  the  ways  of  rii;hteous- 
ness.  That  will  seal  to  you  tlie  bappv  cer- 
tainty of  the  end,  and  overcome  for  vou  all 
the  difficulties  of  the  wav.  What  is  the  gos- 
pel of  Christ  preached  for?  What  was^ihe 
Llood  of  Christ  shed  for  ?  Was  it  not,  that 
by  receiving  him  we  might  escape  condemna- 
tion ?  Nay,  this  drew  him  from  heaven  :  He 
came,  that  we  mtirhl  have  life,  and  that  ive 
mt^/it  have  it  more  ahunilantly.  John  x.  10. 
V'er.  19.  Wherefore  lot  tlrein  that  siifTer  .■loeording  to 
tlie  will  of  (iod,  roniinit  tlie  keejiins  of  their  souls 
to  him  in  well-doing,  as  unto  a  faithful  Creator. 
NoTiiiNG  doth  so  establish  the  mind  amid 
tUe  rollings  and  turhulency  of  present  things, 


'  as  hoih  a  look  above  them,  and  a  look  beyond 
{  iheni  ;  above  ihem  to  the  steadv  and  good 
Hand  by  which  they  are  ruled,  and  beyond 
ihem  to  the  sweet  and  beautiful  end  to  which, 
by  that  Hand,  they  shall  be  brought.  Tliis 
the  aposll(>  lays  here  as  ilie  foundaiion  of  ibat 
patience  and  peace  in  troubles,  wherewith  lie 
would  have  his  brelhren  furnished.  And  thus 
he  closes  this  chapter  in  these  words:  Whelie- 
f()i;e,  let  them  thai  svffr.r  ar.cording  to  the  will 
of  God,  commit  the  kcepim;  of  their  sou/s  to 
him  i?i  well-doing  as  unto  a  faithful  Creator. 

The  words  contain  the  true  princijile  of 
Christian  paiience  and  iran<iuilliiy  of  mind  in 
the  sulferings  of  this  life,  expressing  boih 
wherein  it  consists,  and  what  are  the  grounds 
of  it. 

I.  It  lies  in  this,  committing  the  soul  nnic 
God.    The  word  -  .ij/irt.  ir-ii..  which  is  add- 
ed, is  a  true  qualification  of  this,  that  it  be 
i7i  well  diiini,'-,  according  to  the  preceding  doc- 
trine,  which  the  apostle  gives  cleaily  and 
largely,  ver.  15,  16.     If  men  would  have 
inward  peace  amid  outward  trouble,  they 
must  walk  by  the  rule  of  peace,  and  keep 
sirictly  to  it.    If  you  would  commit  your  soul 
to  the  keeping  of  God,  know  that  he  is  a  holy 
God,  and  an  unholy  soul  that  walks  in  any 
way  of  wickedness,  whether  known  or  secret, 
is  no  fit  commodity  to  put  into  his  jjure  hand 
to  keep.    Therefore,  as  you  would  have  this 
confidence  to  give  your  holy  God  the  keep- 
ing of  your  soul,  and  that  he  may  accept 
of  it,  and  lake  il  ofi'  your  hand,  beware  of 
wilful  pollutions  and  unholy  ways.    Walk  so 
as  you  may  not  discredit  your  Protector,  and 
move  bini  to  be  ashamed  of  you,  and  disclaim 
you.    Shall  it  be  said  that  you  live  under  hi9 
shelter,  and  yet  walk  inordinately  ?    As  this 
can  not  well  be,  you  can  not  well  believe  it 
to  be.    Loose  ways  will  loosen  your  hold  of 
him,  and  confidence  in  him.    You  will  be 
driven  to  question  your  interest,  and  to  think, 
j  surely  I  do  but  delude  myself:  can  I  be  under 
bis  safeguard,  and  yet  follow  the  course  of 
Ine  w(.rld,  and  my  corrupt  heart  ?  Ceriainly, 
^  let  who  will  be  so,  he  will  not  be  a  guardian 
I  and  patron  of  wickedness.    No,  he  ?s  not  a 
God  that  hath  yleasiire  in  wickedness,  nor  shall 
\  evil  dwell  unth  him.  Psalm  v.  4.    If  thou  give 
I  thy  soul  to  him  to  keep,  upon  the  terms  of 
!  liberty  to  sin,  he  will  turn  it  out  of  his  doors, 
;  and  remit  it  back  to  thee  to  look  to  as  thou 
wilt  thyself.    Yea,  in  the  ways  of  sin,  thou 
dost  indeed  steal  it  back,  and  carriest  it  out 
I  from  him;  thou  puitest  thyself  out  of  the 
I  compass  of  his  defence,  goest  without  the 
trenches,  and  art,  at  thine  own  hazard,  ex- 
posed to  armies  of  tnischiefs  and  miseries, 
i     Inference.    This,  then,  is  jirimarily  to  be 
looked  to  :  you  that  would  have  safety  in  God 
I  in  evil  times,  beware  of  evil  ways  ;  for  in 
these  it  can  not  be.    If  you  will  be  safe  in 
him,  you  must  stay  with  him,  and  in  all  your 
ways,  keep  within  liim  as  your  for  ress 
Now,  in  the  ways  of  sin  you  run  out  frcai 
,  him. 


7er.  19.1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


327 


Hence  it  is  we  have  so  little  established 
confidence  ia  God  in  limes  of  trial.  We  take 
ways  of  our  own,  and  will  be  gadding,  and 
so  we  are  surprised  and  taken,  as  they  that 
are  often  venturing  out  into  the  enemy's  reach, 
and  can  not  stay  within  the  walls.  It  is  no 
idle  repetition,  Psalm  xci.  1 :  lie  thai  dwclhth 
in  the  secrri  places  of  the  Most  lT/,qh,  shall 
abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almii,'-ht >/.  He 
that  wanders  not,  but  stavs  there,  shall  find 
himself  there  hidden  from  danger.  Thuy  that 
rove  out  from  (rod  in  their  ways,  are  disquiet- 
ed and  tossed  vviih  fears  ;  this  is  ihe fruit  of 
their  own  ways  ;  but  the  soul  that  is  indeed 
given  to  him  to  keep,  keeps  near  him. 

Study  pure  and  holy  walking,  if  you  would 
have  your  confidence  firm,  and  have  boldness 
and  joy  in  God.  Vou  will  find  that  a  little 
sin  will  shake  your  trust,  and  disturb  your 
peace,  mure  than  the  irreatest  sufferings  :  yea, 
in  those  sufferings,  your  assurance  and  joy  in 
God  will  grow  and  abound  most  if  sin  be  kept 
out.  That  is  the  trouble-feast  that  disquiets 
the  conscience,  which,  while  it  continues 
good,  is  a  continual  feast.  So  much  sin  as 
gets  in,  so  much  peace  will  go  out.  Afflictions 
can  not  break  in  ui)oa  it  to  break  it,  but  sin 
doth.  All  the  winds  which  blow  about  the 
earth  from  all  points,  stir  it  not  :  only  that 
wiiliin  tlie  bowelsofit  makes  the  earthquake. 

I  do  not  mean  that  for  infirmities  a  Chris- 
tian ought  to  be  discouraged.  But  take  heed 
of  walking  m  any  way  of  sin,  for  that  will 
unsettle  thy  confidence.  Innocenev  and  holy 
walking  make  the  soul  of  a  sound  constiiu- 
lion,  which  ihe  counterblasts  of  alfliction  wear 
not  out,  nor  alter.  Sin  makes  it  so  sickly  and 
crazy,  that  it  can  endure  nothing.  Therefore, 
study  10  keep  your  consciences  pure,  and  they 
Bhail  be  peaceable,  yea,  in  the  worst  of  times 
commonly  most  peaceable  and  best  furnished 
with  spiritual  confidence  and  comfort. 

f^'ommit  the  kce/)in<^  of  their  souls.]  The 
Lord  is  an  entire  protector.  He  keeps  the  bod- 
ies, yea,  all  that  belongs  to  the  believer,  and, 
as  much  as  is  good  for  him,  makes  all  safe, 
keeps  all  his  bones,  not  one  of  them  is  broken, 
Psal.  xxxiv.  18  ;  yea,  says  our  Savior,  The 
ven/  hairs  of  ynitr  head  are  numbered.  Matt. 
X.  :?0.  But  that  which,  as  in  the  believer's 
account,  and  in  God's  account,  so,  c(!rtainly 
in  itself  is  most  precious,  is  principally  com- 
mitted and  received  into  his  keeping,  thrir 
souls.  They  would  most  gladly  l)e  secured 
in  that  here,  and  that  shall  be  safe  in  the 
midst  of  all  hazards.  Their  chief  concern  is, 
that,  vvhaisoever  be  lost,  this  may  not:  this 
is  tlie  jewel,  and  therefore,  the  prime  care  is 
of  this.  If  the  soul  be  safe,  all  is  well ;  it  is 
riches  enough.  What  shall  it  profit  a  man, 
ihou'^h  he  s^ain  the  whole  luorld,  says  our  Sa- 
vior, and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  Mark  viii.  30. 
And  so,  what  shall  it  disprofit  a  man,  though 
he  lose  the  whole  world,  if  he  gain  his  soul  ? 
Noihing  at  all. 

When  times  of  trial  come,  oh,  what  a  bus- 
tle to  hide  this  and  that;  to  flee,  and  carry 


;  away  and  make  safe  that  which  is  but  'rasl 
and  rubbish  to  the  precious  soul  ;   but  hovii 
I  few  thoughts  of  that  !    Were  we  in  our  wits, 
!  that  would  be  all  at  all  times,  not  only  iu 
trouble,  but  in  days  of  peace.    Oh,  how  shall 
I  make  sure  about  my  soul  ?    Let  all  go  as 
it  may,  can  I  but  be  secured  and  persuaded  in 
that  point,  I  desire  no  more. 
I     Now,  the  way  is  this,  commit  them  to  God : 
!  this  many  say,  but  few  do.    Give  them  into 
I  his  hand,  lay  them  up  there  (so  the  word  is), 
and  they  are  safe,  and  may  be  quiet  and  com- 
posed. 

In  patience  possess  your  souls,  says  our  Sa- 
vior, Luke  xxiv.  19.  Impatient,  fretting 
souls  are  out  of  themselves  ;  their  owners 
do  not  possess  them.  Now,  the  way  to  pos- 
sess them  ourselves  in  patience,  is,  thus  to 
commit  them  to  him  in  confidence  :  for  then 
only  we  possess  them,  when  he  keeps  them. 
They  are  easily  distiuieted  and  shaken  ir 
pieces  while  they  are  in  our  own  hands,  but 
in  his  hand,  they  are  above  the  reach  of  dan- 
gers and  fears. 

Inference.  Learn  hence,  what  is  tue 
proper  act  of  faith  :  it  rolls  the  soul  over  on 
God,  ventures  it  in  his  hand,  and  rests  satis- 
fied concerning  it,  being  there.  And  there  is 
no  way  but  this,  to  be  quiet  within,  to  be  im- 
pregnable and  immovable  in  all  assaults,  and 
fixed  in  all  changes,  believing  in  his  free 
love.  Therefore,  be  persuaded  to  resolve  on 
that  ; — not  doubting  and  dis[)uiing,  "  Wheth- 
er shall  I  believe  or  not  ?  Shall  1  think  he  will 
suffer  rac  to  lay  my  scjul  upon  him  to  keep, 
so  unworthy,  so  guiiiy  a  soul  ?  Were  it  not 
presumption  !" — Ob,  what  sayest  ihou  ?  Why 
dost  thou  thus  dishonor  him,  and  disquiet 
thyself  ?  If  thou  hast  a  purpose  to  walk  in 
any  way  of  wickedness,  indeed  thou  art  not 
fof  him  ;  yea,  thou  comest  not  near  him 
to  give  him  thy  soul.  But  wouldst  thou 
have  it  delivered  from  sin,  rather  than  from 
trouble,  yea,  rather  than  from  hell  ?  Is  that 
the  chief  safely  thou  seekest,  to  be  kept  from 
iniquity,  from  ihine  own  iniquity,  thy  belov- 
ed sins  ?  Dost  thou  desire  to  dwell  in  him.  • 
and  walk  with  him  ?  Then,  whatsoever  be 
thy  guiltiness  and  unworlhiness,  come  for- 
ward, and  give  him  thy  soul  to  keep.  If  he 
should  seem  to  refuse  it,  press  it  (jn  him.  If 
he  stretiih  not  forth  his  band,  lay  it  down 
at  his  foot,  and  leave  it  there,  and  resolve 
not  to  take  it  back.  Say,  "  Lord,  thou  hast 
made  us  these  souls,  thou  callest  for  them 
again  to  be  committed  to  thee  :  here  is  one. 
It  is  unworthy,  nut  what  soul  is  not  so?  It 
is  most  unworthy,  hut  therein  will  the  riches 
of  thy  grace  appear  most  in  receiving  it.''  And 
thus  leave  it  with  him,  and  know,  he  will 
make  thee  a  good  account  of  it.  Now,  should 
you  lose  goods,  or  credit,  or  friends,  or  life  it- 
self", it  imports  not  ;  the  main  concern  is  sure, 
if  so  be  thy  soul  is  out  of  hazard.  /  suffer 
Ihi-si'  thiri'^s  for  the  s^Dspel,  says  the  apostle: 
nerert heless,  1  am  not  ashamed — Why  ? — 
for  I  know  whom  I  have  trusted,  and  am  per* 


328 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chaf.  Y 


tuaded  that  he  is  ahh  to  keeji  that  which  I  \ 
have  coinmillcd  to  hiin  against  thai  day.  2 
Tim.  i.  12, 

II.  The  ground  of  this  confidence,  is  in 
these  two  things,  the  ability  and  the Jidflity  of 
liim  in  \vhuni  we  trust.  There  is  much  in  a 
persuasion  of  the  power  of  God.  Thougli 
lew  tluiik  tliey  question  that,  lliere  is  in  us 
secret,  undiscovered  unbelief,  even  in  that 
point.  Therefore  the  Lord  so  often  makes 
mention  of  it  in  the  prophets.  See  Isa.  1.  3, 
&c.  And,  on  this  point,  the  Apostle  Paul  is 
particuhirly  express:  I  am  persuaded  that  he 
IS  able  to  keep,  &c.  So  this  apostle  :  Kept  by 
the  power  of  God  through  failh  unto  salva- 
tion, ready  to  be  revealed  in  the  last  time. 
Chap.  i.  5.  This  is  very  needful  to  be  con- 
sidered, in  regard  of  the  many  and  great  op- 
positions, and  dangers,  and  powerful  enemies, 
thit  seek  after  our  souls  ;  He  is  able  to  keep 
th.uii,for  he  is  stronger  than  all,  and  none 
can  pluck  ihein  out  of  his  hand,  says  our  Sa- 
vior. Jolin  X.  29.  This  the  a])ostle  here 
implies  in  that  word.  Creator:  if  he  was 
able  to  give  them  being,  surely  he  is  able 
to  keep  them  from  perishing.  This  rela- 
tion of  a  Creator  implies  likewise  a  benign 
propension  and  good  will  to  the  works  of  his 
hands;  if  he  gave  ihem  us  at  first,  when 
once  they  were  not,  forming  them  out  of 
nothing,  will  he  not  give  us  them  again,  be- 
ing put  into  his  hand  for  safety  ? 

And  as  lie  is  powerful,  he  is  no  less  faith- 
ful, a  faithful  Creator.  Truth  itself.  Those 
who  believe  on  him,  he  never  deceives  or 
disappoints.  Well  might  St.  Paul  say,  I 
know  whom  I  have  trusted.  Oh,  the  advan- 
tage of  laith  !  It  engages  the  truth  aiid  the 
power  of  God  :  his  royal  word  and  honor  lie 
ui)on  it,  to  preserve  the  soul  thai  faith  gives 
him  in  keeping.  If  he  remain  able  and  faith- 
ful to  perform  his  word,  that  soul  shall  not 
perish. 

There  be  in  the  words,  other  two  grounds 
of  quietness  of  spirit  in  sufferings.  [I.j  It  is 
according  to  the  will  of  God.  The  believing 
soul,  subjected  a.';  1  levelled  to  that  will,  com- 
plying with  his  goijd  pleasure  in  all,  can  not 
have  a  more  powerful  persuasive  than  this, 
that  all  is  ordered  by  his  will.  This  settled 
in  the  heart  would  settle  it  much,  and  make 
it  even  in  all  things  :  not  only  to  know,  but 
wisely  and  deeply  to  consider,  that  it  is  thus, 
that  all  is  measured  in  heaven,  every  drachm 
of  thy  troubles  weighed  by  that  skilful  hand, 
which  doth  all  things  by  weight,  number, 
and  measure. 

And  then,  consider  him  as  thy  God  and 
Father,  who  hath  taken  special  charge  of 
fhee,  and  of  thy  soul :  thou  hast  given  it  to 
him,  and  he  hath  received  it.  A.id,  upon  this 
consids"ition.  study  to  follow  his  will  in  all, 
to  nave  no  will  but  his.  This  is  thy  duty, 
and  thy  wisdom.  Nothing  is  gained  Ijy 
spuming  and  strugglinir,  ljut  to  hurt  and  vex 
thyself:  but  by  com[)lying,  all  is  gained — 
■weet  peace.    It  is  the  very  secret,  the  mys- 


tery of  solid  peace  within,  to  resign  all  to 
will,  to  be  disposed  of  at  his  (deasure,  with 
out  the  least  contrary  thought.  And  thus, 
like  two-faced  pictures,  those  sufferings  and 
troubles,  and  whatsoever  else,  while  beheld 
on  the  one  side  as  painful  to  the  fiesh,  hath 
an  unpleasant  visage,  yet,  go  about  a  little, 
and  look  n[)on  it  as  tliy  Father's  will,  and  then 
it  is  smiling,  beautiful,  and  lovely.  This  I 
would  recommend  to  you,  not  only  for  tem- 
porals, as  easier  there,  i)ut  in  spiritual  things, 
your  comftirts  and  sensible  enlargements,  to 
love  all  that  he  does.  It  is  the  sum  of  Chris- 
tianity, to  have  thy  will  crucified,  and  the 
will  of  thy  Lord  thy  only  desire.  Wiiether 
joy  or  sorrow,  sickness  or  health,  life  or  deaili, 
in  all,  in  all.  Thy  will  he  done. 

The  other  ground  of  quietness  is  contained 
in  the  first  word,  which  looks  back  on  the 
foregoing  discourse,  Wherefore — what?  See- 
ing that  your  reproachings  and  sufl'crings  are 
not  endless,  yea,  th,:t  they  are  short,  tliey 
shall  end,  quickly  end,  and  end  in  glory,  be 
not  troubled  about  them,  overlook  them. 
The  eye  of  faith  will  do  it.  A  moment  gone, 
and  what  are  they  ?  This  is  the  great  cause 
of  our  disquietness  in  present  troubles  and 
griefs;  we  forget  their  end.  We  are  affect- 
ed by  our  condition  in  this  present  life,  as  if 
it  were  all.  and  it  is  nothing.  Oh,  how  quick- 
ly shall  all  the  enjoyments,  and  all  the  suf- 
ferings of  this  life  pass  away,  and  be  as  if  they 
had  not  been  ! 


CHAPTER  V. 

Ver  ].  The  elders  which  are  among  you,  I  exhort, 
who  am  also  an  older,  and  a  witness  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ,  and  also  a  partaker  of  the  glory 
that  shall  be  r<!vealed. 

The  church  of  Christ  being  one  body,  is 
interested  in  the  condition  and  carriage  of 
each  particular  Christian,  as  a  part  oi'it,  but 
more  especially  in  respect  to  those  who  are 
more  eminent  and  organic  parts  of  it.  There- 
fore, ihe  apostle,  after  many  excellent  direc- 
tions given  to  all  his  Christian  brethren  to 
whom  he  writes,  doth  most  reasonably  and 
fitly  add  this  express  exhortation  to  those 
who  had  the  oversight  send  charge  ol'the  rest : 
The  elders  which  are  among  you,  &c. 

The  words  contain  a  particular  definition 
of  the  persons  exhorted  and  the  persons  ex- 
horting. 

I.  The  persons  exhorted  :  The  elders  among 
you.  Elders  here,  as  in  other  places,  is  a 
name,  not  of  age,  but  of  office  :  yet  the  ofllice 
is  named  by  that  age  which  is,  or  ought  tc 
be,  most  suitably  qualified  for  it,  importing, 
that  men,  thoush  not  aged,  yet,  if  called  tc 
that  office,  should  be  noted  for  such  wisdom 
and  gravity  of  mind  and  carriage,  as  may 
give  that  authority,  and  command  that  re- 
spect, which  is  requisite  for  jiersons  in  their 
calling;  noi  novices,  as  St.  Paul  speaks  :  not 


Ver.  1.1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


as  a  light  bladder,  being  easily  blown  up,  as 
young  unstable  minds  are  ;  but  such  as  young 
Timothy  was  in  humility  and  diligence,  as 
the  apostle  testifies  of  him,  Phil.  ii.  20,  and 
as  he  further  exhorts  him  to  be,  1  Tim.  iv. 
12:  Let  no  man  despise  thy  youth,  but  be  an 
example  of  believers  in  word,  in  conversation, 
in  charity,  in  faith,  in  purity. 

The  name  of  elders  indifferently  signifies 
either  age  or  their  calling  :  and  the  name  of 
ruling  elders  sometimes  denotes  civil  rulers, 
sometimes  pastors  of  the  church  ;  as,  among 
the  Jews,  both  offices  often  met  in  the  same 
person.  Here,  it  appears  that  pastors  are 
meant,  as  the  exhortation,  of  feeding  the 
flock,  evidences;  which  though  it  sometimes 
signifies  ruling,  and  here  may  comprise  it, 
yet  is  chiefly  by  doctrine.  And  then  the  title 
given  to  Christ,  in  the  encouragement  which 
is  added,  confirms  this  interpretation :  The 
Chief  Shepherd. 

A  due  frame  of  spirit  and  carriage  in  the 
elders,  particularly  the  apostles  of  the  church, 
is  a  thing  of  prime  concern  for  the  good  of  it. 
It  is  one  of  the  heaviest  threalenings,  when 
the  Lord  declares,  that  he  will  give  a  rebel- 
lious people  such  teachers  and  prophets  as 
they  deserved,  and  indeed  desired:  If  there 
be  a  man  to  prophesy  of  wine  and  strong 
drink,  such  a  one  shall  be  a  prophet,  says 
he  to  that  people.  Mic.  ii.  11.  And,  on  the 
other  side,  among  the  sweetest  promises  of 
mercy,  this  is  not  the  least,  to  be  furnished 
with  plenty  of  faithful  teachers.  Though 
profane  men  make  no  reckoning  of  it,  yet, 
were  it  in  the  hardest  times,  they  who  know 
the  Lord  will  account  of  it  as  he  doth,  a 
sweet  allay  of  all  sufferings  and  hardship: 
Though  the  Lord  give  yuu  the  bread  of  adver- 
sity and  the  water  of  affliction,  yet  shall  not 
thy  teachers  be  removed  into  a  corner,  hut 
thine  eyes  shall  see  t/ty  teachers.  Isa.  xxx.  20. 
now  rich  a  promise  is  that,  Jer.  iii.  15:  I  will 
give  you  pastors  according  to  my  own  heart. 

This  promise  is  to  be  pressed  and  sued  for 
by  es^'aest  prayer.    Were  people  much  in  this 
duty,  pastors  would  find  the  benefit  of  it,  and 
so  the  people  themselves  would  receive  back 
their  i)rayers,  with  much  gain,  into  their  own 
bosom:  they  would  have  the  returned  hene- 
fit  of  it,  as  the  vapors  that  go  up  from  be- 
low fall  down  upon  the  earth  again  in  sweet 
showers  and  make  it  fruitful.    Thus,  went 
there  many  prayers  up  for  pastors,  their  doc- 
trine would  drop  as  rain,  and  distil  as  dew, 
(Deut.  xxx.  2),  and  tiie  sweet  influence  of  it  j 
would  make   fruitful  the  valleys,  humble  i 
hearts  receiving  it.    And,  at  this  time,  it  is 
very  needful  that  the  Lord  be  much  impor- ! 
tuned  for  the  continuance  and  increase  of  his 
favor  in  this  his  cliurcli.    As  they  who  have  j 
power  should  be  more  careful  of  those  due 
means  which,  in  schools  of  learning,  or  oth- ' 
crwise,  are  needful  for  f|iialify  ing  men  for  this 
service;  so,  all  in  general,  both  people  and  \ 
pastors,  and  such  as  are  oflcring  ibemsclvcs 
(o  that  service,  sliould  ciiiefly  hes  from  the 
42 


higher  academy,  that  teaching,  abundance 
of  that  Spirit  promised  to  those  employed  in 
that  work,  that  might  make  them  able  minis- 
ters of  the  New  Testament. 

Oh  !  it  is  an  inestimable  blessing,  to  have 
the  saving  light  of  the  gospel  shining  clear  in 
the  faithful  and  powerful  ministry  of  it.  They 
thought  so,  who  said  of  their  worthy  teacher, 
they  had  rather  for  them,  that  the  sun  should 
not  shine,  than  that  he  should  not  leach. 
Satius  solemnon  lucere,  quam  Chrysostonnim 
non  docere. 

2.  The  person  exhorting  :  I,  a  co-presbyter 
or  fellow-elder.whh  you.  The  duty  of  mu- 
tual exhortation  lies  on  Christians  at  large, 
though  it  be  little  known  among  the  greatest 
part ;  but  truly,  pastors  should  be,  as  in  oth- 
er duties,  so  particularly  in  this,  eminent  and 
exemplary  in  their  intercourse  and  converse, 
saying  often  one  to  another.  Oh  !  let  us  re- 
member to  what  we  are  called  ;  to  how  high 
and  heavy  a  charge  ;  to  what  holiness  and 
diligence  ;  how  great  is  the  hazard  of  our 
miscarriage,  and  how  great  the  reward  of 
our  fidelity.  They  should  be  often  whetting 
and  sharpening  one  ano^ier  by  these  weighty 
and  holy  considerations. 

And  a  witness  of  the  .sufferings  of  Christ. 
He  did  indeed  give  witness  to  Christ,  by  suf- 
fering for  him  the  hatred  and  persecutions  of 
the  world  in  the  publishing  of  the  gospel,  and 
so  was  a  witness  and  martyr  before  tiie  time 
that  he  was  put  to  death  :  and  this  I  exclude 
not.  But  that  which  is  more  particularly  here 
intended  is,  liis  certain  knowledge  of  the  suf- 
fe^in^^s  of  Christ,  in  his  own  person,  as  an 
eyewitness  of  them,  and  \\\nn\  that  knovvl- 
e{lge,  a  publisher  of  them.  Luke  xxiv.  48. 
And  thus  these  two  suit  with  the  two  mo- 
tives urged,  to  bear  home  the  exhortation: 
the  one  couched  in  that  expression,  the  fock 
of  God  (ver.  2),  his  purchase  with  those  his 
sufferings  whereof  I  was  an  eyewitness  ;  the 
other  motive,  in  the  words,  a  crown  of  glory, 
&c.,  ver.  4.  As  if  he  had  said,  I  may  si)eak 
the  more  confidently  of  that,  for  I  am  one  ot 
those  who  have  a  real  interest  in  it,  and  a 
firm  belief  of  it,  a  partaker  of  the  glory  that 
shall  be  revealed.  And  these,  indeed,  are  the 
things  which  give  weight  to  a  man's  words, 
make  them  powerful  and  pressing. 

A  witness  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ.  The 
apostles  had  a  singular  advantage  in  this, 
who  were  'f'Tmrai,  eyewitnesses ;  and  St.  Paul, 
who  wanted  that,  had  it  supplied  by  a  vision 
of  Christ,  in  his  conversion.  A  spiritual  viev 
of  Christ  crucified,  is  generally,  I  will  not  say 
absolutely,  necessary  to  make  a  minister  of 
Christ,  but  certainly  very  requisiie  (or  tin.'  due 
witnessing  of  him,  and  the  displaying  of  the 
excellency  and  virtue  of  liis  sufferings,  and  for 
so  preaching  the  gospel  that  there  shall  need 
no  other  crucifix  ;*  after  so  clear  and  lively  a 
way,  as  that  it  may  in  some  measure  suit  the 

•  Alliidirif?  to  the  custom  of  m.itiy  popisli  preachers 
to  carry  :i  Itttle  crucifix  into  the  pulpit  with  thorn. — 
Dr.  Doddhidge. 


t 


330 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Of 


apostle's  word.  Gal.  iii.  1 :  Brforc  u-hose  eyes 
Jesus  C/irist  hath  been  evidenlhj  scl  forth  cm- 
Cijied  anions  you. 

Men  cuiiunoiily  read,  and  hear,  and  may 
possilily  iiieaeli,  of"  the  siifferinsis  of  Christ  as 
a  comiiiou  siory,  and  in  ihat  way  it  may  a  lit- 
tle move  a  man,  and  wrins;  tears  from  his 
eyes.  But  faith  hath  another  kind  of  siffht 
of  them,  and  so  works  itnother  kind  of  alfcc- 
tions  :  and  without  that,  the  very  eyesifrht  of 
them  had  availed  the  apostles  nothin<^  ;  for 
liow  many  saw  him  suffer  as  they  did,  who 
reviled,  or  at  least  desjiised  him  !  But  hy  the 
eye  of  faith  to  see  the  only  begotten  Sou  of  God, 
as  stricken  and  snuiten  of  God,  heurina:  our 
sorrows,  and  irounded  for  our  trans<:rcssrons, 
Jesus  Christ,  the  ria^hleous,  reckoned  among 
the  unriffhteous  and  malefactors  ;  to  see  him 
stripped  naked,  and  scourged,  and  bufl'eted, 
and  nailed,  and  dying;  and  all  for  us  ;  this  is 
the  thing  thai  will  hind  upon  us  most  strong- 
ly all  the  duiies  of  Christianity  and  of  our  par- 
ticular callings,  and  best  enable  us,  according 
to  our  callings,  to  bind  them  upon  others.  But 
our  slender  view  of  these  things  occasions  a 
light  sense  of  them,  and  that,  cold  incitements 
to  answerable  duly.  Certaiidy,  deep  impres- 
sions would  cause  lively  expressions. 

Would  we  willingly  stir  up  our  own  hearts 
and  one  another  to  holy  diligence  in  our  sta- 
tion, study  more  thoroughly  Christ  as  suffer- 
ing and  dying :  that  is  the  very  life  of  the  gos- 
l)el  and  of  our  souls  ;  it  is  all  we  have  to 
learn,  and  all  we  have  to  teach  and  press  on 
you.  1  determined  to  know  nollung  atnong 
you,  save  Jesvs  Christ  and  him  crucified,  to 
make  Chrisi^s  cross  the  sum  of  all  my  learn- 
ing. 

A  fartaker  of  the  glory  In  be  revealed.]  As 
he  was  a  wiines..  of  those  sufferings,  so  a  par- 
taker of  the  glory  purchased  by  those  suffer- 
ings ;  and  therefore,  as  one  insighted  and  in- 
terested in  what  he  speaks,  the  apostle  might 
fitly  speak  of  ihat  peculiar  duty  to  which 
those  sufferings  and  that  slory  do  peculiarly 
persuade.  This  is  the  only  way  of  speaking 
of  those  things,  not  as  a  discourser  or  coniem- 
plaiive  student,  but  as  a  partaker  of  them. 
There  Is  anoiliT  force  in  a  pastor's  exhoria- 
tion  either  to  his  people  or  his  brethren,  who 
brings  his  message  written  upon  his  own 
heart  :  who  speaks  of  the  guilt  of  sin,  and  the 
sufl'erin<rs  of  Christ  for  it,  as  particularly  feel- 
ing his  own  guilt,  and  lookiniron  those  suffer- 
ings as  taking  it  away  ;  speaks  of  free  grace 
as  one  who  either  hath  drunken  of  the  refresh- 
ing streams  of  it,  at  least  is  earnestly  thirsting 
after  it ;  sneaks  of  the  love  of  Christ,  from  a 
heart  kindled  with  it,  and  of  the  glory  to 
iome,  as  one  who  looks  to  be  a  sharer  in  it, 
and  longs  earnestly  for  it,  as  one  who  hath 
all  his  joy  and  content  laid  up  in  the  hopes 
of  it. 

And  thus  with  respect  to  Christians  con- 
yersmg  with  each  other  in  their  muiual  ex- 
horiings  and  comfbrlings,  all  is  cold  and  dead 
that  flows  not  from  some  inward  persuasion 


and  experimental  knowledge  of  Divine  things 
Bui  that  gives  an  edge  and  a  sweetness  to 
Christian  conference:  to  be  s])eaking  of  Jesiij 
Christ,  not  only  as  a  King  and  as  a  Redeem- 
er, but  as  their  King,  and  Redeemer,  in 
David's  style.  My  King  and  my  Cod,  and  of 
his  sufferings  as  theirs,  api)lied  by  faith,  and 
acquitting  them  in  Si.  Paul's  style,  Who  lored 
me  and  gace  himself  for  me  ;  to  be  speaking 
of  the  glory  to  come  as  the/r  inheritance,  that 
of  which  they  are  partakers,  their  home  ;  as 
strangers  meeting  together  abroad,  in  some 
foreign  country,  delight  to  speak  of  their  own 
land,  their  parentage  atid  friends,  and  the  rich 
patrimony  ihere  abiding  them.  Pcregrinis 
in  terns  nulla  est  jucuridior  recordat lo  fjuam 
sum  civitatis:  "Nothing  is  more  delightful," 
says  Augustine,  "  to  travellers  in  distant 
countries,  than  the  remembrance  of  their  na- 
tive land."  And  this  ought  to  be  the  enier- 
taiiunent  of  Christians  when  they  meet.  Away 
with  trifling,  vain  discourses  ;  cause  all  to  give 
place  to  these  refreshing  remembrances  of 
our  home.  Were  our  hearts  much  on  that 
rich  inheritance  above,  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble to  refrain  our  tongues,  and  to  pass  on  so 
silent  concerning  it  ;  to  find  matter  of  empty 
pratings,  and  be  pleased  with  them,  and  to 
have  no  relish  of  this.  Whither  go  youi 
hearts?  They  are  out  of  their  way,  and 
abase  themselves,  that  turn  so  much  down- 
ward, and  are  not  more  above  the  sun,  eying 
still  that  blessed  land  where  our  purchased 
inheritance  lies. 

Oh,  seek  after  more  clear  knowledge  of 
ihis  glory,  and  of  your  interest  in  it,  that  your 
hearts  may  rejoice  in  the  remembrance  of  it  ; 
that  it  be  not  to  you  as  the  (lescri|)tion  of  a 
pleasant  land,  such  as  men  read  of  in  history, 
and  have  no  portion  in  :  they  like  it  \yell,  and 
are  pleased  with  it  while  they  read,  be  it  but 
some  imagined  country  or  commonwealth 
finely  fancied.  But  know  this  country  of 
yours  to  be  real,  and  no  device  ;  and  seek  to 
know  yourselves  to  be  partakers  of  it. 

This  confidence  depends  not  upon  a  singu- 
lar  revelation,  but  on  the  power  of  faith,  and 
the  light  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  which  clears  to 
his  children  the  things  that  he  hath  freely 
given  them  ;  though  some  of  them  at  limes, 
some,  it  may  be,  all,  or  most  of  their  time,  do 
want  it,  God  so  disposing  it,  that  they  scarce- 
ly clearly  see  their  right,  till  they  be  in  pos- 
session ;  see  not  their  heaven  and  home,  till 
they  arrive  at  it,  or  are  hard  upon  it.  Yet, 
truly,  this  we  may  and  ought  to  soek  after  in 
humility  and  submission,  that  we  may  have 
the  fyled  ij^e  and  earnest  of  our  inheritance  ; 
j  not  so  much  for  the  comfort  within  us  (though 
I  that  is  allowed),  as  that  it  may  wean  our 
'  hearts  from  things  below,  may  raise  us  to 
higher  and  closer  communion  with  God,  and 
j  enable  us  more  for  his  service,  and  excite  us 
'  more  to  his  praises,  even  here.    What  were 
a  Christian  without  the  hope  of  this  glory  ? 
As  one  said,  Tolle  religionem,  el  nullus  eris  : 
Take  away  religion,  and  you  lake  away  the 


Ver.  2— 4.J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


331 


man.  And,  havin?  this  hojie,  what  are  all 
thinsfs  here  to  him  ?  How  poor  and  despica- 
ble the  hetrer  and  worse  of  this  life,  and  this 
life  itself!  How  glad  is  he  that  it  will  (juick- 
Iv  eud  !  And  wliat  were  the  lenirih  of  it  to 
liirn,  but  a  long  continuance  of  his  banish- 
ment, a  long  detainment  from  his  home,  and 
how  sweet  is  the  message  that  is  sent  for  him 
to  come  home ! 

The  sJory  to  he  revealed  !  It  is  hidden  for 
the  present,  wholly  unknown  to  tiie  children 
of  this  world,  and  even  but  little  known  io 
the  children  of  God,  who  are  heirs  of  it.  Yea, 
they  who  know  themselves  partakers  of  it, 
yet  know  not  much  what  it  is  :  only  this,  that 
it  is  above  all  they  know  or  can  imagine. 
They  may  see  things  which  make  a  great 
show  here  ;  they  may  hear  of  more  than  they 
see  ;  they  may  think  or  imagine  more  than 
either  they  hear  or  see,  or  can  distinctly  con- 
ceive of;  but  siill  they  must  think  of  this 
glory  as  beyond  it  all.  If  I  see  pompous 
shows,  or  read  or  hear  of  them,  yet  this  I  say 
of  them,  "  These  are  not  as  my  inheritance  : 
oh  !  it  is  far  beyond  them."  Yea,  does  my 
mind  imagine  things  far  beyond  them,  golden 
mountains  and  marble  palaces,  yet  those  fall 
short  of  my  inheritance,  for  it  is  such  as  eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  hath  it  en- 
tered into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive.  Oh, 
the  brightness  of  that  glory  when  it  shall  be 
revealed  I  How  shall  they  be  astonished,  who 
shall  see  it,  and  not  partake  of  it !  How  shall 
they  be  filled  with  everlasting  joy,  who  are 
heirs  of  it !  Were  the  heart  mucii  U])on  the 
thoughts  of  that  glory,  what  ihiiii:  is  there  in 
this  perishing  world,  which  could  eiiher  lift 
It  up  or  cast  it  down  ? 

Ver.  2.  FVcd  the  flock  of  Cod  which  is  among'  you, 
takiti!^  Ih'-  ovf  r-sifjfil  tliercof,  not  \>y  constr:iintj  tmt 
wilJin^^ly  ;  not  IVir  filtliy  lucre,  but  of  n  ready  mind. 

Ver.  3.  Neither  as  heinij  lords  over  God's  heritage, 
but  beinjj  ensarnples  to  the  flnck. 

Ver.  4.  And  when  the  Chief  Shepherd  shall  appear, 
ye  shall  receive  a  crown  of  glor^  thai  fadeth  not 
away. 

In  these  words  we  have,  I.  The  duty  en- 
joined :  Feed  the  JJock  of  God  which  isamon<r 
ynii,  taking-  the  ovirsighl  of  it.  II.  The  due 
qualifications  f  .r  this  duty  :  Not  hy  constraint, 
not  for  filthy  lucre,  not  as  lording  it  over 
God\s  hcritai^e,  hut  wil/in^-ly,  of  a  ready 
mind,  and  as  hein:^  ensamjiles  to  the  flo'k. 
III.  The  high  advantage  to  be  expected:  An 
unfadin-r  crown  of  glory,  when  the  Chief 
iShejiherd  shall  appear. 

I.  The  duty  enjoined.  Every  step  of  the 
way  of  our  salvation  hath  on  it  the  print  of 
mfinite  majesty,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  and 
lliis  among  the  rest  :  that  men,  sinful,  weak 
men,  are  made  subservient  in  that  great  work 
of  briiiiririg  Christ  and  sciu.s  to  meet  ;  that  by 
t\ie  fiiii/ishnf ss  of  jiieachnii^  {or  what  appears 
So  to  carnal  wisdom),  the  chosen  of  (Jod  are 
cal  '(].  and  come  unto  Jesus,  and  are  made 
wtae  unto  salvalmn  ;  and  that  the  life  which 
lb  Conveyed  to  iheiu  by  the  word  of  life  in  the 


hands  of  poor  men,  is  by  the  same  means  pre- 
served and  advanced.  This  is  the  standing 
work  of  the  ministry,  and  this  the  thing  lurh 
bound  upon  them  that  are  employed  in  it,  to 
feed  the  flock  of  God  that  is  among  them.  Je- 
sus Ciirist  descended  to  purchase  a  church, 
and  descended  to  provide  and  furnish  it,  to 
send  down  his  Spirit :  He  ascended  and  >.  ire 
unfits,  particularly  for  the  work  of  the  nai.is- 
try  ;  and  the  great  use  of  them  is  this,  fittd 
the  fuck  ofi  God. 

Not  to  say  any  more  of  this  usual  resem- 
blance  of  a  flock,  as  importing  the  weakness 
and  tenderness  of  the  church,  the  continual 
need  she  stands  in  of  inspection,  and  guidance, 
and  defence,  and  the  tender  care  of  the  Chief 
Shepherd  for  these  things,  the  phrase  enforces 
the  present  duty  of  subordinate  pastors,  their 
care  and  dili<rence  in  feeding  that  flock.  The 
due  rule  of  discipline  not  excluded,  the  main 
jmrt  of  this  duty  is,  by  doctrine,  the  leading 
them  into  the  wholesome  and  gretn  pastures 
of  saving  truths  revealed  in  the  gospel,  ac- 
commodating the  way  of  teaciiing  to  their 
condition  and  capacity  ;  and  with  this  they 
should  be,  as  much  as  possible,  particularly 
acquainted,  and  suit  diligently  and  prudently 
their  doctrine  to  it.  They  are  to  fieed  the 
5^ee;),  those  more  advanced  ;  to  feed  the  lambs, 
the  younger  and  weaker  ;  to  have  special  care 
of  the  infirm  :  to  learn  of  their  Master,  the 
great  Shej)herd,  to  hind  vp  that  which  is 
hrokcii,  and  strengthen  that  which  is  sick 
i  (Ezek.  xxxiv.  16) — those  that  are  broken  in 
'spirit,  that  are  exercised  with  leir.j)tatiuns ; 
j  and  gently  to  lead  those  that  arc  with  young 
J  (Isa.  xl.  11) — those  in  whom  the  inward  work 
of  grace  is  as  in  the  conception,  and  they 
heavy  and  weak  with  the  weight  of  it,  and 
the  many  difhculties  and  doublings  which  are 
frequent  companions  and  symptoms  of  that 
Avork.  Oh,  what  dexterity  and  skilfulness, 
what  diligence,  and,  above  all,  what  alTection 
and  bowels  of  compassion,  are  needful  for  this 
task  !  Who  is  sufficient  fior  these  things  ?  2 
Cor.  ii.  16.  Who  would  not  faint  and  give 
over  in  it,  were  not  our  Lord  the  Chief  Shep- 
herd ;  were  not  all  our  sufficiency  laid  up  in 
his  rich  fulness,  and  all  our  insuflicieiicy  cov- 
ered in  his  gracious  accejjtance  ? 

Infi.  1.  This  is  the  thing  we  have  to  eye 
and  study,  to  set  him  before  us,  aiid  to  apjjij 
ourselves  in  his  strength  to  this  work  :  not  to 
seek  to  please,  but  to  fieel  ;  not  to  delight  the 
ears,  but  to  feed  the  souls  of  his  people  ;  to 
see  that  the  food  be  according  to  his  appoint- 
ment ;  not  em[)ty  or  subtile  notions,  not  light 
affected  expressions,  but  wholesume  truths, 
solid  food,  spiritual  things  spiritually  con- 
ceived, and  uttered  with  holy  understanding 
and  affection. 

And  we  are  to  consider  this,  wherein  lies 
a  very  pressing  motive  ;  it  is  the  flock  of 
God  :  not  our  own,  to  use  as  we  please,  but 
committed  to  our  custody  by  him,  who  loves 
highly  and  prizes  his  flock,  and  will  require 
an  account  of  us  coi;cerning  it  ;  his  bought. 


332 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[ChKT.  V 


nia  purchased  flock,  and  at  so  dear  a  rate, 
as  t'le  api  stk' St.  Paul  uses  this  same  con- 
sidt'raiiou,  in  llie  same  argurnenl.  Acts  xx. 
28  T/ie  flock  of  God  that  hv  hath  houirhl 
ivith  his  own  blood.  How  reasonable  is  it 
tliat  we  bestow  our  streiii;tli  and  liie  on  that 
flock  for  wliich  our  Lord  laid  down  his  life  ; 
that  we  be  ruost  ready  to  draw  out  our  spirits 
lor  them  I'or  whom' he  let  out  his  blood! 
Had  I,  says  that  holy  man,  Bernard,  som':  of 
that  Mood  poured  forth  on  the  cross,  how 
carefully  would  I  carry  it  !  And  ouirkt  I 
not  to  he  as  careful  of  those  souls  that  it  was 
sited  for  ?  (Advent,  Serm.  3.)  Oh,  that  price 
which  was  paid  for  souls,  which  he,  who 
was  no  foolish  merchant,  but  wisdom  itself, 
gave  for  them  I  Were  that  price  more  in  our 
eyes,  and  more  in  yours,  nothina:  wouid  so 
much  take  either  you  or  us,  as  the  matter  of 
our  souls.  In  this  would  our  desires  and  en- 
deavors meet,  we  to  use,  and  you  to  improve, 
the  means  of  saving  your  precious  souls. 

Inf.  2.  This  mainly  concerns  us  indeed, 
who  have  charge  of  manv,  especially  finding 
the  right  cure  of  one  soul  within  us  so  hardi 
but  you  are  concerned  in  it,  each  for  one.  At 
least  remember,  this  is  the  end  of  the  min- 
istry, that  you  may  be  brought  unto  Christ; 
that  you  may  be  led  to  the  sweet  pastures 
a.nd  pleasant  streams  of  the  gospel :  that  you 
may  be  spiritually  fed,  and  mavgrow  in  that 
heavenly  life,  which  is  here' begun  in  all 
those  m  whom  it  shall  hereafter  be  perfected. 

Aiid  as  we  ought  in  preaching,  so  ought 
you  m  hearing,  to  propound  this  end  to  yolir- 
selves,  that  you  may  be  spiritually  refreshed 
and  walk  in  the  strength  of  that  divine  nourl 
ishmen*:.  Is  this  your  purpose  when  you 
come  hither?  Inquire  of  your  own  hearts, 
and  see  what  you  seek,  aiid  what  vou  find, 
m  the  public  ordinances  of  God's  house.  Cer- 
tainly, the  most  do  not  so  much  as  think  on 
the  due  design  of  them;  they  aim  at  no  end, 
and  therefore  can  attain  none ;  they  seek 
nothing,  but  sit  out  their  hour,  asl'eep  or 
awake,  as  it  mav  happen.  Or.  possibly, 
some  seek  to  be  delighted  for  the  time,  as 
the  Lord  tells  the  prophet,  to  hear,  as  it  ivere, 
a  pleasant  sonir,  E/ek.  xxxiii.  32,  if  the  gifts 
and  strain  of  the  speaker  be  anything  pfeas- 
Ing.  Or,  it  rmiy  be,  they  seek  'to  gahi  some 
new  notions,  to  add  somewhat  to  their  stock 
of  knowledge,  either  that  they  may  be  en- 
abled for  discourse,  or,  simply,  that  tibey  may 
knowr.  Some,  it  may  be,  go' a  little  fu'rther  ; 
they  like  to  be  stirred  and  moved  for  the  time, 
and  to  have  some  touch  of  good  affection 
kindled  in  them  :  but  this  lasts  but  for  a 
while,  till  their  other  thoughts  and  affairs  get 
in,  and  smother  and  quench  it  :  they  are  not 
careful  to  blow  it  up  and  improve  it.  How 
many,  when  they  have  been  a  little  affected 
with  the  word,  go  out  and  fall  into  other  dis- 
courses and  thousrhts:  they  either  take  in 
their  adairs  secretly,  as  it  were  under  their 
cloak,  and  their  hearts  keep  up  a  conference 
with  them,  or,  if  they  forbear  this,  yet,  as 


I  soon  as  they  go  out,  they  plur.ge  thernselvet 
1  over  head  and  ears  in  the  worlil,  and  lose  al. 
I  which  might  have  any  way  advantaged  their 
spiritual  condition.  It  may  be,  one  will  say, 
It  was  a  good  sermon.  Is  that  to  the  pur- 
pose ?  But  what  think  you  it  hath  for  your 
praise  or  dispraise  ?  Instead  of  sayin?.  Oh, 
how  well  was  that  spoken  !  you  should  say, 
Oh,  bow  hard  is  repentance!  how  sweet  a 
thing  is  faith  !  how  excellent  the  love  of  Je- 
sus Christ  !  That  were  your  best  and  most 
real  commendation  of  the  sermon,  with  true 
benefit  to  yourselves. 

If  some  of  you  be  careful  of  repeating,  yet, 
rest  not  on  that  ;  if  yoij  be  able  to  si)eak  of 
it  afterward  upon  occasion,  there  is  some- 
what requisite  beside  and  beyond  this,  to  ev- 
idence that  you  are  indeed  fed  by  the  word, 
as  the  flock  of  God.  As  when  sheep,  you 
know,  or  other  creatures,  are  nourished  by 
their  pasture,  the  food  they  have  eaten  ap- 
pears not  in  the  same  fashion  upon  them,  not 
in  grass,  but  in  growth  of  flesh  and  fleece  ; 
thus  the  word  would  truly  appear  to  feed 
you,  not  by  the  bare  discoursing  of  the  word 
over  again,  but  by  the  temper  of  your  spirits 
and  actions,  if  in  them  you  really  grow  more 
spiritual,  if  humility,  self-denial,  charity,^nd 
holiness,  are  increased  in  you  by  it ;  other- 
wise, whatsoever  literal  knowledge  you  at- 
tain, it  avails  you  nothing.  Though  you 
heard  many  sermons  every  day,  and  attained 
further  light  by  them,  and  carried  a  plausible 
profession  of  religion,  yet,  unless  by  the  gos 
pel  you  be  transformed  into  the  likeness  of 
Christ,  and  grace  be  indeed  growing  in  you 
you  are  but,  as  one  says  of  the  cypress-trees 
fair  and  tall,  but  fruitless.* 

Are  you  not  grieved  and  afraid,  or  may  nc 
many  of  you  be  so,  who  have  lived  many 
years  under  a  fruitful  ministry,  and  yet  are 
as  earthly  and  selfish,  as  unacquainted  with 
God  ami  his  ways,  as  at  the  first  ?  Consider 
this,  that  as  the  neglect  of  souls  will  lie 
heavy  on  unholy  or  negligent  ministers,  so,  a 
great  many  souls  are  ruining  themselves  un- 
der some  measure  of  fit  means,  and  the  slight- 
ing of  those  means  will  make  their  condition 
far  heavier  than  that  of  many  others.  Re- 
member our  Savior's  word  :  Wo  to  thee, 
Chorazin!  Wo  unto  thee,  Bethsaida!  It 
shall  he  more  tolerable  for  Ty^e  and  Sidnnin 
the  day  of  judgment  than  for  you.  Matt, 
xi.  21. 

II.  The  discharge  of  this  high  task  we 
have  here  duly  qualified  :  the  apostle  expres- 
ses  the  upright  way  to  it,  both  negatively 
and  positively. 

There  be  three  evils  the  apostle  would  re- 
move from  this  work,  constrainedness,  covet' 
ousness.  and  arnhitivn,  as  opposed  to  willing- 
nes.i,  a  ready  mind,  and  an  exemplary  temper 
and  behavior. 

I.  We  are  cautioned  against  constrained- 
ness, /f  ii'.iyoi'rr,;.. ;  against  being  driven  to  the 
work  by  necessity,  indigence,  and  wsfnt  of 


Vek.  2—4.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


333 


employment  or  subsistence,  as  it  is  witli  too 
many,  inaKin^  a  trade  of  it  to  live  by,  and 
seiiuig  to  it  as  to  any  other  calling  for  that 
end  ;  yea,  making  it  the  refuge  and  forlorn 
resource  of  their  insufficiency  for  other  cal- 
lings. And  as  men  are  not  to  undertake  the 
work,  driven  to  it  by  thai  hard  weapon  of 
necessity,  so,  being  engaged  in  it,  they  are 
not  to  discharge  the  duties  of  it  merely  upon 
necessity,  because  of  fines  binding  to  it,  or 
for  fear  of  censure:  this  is  a  violent  forced 
motion  and  can  not  but  be  both  very  unpleas- 
ant and  unprofitable,  as  to  the  proper  end  and 
profiting  of  this  work.  And  as  the  principle 
of  the  motion  in  this  service  should  not  be  a 
compelling  necessity  of  any  kind,  but  true 
willingness  of  heart,  so  this  willingness 
should  not  arise  from  anything  but  pure  af- 
fection to  the  work. 

2.  Not /or  filthy  gain,  but  purely  from  the 
inward  bent  of  the  mind.  As  it  should  not 
be  a  compulsive  or  violent  motion  by  neces- 
sity from  without,  so  it  should  not  be  an  arti- 
ficial motion  by  weights  hung  on  within — 
avarice  and  love  of  gain.  The  former  were 
a  wheel,  driven  or  drawn,  going  by  force  ; 
the  latter,  little  better,  as  a  clock  made  to  go 
by  art,  by  weights  hung  to  it.  But  there 
should  be  a  natural  motion,  like  that  of  the 
heavens  in  their  course.  A  willing  obedi- 
ence to  the  Spirit  of  God  within,  moving  a 
man  in  every  part  of  this  holy  work,  that  is, 
rpiOvii  .tf.  his  mind  carried  to  it  as  the  thing  he 
delights  in,  and  in  which  he  loves  to  be  ex- 
ercised. So,  Timothv  careth  yi'/^i'.'s  not  arti- 
ficially, but  naturally.  Phil.  ii.  20.  There 
may  be  m  a  faithful  pastor  very  great  reluc- 
tance in  eiiga<ring  and  adhering  to  the  work, 
ujjon  a  sense  of  the  excellency  of  it  and  his 
own  unfitness,  and  the  deep  apprehension  of 
those  high  interests,  the  glory  of  God,  and 
tne  salvation  of  souls  ;  and  yet,  he  may  enter 
into  it,  and  continue  in  it,  with  this  readiness 
of  mind  too;  that  is,  with  most  single  and 
earnest  desires  of  doing  all  he  can  for  God, 
and  >he  fock  of  God  ;  only  grieved  that 
there  is  in  him  so  little  suitableness  of  heart, 
so  little  holiness  and  accjuaintance  with  Gf>d 
for  enabling  him  to  it.  But  might  he  find 
that,  ho  were  satisfied  ;  and  in  expectation 
of  that,  he  goes  on,  and  waits,  and  is  doing 
according  to  his  little  skill  and  strength,  and 
can  not  leave  it.  He  is  constrained  indeed, 
but  all  the  constraint  is  that  of  love  to  Jesus, 
and,  for  his  sake,  to  the  souls  he  hath  bought 
(2  Cor.  V.  14)  :  and  all  the  gain  sought,  is? to 
gam  souls  lo  Christ  ;  which  is  firr  different 
from  the  constraint  and  the  gain  here  prohib- 
ited :  yea,  this  is  indeed  that  very  willing- 
ness and  readiness  of  mind  which  is  opposed 
lo  that  other  constraint.  That  is  without; 
this  is  within:  that  other  gain,  is  base  filthy 
gain,  lli^(n■,K;„^ni■.  this  noble  and  divine. 

Inf.  1.  Far  be  it  from  us,  that  necessity 
and  constraint  should  be  the  thing  that  moves 
us  in  so  holy  a  work.  The  Lord  whom  we 
»erve,  sees  luio  the  heart,  and  if  he  did  not 


I  that  primarily  moving,  accounts  all  our  dili- 
I  gence  nothing.  And  let  not  base  earth  within 
j  be  the  cause  of  our  willingness,  but  a  mind 
!  touched  with  heaven.    It  is  true,  the  tenip- 
j  tations  of  earth  with  us,  in  the  matter  of 
gain,  are  not  great ;  but  yet,  the  heart  may 
I  cleave  to  them,  as  much  as  if  they  were 
;  much  greater,  and  if  it  do  cleave  to  them, 
:  they  shall  ruin  us  ;  as  well  a  poor  stipend 
and  glebe,  if  the  affection  be  upon  them,  as  a 
I  great  deanery  or  bishopric.     If  a  man  fall 
into  it,  he  may  drown  in  a  small  brook,  being 
under  water,  as  well  as  in  the  great  ocean. 
Oh,  the  little  time  that  remains!    Let  us 
join  our  desires  and  endeavors  in  this  work, 
bend  our  united  strength  to  serve  him,  that 
we  may  have  joy  in  that  day  of  reckoning. 

And,  indeed,  there  is  nothing  moves  us  • 
aright,  nor  shall  we  ever  find  comfort  in  this 
service,  unless  it  be  from  a  cheerful  inward 
readiness  of  mind,  and  that  from  the  love  of 
Christ.  Thus  said  he  to  his  apostle,  Lovest 
thou  me  ?  Then  feed  my  sheep  and  feed  my 
lambs.  John  xxi.  16.  Love  to  Christ  begets 
love  to  his  people's  souls,  which  arc  so  pre- 
cious to  him,  and  a  care  of  feeding  them.  He 
devolves  the  working  of  love  toward  him, 
upon  his  flock,  for  their  good,  puts  them  in 
his  room,  to  receive  the  benefit  of  our  servi- 
ces, which  can  not  reach  him  considered  in 
himself:  he  can  receive  no  other  profit  from 
it.  Love,  much  love,  gives  much  unwearied 
care  and  much  skill  in  this  charge.  How 
sweet  is  it  to  bun  that  loves,  to  bestow  him- 
self, to  spend  and  be  spent,  upon  his  service 
whom  he  loves  I  Jacob,  in  the  saine  kind  ot 
service,  endured  all  that  was  im[)()sed  upon 
him,  and  found  it  light  by  reason  of  love,  the 
cold  of  the  nights,  and  heat  of  the  days:  sev- 
en years  he  served  for  his  Rachel,  and  they 
seemed  to  him  but  a  few  days,  because  he 
loved  her.    Gen.  xxix.  20. 

Love  is  the  great  endowment  of  a  shepherd 
of  Christ's  flock.  He  says  not  to  Peter,  Art 
thou  wise,  or  learned,  or  eloquent  ?  but,  Lov- 
est thou  me  ?    Then  feed  mi/  sheep. 

3.  The  third  evil  is  ambition,  and  that  is 
either  in  the  affecting  of  undue  authority,  or 
the  ovi  rstrained  and  tyrannical  exercise  of 
due  authority,  or  to  seek  those  dignities  that 
suit  not  with  this  charge,  which  is  not  do- 
minium, but  nunisteriuin.  This  temper,  there- 
fore, is  forbidden,  Luke  xxii.  2.5,  ytj :  The 
kings  of  the  (ientiles  exercise  lordship  over 
them,  but  ye  shall  not  he  so.  There  is  a  min- 
isterial authority  to  be  used  in  discipline,  and 
more  sharpness  with  some  than  with  others; 
but  still,  lowliness  and  moderation  must  be 
predominant,  and  not  domineering  with  rig- 
or ;  rather  being  examples  to  the  Hock  in  all 
holiness,  and  especially  in  humility  and  meek- 
ness, wherein  our  Lord  Jesus  j)articularly  pro- 
pounds his  own  exami)le  :  Learnof  me,  for  I 
am  meek  and  lovly  of  heart. 

But  being  ensamples.]  Such  a  pattern  as 
they  may  stanij)  and  print  their  s|)irits  and 
carriage  by,  and  be  followers  of  you,  as  you 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


fCnAI'.  V 


arc  of  C  hrist.  Ami  without  tliis  tlierp  is  lit- 
tle or  no  tVuilfu!  iircurhiui"-.  W'oll  says  Nazi- 
anztn,  Either  Itiich  not,  or  tench  liy  livi/tg. 
i>o  thu  apostle  exhortelh  Timothy  to  be  an  cx- 
aitiplc  in  iriird,  hut  withal  i?i  conversation. 
1  Tim.  iv.  12.  That  is  ri'T,,,,  the  best  printed 
cojiy. 

Hut  this  pares  off,  will  some  think,  all  en- 
couragements of  learnin? ;  leaves  no  advan- 
tage, no  respect,  or  authority.  Oh,  no:  it 
removes  poor  wortiiless  encouragements  out 
ot  llie  way,  to  maiie  place  for  one  great  one 
that  is  sutiicient,  which  ail  the  others  togeiher 
are  not. 

•111.  The  liigii  advantage:  And  when  the 
chief  Shepherd  sliall  appear,  ye  shall  receive 
a  crown  of  i^lort/  which  fadeth  not  away. 
Thou  shait  ^ose  nothing  by  ail  that  re-' 
straint  I'rom  base  gain,  and  vain  glorv,  anu 
worldly  power.  No  matter,  let  them  all  go 
for  CI  crown:  that  weighs  them  all  down; 
that  shall  abide  for  ever.  Oh,  how  far  more 
excellent !  A  crown  of  glory,  pure,  unmixed 
glory,  -without  any  iiigrediency  of  pride  or 
sinful  vanity,  or  any  danger  of  it.  And  a 
crown  that  fiidi'th  not,  a.^ou-,.-  of  such  a 
flower  as  withers  not:  not  a  temporary  gar- 
land of  fading  flowers,  such  as  all  here  are. 
Wo  to  the  crown  of  pride,  sa.ys  the  proph- 
et, Isaiah  xxviii.  1.  Though  it  be  made 
of  flowers  growing  in  a  fat  valley,  yet,  their 
glorious  beauty  is  a  fading  flower ;  but  this 
will  remain  fresh  and  in  perfect  lustre  to  all 
eternity.  May  they  not  well  trample  on 
base  gain  and  vain  applause,  who  have  this 
Crown  to  look  to?  'i'liey  that  will  be  con- 
lent  with  those,  let  them  be;  but  they  have 
'hf  ir  reward ,  and  it  is  done  and  gone,  when 
faithful  followers  are  to  receive  theirs.  Joys 
of  royal  pomp,  marriages  and  feasts,  how 
soon  do  they  vanish  as  a  dream  I  That  of 
Ahasiierus  lasted  about  half  a  year,  but  then 
it  ended  !  And  how  many  since  that  are  gone 
and  forgotten!  But  this  day  begins  a  tri- 
umph and  a  feast,  that  shall  never  either  end 
or  weary,  affording  still  fresh,  ever  new  de- 
lights. All  things  here,  the  choicest  pleas- 
ures, cloy,  hut  satisfy  not:  those  above  shall 
always  satisfy,  and  never  cloy.  When  the 
chief  Shepherd  shall  appear.  And  that  shall 
sliorilybe:  this  moment  will  shortly  out. 

What  is  to  be  refused  in  the  way  to  .'his 
crown  ?  All  labor  is  sweet  for  it.  And  what 
is  there  here  to  be  desired  to  detain  our 
hearts  that  we  should  not  most  willingly  let 
fo,  to  rest  from  our  labors,  and  receive  our 
t'Own''  Was  ever  any  king  sad  to  think 
that  t'.,e  day  of  his  coronation  drew  nigh? 
And  then,  there  will  be  no  envy,  nor  jealous- 
:es:  all  will  be  kings,  each  with  his  crown, 
each  rejoicing  in  the  glory  of  the  others,  and 
all  in  His,  who  that  day  shall  be  all  in  all. 

Ver.  b.  I.ikowisc,  ye  yonncrcr,  siilitnit  yoiirsrlvps 
CO  the  elder,  yea,  alJ  of  you  be  siiliirct  one  tn  an- 
other,  iiiid  be  clnlbeii  willi  ImmUity  :  for  Cm\  re- 
sistolli  the  jiroiid,  and  givelli  t^race  tn  the  hiimlile. 

Sm  hath  disordered  a  I  ;  so  that  nothing  is 


to  be  found  but  distemper  and  crookedness  ii 
the  condition  and  ways  ol'  men  toward  God, 
and  toward  one  another,  till  a  new  Spirit 
come  in  and  rectify  all.  And  very  much  of 
that  redress  lies  in  this  particular  grace  of 
humility,  here  recommended  by  the  apostle. 

That  grace  regulates  the  ctirriage,  1.  Of 
the  younger  toward  the  elder.  2.  Of  ail 
men  one  to  another.    3.  Of  all  toward  God. 

l.v<.  The  yoiin<;cr  arc  to  he  subject  to  the 
cider.  Which  1  lake  so  to  refer  to  difl'erence 
of  years,  that  it  hath  some  as])ect  likewise  to 
the  relation  of  thcjse  that  are  under  the  disci- 
pline and  government  of  ihe  ciders,  ^ii':afi  Ttmi, 
who,  though  not  always  such  in  years,  ouffht, 
however,  to  silit  that  name  in  exemplary 
gravity  and  wisdom.  It  is  no  seigniory,  but 
a  ministry  ;  yet,  there  is  a  sacred  authority 
in  it.  when  riahtlv  carried,  which  both  duly 
challenges,  and  efl'ectually  commands  that 
respect  and  obedience  which  is  fit  for  the 
rigiit  order  and  governmeni  of  the  house  of 
God. 

The  Spirit  of  Christ  m  his  ministers,  is 
the  thing  that  makes  them  truly  elders,  and 
truly  worthy  of  double  honor;  and  without 
that,  men  may  hunt  after  respect  and  credit 
by  other  parts,  and  the  more  they  follow  it, 
the  faster  it  flies  from  them  :  or,  if  they  catch 
anything  of  it,  they  only  grasp  a  shadow. 

Infer.  Learn,  you  my  brethren,  that  obedi- 
ence which  is  due  to  the  discipline  of  God's 
house.  This  is  all  we  plead  for  in  this  point. 
And  know,  if  you  refuse  it,  and  despise  the 
ordinance  of  God,  he  will  resent  the  indig- 
nity as  done  to  himself.  And  Oh,  that  all 
who  have  that  charge  of  his  house  upon 
them,  would  mind  bis  interest  wholly,  and 
not  rise  in  conceit  of  their  jiower,  hut  wholly 
employ  and  improve  it  for  their  Lord  and 
Master,  and  look  on  no  respect  paid  to  them-, 
selves  as  for  its  own  sake  desirable,  but  only 
so  far  as  is  needful  for  the  profitable  dis- 
charge and  advancement  of  his  work  in  their 
hands !  What  are  human  differences  and 
regards  ?  How  empty  a  vapor  !  And  what- 
soever it  is,  nothing  is  lost  by  single  and  en- 
tire love  of  our  Lord's  glory,  and  total  aiming 
at  that.  Them  that  honor  hi/n,  he  will  hon- 
or ;  and  those  that  despise  him,  shall  be  de- 
spised.   1  Safn.  ii.  30. 

But  though  this  [likewise]  implies,  T  con- 
ceive, somewhat  relative  to  the  former  sub- 
ject, yet,  certainly,  its  full  sc(<pe  is  more  ex- 
tensive, and  directs  us,  touching  the  differ- 
ence of  years,  to  yield  the  subjection,  that  is, 
the  respect  and  reverence  wKich  is  due  from 
younger  to  elder  persons. 

The  presumption  and  unbridleness  of  youth 
require  the  pressing  and  binding  on  of  this 
rule.  And  it  is  of  undeniable  equity,  even 
written  in  nature,  as  due  to  aged  persons. 
But,  doubtless,  those  reap  this  due  fruit  in 
that  season  the  most,  who  have  ripened  it 
most  by  the  influence  of  their  grave  and  holy 
carriage.  The  hoary  head  is  indeed  a  crown 
— but  when  ? — ivhen  found  in  the  way  oj 


Vlr.  5.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER 


335 


righteousness.  Prov.  xvi.  31.  There  it  shines 
and  liath  a  kind  of  royalty  over  youth  ;  oth- 
erwise, a  graceless  old  age  is  a  most  despica- 
ble and  lamentable  sight.  What  gains  an 
unholy  old  man  or  woman,  by  their  scores  of 
years,  but  the  more  scores  of  guiltiness  and 
misery  ?  And  their  white  hairs  speak  noth- 
ing but  ripeness  lor  wrath.  Oh  .'  to  be  ps 
a  tree  planted  in  the  house  of  the  Lord, 
bringiHii-  forth  fruit  in  old  age.  Psalm  xcii. 
12, 13.  Much  experience  in  the  ways  of  God, 
and  much  di>dain  of  the  world,  and  much 
desire  of  the  love  of  God,  a  heavenly  temper 
of  mind  and  frame  of  life;  this  is  the  advan- 
tage of  many  years.  But  to  have  seen  and 
felt  the  more  misery,  and  heaped  up  the  more 
sin,  the  greater  bundle  of  it,  against  the  day 
ofwralh,  a  woful  treasure  of  it,  threescore, 
or  threescore  and  ten  years  a  gathering,  and 
with  so  much  increase  every  day  ;  no  vaca- 
tion, no  dead  years,  no,  not  a  day  wherein  it 
was  not  growing  ;  how  deplorable  a  case  ! 

A  sacj,  reflection,  to  look  back  and  think. 
What  have  I  done  for  God  ?  and  to  find 
nothing  but  such  a  word  of  sin  committed 
agaiiii^t  him,  How  much  better  he  who  gets 
home  betimes  in  his  youth,  if  once  delivered 
from  sin  and  death,  at  one  with  God,  and 
some  way  serviceable  to  him,  or  desirin<r  to 
be  so,  and  who  hath  a  quick  voyage,  having 
lived  much  in  a  little  time  I 

2.  All  of  you  he  subject  one  to  another. 
This  yet  further  dilates  the  duty,  makes  it 
universally  rnuiual  ;  one  suhjrrA  to  nnoihr. 
This  directly  turns  bout  the  vain  contest  of  j 
men,  that  arises  Irom  the  natural  mischief  | 
of  self-love.  Every  one  would  carry  it,  and 
be  best  and  liigliesi.  The  very  company  of 
Christ,  and  bis  exemplary  lowliness,  and  t)ie 
meanness  of  himself  and  those  his  followers, 
ail  these  did  not  bar  out  this  frothy  foolish 
question,  Who  shall  he  greatest  ?  And  so  far 
it  was  disputed,  that  it  occasioned  heat  about 
it,  (7  strife  aiiinnn  ihrin.  Luke  xxii.  24.  Now, 
this  rule  is  just  op(iosite  ;  each  is  to  strive  to 
be  lowest,  suhjecl  one  to  another. 

This  doth  not  annul  either  civil  or  church 
government,  nor  those  differences  that  are 
grounded  upon  the  law  of  nature,  or  of  civil 
society  :  for  we  see  immediately  before,  that 
such  dilTerences  are  allowed,  and  the  partic- 
ular duties  of  them  recommended  :  but  it 
only  requires  that  all  due  respect,  according 
to  their  station,  be  giTen  by  each  Christian 
to  another.  And  though  there  can  not  be 
such  a  subjection  to  masters  or  parents  to 
their  servants  and  children,  as  is  duo  to  them 
from  these,  yet,  a  lowly,  meek  carrymg  of 
iheir  authority,  a  lender  respect  of  their 
youth,  the  rec^eiving  of  an  admonition  from 
therii  duly  qualified,  is  that  which  suits  with  j 
the  rule  ;  and,  in  general,  not  delighting  in 
the  trampling  on,  or  al)using  of  any,  but 
rather  seeking  the  credit  and  good  esteem  of 
all  as  our  own  ;  taking  notice  of  that  good  in 
them,  wherein  they  are  beyond  us  (for  all 
have  some  advantage,  and  none  hath  all)  : , 


and,  m  a  word  (and  it  is  the  precept  of  St. 
'  Paul,  like  this  of  our  apostle  here).  In  honor 
^  preferring  one  another,  Rom.  xii.  10,  q.  d  : 
j  Let  this  be  all  the  strife,  who  shall  put  n.osi 
I  respect  each  on  another,  according  to  the  ca- 
pacity and  station  of  every  one:  in  giving 
honor,  go  each  one  before  another. 

Now.  that  such  carriage  may  be  sincere, 
no  empty  compliment,  or  court  holy  water 
(as  they  sneak  V  but  a  part  of  the  solid  holiness 
of  a  Christian,  the  api'Sile  requires  the  true 
principle  cf  such  deportment,  the  grace  of 
humihtv,  that  a  Christian  put  on  that;  not 
the  appearance  of  it,  to  act  in  as  a  stage-gar- 
ment, but  the  truth  of  it,  as  their  constant 
habit.  Be  ye  clothed  With  humility.  It  must 
appear  \n  vour  outward  carriag'? :  so  the  re- 
semblance of  clothing  imports.  But  let  it  ap- 
pear as  really  it  is  ;  so  the  Tery  name  of  it 

imports.     It  is  not  ntxtiv  iiimvia.  h\X\.raTrci^'  i;<o  irivn; 

not  a  show  of  humilitv.  b"f  heart-lowliness. 
humility  of  rntnd. 

As  it  is  the  bent  of  humiiitv  ;o  hide  other 
graces,  so  far  as  pie'v  to  G;"i  and  our  brethren 
will  permit,  so,  it  wouh'  willingly  hide  itself; 
it  loves  not  to  appear  but  as  necessity  urges. 
Appear  it  must,  and  it  doth  somewhat  more 
api)ear  than  many  other  graces  do,  though  it 
seeks  not  to  appear.  It  is  seen  as  a  modest 
man  or  woman's  apparel,  which  they  wear 
not  for  the  end  that  it  may  be  seen  ;  they  do 
not  gaudily  Haunt  and  delisiht  in  dressing  : 
though  there  is  a  decency  as  well  as  necessity, 
which  they  do  anil  may  have  respect  to,  yet 
it  is  in  so  neat  and  unaffected  a  way,  that 
they  are  a  good  example  even  in  that  point. 
Thus,  humility  in  carriage  and  words,  is  as 
the  decorum  of  this  clothing,  but  the  main  is 
the  real  usefulness  of  it. 

And  therefore,  a  truly  humble  man  desires 
not  much  to  appear  humble.  Yea,  were  it 
not  for  disedifving  his  brethren,  he  would 
rather  disguise  and  hide,  not  only  other  things 
by  humility,  but  even  humility  itself,  and 
Would  be  content,  upon  the  mistake  of  some 
words  or  gestures,  to  pass  for  i)roud  and  vain, 
being  humbled  within,  rather  than  lo  be  big 
iti  his  own  eyes,  under  a  semblance  of  out- 
ward lowliness.  Yea,  were  it  not  that  charity 
and  piety  do  both  forbid  it,  he  would  not  care 
to  do  some  things  on  purpose  that  might  seem 
arrogant,  to  carry  humility  unseen,  that  doth 
so  naturally  delight  in  covering  all  graces,  and 
is  sorry  that  it  can  not  do  so  without  being 
seen  itself,  as  that  garment  that  covers  the 
rest,  must  of  necessity  be  seen  itself  But 
seeing  it  must  be  so,  it  is  with  the  least  show 
that  mav  be,  as  a  dark  veil  cast  al)out  rich 
attire,  hides  their  show,  and  makes  very  litth 
itself 

'J'his,  therefore,  is  mainly  to  be  studied 
that  the  seat  of  humility  be  the  heart.  Al- 
though it  will  be  seen  in  the  carriage,  yet  as 
little  as  it  can  ;  as  few  words  as  may  be  con- 
cerning itself ;  and  those  it  doth  speak,  must 
be  the  real  thouirbts  of  the  mind,  and  not  an 
affected  voice  of  it  diff'ering  from  the  inward 


336 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  V 


*ense:  otherwise,  humble  speech  and  carriage 
only  put  on  without,  and  not  fastened  in  the 
inside,  is  the  most  refined  and  subile,  and  in- 
deed the  most  dan.^erous  kind  of  pride.  And 
this  I  would  rec'/0imtnd  :is  a  safe  way  :  Ever 
let  tliy  thoughts  jonce'.iing  thyself  be  below 
what  thou  u'.terest  ■  and  ivir.it  thou  seest 
needful  or  iinins^  .o  say  lo  thine  own  abase- 
ment, be  not  only  content  ^whicii  most  are 
not)  to  be  taken  at  thy  word,  and  believed  to 
be  such  by  them  lliai  hear  thee,  but  be  desir- 
ous of  ii,  and  let  that  ue  the  end  of  :hy  speech, 
to  persuade  them,  and  gain  it  of  them,  that 
they  really  take  thee  for  as  worthless  and 
mean  as  thou  dost  express  thyself. 

Infer.  But  how  little  are  we  acquainted 
with  the  real  frame  of  Chrisiiauiiy ,  the  most 
living  without  a  rule,  not  laying  it  to  their 
words  and  ways  at  all,  nor  yieidmg  so  much 
as  seeming  obedience  to  the  gospel  ;  while 
others  take  up  a  knid  ol  proi'ession,  and  think 
ali  cr/il^ist3  iii  some  religious  performances, 
and  do  not  study  tne  inward  reserve  of  their 
heart-evils,  nor  labor  to  have  that  temple 
purged  :  for  the  heart  should  be  a  temple,  and 
it  stands  in  much  need  of  a  sweeping  out  of 
the  filthiness,  and  juiiting  out  of  idols.  Some 
there  be,  who  are  much  busied  about  the 
matter  of  their  assurance,  still  upon  that  point, 
which  it  is  lawful  indeed,  and  laudable  to  in- 
quire after,  yet  not  so  as  to  neglect  other  things 
more  needful.  Tt  were  ceriainly  better  for 
many,  when  they  find  no  issue  that  way,  to 
turn  somewhat  of  their  diligence  to  the  study 
of  Christian  graces  and  duties  in  their  station, 
and  to  task  themselves  for  a  time,  were  it  to 
the  more  special  seeking,  first,  of  some  one 
grace,  and  then,  of  another,  as  meekness,  and 
patience,  and  this  particularly  of  humility. 
To  be  truly  heart-humble — many  men  despise 
it  in  others:  but  some  that  will  commend  it 
in  the  general,  or  in  some  of  those  in  whom 
they  behold  it,  yet  seek  not  to  put  it  on  them- 
selves. They  love  to  be  more  gay,  and  to 
seem  to  be  somebody,  and  not  to  abase  them- 
selves. It  is  the  way,  say  they,  to  be  undone. 
This  clothing  is  too  poor  a  stuff,  and  too  sad 
a  color  for  them.  Oh,  my  brethren,  you  know 
not  the  excellency  of  it.  Ye  look  out  at  a 
distance  and  judge  according  to  your  light 
vain  minds.  But  will  you  see  it  by  the  light 
of  the  word,  and  then  you  shall  perceive  much 
hidden  richness  and  comeliness  in  it.  And 
do  not  only  approve  it,  and  call  it  comely  on 
others,  but  put  it  on,  and  so,  it  is  most  come- 
ly. And  as  it  is  with  respect  to  all  graces, 
so,  ()articularly,as  to  this  clothing  of  humility, 
(hough  it  make  least  show,  yet,  come  near, 
and  you  will  see  it  both  rich  and  comely  ;  and 
though  it  hides  other  graces,  yet,  when  they 
do  appear  under  it,  as  sometimes  they  will, 
a  little  glance  of  ihern  so,  makes  them  much 
more  esteemed.  Rebecca's  beauty  and  her 
jewels  were  covered  with  a  veil,  but  when 
they  did  appear,  the  veil  set  them  off,  and 
commended  them,  though  at  a  distance  it  hid 
them. 


Again  :  As  in  all  graces,  so,  particularly  m 
this  grace,  take  heed  of  a  disguise  or  counter- 
feit of  it.  Oh,  for  sincerity  in  all  things,  and 
particularly  in  this  !  To  be  low  in  thine  own 
eyes,  and  willing  to  be  so  in  the  eyes  of  others, 
this  is  the  very  upright  nature  ui'licari-humili- 
ty.  1st.  Not  to  be  deluded  with  a  false  conceit 
of  advantages  thou  hasi  not.  2dly.  Not  to  be 
swelled  with  a  vain  conceit  of  those  thou 
really  hast.  3dly.  Not  affecting  lo  be  esteem- 
ed by  others,  either  upon  their  imagining  thee 
to  have  some  good  that  is  not  in  thee,  or  dis- 
cerning that  which  is.  Is  not  the  day  at 
hand,  when  men  will  be  taken  off  ihe  false 
heights  they  stand  on,  and  set  on  their  own 
feet ;  when  all  the  esteem  of  others  shall 
vanish  and  pass  away  like  smoke,  and  thou 
shall  be  just  what  God  finds  and  accounts 
thee,  and  neither  more  nor  less  ?  Oh  !  the 
remembrance  of  thai  day  when  a  true  esti- 
mate will  be  made  of  all,  this  would  make  men 
hang  less  upon  the  unstable  conceits  and 
opinions  of  one  another,  knowing  i^ur  judg- 
ment and  day  shall  shortly  end.  Be  it  little 
or  much  that  thou  hast,  the  lower  and  closer 
thou  carriest  it  under  this  cloak,  the  safer 
shall  it  and  thou  he.  the  more  shall  it  increase, 
and  thou  shall  he  the  liker  him  in  whom  all 
fulness  (iicells.  In  this  he  hath  most  express- 
ly set  himself  before  us  as  our  pattern  ;  and 
one  says  well,  "  Surely,  man  might  now  be 
constrained  to  be  proud,  for  whom  God  him- 
self became  humble." 

Now,  to  work  the  heart  to  an  humble  pos- 
ture, 1.  Look  nilo  till/self  in  earnest :  and  Iru- 
I  ly,  whosoever  thou  be  ihat  hast  the  highest 
conceit  of  thyself,  and  the  highest  causes  for 
it,  a  real  sight  of  thyself  will  lay  thy  crest. 
Men  look  on  any  good,  or  any  fancy  of  it,  in 
themselves,  with  both  eyes,  and  skip  over  as 
unpleasant  their  real  defects  and  deformities. 
Every  man  is  naturally  his  own  flatterer;  oth- 
erwise, flatteries,  and  false  cryings  up  from 
others,  would  make  little  impression ;  but 
hence  their  success,  they  meet  with  the  same 
conceit  wiihin.  But  let  any  man  see  his  igno- 
rance, and  lay  what  he  knows  not  over  against 
what  he  knows  ;  the  disorders  in  his  heart  and 
affections,  over  against  any  right  motion  in 
them  ;  his  secret  follies  and  sins,  against  his 
outwardly  blameless  carriage — this  man  shall 
not  readily  love  and  embrace  himself;  yea,  it 
shall  be  impossible  for  him  not  to  abase  and 
abhor  himself. 

2.  Look  on  the  good  in  others,  and  the  evil 
in  thyself ;  make  that  the  parallel,  and  then 
thou  wilt  walk  humbly.  Most  men  do  just  the 
contrary,  and  that  foolish  and  unjust  compari- 
son puffs  them  up. 

3.  Thou  art  not  required  to  be  ignorant  ot 
that  good  which  really  is  so  indeed  ;  but  be- 
ware of  imagining  that  lo  be  good  which  is 
not  ;  yea,  rather  let  sominhing  that  is  truly 
good  pass  thy  view,  and  see  it  within,  rather 
than  beyond  its  true  size.  And  then,  whatso- 
ever it  he,  see  it  not  as  thine  own,  but  as 
God's,  his  free  gift ;  and  so,  the  more  thou 


Ver.  5.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


hast,  looking  on  it  in  that  view,  tiiou  wilt 
certainly  be  the  more  huruble,  as  having  the 
I  ior<?  oti'igations  :  the  weight  of  them  will 
preus  thee  down,  and  lay  thee  still  lower,  as 
you  see  it  in  Abraham — the  clear  visions  and 
promises  he  had  made  him  fall  down  flat  to 
the  ground.  Gen.  xv.  12. 

4.  Pray  much  for  the  spirit  of  humility,  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  for  that  is  it ;  otherwise,  all 
thy  vileness  will  not  humble  thee.  When 
men  hear  of  this  or  of  other  graces,  and  how 
reasonable  they  are,  they  think  presently  to 
have  them,  and  do  not  consider  the  natural 
enmity  and  rebellion  of  their  own  hearts,  and 
the  necessity  of  receiving  them  from  heaven. 
And  therefore,  in  the  use  of  all  other  means, 
be  most  dependant  on  that  influence,  and  most 
in  the  use  of  that  means  which  opens  the 
heart  most  to  that  influence,  and  draws  it 
down  upon  the  heart,  and  that  is  prayer. 

Of  all  the  evils  of  our  corrupt  nature,  there 
is  none  more  connatural  and  universal  than 
pride,  the  grand  wickedness,  self-exilting  in 
our  own  and  others'  opinion.  Though  I  will 
not  contest  what  was  the  first  step  in  that 
complicated  jirst  sin,  yet  certainly  this  of 
pride  was  one,  and  a  main  ingredient  in  it — 
that  which  the  unbelief  conceived  going  be- 
fore, and  the  disobedience  following  after, 
were  both  servants  to ;  and  ever  since,  it 
sticks  still  deep  in  our  nature.  St.  Augustine 
says  truly,  "  That  which  first  overcame  man, 
is  the  last  thing  he  overcomes."  Some  sins, 
comparatively,  may  die  before  us,  but  this 
haili  life  in  it,  sensibly  as  long  as  we.  It  is 
as  the  heart  of  all,  the  first  living,  and  the 
last  dying  ;  and  it  hath  this  advantage,  that, 
whereas  other  sins  are  fomented  by  one  an- 
other, this  feeds  even  on  virtues  and  graces 
as  a  moth  that  breeds  in  them,  and  consumes 
them,  even  in  the  finest  of  them,  if  it  be  not 
carefully  looked  to.  This  hydra,  as  one  head 
of  it  is  cut  off",  another  rises  up.  It  will  se- 
cretly cleave  to  the  best  actions,  and  prey 
upon  them.  And  therefore  is  there  so  much 
need  that  we  continually  watch,  and  fight, 
and  pray  against  it,  and  be  restless  in  the  pur- 
suit of  real  and  deep  humiliation,  daily  seek- 
ing to  advance  funher  in  it ;  to  be  nothing, 
and  desire  to  be  nothing  ;  not  only  to  bear,  but 
to  love  our  own  abasement,  and  the  things 
that  procure  and  help  it,  to  take  pleasure  in 
them,  so  far  as  may  be  without  sin:  yea, 
even  in  respect  of  our  sinful  failings,  when 
they  are  discovered,  to  love  the  bringing  low 
of  ourselves  by  them,  while  we  hate,  and 
grieve  for  the  sin  of  them. 

And,  above  all,  it  is  requisite  to  watch 
ourselves  in  our  best  things,  that  self  get  not 
in,  or,  if  it  break  in,  or  s'cal  in  at  any  time, 
that  it  he  presently  found  out  and  cast  out 
again  ;  to  have  that  established  within  us,  to 
do  all  for  God,  to  intend  him  and  his  glory  in 
all,  and  to  be  willing  to  advance  his  glory, 
were  it  by  our  own  disgrace:  not  to  make 
raising  or  pleasing  thyself  the  rule  of  exer- 
lis  ig  thy  parts  and  graces,  when  thou  an 
43 


called  to  use  and  bring  them  forth,  bu*  tne 
good  of  thy  brethren,  and  m  that,  the  glory 
of  thy  Lord.  Now,  this  is  indeed  to  be  sev- 
ered from  self  and  united  to  him,  to  have  self- 
love  turned  into  the  love  of  God.  And  this  is 
his  own  work  :  it  is  above  all  other  hands: 
therefore  the  main  combat  against  pride,  and 
the  conquest  of  it,  and  the  gaining  of  humili- 
ty, is  certainly  by  prayer.  God  bestows  him- 
self upon  them  who  are  most  abundant  m 
prayer ;  and  they  to  whom  he  shows  himself 
most  are  certainly  the  most  humble. 

Now,  to  stir  us  up  to  diligence  in  the  exer- 
cise of  this  grace,  take  briefly  a  consideration 
or  two. 

1.  Look  on  that  above  pointed  at,  the  high 
example  of  lowliness  set  before  us  :  Jesus 
Christ  requiring  our  particular  care  to  take 
this  lesson  from  him.  And  is  it  not  most  rea- 
sonable ?  He  the  most  fair,  the  most  excel 
lent  and  complete  of  all  men,  and  yet  the 
most  humble  !  He  more  than  a  man,  who 
yet  willingly  became,  in  some  sort,  less  than 
a  man,  as  it  is  expressed.  Psalm  xxii.  6,  a 
iL-orm  and  no  man.  And  when  Majesty  itself 
emptied  itself,  and  descended  so  low,  shall  a 
worm  swell  and  be  high-conceited  ? 

Then,  consider,  it  was  for  us  he  humbled 
himself,  to  expiate  our  pride:  and  therefore 
it  is  evidently  the  more  just  that  we  fijilow  a 
paitern  which  is  both  so  great  in  itself,  and 
doth  so  nearly  concern  us.  0  humility,  the 
virtue  of  Christ  (that  which  he  so  peculiarly 
espoused),  how  dost  ihou  confound  the  vanity 
of  our  pride. 

2.  Consider  the  safety  of  grace  under  this 
clothing  ;  it  is  that  which  keeps  it  unexposed 
to  a  thousand  hazards.  Humility  doth  grace 
no  prejudice  in  covering  it,  but  indeed  shel- 
ters it  from  violence  and  wrong:  therefore 
they  do  justly  call  it  conservatrix  virtulum, 
the  preserver  of  graces  ;  and  one  says  well, 
that  "  he  who  carries  other  graces  without 
humility,  carries  a  precious  powder  in  the 
wind  without  a  cover." 

3.  Consider  the  increase  of  grace  by  it,  as 
here  expressed  :  the  perfect  enmity  t)f  God 
against  pride,  and  his  bounty  toward  humili- 
ty. He  resist cl/i  the  proud,  and  givcth  ^race 
to  the  humble. 

God  resistelh  the  proud  [ivTiTaMrat],  singles 
it  out  fur  his  grand  enemy,  and  sets  himself 
in  battle  array  against  it :  so  the  word  is.  It 
breaks  the  ranks  of  mrm  in  which  he  hath  set 
ihem,  when  they  are  not  subject,  imr«wa(i;,fi'n(, 
as  the  word  is  before  ;  yea,  pride  not  only 
breaks  rank,  but  rises  up  in  rebellion  against 
God,  and  doth  what  it  can  to  detlirone  hina 
and  usurp  his  place  :  therefore  he  orders  his 
forces  against  it.  And  to  be  sure,  if  (rod  be 
able  to  make  his  party  good,  pride  shall  not 
escape  ruin.  He  will  break  it,  and  bring  it 
low  :  for  he  is  set  upon  that  purpose,  and  will 
not  be  diverted. 

But  he  ^iveth  grace — pours  it  out  plentiful- 
ly upon  humble  hearts.  His  sweet  dews  and 
showers  of  grace  slide  off  the  mountains  of 


338 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  V. 


pride,  and  fall  on  ihe  low  valleys  of  humble  | 
hearts,  and  make  them  pleasant  and  I'ertile. 
Tiie  swelling  heart,  puffed  up  with  a  fancy 
of  fullness,  hatii  no  room  for  grace.  It  is  lift- 
ed up  is  not  liallowed  and  fitted  to  receive 
and  contain  the  graces  that  descend  from 
above.  And  again,  as  the  humble  heart  is 
most  capacious,  and,  as  being  emptied  and 
hollowed,  can  hold  most,  so  it  is  the  most 
thankful,  acknowledges  all  as  received,  while 
the  proud  cries  out  that  all  is  his  own.  The 
return  of  glory  that  is  due  from  grace,  comes 
mosi  freely  and  i)lentituily  from  an  humble 
heart :  God  delights  to  enrich  it  with  grace, 
and  itdeligiiis  to  return  him  glory.  The  more 
he  bestows  on  it,  the  more  it  desires  to  honor 
him  willi  all  :  and  the  more  it  doth  so,  the 
more  readily  lie  bestows  still  more  upon  it  ; 
and  this  is  the  sweet  intercourse  between 
God  and  the  humble  soul.  This  is  the  noble 
ambition  of  humility,  in  respect  whereof  all 
the  aspirings  of  pride  are  low  and  base.  When 
all  is  reckoned,  the  lowliest  mind  is  truly  the 
highest ;  and  these  two  agree  so  well,  that 
the  more  lowly  it  is,  it  is  thus  the  higher; 
and  the  higher  thus,  it  is  still  the  more  lowly. 

Oh,  my  brethren,  want  of  this  is  a  great 
cause  of  all  our  wants.  Why  should  our  God 
bestow  on  us  wliat  we  would  bestow  on  our 
idol,  self?  Or,  if  not  to  idolize  thyself,  yet  to 
idolize  the  thing,  the  gift  that  grace  bestowed, 
10  fetch  thy  believing  and  comforts  from  that, 
which  is  to  put  it  in  his  place  who  gave,  and 
to  make  Baal  of  it,  as  some  would  render  Ho- 
sea  ii.  S.*  Now  he  will  not  furnish  thee  thus 
to  his  own  prejudice  therein.  Seek,  there- 
fore, to  have  thy  heart  on  a  high  design,  seek- 
ing grace  still,  not  to  rest  in  any  gift,  nor  to 
grow  vain  and  regardless  of  him  upon  it.  If 
we  had  but  this  fixed  with  us — "  What  gift 
or  grace  I  seek,  what  comfort  I  seek,  it  shall 
be  no  sooner  mine,  but  it  shall  be  all  thine 
again,  and  myself  with  it;  I  desire  nothing 
from  thee,  but  that  it  may  come  back  to  thee, 
and  draw  me  with  it  unto  thee  ;  this  is  all  my 
end,  and  all  my  desire" — the  request  thus 
prese.  '.ed  would  not  come  back  so  often  un- 
answered. 

This  is  the  only  way  to  grow  quickly  rich  : 
come  still  poor  to  him  who  hath  enough  ever 
to  enrich  thee,  and  desire  of  his  riches,  not 
for  thyself,  but  for  him.  Mind  entirely  his 
glory  in  all  iliou  hast  and  seckest  to  have. 
What  thou  hast,  use  so,  and  what  thou  want- 
est,  vow  that  thou  will  use  it  so  :  let  it  be  his 
in  thy  [jurpose,  even  before  it  be  thine  in  pos- 
session, as  Hannah  did  in  her  suit  for  a  son, 
1  Sam.  i.  11  ;  and  thou  shalt  obtain  it  as  she 
did.  And  then,  as  she  was  be  ihou  faithful 
in  the  performance:  Hun  tchmn  1  received 
(says  she)  by  petition,  I  have  returned  to  the 
Lord. 

It  is  undoubtedly  the  secret  pride  and  self- 

•  The  words  Gnnsu  Lebagnnl,  which  we  render 
which  they  prepared  for  H.ial,  may,  as  tlio  margin 
notes,  be  translated  whereuiih  they  made  liaal. — Dr. 

DODOHIDGE. 


ishness  of  our  hearts,  that  obstruct  much  of 
the  bounty  of  God's  hand  in  the  measure  of 
our  graces,  and  the  sweet  embraces  of  hi> 
love,  which  we  should  otherwise  find.  The 
more  that  we  let  go  of  ourselves,  still  the 
more  should  we  receive  of  himself  Oh,  fool- 
ish we,  who  refuse  so  blessed  an  exchange  ! 

To  this  humility,  as  in  these  words  it  is 
taken  in  the  notion  of  our  inward  thought-, 
touching  ourselves,  and  our  carriage  in  rela 
tion  to  others,  the  apostle  joins  the  other  hu- 
mility, in  relation  to  God  ;  being  indeed  the 
different  actings  of  one  and  the  same  grace, 
and  inseparably  connected  each  with  the 
other. 

Ver.6.  Humble  yourselves,  therefore,  under  the  uiigli- 
ty  hand  of  God,  that  he  may  exalt  you  in  due  time. 

This  is  pressed  by  a  reason  both  of  equity 
and  necessity,  in  that  word.  The  mighty 
hand  of  God.  He  is  sovereign  Lord  of  all, 
and  all  things  do  obeisance  to  him  ;  there- 
fore it  is-jusi,  that  you  his  peoj^le,  professing 
loyalty  and  obedience  to  him,  be  most  sub- 
missive and  humble  in  your  subjection  to  hini 
in  all  things.  Again,  mark  Ihe  necessity,  his 
mighty  hand :  there  is  no  striving,  it  is  a  vain 
thing  lo  flinch  and  struggle,  for  he  doth  what 
he  will.  And  his  hand  is  so  mighty,  that  the 
greatest  power  of  the  creature  is  nothing  to 
it.  Yea,  it  is  all  indeed  derived  from  him, 
and  therefore  can  not  do  any  whit  against 
him.  If  thou  wiltnot  yield,  thou  nmst  yield  : 
if  thou  wilt  not  be  led,  thou  shalt  be  pulled 
and  drawn.  Therefore,  submission  is  your 
only  course. 

A  third  reason  by  which  this  duty  is  pressed, 
is  that  of  utility,  or  the  certain  advantage  of 
it.  As  there  is  nothing  to  be  gained,  yea,  ra- 
ther, as  you  are  certainly  ruined  by  reluctance, 
so  this  humble  submission  is  the  only  way  to 
gain  your  point.  What  would  you  have  un- 
der any  affliction,  but  be  delivered  and  raised 
up?  Thus  alone  can  you  attain  that :  Hum- 
ble yourselves,  and  he  shall  raise  you  up  m 
due  time. 

This  is  the  end  why  he  humbles  you  :  he 
lays  weights  upon  you,  that  you  may  be  de- 
pressed. Now.  when  this  end  is  gained,  that 
you  are  willingly  so,  then  the  weights  are 
"taken  off,  and  you  are  lifted  up  by  his  gra- 
cious hand.  Otherwise,  it  is  not  enough  that 
he  hath  humbled  you  by  his  hand,  unless  you 
liuniblr  yourselves  under  his  hand.  Many 
have  had  great  and  many  pressures,  one  af- 
fliction after  another,  and  been  humbled,  and 
yet  not  made  humble,  as  they  commonly  ex- 
jpress  the  difference:  humbled  by  force  in  re- 
gard of  their  outward  condition,  but  not  hum- 
biec.  in  their  inward  temper  :  and  therefore, 
as  soon  as  the  weijjht  is  off,  like  heaps  of 
wool,  they  rise  up  again,  and  grow  as  big  as 
they  were. 

If  we  would  consider  this  in  our  particular 
trials,  and  aim  at  this  deportment,  it  were 
our  wisdom.  Are  they  not  mad,  who,  undei 
any  stroke,  qniir'»l  or  struggle  against  God  ? 


Ver.  6.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


339 


what  gain  your  children  thus  at  your  nands, 
but  more  blows  ?  Nor  is  this  only  an  un- 
seemly and  unhappy  way,  openly  to  resist 
and  strive,  but  even  secretly  to  fret  and  grum- 
ble ;  for  he  hears  the  least  whispering  of  the 
heart,  and  looks  most  how  that  behaves  it- 
self under  his  hand.  Oh,  humble  acceptance 
of  his  chastisement,  is  our  duty  and  our  peace  ; 
that  which  gains  most  on  the  heart  of  our 
Father,  and  mikes  the  rod  lall  soonest  out  of 
his  hand. 

And  not  only  should  we  learn  this  in  our 
outward  things,  but  in  our  spiritual  condi- 
tion, as  the  thing  the  Lord  is  much  pleased 
with  in  his  children.  There  is  a  stubborn- 
ness and  fretting  of  heart  concerning  our 
souls,  that  arises  from  pride  and  the  untam- 
edness  of  our  nature  ;  and  yet  some  take  a 
pleasure  in  it,  touching  the  matter  of  comfort 
and  assurance,  if  it  be  withheld.  Or  (which 
they  take  more  liberty  in),  if  it  be  sanctifica- 
tion  and  victory  over  sin  they  seek,  and  yet 
find  little  or  no  success,  but  the  Lord  holding 
them  under  in  these,  they  then  vex  them- 
selves, and  wax  more  discontented,  and  noth- 
ing pleases  them  :  as  peevish  children,  up- 
on the  refusal  of  somewhat  they  would  have, 
take  displeasure,  and  make  no  account  of  the 
daily  provision  made  for  them,  and  all  the 
other  benefits  they  have  by  the  care  and  love 
of  their  parents.  This  is  a  folly  very  unbe- 
seeming the  children  that  are  the  children  of 
wisdom,  and  should  walk  as  such  :  and  till  they 
learn  more  humble  respect  for  their  Father's 
will,  they  are  still  the  farther  off  from  their 
purpose.  Were  they  once  brought  lo  submit 
the  matter,  and  jrive  him  heartily  his  will,  he 
would  readily  give  them  theirs,  as  far  as  it 
were  for  their  good  :  as  you  say  to  your  chil- 
dren, of  anything  they  are  too  stiff  and  earnest 
in,  and  make  a  noise  for,  "  Cry  not  for  it,  and 
you  shall  have  it." 

And  this  is  the  thing  we  observe  not,  that 
the  Lord  often  by  his  delays,  is  aiming  at 
this;  and  were  this  done,  we  can  nol  think 
how  graciously  he  would  deal  with  us.  His 
gracious  design  is,  to  make  much  room  for 
grace,  by  much  humbling  ;  especially  in  some 
spirits  which  need  much  trying,  or  when  he 
means  much  to  enable  for  some  singular  ser- 
vice. And  thus,  the  time  is  not  lost,  as  we  are 
apt  to  imagine,  but  it  furthers  our  end,  while 
We  think  the  contrary.  It  is  necessary  tirne 
and  pains  that  are  given  to  the  unballasting  of 
a  ship,  the  casting  out  of  the  earth  and  sand, 
when  it  is  tn  be  laden  with  spices.  We  must 
be  emptied  more,  if  we  would  have  more  of 
that  fulness  and  riches  which  we  are  long- 
ing for. 

So  Idng  as  we  fume  and  chafe  against  his 
way,  though  it  be  in  our  best  supplications, 
we  are  not  in  a  posture  for  a  favorable  an- 
swer. Would  we  wring  things  out  of  his 
hand  by  fretfulness  ?  That  is  not  the  way  : 
no  ;  but  present  humble  subrrtissive  suits : 
■'  Lord,  this  is  tny  desire, 'lut  thou  art  wise 
and  gracious  ;  I  refer  the  matter  to  thy  will  for 


the  thing,  and  for  the  measure,  and  for  the 
time,  and  all."  AVere  we  moulded  to  this 
composure,  then  were  mercy  near.  When  he 
hath  gained  this,  broken  our  will  and  tamed 
our  stoutness,  then  he  relents  and  pities.  See 
Jer.  XXX.  17,  18.  Because  they  called  thee  an 
outcast,  (5fC.,  thus  saith  the  Lord,  behold,  I 
tvill  bring  again  the  captivity  of  Jacob'n 
tents,  Sfc. 

This  I  would  recommend  in  any  estate,  the 
humble  folding  under  the  Lord's  hand,  kis- 
sing the  rod,  and  falling  low  before  him  :  and 
this  is  the  way  to  be  raised.  But  there  may 
be  some  one  who  thinks  he  hath  tried  this 
a«>tiile,  and  is  still  at  the  same  point,  hath 
gained  nothing,  and  he  may  therefore  be  ready 
to  fall  back  to  his  old  repinings  ;  let  such  a 
one  know  that  his  humbling  and  compliance 
were  not  upright ;  it  was  a  fit  of  false,  con- 
strained subnwssion,  and  therefore  lasts  not  • 
it  was  but  a  tempting  of  God,  instead  of  sub- 
mitting to  him.  "  Oh,  will  he  have  a  sub- 
mission ?  I  will  try  it,  but  with  this  reserve, 
that  if  after  such  a  time  I  gain  not  what  I 
seek,  I  shall  think  it  is  lost,  and  that  I  have 
reason  to  return  to  my  discontent."  Though 
the  man  says  not  thus,  yet  tbis  meaning  is 
secretly  under  it.  But  wouldst  thou  have  it 
right,  it  must  be  without  condition,  without 
reserve  ;  no  time,  nor  anything,  prescribed  : 
and  then  he  will  make  his  word  good,  he  wi'.l 
raise  thee  up,  and  that 

In  due  time.  Not  thy  fancied  time,  but 
his  own  wisely  appointed  time.  Thoii  think- 
est,  now  I  am  sinking  ;  if  he  help  not  now,  it 
will  be  too  late.  Yet  he  sees  ii  otherwise  :  he 
can  let  thee  sink  still  lower,  and  yet  bring  thee 
up  again.  He  doth  but  stay  till  the  most  fit 
time.  Thou  canst  not  see  it  now,  but  thou 
slialt  see  it,  that  his  chosen  time  is  al)solute- 
ly  best.  God  vaiteth  to  be  gracious.  Isa. 
XXX.  18.  Doth  he  wait,  and  wilt  not  thou  ? 
Oh,  the  firm  belief  of  his  wisdom,  power,  and 
goodnesfe,  what  difliculty  will  it  not  sur- 
mount ?  So  then,  be  humble  under  his  hand. 
Submit  not  only  thy  goods,  thy  health,  thy 
life,  but  thy  soul.  Seek  and  wait  for  thy  par- 
don as  a  condemned  rebel,  with  thy  rope 
about  thyneck.  Lay  thyself  low  before  him, 
stoop  at  his  feet,  and  crave  leave  to  look  up, 
and  speak,  and  say:  "Lord,  I  am  justly  under 
the  sentence  of  death  :  if  I  fall  under  it,  thou 
art  righteous,  and  I  do  here  acknowledge  it ; 
but  tliere  is  deliverance  in  Christ,  thither  I 
would  have  recourse  :  yet,  if  I  be  beaten  back, 
and  kept  out,  and  faith  withheld  from  nic, 
and  I  perish,  as  it  were,  in  view  of  salvation  ; 
if  I  see  the  rock,  and  yet  can  not  come  at  it, 
but  drown  ;  what  have  I  to  say  ?  In  this, 
likewise,  thou  art  righteous.  Only,  if  it  seem 
good  unto  thee  to  save  the  vilest,  mcst 
wretched  of  sinners,  and  to  show  great  mer- 
cy in  pardoning  so  great  debts,  the  higher 
will  be  the  glory  of  that  mercy.  However, 
here  I  am  resolved  to  wait,  till  eitlier  thou 
graciously  receive  me,  or  absolutely  reject 
me.    If  the    lo  this,  I  have  not  a  word  to 


340 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  V. 


Bay  against  it ;  but  because  thou  art  ffracious,  ! 
I  hope,  I  hope  thou  wilt  yet  have  mercy  on 
me, — I  dare  say  tliat  tlie  promise  in  tlie  text 
beK)ngs  to  sucli  a  soul,  and  il  shall  he  raised 
up  i".  due  tunc. 

And  what  though  most,  or  all  of  our  life,  [ 
should  pass  without  mucii  sensible  taste  even 
of  sjiiritual  comforts,  a  poor  all  it  is  !    Let  us  ; 
not  over-esteem  this  momeni,  and  so  think  too 
much  of  our  better  or  worse  condition  in  it, 
either  in  temporals,  or  even  in  spirituals,  so 
far  as  regards  such  things  as  are  more  arbi-  ' 
trary  and  accessory  to  the  name  of  our  spirit- 
ual lil'e.     Provided  we  can  humbly  wait  for 
free  grace  and  depend  on  ihe  word  of  prom-  j 
ise,  we  are  safe.     If  the  Lord  will  clearly 
shine  on  us,  and  refresh  us,  ihis  is  much  to  i 
be  desired  and  prized  ;  but  if  he  so  think  fit,  j 
what  if  we  should  be  all  our  days  held  at  a 
distance,  and  under  a  cloud  of  wrath  ?    It  is  | 
but  a  moment  in  his  an<^cr.   Psalm  xxx.  5. 
Then  follows  a  life-time  in  his  favor,  an  end- 
less life-tiine.    It  is  hut  icceping  (as  it  there 
follows)  for  a  night,  and  joy  comes  in  the 
morning,  that  clearer  morning  of  Eternity,  to 
which  no  evening  succeeds. 

Ver.  7.  Casting  all  your  care  upon  him,  for  he  careth 
tor  you. 

AiMoNG  other  spiritual  secrets,  this  is  one, 
and  a  prime  one,  the  combination  of  lowli- 
ness and  boldness,  humhle  confidence  :  this  is 
the  true  temper  of  a  child  of  God  toward  his 
great  and  good  Father  ;  nor  can  any  have  it, 
but  they  who  are  indeed  his  children,  and 
have  within  them  that  spirit  of  adoption 
which  he  sends  into  their  hearts.  Gala- 
tians  iv.  6. 

And  these  two  the  apostle  here  joins  to- 
gether ;  Humble  yourselves  under  the  hand  of 
God,  and  yet  cast  your  care  on  him  :  upon 
that  same  hand  under  which  you  ought  to 
humble  yourselves,  must  you  withal  cast 
over  your  care,  all  your  care  ;  for  ke  careth 
for  you. 

Consider,  I.  The  nature  of  this  confidence, 
casting  all  your  care  on  him.  A.  The 
ground  ot  r/arrant  of  it,  For  he  careth  for 
you. 

I.  For  the  nature  of  it.  Every  man  hath 
some  desires  and  purposes  tliat  arc  predomi- 
nant with  him,  besides  those  that  relate  to 
the  daily  exigencies  of  life  with  which  he  is 
compassed  :  and  in  both,  according  to  their 
importance  or  iiis  estimate  of  them,  and  the 
difficulties  occurring  in  them,  he  is  naturally 
carried  to  be  proportionally  thoughtful  and 
careful  in  them.  Now,  the  excess  and  dis- 
temper of  tliis  care,  is  one  of  the  great  dis- 
eases and  miseries  of  man's  life.  Moral  men, 
perceiving  and  feeling  it,  have  been  tamper- 
ing at  the  cure,  and  prescribing  after  their 
fashion,  but  with  little  success.  Some  pres- 
ent abatement  and  allay  of  the  paroxysm  or 
extremity,  their  rules  may  reach  ;  but  they 
never  go  near  the  bottom,  the  cause  of  the 
evil    and  therefore  can  not  work  a  thor- 


ough sound  cure  of  it.  Something  they  have 
sjioken,  somewhat  fitly,  of  the  surpassing  of 
nature's  rule  and  size  in  the  pursuit  of  super- 
fluous, needless  things  ;  bui,  for  the  unavoid- 
able care  of  things  needful,  they  know  no  re- 
dress, but  refer  men  entirely  to  their  own  in- 
dustry and  diligence.  They  can  tell  how  lit- 
tle will  serve  him  who  seeks  no  more  than 
what  will  serve,  but  how  to  be  provided  with 
that  little,  or  to  be  assured  of  it,  and  freed 
from  troubling  care,  they  can  not  tell. 

Now,  truly  it  were  a  great  point,  to  be  well 
instructed  in  the  former ;  and  it  is  necessary 
for  the  due  practice  of  the  rule  here  given, 
touching  necessary  cares,  first,  to  cut  off  cares 
unnecessary,  to  retrench  all  extravaj^-ant,  su- 
perfluous desires.  For,  certainly,  a  great 
part  of  the  troublous  cares  of  men,  relate 
merely  to  such  things  as  have  no  other  ne- 
cessity in  them,  than  what  our  disordered  de- 
sires create,  nor  truly  any  real  good  in  them, 
but  what  our  fancy  puts  upon  them.  Some 
are  indeed  forced  to  labor  hard  for  their  dai- 
ly bread  ;  but,  undoubtedly,  a  great  deal  ot 
the  sweat  and  toil  of  the  greatest  part  of  men 
is  about  unnecessaries  :  ad  supervacua  suda- 
tur.  Such  an  estate,  so  much  by  the  year, 
such  a  place,  so  much  honor,  and  esteem, 
and  rank  in  the  world, — these  are  the  things 
that  make  some  slaves  to  the  humors  of 
others,  whom  they  court,  and  place  their  de- 
pendance  on,  for  these  ends ;  and  those,  pos- 
sibly, to  whom  they  are  so  enthralled,  are 
themselvesat  as  little  liberty, but  captivated  to 
the  humors  of  some  others,  eitherabove  them, 
or  who  being  below  them,  may  give  accession 
and  furtherance  to  their  ends  of  enrichment, 
advancement,  or  popularity.  Men  who  are 
set  on  these  things,  forge  necessities  to  them- 
selves, and  make  vain  things  as  necessary  as 
food  and  raiment,  resolving  that  they  will 
have  them,  or  fall  in  the  chase,  being  wil- 
fully and  unavoidably  bent  on  them.  They 
that  will  be  rich,  says  the  apostle  (1  Tim.  vi. 
9),  who  are  resolved  on  it  upon  any  terms, 
meet  with  terms  hard  enough, — they  fall  in- 
to temptation,  and  a  snare,  and  into  many 
foolish  and  hurtful  lvfts,ichich  drown  men  in 
destruction  and  perdition.  Brown  them  : 
there  is  no  recovering,  but  still  they  arc 
plunged  deeper  and  deeper.  Foolish  hists  / 
unreasonable  childish  desires  ;  after  one  bar- 
gain, such  another,  and  after  one  sin,  another 
to  make  even,  and  somewhat  then  to  keep 
that  whole,  and  so  on  without  end.  If  their 
hearts  are  set  upon  purchase  and-  land,  still 
some  house  and  neighbor-fleld,  some  Naboth's 
vineyard  is  in  their  eyes,  and  all  the  rest  is 
nothing  without  that,  which  discovers  the 
madness  of  this  humor,  this  dropsy-ihirst. 

And  this  is  the  first  thing,  indeed,  to  be 
looked  to,  that  our  desires  and  cares  be 
brought  to  a  due  compass.  And  what  would 
we  have  ?  Think  we  that  contentment  lies 
in  so  much,  and  no  less?  When  that  is  at- 
tained, it  shall  appear  as  far  oflT  as  before. 
When  children  are  at  the  foot  of  a  high  hil. 


Ver.  7.1 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


341 


thev  tliink  it  reaches  the  heavens,  and  yet,  if 
tlieywere  there,  they  wuuldfind  themselves  as 
far  off  as  before,  or  at  least  not  sensibly  near- 
er. Men  think.  Oh,  had  I  this,  I  were  well  ; 
and  when  it  is  reached,  it  is  but  an  advanced 
standing  from  which  to  look  higher,  and  spy 
out  for  some  other  thing. 

We  are  indeed  children  in  this,  to  think 
the  good  of  our  estate  lies  in  the  greatness, 
and  not  in  the  fitness  of  it  for  us.  He  were  a 
fool  that  would  have  his  clothes  so,  and  think 
the  bigger  and  longer  they  were,  they  would 
please  him  the  better.  And  certainly,  as  in 
apparel,  so  in  place  and  estate,  and  all  out- 
ward tlimgs,  their  good  lies  not  in  their  great- 
ness, but  in  their  fitness  for  us.  Our  Savior 
tells  us  expressly,  that  ma«'.<  life  consisleth 
not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  he  posses- 
seth,  Luke  xii.  13.  Think  you  that  great  and 
rich  persons  live  more  content  ?  Believe  it 
not.  If  they  will  deal  freely,  they  can  tell 
you  the  contrary  ;  that  there  is  nothing  but  a 
show  in  them,  and  that  great  estates  and 
places  have  great  grief  and  cares  attend- 
ing them,  as  shadows  are  proportioned  to 
their  bodies.  And  if  they  have  no  real 
crosses,  luxury  frames  troubles  to  itself;  like 
a  variety  of  dishes  corrupting  the  stomach 
and  causing  variety  of  diseases.  And  instead 
of  need,  they  have  fantastic  vain  discontents 
that  will  trouble  men  as  much  as  greater,  be  it 
but  this  hawk  flies  not  well,  or  that  dog  runs 
not  well,  to  men  whose  hearts  are  in  those 
games. 

So  then,  I  say,  this  is  first  to  be  regulated  : 
all  childish,  vain,  needless  cares  are  to  be 
discharged,  and,  as  being  unfit  to  cast  on  thy 
God,  are  to  be  quite  cast  out  of  thy  heart. 
Entertain  no  care  at  all  but  such  ai  thou 
mayest  put  into  God's  hands,  and  make  his 
on  thy  behalf ;  such  as  he  will  take  off  thy 
hand,  and  undertake  for  thee. 

All  needful  lawful  care,  and  that  only,  will 
he  receive.  So  then,  rid  thyself  rjuite  of  all 
that  thou  canst  not  take  this  course  with,  and 
then,  without  scruple,  take  confidently  this 
course  with  all  the  rest.  Seek  a  well-regu- 
lated, sober  spirit.  In  the  things  of  this  life, 
be  con/ml  with  fond  and  raiment ;  not  deli- 
cates,  but  fond  ;  not  ornament,  but  raiment, 
Tiii-y-w  ru'»^;/i,  Tv/TrWi/cir.i  I'l « iT/i/)(/.i7fi ;  and  con- 
clude, that  what  thy  father  carves  to  thee  is 
best  for  thee,  the  fittest  measure,  for  he  knows 
it,  and  loves  thee  wisely.  This  course  our 
Savior  would  have  thee  take.  Matt.  vi.  31  ; 
first,  to  cut  off  superfluous  care,  then,  to  turn 
over  on  thy  God  ihe  care  of  what  is  neces- 
sary. He  will  look  to  that,  thou  hast  him 
engaged  ;  and  he  can  and  will  give  thee  be- 
yond that,  if  he  sees  it  fit. 

Only,  this  is  required  of  thee,  to  refer  the 
matter  to  his  discretion  entirely.  Now,  in 
thy  thus  well-regulated  affairs  and  desires, 
there  is  a  diligent  care  and  study  of  thy  duty  ; 
this  he  lays  on  thee.  There  is  a  care  of  sup- 
port in  ihc  work,  and  of  the  success  of  it  ; 
this  tbou  oughtest  to  lay  on  him.  And  so  in-  i 


deed,  all  the  care  is  turned  off  from  thee  up- 
on him,  even  that  of  duty,  which  from  him 
lies  on  us.  We  offer  our  service,  but  for  skill 
and  strength  to  discharge  it,  that  care  we  lay 
on  him,  and  he  allows  us  to  do  so  :  and  then, 
for  the  event  and  success,  with  that  we  trust 
him  entirely.  And  this  is  the  way  to  walk 
contentedly  and  cheerfully  homeward,  lean- 
ing and  resting  all  the  way  on  him,  who  is 
both  our  guide  and  our  strength,  who  hath 
us  and  all  our  good  in  his  gracious  hand. 
Much  zeal  for  him,  and  desire  of  his  glory, 
minding  our  duty  in  relation  to  that,  is  the 
thing  he  requires,  and  while  we  are  bending 
our  whole  care  to  that,  he  undertakes  the 
care  of  us  and  our  condition :  as  that  king 
said  to  his  favorite,  when  persuading  him  to 
fidelity  and  diligence  in  his  state-trust,  "  Do 
my  affairs,  and  I  will  do  y^urs."  Such  a 
word  directly  hath  St.  Chrysostom:  ilo  /iroi- 

Hi/jjtT'}^  rd   roil   i-)cov  Kat   avrds  ficpi^viitrtt   rd  cai>  ;  If 

thou  have  a  concern  for  the  things  that  are 
God's,  he  will  also  be  careful  with  thee  and 
thine. 

The  care  of  duty  thus  carried,  is  sweet 
and  light,  doth  not  cut  and  divide  the  mind  ; 
it  is  united  and  gathered  in  God,  and  rests 
there,  and  walks  in  his  hand  all  the  way. 
He  bears  the  weight  of  all  our  works,  and 
wnrks  them  in  us,  and  for  us  ;  and  therein  lies 
our  peace,  that  he  ordains  for  us.  Isa.  xxvi. 
12.  If  thou  wouldst  shake  off  the  yoke  of 
obedience,  thou  art  likewise  to  be  shaken  ofi 
thyself;  but  if,  in  humble  diligence  in  the 
ways  of  (rod,  thou  walk  on  in  his  strength, 
there  is  nothing  that  concerns  thee  and  thy 
work,  but  he  will  take  the  charge  and  care  of 
thyself,  and  all  thine  interests.  Art  ihou 
troubled  with  fears,  enemies,  and  snares? 
Untrouble  thyself  of  that,  for  he  is  with  thee. 
He  hath  promised  lo  lead  thee  in  a  straight 
and  safe  pal h,  Psalm  xxvii.  11  ;  and  to  rebuke 
all  thine  enemies,  to  subdue  thine  inujvities 
for  thee,  Micah  vii.  19  ;  and  to  fight  against 
those  that  fight  against  thee,  Psalm  xxxv.  1. 
No  weapon  funned  against  thee  shall  prosper, 
Isa.  liv.  17  ;  yea,  when  thou  passes!  through 
the  water,  anil  through  the  fire,  he  will  he  with 
Ihee,  Isa.  xliii.  2.  Doth  thine  own  weakness 
discourage  thee  ?  Hath  he  not  engaged  for 
that  loo?  So  lay  over  that  care  upon  him. 
Hath  he  not  spoken  of  strengthening  the 
weak  hands  and  feeble  knees,  and  said,  that 
the  lame  shall  leap  as  an  hart  ?  Isa.  xxxv.  3, 
G.  And  though  there  is  nothing  in  thyself  but 
unrighteousness  and  weakness,  yet  there  is 
in  him  for  thee,  righteousness  and  strength, 
Isa.  xlv.  24 — righteousness,  to  express  the 
abundance  of  righteousness.  When  thou  art 
readv  tof^iint,  a  locjk  to  him  will  revive  thee; 
a  believing  look  draws  in  of  his  strength  to 
thy  soul,  and  renews  it.  Isa.  xl.  29.  And 
know,  the  more  tender  and  weak  thou  art, 
the  more  tender  he  is  over  thee,  and  the  more 
strong  will  he  be  in  thee.  He  feeds  Ins  jlor.k 
like  a  shepherd,  and  the  weakest  he  is  the 
tnost  careful  of:  theij  are  cnr-'-'J  in  his  arms 


342 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  TIIL 


[Chap,  i 


and  /lis  lofom,  T«a.  xl.  11,  and  it  is  easy  for 
till'  IVobli'si  to  sro  SI.. 

And  as  for  the  issue  and  success  of  tin- 
way,  let  not  tiial  trouble  thee  a.  all  :  tiiat  is 
the  care  he  would  have  lliee  whollv  di.-hur- 
den  tl\yself  of,  and  lay  euiirely  upon  hiin. 
Do  not  /ex  thyself  with  thinking,  how  will 
tliis  an«  that  be,  what  if  this  aiul  the  oilier 
fall  ou  .  Thai  is  his  part  whollv,  and  if 
tl.. )U  meddle  with  it,  thou  at  once  dis)ileasest 
luio,  and  dis(|uietest  thyself.  This  sin  car- 
ries the  punishment  of  it  close  tied  to  it.  If 
thou  wilt  be  sirui^ijlinsi:  with  that  which  be- 
longs not  to  thee,  and  poisinij  at  that  burden 
that  is  not  thine,  what  wonder,  vea,  I  may 
Kay,  what  pny  if  thou  fall  under  it  ?  Art 
thou  not  well  served  ?  Is  it  not  just,  that  if 
thou  wilt  do  for  thyself,  and  bear  for  thy- 
self what  tiiy  Lord  calls  for  lo  bear  for  thee, 
thou  shouldst  feel  the  weiiibt  of  it  to  thy  cost  ? 

But  what  is  the  way  of  this  devolvitig  of 
niy  burden?  There  is  a  faculiy  in  it  that  all 
persons  have  not  :  though  they  would  do 
thus  with  it,  they  can  not  ;  ii  lies  on  them, 
and  they  are  not  able  to  cast  it  on  God.  The 
way  is,  doubtless,  by  prayinir  and  believing: 
these  are  the  hands  by  which  the  soul  can 
turn  over  to  God  what  itself  can  not  bear  : 
all  cares,  the  whole  bundle,  is  most  dexter- 
ously transferred  thus.  Be  cartful  in  not/i- 
»«;<■.  PhiJ.  iv.  0.  A  great  word  I  Oh,  but 
how  shall  it  be?  Why  thus,  says  he.  In  all 
tki/iffs  make  your  requests  knnwa  inito  God, 
and  in  a  confident  cheerful  way,  sypplication 
mixed  with  thanksgivini:  ;  so  shall  it  be  the 
more  lively  and  active  to  carry  forth,  and  car- 
ry up  thy  cares,  and  discharge  thee  of  them, 
and  lay  them  on  God.  Whatsoever  it  is  that 
presses  thee,  go  tell  thy  Father  ;  put  over  the 
matter  into  his  hand,  and  so  thou  shalt  be 
freed  from  ..toi/nn,  that  dividing,  perplexing 
care,  that  the  world  is  full  of. 

No  more,  but  when  thou  art  either  to  door 
suffer  anything,  when  thou  art  about  any  pur- 
pose or  business,  go  tell  God  of  it,  and  ac- 
quaint him  with  it  ;  yea,  burden  him  with  it, 
and  thou  hast  done  for  matter  of  caring:  no 
more  care,  but  quiet,  sweet  diligence  in  thy 
duty,  and  dcpendance  on  him  for  the  carriage 
of  thy  matters.  And  in  this  prayer,  faith 
acts:  it  is  a  believing  requesting.  Ask  in 
failk,nol  douhlinir.  Jam.  i.  6.  So  thou  rol- 
lest  over  all  on  him  ;  that  is  the  very  proper 
working  of  faith,  the  carrying  the  soul,  and 
all  its  desires,  out  of  itself'  unto  God,  as  ex- 
pressed Psaim  xxxvi.  ,5  :  roll  oi^er  on  God — 
make  one  bundle  of  all  ;  roll  thy  cares,  and 
thyselfwiili  them, as  one  burden  all  on  thy  God. 

Now  faith,  to  do  this,  stays  itself  on  the 
•promise.  It  can  not  move  but  on  firm  ground, 
and  the  promises  are  its  ground  :  and  for  this 
end  is  this  added,  lie  ran  lh  for  thee. 

This  must  be  established  in  the  heart.  1. 
The  firm  belief  of  the  divine  providence,  that 
all  things  are  managed  and  ruled  by  it,  and 
that  in  the  highest  [)ower  and  wisdom  ;  that 
viierH  IS  no  breaking  of  his  purposes,  nor  re- 


sisting of  his  power.  The  covnscl  of  the  Lara 
sinndclh  for  ever,  and  the  thoughts  of  hij 
heart  to  all  i;eneralioiis.  Psaim.  xxxiii.  11. 
2.  The  belief  of  his  gracious  providence  to 
his  own  j)eoi)le,  that  he  orders  all  for  their 
true  advantage,  and  makes  all  different  lines 
and  ways  conce^iire  in  their  highest  good  ; 
all  to  meet  in  thai,  how  opposite  soever  in 
appearance.  See  Rom.  viii.  28.  3.  A  par- 
ticular  confidence  of  his  good-will  toward 
thee,  and  undertaking  for  thee.  Now,  if  this 
be  the  question,  the  promise  resolves  thee: 
trust  him,  and  he  takes  on  the  trust,  and  there 
is  no  other  condition  ;  cast  on  him  thy  care, 
and  he  takes  it  on,  he  cares  for  thee.  His 
royal  word  is  ensragcd  not  to  give  thee  the 
slip,  if  thou  do  really  lay  it  upon  him.  Cast 
thy  burden  upon  the  Lord,  Psalm  Iv.  22  : — 
hand  it  over,  heave  it  U[)on  him — and  he  shall 
sustain  thee;  shall  bear  both,  if  thou  trust 
him  with  both,  both  thee  and  thy  burden  :  He 
shall  never  suffer  the  righteous  lo  be  moved. 

Inf.  1.  The  children  of  God  have  the  only 
sweet  life.  The  world  thinks  not  so,  rather 
looks  on  them  as  poor,  discontented,  lowering 
creatures  ;  but  it  sees  not  what  an  uncaring, 
truly  secure  life  they  are  called  to.  While 
othersare  turmoiling  and  wrestling,  each  with 
his  [)rojects  and  burdens  for  himself,  and  are 
at  length  crushed  and  sinking  under  them  (for 
that  is  the  end  of  all  that  do  for  themselves), 
the  child  of  God  goes  free  from  the  pressure 
of  all  that  concerns  him,  it  being  laid  over  on 
his  God.  If  he  use  his  advantage,  he  is  not 
racked  with  musings,  Oh  .'  what  will  become 
of  this  and  that  ;  but  goes  on  in  the  strength 
of  his  God  as  he  may,  offers  up  poor,  but  sin- 
cere endeavors  to  God,  and  is  sure  of  one  thing, 
that  all  shall  be  well.  He  lays  his  affairs  and 
himself  on  God,  and  so  hath  no  pressing  care; 
no  care  but  the  care  of  love,  how  to  please, 
how  to  honor  his  Lord.  And  in  this,  too,  he 
depends  on  him,  both  for  skill  and  strength  ; 
and  touching  the  success  of  things,  he  leaves 
that  as  none  of  his  to  be  burdened  with,  casts 
it  on  God,  and  since  he  careth  for  it,  they  need 
not  both  care,  his  care  alone  is  sufficient. 
Hence  springs  peace,  inconceivable  peace. 
Be  careful  for  nothing,  but  in  everything,  by 
■prayer  and  supplication,  with  thanksgivint^, 
let  your  requests  be  made  known  unto  God. 
And  the  peace  of  God,  which  passelh  all  un- 
derstanding, shall  keep  your  hearts  and 
minds,  through  Jesus  Christ.  Phil.  iv.  6,  7. 

Inf.  2.  But  truly,  the  godly  are  much  want- 
ing  to  themselves,  by  not  improving  this  their 
privilege.  They  too  often  forget  this  their 
sweet  way,  and  fret  themselves  to  no  purjjose ; 
they  wrestle  with  their  burdens  themselves, 
and  do  not  entirely  and  freely  roll  them  over 
on  God.  They  are  surcharged  with  them, 
and  he  calls  for  them,  and  yet  they  will  not 
give  them  him.  Thev  think  to  sjiare  him, 
but  indeed,  in  this,the_  iisobey,aiul  dishonor, 
and  so  grieve  him  ;  and  they  find  the  grief 
return  on  themselves,  and  yet  can  not  learn 
to  be  wise. 


Vek.  8,  9.J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


34S 


Y^'aV  deal  we  thus  with  our  God  and  with 
our  souls,  grieving  both  at  once  ?  Let  it  never 
be,  that  for  any  outward  thing  thou  perplex 
thyself,  and  ravel  thy  thoughts,  as  in  thickets, 
with  the  cares  of  this  life.  Oh,  how  unsuita- 
ble are  these  to  a  child  of  God,  for  whom  a 
life  so  far  more  excellent  is  provided  I  Hath 
he  prepared  a  kingdom  for  thee,  and  will  he 
not  bestow  thy  charges  in  the  way  tu  it  ? 
Think  it  not:  He  knowelh  you  have  rteed  of 
these  things.  Matt.  vi.  32.  Seek  not  vain 
things,  nor  great  things :  for  these,  it  is  like- 
ly, are  not  fit  for  thee  ;  but  seek  what  is  need- 
ful and  convenient  in  his  judgment,  and  refer 
thyself  to  that. 

Then,  as  for  thy  spiritual  estate,  lay  over 
upon  God  the  care  of  that  too.  Be  not  so 
niucli  in  thorny  questionings,  doubting  and 
disputing  at  every  step.  Oh,  is  this  accepted, 
and  that  accepted,  and,  so  much  deadness  ! 
&c. ;  but  apply  thyself  more  simply  to  thy 
duty.  Lamely  as  it  may  be,  halt  on,  and  be- 
lieve that  he  is  gracious  and  pities  thee,  and 
lay  the  care  of  bringing  thee  through  upon 
him.  Lie  not  complaining  and  arguing,  but 
tip  and  be  donig,  and  the  Lord  shall  be  ivilh 
thee.  1  Chron.  xxii.  16.  [  am  persuaded  that 
many  a  soul  that  hath  some  truth  of  grace, 
falls  much  behind  in  the  progress,  by  this 
accustomed  way  of  endless  questionings. 
Men  can  scarcely  be  brought  to  examine  and 
suspect  their  own  condition,  being  carnally 
secure,  and  satisfied  that  all  is  well  ;  but  then, 
when  once  they  awaken  and  set  to  this,  they 
are  ready  to  entangle  themselves  in  it,  and 
neglect  their  way,  by  poring  on  their  condi- 
tion. They  will  not  set  cheerfully  to  any- 
thing, because  they  want  assurances  and 
height  of  joy  ;  and  this  course  they  take  is 
the  way  to  want  it  still.  Walking  humbly 
and  sincerely,  and  offering  at  thy  duty,  and 
waiting  on  the  Lord,  is  certainly  the  belter 
way,  and  nearer  that  very  purpose  of  thine  : 
for  he  meelelh  him  that  rejoiceth  and  worketh 
righLeousness,  those  that  remeinher  him  in  his 
ways.  Isa.  Ixiv.  5.  One  thing  the  Christian 
should  endeavor  to  obtain,  firm  belief  for  tbe 
church  :  all  the  care  of  that  nmst  be  cast  on 
God,  that  he  will  beauttfij  Zion,  and  perform 
all  his  word  to  her.  And  then  think,  do  I 
trust  him  for  the  whole  church,  and  the  great 
affairs  concerning  ir,  and  shall  I  doubt  him 
for  myself,  or  anything  that  concerns  me  ? 
Do  I  conlidc  in  him  for  the  steering  and  guid- 
ance of  the  whole  shi|),  and  shall  [  be  peevish- 
ly doubling  and  distrusting  about  my  pack 
in  I  ? 

Again,  when  in  addition  to  the  present  and 
the  |)ast,  thou  callest  in  after  evils  by  advance, 
and  art  still  revolving  the  dangers  before,  and 
thy  Weakness.  It  is  good,  indeed,  to  enter- 
tain by  these,  h(jly  fear  and  self'-disiriist  ;  but 
by  that,  be  driven  in  to  trust  on  him  who  un- 
dertakes for  thee,  on  him  in  whom  thy 
strength  lies,  and  be  as  sure  and  confident  in 
him,  as  thou  art,  and  justly  art,  distrustful  of 
thyself. 


Further,  learn  to  proscribe  n  )thing.  Study 
entire  resignation,  for  that  is  thy  great  duty 
and  thy  peace  ;  that  gives  up  all  into  the  hand 
of  thy  Lord,  and  can  it  be  in  a  better  hand  ? 
First,  refer  the  carving  of  outward  things  to 
him,  heartily  and  fully.  Then,  stay  not  there, 
but  so  higher.  If  we  have  renounced  the 
comforts  of  this  world  for  God,  let  us  add  this, 
renounce  even  spiritual  comforts  for  him  too. 
Put  all  in  his  will:  If  t  be  in  light,  blessed 
be  thou  ;  and  if  in  darkness,  even  then,  bless- 
ed be  thou  too.  As  he  saith  of  earthly  trea- 
sures, gold  IS  mine,  and  silver  is  mine — (and 
this  may  satisfy  a  Christian  in  those  two,  to 
desire  no  more  of  them  than  his  Father  sees 
fit  to  give,  knowing  that  he,  having  all  the 
mines  and  treasures  of  the  world  at  his  com- 
mand, would  not  pinch  and  li£ild  short  hia 
children,  if  it  were  good  for  them  to  have 
more)  ;  even  thus  it  is  in  respect  to  the  other, 
the  true  riches:  Is  not  the  Spirit  mine,  may 
God  say,  and  all  comforts  mine?  I  have 
them  to  bestow,  and  enough  of  them.  And 
ought  not  this  to  allay  thy  afflicting  tire,  and 
to  quiet  thy  repinings,  and  establish  thy  .leart, 
in  referring  it  to  his  disposal,  as  touching  thy 
comfort  and  sup[ilies?  The  whole  goldea 
mines  of  all  spiritual  comfort  and  sood  are 
his,  and  the  Spirit  itself.  Then,  will  he  not 
furnish  what  is  fit  for  thee,  if  thou  humbly 
attend  on  him,  and  lay  the  care  of  providing 
for  thee  upon  his  wisdom  and  love  ?  This 
were  the  sure  way  to  honor  him  with  what 
we  have,  and  to  obtain  much  of  what  we 
have  not :  for  certainly  he  deals  best  with  those 
that  do  most  absolutely  refer  all  to  him. 

Vf.r.  S.  B"^  sobor,  be  vii^ilant  ;  because  your  adversa- 
ry the  devil,  as  a  roarinp;  lion,  walketh  about, seek- 
ing wbom  lie  may  devour. 

Vk.h.  9.  Whom  resist,  sleatlfast  in  the  faith,  knowing 
that  the  samn  afflietmns  are  accomplished  in  your 
brethren  lliat  are  in  the  world. 

The  children  of  God,  if  they  rightly  take 
their  Father's  mind,  are  always  disburdened 
of  perplexing  carefulness,  but  never  exempted 
from  diligent  watchfulness.  Thus  we  find 
here,  they  are  allowed,  yea,  enjoined,  to  cast 
all  their  care  upon  their  wise  and  loving  Fa- 
ther, and  are  secured  by  his  care.  He  takes  it 
well  that  they  lay  all  over  on  him,  yea, he  takes 
it  not  well,  when  they  forbear  him,  and  bin- 
den  themselves.  He  hath  provided  a  sweet 
quiet  life  for  them,  could  they  improve  and 
use  it ;  a  calm  and  firm  condition  in  all  the 
storms  and  troubles  that  are  about  them  : 
however  things  go,  to  find  content,  and  be 
carrful  for  nothing. 

Now,  upon  this,  a  carnal  heart  would  im- 
agine straight,  according  to  its  sense  and  in- 
clination— as  it  desires  to  have  it,  so  would  it 
dream  that  it  is — that  then,  a  man  devolving 
his  care  on  God,  may  give  up  nil  watch  and 
ward,  and  needs  not  apply  himself  to  any  kind 
of  duty.  But  this  is  the  ignorant  and  per- 
verse mistake,  the  reasonless  reasoning  of  the 
flesh.  You  see  these  are  here  joined,  not  only 
as  agreeable,  but  indeed  inseparable :  Cast 


344 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[ChAP.  V. 


ail  yovr  care  on  him,  for  he  careth  for  you, 
and  willial,  be  sober,  be  viffi/a/it. 

And  iliis  is  the  Scripiure  logic.  Jt  is  he 
that  tvcrkelh  in  you  to  will  and  to  do.  Pliil. 
ii.  13.  Then,  would  you  possibly  think,  I 
need  not  work  at  all,  or,  if  I  do,  it  may  be 
very  easily  and  securely.  No  :  therefore,  says 
the  apostle,  because  he  worketh  in  you  to 
will  and  to  do,  work  out  y  mr  salvation,  yea, 
and  du  it  with  fear  and  Irinihling  ;  work  you 
in  humble  obedience  to  his  command,  and  in 
dependance  on  him  who  u-orkelk  all  in  you. 

Thus,  here.  Cast  your  care  on  hini,  not 
that  you  may  be  the  more  free  to  take  your 
own  pleasure  and  slothful  ease,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  that  you  may  be  the  more  active 
und  a^>t  to  waich  :  being  freed  from  the  bur- 
den ol  vexing  carefulness,  which  would  [iress 
and  encumber  you,  you  are  the  more  nimble, 
as  one  eased  of  a  load,  to  walk,  and  work, 
and  watch  as  becomes  a  Christian.  And  for 
this  very  [)uri)ose  is  that  burden  taken  ofl'from 
you,  that  you  may  be  more  able  and  disposed 
for  every  duty  that  is  laid  upon  you. 

Observe  these  two  as  connected,  and  thence 
gather  Jirsl,  there  is  no  right  believing  with- 
out diligence  and  watchfulness  joined  with  it. 
That  slothful  reliance  ol'  most  souls  on  blind 
thouglus  of  mercy  will  undo  them  :  their  faith 
is  a  dead  faith,  and  a  deadly  faith  ;  they  are 
perishing  and  will  not  consider  it.  Such  per- 
sons do  not  duly  cast  their  care  on  God  for 
their  souls,  for  indeed  they  have  no  such  care. 
Secondly,  there  is  no  right  diligence  without 
believing. 

There  is,  as  in  other  affairs,  so,  even  in 
spiritual  things,  an  anxious  perplexing  care, 
which  is  a  distemper  and  disturbance  to  the 
soul:  it  seems  to  have  a  heat  of  zeal  and  af- 
fection in  It,  but  is,  indeed,  not  tiie  natural 
right  heat  that  is  liealihl'ul,  and  enables  for 
action,  but  a  diseased,  feverish  heal,  that  puts 
all  out  oi'  frame,  and  unfits  i'or  duly.  It  seems 
to  stir  and  furiher,  but  indeed  it  hinders,  and 
does  not  hasten  us,  but  so  as  to  make  us  stum- 
ble :  as  if  there  was  one  behind  a  man,  dri- 
ving and  thrusting  him  forward,  and  not  suf- 
♦iering  him  to  set  and  order  his  stejjs  in  his 
^.ourse,  this  were  the  ready  way,  instead  of 
advancing  him,  to  weary  him,  and  possibly 
give  him  a  fall. 

Such  is  the  distrustful  care  that  many  have 
in  their  spiritual  course  :  they  raise  a  hundred 
questions  about  ihe  way  of  their  performances, 
and  their  acceptance,  and  their  estate,  and  the 
issue  of  their  endeavors.  Indeed,  we  should 
endeavor  to  do  all  by  our  rule,  and  to  walk 
exactly,  and  examine  our  ways  ;  especially 
in  holy  things,  to  seek  some  insight  and  facul- 
ty in  their  jjcrformance,  suiting  their  nature 
and  end,  and  his  greatness  and  purity  whom 
we  worshij).  This  should  V*  minded  dili- 
gently, and  yet  calmly  and  composedly  ;  for 
diffident  doubtings  do  retard  and  disorder  all. 
But  quiet  sia\  edness  of  heart  on  Cod,  depen- 
dance on  iiim,  on  his  strength  for  performance, 
and  his  I'lee  love  iu  Christ  for  acceptance,  this 


makes  the  work  go  kiiully  and  sweetly  on, 
makes  it  pleasing  to  God,  and  refreshing  to 
thy  soul. 

Inf.  Certainly,  thou  art  a  vexation  tu  thy- 
self, and  disi)leasest  thy  Lord,  when  thou  an 
(jueslioning  whether  thou  shall  go  on  or  not, 
from  linding  in  thy  service  so  much  deadness 
and  hardness;  thinking,  therefore,  that  il  were 
as  good  to  do  nolhing,  that  thou  dost  but  dis- 
honor him  in  all.  Now,  thou  considerest^iot, 
that  in  these  very  ihougliis  thou  dost  more 
wrong  and  dishonor  him  than  in  thy  worst 
services  :  for  thou  callesi  in  question  liis  lenity 
and  eroodness,  lakesl  him  ibr  a  rigorous  exac- 
tor, yea,  represeniesi  him  to  thyself  as  a  hard 
master,  who  is  the  most  gentle  and  gracious 
of  all  masters.  Do  not  use  him  so.  Indeed, 
thou  oughtest  to  lake  heed  to  thy  foot,  to  see 
how  thy  heart  is  all'ected  in  his  worship. 
Keep  and  watch  it  as  thou  canst,  but  in  doing 
so,  or  in  endeavoring  to  do,  however  thou  find 
it,  do  not  think  he  will  use  rigors  with  thee  ; 
but  the  more  thou  observcst  thine  own  mis- 
carriages toward  him,  the  less  severely  will 
he  observe  them.  To  think  otherwise,  to 
fret  and  repine  that  thy  heart  is  not  to  his 
mind,  nor  indeed  to  thine  own,  to  go  on  in  a 
discontented  impatience,  this  is  certainly  not 
the  commanded  watchfulness,  but  that  forbid- 
den carefulness. 

Be  sober.]  This  we  have  formerly  spoken 
of,  the  apostle  having  formerly  exhorted  to  it 
once  and  again  in  this  ei)islle.  It  were  easy 
to  entertain  men's  minds  with  new  discourse, 
if  our  task  were  rather  to  please  than  to  profit ; 
for  there  be  many  things  which,  with  little 
labor,  might  be  brought  forth  as  new  and 
.^irange  to  ordinary  hearers.  But  there  be  a 
few  things  which  chiefly  concern  us  to  know 
and  practise,  and  these  are  to  be  more  fre- 
quently represented  and  pressed.  This  a])os- 
tle,  and  other  inspired  writers,  drew  from  too 
full  a  spring  to  be  ebb  of  matter  ;  but  they 
rather  chose  profitable  iterations,  than  un- 
profitable variety  ;  and  so  ought  we. 

This  sobriety  is  not  only  temperance  in 
meat  and  drink,  but  in  all  things  that  con- 
cern the  flesh.  Even  that  of  diet  is,  though 
not  all,  yet  a  very  considerable  part  of  it ;  and 
this  not  only  hath  implied  in  it,  that  one  ex- 
ceed not  in  the  quantity  or  quality,  but  even 
requires  a  regulating  of  ourselves  in  ihe  man- 
ner of  using  our  repast  :  that  as  we  are  not  to 
make  careful  and  studious  provision,  or  to 
take  up  our  thoughts  how  to  please  our  pal- 
ate, so.  even  in  the  use  of  sober,  mean  diet, 
we  endeavor  the  mortifying  of  our  (iesh,  not 
to  eat  and  drink  merely  to  please  ourselves, 
or  to  satisfy  our  natural  desire,  but  for  God  : 
even  to  propound  this  in  our  sitting  down  to 
it  in  obedience  to  him  ;  to  use  these  helps 
of  life,  and  the  life  itself,  to  be  spent  in  his 
obedience,  <i..j  in  endeavoring  to  advance  his 
glory. 

It  is  a  most  shameful  idol,  a  dunghill-god 
indeed,  to  serve  the  belly,  and  to  delight  in 
leastings,  or,  in  our  oi-i^narv  repast,  laving 


Ver.  8,  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


345 


the  reins  loose  on  our  appetite  to  take  its  owa 
career.  And  yet,  in  this,  men  most  common- 
'y  offend,  even  persons  that  are  not  notably 
intemperate,  neither  gluttonous  nor  drunken, 
and  yet,  I  say,  ^lave  not  that  holy,  retained, 
bridled  way  of  using  their  repast,  with  an  eye 
upon  a  higher  end. 

But  this  sobriety,  in  its  ample  sense,  binds 
not  only  that  sense  of  lust,  but  all  the  rest  in 
the  use  of  their  several  delights,  yea,  and  in 
the  whole  man,  all  the  affections  of  the  soul, 
in  relation  to  this  world,  and  the  things  of  it: 
we  a  d  to  be  in  it  as  weaned  from  it,  and 
raised  above  it  in  the  bent  of  our  minds ;  to 
use  it  as  if  we  used  it  not.   1  Cor.  vii.  31. 

This  we  speak  and  hear  of  but  do  not  ap- 
ply ourselves  really  to  this  rule.  Each  hath 
some  trifle  or  earthly  vanity,  one  or  more,  but 
especially  some  choice  one,  that  he  can  not 
be  taken  off  from  ;  as  children  readily  have 
some  toy  that  they  set  more  by  than  the  rest. 
We  have  childish  hearts  cleaving  to  vanity  ; 
one  hankering  after  some  preferment,  anotiier 
after  some  estate,  lands,  or  houses,  or  money. 
And  we  are  drunk  in  the  pursuit  of  these,  so 
that  when  our  hearts  should  be  fixed  on  Di- 
vine exercises,  they  can  not  stand,  but  reel  to 
and  fro,  or  stumble  down  and  fall  asleep,  ro- 
ving after  those  thoughts  of  that  which  we 
afl'ect,  staggering  ever  and  anon,  or  else  so 
plunged  in  them  all  the  time,  that  we  are  as 
asleep  in  them. 

Therefore,  these  two  are  here,  and  ordina- 
rily, joined,  Be  sober  and  watchful.  Glutting 
ourselves  either  with  the  delights,  or  with  the 
desires  and  cares  of  earth,  makes  us  sleepy  : 
the  fumes  that  arise  from  them  surcharge  us, 
and  cast  us  into  a  deep  sleep — a  secure  un- 
ininding  of  God  and  of  ourselves,  the  interest 
of  our  immortal  souls. 

The  pleasures  of  sense  are  too  gross  for  the 
Divine  soul.  Divine,  I  call  it,  for  so  by  origi- 
nal it  is  ;  but  we  abase  it,  and  make  it  flesh 
by  those  gross  earthly  things,  and  make  it 
unfit  to  rise  heavenward.  As  insobriety,  in- 
temperance in  diet,  prejudices,  the  very  natu- 
ral spirits,  making  them  dull,  clogs  their  pas- 
sage, and  makes  them  move  as  a  coach  in  a 
rniry  wav,  thus  doth  all  inordinate  use  and 
love  of  inferior  things:  it  makes  the  soul  of  a 
low,  heavy  constitution,  so  that  it  can  not 
move  freely  in  anything  that  is  spiritual.  Yea, 
where  there  is  some  truth  of  grace,  yet  it  is 
obstructed  and  dulled  by  taking  in  too  much 
of  the  world,  and  feeding  on  it ;  which  is  no 
more  proper  for  the  finest  part  of  the  man, 
for  the  soul,  than  the  coarse  ploughman's 
diet  is  for  delicate,  tender  bodies  of  higher 
breeding;  yea,  the  disproportion  is  far  greater. 

If  then,  you  would  have  free  spirits  for 
spiritual  things,  keep  them  at  a  spare  diet  in 
all  things  temporal.  Let  not  out  your  hearts 
to  anything  here  below.  Learn  to  delight  in 
God,  and  seek  to  taste  of  his  transcendent 
sweetness:  that  will  perfectly  disrelish  all 
lower  delights.  So  your  sotiriety  in  abstain- 
ing from  them  shall  be  still  further  recom- 
44 


pensed  with  more  enjoyment  of  GoJ.andyou 
shall  not  lose  pleasure  by  denying  yourself  the 
pleasures  of  earth,  but  shall  change  them  for 
those  that  are  unspeakably  better  and  purer 
in  their  stead.  He  shall  communicate  him- 
self unto  you,  the  light  of  whose  countenance 
feeds  and  satisfies  the  glorified  spirits  that  are 
about  his  throne. 

Be  vigilant.]  This  watchfulness,  joined 
with  sobriety,  extends  to  all  the  estates  and 
ways  of  a  Christian,  being  surrounded  with 
hazards  and  snares.  He  that  despiseth  his 
ivay  shall  die,  says  Solomon,  Proveros  xix.  16. 
The  most  do  thus  walk  at  random  :  they  give 
attendance  on  public  worship,  and  have  some 
customary  way  of  private  prayer,  but  do  not 
further  regard  how  they  walk,  what  is  their 
carriage  all  the  day  long,  what  they  speak, 
how  they  are  in  company,  and  how  alone, 
which  way  their  hearts  go  early  and  late, 
what  it  is  that  steals  away  most  of  their  af- 
fection from  God. 

Oh,  my  beloved,  did  we  know  our  continu- 
al danger,  it  would  shak«  "s  out  of  this  mis- 
erable dead  security  that  possesses  us.  We 
think  not  on  it,  but  there  are  snares  laid  for 
us  all  the  way,  in  every  path  we  walk  in,  and 
every  step  of  it ;  in  our  meat  and  drink  ;  in 
our  calling  and  labor  ;  in  our  house  at  home  ; 
in  our  journeying  abroad  ;  yea,  even  in  God's 
house,  and  in  our  spiritual  exercises,  both 
there  and  in  private.  Knew  we,  or  at  least 
considered  we  this,  we  should  choose  our 
steps  more  exactly,  and  look  to  our  ways,  to 
our  words,  to  our  thoughts,  which  truly,  vvhat- 

[  soever  noise  we  make,  we  really  do  not.  Pon- 

'  der  the  -path  of  thi/  feet,  says  Solomon  ;  and 
before  that.  Let  thine  eyes  look  right  on,  and 
let  thine  eyilids  look  straight  before  thee. 

I  And  further.  Put  away  a  froward  mouth,  and 
perverse  lips  put  far  from  thee.    But,  first  of 

t  all,  as  the  main  reason  and  spring  of  all.  Keep 
thy  heart  with  all  diligence,  or  above  all  keep- 
ing, for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  life.  Prov- 
erbs iv.  23-26. 

Because  your  adversary  the  devil.']  An 
alarm  to  watchfulness  is  here  given,  from  the 
watchfulness  of  our  grand  adversary.  There 
be  other  two  usually  ranked  with  him,  as  the 
leading  enemies  of  our  souls,  the  world  and 
our  own  flesh  :  but  here  he  is  exjiressly  named 
who  commands  in  cliicf,  and  orders  and  man- 
ages the  war,  using  the  service  of  the  oilier 
two  against  us,  as  prime  oflicers,  under  which 
most  of  the  forces  of  particular  temptations 
are  ranked.    Some  others  there  be  which  he 

•  irimiediatelv  commands  and  leads  on  himself,  a 

'  regiment  of  his  own,  some  spiritual  tempia- 

\  tions. 

I  And  we  have  need  to  be  put  in  mind  of  the 
'  hostility  and  practices  of  Satan  against  us  ; 
!  for  if  the  most  were  put  to  it,  they  would  be 
forced  to  confess  that  they  very  seldom  think 
on  their  spiritual  dansjer  from  this  hand.  As 
I  we  keep  loose  guard  against  the  allurements 
I  of  the  world,  and  (jf'onr  own  corruption,  so  we 
I  watch  not  against  the  devices  of  Satan,  but 


34^ 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chaf.  f. 


go  on  by  guess,  and  suspect  nothing,  and  so 
arc  easil)  a  prey  lu  all. 

Tlie  least  enemy  being  despised  and  neg- 
Iccied,  ab  men  observe,  proves  ollen  tooiireai. 
The  sirallesi  aiijiearaiices  ol'  evil,  the  least 
thiLii;^  lhai  amy  prejutuce  our  spiritual  good, 
Millie  we  make  no  reekoiiiiig  of  ilieni,  may  do 
Us  great  iiiischiel'.  Our  nut  considering  ihem 
UKiKes  iheiu  become  C(jiisiderable,  especially 
being  under  the  command  of  a  vigilant  and 
skiliul  leader,  who  knows  how  to' improve 
advantages.  Tlierelbre,  in  things  which  we 
many  times  account  petty,  and  not  worthy 
our  notice,  as  having  any  evil  in  them,  we 
siiould  learn  to  suspect  the  address  of  this  ad- 
versary, who  usually  hides  himself,  and  coucli- 
es  under  some  covert,  till  he  may  appear  irre- 
sistible, and  seize  on  us  ;  and  then,  indeed,  he 
'•oars. 

And  this  seeking  the  destruction  of  souls  is, 
you  see,  marked  as  all  his  work.  The  prey 
he  hunts  is  souls,  thai  they  may  be  as  miser- 
able as  himself.  Therefore  he  is  justly  called 
our  adversary,  the  enemy  of  holiness  and  of 
our  souls ;  first  templing  to  sin,  and  then  ac- 
cusing for  sill,  as  his  name  here  imports  ;  ap- 
pearing against  us  upon  the  advantages  he 
hath  gained.  He  studies  our  nature,  and  fits 
his  temptation  to  it ;  knows  the  prevalency 
of  lust,  or  earthliness,  (jr  that  great  and  must 
general  evil  of  pride,  so  like  himself,  and  tiiat 
is  his  throne  m  the  heart,  tjometimes/a'  how- 
tLh  down,  as  it  is  said  uf  the  lion,  Psalm  x.  9  ; 
he  waits  his  opportunity  craftily,  and  then 
assaults  liercely.  And  the  children  of  God 
find  sometimes  so  much  violence  in  his  tempt- 
ations, iliat  they  surprise  them  ;  such  horrid 
thoughts  cast  iu  as  poisoned  arrows,  or  fiery 
darts,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  Eph.  vi.  IB. 
And  this  his  enmity,  though  it  is  against  man 
in  general,  yet  is  most  enraged  against  the 
children  of  God.  He  goes  about  and  spies 
where  they  are  weakest,  and  among  them, 
directs  his  attacks  must  against  tliose  who 
are  most  advanced  in  lioliness,  and  nearest 
unto  God.  They  were  once  under  his  power, 
and  now  being  escaped  I'rum  him,  he  pursues 
them,  as  Tharaoh  did  the  Israelites,  with  all 
his  forces,  raging  and  roaring  after  them,  as 
a  prey  that  was  once  in  iiis  den,  and  under 
his  paw,  and  now  is  rescued. 

The  resemblance  hath  in  it,  his  strength, 
his  diligence,  and  his  cruelty.  His  strength, 
a  Hon  ;  his  diligence,  going  about  and  seek- 
ing;  his  cruelty,  roaring,  and  seeking  to  de- 
vour. 

Inf.  Is  it  not  most  reasonable  hence  to 
press  watchfulness  ;  to  keep  continual  watch, 
to  see  what  comes  in,  and  what  goes  out  ;  to 
try  what  is  under  every  offer  of  the  world, 
every  motion  of  our  own  natural  hearts,  wheth- 
er there  be  not  some  treachery,  some  secret 
intelligence  or  not?  Especially  after  a  time 
of  some  s[)ecial  seasons  of  grace,  and  some 
speci.il  new  supplies  of  grace,  received  in 
such  seasons  (as  after  the  lioly  sacrament), 
tlien  will  he  set  on  most  eagerly,  when  he  | 


knows  of  the  richest  booty.  The  pit  ites  trat 
let  the  shijjs  pass  as  they  go  by  empty,  wmch 
tlu'm  well  when  they  return  richly  laden  .  so 
duih  this  great  pirate.  Did  he  nut  assault  ^ur 
Savior  rtraight  after  his  bainism  ?  6  Trtipu^uji/. 
Mail.  iv.  3. 

And,  that  we  may  watch,  it  concerns  us  lo 
be  sober.  The  insirucliun  is  military  :  a  drunk- 
en soldier  is  not  fit  to  be  on  the  watch.  This, 
most  of  us  are,  with  our  several  fancies  and 
vanities,  and  so  exposed  to  this  adversary. 
And  when  we  have  gained  some  advaiilage  in 
a  conflict,  or  when  the  enemy  seems  to  retire 
and  be  gone,  yet,  even  then,  are  we  to  be 
watchful,  yea,  then  especially.  H  jw  many, 
presuming  on  false  safeties  that  Avay,  and 
sitting  down  to  carouse,  or  lying  down  to 
sleep,  have  been  re-assaulted  and  cut  off!  In- 
vadunl  urbein  somno  viiioi/ye  sfj>ulla?n.  Oh, 
beware  when  you  think  j  oursclves  most  safe  ! 
That  very  thought  makes  ycu  least  safe. 
Keep  always  your  spirits  free  from  surchar- 
ges, and  lavish  profusion  upon  the  world  ; 
keep  from  applying  your  hearts  to  anything 
in  it,  sitting  down  to  it.  Oh  !  no.  Ec  like 
Gideon's  army,  fit  to  follow  God,  and  to  be 
victorious  in  him,  not  lying  down  to  drink, 
but  taking  of  it  only  as  for  necessity,  in  pas- 
sing. Take  our  Savior's  own  word.  Take 
heed  lest  at  any  time  your  hearts  be  sur- 
charged, with  surf  eitings  and  drunkenness,  and 
the  cares  of  this  life.  Luke  xxi.  34.  These 
will  overcharge  you  and  make  you  drunk,  and 
cast  you  asleep. 

Oh,  mind  your  work,  and  your  warfare 
always,  more  than  your  ease  and  ])leasure  ! 
Seek  it  not  here  ;  your  rest  is  not  here.  Oh, 
poor  short  rest,  if  it  were!  But  follow  the 
Lord  Jesus  through  conflicts  and  sufferings. 
A  little  while,  and  you  shall  have  certain  vic- 
tory, and  after  it  everlasting  triumph,  rest, 
and  pleasure,  and  a  feast  that  shall  not  end, 
where  there  is  no  danger  either  of  surfeiting 
or  of  wearying,  but  pure  and  perpetual  delight. 
In  this  persuasion,  you  should  be  abstinent 
and  watchful,  and  endure  hardship,  as  good 
soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  apostle  speaks, 
2  Tim.  xi.  4,  not  entangling  yourselves  with 
the  affairs  of  this  life,  and  thus  be  ready  for 
encounters.  Stand  watching,  and,  if  you  be 
assaulted,  resist. 

Whom  resist,  steadfast  in  the  faith.]  To 
watchfulness,  courage  should  be  joined.  He 
that  watches  and  yields,  seems  rather  to  watch 
to  receive,  than  to  resist  the  enemy. 

And  this  resistance  should  be  continued 
even  against  multiplied  assaults :  for  thou 
hast  to  deal  with  an  enemy  that  will  noteasi- 
ly  give  over,  but  will  try  several  ways,  .md 
will  redouble  his  onsets  ;*  sometimes  very 
thick,  to  weary  thee  out,  sometimes  after  a 
little  forbearance  interposed,  to  catch  thee 
unawares,  when  he  is  not  expected.  But  in 
all,  faint  not,  but  be  steadfast  in  thy  resist- 
ance. 

i)v  yi^Mmv  nvi'iTTavaiv.  i)vSi  viKd'ti',  ov6l  viKtiiiitvQ'^.^ 

Plutakch.  in  vita  Marcel. 


I 


Ver.  8,  9.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


347 


"This  is  easily  said."  say  you,  "  but  how 
mav  it  be?  How  shall  I  be  abie  so  to  do?" 
Thiis  :— 

Steadfast  in  tne  faith.]  The  most  of  men 
are  under  the  power  of  one  of  these  two  evils, 
security  or  distrust  ;  and  out  of  the  one,  we 
readily  fall  into  the  other.  Therefore  the 
apostle  frames  his  exhortations,  arnl  the  argu- 
ments in  support  of  it,  in  opposition  to  boih 
these ;  first,  against  security  in  the  former 
verse.  Be  sober  and  lualch,  and  presses  that 
by  the  proper  argument  of  great  and  continu- 
ing danger  ;  here  against  distrust,  Wliom  re- 
sist, steadfast  in  the  faith,  and  he  adds  an  en- 
couraging consideration  of  the  common  con- 
'  dition  of  the  children  of  God  in  the  world. 
Knowinir  that  the  same  afflictions  are  accom- 
plished in  your  brethren. 

Steadfast,  or  solid,  by  faith.]  This  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  resistance.  A  man  can 
not  fight  upon  a  quagmire  ;  there  is  no  stand- 
ing out  wiih,out  a  standing,  some  firm  ground 
to  tread  upon  ;  and  thisfairh  alone  furnishes. 
It  lifts  the  soul  up  to  the  firm  advanced 
ground  of  the  promises,  and  fastens  it  there  ; 
and  there  it  is  sure,  even  as  Mount  Zion, 
that  can  not  he  removed.  He  says  not,  stead- 
fast by  your  own  resolutions  and  purposes, 
but  steadfast  by  faith.  The  power  of  God, 
by  faith  becomes  ours;  for  that  is  contained 
and  engaged  in  the  word  of  promise.  Faith 
lays  hold  there,  and  there  finds  Almighty 
strength.  And  this  is  our  victory,  savs  the 
aposile  8t.  .John,  whereby  we  overcome  the 
world  even  oar  faith.  1  John  V.  4.  So  faith 
is  our  victory,  whereby  we  overcome  the 
prince  of  this  world.  Whom  resist, stead  fast 
in  the  faith.  And,  universally,  all  difl^cul- 
ties,  and  all  enemies,  are  overcome  by  faith. 
Faith  sets  ihe  stronger  Lion  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah,  against  this  roaring  lion  of  the  bot- 
tomless pit  ;  that  delivering  Lion,  against 
this  devouring  lion. 

When  the  soul  is  surrounded  with  enemies 
on  all  hands,  so  that  there  is  no  way  of  e.s- 
cape,  faiih  flies  above  them,  and  carries  up 
the  soul  to  lake  refuge  in  Christ,  and  is  there 
safe.  That  is  the  [)ovver  of  faith  ;  it  sets  a 
soul  in  Christ,  and  there  it  looks  down  upon 
all  temptations  as  at  the  bwttom  of  the  rock, 
breaking  themselves  into  foam.  When  the 
floods  of  temptation  rise  and  gather,  so  great 
and  so  many,  that  the  soul  is  even  ready  to  be 
swallowed  up,  then,  by  faith,  it  says,  Lord 
Jesus,  thou  an  my  strength,  I  look  to  thee 
for  deliverance;  now  appear  for  my  help! 
And  thus  it  overcomes.  The  guilt  of  sin  is 
answered  by  his  blood,  the  power  of  sin  is 
conquered  by  his  Spirit;  and  afflictions  that 
arise  are  nothing  to  these  :  his  love  and  gra- 
cious preserce  make  them  sweet  and  easy. 

We  mistake,  if  we  think  to  do  anything, 
5r  to  be  anything  without  him  :  and  we  mis- 
take again,  if  we  think  anything  too  hard  to 
be  done  or  suffered  with  him.  Without  me 
you  can  do  nothing,  says  fie,  John  xv.  b  ;  and 
/  am  able  do  all  things,  says  the  apostle,  or 


can  all  things,  ^'nra  layiw  (so  the  word  is), 
through  Christ  that  strengthens  me.  Phil.  iv. 
13.  All  things  !  Oh,  that  is  a  big  word,  yet 
it  is  a  true  word  ;  and  thus  made  good — 
through  Christ  empowering  me;  that  frees 
it  both  from  falsehood  and  vanity.  An  hum- 
ble confidence,  for  it  is  not  in  himself,  but  in 
Christ ;  and  this  boasting  is  good.  My  soui. 
shall  make  her  boast  in  God,  says  David, 
Psalm  xxxiv.  2.  Oh,  they  alone  have  war- 
rant to  boast  and  to  triumph,  even  before  tfie 
victory,  who  do  it  in  this  style !  Such  may 
give  a  challenge  to  all  the  world,  to  all  ad- 
verse powers  of  earth  and  hell,  as  the  apostle 
doth  in  his  own  and  every  believer's  name, 
Rom.  viii.  35,  38  :  Who  shall  separate  u» 
from  the  love  of  Christ  ?  &c.  See  the  vic- 
tory recorded  in  this  same  way,  Apoc.  xii. 
11:  And  ihcij  overcame  him — but  how?— 
the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  by  the  word  of 
their  testimony.  That  blood,  and  the  word  of 
their  testimony,  believing  that  word  con- 
cerning that  blood,  these  are  the  strength  and 
victory  of  a  Christian. 

Inf.  Although,  then,  thou  seest  thyself  the 
most  witless  and  weak,  and  findest  thyself 
nothing  but  a  prey  to  the  powers  of  darkness, 
yet  know  that,  by  believing,  the  wisdom  and 
strength  of  Christ  are  thine.  Thou  an,  and 
ouglitest  to  find  thyself,  all  weakness  ;  but 
he  is  all  strength,  Alinightiness  itself.  Learn 
to  apply  his  victory,  and  so  it  is  thine  Be 
strong — how  ? — in  him,  and  the  power  .;/"  his 
might.  But  thou  wilt  say,  I  am  often  foiled, 
yea,  [  can  not  find  that  I  j)revail  at  all  against 
mine  enemies,  but  they  still  against  nie.  Yei 
rely  on  him:  he  can  turn  the  chase  in  an  in- 
stant. Still  cleave  to  him.  Wficn  tlie  wfiole 
powers  of  thy  soul  are,  as  it  were,  scattered 
and  routed,  rally  them  by  believing.  Draw 
thou  but  unto  the  standard  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  the  day  shall  be  thine;  for  victory  fol- 
lows that  standard,  and  can  not  be  severed 
from  it.  Yea,  though  thou  find  ifie  smart  of 
divers  strokes,  yet,  think  that  often  a  wound- 
ed soldier  bath  won  the  day.  Believe,  and  it 
shall  be  so  with  thee. 

And  remember  that  thy  defeats,  through 
the  wisdom  and  love  of  thy  God,  may  be  or- 
dered to  advance  the  victory  ;  to  put  courage 
and  holy  anger  into  thee  against  tliinc  ene- 
mies ;  to  huml)le  thee,  and  drive  thee  from 
from  thine  own  imagined  strength,  to  make 
use  of  his  real  strength.  And  be  not  hasty; 
think  not  at  the  very  first  to  conquer.  Many 
a  hard  conflict  must  thou  resolve  upon,  and 
often  shall  thou  be  brought  very  low,  almost 
to  a  desperate  point,  to  thy  sense,  past  recov- 
ery ;  then  it  is  his  time  to  step  in,  even  in  the 
midst  of  their  prevailing.  Let  God  but  arise, 
and  his  enemies  shall  be  scattered.  Psalm 
Ixviii.  1.  Thus  the  church  hath  found  it  in 
her  greatest  extremities,  and  thus  likewise 
the  believing  soul. 

Knowing  that  the  same  afflictions  are  aC' 
complishfd  in  your  brethren  thai  are  in  the 
world.]  I'.iere  is  one  thing  that  much  trou- 


A  COMMENTARY  tTPON  THE 


[Chap.  ✓ 


blcs  ihe  patience  and  weakens  the  faith,  of 
soiiu  Christians  ;  iliey  are  ready  to  think 
tliere  is  no  one,  yea  tliat  that  there  never  was 
any  one  beloved  of  God,  in  such  a  condition 
as  theirs.  Tiius  sumetinies  they  swell  even 
their  oiaward  trials  in  imagination,  but  olten- 
er  their  inward  ones,  which  are  most  heavy 
and  pressing  to  themselves,  and  the  parallel 
of  them  in  others  least  discernible  by  them. 
Therefore  the  apostle  fSt.  Paul  breaks  this 
conceit,  1  Cor.  x.  13.  No  Icmptution  liath  ta- 
ken you,  but  such  an  is  common  to  men.  And 
'here  is  the  same  truth.  The  same  afflictions 
are  accompHs/ied  in  your  brethren. 

But  we  had  rather  hear  of  ease,  and  can 
not,  after  all  that  is  said,  bring  our  hearts  to 
comply  with  this,  that  temptations  and  trou- 
bles are  the  saints'  portion  here,  and  that  this 
is  the  royal  way  to  the  kingdom.  Our  King 
led  ii,  and  all  his  followers  go  the  same  way  ; 
and  besides  the  happy  end  of  it,  is  it  not 
sweet,  even  for  this,  simply,  because  he  went 
in  it?  Yet,  this  is  the  truth,  and,  taken  al- 
together, is  a  most  conformable  truth:  the 
whole  brotherhood,  alJ  our  brethren,  go  in  it, 
and  our  Eldest  Brother  went  first. 

Ver.  10.  But  the  God  of  all  srace  who  hath  called  us 
unto  his  eternal  joy  by  Christ  Jesus,  alter  that  ye 
have  suffered  a  while,  make  you  perfect,  stablish, 
strengthen,  settle  you. 

His  divine  doctrine  and  exhortations,  the 
apostle  closes  with  prayer,  as  we  follow  his 
rule  in  public  afier  the  word  preached.  So 
St.  Paul  frequenlly  did,  and  so  Christ  him- 
self, John  xvii.,  after  that  sermon  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapters.  It  were  well  if  both  minis- 
ters and  jieople  would  follow  the  same  way 
more  in  private,  each  for  themselves,  and 
each  for  the  other.  The  want  of  this  is 
mainly  the  thing  that  makes  our  preaching 
and  hearing  so  barren  and  fruitless.  The 
ministers  of  the  gospel  should  indeed  be  as 
the  angels  of  God,  going  between  him  and 
his  people  ;  not  only  bringing  down  useful 
instructions  from  God  to  them,  but  putting 
up  earnest  snpplications  to  God  for  them.  In 
the  tenth  chapter  of  St.  Luke,  the  disciples 
are  sent  forth  and  appointed  to  preach  ;  and 
in  the  eleventh,  we  have  them  desiring  to  be 
taught  to  pray  :  Lord  teach  us  to  jirny.  And 
without  this,  there  can  be  little  answer  or 
success  in  the  other  ;  little  springing  up  of 
this  seed,  though  ministers  sow  it  plentifully 
m  preaching,  unless  they  secretly  water  it 
with  their  prayers  and  their  tears. 

And  peojile,  truly,  should  keep  some  corre- 
.'pondence  in  this  duty,  and  that,  if  other  ob- 
ligation will  not  persuade,  even  for  their  own 
advantage  ;  for  it  returns  unto  them  with 
abundant  interest.  If  much  of  the  Spirit  be 
ptiured  forth  on  ministers,  are  they  not  tl.  * 
mote  able  able  to  unfold  the  spiritual  mysta 
ries  of  the  gospel,  and  to  build  up  their  peo- 
le  in  the  knowledge  of  them?  Oh,  that 
oih  of  us  were  more  abundant  in  this  rich 
and  sweet  exercise ! 

But  the  God  o,*  all  grace,  who  hath  called 


us  to  eternal  glory  by  Christ  Jesns.]  This 
player  suiis  the  ajiosile  St.  Paul's  word,  in 
liis  direction  to  the  Philippians  (chap.  iv.  6) , 
it  is  supplication  with  thanksgiving,  prayer 
with  ])raise.  In  the  prayer  or  jietition,  con- 
sider, 1st,  the  matter,  and  2dly,  the  style. 

The  matter,  or  thing  requested,  is  ex 
pressed  in  divers  brief  words,  Make  you  per 
feet,  stablish,  strengthen,  settle  you  ;  which, 
though  they  be  much  of  the  same  sense, 
yet  are  not  superfluously  muhiiilicd,  for  they 
carry  both  the  great  importance  of  the  thin^, 
and  the  earnest  desire  in  asking  it.  And 
though  it  be  a  little  light  and  unsolid,  to 
frame  a  different  sense  to  each  of  them  (nor 
are  any  of  the  ways  that  such  interpreters 
have  taken  in  it,  very  satisfactory  to  any  dis- 
cerning judgment)  ;  yet  I  conceive  they  are 
not  altogether  without  some  i)roiiiable  differ- 
ence. The  first  [perfect],  implies,  more 
clearly  than  the  rest,  their  advancement  in 
victory  over  their  remaining  corruptions  and 
infirmities,  and  their  progress  toward  perlec- 
tion.  Stal/lish,  hath  more  express  reference 
to  both  tlie  inward  lightness  and  inconstancy 
that  are  natural  to  us,  and  the  counterblasts 
of  persecutions  and  temptations,  outward  op- 
positions :  and  it  imports  the  curing  of  the 
one,  and  sujiport  against  the  other.  Strength' 
en,  has  respect  to  the  growth  of  their  graces, 
especially  the  gaining  of  further  measures  of 
those  graces  wherein  they  are  weakest  and 
lowest.  And  settle,  though  it  seems  the 
same,  and  in  substance  is  the  same  with  the 
other  word,  stablish,  yet  it  adds  somewhat  to 
it  very  worthy  of  consideration  ;  for  it  signi- 
fies, to  found  or  fix  upon  a  sure  foundation, 
and  so,  indeed,  may  have  an  aspect  to  him 
who  is  the  foundation  and  strength  of  believ- 
ers, on  whom  they  build  by  faith,  even  Jesus 
Christ,  in  whom  we  have  all,  both  victory 
over  sin,  and  increase  of  grace,  and  establish- 
ment of  spirit,  and  power  to  persevere  against 
all  difficullies  and  assaults.  He  is  that  cor- 
ner foundation-stone  laid  in  Zion,  that  they 
that  build  upon  him  may  not  be  ashamed,  Isa 
xxviii.  16;  that  Rock  that  upholds  the  house 
founded  on  it,  in  the  midst  of  all  winds  and 
storms.    Matt.  vii.  ult. 

Observe:  Isl,  These  expressions  have  in 
them  that  which  is  primarily  to  be  sought 
after  by  every  Christian,  perseverance  and 
progress  in  grace.  These  two  are  here  in- 
terwoven ;  for  there  be  two  words  importing 
the  one,  and  two  the  other,  and  they  are  in- 
terchangeably placed.  This  is  often  urged 
on  Christians  as  their  duty,  and  accordingly 
ought  they  to  apply  themselves  to  it,  and  use 
their  highest  diligence  in  it;  not  to  take  the 
beginning  of  Christianity  for  the  end  of  it,  to 
think  it  enough,  if  they  are  entered  into  the 
way  of  it,  and  to  sit  down  upon  the  entry; 
but  to  walk  on,  to  go  from  stren'^th  to 
strength,  and  even  through  the  greatest  diffi- 
culties  and  discouragements,  to  pass  forward 
with  unmoved  stability  and  fixedness  of  mind. 
They  ought  to  be  aimin.(=r  at  nerfection.   It  is 


<ER.  10.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


349 


true,  we  shall  still  fall  exceedingly  short  of 
it ;  but  the  more  we  study  it,  the  nearer  shall 
we  come  to  it  ;  the  higher  we  aim,  the  high- 
er shall  we  siioot,  though  we  shoot  not  so 
high  as  we  aim. 

It  is  an  excellent  life,  and  it  is  the  proper 
life  of  a  Christian,  to  be  daily  outstripping 
himself,  to  be  spiritually  wiser,  holier,  more 
heavenly-minded  to-day  than  yesterday,  and 
to-morrow  (if  it  be  added  to  his  life)  than  to- 
day ;  Suavissima  viia  est  indiex  sentire  se  fieri 
meliorem  :  every  day  loving  the  world  less, 
and  Christ  more,  than  on  the  former,  and 
gaining  every  day  some  further  victory  over 
his  secret  corruptions  ;  having  his  passions 
more  subdued  and  mortified,  his  desires  in  all 
temporal  things  more  cool  and  indifferent, 
and  in  spiritual  thinsrs,  more  ardent  ;  that 
miserable  liirhtness  of  spirit  cured,  and  his 
heart  rendered  more  solid  and  fixed  upon  God, 
aspiring  to  more  near  communion  with  him, 
and  laboring  that  particular  graces  may  be 
made  more  lively  and  strong,  by  often  exer- 
cising and  stirring  them  up  ;  faith  more  con- 
firmed and  stayed,  love  more  inflamed,  com- 
posed meekness  producing  more  deep  humil- 
ity. Oh,  this  were  a  worthy  ambition  in- 
deed !  You  would  have  your  estates  grow- 
ing, and  your  credit  growing ;  how  much 
rather  should  you  seek  to  have  your  graces 
grov/ing,  and  not  be  content  with  anything 
you  have  atiained  to! 

Ohs.  2(1.  But  ail  our  endeavors  and  dili- 
gence in  this  will  be  vain,  unless  we  look  for 
our  perfecting  and  establishing  from  that 
riirht  hand,  without  which  we  can  do  noth- 
ing. Tliiiiier  the  apostle  moves  his  desires 
for  his  brethren,  and  so  teaches  them  the 
same  address  for  themselves:  The  God  of 
all  srucc  make  'ijou  ferfect. 

This  prayer  is  grounded  (as  all  prayer  of 
faith  must  be)  on  the  promise  and  covenant 
of  God.  He  is  our  rock,  and  his  work  is  per- 
feet.  Deut.  xxxii.  4.  He  doth  not  begin  a 
building,  and  then  leave  it  off:  none  of  his 
designs  break  in  the  middle,  or  fall  short  of 
their  end.  //'■  will  perfect  that  good  work 
which  he  hath  he'^un,  to  the  day  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Phil.  i.  6.  And  how  often  is  he calleil 
the  stremrth  of  those  that  trust  in  him,  their 
buckler,  and  his  way  perfect.  Psalm  xviii.  30. 

Hence  is  the  stability  of  grace,  the  perse- 
verance of  the  saints  ;  it  is  founded  upon  his 
unchangeableness.  Not  that  they  are  un- 
changeable, though  truly  sanctified,  if  they 
and  their  graces  were  left  to  their  own  man- 
agement :  no,  it  is  he  who  not  only  gives  that 
rich  portion  to  those  he  adopts  to  be  his  chil- 
dren, but  keeps  it  for  them,  and  them  in  the 
possession  of  it.  He  maintains  the  lot  of  our 
inheritance.  Psalm  xvi.  5.  And  to  build  that 
persuasion  of  perseverance  upon  his  truth  and 
power  engaged  in  it,  is  no  presumption  ;  yea, 
it  is  high  dishonor  to  him  to  question  it. 

But  when  nature  is  set  to  judge  of  grace,  il 
must  speak  according  to  itself,  and  therefore 
my  unsuitably  to  that  which  it  speaks  of. 


Natural  wits  apprehend  not  the  spiritual  ten- 
or  of  the  covenant  of  grace,  but  model  it  to 
their  own  principles,  and  disguise  it :  they 
think  of  nothing  but  their  resolves  and  moral 
purposes  ;  or  if  they  take  up  with  some  con- 
fused notion  of  grace,  they  imagine  it  put  into 
their  own  hands,  to  keep  or  to  lose  it,  and  will 
not  stoop  to  a  continual  dcp endance  on  the 
strength  of  Another,  rallier  choosing  thai 
game  of  hazard,  though  it  is  certain  loss  and 
undoing,  to  do  for  themselves. 

But  the  humble  believer  is  otherwise 
taught ;  he  hath  not  so  learned  Christ.  He 
sees  himself  beset  with  enemies  without, 
and  buckled  to  a  treacheroi-s  heart  within, 
that  will  betray  him  to  them  ;  and  he  dares 
no  more  trust  himself  to  hims?lf,  than  to  his 
most  professed  enemies.  Thus  it  ought  to  be, 
and  the  more  the  heart  is  brought  to  this 
humble  petitioning  for  that  ability,  and 
strengthening,  and  perfecting,  from  God,  the 
more  shall  it  find  both  stability,  and  peace 
from  the  assurance  of  that  siabi^ty. 

And  certainly,  the  more  the  CI  ristiai.  ,s  ac- 
quainted with  himself,  the  more  will  he  go 
out  of  himself  for  his  perfecting  and  estab- 
lishing. He  finds  that  when  he  thinks  to  go 
forward,  he  is  driven  backward,  and  that  sin 
gets  hold  of  him,  oftentimes  when  he  thought 
to  have  smitten  it.  He  finds  that  such  is  the 
miserable  inconstancy  of  his  heart  in  spirit- 
ual things,  the  vanishing  of  his  purposes  and 
breaking  off  of  his  thoughts,  that  they  usu- 
ally die  ere  they  be  brought  forth  :  so  that 
when  he  hath  thought,  I  will  pray  more  rev- 
erently, and  set  myself  to  behold  God  when 
I  speak  to  him,  and  watch  more  over  my 
heart  ttiat  it  fly  not  out  and  leave  me— pos- 
sibly the  first  time  he  sets  to  it,  thinking  to 
be  master  of  his  intention,  he  finds  himself 
more  scattered,  and  disordered,  and  dead, 
than  at  any  time  before.  When  he  hath  con- 
ceived thoughts  of  humility  and  self-abase- 
ment, and  thinks,  "  Now  I  am  down,  and  laid 
low  within  myself,  to  rise  and  look  big  no 
more" — some  vain  fancy  creeps  in  anon,  and 
encourages  him,  and  raises  him  up  to  his  old 
estate ;  so  that  in  this  plight,  had  he  not 
higher  strength  to  look  ai,  he  would  sit  down 
and  give  over  all,  as  utterly  hopeless  of  ever 
attaining  to  his  journey's  end. 

But  when  he  considers  whose  worit  that  is 
within  him,  even  these  small  beginnings  of 
desires,  he  is  encouraged  by  the  greatness  of 
the  work,  not  to  despise  and  despair  of  the 
small  appearance  of  it  in  its  beginning,  not 
to  despise  the  day  of  small  things,  Zech.  iv. 
10  ;  and  knowing  that  it  is  not  hi/  am,  power, 
nor  hy  might,  but  by  his  Spirit,  that  it  shall 
be  accomplished,  he  lays  hold  on  that  word, 
Thou'rh  thy  beginning  he  small,  yet  thy  latter 
end  shall  greatly  increase.  Job.  viii  7. 

The  believer  looks  to  .Tesus,  [  i  v-o'  ii/rf!],  Heb. 
xii.  2 — looks  off  from  all  opposiiions  and  dif- 
ficulties, looks  above  them  to  Jesus,  the  au- 
thor and  finisher  of  our  faith  ;  author,  and 
therefore  finisher.    Thus,  that  royal  dignity 


350 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  V 


is  interestra  in  the  naintenance  and  comple- 
tion of  wliat  he  haih  \vi\>u<;lit.  Koiwiih- 
siaudin<r  all  tliy  iniiierf'et'ii(.ns,  ami  the 
strength  of  sin,  lie  can  and  will  subdue  it. 
Kotwllhsiandiiig  tliy  condition  is  so  light  and 
loose,  that  it  were  easy  (or  any  wind  oi'  teiup- 
lation  to  blow  thee  away,  yet  he  shall  bold 
tliee  in  his  right  hand,  and  tiiere  thou  sbalt 
be  lirm  as  the  eartli,  that  is  so  settled  by  his 
hand,  that  though  it  hangs  by  nothing,  yet 
nothing  can  remove  it.  Though  thou  art 
weak,  he  is  strong  :  and  it  is  he  that  slreugth- 
eits  thee,  and  reneics  thy  streyt^th,  Isa.  xl.28: 
when  it  seems  to  be  gone  and  quite  spent, 
he  makes  it  Iresh,  and  greater  than  ever  be- 
fore. The  word  here  rendered  reitnc,  signi- 
fies cAflwiTf :  they  shall  have,  Ibr  their  own, 
his  strength.  A  weak  believer,  and  his  strong 
Savior,  will  be  too  hard  for  all  that  can  rise 
against  them.  It  is  here  fit,  as  in  statutes, 
hoimncm  cum  bast  metiri,  to  measure  the  man 
with  the  basis  on  which  he  stands  :  and  there 
is  no  taking  the  right  measure  of  a  Christian 
but  in  that  way. 

Thou  art  now,  indeed,  exposed  to  great 
storms  and  tempests,  but  he  builds  thee  on 
i  mself,  makes  thee,  by  believing,  to  found 
on  him  :  and  so,  though  the  winds  blow  and 
the  rain  fall,  yet  thou  standest,  being  built 
on  him.  thy  rock.  And  this,  indeed,  is  our 
safety,  the  more  we  cleave  to  our  Rock  and 
fasten  on  liiin.  This  is  the  only  thing  that 
establishes  us,  and  "perfects,  and  strengtliens 
us;  therefore,  Avell  is  that  word  added,  'f/it- 
Xtuau.  found  you,  or  settle  you,  on  your  foun- 
d  tion.  This  is  the  firmness  of  the  church 
against  the  gates  of  hell  :  he  is  a  strong  found- 
ation for  iis  establishment,  and  a  living  found- 
ation, having  influence  into  the  buildinff,  for 
perfecting  it ;  for  it  is  a  living  house,  and  the 
foundation  is  a  root  sending  life  into  the 
stones,  so  that  they  grow  up,  as  this  apostle 
speaks,  ch.  ii.  4. 

It  is  the  inactivity  of  faith  on  Jesus,  that 
keeps  us  so  imperfect,  and  wrestling  still 
wiith  our  corruptions,  without  any  advance- 
ment. We  wrestle  in  our  own  strength  too 
often,  and  so  arejustly,  yea,  necessarily,  foil- 
ed ;  it  can  not  be  otherwise  till  we  make  him 
our  strength.  This  we  are  still  forgetting, 
and  had  need  to  be  put  in  mind  of,  and  ought 
frequently  to  remind  ourselves.  We  would 
be  at  doing  for  ourselves,  and  insensibly  fall 
into  this  folly,  even  after  much  smarting  for 
it,  if  we  be  no'  watchful  against  it.  There 
is  this  wretched  natural  independency  in  us, 
that  is  so  hard  to  beat  out.  All  our  project- 
ings  are  but  castles  in  the  air,  imaginary 
buildings  without  a  foundation,  till  once  laid 
on  Christ.  But  never  shall  we  find  heari- 
peace,  sweet  peace,  and  progress  in  holiness, 
till  we  be  driven  from  it,  lo  make  him  all  our 
strength  :  till  we  be  brought  to  do  nothing, 
to  attempt  nothing,  to  hope  or  expect  noth- 
ing, hut  in  him  :  and  then  shall  we  indeed  find 
his  fulness  and  all-sufliciency  ,and  be  more  than 
conquerors  through  hurt  who  hath  loved  us. 


But  the  God  of  nil  grace.]  By  reason  of 
our  many  wants  and  great  weakness,  we  had 
need  to  have  a  very  full  hand  and  a  very 
strong  hand  to  go  to  for  our  supplies  and  for 
support.  And  such  we  have  indeed  :  our  fa- 
ther is  the  God  of  all  grace,  a  spring  that 
can  not  be  drawn  dry,  no,  nor  so  much  as  any 
whit  diminished. 

The  God  of  all  grace  :  the  God  of  imp'Jted 
grace,  of  infused  and  increased  grace,  of  fur 
nished  and  assisting  grace.  The  work  of  sal- 
vation is  all  grace  from  beginning  to  end. 
Free  grace  in  tiic  plot  of  it,  laid  in  the  coun- 
sel of  God,  and  performed  by  his  own  hand 
all  of  it ;  his  Son  sent  in  the  flesh,  and  his 
Spirit  sent  into  the  hearts  of  his  chosen,  to 
applv  Christ.  All  grace  is  in  him,  the  liv- 
ing spring  of  it,  and  hows  from  him  ;  all  the 
various  actings,  and  all  the  several  degrees  oi 
grace.  He  is  the  God  of  pardoning  grace, 
who  bloiteth  out  tht  ansgresswYis  of  his 
own  children,  for  his  t  mi  na>)ie\^  sake  (Isa. 
xliii.  25),  who  takes  up  all  quarrels,  and 
makes  one  act  of  oblivion  serve  for  all  re»k 
onings  between  him  and  them.  And,  as  he  is 
the  God  of  pardoning  grace,  so  withal,  the 
God  of  sanctifying  grace,  who  refines  and  jm- 
rifies  all  those  he  means  to  makeuj)  into  ves- 
sels of  glory,  and  haih  in  his  liand  all  the  fit 
means  and  ways  of  doing  this  ;  purifies  them 
by  afflictions  and  outward  trials,  by  the  re- 
proachesand  hatreds  of  the  world.  The  pro- 
fane world  know  little  how  serviceable  they 
are  to  the  graces  and  comforts  of  a  Christian, 
when  they  dishonor  and  persecute  him  ;  yea, 
little  doth  a  Christian  himself  sometimes 
think  how  great  his  advantage  is  by  those 
thinirs,  till  he  finds  it,  and  wonders  at  his  fa- 
ther's wisdom  and  love.  But  most  poAverful- 
ly  are  the  children  of  God  sanctified  by  the 
Spirit  within  them,  Avithoiit  which,  indeed, 
no  other  thing  could  be  of  any  advantage  to 
them  in  this.  That  divine  fire  kindled  with- 
in them,  is  daily  refining  and  sublimating 
them,  that  Spirit  of  Christ  conquering  sin, 
and  by  the  mighty  flame  of  his  love,  consum- 
ing the  earth  and  dross  that  is  in  them  ;  ma- 
king their  affections  more  spiritual  and  disen- 
gaged from  all  creature-delights.  And  thus, 
as  they  receive  the  beginnings  of  grace  free- 
Iv,  so  all  the  advances  and  increases  of  it ; 
life  from  their  Lord  still  flowing  and  causing 
I  them  to  grow,  abating  the  power  of  sin, 
strengthening  a  fainting  faith,  quickening  a 
languishing  love,  teaching  the  soul  the  ways 
I  of  wounding  strong  corruptions,  and  fortify- 
I  ing  its  weak  graces  ;  yea,  in  wonderful  ways 
advancing  the  good  of  his  children  by  things 
not  only  harsh  to  them,  as  afl^ictions  and  temp- 
tations' but  by  what  is  directly  opposite  in  lis 
nature,  sin  itself ;  raising  them  by  their  falls, 
and  strengthening  them  by  their  very  trou- 
bles ;  working  them  to  humility  and  vigilance, 
and  sending  them  to  Christ  for  strength,  by  the 
experience  of  iheir  weaknesses  and  failings. 

And  as  he  is  the  God  of  pardoning  grace 
and  of  sanctifying  grace  in  the  beginning  and 


Ver.  10.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


351 


growth  of  it,  so  also  the  God  of  supporting 
grace,  of  that  supervenient  influence  without 
which  the  graces  placed  within  us  would  lie 
dead,  and  fail  us  in  the  time  of  greatest  need. 
This  is  the  inimediaie  assisting  power  that 
bears  up  the  soul  under  the  hardest  service, 
and  backs  it  in  the  sharpest  conflicts,  com- 
municating fresh  auxiliary  strength,  when 
we,  with  alt  the  grace  we  have  dwelling 
within  us,  are  surcharged. 

Then  he  steps  in,  and  opposes  his  strength 
to  a  prevailing  and  confident  enemy,  that  is 
at  the  point  of  insulting  and  triumph.  When 
ternptations  have  made  a  breach,  and  enter 
with  full  force  and  violence,  he  lets  in  so 
much  present  help  on  a  sudden,  as  makes 
them  give  back,  and  beats  them  out.  When 
tJie  enemy  comes  in  as  a  flood,  the  Spirit  of  (he 
Lord  lifts  up  a  standard  against  him.  Isa. 
lix.  11.  And  no  siege  can  be  so  close  as  to 
keep  out  this  aid,  for  it  comes  from  above. 

And  by  this,  a  Christian  learns  that  his 
strength  is  in  God  ;  whereas,  if  his  received 
grace  were  always  party  enouirh,  and  able 
to  make  itself  good  against  all  incursions, 
'.^<)U^ll  we  know  we  have  received  it,  yet  be- 
ing within  us,  we  should  possibly  sometimes 
forget  the  receipt  of  it,  and  look  on  it  more  as 
ours  than  as  his  ;  more  as  being  within  us, 
than  as  flowing  from  him.  But  when  all  the 
forces  we  have,  the  standing  garrison,  are  by 
far  overmatched,  and  yet  we  find  the  assail- 
ants beaten  back,  then  we  must  acknowledge 
him  who  sends  such  seasonable  relief,  to  be, 
as  the  psalmist  speaks,  a  very  present  help  m 
tronhle.    Psalm  xlvi.  1. 

All  St.  Paul's  constant  strength  of  grace  in- 
herent in  him,  could  not  I'ence  him  so  well,  as 
to  ward  oflT  the  piercing  point  of  that  sharp 
temptation,  whatsoever  it  was,  which  he  re- 
cords, 2  Cor.  xii.  7.  The  redoubled  buffet- 
mgs  that  he  felt,  came  so  thick  upon  him, 
that  he  was  driven  to  his  knees  by  it  to  cry 
for  help  to  be  sent  down,  without  which  he 
found  he  could  not  hold  out ;  and  he  had  an 
answer  assuring  him  of  help,  a  secret  support 
that  should  maintain  them  :  "  My  'yrace  is  suf- 
ficient for  then :  "y.  d.,  "  Though  thine  own  f)e 
not,  that  is,  the  grace  which  I  have  already 
given  thee,  yet  mine  is,  that  is,  the  grace 
which  is  in  me,  and  which  I  will  put  forth 
for  thy  assistance." 

And  this  is  our  great  advantage  and  com- 
fort, that  we  have  a  Protector  who  is  almigh- 
ty, and  who  is  alwnys  at  hand,  who  can  and 
will  hear  us  whensoever  we  are  beset  and 
straitened.  That  captain  had  reason,  who, 
on  being  required  to  keep  Milan  for  the  king 
of  France,  went  up  to  the  highest  turret,  and 
cried  out  three  times,  "  King  of  France,"  and 
then  refused  the  service,  because  the  kinyr 
heard  bin.  not,  and  nobody  answered  for 
him  ;  meaning  to  itnply  tlie  great  distance, 
and  so  the  diiricuity  (jf  sending  aid,  when 
need  should  ref|uire.  But  we  may  be  confi- 
dent of  our  supplies  in  the  most  sudden  sur- 
prisals.     Our  King  can,  and  will  hear  us 


when  we  call,  and  will  send  relief  in  due  sea- 
son.   We  may  be  in  apparent  hazards,  but 
I  we  shall  not  be  wholly  vanquished:  it  is  but 
I  crying  to  him  in  our  greatest  straits,  and 
'  help  appears.    Possibly  we  see  the  hosts  of 
enemies  first,  and  that  so  great  that  there  is 
no  likelihnod  of  escaping,  but  then,  praying, 
we  espy  the  fiery  chariots  and  horsemen,  and 
may  say.  There  are  more  tvith  us  tha\  -jith 
them.    2  Kings  vi.  16. 

The  apostle  St.  Paul  calls  our  God,  the 
God  of  all  consolation,  Rom.  xv.  5,  as  here 
he  is  styled  the  God  of  all  grace.  And  this 
is  our  rejoicing,  that  in  his  hand  is  all  good, 
our  sanctification  and  consolation,  assistance 
and  assurance,  grace  and  glory.  And  this 
style  suits  most  filly  with  the  present  petition, 
that  for  our  perfecting,  and  stahlishing,  and 
strengthening  in  grace,  we  have  recourse  to 
the  God  of  all  grace,  whose  former  gifts  do 
not  discourage  us  from  seeking  more,  but  in- 
deed both  encourage  us,  and  engage  him  for 
the  perfecting  of  it.  It  is  his  will,  that  we 
have  constant  recourse  to  him  for  all  we 
want.  He  is  so  rich,  and  withal  so  liberal, 
j  that  he  delights  in  our  seeking  and  drawing 
i  much  from  him  ;  and  it  is  by  believing  and 
praying,  that  we  do  draw  from  hirn.  Were 
these  plied,  we  should  soon  grow  richer. 
But  remember,  all  this  grace  that  we  would 
receive  from  the  God  of  all  grace,  must  be 
from  God  in  Christ.  There  it  flows  for  us, 
and  thither  we  are  directed.  It  was  the  Fa- 
ther's good  pleasure,  that  in  htm  should  all 
fulness  dwell,  Col.  i.  19,  and  that  for  us,  that 
we  might  know  whither  to  go,  and  where  to 
apply  for  it. 

Now,  for  the  further  opening  up  of  his 
riches,  expressed  in  this  title,  the  God  of  all 
grace,  there  is  added  one  great  act  of  grace, 
which  doth  indeed  include  all  the  rest,  for  we 
have  in  it  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  the 
work  linked  together  ;  the  first  effect  of  grace 
upon  us,  in  effectual  calling,  and  the  last  ac- 
complishment of  it,  in  eternal  glory.  Who 
hath  called  us  to  his  eternal  glory. 

This  calling,  I  conceive,  doth  not  simply 
mean  the  design  of  the  gospel  in  its  general 
jiublication,  wherein  the  outward  call  lies, 
that  it  holds  forth,  and  sets  before  us,  eternal 
glory  as  the  result  of  grace  :  but  refers  to  the 
real  bringing  of  a  Christian  to  Christ,  and  uni- 
ting him  with  Christ,  and  so  giving  him  a  real 
and  (irm  title  toglorv, — such  a  call,  as  power- 
;  fully  works  grace  in  the  soul,  and  seciiresglory 
to  the  soul  ;  gives  it  a  right  to  that  inlieri- 
tance,  and  fits  it  for  it  ;  and  sometimes  gives  it 
even  the  evident  and  sweet  assurance  of  it. 
This  assurance,  indeed,  all  the  heirs  of  glory 
have  not  ordinarily  within  them,  and  scjtrce- 
ly  any  have  at  all  times  equally  clear.  Some 
travel  on  in  a  covert,  cloudy  day,  and  get 
h(Jiiie  by  it,  having  so  much  light  as  to  know 
[  ihcir  way,  and  yet  do  not  at  all  clearly  see  the 
briirlit  and  full  sunshine  of  assurance  ;  others 
have  it  breaking  forth  at  times,  and  anon  un- 
der a  cloud  ;  and  some  have  it  more  constant- 


3.S2 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  V. 


ly  But  as  all  meet  in  the  end,  so  all  agree 
111  this  in  the  beifinnini;,  that  is,  in  the  reality 
ol'  the  thins;  ;  they  are  made  unalterably  sure 
heirs  c'l'it,  in  their  efleclual  caliiii<r. 

And  by  this  the  apostle  advances  his  peti- 
tion for  their  support,  and  establishment,  and 
advancement  in  the  way  of  ijrace.  The  way 
ol  our  ealliiior  to  so  hi<;h  and  happy  an  estate, 
did  we  apply  our  tliouijhts  more  to  it,  would 
work  on  us,  and  persuade  us  to  a  more  suita- 
ble temper  of  mind,  and  course  of  life  ;  would 
giveusmore  noble  and  sublime  thoughts, and 
ways  above  the  world  ;  and  the  stronger  were 
our  persuasion  of  it,  the  more  strongly  should 
we  be  thus  persuaded  by  it.  And  as  it  would 
thus  prevail  with  us,  so  might  we  use  it  to 
prevail  with  God  for  all  needful  grace. 

All  you  who  hear  the  gospel,  aie,  in  the  gen- 
eral, called  to  this  glory.  It  is  told  you  where 
and  how  you  may  lay  hold  on  it.  You  are 
told,  that  if  you  will  let  go  your  sins  and  cm- 
brace  Jesus  Christ,  this  glory  shall  be  yours. 
It  is  his  purchase,  and  the  r'ight  of  it  lies  in 
him,  and  not  elsewhere  ;  and  the  way  to  ob- 
tain a  right  to  him  is  to  receive  him  for  a  Sa- 
vior, and  at  the  same  time  for  Lord  and 
King  ;  to  become  his  subjects,  and  so  to  be 
made  kings.  This  is  our  message  to  you,  but 
you  will  not  receive  it.  You  give  it  a  hear- 
ing, it  may  be,  but  do  not  indeed  hearken  to 
the  motion  ;  and  this,  of  necessity,  must  pro- 
ceed from  unbelief.  Were  you  indeed  per- 
suaded, that  in  coming  unto  Christ  you  were 
immediately  not  only  set  free  from  a  sentence 
of  death,  which  is  still  standing  over  your 
head  while  you  are  out  of  him,  but  withal  en- 
titled to  a  crown,  made  heirs  of  a  kingdom, 
an  eternal  kingdom, — I  say,  if  this  were  be- 
lieved, were  it  possible  to  slight  him  as  the 
most  do,  and  turn  back  the  bargain,  and  be- 
stow their  money  elsewhere  upon  trifles  of  no 
value,  children's  commodities,  rattles,  and 
painted  toys  ?  Such  are  your  greatest  proj- 
ects, even  for  earthly  kingdoms,  in  respect  of 
Christ,  and  this  glory  provided  in  him.  How 
wonderful  is  it  that  where  this  happiness  is 
daily  proclaimed,  and  you  are  not  only  inform- 
ed of  it,  but  entreated  to  receive  it,  not  only  is 
it  offered  to  you,  but  pressed  and  urged  upon 
you,  and  you  say  you  believe  the  matter  ;  yet 
still,  the  false  glory  and  other  vanities  of  this 
world  amuse  and  entangle  you,  so  that  you 
close  not  with  this  rich  offer  oi' eternal  glory. 

But  where  any  do  close  with  it,  it  is  in- 
deed by  a  call  that  goes  deeper  than  the  ear, 
a  word  spoken  home  to  within,  a  touch  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  upon  the  heart,  which  hath  a 
mafjneiic  virtue  to  draw  it,  so  that  it  can 
not  choose  but  follow,  and  yet  chooses  it 
most  fieely  and  sweetly  ;  doth  most  gladly 
open  to  let  in  Jesus  Christ  and  his  sweet  gov- 
ernment upon  his  own  terms,  takes  him  and 
all  the  reproaches  and  troubles  that  come 
with  him.  And  well  it  may,  seeing,  beyond 
a  little  passing  trouble,  abiding,  eternal  glory. 

The  state  to  which  a  Christian  is  called,  is 
not  a  poor  and  sad  estate,  as  the  world  judg- 


es :  It  is  to  no  less  than  eternal  glori/.  The 
world  think  it  strange  to  see  the  believer  . 
abridge  himself  in  the  delights  of  sin,  their 
common  pursuits  and  eager  graspings  after 
gains,  or  honors,  or  pleaj^ures  of  sense  ;  but 
they  know  not  the  infinite  gain  that  he  liaih 
made,  in  that  he  hath  exchanged  this  dross 
for  down-weight  of  pure  gold.  The  world 
see  what  the  Chri.-^tian  leaves,  but  they  sec 
not  what  he  comes  to,  what  his  new  pur- 
chase is,  in  another  place;  they  see  what 
he  suffers,  but  not  what  lie  expects,  and  shall 
attain  as  the  end  of  those  sufferings,  which 
shall  shortly  end.  But  he,  knowing  well  up- 
on what  conditions  all  these  things  run,  may 
well  say,  Non  nmsna  relini/vo  ?nai!/la  seyvor 
■ — How  small  is  what  I  forsake,  liow  great 
that  which  I  follow  after  ! 

It  is  glory,  eternal  glory,  his  eternal  glory, 
true,  real  glory.  All  here  that  is  so  named, 
is  no  more  than  a  name,  a  shadow  of  glory  ; 
it  can  not  endure  the  balance,  but  is  found  toe 
light,  as  was  said  of  a  great  monarch,  Dan. 
V. ;  and  even  many  principalities  and  provin- 
ces, put  into  the  scale  one  after  another,  still 
add  no  weight :  yea,  possibly,  as  a  late  polit- 
ical writer  wittily  observes  of  a  certain  mon- 
arch, "  the  more  kingdoms  you  cast  in,  the 
scale  is  still  the  lighter."  Men  are  naturally 
desirous  after  glory,  and  gape  after  it  ;  but 
they  are  naturally  ignorant  of  the  true  nature 
and  place  of  it  :  they  seek  it  where  it  is  not, 
and,  as  Solomon  says  of  riches,  set  their 
hearts  on  that  which  is  not,  Prov.  xxiii.  5 — 
hath  no  subsistence  or  reality.  Bui  the  glory 
above,  is  true,  real  glory,  and  bears  weight, 
and  so  bears  aright  the  name  of  glory,  the 
term  for  which  in  the  Hebrew  [Kelni<l'\  signi- 
fies weight  ;  and  the  apostle's  expression 
seems  to  ijlude  to  that  sense :  speaking  of 
this  same  glory  to  come,  he  calls  it  a  far  more 
excellent  weight  of  glory.  2  Cor.  iv.  17.  It 
weighs  down  all  "labor  and  sufferings  in  the 
way,  so  far,  as  that  they  are  not  once  worth 
the  speaking  of  in  respect  of  it.  It  is  hy- 
perbole --n'l'  vmi>ii"Mii'  di  nifiili  y<iv-  Other  glory 
is  over-spoken,  but  this  glory  is  over-glorious 
to  be  duly  spoken  :  it  exceeds  and  rises  above 
all  that  can  be  spoken  of  it. 

Eternal.]  Oh,  that  adds  much  !  Mes 
would  have  more  reason  so  to  affect  and  pur 
sue  the  glory  of  the  present  world,  such  as  it 
is,  if  it  were  lasting,  if  it  stayed  with  them 
when  they  have  caught  it,  and  they  stayed 
with  it  to  enjoy  it.  But  how  soon  do  they 
part  !  They  pass  away,  and  the  glory  passes 
away,  both  as  smoke.  Our  life  itself  is  as  a 
vapor.  And  as  for  all  the  pomp  and  magnifi- 
cence of  those  that  have  the  greatest  outward 
glory,  and  make  the  fairest  show,  it  is  but  a 
show,  a  pageant  that  goes  through  the  street, 
and  is  seen  no  more.  But  this  hath  length 
of  days  with  it — eternal  glory.  Oh,  a  thought 
of  that  swallows  up  all  the  grandeur  ol  the 
world,  and  the  noise  of  reckoning  years  and 
ages.  Had  one  man  continued,  from  theore- 
ation  to  the  end  of  the  world,  at  the  top  ol 


Ver.  11. J 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


353 


earthly  dignity  and  glory,  admired  by  all,  yet, 
at  the  end,  everlasting  oblivion  being  the 
close,  what  a  nothing  were  it  to  eternal  glo- 
ry!  But,  alas!  we  can  not  be  brought  to 
believe,  and  deeply  to  take  the  impression  of 
eternity  ;  and  this  is  our  undoing. 

By  Jesus  Chrisl.'\  Your  portion,  while  out 
of  him,  was  eternal  shame  and  misery,  but 
by  him,  it  is  even  all  glory.  And  this  hath 
in  it  likewise  an  evidence  of  the  greatness  of 
this  glory  ;  it  can  be  no  small  estate,  which 
the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God  was  let  out  to 
purchase. 

His  glory.]  It  is  that  which  he  gives,  and 
gives  as  his  choicest  of  all,  to  his  chosen,  his 
children.  And  if  there  be  anything  here  that 
hath  delight  or  worth,  in  the  things  which  he 
gives  in  common  even  to  his  enemies  ;  if 
there  be  such  a  world  and  such  a  variety  of 
good  things  for  them  that  hate  him,  oh,  how 
excellent  must  those  things  be  which  he  hath 
reserved  for  his  friends,  for  those  he  loves, 
and  causes  to  love  him ! 

As  it  is  his  gift,  so  it  is  indeed  himself :  the 
beholding  and  enjoying  of  himself.  This  we 
can  not  now  conceive.  But,  oh,  that  blessed 
day  when  the  soul  shall  be  full  of  God,  shall 
be  satisfied  and  ravished  witli  full  vision  ! 
Should  we  not  admire  that  such  a  condition 
is  provided  for  man,  wretched,  sinful  man  ? 
Lord,  what  is  man,  that  thou  art  minilful  of 
him,  and  the  son  of  man,  thai  thou  rtsitesl 
him?  Psalm  viii.  3.  And  is  it  provided  for 
me,  as  wretched  as  any  who  are  left  and  fal- 
len short  of  this  glory,  a  base  worm  taken  out 
of  the  rnire,  and  washed  in  tlie  blood  of  Clirist, 
and  within  a  while  set  to  shine  in  glory  with- 
out sin!  Oh,  the  wonder  of  ihis  !  How  should 
it  excite  us  to  praise,  when  we  think  of  such 
a  one  there,  who  will  bring  us  up  in  the  way 
to  this  crown  !  How  will  this  hope  sweeten 
the  short  sufferings  of  this  life  !  And  death 
itself,  which  is  otherwise  the  bitterest  in  it- 
self, is  most  of  all  sweetened  by  this,  as  being 
nearest  it,  and  setting  us  into  it.  What 
though  thou  art  poor,  diseased,  and  despised 
here  ?  Oh,  consider  what  is  there,  how  wor- 
thy the  affection,  worthy  the  earnest  eye  and 
fixed  look  of  an  heir  of  this  glory  !  Wliatcan 
he  either  desire  or  fear,  whose  heart  is  thus 
deeply  fixed  ?  Who  would  refuse  this  other 
clause,  to  suffer  a  ivhtle,  a  little  while,  any- 
thing outward  or  inward  which  he  thinks  fit  ? 
How  soon  shall  all  this  be  overpast,  and  then 
overpaid  in  the  very  entry,  at  the  beginning 
of  this  glory  that  shall  never  end  ! 
Veh.  11.  To  him  be  glory  and  dominion  for  ever  and 
ovoT.  Amen. 

Thry  know  little  of  their  own  wants  and 
emptiness,  who  are  not  much  in  prayer  ;  and 
they  know  little  of  the  greatness  and  good- 
ness of  God,  who  are  not  much  in  praises. 
The  humble  Christian  hath  a  heart  in  some 
nieasure  framed  to  both.  He  hath  within 
him  the  best  schoolmaster,  who  teaches  him 
how  to  pray,  and  how  to  praise,  and  makes 
lira  delight  in  the  exercise  of  them  both. 
45 


The  apostle,  having  added  prayer  to  his 
doctrine,  adds  here,  you  see,  praise  to  his 
prayer.  To  him  be  glory  and  dominion  for 
ever. 

The  living  praises  of  God  spring  from  much 
holy  affection,  and  that  afiection  springs  from 
a  Divine  light  in  the  understanding.  So  says 
the  psalmist:  ''^mg  ye  praises  with  under- 
standing, or,  you  that  have  understanding. 
Psalm  xlvii.  7.  It  is  a  spiritual  knowledge 
of  God,  that  sets  the  soul  in  tune  for  his 
praises,  and  therefore  the  most  can  bear  no 
part  in  this  song:  they  mistune  it  quite, 
through  their  ignortvuce  of  God,  and  unac- 
quainiance  with  him.  Praise  is  unseemly  in 
the  mouth  of  fools  :  they  spoil  and  mistune 
it. 

Observe,  1.  The  thing  ascribed.  2.  The 
term  or  endurance  of  it.  The  former  is  ex- 
pressed in  two  words :  glory,  and  power. 
Glory,  that  is,  the  shining  forth  of  his  dig- 
nity, the  knowledge  and  acknow/edgmenl  of 
it  by  his  creatures;  that  his  excellency  may 
be  confessed  and  praised,  his  name  exalted  ; 
that  service  and  homage  may  be  done  to  him. 
Wiiich  all  add  nothing  to  him,  for  how  can 
that  be  ?  But  as  it  is  the  duty  of  such  crea- 
tures as  he  hath  fitted  for  it,  to  render  praise 
lo  him,  so  it  is  their  happiness.  All  created 
things,  indeed,  declare  and  speak  his  glory  : 
the  heavens  sound  it  forth,  and  the  earth  and 
sea  resound  and  echo  it  back.  But  his  rea- 
sonable creatures  liath  he  peculiarly  framed, 
i  both  to  take  notice  of  his  glory  in  all  the  rest 
j  and  to  return  it  from  and  for  all  the  rest,  in  a 
more  express  and  lively  way. 

And  in  this  lower  world,  it  is  man  alone 
that  is  made  capable  of  observing  the  glory 
of  God,  and  of  (jffering  him  praises.  He  ex- 
'  presses  it  well,  who  calls  man  the  worhPs 
hi^h  priest :  all  the  creatures  bring  their  oh- 
\  lations  of  praise  to  him,  to  ofl'er  uj)  for  thciu 
j  and  for  himself,  and  for  whose  use  and  com- 
fort they  are  made.  The  light  and  motion  of 
the  heavens,  and  all  the  variety  of  creatures 
below  them,  s])eak  this  to  man  :  He  that  made 
us  and  you,  and  made  us  for  you,  is  great, 
and  wise,  and  worthy  to  be  praised.  And 
you  are  better  able  to  say  this  than  we  ; 
therefore  praise  him  on  our  behalf  and  on 
your  own.  Oh  !  he  is  great  and  mighty,  he 
is  the  Lord  our  Maker. 

Power  here  expresses  not  only  ability,  but 
authority  and  royal  sovereignty  ;  that,  as  he 
can  do  all  things,  he  rules  and  governs  all 
things,  is  King  of  all  the  world.  Lord  para- 
mount. All  hold  their  crowns  of  him,  and 
the  shields  of  the  earth  belong  unto  God  ;  he 
is  greatly  to  be  exalted.  Psalm  xlvii.  9.  He 
disposeth  of  states  and  kingdoms  at  his  pleas- 
ure, establislielh  or  chanseth,  turns  and  over- 
turns, as  seems  him  good  ;  and  hath  not  only 
might,  but  right  to  do  so.  He  is  the  Most 
High,  ruling  in  the  kingdoms  of  the  childrtn 
of  men,  and  giving  them  to  whomsoever  he 
will,  Daniel  iv.  32,  pouring  contempt  upon 
princes  when  they  contemn  his  power. 


A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


[Chap.  V. 


The  Icrin  of  this  glory  is  for  ever.  Evon 
ill  the  short  lite  ul'  man,  men  who  are  raiseii 
Very  hitcii  in  jilai-e  and  i  ojiular  esteem  may, 
and  often  do,  outlive  their  own  glory.  But 
the  glory  of  (uid  lasteih  as  long  as  himself, 
for  he  is  unchangeable  :  his  throne  is  for  ever, 
and  his  wrath  for  ever,  iiud  his  mertyyli/- etier  ; 
and  therefore  his  glory  ever. 

Rcjhclton  1.  Is  it  not  to  be  lamented,  that 
he  is  so  little  glorilied  and  praised  ?  that  the 
earth,  being  so  full  of  his  goodness,  is  so 
emi)iy  of  his  praise  from  them  who  enjoy  and 
live  upon  it  ? 

How  far  are  the  greatest  part  from  making 
this  their  grjat  work,  to  exalt  God,  and  as- 
cribe pow»  r  and  glory  to  his  name  !  So  far, 
vhat  all  iheir  ways  are  his  dishonor:  they 
seek  to  advance  and  raise  themselves,  to 
serve  their  own  lusts  and  pleasures,  while 
they  are  altogether  mindless  of  his  glory. 
Yea,  the  apostle's  complaint  holds  good 
against  us  all  ;  we  are  seikinu;  our  own  t/un>rs, 
and  none  the  things  of  the  Lord  Jesils  Christ. 
Phil.  ii.  21.  It  is  true,  some  exceptions  there 
are  ;  but,  as  his  meaning  is,  they  are  so  lew, 
that  they  are,  as  it  were,  drowned  and  smoth- 
ered in  the  crowd  of  self-seekers,  so  that  they 
api)ear  not.  After  all  the  judgments  of  God 
U()on  us,  how  do  luxu/v  and  excess,  unclean- 
ness,  and  all  knids  |)rofaneness,  still  out- 
dare the  very  light  of  the  gospel,  and  the  rule 
of  holiness  shining  in  it  !  Scarcely  anything 
IS  a  matter  of  common  shame  and  scorn,  but 
the  power  of  godliness ;  turning  indeed  our 
true  glory  into  shame,  and  glorymg  in  that 
which  is  indwed  our  shame.  Holiness  is  not 
only  our  truest  glory,  but  that  wherein  the 
ever-glorious  God  doth  especially  glory.  He 
hath  made  known  himsell'  particularly  by 
that  name,  The  holy  God  ;  and  the  express 
style  of  his  glorious  praises  uttered  by  sera- 
phiins,  is,  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  of 
hosts  :  the  tvhole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory.  Isa. 
Yi.  3. 

Instead  of  sanctifying  and  glorifying  this 
holy  name,  how  doth  the  language  of  hell, 
oaths  and  curses,  abound  in  our  streets  and 
houses  !  How  is  that  blessed  name,  which 
angels  are  blessing  and  praising,  abused  by 
base  worms  !  Again,  notwithstanding  all  the 
mercies  multiplied  upon  us  in  this  land, 
where  are  our  [jraises,  our  songs  of  deliver- 
ance, our  ascribing  glory  and  power  to  our 
God,  who  hath  prevented  us  with  loving 
kindness  and  tender  mercies  ;  hath  removed 
the  strokes  of  his  hand,  and  made  cities  and 
villages  populous  again,  that  were  left  deso- 
late without  inhabitants? 

Oh,  why  do  we  not  stir  up  our  hearts,  and 
one  another,  to  extol  the  name  of  our  God, 
and  say,  Give  unto  the  Lord  glory  and 
strength  ;  give  unto  the  Lord  the  glory  due 
unto  his  name  ?  Have  we  not  seen  the  pride 
and  glory  of  all  llesh  stained  and  abased  ? 
Were  there  ever  alfairs  and  times  that  more 
discovered  the  folly  and  weakness  of  men, 
and  the  wisdom  and  power  of  God  ?  Oh,  that 


our  hearts  were  set  to  magnify  him,  accord 
ing  to  that  word  so  often  repeated  in  Psalm 
cvii.    Oh!  that  men  icould  praise  the  Lord 
for  his  goodness,  for  his  ivonderful  works  to 
the  children  of  wen  ! 

Refection  But  what  wonder  is  it  that 
the  Lord  loses  the  revenue  <jf  his  praises  at 
the  hands  of  the  comnion  ungodly  world, 
when  even  his  own  ])eople  fall  so  far  behind 
it  as  usually  they  do  ?  The  dead  can  not 
praise  him;  but  that  they  whom  he  hath 
quickened  by  his  Sjjirit,  should  yet  be  so  sur- 
l)rised  with  deadness  and  dulness  as  to  this 
exercise  of  exalting  God,  this  is  very  strange. 
For  help  of  this,  take  ihe  three  Ibllowmg  di- 
rections : — 

Direction  1.  We  should  seek  after  a  fit  tem- 
per, and  labor  to  have  our  hearts  brought  to 
a  due  disposition  for  his  praises.  And  in  this 
view,  [I.  I  See  that  they  be  spiritual.  AH 
sjiiritual  services  require  that,  but  this  ser- 
vice most,  as  being  indeed  the  most  s])iriiual 
of  all.  Affeciion  to  the  thiniis  of  this  earth, 
draws  down  the  soul,  and  makes  it  so  low 
stt,  'hat  it  can  not  rise  to  the  height  of  a  song 
of  praise;  and  thus,  if  we  observed  ourselves, 
we  should  find  that  when  we  let  our  hearts 
fall  and  entangle  themselves  in  any  inferior 
desires  and  delights,  as  they  are  unfitted  gen 
erally  for  holy  things,  so,  especially  for  the 
praises  of  our  holy  God.  Creature-loves  de- 
base the  soul,  and  turn  it  to  earth,  and  praise 
is  altogether  heavenly. 

[2.]  Seek  a  heart  purified  from  self-love, 
and  possessed  with  the  love  of  God.  The 
heart  which  is  ruled  by  its  own  interest  is 
scarcely  ever  content,  still  subject  to  new  dis- 
quiet. Self  is  a  vexing  thing,  for  all  things 
do  not  readily  suit  our  humors  and  wills,  and 
the  least  touch  that  is  wrong  to  a  selfish  mind 
distempers  it,  and  disrelishes  all  the  good 
things  about  it.  A  childish  condition  it  is,  if 
crossed  but  in  a  toy,  to  throw  awuy  all. 
Whence  are  our  frequent  frettings  and  grum- 
blings, and  why  is  it  that  we  can  drown  a 
hundred  high  favors  in  one  little  displeasure, 
so  that  still  our  finger  is  upon  that  string,  and 
there  is  more  malcontent  and  repining  for  one 
little  cross,  than  praises  for  all  the  mercies 
we  have  received  ?  Is  not  this  evidently  from 
the  self-love  that  abounds  in  us?  Whereas, 
were  the  love  of  God  predominant  in  us,  we 
should  love  his  doings  and  disposals,  and 
bless  his  name  in  all.  Whatsoever  were  his 
will,  would,  in  that  view,  be  amiable  and 
sweet  to  us,  however  in  itself  harsh  and  un- 
pleasant. Thus  should  we  say  in  all  :  This 
is  the  will  and  the  hand  of  my  Father,  who 
doth  all  things  wisely  and  well:  blessed  be 
his  name  ! 

The  soul  thus  framed,  would  praise  in  the 
deeps  of  troubles  :  not  only  in  outward  afflic- 
tions, but  in  the  saddest  inward  condition,  it 
would  be  still  extolling  Gotl,  and  saying,. 
However  he  deal  with  me,  he  is  worthy  to  be 
loved  and  praised.  He  is  great  and  holy,  he 
is  good  and  gracious  ;  and  whatsoever  be  his 


Ver.  12—14.] 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER. 


355 


way  and  thousrhts  toward  me,  I  wish  him 
glory.  If  he  will  be  jileased  to  give  me  light 
aiid  refreshment,  blessed  be  he  ;  and  if  he  will 
have  me  to  be  in  darkness  again,  blessed  be 
he,  glory  to  his  name  !  Yea,  what  though  he 
should  utterly  reject  me,  is  he  not  for  that  to 
be  accounted  infinitely  merciful  in  the  saving 
of  others  ?  Must  he  cease  to  be  praiseworthy 
for  my  sake  ?  If  he  condemn,  yet  he  is  to  be 
praised,  bemg  merciful  lo  so  many  others  ; 
yea,  even  in  so  dealing  with  me,  he  is  to  be 
praised,  for  in  ihat  he  is  just. 

Thus  would  pure  love  reason  for  him,  and 
render  praise  to  him.  But  our  ordinary  way 
is  most  untoward  and  unbeseeming  his  crea- 
tures, even  the  best  of  them,  much  more  such 
worms  as  we  are  ;  that  things  must  rather  be 
to  our  mind  than  his,  and  we  must  either  have 
all  our  will,  or  else,  for  our  part,  h-e  shall  have 
none  of  his  praises. 

[3.  J  Labor  for  that  which  on  tfiese  two  will 
follow,  a  fxed  heart.    If  it  be  refined  from 
creature-love,  and  self-love,  spirituality  and 
love  of  God  will  fix  it  ;  and  then  shall  it  be 
fit  lo  praise,  which  an  unstable,  uncomposed 
heart  can  never  be,  any  more  than  an  instru- 
ment can  be  harmonious  and  fit  to  play  on, 
that  hath  loose  pins,  still  slipping  and  letting 
down  the  strin<rs,  pins  that  never  fasten.  And 
thus  are  the  most :  they  can  not  fix  to  divine  ' 
thoughts,  to  consider  God,  to  behold  and  ad- 1 
mire  his  excellency  and  goodness,  and  his 
free  love.    Oh,  that  happy  word  of  David, 
worthy  to  be  iwice  repeated  !    When  shall  ! 
we  say  it  ?    0  God,  my  heart  i.i  fxcd  :  well  ' 
might  he  add,  /  will  sing-  and  give  praise.  ! 
Psalm  Ivii.  7.  Oh,  that  we  would  pray  much 
that  he  would  fix  our  hcarls,  and  then,  he  hav- 
ing fixed  them,  we  should  praise  iiim  much. 

Direct.  II.  If  any  due  disposition  be  once 
attained  for  praises,  then  must  the  heart,  so 
disposed,  be  set  to  stud.v  the  matter  of  praises. 

And  1.  Study  the  infinite  excellency  of 
God  in  himself;  of  which,  though  we  know 
little,  yet  this  we  know,  and  should  consider 
it,  that  it  is  far  beyond  what  all  the  creatures  ' 
and  all  his  works  are  able  to  testify  of  him  ; ' 
that  he  transcends  all  we  can  speak,  or  hear,  ! 
or  know  of  him.    2.  Look  on  him  in  his  j 
works.    Can  we  belujld  the  vast  heavens 
above,  fir  the  firm  earih  beneath  us,  or  all  the 
variety  of  his  works  in  both,  without  holy 
wonder  excited  in  us,  and  that  stirring  us  up 
to  sinar  praises  ?     Oh,  his  greatness,  and  ! 
might,  and  wisdom  shining  in  these  !  J,nrd, 
hnir  manifest  are  thy  works  !  In  wisdom  hast 
thou  made  them  all.  Psalm  civ.  24.  But  above 
all,  that  work,  that  marvel  of  his  works,  the 
Bendinir  of  his  Son  forth  of  his  bosom.  This 
is  the  mystery  which  the  apostles  do  so  much 
magnify  in  their  writings,  wliich  is  so  much 
magnified  in  this  epistle,  and  which  forms 
the  chief  incentive  to  the  ascription  of  praise 
with  which  it  closes.   This  praise  looks  par- 
ticularly back  to  the  style  in  tne  prayer,  The 
God  of  all  grace,  who  hath  called  ns  lo  his 
eternal  glory  by  Jesus  Christ.    So  many  oth- 


er mercies  are  not  to  be  forgotten,  but  chiefly 
is  he  lo  be  praised  for  that  choicest  of  mer- 
cies. To  his  glory,  who  hath  called  us  to  his 
glory.  Then,  look  through  the  work  of  sa- 
ving nis  chosen,  so  redeemed  by  the  blood  of 
his  Son.  His  maintaining  his  own  work  in 
them  against  all  surrounding  enemies  and 
oppositions,  the  advancing  of  it  in  the  midst 
of  them,  and  even  by  means  of  those  oppo- 
sitions, and  bringing  them  safe  lo  glory  ; 
that  perfecting  and  establishment,  as  in  the 
foregoing  words.  It  is  this  which  so  affects 
the  Etpostle  in  the  very  entry  of  this  epistle, 
that  there  he  must  break  forth  into  praise: 
Blesied  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesns  Christ,  who,  according  to  his  abundant 
mercy,  hath  begotten  us  again  unto  a  lively 
hope,  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  from 
the  dead,  chap.  i.  3.  He  begins  there  in 
praise,  and  here  he  ends  in  it,  and  so  enclo- 
ses all  within  that  divine  circle.  And  as  we 
should  consider  these  things  in  general,  so 
should  we  also  reflect  on  his  particular  deal- 
ing with  us,  his  good  providence  both  in 
spirituals  and  temporals.  Would  we  search, 
oh,  what  a  surcharge  of  innumeralde  mer- 
cies should  each  of  us  find  !  And  were  we 
better  acquainted  with  the  holy  Scriptures, 
had  we  more  our  delight  in  them,  they  would 
acquaint  us  better  with  all  these  things,  ana 
give  us  light  to  see  them,  and  warm  our 
hearts,  and  excite  tliem  to  his  praises,  who 
is  the  God  of  all  our  mercies. 

Direct.  III.  The  heart  being  somewhat  dis- 
posed to  praise,  and  then  studying  the  matter 
of  it,  should  be  applied  actually  to  render 
praise.  And  in  order  to  this,  we  must  be 
careful,  1.  To  aim  at  God  in  all,  which  is 
continued  praise  ;  to  eye  his  glory  in  every- 
thing, and  chiefly  to  desire  that,  as  our  great 
end,  that  his  name  may  be  extilted.  This  is 
the  excellent  way  indeed.  Whereas  most  are 
either  wholly  for  their  self-ends,  or  often 
squinting  out  to  them.  That  soul  is  most  no- 
ble, which  singly  and  fixedly  aims  at  exalt- 
ing God,  and  seeks  to  have  this  stamp  on  all 
it  speaks  and  does,  and  desires  :  All  to  the 
greater  glory  of  my  God.  2.  To  abound  in 
the  express  and  solemn  return  of  praise  this 
way.  To  him  be  glory,  not  a  customary 
dead  saying  of  it  over,  as  is  usual  with  us, 
but  the  heart  offering  it  up.  What  is  so  pure 
and  high  as  this  exercise,  the  praises  of  ever- 
glorious  Deity  ?  What  is  heaven  but  these? 
And  were  it  not  best,  a^s  we  can,  to  begin  it 
here,  and  long  to  be  there,  where  it  shall 
never  end  ?  To  him  be  glory  and  dominion 
for  ever  and  ever.  Amen. 

Ver.  12.  By  SUvanus,  a  faithful  brother  unto  you  (as 
1  suppose),  I  have  written  briefly,  exhorting,  and 
tcstilyiiig  that  this  is  the  true  grace  of  God  where- 
in ye  stand. 

Vrr.  13.  'I  ho  church  that  is  at  Babylon,  elected  to- 
gether with  you,  saluteth  you;  and  so  doth  Mar- 
cus, iny  son. 

Ver.  14.  Crcet  ye  one  another  with  a  kiss  of  charity. 
Peace  be  with  you  all  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus 
Amen. 


356         A  COMMENTARY  UPON  THE 


FIRST  EPISTLE  OF  PETER.     [Chap.  V 


This  is  a  kind  of  postscript,  and  contains 
a  testimony  of  tlie  bearer,  and  tlic  apostolic 
form  of  saluting.  Withal,  the  aposile  ex- 
presses the  measure  of  his  writing-,  that  it 
was  brief,  and  the  end  of  it,  tliat  it  tens  lo 
testifi/  the  true  s;rcice  of  God.  And  this  is, 
indeed,  the  end  of  our  preaching,  and  we 
ought  each  to  seek  it  by  the  word,  and  by 
mutual  exhortations  ;  and  sometimes  a  few 
words  may  avail  much  lothis  purpose,  to  our 
hearty  establishment  in  the  faith.  And  not 
only  are  we  to  believe,  but  to  remember  that 
we  have  the  best  of  it ;  that  there  is  truth  in 
our  hopes,  and  they  shall  not  deceive  us. 
They  are  no  fancy,  as  the  world  thinks,  hut 
tie  true  grace  of  God  ;  yea,  when  all  things 
else  shall  vanish,  their  truth  shall  most  ap- 
pear in  their  full  accomplishment. 

The  entertainment  and  increase  of  Chris- 
tian love,  of  due  esteem  one  of  another,  and 
alTection  one  to  another,  is  no  matter  of  emp- 
ty compliment,  but  is  the  very  stamp  and 


badge  of  Jesus  Christ  upon  his  followers  ;  if 
is,  therefore,  most  carefully  to  be  preserved 
entire,  and  uniiappy  are  they  that  do  by  any 
means  Vv'illingly  break  it.  Oh,  let  us  beware 
of  doing  so,  and  follow  peace,  even  when  it 
seems  to  fly  from  us  ! 

This  peace  that  is  the  portion  of  these  in 
Christ,  is  indeed  within  them,  and  with  God. 
fiut  through  him,  it  is  likewise  one  with  art. 
other,  and  in  that  notion  it  i's  to  be  desired 
and  wished  jointly  with  the  other. 

They  that  are  in  Christ  are  the  only  chil- 
dren and  heirs  of  true  peace.  0  hers  may 
dream  of  it,  and  have  a  false  peace  for  a 
time,  and  wicked  men  may  wish  it  to  them- 
selves and  one  another ;  but  it  is  a  most  vain 
hope,  and  will  come  to  naught.  But  to  wish 
it  to  them  that  are  in  Christ  hath  good  ground  ; 
for  all  solid  peace  is  founded  on  liim,  and 
flows  from  him.  Now,  the  peace  of  God, 
irhich  pa.sseth  all  understanding,  keev  your 
hearts  and  mi?ids,thro  ugh  Jesus  Christ.  Amen 


MEDITATIONS 

CRITICAL   AND  PRACTICAL 

ON 

PSALMS  IV.,  XXXIL,  AND  CXXX. 


TRANSI,i»  TED  FROM  THE  LATIN  OF  ARCHBISHOP 


MEDITATIONS  "ON  PSALM  IV. 

Title,  To  the  chief  Musician  on  Neginolh,  a  Psalm 
of  David. 

Many  of  the  calamities  of  good  men  look 
like  miseries,  which  yet,  on  the  whole,  ap- 
pear to  have  conduced  greatly  to  their  hap- 
piness ;  witness  the  many  prayers  which  they 
poured  out  in  those  calamities,  the  many  sea- 
sonable and  shining  deliverances  whicli  suc- 
ceeded tliera,  and  the  many  hymns  of  praise 
they  sang  to  God  their  deliverer ;  so  that  they 
seem  to  have  been  cast  into  the  fire  on  pur- 
pose that  the  odor  of  their  graces  might  dif- 
fuse itself  abroad. 

The  seventy  Gre(;k  interpreters  seem  to 
have  read  the  word  wiiich  we  render  to  the 
chief  musician,  something  dift'erent  from  the 
reading  of  our  present  Hebrew  copy,  i.  e. 
Lemenetz,  instead  oi  Lemenetzoth  ;  and  there- 
fore they  render  it,  tiiriUi.  as  the  Latin  does, 
in  Jinein,  to  the  end.  Whence  the  Greek 
and  Latin  fathers  imagined,  that  all  the 
psalms  which  bear  this  inscription  refer  to 
the  Messiah,  the  great  end  and  the  accomplish- 
ment of  all  things  ;  a  sentiment  which  was 
.•ather  pious  tlian  judicious,  and  led  them  often 
to  wrest  several  passages  in  the  psalms  by  vio- 
lent and  unnatural  glosses.  Yet  I  would  not 
morosely  reject  all  interpretations  of  that  kind, 
seeing  the  apostles  themselves  apply  to  Christ 
many  passages  out  of  the  psalms  and  other 
books  of  the  Old  Testament,  which,  if  we  had 
not  been  assured  of  it  by  their  authority,  we 
should  hardly  have  imagined  to  have  had  any 
reference  to  him.  Nor  is  it  probable  that 
they  enumerated  all  the  predictions  of  the 
Messiah  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  pro- 
phetic writings,  but  only  a  very  small  part 
of  them,  while  they  often  assure  us  that  all 
the  sacred  writers  principally  centre  in  him. 
Ajid  it  is  certain  the  passage  out  of  this 
psalm,  which  Austin,  and  some  others,  sup- 
pose to  refer  to  Christ,  may  be  applied  to  him 
without  any  force  upon  the  exj)ression :  O  ye 
tons  of  men,  how  long  luill  ye  turn  my  glory 


LEIGHTON,  BY  THE  REV.  DR.  PHILIP  DODDRIDGE, 


into  shame  ?*  And  what  follows  they  explain 
with  the  same  reference :  Know  that  the  Lord 
has  in  a  wonderful  manner  separated  his 
Holy  One  unto  himself.  Others,  however, 
render  the  title  in  a  different  manner  (V'iC<on) 
tu  the  comjueror.  Moderns  translate  it  prcB' 
centori,  or  prcrfecto  musiccB,  to  the  chief 
musician,  or  him  who  presided  over  the  band 
of  musicians,  which  after  all  seems  the  most 
natural  interjjretation.  The  word  Ncginoth, 
which  is  sometimes  rendered  stringed  instru- 
ments, did  no  doubt  signify  instruments  of 
music  which  were  struck  to  give  their  sound, 
as  Nehiloth,  in  the  title  of  Psalm  v.  seems, 
though  not  without  some  little  irregularity 
in  the  etymology,  to  signify  iiutiruinents  of 
wind  music.  The  psalm  was  written  by 
David,  as  a  summary  of  the  prayer  he  had 
poured  out  before  God,  when  some  exceeding 
great  atlliclion  seemed  to  besiege  him  on 
every  side,  whether  it  was  the  persecution 
of  Saul,  or  the  conspiracy  of  Absalom  his  son. 

Ver.  1.  Hear  me  when  I  call,  O  God  of  my  rip-hte- 
ousness  !  Thou  hast  enlarged  me  when  I  was  in 
distress,  have  mercy  upon  me  and  hear  my  prayer. 

Hear  me.]  Behold  the  sanctuary  to  which 
this  good  man  betook  himself,  in  all  the  af- 
flictions of  his  life;  a  sanctuary  which  there- 
fore he  sets  off,  by  accumulating  a  variety  of 
exi)ressive  titles  all  to  the  same  purpose, 
Psalm  xviii.  1 :  My  rock,  my  fortress,  mi) 
strrn<^th,  my  deliverer,  my  buckler,  &c.  Hi 
is  indeed  a  place  of  refuge  to  his  children  j 
and  therefore,  as  Solomon  expresses  it,  Prov. 
xiv.  2(J,  In  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  a  strong 
confidence.  There  seems  something  of  an 
enigma  in  that  expression — conhdence  in  fear, 
yet  the  thing  itself  is  most  true.  And  again, 
Prov.  xviii.  10,  The  name  of  the  Lord  is  a 
strong  tower  ;  the  righteous  runneth  into  it, 
and  IS  safe.  And  they  who  know  not  this 
Refuge  are  miserable  ;  and  when  any  danger 
arises,  they  run  hither  and  thither,  as  Anto- 

•  They  read  it  i^avi  cnrde,  as  expressive  of  tha 
slu])idity  of  heart  which  the  rejecting  of  Christ  and 
his  gospel  manifests. 


358 


MEDITATIOKS  ON  PSALM  IV. 


[Ver.  1. 


Dinus  beautifully  expresses  it,  /imnwi'  i-rrT,>i,cv(ov 
Ma/pofiais,  "  Tlu'v  lly  and  flutter  they  know  not 
wiiither."  The  life  of  man  ui)on  earth  is  a 
warfare?  and  it  is  much  better,  in  the  midst 
of  enemies  and  daniiers,  to  be  aecjuainteu  with 
one  fortress  than  with  many  inns,  llr  that 
knows  how  to  jiray,  may  be  j)ressed,  but  can 
not  be  overwhelmed.* 

Hear  me,  O  Lord,  hear  my  prayer.']  He 
did  not  think  it  enough  to  have  said  this  once, 
but  he  redoubled  it.  He  who  prays  indeed, 
is  seriously  en<i;aijed  in  the  matter  ;  and  not 
only  seriously,  but  vehemently  too,  and  urges 
the  address,  because  he  himself  is  urged  by 
his  necessities  and  difficulties,  and  the  ardent 
motion  of  his  own  desire  and  affection.  And 
let  it  be  observed,  that  these  are  the  only 
prayers  that  mount  on  high,  and  offer  a  kind 
of  grateful  violence  to  Heaven.  Nor  does  the 
Divine  goodness  grant  anything  with  greater 
readiness  and  delight,  than  llie blessings  which 
seem,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  to 
be  forced  out  and  exiorted  by  the  most  fervent 
prayer.  So  that  TertuUian  used  to  say,  that 
"  when  we  pray  eagerly,  we  do  as  it  were  com- 
bine in  a  resolute  band,  and  lay  siege  to  God 
himself."!  These  are  the  perpetual  sacrifices 
in  the  temple  of  God  {evaiat  Xoyixui),  rational 
victims;  prayers  and  intermingled  vows, 
flowing  from  an  upright  and  pure  heart.  But 
he  who  presents  his  petitions  coldly  seems  to 
bespeak  a  denial :  for  is  it  to  be  wondered  at, 
that  we  do  not  prevail  on  God  to  hear  our 
prayers,  when  we  hardly  hear  them  ourselves 
while  we  olTer  them  ?  How  can  we  suppose 
that  such  devotions  should  penetrate  heaven, 
or  ascend  up  to  it  ?  How  should  they  ascend, 
when  they  do  not  so  much  as  go  forth  from 
our  own  bosoms,  but,  like  wretched  abortives, 
die  in  the  very  birth  !  But  why  do  I  say  that 
they  do  not  go  out  from  the  inward  recesses 
of  our  bosoms  !  Alas  !  they  are  only  formed 
on  the  surface  of  our  lips,  and  tfie^  expire 
there,  quite  dilTerent  from  what  Homer  ascri- 
bes to  his  wise  and  eloquent  Ulysses,  when 
he  says, 

Forth  I'roin  Lis  breast  he  poiired  a  mighty  cry. 

Thou  God  of  my  riffhteousness.]  q.  d.  0 
(rod,  who  art  righteous  thyself,  and  art  the 
patron  of  my  righteousness,  of  my  righteous 
cause  and  of  my  righteous  life.  For  it  is  neces- 
sary that  both  should  concur,  if  we  desire  to 
address  our  prayers  to  God  with  any  confi- 
dence;  not  that,  depending  upon  this  righte- 
ousness, we  should  seek  the  Divine  aid  and 
favor  as  a  matter  of  just  debt ;  for  then,  as 
the  apostle  argues,  it  rvere  no  more  of  <^rnce. 
Ron;.  XI.  6.  Our  p'-o|)liet  is  "ertainly  very 
far  from  boasting  of  his  merits;  for  here  he 
So  mentions  his  riehteousness,  as  at  the  same 
time  to  cast  himself  ujxin  the  Divine  mercy  ; 
Hai'e  mercy  upon  me,  exercise  thy  propitious 
clemency  toward  me.  And  this  is  indeed  the 

•  Premi  potest,  non  potest  oppriini. 

t  Precantes  veJuti  stipato  agiaiiie  Dcum  obsidere. 


genuine  temper  of  one  who  truly  prays  with 
sincerity  and  humility.  For  polluted  handi 
are  an  abomination  to  the  Lord,  and  he  hales 
the  heart  that  is  puffed  up  ;  he  beholds  the 
proud  afar  off,  as  the  celebrated  parable  of 
the  Pharisee  and  publican,  I/uke  xviii.,  is 
(you  know)  intended  to  teach  us.  Thou  art 
not  a  God  that  hast  pleasure  in  wickedness.  If 
I  rei^ard  iuKjuity  in  my  heart,  the  Lord  will 
not  hear  me.  But  the  righteous  Lord  loveth 
righteousness,  and  his  countenance  beholds 
the  upright.  Whereas  the  words  of  the 
wicked,  when  he  prays,  are  but  as  a  fan,  oi 
a:^  a  bellows,  to  blow  uj)  tlie  Divine  displeas- 
ure into  a  flame  ;  for  how  can  he  ap[)ease 
God  who  does  not  at  all  please  him,  or  how 
can  he  please  who  is  indeed  himself  dis- 
pleased with  God,  and  who  utterly  disre- 
gards his  pure  laws,  and  that  holiness  wfiich 
is  so  dear  to  him  ? 

Thou  hast  enlarged  me  when  1  was  in  dis- 
tress.] I  have  often  experienced  both  the 
riches  of  thy  bounty,  and  the  power  of  thy 
hand  ;  and  I  derive  confidence  thence,  be- 
cause thou  art  immutable,  and  canst  never 
be  wearied  by  rescuing  thy  servants  from  the 
dangers  that  surround  them.  The  examples 
we  have  heard  of  Divine  aid  granted  to  others 
in  their  distress  should  animate  us;  as  David 
recollected,  Psalm  xxii.  4  :  Our  fathers  trust- 
ed in  thee,  they  trusted  in  thee,  and  thou  didst 
deliver  them.  But  our  own  personal  ex[)eri- 
ences  are  later  and  nearer,  and  he  who  treas- 
ures them  up  m  his  memory,  not  only  there- 
by expresses  his  gratitude  to  God,  but  wisely 
consults  his  own  interest ;  for  he  enjoys  all 
those  benefits  of  the  Divine  favor  twice,  or 
rather  as  often  as  he  needs  and  pleases  to  re- 
new the  enjoyment  of  them  ;  and  he  not  only 
supports  his  faith  in  new  dangers,  by  survey- 
ing God's  former  interpositions,  but  by  laving 
them  open  before  God  in  humble  prayer,  he 
more  earnestly  implores,  and  more  effectually 
obtains  new  ones.  By  a  secret  kind  of  mag- 
netism, he  draws  one  benefit  by  another  ;  he 
calls  out,  and  as  it  were  allures  the  Divine 
favor  by  itself. 

Thou  hast  enlarged  me.]  The  redeemed  of 
the  Lord  may  especially  say  so,  in  reference 
to  that  grand  and  principal  deliverance  by 
which  they  are  snatched  from  the  borders  of 
hell,  from  the  jaws  of  eternal  death.  The  re- 
membrance of  so  great  salvation  may  well 
excite  songs  of  perpetual  praise,  to  be  as- 
cribed Deo  libf.ratori,  to  God  the  deliverer; 
and  by  this  deliverance,  so  much  more  illus- 
trious than  any  of  the  rest,  they  may  be  en- 
couraged in  the  confidence  of  faith,  to  urge 
and  hope  for  the  aids  of  his  saving  arm  in 
every  otlier  exigence. 

j  One  thing  more  may  be  observed  here,  but 
I  it  is  so  very  obvious  that  I  shall  only  just 
j'mention  it,  as  what  needs  not  be  much  in- 
culcated. That  he  who  has  not  been  accus- 
tomed to  prayer  when  the  pleasant  gales  of 
prosperity  have  been  breathing  upon  him, 
will  have  little  skill  and  confidence  in  apply- 


Vei.  2.] 


MEDITATIONS 


ON  PSALM  IV. 


359 


'  ig  himself  10  it,  when  the  storms  of  adver- 
siifv'  arise  ;  as  Xenophon  well  observed  in  the 
person  of  Cyrus.* 

Ver.  2.  O  ye  sons  of  men,  how  «ong  wijl  ye  turn  my 
glory  into  sharne  ?  How  long  wUl  ye  love  vanity, 
and  seek  after  leasing  ?  SelaL. 

Justly  may  we  admire  the  force  and  the 
speed  with  which  prayer  flies  up  to  heaven, 
and  brings  down  answers  ihence,  'V"  ''^'s  -V" 
tpyjj',  no  sooner  said  than  done  ;  if  not  as  to 
the  accomplishment  of  the  thing  itself,  which 
perhaps  may  be  more  opportune  in  some  fu- 
ture hour,  yet,  at  least,  in  clear,  firm  hope, 
and  strong  confidence,  sent  from  above  into  a 
praying  soul.  Prayer  soars  above  the  vio- 
lence and  impiety  of  men,  and  with  a  swift 
wing  commits  itself  to  Heaven,  with  happy 
omen,  if  I  may  allude  to  what  the  learned 
tell  us  of  the  augury  of  the  ancienis,  which  I 
shall  not  minutely  discuss.  Fervent  prayers 
siietch  forth  a  strong,  wide-extended  wing, 
and  while  the  birds  of  night  hover  beneath, 
they  mount  aloft  and  point  out,  as  it  were, 
the  proper  seats  to  which  we  should  aspire. 
For  certainly  there  is  nothing  that  cuts  the  air 
so  swiftly,  nothing  that  takes  so  sublime,  so 
happy,  and  so  auspicious  a  flight  as  prayer, 
which  bears  the  soul  on  its  pinions,  and 
leaves  far  behind  all  the  dangers,  and  even 
the  delights  of  this  low  world  of  ours.  Be- 1 
hold  this  holy  man,  who  just  before  was  cry- 
ing to  God  in  the  midst  of  distress,  and  with 
urgent  importunity  entreating  that  he  might 
be  heard,  now,  as  if  he  were  already  pos- 
sessed of  all  he  had  asked,  taking  upon  him 
boldly  to  rebuke  his  enemies,  how  highly  so- 
ever they  were  exalted,  and  how  potent  so- 
ever they  might  be  even  in  the  royal  palace. 

0  ye  sons  of  men.]  The  Hebrew  phrase 
here  used.  Bene  Isc/i,  properly  speaking,  sig- 
nifies noble  men  and  great  men,  as  persons 
of  plebeian  rank  are  called  Bene  Adam  .-f  '/.  d. 
Whoever  you  are,  and  however  illustrious 
by  birth,  or  inflated  with  pride,  or  perhaps 
formidable  oa  both  accounts,  your  greatness 
is  false,  and  when  it  is  most  blown  up,  is 
most  likely  to  burst.  That  is  a  sound  and  sta- 
ble degree  of  honor  to  which  Gud  has  des- 
tined his  servants,  whom  you  insult  and  de- 
ride. The  height  of  your  honor  and  vanish- 
ing glory,  from  the  exaltation  of  which  you 
look  down  upon  me,  will,  if  you  desire  I 
should  speak  the  truth,  only  render  your  fu- 
ture fall  more  grievous  and  fatal,  which  he 
whose  destruction  you  seek  with  such  insa- 
tiable rage,  sees  indeed,  but  does  not  wish  ; 
nay,  he  rather  wishes  that  this  misery  may 
be  averted  from  you,  and  that  by  a  return  to 
the  exercise  of  your  right  mind,  it  may  be  to- 
tally prevented:  and  therefore  he  gives  you 
this  admonition,  lest,  while  you  are  deriding 
him,  unexpected    destruction   should  come 

*  rjoort  r(T)v  OeCiv  ironKriKiorepoi  av  sirj.  winrep  Kal  rtaj. 

dXA  firt  jrparrof,  rrirr  jt'Wo^a  ruv  Ocniv  iiCjitfriTat, 

t  Accorilingly,  tlie  Latin  renders  it,  not  filii  h'imi- 
num  but  jilii  virorum. 


upon  you,  and  yo»-r  laughter  should  prove  of 
the  Sardonic  kind,  which  nothing  can  quiet 
till  it  end  in  death.  You  have  indeed  great 
strengtli  and  deep  counsel,  but  these  things 
are  only  the  blandishments  of  y^our  ruin,  and 
the  splendid  prelude  to  that  misery  which  is 
hovering  over  you.  You  have  spent  time 
enough,  and,  alas  !  how  much  more  than 
enough,  in  giving  chase  to  such  vanities  ;  at 
last  regard  the  man  who,  in  the  most  disin- 
terested manner,  admonishes  you  of  the  most 
important  truths. 

How  long  will  ye  turn  my  glory  into  sha/ne.] 
The  Septuagint  appears  to  have  read  these 
words  something  different  from  our  copies, 
but  the  sense  is  nevertheless  much  the  same;* 
and  though  the  psalmist,  in  the  afiair  which 
he  had  in  view,  speaks  only  of  a  few,  the 
words  themselves  have  such  an  expressive 
dignity,  and  are  in  truth  so  unhappily  exten- 
sive, that  without  doing  any  the  least  violence 
to  them,  they  may  be  considered  as  an  ad- 
monition to  all  mankind.  O  ye  sons  of  men, 
how  long  will  ye  love  vanity  and  hes  ?  For, 
indeed,  what  are  all  those  things  which  we 
foolish  mortals  pursue  with  such  contention 
and  ardor  of  spirit,  but  as  an  ancient  expresses 
it,  "  trifles  that  are  like  but  the  shadow  of 
smoke  ?"t  But  we  are  to  speak  of  this  here- 
I  after.  In  the  mean  tiine,  let  us  attend  to  the 
words  before  us,  How  long  will  ye  turn  my 
glory  into  shame  ?  The  things  which  are  the 
brightest  ornaments  of  human  nature,  and 
which  alone  constitute  its  very  glory,  are  holi- 
ness, piety,  and  faith  ;  and  these  are  treated 
as  if  they  were  the  most  despicable  and  igno- 
minious  things  in  the  whole  world.  Among 
Christians,  or  those  who  are  called  by  that 
name,  it  is  the  greatest  of  all  scandal  to  be  a 
Christian  indeed.  We  have  long  since  lost 
the  true  names  of  things;  candid  simplicity 
of  manners  is  despised  as  rusticity  ;  lively  re- 
ligion is  called  the  delirious  dream  of  super- 
stitious notions  ;  and  gentleness,  dulness,  and 
stupidity  :  while  pride  has  usurped  the  name 
of  magnf^nimity,  and  craft  that  of  wisdom. 
Thus  we  turn  true  glory  into  sharne,  and 
shame  into  glory.  And  because  few  are  able 
to  discern  what  tends  to  their  eternal  happi- 
ness, they  squander  away  the  whole  day  of 
this  short  life  iiii  pursuing  and  catching  at  the 
false  and  fictitious  forms  of  it ;  yea,  they  seek 
a  lie,  lying  vanilr/.  And  they  who  heap  up 
riches  seem  to  be  wise  both  to  themselves 
and  others ;  but  oh,  how  far  from  it,  and  with 
how  base  a  lie  do  they  impose  upon  them- 
selves I  For  these  riches  are  spent  upon 
gratifying  their  palate,  and  ministering  in 
other  respects  to  their  luxury.  Into  how 
foui  a  gulf  do  they  throw  what  they  hav« 
labored  so  eagerly  to  gain  !  Or  if  they  hoard 
up  their  wealth,  how  soon  do  they  pass  over 

*  They  render  it  '  ws  rort  papvKixpHiai,  "  How  longara 
yc  slow  of  heart."    And  tlje  Latins,  fyw" 
entile.    Instead  a(  Kebuili  lekelesseh,  they  read  Kebudt 
leklr.m. 

I      t  i'^iiovrs  Snravra  Kai  KaTrvov  (rxiai. 


3G0 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  IV. 


LVer  3. 


the  i)roperty  to  tlu'ir  lu'irs !  Men  hunt  after 
fame  and  vain  s'^^'  V'  ''"il>  when  iliey  seem  to 
liave  caught  it,  feed  upon  air,  and  become  the 
slaves  of  all,  even  the  meanest,  for  a  thing 
of  naught.  And  as  for  pleasure,  who  is  so 
senseless  as  not  to  know  how  deceui'ul  a  lie 
it  proves  at  last  ?  It  drives  men  into  a  weak 
phrensy,  to  run  after  the  most  trifling  objects 
of  pursuit,  which  fly  from  them  like  bees, 
who,  if  they  are  taken,  yield  but  a  drop  of 
honey,  and  repay  the  spoil  of  it  with  a  painful 
sting  ;  a  sting  which,  alas,  reaches  the  very 
heart.  Religion  is  a  high  sublime  thing, 
royal,  uncuncjuerable,  unwearied  ;  but  pleas- 
ure is  low,  servile,  weak,  and  withering.  Re- 
ligion is  neither  attended  by  sickly  disgust  in 
the  enjoyment,  nor  by  bitter  repentance  in  the 
rellection  ;  but  what  the  world  calls  pleasure 
i.^  attended  by  both.  Hear,  my  young  I'riend, 
hear  the  Divine  voice  of  celestial  wisdom 
calling  you  with  fervent  affection  and  a  loud 
er\ ,  I'rom  the  trackless  ways  of  error  and  pre- 
cipices of  misery.  How  loii;^,  does  she  say, 
how  Inns;  it-'Ul  ye  love  vanity,  and  seek  after 
leasing}  He  that  seeks  me,  shall  not  be 
wearied  m  running  hither  and  thither,  but 
shall  find  me  silting  at  his  door  and  waiting 
admittance  ;  and  he  who  finds  me  needs  seek 
nothing  else,  unless  he  be  one  whom  a  life  of 
real  happiness  can  not  satisfy.  Oh,  that  the 
indefatigable  labor  and  industry  with  which 
men  pursue  flattering  and  uncertain  enjoy- 
ments may  stir  up  yeiur  minds  to  exert  at  least 
an  ecjual  diligence  in  this  sublime  and  most 
blessed  pursuit  !  For  if,  as  St.  Chrysostom 
speaks,  it  may  seem  indecent  for  me  to  press 
you  further  to  such  an  attachment  to  these 
objects  as  they  require,  it  will  be  a  lovely 
thing  to  give  it  without  further  solicitation. 
But  to  proceed, 

How  lotig  will  you  love  vanity,  and  seek 
after  leasing.']  Can  any  one  deny  that  this 
is  the  character  of  almost  everything  that  is 
to  be  found  in  human  life?  Should  a  man 
proclaim  this  in  every  company  with  a  loud 
Voice,  he  would  soon  pass  for  a  lunatic  ;  but 
certainly,  he  might  reproach  them  with  the 
gener:d  madiuvs  which  reigns  among  man- 
kind, not  only  among  the  vulgar  that  he  meets 
with  in  the  streets,  but  the  philosophers  dis- 
puting in  the  school,  the  counsellors  pleading 
in  our  courts  of  judicature,  yea,  the  seijators 
and  nobles  that  sit  in  the  most  august  assem- 
bly. And  oh,  how  happy  are  they,  of  what- 
ever order,  whom  the  hand  of  God  draws  out 
of  the  crowd,  and  turns  their  minds  from  these 
various  lying  and  transitory  vanities,  to  the  } 
pursuit  of  true  and  lasting  good  !  Hai)i)y  they 
whom  he,  by  a  wonderful  interposition  of  i 
grace  in  their  favor,  .sc/.s  apart  as  dear  to  him- 
self.   Which  leads  to  the  3d  verse.  j 

Ver.  3.  But  know,  tliat  the  Lord  hath  set  apart  him 
that  is  godly  lor  iiimself:  the  Lord  will  hear  me  i 
when  I  call  unto  liini. 

The  prophet  hath  this  great  support  both 
of  his  faith  and  of  his  kingdom,  the  iinmuta-  j 
ble  and  unshaken  decree  of  the  supreme  and  ^ 


universal  king,  and  it  is  the  firm  establish 
ment  of  David's  infinitely  greater  Son  in  his 
throne  and  kingdom,  I  v  ill  declare  the  decree. 
Psalm  ii,  7.  In  this  verse,  and  there,  we  may 
most  properly  understaitd  it  of  both  ;  more 
immediately  of  David  as  the  type,  but  chiefly, 
and  in  its  consummate  sense,  as  referring  to 
Christ  the  Lord,  and  having  its  full  end  and 
accomplishment  in  his  endless  and  eternal 
kingdom.  He  is,  by  way  of  eminence,  God's 
holy  one,  holy,  and  harmless,  undejiled,  5f  «- 
rale  from  sinners.  And  those,  whoever  they 
are,  who  endeavor  to  oppose  themselves  to 
the  Divine  purposes,  betray  the  most  despe- 
rate madness,  and  on  whatever  strength  or 
counsel  they  depend  in  the  enterprise,  like 
waves  dashed  against  the  solid  rock,  they 
shall  be  broken  in  pieces,  by  what  they  vainly 
attempt  to  break.  And  on  this  basis  does  the 
whole  safety  of  the  whole  church  rest,  and 
that  of  all  God's  saints,  of  all  those  ichom  he 
sets  apart  for  himself ,  a.i\d  (as  the  form  of  the 
original  here  has  been  thought  to  imply) 
wonderfully  separates,  as  his  peculiar  people 
and  treasure,  the  sacred  charge  of  Christ  the 
great  shepherd  and  bishop  of  souls,  which  all 
the  powers  of  earth  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall 
in  vain  attempt  to  wrest  from  him.  And  this 
is  the  confidence  on  which  believers  should 
repose  themselves.  They  never  trust  to  them- 
selves or  their  own  strength  or  virtues,  but 
ihey  often  redouble  that  cry.  Thou,  Lord,  art 
my  rock,  and  my  fortress,  and  my  deliverer. 
Psalm  xviii.  2.  And  Psalm  xxxiv.  8,  Blessed, 
O  Lord,  is  the  man  who  Iriisteth  in  thee,  who 
must  previously  and  necessarily  despair  first 
of  himself,  as  considered  in  Iwmself  alone,  as 
the  great  apostle  says.  When  I  am  weak,  then 
am  1  strongest  of  all,  2  Cor.  X"i.  10  ;  accord- 
ing to  that  lively  and  just  expression,  "  Faith 
which  is  endangered  in  security,  in  secure  in 
danger."* 

The  psalmist  adds,  The  Lord  will  hear  me 
whe?i  I  call.  From  the  Divine  decree  and 
favor,  he  promises  not  to  himself  an  entire 
freedom  from  all  and  every  attempt  of  his 
enemies,  but  assures  himself  that  God  will  be 
prcsen'  in  the  miilst  ol'his  calamities,  present 
and  propitious;  lujt  to  the  indolent  and  drowsy 
soul,  but  to  that  which  solicits  his  assistance 
by  prayer.  And  this  is  the  determination  of 
every  godly  man,  whom  the  Lord  has  set 
apart  for  himself,  that  he  will  call  upon  God 
without  ceasing,  and  that  if  any  unusual  dif- 
ficulty arise,  he  will  call  upon  him  more  fer- 
vently. Hence  it  api)ears,  how  entirely  all 
our  safety  depends  upon  praver.  Yet,  all  our 
prayers,  and  those  of  the  whole  church,  are 
sustained  by  those  prayers  of  our  great  king 
and  priest;  as  Augustine  says  in  reference  to 
that  known  story  in  the  Evangelists,  Because 
the  waves  rise,  the  ship  may  be  tossed,  hut  be- 
cause Christ  prays,  it  can  not  be  sunk.^ 

•  Fides  quiB  in  seciiritale  periclitatur  in  periculis 

secura  est. 

t  Quia  insurgiint  fliictus,  potest  turbari  'lavicula,  se^ 
(juia  Chrislus  orat,  non  potest  mergi. 


Ver.  4.1 


MEDITATIONS 


OM  PSALM  IV. 


361 


Veb,  4.  Stand  ii  awe  an.l  sin  not  :  commune  with 
your  own  beatt  on  your  bed,  and  be  still.  Selak. 
Oh  most  friendly  counsel  which  is  here  of- 
'"ered  to  enemies  :  Tliis  is  indeed  overcom- 
ing hatred  and  injury  with  the  very  best  of 
favors  ;  by  far  the  most  noble  kind  of  victory. 
A  sublime  and  heavenly  mind,  like  the  upper 
region  of  the  world,  is  not  only  iiself  always 
calm  and  serene,  as  being  inaccessible  to 
every  breath  of  injury  and  turbulent  impres- 
sion, but  it  also  continually  sheds  down  its 
benign  inlluences  without  distinction  on  all 
below  it,  OH  the  evil  and  the  good,  the  just 
and  the  unjust.  Stand  m  awe  :  the  Hebrew 
and  Greek  have  it,  be  ye  moved  ;  and  as  this 
emotion  may  arise  either  from  anger,  fear,  or 
any  other  affection  of  the  mind,  the  Sepluagint 
renders  it,  be  angry  and  sin  not,  a  maxim 
which  St.  Paul  finding  to  his  purpose,  inserts 
ui  his  episile  to  the  Ephesians,  ch.  iv.  26. 
Nevertheless,  the  author  of  this  psalm  here 
seems  apparently  to  demand  their  fear  rather 
than  their  anger  ;  and  accordingly,  the  Tar- 
gu/n  explains  it, /far  htm.  i.  e.  God,  and  sin 
not  :  Kiochi— /e«r  the  Lord  who  has  chosen 
me  king,  and  Abenezra — fear  God  and  despise 
not  my  glory,  for  that  great  king  will  reijuire 
the  derision  at  the  hand  of  the  deriders. 

The  passions  are  the  inmost  wheels  of  this 
machine  which  we  call  man,  whose  motions 
all  the  rest  of  the  life  follows,  and  all  the 
errors  of  this  career  of  ours  proceed  from  their 
irregularity.  Of  so  great  importance  is  it 
ihat  every  one  rightly  determine  what  he 
should  desire,  and  hope,  and  fear.  And  from 
the  time  that  man  lost  the  ingenuousness  of 
his  disposition,  and  became  like  a  wild  ass- 
coll,  the  use  of  fear  is  become  very  great.  It 
is  true  that  they  who  are  born  again,  and  who 
really  are  the  sons  of  God,  are  especially  led 
by  the  sweet  and  noble  energy  6f  this  Divine 
principle,  and  therefore  it  is  the  saying  of  the 
beloved  apostle,  that  -perfect  love,  or  charity, 
casteth  out  fear.  1  John  iv.  18.  But  as  the 
generality  of  mankind  are  either  entirely 
destitute  of  this  Divine  love,  or  possess  it 
only  in  a  very  low  and  imperfect  degree,  so 
it  is  certain,  that  wiih  regard  to  him  whose 
heart  is  most  eniirely  fired  with  this  celestial 
dame,  we  may  understand  the  words  as  signi- 
fying, that  in  such  a  one  this  great  and  fer- 
vent love  does  indeed  cast  out  all  despairings 
tnd  diffident  fears,  but  not  that  of  a  pious  and 
reverential  awe.  Alas!  most  of  us,  under 
the  pretence  of  avoiding  a  servile  terror,  per- 
/ersely  shake  off  the  bonds  of  holy  and  in- 
genuous fear,  and  become  obstinate  and  self- 
willed  ;  whereas,  when  we  look  into  the  word 
of  God  we  shall  find  the  holiest  men  there 
tremble  in  the  Divine  presence,  and  some- 
times ackncrwledgc  even  greater  horror  of 
mind.  My  flesh  tremlileth  fnr  fear  of  thee, 
and  [  am  afraid  of  thy  judgments.  Psalm 
cxix.  120.  Destruction  from  God  was  a  ter- 
ror to  me,  and  because  of  his  excellency  I 
could  not  endure.  Job  xxxi.  2.3.  In  this  sense, 
ns  David  declares,  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is 
46 


clean,  and  endurelh  for  ever,  psair"  xix.  9, 
endures  in  the  most  happy  agreement  with 
perfect  love.  Nor  is  it  to  remaia  only  in 
spirits  that  inhabit  flesh,  but  in  an  tne  angelic 
choirs,  pure  and  happy  as  thev  are.  Nay, 
the  profound  reverence  of  tnat  pierpa)  and 
tremendous  majesty  flourishes  and  reis'ns  most 
of  all  there  ;  for  in  proportion  to  the  degree 
in  which  the  knowledge  is  clearer,  and  vision 
more  distinct,  are  the  veneration  and  the  fear 
more  deep  and  humble.  How  reasonable 
then  must  it  be,  that  mortal  men.  beset  with 
sore  temptations  and  dangeis,  should,  as 
Hezekiah  expresseth  it,  walk  softly  and  trem- 
ble before  that  infinite  Majesty,  at  whose  voice 
the  earth  is  shaken,  and  at  whose  rebuke  the 
pillars  of  heaven  are  moved.  With  great 
propriety  did  one  of  the  ancients  say,  "  Fear 
is  the  first  swaddling  band  of  new-born  wis- 
dom,"* or,  as  the  Scripture  expresses  it,  The 
fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom. 
It  is  observed  that  the  original  word  there 
made  use  of,  signifies  both  the  beginning  diUA 
the  top  ;  and  in  both  senses  it  is  most  true. 
The  author  just  mentioned  admirably  says, 
"  Do  they  call  such  a  one  unlearned  ?  It  is 
the  only  wisdom  I  know,  to  fear  God  ;  it  is 
the  beginning  of  wisdom  and  the  end  of  all 
discourse,  as  Solomon  describes  it :  it  is  in- 
deed the  the  whole  matter,  the  whole- 
concern  of  man,  and  it  is  all  in  all — fear 
God."\  And  elsewhere  he  adds,  "  This  fear 
is  most  salutary  to  men,  but  at  the  same  lime 
most  rare,  superlatively  so. "J  And  once 
more,  "  It  is,"  says  he,  "the  greatest  of  all 
good  things,  to  fear  God;  and  the  ungodly,  in 
falling  from  it,  shall  not  be  permitted  long  to 
continue  in  the  abuse  of  his  own  folly. "|| 
Well,  therefore,  is  it  here  uddcd,  sin  not.  This 
fear  is  the  water  of  the  sanctuary,  lo  quench 
all  the  flames  of  concupiscence.  This,  says 
Bernard,  is  the  arrow  that  strikes  through  all 
the  desires  of  the  flesh.  Hence  arose  Abra- 
ham's fear  and  apprehension  among  strangers: 
Surely,  says  he,  the  fear  of  God  is  not  in  this 
place.  Gen.  xx.  11. 

But  in  order  to  produce  this  fear,  it  is  ne 
cessary  that  we  should  have  right  conceptions 
of  God  ;  that  nothing  impure  can  please  iiim, 
because  he  is  holiness  itself;  that  nothing  se- 
cret can  be  concealed  from  him,  because  he 
is  light ;  nor  can  any  sinner  surely  be  mad 
enough  to  hope  he  shall  escape  the  long  hand 
of  this  righteous  Judge  and  supreme  King, 
whose  power  is  immense,  and  who  can  not 
be  a  respecter  of  persons.    What  evil,  then, 

Gb£G. 

Naz. 

t '  \naUevTov  dvofidfrovtri ;  iitat>  (Toiptiiv  olSta,  rd  (poftcia 
Oat  OedV  dp^if  r«  yap  <70(piag^<p6^oi  Kriptou"  ;f«i  Tt\n<;  A)5- 
ynv^  rd  irav  I'ikovs,  i<prj  ^Xu/4a)i/,  TOtf  Osdv  (poS'Jv.—GRKGt 

Naz.  Or.  28. 

J  ^60os  6i  Ocoii,  dvOpdairov  (Toirfiptos,  oirdvios  61,  onavi(i>» 
Tar  OS* 

II  *Aya06ye  jtrj*  ntyitTrov  diKafttXaOai  Oeov  o^ep  dire* 
Phs  ?KTna<j)v  oi  Ko\vv  ^pOvov  rrj  tavrov  jiopia  Kara^pr^ap' 
rai. 


i32 


MEDITAlioNS  ON  PSALM  IV. 


[Ver.  ^ 


■•»n  escape  with  ii.ipunity  ?    T/iou,  O  Lord, ' 
tnou  0/1/1/  art  to  he  J'citrvd,  and  iclio  can  stand 
ufiore  thee  when  once  thou  art  angry?  Psalm 
ixxvi.  7."  \ 

Commune  with  your  own  heart.]  Or,  as 
some  rciiiler  it,  examine  yourselves.  Oil,  how 
lew  do  this  I  Men  live  abroad,  and  are  indeed 
-irangers  at  hutne  :  the  great  mark  of  human 
madness,  10  delight  in  spi.iking  and  hearing 
oi  what  concerns  others,  "  While  no  individu- 
al will  attempt  to  descend  into  himseir."*  Yet 
tills  faculty,  which  we  call  reflection,  is  the 
peculiar  jiri  vilege  of  human  nature  :  and  to  be  I 
Dome  on  whi.lly  by  external  objects,  is  indeed 
nrutal.  And  oh,  what  heaps  of  disorder,  what 
odious  filihiness  must  there  necessarily  be  in  a 
breast  wliich  is  never  looked  into  and  cleansed 
out  I  Dear  youths,  i^',  amid  all  your  other 
studies,  you  do  not  learn  to  converse  and 
commune  with  your  own  selves,  whatever 
you  know,  or  rather,  whatever  you  imagine 
you  know,  I  would  not  purchase  it  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  straw. 

On  your  bed.]  Or,  as  some  would  render 
it,  m  your  secret  chambers,  when  free  from 
the  noise  of  the  world,  and  hurries  of  their 
daily  business.  An  ancient  said,  "  The  re- 
flections of  the  night  are  deepest. "t  And  it 
lias  been  observed,  that  David,  in  the  nine- 
teenth Psalm,  ascribes  speech  to  the  day,  and 
wisdom  to  the  silent  night.  It  is  an  excellent 
advice  of  Pythagoras,  and  the  verses  tliat  con- 
tain it  do  indeed  deserve  to  be  called  <ioldcn, 
that  -'  We  should  not  allow  ourselves  to  go 
to  sleep,  till  we  have  seriously  revolved  the 
actionsof  the  day,  and  asked  ourselves, '  What 
have  I  done  amiss  ?  What  good  have  I  done, 
or  neglected  t6  do  ?'  that  so  we  may  reprove 
ourselves  for  what  has  been  wrong,  and  lake 
the  comfort  of  what  has  been  as  it  ought. "|; 

And  be  still.]  This  refers  not  so  much  to 
the  tongue,  as  to  the  mind  :  for  what  does  an 
external  silence  signify,  if  the  inward  affec- 
tions be  turbulent  ?    A  sedate  and  composed 

*  Ut  iiefno  in  sese  tcntat  descendere,  nemo, 
t  Radvrepai  yap  vvktos  fpivtf, 

%  The  oriffinal,  with  Mr.  Rowe's  translation  and 
paraphrase,  is  as  follows : — 

Mfj  6  XTTVov  fta\aKoTatv  eir  Sfifia<Tt  TrpotrSe^atrOaty 
Ylipi  Titiv  ripupiviov  Ipytiiv  rpXi  ^Kaarov  iTTcXQeTv. 
Ylij  napiiirfv  ;  ri  tj'  tpt^a  ;  rt  fioi  6iov  ovk  £~fXc<7^i;  j 
Ap^j^ffvos  (T  atro  Trp(j>TOv  eri^iOt  Kai  ^eTCTTCira^ 
Aeiva  fi£v  iiarpfi^aij  cirtrXfjadtd  ^prjara  ripirov. 

"  Let  not  the  stealing  god  of  sleep  surprise, 
Nor  creep  in  slumbers  on  thy  weary  eyes, 
Ere  every  action  of  the  former  day 
Strictly  thou  dost  ;ind  risrfiteously  survey. 
With  reverence  at  thy  own  tribunal  stand, 
And  answer  justly  to  thy  own  demand, 
Where  have  I  been  ?  In  wh;it  have  1  transffressed  ? 
What  !^ood  or  ill  has  this  day's  life  expressed  ? 
Where  have  I  failed  in  what  1  oucht  to  do  ? 
In  what  to  C.nd.  to  man,  or  to  myself  I  owe  ? 
Inquire  severe,  whate'er  froii  first  10  last, 
From  morning's  dawn  till  evenins's  gloom  has  past. 
If  evil  were  thy  deeds,  repenting  mourn, 
And  let  thy  soul  with  strong  remorse  be  torn. 
If  good,  the  goiid  with  peace  of  mind  repay, 
And  to  thy  secret  self  with  pleasure  say. 
Rejoice,  my  he:ut,  for  ail  went  well  to-day.'  " 


mind  is  necessary  in  order  to  know  ourselvei 
and  to  know  God.  as  it  is  hinted  in  Psalm  xivi. 
Be  still  and  know  that  I  am  God.  Such  wisdom 
both  deserves  and  demands  a  vacant  soul : 
it  will  not,  as  it  were,  thrust  itself  into  a  cor 
ner,  nor  inhabit  a  polluted  or  unqi'iet  breast. 
God  was  not  in  the  u-hirhrind.  nor  in  the  Jire, 
but  m  the  still  small  voice.  1  Kings  xix.  12. 
The  Holy  Spirit  is  peaceful  and  pacific,  but 
wicked  men  are  turbulent  and  stormv,  driven 
like  the  sea,  whose  waves  are  tossed  about, 
and  throw  tip  continually  mire  and  dirt.  Im- 
purity is  the  inseparable  attendant  of  tins  m- 
quietude  :  but  the  wisdom  that  is  f  rom  nbot^e, 
isjirsi  pure,  then  peaceable,  liyvi.,  i-Kcira  tlum'iKt,, 
pacific,  James  iii.  17  :  and  in  that  blessed 
country  to  which  it  teaches  us  to  aspire,  there 
is  the  most  perfect  and  everlasting  coiiabita- 
tion  of  purity  and  peace. 

Ver.  5.  Offer  the  sacrifices  of  righteousness,  and  put 
your  trust  in  the  Lord. 

The  mind  of  man  is  earthly,  I  say,  ii"s  'vv 
0OOTOI  c'tnt  as  mortals  now  are  entangled  in  the 
folds  of  flesh  and  sense,  it  knows  n'^t  liow  to 
rise  to  thinss  celestial  and  divine.:  and  when 
it  is  stimulated  with  some  sense  of  the  eter- 
nal Ddiy,  and  the  worship  due  to  him,  it  gen- 
erally slides  into  some  lighter  offices  and  ex- 
ternal rites,  how  carelessly  soever  performed, 
and  there  it  rests.  But  Gotl  is  a  spirit,  and 
requires  to  be  worshipped  m  spirit  and  in 
truth.  And  the  solemn  visible  sacrifices, 
when  instituted  by  the  command  of  him  the 
great  Invisible,  are  to  be  presented  by  every 
pious  person  with  all  humble  and  obedient 
regard  ;  yet,  the  chief  labor  is  to  be  employed 
on  the  pure,  sublime  worship  and  obedience 
of  the  mind.  The  heathen  philosophers  ob- 
jected to  the  primitive  Christians,  that  they 
did  not  sacrifice  ;  to  which  some  of  the  early 
apologists  reply  thus:  "The  Former  and 
Parent  of  the  whole  universe  has  no  nee.- 
of  incense  and  ol'  blood.  The  greatest  sac- 
rifice we  can  present  to  him,  is  to  know 
who  has  stretched  out  the  heavens,  who  has 
laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  who  has 
gathered  the  waters  into  the  hollow  of  the 
sea,  and  divided  the  light  from  the  dark- 
ness, who  has  formed  the  whole  animal 
world  and  the  human  species,  and  who  gov- 
erns them  all  by  his  nod  ;  and  acknowledging 
him  such  an  immense  and  omnipotent  being, 
to  lift  up  pure  and  holy  hands  to  him.'^*  And 
the  truth  of  this  sentiment  has  generally  pre- 
vailed throughout  all  ages  :  even  in  the  Jew- 
ish church,  while  the  obligation  to  sacrifice 
did  yet  continue,  with  all  the  laborious  insti- 
tution off  xternal  worship,  hoi iness, and righle- 
eousness,  and  integrity  of  heart  and  life,  weie 
acknowledged  to  be  the  most  essential  jmits 
of  religion,  though,  alas  !  while  all  confessed 
it  in  words,  there  were  very  few  that  set 
themselves  seriously  to  perform  it.  Hence 
arose  the  necessity  of  inculcating  this  lesson 
so  frequently.  Psalm  1.,  Isaiah  i.,  xxix-,  &c 
•  Atlienagoras. 


Ver.  6.] 


MEDITATIONS 


ON  PSALM  IV. 


363 


Aud  whal  is  there  taught  at  large,  is  here 
hinted  in  this  short  clause.  Since  the  temple 
has  been  demolished,  and  the  priests  with 
their  sacrifices  have  ceased,  the  Jews  them- 
selves have  instituted,  in  the  place  of  this,  the 
offering  of  the  lip,  with  the  commemoration 
only  of  ancient  sacrifice,  persuaded  that  this 
would  be  equally  effectual,  and  have'appoint- 
ed  three  daily  lessons,  calling  him  who  dili- 
gently recites  them,  a  son  of  eternal  life. 

Offer  the  sacrifices  of  righteousness.]  It  is 
■>o  improbable  conjecture  of  some  commenta- 
.ors,  that  David  here  refers  to  the  confidence  [ 
ind  boast  of  some  of  Saul's  courtiers  in  those 
sacrifices  and  that  solemn  worr.nip  from  which 
their  envy  had  perhaps  banished  him.  It  is 
certainly  much  easier  to  sacrifice  a  ram  or  a 
bullock,  than  lo  slay  anger  or  ambition  ;  ea- 
sier, indeed,  to  heap  up  whole  hecatombs  of 
animals,  than  to  resign  one  brutal  affection 
or  concupiscence  ;  yea,  easier  to  present  all 
our  goods,  than  ourselves  as  living  sacrifices, 
lliough  that  is  undoubtedly  our  reasonable  ser- 
vice. The  Mosaic  sacrifices,  tliough  instituted 
by  Grod,  borrowed  all  their  value  from  that 
Evening  Victim  which  was  to  be  slain  in  the 
end  of  the  world,  who  was  himself  the  sacri- 
fice and  the  altar,  and  the  one  only  High 
Priest,  after  the  order  of  Melchizedec  ;  wlio 
yet  instituted  a  perpetual  succession  of  those 
who  should  /)e  a  royal  ■priesthood,  the  wliole 
series  of  wliich  |)riests,  in  their  succeeding 
generations,  are  daily  offering  to  God,  the  Fea- 
ther of  spirits,  the  pure  and  spiritual  sacrifice 
of  righteousness,  most  acceptable  to  him,  as 
passing  through  the  hand  of  that  great  lU^h 
Pries!,  who  incessantly  ministers  in  tliat  hiiih 
and  holy  sanctuary.  As  Bernard  excellently 
speaks,*  "  Nothing,  Lord,  that  is  thine  can 
suffice  me  without  thyself,  nor  can  anything 
that  is  mine  without  myself,  be  pleasing  to 
thee."  And  St.  Augustine, t  "  Let  thy  fire 
entirely  consume  me,  so  that  nothing  of  me 
may  remain  to  myself"  And  this  one  holo- 
caust comprehends  all  the  sacrifices  of  righ- 
teousness ;  the  understanding,  the  love,  all  the 
affections  and  faculties  of  the  soul,  and  organs 
of  our  bodies  ;  all  our  words,  actions,  and 
thoughts,  prayers  and  vows,  hymns  and 
thanksgivings,  piety,  modesty,  charity,  and 
the  whole  clioir  of  virtues,  exercised  in  a  dili- 
gent and  hartnonious  observance  of  all  his 
precepts.  These  are  victims  and  perfumes 
of  incense  worthy  so  pure  a  Deity,  who  eats 
not  the  flesh  of  hulls,  nor  drinks  the  blood  of 
gnats  ;  who,  if  he  were  hmgry,  would  not  ask 
us,  since  all  the  beasts  of  the  forest  arc  his, 
and  the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills.  Offer 
unto  God  thanksi^iving,  and  pay  thy  voios 
unto  the  Most  Hiiih.  For  he  that  offereth  I 
praise  glorifies  htm,  and  to  him  that  orders 
his  conversation  aright,  will  he  show  the  sal- 
vation of  God. 

*  Nf>c  mibi  tua  stifficiiint  sine  tp,  npc  tilii  placont 
cnea  sine  mp 

t  Totnin  me  consumat  ignis  tuus,  nihil  inei  rcnia- 
aeat  taiiii . 


Even  the  heathen  philosophers  and  poets 
saw  and  taught,  that  these  sacrifices  of  a  pious 
mind  were  most  fit  for  a  rational  worshipper, 
and  must  be  most  fit  for  God,  to  whom  they 
are  addressed.  "  Strange  indeed  would  it  be," 
says  Socrates,  "  if  the  gods  should  look  to  the 
gift  and  sacrifice,  and  not  the  soul."  And  pas- 
sages  of  Horace*  and  Persiusf  to  this  purpose 
are  so  well  known,  that  they  need  not  be  re- 
peated. The  language  of  the  son  of  Sirach 
is  also  agreeable  to  it,  Eccles.  xxxv.  1-3  :  He 
that  keejjeth  the  law,  bringeth  offerings  enousrhj 
\  he  that  taketh  heed  to  the  commandment,  offer- 
eth a  peace-offering.  He  that  retjuiteth  a  good 
turn,  offereth  fine  flour;  and  he  that  gives 
alms,  sacrtficeth  praise.  To  depart  from  wick- 
edness is  a  thing  pleasing  to  the  Lord,  and  to 
forsake  unri ghteousness  is  a  propitiation. 

And  put  your  trust  in  the  Lord.]  This  very 
trust  with  which  the  mind  reposes  itself  upon 
God,  is  both  the  great  consolation  of  a  good 
man,  and  the  great  sacrifice  of  piety  and  righ- 
teousness. The  faith  of  Abraham  was  a  sac- 
rifice much  dearer  to  God,  not  only  than  the 
ram  which  he  actually  offered,  but  even  than 
his  dearest  son  whom  he  had  brought  to  the 
altar.  He  was  strong  in  faith,  says  the  apos- 
tle, and  so  he  gave  glory  to  God.  And  again, 
only  they  who  offer  the  sacrifice  of  righteous- 
ness can  rely  upon  him  with  a  true  and  solid 
confidence.  Not  that  these  sacrifices,  though 
the  choicest  and  best  of  all,  can  pretend  tc 
any  merit,  but  because  they  are  the  most  gen- 
uine signs  and  most  certain  seals  of  a  soul  in 
covenant  with  God.  So  that  there  is  indeed 
a  mutual  signing  ;  God  offering  the  dearest 
pledges  of  his  favor  to  us,  and  we,  in  like 
manner,  as  is  most  fit,  rendering  all  that  we 
have,  and  all  that  we  are,  to  him,  with  the 
most  humble  and  grateful  hciiri.  And  cer- 
tainly this  union  and  perpetual,  undivided 
friendship,  is  the  true  ti-Wiyia  of  the  holy  soul  ; 
that  tem])erature  which  alone  can  give  it  solid 
tranquillity  and  felicity,  as  it  follows  present- 
ly alter  in  this  Psalm. 

Ver.  6.  There  be  many  that  say,  Who  will  show  us 
any  good  ?  Lord,  lilt  thou  up  the  liglit  of  thy  coun- 
tenance upon  us. 

The  psalmist  now  returns  to  himself  and 
his  own  affairs,  and  having  sufficiently  ad« 
monished  his  enemies  concerning  the  true 
and  only  good,  enforces  his  exhortation  by  his 
example,  that  if  they  thouglit  fit,  they  might 
follow  it  (for  this  is  the  most  efficacious  man- 
ner of  teaching)  ;  but  if  thev  would  not,  that 
he  might  at  least  enjoy  the  benefit  of  his  own 
counsel,  and  wrapping  himself  up  in  bis  own 
happiness,  might,  frcjin  that  eminence,  look 
dow'i  upon  all  the  vain  and  wreicb^d  pursuits 
of  the  mad  vulgar.    Like  drunken  men,  they 

•  Immunis  aram  si  tctigit  manus : 
Non  sumptunsS  bland  lor  hostiS, 
Mollibit  aversos  Penatcis 
Farre  pio,  Pt  salientp  inicl. 
f  Compositnm  jus  fasque  aniuii,  sanctosque  recessut 
Mentis,  et  incoetuin  gener  >o  prctrts  honrslo 
Usee  cedo  ut  admoveam  teinplis,  et  I'arre  litabo 


364 


MEDITATIONS 


ON  PSALM  IV. 


[Ver.  7 


reel  ami  staiiger  from  place  to  place  ;  they 
often  I'all  clown  upon  their  face,  and  strike 
and  dash  themselves  against  what  they  de- 
sired to  einhrace.  Tiirough  all  their  life, 
with  an  unstable  pace,  they  catch  at  flying 
forms  of  good  ;  and  after  all  their  falls  and 
their  bruises,  they  cry  out  again  and  again. 
Who  wil/  shoic  M5  any  i^oot/  ?  And  when  ihey 
behold  any  new  species  or  shadow  of  it,  they 
imuRdiaiely  run  to  it.  Nay,  perhaps  so  light 
and  various  are  they  in  iheir  pursuit,  they  re- 
turn again  to  that  in  which  they  had  been 
frequently  deceived,  and  which  they  had  as 
often  abandoned.  Rabbi  Solomon  paraphrases 
the  words  thus :  "  When  Israel  saw  the  na- 
tions prosjjerous,  he  said,  '  W  ho  will  show  us 
a  like  prosperity  ?'  But  David  says,  '  Envy 
them  not ;  we  have  a  sublirner  prosperity  in 
the  light  of  thy  Divine  countenance.' " — 
"That  is  good,"  says  the  great  philosopher 
of  the  schools,  "  which  all  pursue."  The 
various  affections  and  desires  of  the  mind  are 
as  the  pulse  and  natural  respiration  ;  but  cer- 
tain internal  principles,  which,  not  inwrought 
by  nature,  are  afterward  received  and  deeply 
engraved  u])on  the  heart,  are  the  springs  of 
tli-At  motion  :  our  diiTerent  opinions  of  different 
things  do  nevertheless  all  meet  in  this — that 
we  would  see  good.  But  they  who  select, 
from  the  various  objects  that  present  them- 
selves, a  suitable,  complete,  aud  substantial 
good,  and  who,  neglecting  everything  else, 
bend  all  their  pursuits  to  that,  are  the  only 
wise  and  happy  men. 

This,  the  psalmist  professes  he  did,  and 
freely  invites  all  that  pleased,  to  join  and 
take  a  part  with  him  in  these  desires  and  pur- 
suits, well-knowing  that  the  happiness  was 
abundantly  sufficient  for  many,  for  all  that 
would  apply  themselves  to  it,  and  such  as 
could  not  at  all  be  diminished  by  being  im- 
parted for  it  was  indeed  the  uinipm  xa'SAi',  the 
self-sufficient  and  all-sufficient  good,  which 
was  one  of  the  titles  that  some  of  the  wiser 
heathens  gave  their  Jupiter.  But  he  of  whom 
we  speak  is  l/ie  living  and  the  true  God ; 
nor  is  there  any  other  good  whatsoever  ade- 
quate to  the  human  mind.  And  what  we  say 
of  his  infinite  sufficiency,  is  most  aptly  signi- 
fied by  this  adumbration  which  the  psalmist 
uses, — I  say,  by  the  adumbration  of  light,  nor 
do  I  think  fit  to  correct  it  as  an  mcongru- 
ous  expression,  for  light  is  indeed  as  it  were 
the  shadoiv  of  God,  and  that  fulness  of  su- 
preme good  which  is  in  him,  is  in  some  de- 
gree shadowed  out  by  light,  which  entirely 
illustrates,  with  the  full  stream  of  its  rays,  all 
who  behold  it,  and  is  not  broken  into  little 
fragments,  to  be  sparingly  distributed  to  each. 
Many  seek  many  things  ;  they  pursue  any 
good,  with  uncertain  and  ignorant  desires  ; 
but  we  have  fixed  upon  the  one  petition  we 
should  insist  ujion,  for  in  this  one  is  all,  Lord, 
lift  up  the  li^ht  of  thy  countenance  upori  us. 
Oh  rich,  grand,  and  incomparable  desire  ! 
Without  thisjallthe  proudest  palaces  of  mon- 
archs  are  gloomy  caverns,  dark  as  hell,  and 


all  the  riches  of  all  the  earth  mere  indigence. 
This  is  the  proper  light  ol'  the  intelleftual 
world,  and  it  puts  gladness  into  the  heart,  as 
it  follows. 

Ver.  7.  Thou  hast  put  giatiiicss  uUo  my  hean  more 
than  in  the  lime  that  ihcir  corn  and  thoir  wine  in 
creased. 

Gladness  into  mi/  he'art.^  To  which  the 
gross  delights  of  earthly  things  can  not  reach  : 
they  stick  as  it  were  before  the  threshold. 
Corn  and  wine  are  only  the  refreshment  of 
these  mean,  frail,  earihly  bodies,  and  the  sup- 
port of  this  corporeal  and  terrene  life,  but 
have  nothing  tJiiyyfi/ff.  congenial  with,  and 
a-kin  to  the  heaven-born  spirit.  It  is  said  in- 
deed that  bread  strengthenelh  mail's  heart, 
and  wine  makes  it  glad  ;  but  the  heart  there 
spoken  of,  is  that  which  is  the  spring  of  ani- 
mal life  and  natural  spirit :  whereas,  to  that 
heart  which  holds  the  preference  in  hu- 
man nature,  which  may  therefore  be  called 
the  r)yeiwviKtt,  the  governing  part,  there  is 
nothing  which  gives  light  and  gladness,  be- 
neath the  eternal  father  of  lights  and  of 
spirits.  He  cherishes  the  languishing  soul 
with  the  rays  of  his  love,  and  satisfies  it 
with  the  consolations  of  his  Spirit,  as  with  a 
kind  of  heavenly  nectar  or  nepenthe,  that, 
while  it  confides  in  his  safety,  lays  all  Us 
cares  and  fears  asleep,  and  lulls  it  into  deep 
peace,  and  calm,  sweet  repose  ;  without 
which,  if  the  mind  be  a  liitie  agitated,  no 
gentle  breeze  of  harmony,  no  melody  of  birds 
or  harp,  can  bring  on  the  pleasing  slumber, 
during  which,  nevertheless,  the  heart  awakes. 
Oh,  happy  man,  who  betakes  his  whole  soul 
to  God,  and  does  not  only  choose  him  above 
all,  but  in  the  place  of  all,  waiting  only  on 
him  !  Happy  man,  who,  having  been  chosen 
by  him  with  preventing  love,  and  unmerited 
benignity,  embraces  his  ample,  all-sufficient 
creator  I'or  his  inheritance  and  his  wealth,  of- 
ten repeating  with  sacred  transport,  Deus 
meus  et  omnia  '.  My  God  and  myall !  This 
is  the  man  that  has  enough  ;  and  therefore, 
to  allude  to  the  words  of  the  poet,  "  he  is  not 
disquieted  by  the  raging  of  the  sea,  nor  any 
severity  of  the  seasons,  whatever  stars  may 
rise  and  set."* 

God  fixes  his  gracious  dwelling  in  the  pure 
and  holy  soul  which  has  learned  to  despise 
the  vanity  of  riches,  and  makes  it  calm  in  the 
midst  of  hurries,  and  secure  in  the  deepest 
solicitudes.  And  not  merely  to  find,  but  even 
to  seek  after  God,  is  better  to  such  a  soul,  m- 
expressibly  better,  than  to  possess  the  richest 
treasure,  the  most  extensive  empire,  or  to 
have  all  the  variety  of  sensual  pleasures 
waiting  upon  its  back. 

I  remember  to  have  read  of  some  military 
officers,  who  crossing  the  Nile,  in  the  same 
boat  with  the  two  Macarii  of  Egypt,  said  to 
them,  in  allusion  to  their  name,  "  You  are  in- 
deed happy,  who  laugh  at  the  world."  "Yes,' 

•   Neque 

Tumulluosum  soUieitat  mare, 

Nee  sa'vus  Arcturi  cadenlis 

Impetus,  aut  orientis  hocdi  ^Hor.,  lib.  2.  On.  . 


Ver.  1.] 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  XXXII. 


360 


said  they,  '  it  is  evident  that  we  are  happy, 
not  merely  in  name,  but  in  reality,  but  you 
are  unhappy  whom  the  world  derides,  as 
poor  creatures  whom  it  sees  entangled  in  its 
snares." 

St.  Augustine  also  quotes  from  Politian,  a 
similar  example  of  a  Pretorian  soldier,  who 
walking  ou'  with  his  comrade,  found  in  a  cot- 
tage into  which  he  accidentally  came,  a  book 
containing  the  life  of  the  hermit  Anthony, 
and  when  he  had  read  a  little  of  it,  looking 
upon  his  friend,  said,  "  At  what  are  we  ta- 
king so  much  pains  to  arrive  ?  What  do  we 
seek  ?  For  what  do  we  go  through  the  fa- 
tigues of  a  military  life  ?  The  highest  of  our 
hopes  at  court  must  be,  to  share  some  ex- 
traordinary degree  of  the  emperor's  favor. 
And  how  frail  and  dangerous  a  situation  is 
that !  And  through  how  many  other  previ- 
ous dangers  must  we  pass  to  it !  And  how 
soon  will  all  the  advantages  we  can  hope 
from  it  be  over  !  But  T  may  this  moment,  if 
I  please,  become  the  friend  and  favorite  of 
God."  And  he  had  no  sooner  uttered  these 
words,  than  they  both  resolved  upon  quitting 
the  world,  that  they  might  give  up  all  the  re- 
mainder of  their  days  to  religion. 

Holy  men  in  former  ages  did  wonders  in 
conquering  the  world  and  themselves ;  but 
we,  unhappy,  degenerate,  and  drowsy  crea- 
tures as  we  are,  blush  to  hear  that  they  did 
what  we  can  not  or  will  not  do.  We  are,  in- 
deed, inclined  to  disbelieve  the  facts,  and 
rather  choose  to  deny  their  virtues,J.han  to 
confess  our  own  indolence  and  cowardice. 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  XXXII. 

Ver.  1.  Blessed  is  the  man  whose  transgression  is 
forgiven,  whose  sin  is  covered. 

Oh,  the  pure,  the  overflowing,  the  incom- 
parably sweet  fountain  of  scripture  ! 

"  Hence  light  we  draw,  and  fill  the  sacred  cup"' — 
whereas  the  springs  of  philosophy  in  human 
Bfl'airs  are  not  very  clear,  and  in  Divine,  tliey 
are  quite  turbid  and  muddy  ;  which  one  of 
the  greatest  (jrators  and  philosophers  among 
them  all,  freely  confesses.  •'  I  think,"  says 
he,  "we  are  not  only  blind  to  true  wisdom, 
but  are  very  dull  and  slow  of  apprehension 
even  in  those  things  which  seem  to  be  dis- 
eerned  and  understood. "t  Nor  is  this  to  be 
vyondered  at  ;  lor  there  would  be  little  differ- 
ence between  things  human  and  Divine,  if 
ihe  dim  eye  of  our  reason  were  sufficient  to 
discover  their  secrets.  One  of  the  ancients 
excellently  says,  "  If  you  examine  things  ever 
»o  accurately,  you  will  never  be  able  to  dis- 
cover them  if  God  keeps  them  veiled. "J 

•  Mine  lucein  haiirire  est,  el  pocnla  sacra. 

t  Mihi  non  nindo  ad  sajjionti.im  c!Eci  videmnr,  sed 
zA  ea  iptii,  qnaR  aliqua  ex  parte  cerni  videantur,  hebe- 
tes  ct  otitiisi.  Sknf.ca. 

J  *  .\AV  ov  yip  av  ra  Oct  i  ifovTTTov:  Oeoii 

MaU«tc  an  ovi'  ti  naiir  vnc^ikOoifOKonur. — Sophocles. 


It  would  be  a  vain  and  ridiculous  labor,  to 
light  up  a  great  number  of  lanterns  and  torch- 
es, and  go  out  and  look  for  the  sun  in  the 
night  ;  but  when  the  appointed  hour  of  the 
morning  comes,  he  arises,  as  if  of  his  own  ac- 
cord and  freely  manifests  himself,  by  his  own 
lustre,  to  every  beholder.  The  wisest  of  the 
heathens  undertook  to  find  out  the  Supreme 
Being  and  the  supreme  good  ;  but  wandering 
throBgh  the  devious  ways  of  multiplied  errors, 
they  could  attain  to  neither.  Nor  was  it  the 
least  of  their  errors,  that  they  sought  them  as 
two  different  things,  when  it  is  most  certain 
that  both  are  united  in  one  ;  for  it  is  the  only 
and  ultimate  happiness  of  man,  to  be  united 
to  that  first  and  Supreme  being  and  good, 
from  which  he  drew  his  original.  But  since 
there  has  so  sad  a  distance  and  disagreement 
arisen  between  God  and  ma.  by  our  deplora- 
ble apostacy  from  him,  ihere  could  not  be  the 
least  hope  of  attaining  that  union,  did  not  in- 
finite goodness  and  mercy  propose  the  full 
and  free  pardon  of  our  offences  :  so  that  the 
true  determination  of  this  grand  question 
about  happiness,  is  evidently  that,  blessed 
and  'happy  is  that  man  whose  Iransgressior^ 
is  forgiven,  and  whose  sin  is  covered.  Inno- 
cence was  the  first  means  of  obtaining  hap- 
piness, which,  being  once  violated,  the  only 
plank  that  can  save  us  after  our  shipwreck, 
is  remission  and  repentance  ;  which  two 
things,  the  whole  Scrijjturc  assures  us,  that 
the  Divine  wisdom  has  so  connected,  as  with 
an  adamantine  band.  And  this  psalm  now 
before  us  is  a  signal  declaration  of  it,  which, 
since  it  inculcates  so  grand  a  topic  of  religion, 
Kvpiav  Sa^av,  mav  Well  bc  styled  as  it  is.  Mas- 
chil,  a  lesson  of  instruction.  For,  as  St.  Au- 
gustine well  observes,  "  That  is  instruction 
indeed,  which  teaches  us  that  man  is  not 
saved  by  the  merits  of  his  works,  but  by  the 
grace  of  God."* 

Blessed.]  Or,  0  blessed  man,  or.  Oh,  the 
felicities  of  that  man!— to  denote  the  most 
su()remc  and  perfect  blcssedness.f  He  only 
has  attained  to  complete  feliciiy,  whose  nu- 
merous debts  are  all  remitted,  though,  far 
from  being  able  to  pay  them,  he  could  not  so 
much  as  reckon  them  u]).  And  blessed  is  he 
that  know.s  it,  as  the  proverb  is,  "  No  man  is 
happy  but  he  who  thinks  himself  so. "J 

The  man  whose  innjuilj/  is  forgiven.]  ^As 
the  word  is  nescvi,  it  might  be  rendered, 
Blessed  is  the  man  who  is  eased  of  the  heavy 
burden  of  his  sin.  A  burden,  indeed,  too 
heavy  for  the  strongest  man  upon  earth  ;  a  bur- 
den so  dreadfully  great,  that  God's  angels  are 
not  able  to  stand  under  it ;  for  many  of  the 
chief  of  them  were  pressed  down  to  hell  by 
it,  and  can  rise  no  more.  But  though  no  gi- 
ant on  earth  or  in  heaven  could  hear  it,  a 
Lamb  subjected  himself  to  it.    But  it  was  a 

'  QiiH  intpUigilur  non  mcritis  opcrum,  sed  Dei  gra« 
ti.i  hoiiiincm  litn'rari. 

t  As  the  Elc|)t]ant,  to  denote  its  vast  bulk,  is  spo« 
ken  of  in  tlic  pli:ral  iiiimlx-r,  Ihhemolh. 

X  Non  est  beatus  qui  se  non  putat. 


366 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  XXXII. 


[Ver.  2 


l,aiuh  itithnut  hiemisfi  and  without  spot,  bur- 
iloiiid  with  no  lo;id  of  his  own  sin,  nor  stain- 
ed wiili  I  111'  least  spot  of  pollulion.  T/ic 
Lamb  of  God,  the  Son  of  God,  wlio  is  him- 

St*ll   Gt;d,  is  lie,    y  lupuiv  TfiP   afxafnliiv  tov  K6<Tftov, 

who  lakes  away  all  ilie  sins  of  the  world,  as 
one  sin :  lakins  the  burden  upon  himself,  he 
bears  it  and  carries  it  away. 

Corerrd.]  That  sinners  may  more  clearly 
apprehend,  and  more  easily  and  firmly  be- 
lieve a  tiiiiic:  which  seems  so  ditlicult  lo  ad- 
mit, as  the  free  and  full  remission  of  sin,  it  is 
painted  out  by  various  beautiful  expressions 
niid  figures  in  the  sacred  Scriptures  :  u-ashin)>, 
cleansing,  //lolling  out,  scaticrina^  like  a  cloud, 
entirel i/for gelling,  casting  into  the  bottom  of 
the  sea,  and  here,  by  that  oi  taking  aimy  and 
covering,  and  by  that  phrase  which  explains 
both,  of  not  imputing  tliem.  And  this  ex- 
pression of  covering  tiiem,  is  with  f^reat  pro- 
priety added  to  the  former  phrase  of  lighten- 
ing the  sinner  of  the  burden  of  them,  that 
there  may  be  no  fear  of  their  returning  again, 
or  coming  into  sight,  since  God  has  not  only 
taken  the  heavy  load  from  our  shoulders,  but 
for  ever  hidden  it  from  his  own  eyes,  and  the 
Veil  of  mercy  has  taken  it  away  ;  that  great 
covering  of  Divine  love,  whi-ch  is  large 
enough  to  overspread  so  many  and  so  great 
offences.  Thus  it  does,  as  it  were,  turn  away 
■  he  penetrating  eye  of  his  justice,  which  the 
most  secret  inquiry  could  not  elude,  did  not 
he  himself  in  piiy  voluntarily  avert  it. 

But  you  well  know  what  is  our  propitiato- 
ri/,  what  tlie  covering  of  the  mercy-seat,  even 
Jesus,  who  was  tyjiified  by  that  Caporeth  in 
the  Temple,  which  the  Septuagint  render 
i\:i(7r,'joiov  hiOeiia,  a  propitiatory  covering:  by 
which  title  our  great  Redeemer  is  marked 
out,  Rom.  iii.  25,  as  the  same  Hebrew  word, 
Caphar,  signifies  both  to  cover  and  to  expi- 
ate.* But  that  the  thing  may  be  more  evi- 
dent and  certain,  the  thought  rs  repeated 
again  in  the  second  verse. 

Ver.  2.  Blessed  is  the  man  to  whom  the  Lord  impu- 
telh  not  iniquity,  and  in  whose  spirit  there  is  no 
guile. 

Aden-Ezra  paraphrases  it,  Of  whose  sins 
God  does  not  think,  does  not  regard  them,  so 
as  to  bring  them  into  judijment,  reckoning 
them  as  if  they  were  not  ;  oi  ^i*)  Xoyi{trai,  does 
not-  count  or  calculate  them,  or  charge  them 
to  account  ;  does  not  require  for  them  the 
debt  of  punishment.  To  us  ihe  remission  is 
entirely  free,  our  Sponser  having  taken  upon 
him  the  whole  business  of  payin<x  the  ran- 
som. His  suffering  is  our  impunity,  his  bond 
our  freed(/m,  and  his  chastisement  our  peace  ; 
and  therefore  the  prophet  says.  The  chastise- 
ment of  our  peace  was  upon  him,  and  by  Ms 

'  I',  ii  observed,  tlie  Hebrew  word  Eschnl  haccopher, 
which  some  render  a  r/usVer  «/  rainphirf ,  Cunt.  i.  'lA, 
may,  with  a  little  variation  in  the  readini;  (i.e.  read- 
ing it  fill  rol  harciipher) ,  be  rendered  a  man  of  nil 
kinds  of  reiiemplion,  ot  of  all  expiatinn.  So  the  Tnr- 
gum  interprets  it  by  expiation.  And  by  the  way, 
some  assert  that  this  psalm  used  lo  be  sung  on  the 
day  of  expiation. 


stripes  we  are  healed.  Distracted  creatures 
that  we  are,  to  indulge  in  those  sins  which 
brought  death  upon  our  dear  Redeemer,  and 
lo  be  so  cold  in  our  alTections  to  that  Re- 
deemer who  died  for  those  sins  ! 

This  \\"eighty  sentence,  of  itself  so  admir- 
able, Paul  renders  yet  more  illustrious,  by  in 
serting  it  into  his  reasonings  on  the  topic  of 
justification,  Rom.  iv.  6,  as  a  celebrated  tes- 
timony of  that  great  article  of  our  faith. 
"  David,"  says  he,  "  thus  describeth  the  bles- 
sedness of  that  man.  saying,  Blcssod  is  he 
tchose  iniquities  are  forgiven.^^  So  that  this 
is  David's  opinion  concerning  true  happiness* 
he  says  not,  Blessed  are  those  who  rule  over 
kingdoms,  blessed  are  those  generals  wlio 
are  renowned  for  their  martial  bravery  and 
success,  though  he  iiiinself  had  both  these  ti- 
tles to  boast  of.  It  is  not  the  encomiums 
of  the  greatest  multitudes,  nor  the  breath 
of  popular  applause,  nor  any  other  degree  of 
human  honor,  which  ertMles  a  man  to  this 
character.  It  is  not  Raid,  Blessed  is  he  who 
ploughs  many  thousand  acres  of  land,  or  who 
lias  heaped  together  mountains  of  gold  and 
silver  :  nor.  Blessed  is  he  who  has  married 
a  beautiful  and  rich  woman,  or  (which  in  his 
age,  or  even  now  in  those  eastern  countries, 
might  be  the  case),  he  who  was  possessed 
of  many  such  ;  nor,  Blessed  is  he  who  under- 
stands the  secrets  of  nature,  or  even  the  mys- 
teries of  religion  ;  but.  Oh,  happy  man  whose 
sins  are  pardoned,  and  to  whom  the  Lord 
does  not  impute  iniquity,  and  in  ir'iose  spirit 
there  is  no  guile,  whose  breast  is  full,  not  of 
feigned  repentance,  but  of  a  fervent  love  of 
holiness,  and  hatred  of  sin.  This  makes  life 
happy,  nay,  absolutely  blessed.  But  alas ! 
when  we  inculcate  these  things,  we  sing  to 
the  deaf.  The  ignorance  and  folly  of  man- 
kind will  not  c«ase  to  pronounce  the  proud 
and  the  covetous  happy,  and  those  who  tri- 
umph in  successful  wickedness,  and  who,  in 
chase  of  these  lying  shadows  of  happiness, 
destroy  their  days,  and  their  years,  and  their 
souls, 

"Alas,"  says  the  wise  Roman,  "  how  lit- 
tle do  some  who  thirst  most  impatiently  after 
glory,  know  what  it  is,  or  where  it  is  to  be 
sought  !"*  v^fiich  is  equally  applicable  to  that 
true  calm  and  serenity  of  mind  which  indeed 
all  pursue,  but  yet  few  are  able  to  attain. 
But  as  for  us  who  enjoy  the  celestial  instruc- 
tion of  this  sacred  volume,  if  we  are  ignorant 
of  it,  our  ignorance  is  quite  inexcusable,  ob- 
stinate, and  affected,  since  we  are  wilfully 
blind  in  the  clearest  and  most  refulgent  light. 
This  points  out  that  good  which  can  com- 
jileiely  fill  all  the  most  extended  capacities 
of  the  human  soul,  and  which  we  generally 
seek  for  in  vain  on  all  sides,  catching  at  it 
where  it  is  not  lo  be  found,  but  ever  neglect- 
ins:  it  where  alone  it  is.  But  is  it  then  pos- 
sible at  once  to  be  solidly  and  comjiletely 
happy  ?  You  have  not  merely  the  ideas  of  it, 

•  Quam  ig-norant  homines  glorine  cup'uli,  quie  en 
sit,  aut  quemadmodum  petenda. — Seweca. 


Vf.r.  2.] 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  XXXII. 


367 


bfli  the  il'iing  itself,  not  only  clearly  pointed 
uui.  but  most  freely  oHered,  with  divine  mu- 
Ui licence  ;  so  that  if  you  do  not  obstinately 
reject  the  offer,  it  must  be  your  own.  And 
this  happiness  consists  in  returning-  to  the  fa- 
vor and  friendship  of  God,  who  most  merci- 
fully grants  us  the  free  pardon  of  all  our  sins, 
if  we  do,  with  unfeigned  repentance  and  a 
heart  free  of  all  guile,  not  only  humbly  con- 
fess and  lament  them,  but  entirely  forsake, 
and  with  implacable  hatred  for  ever  renounce 

ihem,  w   fxaicap  eiSatfiioi'    re  kui    oXf3toi,     All  the 

names,  all  the  variety  of  felicities,  bliss,  and 
happiness,  are  accumulated  on  that  man  who 
has  known  this  cha/iire  uf  the  right  hand  of 
the  Most  High,*  on  whom  this  bright  day  of 
expiation  and  pardon  has  beamed.  He  easily 
looks  down  from  on  high  on  all  the  empty 
titles  and  false  images  of  earthly  happiness', 
and  when  he  is  bereaved  of  them  all,  yea, 
and  beset  on  every  side  with  what  the  world 
calls  misfortunes  and  afflictions,  ceases  not  to 
be  happy.  In  sorrow  he  is  joyful,  in  poverty 
rich,  and  in  chains  free:  when  he  seems  bur- 
ied deep,  so  that  not  one  ray  of  the  sun  can 
reach  him,  he  is  surrounded  with  radiant  lus- 
tre ;  when  overwhelmed  with  ignominy,  he 
glories  ;  and  in  death  itself,  he  lives,  he  con- 
quers, he  triumphs.  What  can  be  heavy  to 
that  man  who  is  eased  of  the  intolerable  bur- 
den of  sin  ?  How  animated  was  that  saying 
of  Luilier,  "  Smite,  Lord,  smite,  fur  thou  hast 
absolvud  me  from  my  sins."t  Wiiose  an<;er 
should  he  fear  who  knows  that  God  is  pro- 
pitious to  him,  that  Supreme  King,  whose 
wrath  IS  indeed  the  messenger  of  death,  but 
the  light  of  his  countenance  is  hfe  ;  who 
gladdens  by  the  rays  of  hi*  favor,  and  by  one 
smile  disperses  the  darkest  cloud,  and  calms 
the  most  turbulent  tempest  ? 

But  we  must  now  observe  the  complication 
of  a  two-fold,  in  constituting  this  felicity  :  for 
we  have  two  things  here  connected,  as  con- 
spiring to  make  the  person  sj)oken  of  blessed  ; 
the  free  remissicjn  of  sin,  and  the  inward  pu- 
rification of  the  heart.  In  whose  spirit  there 
is  no  guile.  This  siinplicity,  d/,  A<i-/K,  is  a 
most  excellent  part  of  purily,  oppcjsed  to  all 
wickedness  and  arts  of  deceit  ;  and  in  com- 
mon speech,  that  which  is  simple  and  has  no 
foreign  mixture,  is  called  pure.  Pardon  pre- 
sents us  as  just  and  innocent  before  our 
Judge  ;  and  that  sanctity  is  not  to  be  regard- 
ed as  constituting  any  part  of  our  justifying 
righteousness  before  God,  nor  as  only  the'con- 
dition  or  sign  of  our  felicity,  but  is  truly  and 
properly  a  part  of  it.  Purity  is  the  accom-  j 
plishment  of  our  felicity,  begun  on  earth, 
and  to  be  consummated  in  heaven  ;  that  pu- 
lity,  I  say,  which  is  begun  here,  and  shall 
there  be  consummated.  iJut  if  any  one  think 
he  can  divide  these  two  things,  which  the 
hand  of  God  has  joined  by  so  inseparable  a 

•  Alluding  to  Psalm  Ixxvii.  10,  where  tlie  Vulgate 
renders  .S>(/i7i,  hansje,  miitnlin  dexly/e  Exrel.ti ;  and 
several  other  Versions  nearly  asvr  wiUi  it. 

\  Keri,  Uoiriiue,  fori ;  nam  a  p  iccatis  absolvisti  me. 


]  bond,  it  is  a  vain  dream.    Nay,  by  attompt- 
j  ing  to  separate  these  two  parts  of  happiness, 
j  he  will  in  fact  only  exclude  himself  iium  the 
1  whole.     Jesus,  our  victorious  Savior,  has 
snatched  us  from  the  jaws  of  eternal  death  ; 
but,  to  be  delivered  I'rom  the  cruel  tyaiiay 
and  bonds  of  sin  and  to  be  brought  into  liie 
blessed  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God,  was  an- 
other essential  part  of  our  redemption,  and 
if  any  one  does  not  embrace  this  with  e-jual 
alacrity  and  delight  as  the  other  benefit,  he 
is  a  wretched  slave  of  the  most  mean  and  ig- 
noble spirit,  and  being  equally  unworthy  of 
both  parts  of  this  stupendous  deliverance,  he 
will  justly  forfeit  and  lose  both.    And  thib  is 
the  epidemical  Antinorainianism  of  the  Chris- 
tian world,  because  they  who  labor  under  it 
have  nothing  but  the  name  of  Christians- 
they  gladly  hear  of  the  pardon  of  their  sins, 
and  the  salvation  of  their  souls,  while  they 
are  averse  to  the  doctrine  of  holiness  and  re- 
pentance.    It  is  a  disagreeable  mess.ige,  a 
hard  saying,  and  who  can  bear  il  !    Bui  oh, 
the  incomparable  charms  of  holiness  !    It  is 
to  be  desired,  not  only  for  the  sake  of  other 
benefits  which  come  in  its  train,  but  espe- 
cially for  itself :  so  that  he  who  is  not  trans- 
ported with  a  most  ardent  love  of  it,  is  blind, 
and  deserves  to  be  thrust  into  the  mill,  to 
tread  that  imcomfortable  round,  and  to  grind 
there;  deserves  to  be  a  slave  for  ever,  since 
he  knows  not  how  to  use  liberty  when  offer- 
ed to  him.    Shall  the  Stoic  say,  "The  ser- 
vant of  philosophy  is  truly  free,"*  and  shall 
we  scruple  to  assert  the  same  concerning 
pure  religion,  and  evangelical  holiness  ?  Now 
this  freedom  from  guile,  this  fair  simj)licity, 
of  which  the  j)salinist  speaks,  is  deservedly 
reckoned  among  the  chief  endowments  of  a 
pure  soul,  and  is  here  named  instead  of  all 
the  rest,  as  nothing  is  more  like  to  thai  God 
who  inspects  ihe  very  heart,  in  nothing  do 
we  so  much  resemble  iiiui ;  and  therefore,  it 
is  most  agreeable  to  him,  because  most  like 
unto  him.    He  is  the  most  simple  of  all  be- 
ings, and  is  indeed  truth  itself,  and  there- 
fore, He  desires  truth  in  the  inward  parts, 
and  hates  a  h'  art  and  a  heart,  as  the  Hebrt  w 
phrase  is  to  express  those  that  are  double- 
hearted.    And  how  much  our  blessed  Re- 
deemer esteems  this  sim|)licity,  we  may  learn 
from  the  earnestness  with  which  he  incul- 
cates it  upon  his  disciples,  that  they  should 
be  simple  as  doves.    Matt.  x.  16.    We  may 
learn  it  also  from  the  honorable  testimony  he 
bears  to  this  character  in  Naihanael,  when 
he  pronounces  him,  John  i.  47,  an  IsrntUt* 
indeed,  in  whom  there  is  no  guile.    And  es- 
pecially from  his  own  perfect  example,  as  it 
is  said  of  him,  1  Peter  ii.  22,  Ih  did  no  sin, 
neither  was  guile  found  in  his  mouth.  Per- 
haps the  j)salmist  might  the  more  willingly 
niention  this  virtue, as  he  reflected  with  pen- 
itential distress  on  this  crafty  and  cruel  at- 
tempt of  covering  that  adultery  wliicli  he 
had  committed,  with  the  veil  of  murder.  But 
•  tiui  pliLlosophiiB  inservit,  est  ver<3  liber. 


365 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  XXXII. 


[Veb.  0, 


nowcver  that  was,  it  is  certain  that  this 
guileless  sincerity  of  heart  holils  the  first 
rank  in  the  graces  that  attend  true  repent- 
ance. It  may  be  sometimes  our  duly  to  open 
our  sins  to  men,  by  an  ingenuous  confession  ; 
but  it  is  always  our  duty  to  do  it  to  God,  who 
promises  to  cover  them  only  on  this  condi- 
tion, that  we  do  sincerely  uncover  them  our- 
selves. But  if  we  affect  that  which  is  his 
part,  he  will,  to  our  unspeakable  damage,  do 
that  which  he  had  assigned  to  us.  If  we 
hide  ihcm,  he  will  bring  them  into  open 
light,  and  will  discuss  and  examine  each  with 
the  greater  severity  :  "  He,"  says  Ambrose, 
"  who  burdens  himself,  makes  his  error  so 
much  the  lighter."*  "In  proportion  to  the 
degree,"  says  Tertullian,t  "  in  which  you 
are  unwilling  to  spare  yourself,  God  will 
spare  you."  But  whal  madness  is  it  to  at- 
tempt to  conceal  any  action  from  him,  from 
■whom,  as  Thales  wisely  declares,  "  you  can 
not  so  much  as  conceal  a  thought  Vt  But 
not  now  to  insist  upon  the  impossibility  of  a 
concealment,  a  wise  man  would  not  wish  to 
cover  his  wounds  and  his  disease  from  that 
physician,  from  whose  skilfifl  hand  he  might 
otherwise  receive  healing  ;  and  this  is  what 
the  psalm-ist  presently  after,  for  our  instruc- 
tion, confesses. 

Ver.  3.  When  I  kept  silence,  my  bones  waxed  old, 
through  my  roaring  all  the  day  long. 

While  he  suppressed  the  ingenuous  voice 
of  confession,  the  continually  increasing 
weight  of  his  calamity  extorted  from  him  a 
voice  of  roaring  ;  "  While  I  would  not  speak 
as  it  became  a  guilty  man,  I  was  compelled 
even  to  bellow  like  a  beast."||  Nevertheless, 
this  wild  roaring  did  not  move  the  divine 
compassion,  nor  atone  his  displeasure. 

Ver.  4.  For  day  and  night  thine  hand  was  heavy  up- 
on me  :  my  moisture  is  turned  into  the  drought  of 
summer. 

Hitherto  that  voice  was  wanting,  to  which 
th^  bowels  of  the  Father  always  echo  back, 
the  voice  of  a  son  full  of  reverence,  and 
ready  to  confess  his  errors;  without  which, 
cries  and  lamentations  in  misery  are  no  more 
regarded  in  the  sight  of  God,  than  the  howl- 
ing of  dogs,  according  to  that  expression  of 
Hosea,  vii.  14,  They  have  not  cried  to  me  with 
their  heart,  when  they  howled  upon  their  beds. 
A  dog  howls  when  he  is  hungry,  or  when  he 
is„lashcd  ;  but  from  a  son,  when  he  is  chast- 
ened, acknowledgments  of  his  fault,  and  de- 
precations of  his  father's  displeasure,  are  ex- 
pected ;  and  when  the  son  thus  acknowl- 
edges his  offence,  and  entreats  for  pardon,  it 
is  the  part  of  a  compassionate  father  to  for- 
give, and  to  spare.  Nor  do  we  indeed  con- 
fess our  offences  to  our  Father,  as  if  he  were 

•  AUevat  errores  ille  qui  se  onerat. 
t  Quantum  tibi  non  peperceris,  tantum  tibi  parcel 
Deus 

J   Ov  oi  XavBayttf  oiit  iiavuvficvo!. 
II  Dum  nolui  loqui  ut  hominem  reum  dccct,  mugire 
•oactus  Tjm  ui  brutum. 


not  perfectly  acquainted  with  thom,  butwe 
fly  to  him  who  requires  we  should  repent, 
that  he  may  not  show  us  by  piuuslunent, 
those  things  which  we  shun  showing  to  him 
by  confession.  "I  confessed  unto  the  Lord," 
says  Augustine,  "  to  whom  all  the  abyss  of 
my  sin  and  misery  lay  open  :  so  that  if  I  did 
not  confess  whatever  was  hidden  in  my  heart, 
I  should  not  hide  myself  from  him,  but  him 
from  me."* 

Thy  hand  was  heavy  upon  me.]  That  hand, 
which,  when  pressing,  is  so  heavy,  when 
raising,  is  so  sweet  and  powerful.  Psalm 
xxxvi.i.  2i,  and  when  scattering  its  blessings, 
so  full  and  so  ample.  Psalm  civ.  28 ;  cxlv. 
16.  He  would  not  at  first  be  humbled  by  the 
confession  of  his  iniquity,  and  therefore  he  is 
humbled  by  the  weight  of  the  hand  of  God. 
Oh,  powerful  hand  !  beyond  all  comparison 
more  grievous  than  any  other  hand  to  press 
down,  and  more  powerful  to  raise  up  !  He 
who  suppresses  his  sins  without  confessing 
them, 

Vvlmis  alU  venis,  et  cceeo  carpitur  igne  : 
"  Conceals  an  inward  wound,  and  burns  with  secret 
fire." 

Under  the  appearance  of  sparing,  he  is  indeed 
cruel  to  himself;  when  he  has  drunk  down 
iniquity,  and  keeps  it  within,  and  it  is  not 
covered  by  the  Divine  forgiveness,  it  is  like 
a  poison  which  consumes  the  marrow  in  the 
midst  of  his  bones,  and  dries  up  the  vital 
moisture.  It  may  perhaps  occasion  more 
present  pain,  to  draw  out  the  point  of  the 
I  weapon  which  sticks  in  the  flesh  ;  but  to 
neglect  it,  will  occasion  greater  danger  and 
more  future  torment.  Nor  will  the  dart  fall 
out  by  his  running  hither  and  thither,  but  on 
the  contrary,  as  the  poet  expresses  it  with 
respect  to  the  wounded  deer,  it  fixes  deeper 
and  deeper.* 

But  the  only  healing  herb  that  the  sinner 
can  find,  is  true  repentance  and  humble  con- 
fession :  not  that  which  acknowledges  sin  in 
a  few  slight  words,  when  it  has  hardly  looked 
upon  it  and  known  it,  but  that  which  pro- 
ceeds from  a  previous  true  and  vivid  com- 
punction of  soul,  and  is  inseparably  attended 
by  renovation  and  purity  of  heart  and  life; 
and  so,  as  comprehending  this,  it  is  some- 
times put  for  the  whole  of  repentance.  1  John 
i.  9.  If  we  confess  our  sins,  he  is  faithful 
and  just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse 
us  from  all  unrighteousness.  And  so  in  the 
Psalm  before  us. 

Ver.  5.  I  acknowledged  my  sin  unto  Thee,  and  my 
iniquity  have  I  not  hid.  I  said,  I  will  conft'ss  my 
transgressions  unto  the  Lord,  and  thou  lorgavcst 
the  iniquity  of  my  sin.  Sdah. 
True  and  genuine  repentance  halh  eyes, 
as  it  were,  on  both  sides,  irpoo-w  xai  o-niaw  PMttci  : 
it  looks  back  on  s'ms  already  committed,  to 

•  Et  tibi,  Domine,  cujus  oculis  nuda  abyssus,  quid 
occultum  essel  in  me  si  non  confitercr,  non  me  tibi 
abscondcrcm,  sed  te  mihi. 

t  Ilia  fugii  sylvas  sallusque  peragrat 

DyctJeosjhaeret  leeteri  lethalis  aruudo. 


Veb  6.1 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  XXXIT 


ament  them:  it  looks  forward,  and  humbly 
resolves  no  more  to  commit  what  it  has  la- 
inented.  And  each  of  these  is  expressed  by 
each  of  the  words  by  which  repentance  is 
signilied,  /iera,i£A£..i  and  iicravaia;  which  words 
are  therefore  used  promiscuously,  both  by  the 
sacred  writers  and  by  others,  so  that  the  re- 
ceived difference  between  them  seems  to  me 
to  have  little  foundation.  For  Phavorinus  in- 
terprets the  word  fieravoia,  an  anguish  of  soul 
under  the  consciousness  of  having  acted  a 
foolish  and  absurd  part ;  and  the  Latin  has 
the  same  signitication,  if  we  will  admit  the 
judgment  of  (rellius,  who  seems  to  have  been 
a  very  accurate  critic  in  affairs  of  that  na- 
ture. He  observes,  "  We  are  said  to  repent 
of  things,  whether  our  own  actions,  or  those 
of  others  which  have  been  performed  by  our 
advice  or  irkstiiration,  which  do  afterward 
displease  us,  so  that  we  change  our  judgment 
concerning  them."*  But  we  will  wave  all 
further  concern  about  words  ;  the  thin;^  itself 
demands  our  greatest  attention.  I  entirely 
agree  with  him  who  said,  "  I  had  rather  feel 
the  inward  working  of  repentance,  than  know 
the  most  accurate  description  and  definition 
of  it.''t  Yet  how  averse  sinners  are  to  this 
free  thoui'b  useful  and  saluiary  confession  of 
sin,  abundanily  appears  from  this  example  of 
so  great  a  man  as  the  psalmist,  when  taken 
in  this  unhappy  snare  ;  for  he  confesses  that 
he  lay  long  as  senseless  and  stupid  in  that 
quagmire  into  which  he  was  fallen,  and  that 
it  was  with  difiiculty  that  he  was*  as  it  were 
racked  into  a  confession,  by  such  exquisite 
tortures  both  of  body  and  mind.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  gracious  readiness  of  the  Father  of 
mercies  to  grant  pardon,  is  so  much  the  more 
evident,  as  on  the  first  word  of  confession 
that  he  uttered,  or  rather  the  first  purpose 
that  he  formed  in  his  mind,  immediately  the 
pardon,  the  full  and  free  pardon,  came  down 
signed,  as  in  the  court  of  heaven.  /  said, 
I  Will  confess,  and  ihou  forgavcst.  0  ad- 
mirable clemency  !  It  requires  nothing  but 
that  the  offender  should  plead  guilty,  and  this 
not  that  it  may  more  freely  punish,  but  more 
liberally  forgive.  He  requires  that  we  should 
condemn  ourselves,  thai  so  he  may  absolve 
us. 

Ver.  6.  For  this  shall  every  one  that  is  godly  pray 
unto  thee,  in  a  time  when  thou  mayest  be  found : 
surely,  in  the  floods  of  great  waters,  they  sliall  not 
come  nigh  unto  him. 

This  is  the  joyful  message,  this  is  the 
great  doctrine  of  the  gospel,  which  opens  the 
first  d  jor  of  hope  to  sitiner.s  ;  that  God  is  ca- 
pable of  being  appeased, yea,  that  he  is  actu- 
ally appeased  :  that  he  freely  offers  peace 
and  favor  to  those  who  have  deserted  him 
when  they  return  to  his  obedience  ;  that  he 

•  Pfpnitere  turn  diccre  solemus,  cilm  quoe  ipsi  feci- 
mus,  aul  qua;  de  nostra  voluntatc  noslroque  consilio 
facta  sunt,  ea  iiohis  post  incipiunt  displicere,  senten- 
liainqu*-  in  iis  nostrai  i  diTnutamiis, 

t  Malo  sentire  compunctionern,  qi^am  scire  ejus  defi- 
aitioneir. ,  Thorn,  a  Kempis,  1.  i.,  c.l. 

47 


runs  forth  to  meet  them  and  to  receive  them 
with  a  most  affectionate  embrace ;  and  hav- 
ing so  importunely  entreated  our  return,  will 
not  despise  those  who  are  treading  back  with 
prayers  and  tears  the  fatal  path  which  their 
folly  had  chosen.  This  is  what  we  so  fre- 
quently read  in  Scripture,  that  the  Lord  is 
gracious  and  very  merciful,  slow  to  anger, 
and  ready  to  pardon.  If  he  were  not  such, 
who  could  dare  approach  him?  But  seeing 
he  IS  such  a  Qod,  who  should  refuse  or  delay 
his  return  ?  Surely,  every  rational  and  pious 
mind  will,  without  delay,  invoke  so  gentle 
and  mild  a  Lord  :  will  pray  to  him  while  he  is 
exorahle,  or,  as  the  Hebrew  expresses  it,  in  a 
time  of  finding.  For  he  who  promises  par- 
don, does  not  promise  to-morrow.  There  are 
the  tempora  fundi,  certain  times  in  which  he 
may  be  spoken  with,  and  a  certain  appointed 
day  of  pardon  and  of  grace,  which  if  a  man 
by  stupid  perverseness  despise,  or  by  sloth 
neglect,  surely  he  is  justly  overwhelmed  with 
eternal  night  and  misery,  and  must  necessa- 
rily perish  by  the  deluge  of  Divine  wrath  ; 
since  he  has  contemned  and  derided  that  Ark 
of  salvation  which  was  prepared,  and  in 
which  whoever  enters  into  it  shall  be  safe, 
while  the  world  is  perishing.  Though  all  be 
one  unbounded  sea,  a  sea  without  shore,  yet, 
as  it  is  here  said,  the  greatest  inundation,  the 
floods  of  deep  waters  shall  not  come  nigh 
unto  him.  This,  the  psalmist  exhorts  those 
that  have  experienced  it,  to  teach,  and  deter- 
mines himsell'so  to  retain  it  with  deep  atten- 
tion and  firm  faith  in  his  own  mind,  as  in  the 
following  verse. 

Ver.  7.  Thou  art  my  hiding  place.]  Thou 
hast  been,  and  wilt  ever  be  so.  Thou  hast 
surrounded ,  and  thou  wilt  surround  rne,  with 
songs  of  deliverance  ;  even  me  who  was  so 
surrounded  with  clamors  of  sin.  Where  he 
further  intimates,  that  songs  of  praise  are 
perpetually  to  be  offered  to  God  our  deliverer. 
And  that  these  faithful  admonitions  and  coun- 
sels may  meet  with  greater  attention  and  re- 
gard, he  offers  himself  to  us  as  a  most  benev- 
olent teacher  and  leader. 

Ver.  8,  9,  10,  11.  I  will  instruct  thee,  and 
teach  thee  in  the  way  in  which  thnu  shnlt  go, 
&c.]  See  to  it  only,  that  thou  be  tradable, 
and  dost  not  with  brutal  obstinacy  and  fierce- 
nt-ss  repel  this  friendly  and  wise  counsel,  as 
capable  of  being  governed  only  by  violeikce, 
like  a  mule  or  unbroken  horse,  which  mjst 
be  held  in  by  bit  and  bridle.  Such  indeed 
are  the  greatest  part  of  men,  whom  the  phi- 
losoiihers  with  great  severity,  but  with  too 
much  justice,  called  [tnvytvi)  dv^^,6itp  pa,  "  Wild 
bulls  with  human  faces." 

But  it  is  added,  as  tlie  sum  of  all  admoni- 
tion, and  the  great  axiom  most  worthy  of  re- 
gard, that  Many  sorrows  shall  he  to  the  wick- 
ed [the  Septuagint  render  it  many  are  the 
scourges  of  the  .<:inner*'\,  but  mercy  shall  em- 
brace those  that  hope  in  the  Lord.  And  the 
Psalm  concludes  with  this  as  the  burden  of 


no 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 


[Ver.  1. 


It,  Rejoice  tn  the  Lord,  ye  righteous,  and 
thout  for  joy,  all  yc  that  are  vprtiihl  in  herft 
Truly,  iny  dear  friends,*  1  have  nothinir 
further  lo  wish  for  myself  or  you,  than  (hat 
we  may  heartily  helieve  these  tliin2;s  ;  for 
then  it  would  be  impossihle  that  we  slu)uld 
not  with  o]K'n  arms  embrace  true  religion, 
and  clasp  it  to  our  hearis,  since  nature  teach- 
es every  one  to  desire  happiness,  and  to  flee 
from  n)isery.  So  that  Epicurus  himself  would 
teach  us  to  lay  hold  on  joy  and  pleasure,  as 
the  TO  TTpwTOf  diKcioy,  ot  first  and  proper  good. 
This,  therefore,  let  us  lay  down  as  a  certain 
principle,  and  ever  adhere  to  it,  that  we  may 
not,  like  brute  beasts,  remain  in  subjection 
to  the  Hesh  :  that  safety,  and  joy  and  all  hap- 
piness are  the  properly  of  him  who  is  pos- 
sessed of  virtue,  and  that  all  virtue  is  com- 
prehended in  true  piety.  And  lei  us  remem- 
ber what  the  prophet  adds  (according  to  the 
Greek  translators!),  as  the  necessary  conse- 
quence of  this  principle,  that  to  the  wicked 
there  can  be  no  joy. 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 

Ver.  1.  Out  of  the  depths  have  I  cried  unio  thee, 
O  Lord. 

It  is  undoubtedly  both  a  useful  and  a 
pleasant  employment,  to  observe  the  emotions 
of  great  and  heroic  minds  in  great  and  ardu- 
ous affairs:  but  that  mind  only  is  truly  great, 
and  superior  to  the  whole  world,  which  does 
in  the  most  placid  manner  subject  itself  to 
God,  securely  casting  all  iis  burdens  and  cares 
upon  him,  in  all  ihe  uncertain  alterations  of 
human  affairs,  looking  at  his  hand,  and  fixing  ' 
its  regards  upon  that  alone.  Such  the  royal 
prophet  David  declares  himself  everywhere 
to  have  been,  and  nowhere  more  evidently 
than  in  this  Psalm,  which  seems  to  have 
been  composed  by  him.  He  lifts  up  his  head 
amid  surrounding  waves,  and  directing  his 
face  and  his  voice  to  Heaven,  he  says,  Out 
of  the  depths,  O  Lord,  do  I  cry  unto  thee. 
For  so  I  would  render  it,  as  he  does  not  seem 
to  express  a  past  fact,  but  as  the  Hebrew 
idiom  imports,  a  prayer  which  he  was  now 
actually  presenting. 

Out  of  the  depths.]  Being  as  it  were  im- 
mersed and  overwhelnu'd  in  an  abyss  of  mis- 
ery and  calamities.  It  is  indeed  the  native 
lot  of  man,  to  be  born  lo  trouble,  as  it  is  for 
the  sparks  (the  children  of  the  coal,  as  the 
original  expression  signifies)  to  fy  upward. 
Life  and  grief  are  congenial  4  l^ut  men  who 
are  born  again,  seem,  as  in  a  redoubled  pro- 
portion, to  be  twice  born  to  trouble  ;  with  so 

•  The  v'ord  Juvenes,  or  my  dear  youtlis,  occurs  here 
and  in  se  eral  other  places,  as  these  lectures  were 
delivered  to  a  society  of  young  ttienloijical  stiidenls  ; 
l)ut  it  did  not  seem  necessary  to  malic  tlic  translation 
80  exactly  literal. 

t  'Ow  ioTi  ^(11  pctv  Toij  AntPcai. 

X  '^li  ilia  uvyyctiiif  lari  Afiir^  xal  0i6s. 


many  and  so  great  evils  arc  they  as  it  were 
laden,  i)eyond  all  other  men,  and  that  lo  such 
a  degree,  thai  they  may  seem  sometimes  to 
be  oppressed  wiih  them.  And  if  any  ihink 
th>s  is  strange,  surely  as  the  apostle  expres- 
ses it,  he  can  not  see  afar  off,  fiwrnaC^a  ;  at  best, 
he  only  looks  at  the  surfaces  of  things,  and 
can  ncjt  jienelrate  far  into  those  depths.  For 
even  the  philosophers  themselves,  untaught 
by  Divine  revelation,  investigated  admirable 
reasons  for  such  dispensations  of  Providence, 
and  undertook  in  this  res])ect  boldly  to  plead 
the  cause  of  God.  "God,"  says  the  Roman 
sage,  "loves  his  own  people  truly,  but  he 
loves  them  severely  !  As  the  manner  in 
which  fathers  express  their  love  to  iheir 
children  is  generally  very  different  from  that 
of  mothers  :  they  order  them  lo  be  called  up 
early  to  their  studies  and  suffer  them  not  to 
be  idle  in  ihose  days,  when  their  usual  business 
is  interrupted,  but  someiimes  put  them  on  la- 
boring till  the  sweat  flows  down,  and  some- 
times by  their  discipline  excite  their  tears; 
while  the  mother  fondles  them  in  her  bosom, 
keeps  them  in  the  shade,  and  knows  not  how 
to  consent,  that  they  should  weep,  or  grieve, 
or  labor.  God  bears  the  heart  J'  a  father  to 
good  men,  and  there  is  strengtn  rather  than 
tenderness  in  his  love  ;  they  are  therei'ore 
exercised  with  labors,  sorrows,  and  losses, 
that  they  may  grow  robust;  whereas,  were 
they  to  be  fattened  by  luxurious  fare  and  in- 
dulged in  indolence,  they  would  not  only 
sink  under  fatigues,  but  be  burdened  with  their 
own  unwieldy  bulk."*  Presently  after,  he 
quotes  a  remarkable  saying  of  Demetrius  the 
Cynic, t  to  this  purpose,  "  fie  seems  to  be  the 
unhappiest  oi'  mankind,  who  has  never  been 
exercised  with  adversity,  as  he  can  not  have 
had  an  opportunity  of  trying  the  strength  of 
his  mind."  To  wish  to  pass  life  without  it, 
is  to  be  ignorant  of  one  part  of  oature,  so  that 
I  may  pronounce  thee  to  be  miserable,  if  thou 
hast  never  been  miserable.  If  thou  hast 
passed  through  life  without  ever  struggling 
with  an  enemy,  no  one,  not  even  thou  thy- 
self, can  know  whether  thou  art  able  to  make 
any  resistance:  whereas  in  afliictions,  we  ex- 
perience not  so  much  what  our  own  strength 
is,  as  what  is  the  strength  of  God  in  us,  and 
what  the  aid  of  divine  grace  is,  which  often 
bears  us  up  under  them  to  a  surprising  degree, 
and  makes  us  joyful  by  a  happy  exit ;  so  tha' 
we  shall  be  able  to  say.  My  God,  my  strength, 
and  my  deliverer.   Thus  the  church  becomes 

♦  Vere  suos  amat  et  severe  Dens.  Multo  aliter  pa- 
tres,  aliter  matres  indulgent  :  illi  liboros  ad  sludia 
obeunda  mature  e.xcilari  jubcnt,  fcriatis  quoquo  die- 
bus  non  paliuntur  otiosos,  et  srrpc  .sudorcin  illis,  et 
interdum  lachrymas  excutiunt :  at  nialres  fovcre  in 
sinti,  in  umbra,  contmere  volant  ;  nunquam  firre.nin 
quam  tristari,  nunquam  laborare.  Patrium  liaoet 
Deus  adversus  bonos  viros  animum,  et  illos  fortiiis, 
amat  ;  et  operibus,  doloribus,  ac  daiiinis  exagitantur, 
ut  venun  colligant  robur.  I>an!;ucnt  per  inertiam 
saglnata  :  noc  labnri'  tantiim,  sed  et  mole,  et  ipso  sui 
onerc  dcficiunt. — Sf.nf.ca. 

t  Nihil  mihi  videtur  infelicius  eo,  cui  nihi]  unquair 
evenerit  adversi ;  non  licuit  illi  se  experiri. 


Ver.  1.] 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 


371 


conspicuous  in  the  midst  of  tlie  flames,  like 
the  burning  hu^h,  through  the  good-will  of 
Him  that  dwelt  in  it.  And  when  it  seems 
to  be  overwhelmed  with  waters,  God  brings 
it  out  of  them  cleansed  and  beautified — mer- 
^as  profundo,  pulchrior  exilit  ;  he  plunges  it 
m  the  deep,  and  it  rises  fairer  than  before. 

We  will  not  here  maintain  that  paradox  of 
the  stoics,  that  Evils  tchich  happen  to  good 
men,  are  not  to  be  called  evils  at  all ;  which, 
however,  is  capable  of  a  very  good  sense, 
since  religion  teaches  us  that  the  greatest 
evils  are  changed,  and  work  together  for 
good,  which  comes  about  to  the  same  thing, 
and  perhaps  was  the  true  meaning  of  the 
stoics.  Banishment  and  poverty  are  indeed 
evils  in  one  sense,  that  is,  they  have  some- 
thing hard  and  grievous  in  them  ;  but  when 
they  fall  on  a  good  and  brave  man,  they  seem 
to  lay  aside  the  malignity  of  their  nature,  and 
become  tame  and  gentle.  The  very  sharp- 
ness of  them  excites  and  exercises  virtue  :  by 
exciting,  they  increase  it,  so  that  the  root  of 
faith  shoots  the  stronger,  and  fixes  the  deep- 
er, and  thereby  adds  new  strength  to  forti- 
tude and  patience.  And,  as  we  see  in  this 
example  before  us,  affliction  does  by  a  happy 
kind  of  necessity  drive  the  soul  to  confess  its 
sin,  to  flee  as  it  were  to  seek  its  refuge  under 
the  wing  of  the  Divine  goodness,  and  to  fix 
its  hope  upon  God.  And  this  is  certainly  one 
great  advantage  whicii  the  pitius  soul  gains 
by  adversity,  that  it  calls  away  the  afieclions 
from  earth  and  earthly  things,  or  rather  tears 
them  away,  when  obstinately  adhering  to 
them.  "It  is  necessary  that  they  suffer  such 
hardships  as  these,"  as  one  expresses  it,* 
"  lest  they  should  love  lliis  inconvenient  sta- 
ble, in  which  they  now  are  obliged  to  lodge, 
as  if  it  were  their  own  house  I"  It  is  neces- 
sary that  they  should  perceive  that  they  are 
strangers  and  foreigners  upon  earth,  that 
they  inay  more  frequently,  and  with  more  ar- 
dent desire,  groan  after  that  better  country, 
and  often  repeal  it,  uIct?  fiXoi,  ••Uof  aonrro;,  Dear 
home!  most  desirable  home!  The  children 
and  heirs  of  the  kingdom  must  be  weaned  by 
wormwood,  lest  they  should  be  so  enchanted 
by  the  allurements  of  the  flesh,  and  the  poi- 
sonous sweetness  of  secular  enjoyments,  as  to 
barter  away  the  true  and  pure' joy  of  their 
blessed  hope,  fur  this  false,  polluted,  and  dead- 
ly joy;  and  lest,  dissolved  in  i)leasure,  the 
heaven-born  soul  should  be  broken  under  the 
yoke  of  this  pernicious  flesh,  the  root  of  so 
many  passions.f  Lastly,  we  see  how  much 
vigor  and  vehemence  affliction  adds  to  prayer  ; 
for  the  divine  psalmist,  the  deeper  he  sinks, 
cries  to  God  in  so  much  the  louder  accents — 
Out  of  the  depths  have  I  cried. 

This  prayer  contains  those  precious  virtues 
which,  in  a  grateful  temperature,  render  ev- 
ery prayer  acceptable  to  God— faith,  fervor, 
and  humility.    Faith,  in  that  he  prays  o«<  of 

*  Kxp.'dit  orrinino  ut  tiic  dura  exporiantur,  ne  slab- 
Klim  ainf-nt  pro  doino  sua. 


the  deeps  ;  fervor,  in  that  he  cries,  and  both 
again  expressed  in  the  next  word  ;  faith,  as 
in  the  midst  of  surrounding  calamities  he  does 
not  despair  of  redress ;  fervor,  as  he  urges  it 
with  repeated  importunity,  and  the  same 
word  uttered  again  and  again.  And  to  com- 
plete all,  humility  expresses  itself  in  what 
follows,  where  he  speaks  as  one  that  fell  him- 
self sinking,  as  one  who  was  plunged  in  a  sea 
of  iniquities,  as  well  as  calamities ;  and  ac- 
knowledges he  was  so  overwhelmed  with 
them,  as  to  be  unable  to  stand,  unless  sup- 
ported by  pure  mercy  and  grace.  If  thou. 
Lord,  shouldst  mark  niiquities,  who  shall 
stand  ?  Thus,  here  again,  faith  manifests  it- 
self more  clearly,  together  with  its  kindred 
aff'ections  of  hope  and  charily,  which,  like 
three  graces,  join  their  hands,  and  by  an  in- 
separable union  support  each  other.  You 
have  faith  in  the  fourth  verse.  There  is  for- 
giveness with  thee  ;  hope  in  the  fifth,  I  watt 
for  the  Lord,  my  soul  doth  wait,  and  in  his 
word  do  I  hope  ;  charity  in  the  seventh  and 
eighth,  where  he  does  in  a  most  benevolent 
manner  invite  all  Israel  to  a  communion  of 
the  same  faith  and  hope,  and,  in  order  to  con- 
firm them  more  abundantly,  docs  in  a  most 
animated  manner  proclaim  the  riches  of  the 
Divine  benignity.  Such  is  the  composition 
of  this  excellent  prayer,  which  thus  compound- 
ed, like  a  pillarof  aromatic  smoke  from  myrrh, 
frankincense,  and  every  other  most  fragrant 
perfume,  ascends  grateful  to  the  throne  of 
God.  And  this  you  may  take  instead  of  the 
analysis  of  the  remaining  verses,  which  to 
handle  by  a  more  minute  dissection  of  words, 
and  to  clothe  in  the  trite  phrases  of  the  schools, 
to  speak  freely,  would  be  as  barren  and  use- 
less as  it  is  easy  and  puerile.  And  indeed  I 
can  not  but  form  the  same  judgment  of  the 
common  way  of  catching  at  a  multitude  of 
observations  frorn  any  scripture,  and  of  pres- 
sing it  with  violence,  as  if  remarks  were  to  be 
estimated  by  number  rather  than  weight,  pro- 
priety, and  use.  Bui  here  let  every  one  follow 
his  own  genius  and  taste  ;  for  we  are  willing 
to  give  the  liberty  we  take.  Veniam  damns 
petimusqne  vicis s i m . 

Out  of/he  depths.]  Oh,  the  immortal  pow- 
er of  Divine  faith,  which  lives  and  breathes  in 
the  midst  of  the  waves,  in  which  it  may  be 
plunged,  but  can  not  be  sunk  under  any  of  the 
hugest  billows  :  but  raises  itself,  and  the  soul 
in  which  it  resides,  and  emerges  and  swinr  ? 
above  all,  feWiH  ois  dfUnnuTa.  (like  cork  whicii 
will  still  be  above  water),  having  this  in  com- 
mon with  that  Divine  love  of  which  Solomon 
speaks  in  his  Son<^,  that  many  waters  can  not 
ijuench  it.  Whatever  great  things  the  stoics 
may  speak  of  their  wise  men,  and  whatever 
all  philosophy  may  say  of  fortitude,  it  is 
Divine  faith  that  truly  and  heartily  performs 
all,  by  which  the  good  man,  though  stri[)ped 
of  every  helj)  and  comfort,  wraps  himself  up, 
as  it  were,  not  in  his  own  virtue  and  strength, 
but  in  tnat  of  God  ;  and  hence  it  is  that  ha 
can  not  be  conquered  by  any  tyraimy,  by  any 


?72 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 


IVek.  I.- 


threaieniuffs,  by  any  calamities  of  life,  ))y  any 
fear  of  doaili,  fur  lu'  kans  ujion  OnuiiiuiU'nce. 
The  'Lord,  says  he,  is  my  light  and  my  salva- 
tion ;  u  fiom  shall  1  fear  ?  The  Lord  is  the 
strength  of  mi^  life  ;  of  ifhoin  shall  1  lie  afraid  ? 
Let  war  arise,  let  tlie  enemy  measure  out  his 
tenls  against  me,  I,  says  Faiili,  am  secure 
under  the  shadoic  of  the  Most  High,  and  eni- 
oracing  iiim,  I  will  fear  nothing. 

You  have  liere  the  psalmist  crying  with 
confidence  out  of  the  deeps.  Beiiold  alsoilie 
prophet  Jonah  indeed,  and,  as  we  say,  liter- 
ally, in  the  deeps,  and  in  circumstances  which 
miglit  iiave  greater  efficacy  to  shake  his  faith 
than  the  sea  itself,  than  the  bowels  of  the 
fish,  or  any  other  dei)th  into  whicii  he  might 
be  cast,  as  lie  was  not  entirely  free  from 
blame,  but  iiad  the  intermingling  guilt  of  his 
own  perverseness  ;  yet,  among  all  these  dis- 
couragements, his  faith  is  not  swallowed  up  : 
I  have  Cried  unto  thee  in  my  distress,  and 
from  the  very  belly  of  hell.  Thou  hast  cast 
me  into  the  deep,  and  all  thi/  waves  were  go- 
ing over  me,  so  that  I  miglit  truly  say,  I  am 
cast  out  from  thy  sight  ;  yet  at  the  same  time 
I  said,  /  leill  look  again  toieard  the  temple  of 
thy  holiness.  I  went  down  to  the  root  and 
cavern  of  the  mountains  ;  the  abyss  surround- 
ed me  ;  yet  when  my  soul  was  thus  over- 
whelmed ivithin  me,  I  remembered  the  Lord. 
You  have,  among  oiiiers,  an  excellent  exam- 
ple of  faith  in  David,  1  Sam.  xxx.,  when  the 
invading  enemy  had  burnt  Ziklag,  and  carried 
the  women  captive,  and  the  people,  in  the 
madness  of  their  rage  and  grief,  speak  of 
stoning  David  himself ;  yet,  besieged  with  all 
these  miseries,  he  stnnglhens  himself  in  the 
Lord  his  God.  Nor  can  anything  have  great- 
er depth  and  strength  than  that  expression  of 
Job,  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  tn 
hini :  not  only  when  fainting  and  dying,  but 
while  expiring,  as  it  were,  of  the  wound 
which  I  had  received  from  the  hand  of  God 
himself,  yet  will  I  hope  for  life  and  salvation 
from  that  very  hand  which  has  given  me 
death,  and  in  the  jaws  of  death  would  send 
out  this  last  word  with  the  last  breath,  and 
with  my  departing  soul.  Destroy  not,  0  Lord, 
one  that  trusieth  in  thee. 

Nor  is  this  confidence  of  a  pious  soul,  an 
opinion  fluctuating  among  the  waves,  or  a 
light  conjecture  that  it  shall  raise,  its  head 
above  them,  but  a  certain,  firm,  and  infallible 
assurance.  That  is  a  vulgar  and  weak  word 
of  comfort,  "  To-morrow  may  be  better  than 
to-day."*  But  the  language  of  Divine  faith 
is  stronger  and  firmer,  even  when  deep  calls 
unto  deep,  and  most  certainly  determines 
that  il  will  not  be  in  vain  ;  and  therefore,  in 
the  forty-second  Psalm,  not  dubious  and  trem- 
bling, but  with  a  steady  voice,  lie  silences  all 
the  noisy  tumults  of  an  agitated  mind,  and 
Bays,  Repose  thyself  on  God,  for  I  shall  still 
praise  him,  or,  as  it  may  be  rendered,  /  am 
gorns^  to  praise  him:  y.  d.  Amid  all  those 
tempests  which  rage  about  me,  I  am  thinking 

*  avplov  tauer*  a^uvov. 


of  that  hymn  of  praise  whicli  I  sb.all  pay  tc 
him  lor  my  deliverance,  and  for  the  liappv 
exit  out  oi'all  my  sorrows.  Though  at  pres- 
ent we  have  nothing  in  sight  but  darkness, 
and  whirlwinds,  and  rocks,  and  the  raging^ 
foaming  sea,  let  the  skill  anu  power  ol'  iht 
Great  Pilot  be  op[)osed  to  all  these.  And 
what  the  psalmisi  says  elsewhere  of  sailors, 
may  evidently  be  applied  to  those  who  go 
down  into  the  sea  ;  they  gain  this  by  their 
dangers,  that,  they  see  the  works  ol'  this  Great 
Pilot  in  the  abyss,  and  contem[)late  his  won- 
ders in  the  deep.  And  he  who  gives  himselt 
up  to  his  care,  and  fixes  his  eye  and  hope 
wholly  oil  ''im,  though  he  be,  or  rather  seem 
to  be,  shipwrecked,  and  lose  all  his  goods, 
yet,  if  he  docs  not  make  shiprtreck  of  faith, 
he  loses  nothing  that  is  properly  his  own. 
Nay,  when  he  is  swallowed  up  in  the  abyss  of 
death,  he  does  not  perish,  but  swims  through 
it  to  tlie  further  shore  of  eternity,  where  he 
finds  a  banquet,  a  palace  prepared  for  him, 
and  a  kingdom  that  can  not  be  moved,  but  re- 
mains to  endless  ages. 

1  I  cried.]  Prayer  is  the  natural  and  genu- 
[  ine  voice  of  the  children  of  God  ;  and  as  the 
Latin  word  oralio  properly  signifies  articulate 
speech,  as  it  distinguishes  man  from  othet 
animals,  so,  in  this  other  signification,  it  ex- 
presses that  by  which  the  godly  are  distin- 
guished from  the  rest  of  mankind  :  it  is  the 
proper  idiom  of  the  citizens  of  heaven.  Oth- 
ers may  recite  some  words  of  prayer,  but 
they  do  not  pray  ;  as  parrots  and  other  birds, 
by  the  industry  of  their  teacher,  :nay  learn  to 
imitate  human  voices,  yet  they  do  not  speak  ; 
there  is  something  wanting  in  all  their  most 
skilful  chattering,  which  is  the  very  thing 
that  is  also  wanting  in  the  language  of  most 
that  are  said  to  pray,  and  that  is,  mind  and 
meaning,  affections  correspondent  to  the 
words,  or  rather,  to  which  the  words  may 
conform  as  to  their  original  cause,  and  of 
which  they  may  be  the  true  index  and  sign. 
The  spirit  of  this  world  knows  not  how  to 
pray,  nor  does  a.  spirit  of  adoption  and  liberty 
know  how  to  forbear  praying — the  spirit  of 
adoption,  says  ti  e  ajiostle,  by  which  we  cry 
Abba,  Father.  Nor  can  they  who  are  new- 
born by  that  Spirit,  live  without  frequent 
prayer.  Prayer  is  to  them,  as  the  natural 
and  necessary  respiration  of  that  new  and  Di- 
vine life,  as  Lam.  iii.  56,  Turn  not  airny  from 
my  breathing:  the  Hebrew  word  there  made 
use  of,  leruhethi,  properly  signifies  the  vital 
respiration  of  animals.  Yet,  notwithstanding 
all  this,  what  we  said  above  is  true,  and  evi- 
dently appears  from  the  passage  before  us,  that 
affliction  often  adds  vigor  to  prayers,  how  live- 
ly and  assiduous  soever  they  may  have  been 
before.  Let  it  be  so,  that  prayer  is  the  natu- 
ral language  of  believing  souls,  by  which 
they  daily  address  their  heavenly  Father,  yet 
when  they  are  pressed  with  an  uncommon 
pain  or  danger,  it  is  no  less  natural  that  this 
voice  should  be  louder  than  ordinary,  and 
should  be  raised  into  a  cry.    It  is  indeed  the 


Ter.  2.1 


MEDITATIONS  ON  ESALM  CXXX. 


373 


breath  of  faith  and  heavenly  affections,  and 
when  they  are  vehemently  pressed  by  any 
burden,  and  almost  expiring  under  it,  they 
breathe  quicker  than  before,  and  with  great- 
er effort.  Thus,  they  who  have  been  used  to 
the  greatest  heights  of  daily  devotion,  yet,  in 
surrounding  calamities,  pray  more  fervently 
and  more  frecjuently  than  ordinary.  And  this 
is  to  be  numbered  among  the  chief  benefits 
attending  afflictions  and  it  would  surely  be 
well  worth  our  while  to  experience  all  the 
hardest  pressures  of  them,  if  we  may  gain 
this  ;  that  the  languor,  and  sloth,  and  stupidi- 
ty, into  which  our  minds  and  our  souls  are 
ready  insensibly  to  sink  while  all  is  calm  and 
serene  about  us,  may  be  happily  shaken  off 
by  something  which  the  wurld  may  call 
an  unhappy  event ;  that  some  more  violent 
gust  of  wind  may  fan  the  sacred  flame  that 
seems  almost  extinguished,  and  blow  it  up 
into  greater  ardor.  It  will  be  happy  for  us, 
that,  with  the  psalmist,  we  should  sometimes 
sink  in  deep  wafers,  that  so  we,  who  in  pros- 
perity do  but  whisper  or  mutter  out  our  pray- 
ers, may  from  the  depths  cry  aloud  unto  God. 
Oh,  how  frequently  and  how  ardently  did 
David  pray  in  the  deserts  and  the  caves,  and 
it  is  he  who  here  cries  out  of  the  deep,  and 
perhaps  these  deep  recesses  are  those  from 
which  he  was  now  cryinjr  ;  but  when  secure 
amid  thp  ease  and  delights  of  the  court,  and 
walking  at  leisure  on  ^lis  house-top,  he  was 
tempted  by  his  own  wandering  eves,  and  hav- 
ing intermitted  the  fervor  of  prayer,  burned 
with  impure  fires.  Our  vows  are  cruel  to  our- 
selves, if  they  demand  nothing  but  gentle 
zephyrs,  and  flowery  fields,  and  calm  repose, 
as  the  lot  of  our  life  :  for  these  pleasant  things 
often  prove  the  most  dangerous  enemies  to 
our  nobler  and  dearer  life. 

Oh  !  how  true  is  tliat  saying,  that  "faith  is 
safe  when  in  danger,  and  in  danger  when 
secure  ;  and  prayer  is  fervent  in  straits,  but 
in  joyful  and  prosperous  circumstances,  if  not 
quite  cold  and  dead,  at  least  lukewarm."  Oh, 
lianpy  straits,  if  they  hinder  the  mind  from 
flowing  forth  upon  earthly  objects,  and  ming- 
ling itself  with  the  mire;  if  they  favor  our 
corresporulence  with  heaven,  and  fjuicken  our 
love  to  celestial  objects,  without  which,  what 
we  call  life,  may  more  properly  deserve  the 
name  of  death  ! 

Ver.  2.  Lord,  hear  my  voice  ;  let  thine  ears  be  at- 
tentive to  the  voice  of  my  snpplications. 

We  see  that  he  was  not  only  in  earnest, 
which  comparatively  few  that  prav  are,  but 
that  his  desires  were  veheirient,  and  kindled  j 
into  a  flame,  which  is  the  case  of  yet  fewer.  ' 
The  smoke  of  the  incenre  will  not  rise  to 
heaven,  unless  it  be  kindled  on  the  al'ar  :  and 
hence  it  is  that  a  great  part  of  our  prayers 
vanish  like  an  empty  sound,  and  are  dissi[)a-  j 
ted  in  the  air.  Nor  is  it  wonderful,  as  we  have  ' 
elsewhere  observed,  that  those  petitions  do  ' 
101  ascend,  which  hardly  go  out.  which  go  not 
To*  ■.h  Irorn  the  depth  of  the  breast,  and  there-  i 


fore  they  rise  not  on  high,  but  are  born  and 
die  upon  the  lips.  How  should  they  live, 
when  they  have  no  principle  of  lile,  neither 
the  constancy  of  faith,  nor  the  love  of  zeal  ? 
And  if  he  who  asks  timorously,  much  more 
he  that  asks  with  cold  indifference,  may  seem 
to  bespeak  a  denial. 

It  is  not  the  much  speaking  and  the  vain 
repetition,  condemned  in  the  gospel,  to  redou- 
ble the  same  words  again  and  again,  provided 
it  be  not  from  want  of  care  and  affection,  but 
if,  on  the  contrary,  it  proceeds  from  the 
vehemence  and  exuberance  of  it.  The  great 
apostle  tells  us,  that  he  besought  the  Lord 
thrice  ;  and  the  Lord  of  the  apostle,  and  our 
Lord,  prayed  in  the  garden  igain  and  again, 
speaking  the  same  words,  lit  that  pours  out 
his  words,  inattentive  to  wnat  he  is  about, 
seems  to  me  to  prav  long,  if  he  utters  but  two 
sentences;  though  u  s  words  be  ever  so  few 
and  well  chosen,  yet  is  he  himself  foolish  and 
verbose.  For  what  can  be  more  foolish  than 
the  empty  noise  even  of  the  best  words,  when 
they  express  nothing  of  the  mind  ?  But  he 
who  continues  long  in  prayer,  and  urges  the 
same  petitions  again  and  again,  bursting  out 
from  the  fervor  of  an  influenced  breast,  he, 
truly,  prays  in  a  vivid  and  solid  manner,  and 
in  a  manner  most  acceptable  to  God  ;  and 
j  what  Fabius  says  of  his  orator,  mav  with 
great  propriety  be  applied  to  him.  Pectus  est, 
quod  discrtum  facit,  el  vis  mentis:  It  is  the 
heart,  and  the  energy  of  the  mind,  that  make 
a  man  truly  eloquent. 

Ifrar /nr.]  The  great  Author  of  nature  and 
of  all  things  does  nothing  in  vain.  He  insti- 
tut(,'d  not  this  law,  and,  if  I  may  so  express  it, 
art  of  praying,  as  a  vain  and  insii,niificant 
thing,  but  endows  it  with  a  wonderful  effica- 
cy for  producing  the  greatest  and  hajipiest 
consequences.  He  would  have  it  to  be  the 
key  by  which  all  liie  treasures  of  heaven 
i  should  be  opened.  He  has  constructed  it  as 
i  a  powerful  machine,  by  which  we  may,  with 
easy  and  present  labor,  remove  from  us  the 
most  dire  and  unhappy  machinations  of  our 
j  enemy,  and  may  with  equal  ease  draw  to 
ourselves  what  is  most  propitious  and  advan- 
tageous. Heaven  and  earth,  and  all  the  ele- 
'  mints,  obey  and  minister  to  the  hands  which 
are  often  lif"ied  up  to  heaven  in  earnest  ])rayer. 
Yea,  all  works,  and  which  is  yet  more  and 
greater,  all  the  words  of  (lod  obey  it.  Well 
known  in  the  sacred  .Scri[itures  are  the  exam- 
ples of  Moses  and  Joshua,  and  that  which 
James  (ch.  v.  17),  particularly  mentions  of 
Elijah,  whom  he  expressly  calls  o^ioinTraflr,?  a 
man  subject  to  like  infirmities  with  ourselves, 
that  he  might  illustrate  the  adtnirable  fore* 
of  prayer,  by  the  common  and  human  weak- 
ness of  the  jierson  by  whom  it  was  offered. 
And  that  (.'hristian  legion  under  Antoninus  is 
well  know  and  justly  celebrated,  which,  for 
ihe  singular  ardor  and  efficacy  of  its  prayers, 
obtained  the  name  of  >ci„irmiiij\,jf,  the  thunder' 
fii'  legion. 

It  18  true,  indeed,  that  our  desires  and  oui 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 


[Ver.  i 


hiMTts  are  open  to  God,  when  our  tongues  are 
entirely  sileiii,  and  iliai  lie  lias  a  paternal  re- 
gard to  all  our  concerns  :  nor  do  vrc  utter  our 
pelilions  to  him,  as  if  he  were  isjnorant  or 
neuligent  of  o')r  necessities  and  desires,  for 
we  well  kiH  \V  that  he  sees  and  hears  every- 
tliing,  ■;.'<' i  <."i  -'1^  111.  It  is  also  true,  that 
his  counsels  are  all  fixed  and  iiiuiioveable. 
But  it  can  by  no  ineairsbe  inferred  iVoin  these 
premises,  that  the  busiuess  of  pra\  er  is  vain 
and  needless.  And  if  any  one  would  represent 
these  things  as  su])erseding  prayer,  surely  he 
deceives  himself,  ami  by  all  his  reasonings 
■would  make  out  notliins,  unless  it  were  to 
convict  himself  of  a  vast  ingratitude  to  the 
Divine  munificence,  and  a  most  shameful  un- 
worlhiness  <jf  so  excellent  a  gift. 

Ought  not  this  intercourse  of  men  with  God 
by  pri'ver  to  be  most  reverently  and  gratefully 
receiv^^'d  and  culiivated  by  all,  and  numbered 
aiiujiis  the  chief  favors  of  the  Divine  nature, 
and  the  chief  dignities  of  the  human  nature  ? 
And  truly  this,  as  much  as  anylhinir  that  can 
be  imagined,  is  a  lamentable  argiunent  of  the 
stujiidity  of  man  in  this  fallen  state,  that  such 
an  honor  is  so  iittle  regarded.  Opportunities 
of  conversing  with  nobles  or  princes  of  the 
earth  are  rare  and  short  ;  and  if  a  man  of 
inferior  station  be  admitted  to  such  a  favor, 
he  glories  in  ii,  as  il'  he  were  raised  to  hea- 
ven ;  though  they  are  but  images  made  of  the 
same  clay  with  himself,  and  only  set  upon  a 
basis  a  little  higher  than  the  rest.  But  the 
liberty  of  daily  and  free  converse  with  the 
King  of  heaven  is  neglected  for  everv  t-ritle, 
and  indeed  is  counted  as  nothing,  tbougli  his 
very  aspect  alone  fills  so  many  myriads  of 
blessed  spirits  above  with  full  and  perpetual 
felicity. 

Again,  is  it  not  most  reasonable  to  acknowl- 
edge, by  this  spiritual  sacrifice  of  jiraver,  his 
infinite  power  and  goodness,  and  that  most 
l)rovidential  care  by  which  he  governs  all 
huiiian  alfairs?  And  when  our  very  being 
and  life  depend  upon  him,  and  all  the  comfort 
and  hapjiiness  of  life,  how  congruous  is  it  to 
exhibit  this  sign  and  token  of  his  holding  us 
Dy  the  hand,  and  of  our  being  borne  up  by 
him  !  Again,  what  sweeter  lenitive  of  all 
those  miseries  with  which  mortal  life  so  con- 
tinually abounds,  can  be  invented,  than  this, 
to  |)our  out  all  '^■ur  care  and  trouble  into  his 
bosom,  as  tha'  of  a  most  faitbi'ul  friend  and 
affectionate  fa'yier  ?  Then  does  the  good  man 
lay  himself  d.uvn  to  sleep  with  sweet  com- 
posure in  the  rijidst  of" waves  and  storms,  when 
lie  has  lulbul  all  the  cares  and  sorrows  of  his 
heart  to  sleep,  by  pouring  out  his  prayer  to 
God.  And  once  more,  how  pleasant  is  it,  that 
these  benefits,  which  are  of  so  great  a  value 
both  on  their  own  account  and  that  of  the 
Divine  benignity  whence  they  come,  should 
be  delivered  into  our  hands,  inarlied,  as  it 
were,  with  this  grateful  inscri])tion,  That  they 
have  been  ohtumcd  by  prayer  ! 

Hear,  O  Lord.]  It  is  certain  that  the  great- 
er part  of  men,  as  they  babble  out  vain,  lan- 


guid, and  inefficacious  prayers,  most  unworthy 
the  ear  of  the  blessed  God,  so  they  seem  io 
some  degree  to  set  a  just  estimate  u;)oii  them, 
neither  hoping  for  any  success  from  them,  noi 
indeed  seeming  to  be  at  all  solicitous  about  it, 
but  committing  them  to  the  wind,  as  vain 
wor(is,  which  in  truth  they  arc.  But  far  be 
it  from  a  wise  and  pious  man,  that  he  should 
so  foolishly  and  coldly  trifle  in  so  serious  an 
affair  :  his  prayer  has  a  certain  tendency  and 
scope,  at  which  he  aims  with  assiduous  and 
repeated  desires,  and  doth  not  only  pray  that 
he  may  pray,  but  that  he  may  obtain  an  an- 
swer :  and  as  he  firmly  believes  that  it  may 
be  obtained,  so  he  firmly,  and  constantly,  and 
eagerly  urges  his  petition,  that  he  may  not 
flatter  himself  with  an  empty  hope.  For  it 
can  not  be  that  any  pious  and  reasonable  de- 
sire should  be  directed  toward  the  throne  of 
God  in  vain,  since  he  has  been  pleased  to 
assume  it  among  his  titles,  that  he  is  a  God 
hearins;  prayer.  And  certainly  though  the 
good  man  does  not  always  obtain  the  very 
thing  that  he  asks,  yet,  pure  and  right  peti- 
tions never  ascend  in  vain  ;  but  he  who  pre- 
sents them,  either  obtains  the  thing  he  asks, 
or  receives,  instead  of  what  is  pleasing,  what 
is  truly  profitable,  and  instead  of  the  things 
that  he  wishes  for,  those  that  are  u])on  the 
whole  the  fittest  and  best,  and  that  in  the 
fittest  and  best  time.  Therefore,  the  vehe- 
mence of  prayer  is  to  be  attempered  with 
patience  and  long  suff  ering  expectation.  We 
often  put  ourselves,  as  il  were,  out  of  breath 
with  the  eagerness  of  speaking,  and  are  pres- 
ently weary,  if  we  do  not  immediately  obtain 
our  request.  Our  prayers  are  often  like  those 
of  the  damsel  who  danced  before  Herod,  1 
vill  lhat  thou  presently  i^ive  me  this  or  that. 
Whereas,  he  that  jjrays  fervently,  urges  this, 
that  God  would  make  haste  to  help  him  ;  but 
in  the  meantime,  as  he  believes,  he  will  not 
make  haste,  nor  will  he  suffer,  if  the  delay 
be  ever  so  long,  that  a  speech  like  that  of  the 
impious  king  of  Israel  should  escape  him. 
This  evil  is  nf  the  Lord,  and  ivhy  should  1 
wait  for  the  Lord  any  longer  ?  2  Kings  vi.  33. 

But  oh,  how  necessary  is  it,  that  souls  wor- 
shipping so  pure  a  God,  should  be  purged 
from  all  the  earthly  dregs  of  impure  aflections! 
Most  true  is  that  oracle  of  the  psalmist.  If  1 
regard  lUKjvily  in  my  heart,  the  Lord  will  not 
hear  my  prayer.  The  hands  must  be  Hashed 
in  innocence,  before  they  can  be  lifted  up  to 
him  with  acceptance.  Draw  near  to  God, 
says  the  Apostle  James,  and  he  will  draw 
near  to  you  ;  but  in  order  to  this,  he  sulyoiiis. 
Cleanse  yovr  hands,  ye  sinners,  and  purify 
I  your  hearts,  ve  hypocrites,  or  ye  double-mind- 
ed, who  are  the  impurest  of  all.  These  things 
we  only  briefly  suggest ;  but  I  beseech  you, 
my  dear  charge,  that  ye  embrace  this  Divine 
study,  that  you  labor  to  obtain  this  sacked  art. 
which  is  the  best  and  only  way  of  being  en- 
riched with  all  the  most  valuable  blessings, 
even  those  of  a  celestial  origin  and  tendency. 
0  think  it  is  nothing  unpleasant,  nothing  low 


Ver.  3.1 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  OXXX. 


37£ 


and  contemptible,  to  which  you  are  now  invit- 
ed :  on  the  contrary,  there  is  nothing  more  de- 
lighil'ul,  nothing  more  sublime,  than  to  medi- 
tate upon  heavenly  objects,  to  converse  with 
God,  and  thence  to  imbibe  a  contempt  of  this 
low  and  transitory  world,  to  be  raised  above 
all  perishing  enjoyments,  and  to  taste  the 
preiibdtious  of  that  celestial  life  itself. 

But  how  accurately  soever  the  precepts  of 
this  Divme  oratory  may  be  delivered,  none 
will  etfectually  receive  them,  unless  ihey  are 
taught  the  skill  by  God  himself.  We  must 
pray  that  we  may  be  able  to  pray,  and  draw 
as  it  were  from  that  superior  academy  that 
.Siculiy  of  pure  and  pious  speech  which  flies 
as  with  a  swift,  ready,  and  natural  motion  to 
rieaven  whence  it  came,  and  brings  down 
with  it  the  most  precious  gifts  into  the  bosom 
of  the  person  that  utters  it.  And  by  the  way, 
it  is  a  most  certain  truth,  that  the  greatest 
blessings  are  much  more  easily  obtained  from 
the  great  God,  who  is  so  munificent  in  his 
gifts,  than  others  of  a  meaner  nature  ;  so  that 
it  were  an  argument  of  a  low  and  abject 
mind,  not  to  ask  something  noble  and  excel- 
lent. Covet  eai-ncslly  the  best  gifts,  in  this 
sense.  If  we  ask  only  things  of  a  low  and 
trifling  nature,  unworthy  such  a  giver,  he  may 
answer  as  a  prince  did,  "  These  are  not  royal 
gifts,"  oi  liairiXiKou  to  iCfov:  but  if  We  ask  ihose 
things  that  are  most  precious  and  valuable, 
grace  and  glory,  there  will  be  no  room  to  fear 
that  denial,  "ok  avOfjunniiov  to  yfijijun^  "  It  is  not  fit 
for  a  man  to  receive  it."  Jf  youicho  art  evil 
know  hoiv  to  ^ive  good  gifts  to  your  cliililren, 
how  much  more  your  heoveiily  Father!  Sure- 
ly, he  is  goodness  itself,  and  he  gives  only 
what  is  good  ;  and  the  better  those  things  are 
that  we  ask,  the  more  freely  and  cheerfully 
does  he  bestow  them.  And  you  know  Luke, 
repeating  the  same  speech,  expresses  it  by 
saying,  He  shall  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them 
'hat  ask  it ;  than  which,  nothing  more  noble 
can  be  either  desired  or  bestowed. 
Ver.  3.  If  lliOii,  Lord,  shoulclst  mark  iniquities,  O 
Lord,  who  shall  stand  .' 

Among  all  the  virtues  which  are  necessary 
to  offer  up  our  prayers  with  acceptance,  none 
a.scend  with  greater  velocity,  and  rise  higher, 
than  that  very  humility  which  causes  them, 
as  it  were,  to  descend  the  deepest  of  all  :  nor 
is  tlii're  any  iii'ire  indubitable  ari;iimcnt  of 
humility,  than  a  conscience  which  groans  un- 
der the  burden  of  its  own  sin  and  guilt  amid 
all  the  abyss  of  calamities,  crying  especially 
from  this  depth.  And  thus  we  see  the 
psalmist,  while  he  involves  all  other  evils, 
how  great  soever  they  might  be,  under  one 
C(jnimon  title,  fixed  ui)on  this,  to  expatiate 
upon  it  at  large.  IflhouJ.ord,  should  si  mark 
ini'/iiiites,  &c.  Thus,  if  any  one  desires  to 
mount  more  readily  and  more  favorably  from 
the  depth  of  calamity,  let  him  cry  frotti  this 
depth  of  prcjfouiid  humility,  and  plead  a  peni- 
tent sense  of  sill.  I'or  though  of  all  itnagina- 
ble  depths,  that  of  sin  be  the  most  remote 
from  the  most  high  and  most  holy  God,  yet. 


the  depths  of  the  humLi€  soul,  depressed  uti 
der  the  weight  of  sin,  is  nearest  of  all  to  the 
deep  bowels  of  Divine  mercy  :  so  that  th« 
words  of  the  psalmist  may  not  improperly  be 
accommodated  to  this,  though  in  a  sense 
something  different  from  that  which  in  their 
connexion  they  bear.  Deep  calls  unto  deep, 
and  by  an  harmonious  kind  of  antiphony,  if  I 
may  be  allowed  the  expression,  they  do  most 
musically  answer  to  ea:h  other. 

One  might  have  been  ready,  perhaps,  to 
imagine,  from  the  vehemence  with  which  he 
begins  his  address,  and  from  his  groanings  as 
it  were  so  thick  and  so  short,  that  he  was  a 
somewhat  bold  petitioner,  and  that  he  had 
some  confidence  in  himself,  seeing  that  he 
presumed  to  knock  so  often  and  so  loud  at 
the  door  of  divine  mercy.  But  what  he  here 
adds  plainly  shows  that  this  was  far  from  be- 
ing the  case:  "Hear  me,  0,  Lord,  hear  me: 
and  I  urge  the  request  because  necessity 
presses  urgently  upon  me.  Not  that  I  ^m, 
or  judge  tnyself  to  "^e  one  who  can  merit 
thine  assistance,  but  that  I  stand  in  such  need 
of  it,  that  if  it  be  not  granted  me,  I  must 
perish.  So  far  am  I  from  being  or  appearing 
to  myself  worthy  of  thy  help,  that  behold  I 
am  overwhelmed  with  sin  more  than  with 
sorrows.  U  is  free  mercy  that  I  invoke,  and 
I  beseech  thee,  that  in  order  to  thy  hearing 
the  voice  of  my  prayer,  thou  wouidst  not 
hearken  to  the  cry  of  my  sins.  Wash  away 
the  one,  that  thou  mayst  graciously  smile 
upon  the  other.  For,  if  thou,  Lord,  shouldst 
mark  iniquity,  who  shall  stand  ?  Intimating 
that  if  he  were  drawn  out  of  the  other 
depths,  yet  if  his  sins  continued  unremitted, 
he  could  find  no  j)lace  on  which  lo  stand ; 
yea,  if  it  were  possible  for  him  in  that  case 
to  flee  away  and  hide  himself,  jet  he  would 
rather  plunge  himself  into  those  depths 
again,  and  would  rather  be  buried  and  lost  in 
flotxls  of  the  greatest  calamities,  than  meet 
the  more  dreailful  flame  of  the  divine  anger 
and  indign.itioii. 

But  this  humble  acknowledgment  of  his 
own  un worthiness  and  poll  .tion,  is  so  far 
from  being  inconsistent  with  the  pious  confi- 
dence of  |)rayer,  that  it  is  not  only  congruous, 
but  even  congenial  to  it,  and  inseparable 
from  it,  so  as  to  be  most  agreeable  to  that 
great  King  wlujin  it  addresses.  Humility 
and  contrition  of  heart  are  often  thought  by 
men  to  be  the  iiitirk  of  a  low  and  abject  mind, 
and  as  such  are  often  despised  by  them;  but 
nothing  is  more  honorable  in  the  sight  of  God. 
"  He,"  says  Augustine,*  "  will  bow  down 
his  ear,  if  thou  dost  not  lift  up  thy  neck." 
There  is  certainly  no  more  elTicacious  meth- 
od of  sui)[)licating  and  obtaining'  grace,  than 
to  do  it,  if  I  may  so  speak,  suh  forma  paupe- 
ris,  confessing  and  j)leading  our  ])overty. 
He  finds  the  most  easy  access  in  the  court 
of  heaven,  who  meets  the  most  frequent  re- 
|)ulses  on  earth.  Nay,  if  I  may  so  express 
myself,  the  heavenly  court  sits  and  resides  in 

•  Incliiiat  aurem  Deus.  si  tu  non  eriglE  cervicem. 


J76 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 


IVer.  d. 


him.  The  two  chief  temples  and  jiiilaces 
ot  theijreat  Kinij,  are  tlial  ->;i(T,i,  m:i/,  thrice  holy 
jilace  in  the  ihird  heaven  anil  the  liunible 
and  contrite,  heart  upon  earih.  The  best 
maimer  of  p~r'aYin<i,  therefore,  is  that  which 
is  made  up  of  faith,  fear,  and  liumility.  By 
the  ecjual  liluaiion  of  these  wiiirrs,  the  soul 
mounts  on  hi^li,  while  that  of  fear  does  not 
sink  100  low,  nor  that  ol'  ctmfidence  ri?e  too 
high.*  By  these,  we  are  daily  and  early  to 
soar  to  God;  and  care  must  be  taken  that 
these  wings  of  the  soul  be  not  dragged  down 
by  excess,  nor  scorched  by  lust,  nor  clogged 
and  glued  together,  as  it  were,  by  covetous- 
ness,  or  any  other  terrene  and  viscid  affec- 
lion.  But  let  us  now  a  little  more  particu- 
larly see  what  this  confession  of  the  prophet 

WIS. 

If  thou.  Lord,  fhouldsl  mark  inu/uity,  O 
Ijord ,  ivho  skull  stand  ?  An  uninstructed  and 
incautious  reader  might  perha]is  iriiaffiiie 
ih»t  the  psalmist  was  here  seeking-  for  ref- 
uge in  a  crowd,  and  desirous  of  sheltering 
himself  under  the  common  lot  of  human  na- 
ture ;  at  least,  that  he  would  endeavor  to 
find  some  low  excuse  for  himself,  in  the  men- 
tion of  its  universal  degeneracy.  But  the  de- 
sign of  the  sacred  writer  is  far  different  from 
this.  He  confesses  that  whatever  he,  or  any 
other  person,  on  a  transient  and  inattentive 
glance,  may  imarrine  of  his  innocence,  yet, 
when  the  eye  of  the  mind  is  directed  inward 
in  a  serious  and  fixed  manner,  then  he  sees 
the  sum  and  bulk  of  his  sins  to  be  so  im- 
mensely great  that  he  is  even  struck  into  aston- 
ishment by  it  :  so  that  he  finds  himself  beset, 
as  it  were,  on  every  side  with  arnxed  troops, 
which  cut  oU'  all  ))ossibilitv  of  escape,  other- 
wise than  by  hying  to  divine  mercy  and  to 
the  freedom  of  pardoning  grace.  He  per- 
ceives liimself  unable  to  bear  the  examina- 
tion of  an  awakened  conscience,  exercising 
itself  in  impartial  self-reflection  :  and  argu- 
ing thence,  how  nmch  less  he  would  be 
able  to  endure  the  penetrating  eve  and  strict 
scrutiny  of  the  divine  Justice,  he  cries  out, 
ifl  horror  and  ..embling,  under  an  apprehen- 
sion of  it.  If  thou,  Lord,  shovldst  mark  in- 
iquities, &c.  He  sees  himself  overwhelmed 
with  crimes,  held  at  bay,  as  it  were,  by  his 
sins  on  every  side,  which  roar  around  him 
like  so  many  savage  creatures  just  ready  to 
devour  him.  And  he  that  does  not  see  this 
to  be  his  own  case,  is  either  almost  blind,  or 
lives  abroad,  and  never  descends  into  his  own 
breast.  Gross  oll'ences  alone  strike  the  eve 
of  our  fellow-creatures:  but  when  we  seri- 
ously consider  that  we  have  to  do  with  an 
All-seeing  Judge,  who  looks  at  once  through 
every  covering,  and  sees  4he  most  secret  re- 
cesses of  our  hearts,  who  considers  not  only 
what  may  be  concealed  from  men,  but  even 
what  is  concealed  from  ourselves,  so  as  most 
c. early  to  discover  every  the  least  stain  and 
speck  of  our  inmost  soul,  and  whose  infinite 

*  Oratio  timida  ca-liim  non  attin-jit :  temeraria  re- 
silit,  ei  via  sua  Irangitor^BtRNARD. 


holiness  must  also  abhor  it;  is  it  possible 
that  any  one  should  be  so  infaiuated  as,  in 
such  a  view,  still  to  reiain  a  false  and  foolish 
conceit  of  his  own  innocence  ?  it  can  not  be 
doubled  that  ihey  who  daily  and  accurately 
survey  themselves  and  their  own  hearts, 
though  they  may  indeed  escape  many  of 
those  evils  which  the  generaliiy  ot'  mankind, 
who  live  as  it  were  by  chance,  fall  inio,  yet, 
in  consequence  of  that  very  care  and  study, 
see  so  much  the  more  clearly  their  t)wn  im- 
purity, and  contract  a  greater  abhorrence  of 
themselves,  and  a  more  reverential  dread  of 
the  divine  judgments.  And  it  is  certain  that 
the  holier  any  one  is,  the  viler  will  he  be  in 
his  own  eyes,  and  I  may  also  add,  the  viler 
he  is  in  his  own  eyes,  the  more  dear,  pre- 
ci(jus,  and  honorable,  will  he  be  in  the  sight 
of  God.  But  where  is  the  heart,  yea,  I  may 
say,  where  is  the  forehead  of  the  generality 
of  mankind,  who  boast  of  it  as  if  it  were 
some  great  mauer  to  be  free  from  ibe  infamy 
of  ihe  most  atrocious  crimes?  Have  they 
not  continually  the  reward  of  this  their  egre- 
gious virtue  ?  "I  have  not  committed  mur- 
der and  robbery — You  are  not  gibbeted  for  the 
food  of  crows  and  ravens."*  But  they  who 
bring  the  whole  of  their  conduct,  therr  deeds 
and  their  words,  the  glances  of  iheir  eye, 
and  all  the  inward  workings  of  their  afi'ec- 
tions,  and  examine  them  by  the  pure  and 
strait  rule  of  the  divine  law,  so  as  to  per- 
ceive how  many  and  how  great  errors  attend 
every  most  cauiious  day  ;  and  ihey  who  feel 
how  wavering  and  weak  their  faith  is,  how 
lukewarm  at  least,  if  not  cold,  their  piety 
and  charity,  how  ardent  their  love  of  this 
world  slill  conlinues.  how  unlamed  the  flesh, 
how  unguarded  ihe  senses,  how  unbridled 
the  afl'ections,  how  attentive  their  hearts  to 
trifles,  while  in  prayer  so  light  and  so  wan- 
dering ;  they,  I  say,  who  perceive  and  reflect 
on  this,  with  what  poignant  grief,  wiih  what 
overwhelming  shame  must  they  be  seized, 
and  how  earnestly  and  how  justly  will  they 
cry  out.  If  thov,  Lord,  shouldst  mark  iniqui- 
ty, who  could  stand.  ? 

If  thou  shouldst  mark.']    If  thou  shouldst 
inquire  and  scrutinize,  and  then  shouldst  re- 
,  tain  and  impute  (for  the  Hebrew  word  imports 
■  both) :  if  thou  shouldst  inquire,  thou  wouldst 
,  find  something  of  iniijuity  in  the  most  righte- 
ous of  mankind  ;  and  when  thou  hast  found 
\  it,  if  thou  shouldst  reiain  it,  and  call  him  tr. 
an  account  for  ii,  he  could  by  no  means  tree 
himself  of  the  charge,  or  expiate  the  crime. 
Inquiring,  thou  wouhlst  easily  find  iniquity; 
but  he  by  the  most  diligent  inquiry  will  be 
able  to  discover  no  ransom,  and  therefore 
will  be  unable  to  stand,  will  have  no  place 
on  which  to  set  his  foot,  but  will  fall  by  ihe 
irresistible  judgments  of  thy  law,  and  the 
sentence  of  thy  jusiice. 

There  have  been  great  disputes  one  way 
and  another,  about  the  merit  of  good  works  ; 
but  I  truly  think  they  who  have  laboriously 

•  Furtum  non  feci — Non  pascis  in  crucc  corves. 


Ver.  4  ] 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 


377 


engaged  in  them,  have  been  very  idly,  though 
very  eagerly  employed  abui.t  nothing,  since 
the  nioru  sober  of  the  schoolmen  themselves 
icknowledge  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as 
meriting  from  the  blessed  God,  in  the  human, 
or  to  speak  more  accurately,  in  any  created 
nature  whatsoever :  nay,  so  far  from  any 
possibility  of  merit,  there  can  be  no  room  for 
reward  any  otherwise  than  of  the  sovereign 
pleasure  and  gracious  kindness  of  God  ;  and 
the  more  ancient  writers,  when  they  use  the 
word  merit,  mean  nothing  by  it  but  a  certain 
correlate  to  that  reward  which  God  both 
promises  and  bestows  of  mere  grace  and  be- 
nignity. Otherwise,  in  order  to  constitute 
what  is  properly  called  merit,  many  things 
must  concur,  which  no  man  in  his  senses 
will  presume  to  attribute  to  human  works, 
though  ever  so  excellent  ;  particularly  that 
the  thing  done  must  not  previously  be  mat- 
ter of  debt,  and  that  it  be  entire,  or  our  own 
act,  unassisted  by  foreign  aid  ;  it  must  also 
be  perfectly  good,  and  it  must  bear  an  ade- 
quate proportion  to  the  reward  claimed  in 
consequence  of  it.  If  all  these  things  do 
not  concur,  the  act  can  not  possibly  amount 
to  merit.  Whereas  I  think  no  one  will  ven- 
ture to  assert  that  any  one  of  these  can 
take  place  in  any  human  action  whatever. 
But  why  should  I  enlarge  here,  when  one 
single  circumstance  overthrows  all  those  ti- 
tles: the  most  righteous  of  mankind  would 
not  be  able  to  stand,  if  his  works  were 
weighed  in  the  balance  of  strict  justice  ;  how 
much  less  then  could  they  deserve  that  im- 
mense glory  which  is  now  in  question  !  Nor 
is  this  to  be  denied  only  concerning  the  unbe- 
liever and  the  sinner,  but  concerning  the 
righteous  and  pious  believer,  who  is  not  only 
free  from  all  theguilt  of  his  former  impenitence 
and  rebellion,  but  endowed  with  the  gift  of 
the  Spirit.  The  interrogation  here  expresses 
the  most  vehement  negation,  and  signifies 
that  no  mortal,  in  whatever  degree  he  is 
placed,  if  he  be  called  to  the  strict  examina- 
tion of  Divine  justice,  without  daily  and  re- 
peated forgiveness,  couKl  be  able  to' keep  his 
standing  and  much  less  could  he  arise  to  that 
glorious  heii{ht.  "That  meri*."  says  Ber- 
nard, "on  which  my  hope  relies,  corisisis  in 
these  three  things  ;  the  love  of  adoption,  the 
truth  ot  the  promise,  and  the  nower  of  its 
perf(jrmance."*  This  is  the  threefold  cord 
which  can  not  be  broken. 

Ver.  4.  hat  there  is  forgiveness  with  thee,  that  thou 
mayest  be  fearcu. 

This  is  the  genuine  method  of  Divine 
p-ace:  it  first  demands  a  mind  void  of  all 
confidence  in  itself,  that  so  it  may  be  filled 
W7V..1  a  pure  and  entire  trust  in  God.  For 
ihoiigb  mat  blind  self-confidence  whicn  is  so 
natural  to  us,  be  flatulent  and  emptv,  yet 
while  it  possesses  the  mind,  it  is  as  it  were 

•  Meritiim,  cui  mnitiliir  spes  mca,  tribiis  hisr;e  cnn- 
Btat,  charilatc  adopt ionis,  veritale  promissioni.s,  et 
potcstate,  rt'dtlilioiiis. 

48 


blown  up  by  it  ;  and  that  swelling  breaks  off 
everything  more  solid,  and  prevents  its  ac- 
cess even  when  it  seems  to  surround  us  on 
every  side.  Yea,  it  seems  that  the  riches 
and  magnificence  of  Divine  grace  can  not 
with  so  much  decency  communicate  itself, 
j  when  it  is,  as  it  were,  straitened  by  the  re- 
j  ceiver  ;  for  since  it  is  so  great  as  to  be  able 
to  fill  everything,  it  requires  a  free  and  am- 
j  pie  space  in  which  to  dilate  itself.  He  who 
j  in  the  first  original  of  the  new-born  world 
brought  all  things  out  ol'  nothing  acts  like 
himself  in  the  regeneration  and  restoration 
of  mankind  to  holiness.  The  Holy  Spirit 
finds  nothing  but  Tohu  va  Boliu,  nothing  but 
what  is  without  form  and  void  ;  and  whoev- 
er of  mankind  perceives  and  acknowledges 
this  to  be  his  case,  may  be  assured  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  already  begins  to  move  upon 
j  him  to  impregnate  the  face  of  the  abyss  ;  ano 
then  it  is  said  concerning  them.  Let  there  be 
liiiht,  and  thert  ts  lii(ht,  even  that  light  by 
which  they  see  themselves  unlormed  and 
dark,  and  destitute  of  everything  that  is  good. 
It  is  a  great  sign  of  a  soul  beginning  to 
emerge  from  its  misery,  to  give  up  every 
I  hope  of  emerging  Irom  it,  except  tliat  one 
which  arises  from  free  mercy  alone.  And  in 
this  sense,  it  may  truly  be  said,  as  it  is  by  the 
poet, 

Una  salu.1  misfris  nullam  sperare  ■ttlutem  : 
"  The  wrctclied  find  no  safety  but  di'spair — " 

i.  e.,  in  themselves,  in  their  own  righteous- 
ness or  innocence,  their  own  industry  in  ful- 
filling the  law,  or  any  expiation  they  can 
make  (or  the  breach  of  it.  And  what  the 
apostle  says  of  his  own  danger,  inav,  properly 
enough,  be  apj)lied  to  a  confession  of  the 
soul,  pressed  under  the  burden  ol"  its  own 
guilt.  We  had  received  the  sentence  of  death 
in  ourselves,  that  we  mt<>ht  not  trust  in  our' 
selves,  but  in  God  who  raises  the  dead.  2  Cor. 
i.  9.  For  the  exclamation  before  us  bears  a  re- 
markable resemblance  to  that  expression.  If 
thou.  Lord,  should st  mark  inii/uit  y,  O  Lord,  ivho 
could  stand?  But  there  is  forgiveness  with 
thee,  that  thou  mayest  be  feared.  He  who  from 
justice  found  not  any  ground  upon  which  he 
might  stand,  finds  in  mercy  a  place  frorn 
which  he  may  rise  again.  And  this  is  the 
remedy  of  all  our  grief  and  distress,  and  in 
this  sense  we  must  be  sick  that  we  may  re- 
cover, and  must  die  that  we  may  live.  Grace 
exerts  its  power,  where  nature  and  art,  and 
all  the  excellency  and  streiigtii  of  human  na- 
ture, fail  ;  nor  does  any  soul  celebrate  the  Di- 
vine benignity  more  signally  than  those  who 
are  snatched  as  it  were  out  of  the  (lames 
when  they  are  beginning  to  seize  them,  and 
being  rescued  from  the  very  jaws  of  he.l,  re- 
turn to  life  again,  and  breathe  in  the  land  of 
the  living. 

That  trite  distinction  of  sin  into  mortal  and 
venial,  which  is  so  common  among  the 
schoolmen,  is  not  only  vain  and  destitute  of 
all  support  from  the  word  of  God,  but  is  in- 
deed very  faulty,  and  far  from  being  itself 


378 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 


IVer.  4 


venial,  veil  deserves  to  be  explodeil  as  mor- 
tal, lor  iliat  nialigiiaiu  influciico  wliicli  ii  has 
4  upon  the  morals  of  men.  It'  the  most  o])en 
duiisjer  oi"  the  Divine  displeasure  and  of  eter- 
nal death,  can  not  hinder  the  bold  race  of  men 
from  rushing  on  headlonsf  to  every  crime,* 
and  breakinit  all  the  harriers  of  duty  which 
God  ha^  prescribed  them,  will  it  not  add 
grea".  I;  :enaousness  to  all  the  crowd  and  tu- 
mult (it  neadstroni;  desires,  when  some  sins 
are  saul  to  be  by  their  own  nature,  and  in  the 
whole  kind  of  thei:?,  free  f'om  the  condem- 
ning; sentence  ol'  the  Divine  law  ?  Bui  what 
I  here  oppose,  is  this;  give  me  the  holiest 
man  upon  earth,  the  man  who  above  all  others 
stands  at  the  remotest  distance,  both  in  the 
afiections  of  his  mind  and  in  the  conduct  of 
his  life,  from  those  sins  which  they  acknowl- 
edge as  mortal,  will  he  not  deeply  feel  his 
need  of  daily  forgiveness,  from  t.ie  multiplied 
pollutions  of  his  daily  infirmities  ?  He  trulv 
accounts  no  sin  little,  which  is  conuuitted 
against  the  great  and  ever-blessed  God,  nor 
any  pardon  little,  which  he  knows  to  proceed 
from  his  infinite  grace.  Nor  will  he  promise 
himself  the  pardon  of  the  least  fault  which 
he  indulges:  nor  will  he  despair  of  obtamiiig 
a  pardon  of  the  greatest  for  which  he  is 
truly  penitent.  And  this  is  the  law  of  grace. 
The  poet  said  with  a  great  deal  of  justice, 
"  That  no  sinner  is  absolved  by  himself,"  be- 
cause he  is  as  it  were  turned  informer  against 
himself.f  Yet,  in  another  sense,  the  sinner 
is  absolved  by  that  very  self  accusation,  and 
sorrowing  for  his  sius,  is  freed  from  the  guilt 
of  them.  For  it  is  not  by  any  means  to  be 
conceived  that  any  one  can  return  into  favor 
with  God,  unless  he  return  to  God  ;  nor  that 
any  one  can  return  to  God,  unless  he  re- 
nounce every  sin:  which  if  he  does,  they  are 
all  entirely  forgiven,  and  those  which  he  ea- 
gerly desires  lo  cast  behind  his  back,  shall 
never  rise  up  to  condemn  him  to  his  face,  be- 
fore the  tribunal  of  the  Divine  justice.  This 
sentiment  runs  throuirh  all  the  evangelical 
discourses  of  the  prophets,  by  which,  as  so 
many  heralds,  they  call  a  rebellious  people 
to  return  to  the  allegiance  of  God,  their  su- 
preme Iving:  Rfturn,  i/e  backsliding  clitldren, 
and  I  ii'itl  heal  your  bnckslidin^s.  Yea,  the 
Very  Fountain  of  Grace,  the  Lord  of  the 
prophets,  who  is  himself  the  great  author  and 
the  sum  of  the  gosjjel  doctrine,  as  soon  as 
ever  he  came  forth  to  i)ublish  this  grace,  said, 
Bejjciit ,  for  thr  kin>idoin  of  heaven  is  at  hand. 
Nor  can  any  mind  that  is  not  fallen  into  utter 
madness  and  complete  distraction,  dream  of 
k  pardon,  how  ample  and  glorious  soever,  to 
be  imparted  to  a  sinner  who  will  not  repent 
or  return.  Nor  indeed  can  it  be  so  much  as 
wished.  For  how  unworthy  would  it  be  of 
the  Divine  Majesty  and  Wisdom,  to  throw 
away  such  precious  jrraces  on  those  who  so 
obstinately  despise  them  !    But  there  is  for- 

•  Audax  omnia  porpeli 

Opns  hnmana,  riiit  per  vetitum  nefas. — Horace. 

♦  He  indice  nemo  nocens  absrlvitur. 


givericss  with  thee — which  is  added  with  the 
utmost  propriety  :  with  him  there  is  a  treas- 
ure of  mercy  laid  u[),  to  be  imparted  most 
freely  and  richly  to  every  humble  sinner  f.hat 
a])plies  lo  him  for  it.  Nor  is  the  dispensmg 
oi'irrace  in  this  way  at  all  inconsistent  with  th« 
richness  and  I'reeness  of  ii,  since  the  greatest 
sins,  the  most  aggravated  crimes,  are  abiso- 
lutely  Ibrgiven,  without  any  [)enalty  or  tina 
whatsoever  imposed  upon  the  ofl'ender,  yet, 
on  this  most  reasonable  and  hajipy  coiulition, 
that  they  who  are  thus  received  into  the  Di- 
vine favor  should  express  their  grateful  ac- 
knowledgments for  it,  by  love,  obedience, 
and  sanctity  of  life.  Neither  is  this  forgive- 
ness the  less  free  and  gracious,  becauj^e  Jesua 
Christ,  as  our  surety  and  redeemer,  has  paid 
the  price  of  it,  having  been  appointed  for  and 
destined  to  this  great  M.i  arduous  work  by 
the  Father.  For  what  does  that  great  Fa- 
ther ol'  mercies  herein,  but,  in  order  io  our 
complete  discharge,  by  one  certain,  and  ever- 
to-be-admired  way,  satisfy  himself  of  his  own, 
by  fasteijing  his  only  begotten  Son  to  the 
cross?  The  repository  of  this  treasure  is 
opened,  the  whole  i)rice  is  poured  out  at 
once,  that  great  price  of  redemption,  more 
precious  than  all  the  treasures,  than  all  the 
mines  of  gold  in  the  world,  or  even  the 
whole  world  itself.  But  they  who  anxiously 
debate  the  point,  whether  God  could  simply 
and  absolutely  pardon  sin  without  any  price, 
do  but  trifle  ;  for  whatever  may  be  supposed 
concerning  that,  who  is  there  that  will  deny 
that  this  way  of  the  salvation  of  men  which 
(lod  has  chosen,  is  so  full  of  stupendous  mys- 
tery, and  so  illustrious,  il'I  may  so  speak,  for 
that  lri?ic  and  to  us  most  benign  asjuct  of 
wisdom,  justice,  and  mercy,  that  nothing  can 
be  thought  of  more  worthy  the  Divine  Maj- 
esty, nothing  sweeter,  nothing  more  munifi- 
cent with  respect  to  unworthy  man  ?  So  that, 
it  will  appear,  Athanasius  speaks  very  pru- 
dently when  he  says,  "  We  ought  not  in  this 
matter  so  much  to  consider  the  absolute  pow- 
er of  God,  as  what  is  most  advantageous  to 
man,  and  what  most  worthy  of  the  Divine 
Being."* 

It  was  fit  that  our  wise  Creator  should 
give  us  a  law,  and  that  law  was  both  useful 
and  pleasant  to  those  who  would  carefully 
observe  it ;  but  when  once  violated,  there 
would  necessarily  arise  a  fatal  enmity  be- 
tween the  law  and  the  transgressors  ol'  it,  an 
enmity  which  would  continually  become  pro- 
gressive, and  gather  new  strength  in  the  i)rog- 
ress.  But  as  for  our  obstinacy,  what  is  it 
more  than  irpd?  ^vrfia  >.aKTt^'iv,  to  kick  ncainsJ 
the  prkks?  The  law  is  inviolably  safe  in  its 
own  sanctity,  dignity,  and  immortality  ;  bu: 
we,  by  strivinir  against  it,  what  do  we  gain 
but  iniquity,  disgrace,  and  death?  So  that 
if  there  were  no  umpire  to  interpose,  there 
would  be  no  hope,  but  that  the  whole  hvman 

•  OvK  omtiif  Set  tv  TOVToj  ripayfiari  rd  IittXhis  roi  Otai 
t^vvarov  \nyiC,f:i70ai^  to  rf/ii  avOpwKots  XvatreXea  pay  iroi 
TTuru  y£  hjius  OeuTrpcTiiarcpoy, 


Ver.  4.] 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 


379 


kind  shoiilJ  perish.  But  that  blessed  and  ef- 
ficacious Intercessor  came  from  on  high  ;  and 
certainly  he  was  himself  a  Divine  person, 
who  could  C(;mpose  such  a  controversy,  and 
who  joining-,  by  an  indissoluble  union,  his  in- 
finitely better  with  our  miserable  and  mortal 
nature,  did  so,  by  a  most  wonderful  method, 
render  to  the  law  all  its  accuracy  of  obedi- 
eHce,  and  to  us,  though  guilty,  impunity. 
And  liaviu^  thus  made  peace,  that  concord 
might  afterward  continue  and  prevail,  he  an- 
imates all  who  partake  of  this  blessed  peace, 
by  his  own  new,  pure,  and  Divine  Spirit,  that 
ihev  might  not  only  be  engaged  sincerely  to 
endeavor  to  observe  diligently  the  sacred  pre- 
cepts of  the  law,  but  might  love  them,  and 
cordially  embrace  them.  At  the  same  time, 
he  hatli  tempered  the  severity  of  the  law 
toward  all  those  that  are  received  into  favor, 
that  their  diligent,  pious,  and  affectionate  ob- 
servance of  the  law,  though  not  entirely  com- 
plete, should,  by  our  indulgent  Father,  be 
most  graciously  accepted,  even  as  if  it  were 
perfect.  Aim]  so  the  honor  of  the  Divine 
Legislator  is  secure  among  men,  and  his 
peace  descends  upon  them  ;  and  tiiis  is  what 
our  text  observes.  There  is  forgiveness  with 
thee,  thai  thou  mai/est  he  feared. 

It  is  well  known,  that  the  fear  of  God  is 
commonly  used  in  Scripture  to  signify,  not 
only  the  whole  of  his  worship,  but  all  pious 
affections  whatsoever,  and  C(;nsequently  the  j 
whole  of  true  religion.  And  some  translate  ' 
the  expression  here,  that  thou  inayesl  be  rtv- 
erent/i/  worshipped  ;  and  it  is  thus  used  with 
the  greatest  propriety.  I  speak  of  tiiat  fear 
whicli  is  s(j  far  from  denoting  the  servile,  lios- 
tile  dread  and  terror  which  somr.  miirht  think 
of,  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  entirely  excludes 

t,  bein<r  projjerly  a  reverence  tempered  with  j 
love.  Yet  I  do  not  think  that  we  are  to  ex- 
clude all  dread  of  punishment  and  vindictive 
justice  under  the  name  of  a  servile  and  disin- 
genuous fear ;  nay,  I  apprehend  such  a  fear 
to  be  very  necessary  even  to  those  who  most 
ardently  love,  as  long  as  they  live  in  the  flesh, 
in  order  to  tame  and  rein  in  the  pctulancy  of 
it ;  yea,  love  itself  places  fear  as  a  kind  of  bit 
and  bridle  to  the  flesh.  Psalm  cxix.  128,  My 
flesh  treinhle.s  for  fear  of  thee,  and  I  am 
afraid  of  thi/  jnd<rmnnls.  Heb.  xii.  ult.,  Let 
us  serve  (iod  with  rccerencc  and  godly  fear, 
for  our  God  is  a  consuming  fire.  This  is  the 
fear  whicli  is  caviled  Uut  heninning  of  wisdom, 
and  which  is  marked  with  other  very  high 
titles  of  honor  in  the  sacred  Scriptures  ;  with- 
out which,  we  can  neither  conceive  the  be- 
ginning of  divine  worship  and  true  piety,  nor 
pursue  the  impr(jvement  of  it. 

As  this  holy  and  pure  fear  is  the  compen- 
iliu»i  and  HUinwriary  of  religion,  so  this  par- 
don and  I'ree-  remission  of  sins  is  the  great 
foundation  and  support  of  that  fear  and  reli- 
gion. As  the  whole  human  race  is  defiled 
with  sin,  the  despair  of  pardon  would  entire- 

y  drive  us  away  from  God,  and  precluding 


all  ways  of  returning,  would  plunge  the  offen« 
der  headlong  into  eternal  banishment  and 
eternal  hatred. 

With  thee  is  forgiveness,  that  thou  rnnyst 
he  feared  ;  that  men  may  not  dread  thee  and 
flee  thee  as  an  inexorable  judge  and  enemy, 
but  may  reverence,  love,  and  serve  thee,  as  a 
mild  and  gracious  Lord,  as  a  most  merciful 
and  loving  father.  And  this  is  that  joyful 
message  of  the  gospel,  to  which  sinners  run, 
as  soon  as  they  hear  and  understand  it,  pros- 
trating themselves  witn  all  humility  at  the 
feet  of  so  mild  a  Lord  and  so  gracious  a  king. 
"  For  no  one,"  as  Ambrose  says,  "  will  think 
of  repenting,  but  he  who  hopes  for  indul- 
gence."* This  merciful  God  calls  back  to 
his  favor,  those  who  are  as  it  were  flying 
from  it,  saying,  Return,  ye  apostates  and  reb- 
els, and  I  xi'ill  pardon  and  heal  your  backsli- 
dinffs.  And  they,  as  if  their  bowels  sounded 
to  the  unison  note  of  mercy,  with  reciprocal 
penitence  and  love,  answer.  Behold  we  come 
unto  thee,  for  thou  art  Jrhovah  our  God. 
And  this  is  what  the  great  messenger  and 
author  of  our  salvation  preached  and  set 
forth:  Repent,  says  he,  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  at  hand.  You  are  not  now  pursued 
by  wrath  and  vengeance,  threatening  utterly 
to  extirpate  you  and  cut  you  off,  but  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  the  dispensation  of  love,  mer- 
cy, and  grace,  opens  its  bosom  to  eiribrace 
you,  and  freely  offers  you  the  full  pardon  of 
all  your  former  obstinacy  and  rebellion.  Be- 
hold the  compassionate  father  meeting  that 
prodi-jal  son  who  had  so  basely  run  from  him, 
while  yet  afar  off  on  his  return,  ami,  instead 
of  chiding  and  upbraiding  him,  burying  not 
only  all  his  sins,  but  even  his  very  confession, 
as  in  a  deluLfe  of  love,  amidst  the  teiideres' 
embraces,  kisses,  and  tears.  Make  inn  to  hear 
says  David,  the  voice  of  joy  and  gladness,  that 
the  hones  which  thou  hast  hroken  may  rejoice. 
By  that  lamentable  fall,  he  had  as  it  were 
dashed  himself  against  the  rock  of  Divine 
justice,  so  that  all  his  bones  were  broken  ; 
but  what  a  rince  of  joy  and  gladness  is  that 
which  should  restore  full  soundness  and 
strength  to  bones  which  had  thus  been  crush- 
ed and  shattered  to  pieces!  Surely,  it  is  no 
other  voice  than  that  so  often  used  by  our 
Savior  in  the  gospel.  Son,  he  of  <;ood  cheer; 
thy  sins  are  fortriven  thee.  That  was  the 
grace,  softer  than  oil,  sweeter  than  roses, 
which  flowed  from  his  lips  into  the  sinner's 
wounds,  and  which  being  poured  into  the 
contrite  heart,  not  only  heals,  but  blesses  it, 
yea,  and  marks  it  out  for  eternal  blessedness. 
But  alas  I  the  greater  part  of  sinners  sleep  ia 
their  misery,  and  though  their  distemi)ers 
are  mortal,  feel  them  not.  It  is  therefore  no 
great  wonder,  that  this  grace,  this  precious, 
this  invaluable  remedy,  is  despised  by  them. 
But  oh,  how  sweet  is  the  voice  of  pardon  to 
a  soul  groaning  under  the  burden  of  sin  I 

•  Nemo  mcditabitur  fKEnitentiain,  nisi  qui  .spiTav»- 
rit  indulgentiam. 


3S0 


MEDITATIONS  ON  PSALM  CXXX. 


[Vf.r.  5—8. 


■   Quale  per  trsliim 

Diilcis  arjiiir  salimle  sitiiit  reslinguere  rivo  : 
"  Sweet  a«  the  living  streiun  to  summer  thirst." 

But,  as  one  well  expresses  it,  "  He  that 
has  never  known  discoinfon,  knows  not  what 
consolaiiou  means.  Men  of  this  world,  en- 
tanirled  in  tiie  cares  of  life  and  in  its  crimes, 
insensible  of  misery,  attend  not  to  mercy."* 
But  il'  any  who  imaaine  themselves  parta- 
kers of  this  forgiveness,  do  not  at  the  same 
time  feel  iheir  hearts  struck  with  a  pious 
fear  of  the  divine  majesty,  let  them  know  that 
iheir  joys  are  all  self-invented  dreams,  since 
It  is  for  this  very  end  that  thn-e.  is  foraive- 
ness  with  God  even  that  he  mar/  be  feared. 

lu  the  remainder  of  this  psalm,  the  author 
asserts  his  confidence  in  God,  and  labors  to 
confirm  and  establish  that  of  all  true  believ- 
t.s. 

Ver.  5.  I  wait  for  the  Lord,  my  soul  doth  wait,  and 
in  his  word  do  I  hope. 

Ver.  (j.  .My  soul  waiteth  for  the  Lord,  more  than 
they  that  watch  frr  'he  iiinniing  ;  I  say,  more  than 
thc-y  that  watch  for  the  morning. 

Ver.  7.  Let  Israel  hope  in  the  Lord,  for  with  the 
Lord  there  is  mercy,  and  with  him  is  plenteous  re- 
demption. 

Ver.  8.  And  he  shall  redeem  Israel  from  all  his  ini- 
quities. 

J  wait  for  the  Lord.]  With  thee  is  mercy. 
They  who  heartily  believe  this,  are  drawn 
by  that  sweet  and  amiable  force  of  desire,  to 
be  partakers  of  it.  And  certainly,  there  is  no 
true  i'aith  in  the  doctrine  of  salvation,  unless 
it  be  attended  with  this  magnetic  force  by 
which  it  draws  the  soul  to  God.  One  would 
think  it  were  impossible,  where  this  effect  is 
not  produced,  that  there  should  be  so  much 
as  an  historical  faiih  ;  and  surely  ii  is  contra- 
ry to,  and  inconsistent  with,  the  rational  na- 
ture, to  see  so  desirable  and  excellent  a  good 
aid  down  before  us,  and  freely  offered,  with- 
out running  most  freely  to  embrace  it  with 
open  arms,  and  an  ardent  impetuosity  of  soul. 

The  faith  therefore,  of  vulgar  and  merely 
nominal  Christians,  is  quite  dead,  and  de- 
serves not  the  name  of  faith  at  all.  I  mean, 
that  which  is  not  sufficient  to  excite  them 
earnestly  to  desire  and  expect  that  divine 
grace  in  which  they  say  they  believe.  True 
and  lively  faiih  is  the  eye  of  the  inner  man, 
which  beholds  an  infinitely  amiable  God,  the 
lucid  and  perpetiial  fountain  of  grace,  and 
is  by  the  view  immediately  kindled  into 
most  fervent  love.  That  divine  light  which 
is  sent  from  heaven  into  the  soul,  is  the  vehi- 
cle of  heat  too,  and,  by  its  ardent  rays,  pres- 
ently sets  the  heart  on  fire:  the  flame  rises 
sublime,  and  bears  all  the  affections  of  the 
mind  with  it,  t,^vvard  that  consummate  beau- 
ty which  it  renders  visible. 

When  a  philosopher  was  asked,  why  that 
which  is  fair  attracts  our  love,  he  answered, 
"  It  is  the  question  of  a  blind  man,"  m^Xou  ipi..- 

*  Quisquis  autem  desolationem  nnn  novit,  nec  con- 
lolationem  agnoscrre  potest.  Ilomine  soculi  negotiis 
t'.  fiii6;itiis  iniplicati,  duin  miseriam  non  sentiunt,  mis- 
«ricor'liun  nou  atteuduut. — Bern.\ru. 


TTniu.  Well  then  might  the  psalmist,  when 
he  had  been  contemplating  the  divine  good- 
ness, represent  luniself  as  quite  transported 
with  its  charms :  cj.  d.  "  It  is  nothing  eartl>- 
ly,  nothing  mortal,  that  is  the  object  of  my 
wish  ;  my  soul  hangs  on  the  Lord  alone.  Jt 
thirsts  for  thcc,  and  till  it  arrives  at  the  en- 
joyment of  thee,  it  will  still  bewailing.  Has- 
ten, Lord,  lo  support  and  comfort  me,  for  1 
am  sick  with  love  ;  nor  is  there  ajiylhrns;  in 
heaven  or  earth  beside  thee,  O  Lord,  which 
can  satiate  or  delight  this  soul  of  mine,  pier- 
ced through,  as  it  were,  with  this  sacred  pas- 
sion. And  though  I  am,  and  feel  myself  to 
be,  most  unworthy  of  loving  thee,  or  of  ho- 
ping ever  to  enjoy  thee,  yet  my  meanness 
and  vileness,  even  when  compared  with  thine 
inmiense  majesty  and  sublimity,  do  not  so 
much  deter  me,  as  thy  boundl(>ss  clemency 
and  goodness,  added  to  thy  truth,  while  I 
have  thy  word  of  promise  before  mine  eyes 
for  my  support,  sustain  me  and  animate  my 
courage.  Therefore,  while  my  love  and  de- 
sires are  most  ardent,  I  will  nevertheless  ex- 
pect and  wait  with  inward  patience  and  per- 
severance ;  and  though  a  heart  which  lovei 
like  mine  must  find  a  delay  grievoi's,  yet  un- 
shaken hope  shall  alleviate  that  sickness  of 
the  soul.  Just  as  they  that  watch  for  the 
morning,  however  they  may  be  afflicted  with 
the  darkness  and  coldness  of  the  night,  are 
constantly  supported  with  the  assured  hope 
that  the  dawn  will  come,  and  the  day  arise  in 
all  its  glory." 

Nor  does  the  psalmist  envy  others  their 
share  in  those  felicities  which  arise  from 
love  and  hope  ;  on  the  contrary,  with  a  cheer- 
ful and  liberal  mind,  he  invites  all  to  this  im- 
mense ocean  of  riches,  which  is  not  shut  up, 
but  free  to  all.  Let  Israel  hope  in  the  Lord. 
And,  lest  the  confluence  of  such  vast  numbers 
should  suggest  any  fears  of  strailness  and 
want,  he  confidently  declares  that  there  is 
wealth  enough,  and  more  than  enough,  to  sup- 
ply all  their  necessities:  Foruith  the  Lord, 
says  he,  there  is  mercy,  and  unth  him.  is 
plenteous  redemption  ;  grace  rich  and  copi- 
ous enough  to  support  all  sinners,  and  to  for- 
give all  sins  :  and  all  that  apply  to  it  shall  in- 
fallibly find  that  he  redeems  Israel  from  all 
his  iniquities.  The  eye  of  faiih  is  by  no 
means  evil,  hut  bright  and  sparkling  with  un- 
botmded  charity  :  it  wishes  all  good  to  all, 
and  above  all,  wishes  them  a  beatific  union 
with  the  supreme  and  infinite  Good.  As  in 
that  kingdom  of  glory  there  is  no  malignity,  nc 
envy,  because  there  can  be  no  siraitness,  but, 
according  to  that  emphatical  saying  of  our 
blessed  Savior,  There  arc  'many  mansions, — 
there  is  boundless  space,  and  the  seats  of  pious 
souls  are  not  marked  out  in  any  narrow  bounda- 
ries, but  in  an  ample  court  ;  so  even  in  the 
previous  kingdom  and  banquet  of  grace,  our 
heavenly  father's  house  is  magnificent,  both 
on  account  of  its  amplitude,  and  1he  rich  pro- 
vision which  it  contains. 

Let  me  beseech  you,  therefore,  strictly  to 


Ver.  s-8.]  a  fragment  UPON  THE  EIGHTH  PSALM. 


38 


examine  your  own  souls.  Inquire  what  it  is 
that  they  chiefly  wish,  hope,  and  desire; 
whether  they  give  chase  as  it  were  to  every 
painted  fly  ;  whether, /or^ai/no-  the  fountain 
of  living  waters,  they  are  digging  for  them- 
selves cist'iriis  of  clay,  and  those  leaky  too, 
with  great  and  unprofitable  labor.  0  ! 
wretched  deceitf'ulness  of  every  earthly  hope, 
which  mocks  and  deludes  us  so  much  the 
more  in  proportion  to  the  extravagance  of  its 
promises  !  Blessed  are  they,  and  only  they, 
who  fix  their  eyes  and  their  souls  above, 
and  say  with  the  psalmist.  Lord,  I  wait  on 
thee,  my  soul  does  wait,  and  tn  thy  word  do  I 
trust  ;  and,  as  elsewhere.  And  now,  Lord, 
what  wait  I  for?  Mi/  hope  is  in  thee.  Hap- 
py they  wlio  have  quilted  all  those  low  de- 
sires and  pursuits,  which  are  unworthy  of  a 
generous  and  immortal  spirit,  and  have  fixed 
their  love  on  one  ;  whose  heart  and  hopes  are 
set  upon  that  one,  in  whom  ail  things  excel- 
lent meet  and  centre.  A  cheerful  joy  always 
shines  on  their  face ;  nor  do  their  cheeks 
glow  with  the  shanae  of  repulse  and  disap- 
pointment. While  we  are  wandering  hither 
and  thither  in  the  vicious  and  perplexed  pur- 
suit of  flattering  objects,  what  frequent  lam- 
entations, what  fond  complaints  of  delusive 
fortune,  and  that  tragical  outcry,  ii, 
Tfiavnaruv  ivioiivuv,  of  grievous  and  painful 
wounds  !  Wliat  crowds  of  fears  and  cares 
divide  the  mind,  and  hurry  it,  now  one  way, 
and  now  another  !  But  when  we  fix  our 
hope  and  our  hearts  on  the  only  support,  on 
the  only  true  and  all-sulficient  good,  all  is 
safe,  and  the  soul  treads  firm  while  the  whole 
globe  trembles.  Let  external  things  be 
borne  this  way  or  that,  there  is  peace  with- 
in;  nor,  when  all  methods  have  been  exam- 
ined, can  any  other  be  found  for  the  esiablish- 
•nent  of  the  muid,  than  that  it  should  lay  all 
ts  stress  upon  the  one  immoveable  and  im- 
mutable rock. 


A  FRAGMENT  ON  PART  OF  THE 
EIGHTH  PSALM. 

That  which  it  is  needful  and  competent  for 
us  to  know  concerning  God,  he  hath  been 
pleased  to  reveal  :  and  our  most  excellent  and 
happy  employment  in  this  world,  is,  to  learn 
it. 

The  third  verse  of  this  Psalm  affords  us 
clearly  the  doctrine  of  the  creation.  That  part 
in  the  psalmist's  eye,  the  heavens,  being  the 
highest  and  largest  of  the  visible  world,  .sur- 
rounding and  containing  all  the  rest,  is  men- 
tioned ;  the  work  of  thy  fin<rers,  importing 
the 

curious  embellishments  of  thern  ;  the  moon 
and  stars  tvhich  thou  hast  ordained — placed 
them  in  their  orbits,  and  set  them  a-going, 
and  ap[)ointed  them  the  periods  and  revolu- 
tions which  they  observe.  So,  tiic  same  hand 
bath  fetched  all  other  things  out  of  the  same 
nothing,  as  we  have  it  in  the  beginning  of 


this  Book,  In  the  heginninz  God  €•  rated,  &c 
And  it  is  therefore  to  be  believed,  because  we 
find  it  there.  Can  the  Workei,  and  his  ope- 
ration,  be  discovered  by  strength  of  reason  ? 
Certainly,  they  who  have  been  of  most  con- 
fessed and  famous  ability  in  thai  way,  have 
been  partly  of  another  mind  ;  and  we  see  it 
reduced  to  its  truest  principle,  Hebrews  xi.  4: 
By  faith  ice  understand  that  the  worlds  were 
framed  by  the  word  of  God,  so  that  things 
which  are  seen  loere  not  made  of  thtns^s  which 
do  appear.  Yet  this  we  may  boldly  affirm,  that 
there  is  not  only  nothing  in  sound  reason  cros- 
sing  it,  but  that  all  the  cavils  alleired  against 
it  are  most  weak  of  themselves  ;  and  there 
be  many  things  in  nature  that  plead  strongly 
for  it,  which  we  may,  yea,  ought  to  take  no- 
tice of. 

The  continual  turnings  and  changes  of 
things,  the  passing  of  one  thing  to  another, 
the  destruction  of  some  things,  and  the  pro- 
I  duction  of  others,  and  the  general  decaying  of 
all,  the  very  heavens  -''axing  old  as  a  garment, 
]  declare  that  the  whole  i;-ame  is  mutable  and 
1  corruptible,  and  therefore  not  from  eternity, 
but  terminable  in  its  besinning. 

There  is  in  this  a  very  strong  appearance  of 
the  beginning  of  the  world  and  of  time  being 
according  to  the  sacred  history  we  have  of  it, 
and  which  faith  receives  ;  that  there  are  not 
any  records  nor  any  memoirs  or  history  of 
time,  or  things,  producible  in  the  world,  that 
go  higher  up,  no,  nor  any  human  histories 
that  go  near  so  high.  Now,  if  there  were 
thousands  of  ages  before,  wiienceis  so  deep  a 
silence  of  what  passed  in  them  ? 

They  who  can  conceive  it,  may  take  this 
reason  into  consideration,  that  if  the  world 
had  been  from  eternity,  then,  certainly,  the 
number  of  revolutions  would  be  infinite  ;  now, 
to  that  which  is  so,  nothing  can  be  added  ;  so 
that  it  were  impossible  there  could  be  any 
new  days  or  years,  Sec.  But,  above  all  dis- 
pute, we  believe  it  upon  His  word,  who  by 
his  word  gave  all  things  a  being.  The  whole 
Trinity,  as  in  all  things  without,  they  are  to- 
gether equally  concerned,  so  in  that  first  and 
great  work  of  making  all  things. 

As  by  the  Father,  so  by  the  word  wer6  all 
things  made,  and  the  Spirit  moved  upon  the 
face  of  the  deep:  Barah  Elohim — Trmiiy  in 
unity,  created. 

It  is  most  vain  to  inquire  why  the  world 
was  not  created  sooner,  in  tempore  ;  yea,  it  is 
nonsense,  for  the  same  question  might  equal- 
ly be  moved  whensoever  the  world  bad  been 
made,  though  it  had  lasted  now  millions  of 
years  ;  still  there  would  have  beeii  an  eternity 
preceding,  wherein  \\  was  not:  and  time  it- 
self was  concreated.  Nor  was  there  any  pre- 
existent  unformed  matter.  It  is  a  poor,  shal- 
low conceit,  that  any  such  thing  was  needful 
to  the  Almighty.  It  is  even  a  monstrous,  ab- 
surd conceit,  that  any  such  thing  was  possi- 
ble, and  destroys  itself;  for  if  this  framed 
worL  could  not  have  a  being  from  eternity, 
much  less  frameless  matter  ;  so,  of  necessity, 


382 


A  FRAGMENT  UPON  THE  EIGHTH  PSALM. 


all  thiiisrs  were  made  of  noiliiiiir,  received  a 
beini;  froin  the  Inliiiiie  Beiui::,  as  the  sjiring 
of  all  hein;;.  His  liaiids  sireiehed  forth  the 
lieavens,  and  laid  the  fouuda lions  of  the  earth. 
His  lingers  set  theni  all  in  this  sweet  aitd  ad- 
mirable order,  in  a  heautil'ul  frame. 

Now  these  expressions  are  suited  to  our 
reaeli,  but  the  truth  is,  his  fimjfer  and  his 
wlu)le  hand  are  all  one,  and  his  hand  is  ii;s 
word.  Psalm  xxxiii.  6:  Cxen.  i.  3.  And  his 
word  is  bis  all-powerful  and  eternal  will  :  that 
is  the  breath  of  his  mouth,  and  his  siretched- 
oui  arm.  He  said,  that  is,  he  willed  it,  and 
It  was  so.  When  as  yet  there  was  no  man 
nor  angel,  no  heaven  nor  earth,  no  tiine  nor 
being,  but  the  alone  blessed  Trinity,  eternally 
self-happy,  upon  the  simple  act  of  his  abso- 
lute will  came  forth  this  whole  frame,  out  of 
the  Womb  of  Omnipotence.,  And  this  is  that 
ceriain  truth  which  we  believe  under  the 
name  of  creation. 

This  supposed,  it  is  very  easy  to  conceive, 
yea,  it  is  impossible  to  question  it,  that  it  had 
been  as  easy  for  that  Power  to  have  brought 
forth  all  in  cotnplete  perfection  at  one  instant, 
as  to  have  divided  the  work  into  six  days. 
And  as  we  can  not  think  it  easier,  so  we  can 
not  but  think  it  belter,  since  he  chose,  yea. 
/jecause  he  chose  it,  as  for  that  reason  better. 
Well  may  his  will  be  sufficient  cause  why 
that  way  of  his  production  of  all  things  was 
bet'er,  seeing  that  his  will  was  purely  the 
cause  of  the  production  and  being  of  all. 

But  in  part  we  may  ol)serve  some  advan- 
tage in  that  way,  that  he  made  so  many  days' 
work  of  it,  and  proceeded  by  degrees  to  bring 
it  to  perfection ;  that  we  might  the  more 
clearly  perceive,  and  more  distinctly  consider, 
the  greatness  and  excellency  of  the  work,  and 
the  wise  contrivance  of  it  in  its  several  parts 
and  progress,  which  we  could  not  so  well  com- 
prehend altogether.  Now,  we  consider  him 
as  first  framing  one  great  mass,  and  then  pro- 
ceeding to  beautify  it,  first  with  that  which 
is  indeed  the  first  beautifier  of  all  things, 
and  then  ordered  the  successive  interchange 
of  it  with  its  opposite,  darkness,  that  sets  it 
off  and  makes  its  beauty  appear  the  more, 
giving  thein  their  terms  in  day  and  n/g/i/  ; 
then  proportioning  and  dividing  the  rooms  '#f 
the  great  house  into  upper  and  lower,  accord- 
ing to  his  model  and  design  ;  then  decorating 
them  with  rich  furniture,  and  providing  all 
kinds  of  store  in  great  variety  and  abundance. 
And  thus,  havmg  first  prepared  all,  having 
built,  beautified,  and  replenished  so  stately  a 
palace,  then  framed  he  the  guest  for  whom  he 
intended  it,  and  whom  he  appointed  to  dwell 
in  it.  Then  he  said.  Let  us  make  man  after 
our  image.  Thus,  the  work  of  itself,  and  the 
order  of  it,  and  all  the  parts,  carrv  on  them 
HIS  name  who  formed  them.  How  do  his 
power,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness,  appear  in 
them  !  And  yet  how  little  do  we  see  and  ob- 
serve it  I  It  <hines  bright  in  all  his  works, 
but  we  are  blind  ;  we  look  m  t/iem,  and  see 
ktm  not  ■    Oh,  what  a  childish,  trilling  thing 


is  man  in  all  his  ways,  till  h(  learns  to  remark 
(lod  in  all,  and  to  have  his  soul  upon  all  oc- 
casions nnising  and  admiiing,  and  sweetly 
losing  itself  in  God,  that  immense  sea  of  ex- 
cellencies  !  What  a  bottomless  wonder  is  that 
Power,  from  which,  by  a  simjtle  act  of  will, 
issued  forih  all  being!  This  vast  fabric,  and 
all  things  in  it,  he  willed  they  should  be,  and 
where  never  anything  was,  there  api)eared, 
on  a  sudden,  heaven  and  earth  :  the  earth 
settled  upon  his  word,  so  that  it  can  not  be 
moved,  and  enriched  with  such  a  variety  of 
plants,  and  flowers,  and  fruits  growing  forth, 
and  springs  and  mines  within  the  bowels  of 
it  ;  the  seas  fitted  for  navigation,  together 
wiih  the  multitudes  of  creatures  in  it,  small 
and  great,  and  the  impetuousness  of  it,  yet 
confined  and  forced  to  roll  in- its  channel,  so 
that  it  can  not  go  forth  ;  the  small  sands  giv- 
ing  check  to  the  i^reat  waters.  Oh,  how 
strong  and  large  that  Hand,  which  without 
help  expands  the  heavens  as  a  curtain  !  Look 
up  and  see,  consider  their  height  and  round- 
ness, such  a  glorious  canopy  set  with  such 
sparkling  diamonds:  then  think  how  swift 
their  motion,  and  yet  imperceivable  to  us,  no 
motion  here  below  comparable,  and  yet  they 
seem  not  to  stir  at  all.  And  in  all,  their  great 
Lord  and  cjurs  so  conspicuous  !  And  yet  who 
looks  on  them  with  such  an  eye  as  to  behold 
him,  as  David  here,  Wheti  I  consider  thy 
heavens,  the  work,  &c.  !  He  is  admirable  m 
all:  the  very  lowest  and  smallest  creatures 
have  their  wonders  of  Divine  wisdom  in  their 
Irame,  more  than  we  are  able  to  think.  Mag- 
nus m  /niinmis  :  He  is  great  in  the  least  of 
his  works.  The  smallest  flies,  how  strange 
the  fashioning  of  the  organs  of  life  and  use  in 
so  little  room  !  The  man  who  is  siill  in  search 
of  wisdom  will  find  a  school  and  a  lesson  in 
all  places,  and  see  everywhere  the  greatness 
and  goodness  of  his  God.  If  he  walk  forth  in 
the  evening,  when  this  lower  world  is  clothed 
with  the  dark  mantle  of  the  night,  yet  still 
he  can  look  upward  to  the  pavenjent  of  the 
throne  of  (xod,  and  think  how  glorious  it  is  on 
the  other  side,  when  the  moon  and  stars  make 
this  side,  even  in  the  night,  so  beautiful.  And 
this  of  David's,  looks  like  a  night  medi'tation 
by  the  view  of  moon  and  stars.  Thy  heavens, 
these  thy  works  so  glorious — thou,  therefore, 
infinitely  more  glorious  :  then  can  I  not  but 
increase  in  wonder,  that,  dwelling  above  these 
heavens,  thou  regardest  so  poor  a  worm  as 
man  creeping  on  this  earth. 

What  IS  man  !  "  'Enash,"  treak,  mortal  man; 
and  "  Ben-Adam,"  the  son  of  earth,  the  earth- 
ly man.  David  was  taught  so  to  look  on  his 
mean  part  and  low  condition,  and  on  his  bet- 
ter part,  as  follows,  ver.  5,  as  a  sort  of  divin- 
ity being  freely  conferred  upon  him. 

Thus  men  should  learn  to  view  themselves 
in  this  twofold  light.  Bi/  the  grace  of  God 
1  am  that  I  am,  saitli  St'.  Paul.  Truly  man 
is  a  wretched  and  proud  creature,  a  bundle 
of  vanity  and  vlleness  ;  and  yet  he  thinks 
himself  some  great  matter  while  God  is  hid 


A  FRAGMENT  UPON  THE  EIGHTH  PSALM. 


383 


from  him,  and  he  is  ignorant  of  his  great- 
ness. 

No  discourse  or  reasoning  will  humble  the 
foolish  heart  of  mm  ;  though  he  be  even  of 
the  most  worthless  and  basest  sort  of  men, 
and  hath  in  this  condition  nothing  but  what 
is  despicable,  yet  he  flatters    imself  with 
some  fancy  or  other,  some  imagined  advan- 
tage that  swells  him.    He  can  not  be  truly 
rile  in  his  own  eyes  till  they  look  up  to  the 
excellency  of  God,  and  return  froi  i  that  down 
upon  himself.    Then  he  is  forced  to  bow,  and 
lall  low,  and  abhor  himself  in-  dust  and  ashes.  ! 
Once  he  was  wise  and  powerful,  or  some  way  ' 
deserving  (as  he  thought^  to  he  respected  ; 
but  now  the  glory  and  sublimity  of  God  make  ' 
him  to  be  as  notliing  in  his  own  eyes.  What 
\i  man !    David,  a  great  and  a  good  man,  a 
king  and  a  prophet,  and'  yet  a  man,  viewing 
and  comparing  himself  wi'h  his  own  eyes,  in 
'espect  of  the  great  King  of  all  the  world,  be 
cries  out,  What  m  man,  that  thou  art  mindful  j 
of  him,  and  the  son  of  man.  that  thou  visitcst  \ 
him  ?  These  words  deserve  to  be  considered. 
Thou  mindest  him  in  all  these  things,  the 
works  above  him,  even  in  the  framing  of  , 
these  heavens,  the  moon  and  the  stars,  de- ; 
signing  his  good  ;  thou  makest  all  attend  and 
serve  him.    It  is  not  an  empty  insitina  of 
him,  but  thou  seest  all  his  necessities  and  pro- 
videst  for  them.    He  sets  his  heart  on  man, 
and  all  his  delights  are  with  the  sons  of  men. 
Prov.  viii.  31. 

But  above  all  visits,  that  visit  is  to  be  re- 
marked and  admired,  when  the  Eternal 
Word,  by  whom  this  world  was  made,  came 
down,  and  was  made  Jlesh  ;  came  from  his 
glorious  palace,  from  the  bosom  of  the  Fa- 
ther, to  visit  man  in  that  deep  and  profound  i 
abyss  of  misery  into  which  he  was  fallen,  and 
to  lift  him  out  of  it,  and  cleanse,  and  clothe, 
and  dignify  him  ;  came  to  make  the  slaves  of 
Satan  sons  of  God.  And  the  psalmist  points 
at  Christ,  as  the  following  words  are  api)lied, 
Heb.  ii.9.  This  is  a  descending  indeed,  which 
the  angels  are  still  prying  into,  looking  into 
for  the  bottom,  and  can  not  see  it,  for  it  hath  | 
none.  Oh,  that  Christ  should  be  disregarded, 
and  his  love  slighted  !  He  ivas  in  the  iror/d,  ' 
and  the  world  iras  made  hy  him,  and  the  vorld 
knew  him  not.  John  i.  10.  He,  the  same  who 
became  like  unto  us,  and  united  our  flesh  to 
his  blessed  Deity,  did  give  a  being  to  all 
things,  and  by  him  all  things  consist.  Colos- 
sians  i.  17. 

Our  Head  and  Savior  is  no  less  than  the  [ 
mighty  power.  Creator  of  ihe  world.  He  who  j 
IS  our  flesh,  he  who  had  his  arms  wrajjped  up 
in  swaddling-clothes,  and  afterward  stretched 
upon  the  cross,  lie  it  was  who  stretched  forth 
the  heavens,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  the 
eanh.  The  v/^eight  of  the  love  of  so  great  a 
King  should  press  us  low.  And  then,  the  per- 
suasion of  his  almighty  power  assures  us  of 
complete  redcm[)tii^n  :  for  our  salvation  is  in 
a  sure  and  strong  hand.  We  have  a  mighty 
Redeemer:  Thy  Maker  it  thy  husband,  the 


Lord  o  f  hosts  is  his  name,  and  thy  Tledremtr 
the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  the  God  of  the  whole 
earth  shall  he  be  called. 

When  I  behold,  says  the  psalmist. 

The  carnal  mind  sees  God  in  nothing,  not 
even  in  spiritual  things,  his  word  and  ordi- 
nances. The  spiritual  mind  sees  him  in  ev- 
erything, even  in  natural  things,  in  looking 
on  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  all  the 
creatures — thy  heavens  ;  sees  all  in  that  no- 
tion, in  their  relation  to  God  as  his  work,  and 
in  them  his  glory  appearing  :  stands  in  awe, 
fearing  to  abuse  his  creatures  and  his  favors 
to  dishonor.  The  day  is  thme,  and  the  night 
a/so  IS  thme  ;  therefore  ought  not  I  to  forget 
thee  through  the  day,  nor  in  the  night. 

All  that  I  use,  and  all  that  I  have,  is  not 
mine,  but  thine,  and  therefore  all  shall  he  for 
THEE  ;  thou  art  my  aim  and  scope  in  all. 
Therelbre  God  quarrels  with  his  people,  be- 
cause they  had  forgotten  this.  Hos.  ii.  8,  &c. 
The  most  are  strangers  to  these  thoughts  ; 
they  can  eat,  drink,  and  sleep,  lie  down  and 
rise  up,  and  pass  one  day  after  another,  with- 
out one  reverend  or  aff'ectionate  thought  of 
God.  They  may  give  him  a  formal  good- 
morrow,  anil  then  farewell  for  all  the  day  long ; 
they  ofi'er  up  their  prayers  (as  they  sjicak), 
and  think  they  have  done  enough,  and  that 
afterward  their  hearts  may  go  whither  they 
will,  provided  they  escape  grosser  sins  ;  they 
never  check  themselves  in  wanderinj  from 
God  all  the  day,  if  they  lall  not  into  some 
deep  mire. 

But  even  they  who  are  somewhat  more 
mindful  of  God,  and  see  him  in  his  works,  and 
consider  them  so  as  to  observe  him  in  them, 
yet  are  very  faulty  in  thinking  of  him  seldom, 
and  in  the  slightness  of  such  thoughts  ;  they 
are  not  deep  in  them.  We  do  not  accustom 
ourselves  to  walk  with  God,  to  a  continued 
and  delightful  converse  with  him,  to  be  still 
with  him.  We  can  turn  our  eyes  no  way  but 
he  is  visible  and  legible  ;  and  if  he  were  our 
delight,  and  his  name  sweet  to  us,  we  should 
eye  that  more  in  everything,  than  the  things 
themselves. 

The  heart  will  readily  espy  and  take;  hold 
of  every  small  occasion  ol'  remembering  that 
which  it  loves.  That  which  carries  any  im- 
pression of  the  person  on  whom  the  affection 
is  set  is  more  looked  upon  on  that  side,  and 
in  that  reference,  than  any  othe;. 

Certainly,  were  God  the  choice  of  our 
hearts,  our  natural  use  and  enjoyment  of 
things  wcjuld  not  relish  so  much  with  us,  nor 
take  us  up  so  much,  as  the  viewing  of  hira 
in  them  all.  In  our  affairs  and  our  refresh- 
ments, in  company  and  ai)art,  in  the  behold- 
ing of  heaven  and  earth,  and  all  that  is  round 
about  us,  our  eye  would  be  most  on  Him 
whom  our  soul  loveth.  What  a  pity,  and 
what  a  shame  is  it,  that  we  who  profess  our- 
selves to  be  his  children,  and  even  they  who 
truly  are  so,  should  so  little  mind  our  Father 
and  his  greatness  and  slory,  who  is  continu- 
a.ly  minding  'js  and  our  good  !    It  is  indeed 


384 


A  FRAGMENT  UPON  THE  EIGHTH  PSALM. 


a  double  staiuliiisi  wonder  in  the  world  which 
he  hutli  made,  tliai  God  should  take  so  much 
noiice  of  man,  and  man  should  take  so  little 
notice  of  God. 

Were  this  known  truth  of  the  creation 
wisely  improved,  we  should  find  much  in  it 
that  we  couuuonly  observe  not,  at  least  that 
we  use  not.  This  one  thincf,  surely,  it  might 
gain  upon  us,  to  fear  his  displeasure  who  is 
so  great,  and  so  powerful,  who  hath  the 
whole  host  of  heaveti,  and  the  great  army  of 
all  creatures,  at  his  connnand. 

What  he  commands  they  must  obey  ;  for 
he  commanded  and  they  were  made:  they 
have  their  being  from  his  command.  How 
quickly  can  he  crush  those  who  proudly  rel)el 
against  him  !  How  easily  can  he  shake  them 
to  pieces,  the  greatest  and  the  strongest  of 
them  !  He  pourelh  contempt  upon  princes. 
Yea,  what  are  they  ?  Base  potsherds  of 
earth  striving  with  their  Maker,  though 
somewhat  bigger  than  others,  yet  as  easily 
broken  by  his  sceptre.  0  you  that,  after  all 
warnings,  dare  walk  on  in  your  wicked  ways, 
in  drunkenness,  or  swearing,  or  any  secret 
heart  wickedness,  you  know  not  who  is  your 
party  :  the  great  God,  the  Former  of  all 
things.  Who  would  not  fear  thee,  0  Kins: 
of  nations  ?  You  who  do  not  fear  him  are 
in  a  fearful  estate.  Learn  to  know  him,  and 
seek  unto  him.  Seek  the  Lord,  and  ye  shall 
live.  Seek  him  who  hath  the  seven  stars,  and 
Orion  ;  who  turneth  the  shadoxo  of  death  into 
the  'morning,  and  maketh  the  day  dark  with 
night.    Ames  v.  8. 

There  is  in  this  a  strong  ground  of  spirit- 
ual confidence,  both  for  the  church's  concern- 
ment and  our  own  in  every  state.  This  first 
v^ork  of  God  rightly  looked  on,  answers  all 
the  difficulties  of  the  greatest  works  we  can 
expect  at  his  hands.  Let  Zion's  enemies 
grow  to  their  highest,  thcv  can  not  rise  so 
high  as  to  be  above  this  Almighty  God,  who 
framed  the  heavens.  Let  the  church  be 
brought  to  the  lowest  depths  of  distress,  yet 
can  not  she  fall  so  low,  but  his  everlasting 
arm  is  long  enough  to  reach  her,  and  draw  her 
out  of  it,  which  drew  the  whole  world  out  of 
nothing.  He  doth  therefore  often  represent, 
by  his  prophets,  this  very  work  as  a  certain 
evidence  ol'  his  unbounded  power.  See  Isa. 
xliii.  13  :  xliv.  24  ;  and  li.  12,  13 :  Jer.  li.  19, 
20  :  Zech.  xii.  1.  What  task  can  be  so  great 
as  to  surcharge  him,  who  so  easily  brcMght 
forth  a  world  ?  What  number  can  be  too 
small,  what  instrument  too  weak  in  his  hand, 
for  the  greatest  work,  who,  without  either 
working  instrument  or  materials,  built  such 
a  palace  ? 

Fear  not,  thou  worm  Jacob,  and  ye  men  of 
Israel  —  Why?  Wherefore  have  they  no 
reason  to  fear,  they  being  but  as  a  worm  ? — 
/  will  help  thee,  satth  the  Lord.  Behold,  J 
will  make  thee  a  new  sharp  thrashing  instru- 
ment with  teeth,  and  thou  shalt  thrash  the 
mountains,  and  make  the  hills  chaff.  Tsa. 
xli.  15.    A  worm  in  thyself,  but  in  my  hand 


a  thrashing  instrument.  Weak  Jacob  and  nis 
strong  God  are  too  hard  for  all  the  world. 

On  the  other  side,  what  serve  multitudes 
without  him  ?  All  were  originally  nothing, 
and  when  He  wills,  they  prove  as  nothing. 
Severed  from  his  concurrence,  as  ciphers, 
multiply  them  as  you  will,  still  they  signify 
nothing.  Ten  thousand  men,  without  God, 
are  ten  thousand  nothings.  We  have  had 
very  late  and  very  clear  experiment  of  this, 
both  to  our  grief  and  to  our  comlbrt.  But 
both  are  forgotten,  and  indeed  were  never 
duly  considered  ;  for  if  they  had,  they  would 
not  so  soon,  yea,  they  truly  would  never  be 
forgotten  by  us.  Well,  however,  it  grieveth 
us,  by  reason  of  our  own  contmuing  hard  in 
wickedness.  Yet  thifi  I  am  sure  ol',  that  the 
strong  arm  of  the  Lord  is  engaged  in  this 
work  :  he  hath  already  appeared  in  it,  and 
therefore  will  not  let  it  fall ;  and  though  we 
were  at  a  lower  ebb  tlijin  lately  we  were,  yet 
should  we  rise  again  by  his  strength.  Doubt 
it  not,  the  enemies  of  our  peace  shall  be 
ashamed,  and  God  shall  be  yet  more  glorious 
in  the  world  than  ever,  not  only  in  our  out- 
ward deliverance,  but  in  that  which  is  far 
richer  and  of  higher  beauty,  the  power  and 
glory  of  his  ordinances.  He  shall  make 
things  that  are  not,  to  be,  by  the  mighty 
power  of  his  mouth,  and  throughout  the 
world,  Jesus  Christ  shall  go  on  conquering. 
In  his  name  lies  the  reason  of  his  prevailing. 
His  name  is  called  tiif.  word  of  God,  that 
same  word  by  which  all  things  were  made  ; 
therefore  no  opposite  power  is  able  to  stand 
before  him.  It  is  a  great  work  to  ruin  great 
Babel,  but  his  strength  is  enough  for  it. 
Mighty  is  the  Lord  God  who  judgeth.  It  is 
a  great  work  to  restore  his  church,  but  here 
is  power  enough  for  it,  and  it  is  spoken  of 
under  the  resemblance  of  the  creation,  Isa. 
li.  16. 

For  the  estate  of  thy  soul,  thou  that  art 
thoughtful  of  that,  what  cause  hast  thou  to 
suspeet  ?  Is  there  any  plea  left  lor  distrust 
in  thy  lowest  condition  ?  Thou  art  about 
great  things,  and  findest  all,  not  only  difficul- 
ties, but  impossibilities  to  thee.  Good  is  it 
that  thou  shouldst  find  it  so,  and  be  emptied 
of  all  fancy  of  self-strength.  But  then,  look 
up  above  thyself,  and  all  created,  to  a  cre- 
ating power.  If  thou  canst  not  subdue  thy 
lusts  and  iniquities,  resolve  to  wrestle. 
Wrestle  as  thou  wilt,  still  they  are  too  hard 
for  thee;  but  look  to  him  who  came  to  de- 
stroy the  works  of  Satan.  Hath  not  thy 
.Mmighty  Lord  resolved  to  do  it  for  thee  f 
Thou  findest  nothing  within  but  blindnesa 
and  hardness,  canst  not  repent,  nor  believe, 
nor  think  aright  thought  of  God.  Ii  is  so. 
But  one  word  irom  him  can  do  all  this,  and 
make  all  those  to  subsist  that  now  are  not. 
Therefore,  lay  thyself  before  him,  as  dead, 
yea  as  very  nothing.  Say,  "  Lord,  I  am  noth- 
ing of  all  that  which  constitutes  the  being 
of  a  Christian  in  holiness,  in  faith,  in  love: 
but  speak  thou  the  word,  and  I  shall  be  a 


A  FRAGMENT  UPON  THE  EIGHTH  PSALM. 


385 


new  creature,  to  thy  praise.    There  is  noth-  ing  souls  ;  to  revive  them,  to  restcre  or  turn 

ing  upoa  my  soul  but  darkness  ;  but  art  not  them  again,  when  they  are  in  a  swoon,  as 

thou  HE  who  said,  '  Let  there  be  light,  and  the  word  is,  Psalm  xxiii.    The  more  thou 

there  was  light  ?'    That  word,  again,  Lord,  puttest  him  to  it,  the  more  shalt  thou  hnd  his 

say  it  to  my  soul,  and  it  shall  be  so."  Think  prevailing  power,  and  the  fulness  of  grace 

not  to  bring  anything  with  thee.    Renova-  thai  dwells  in  him,  which  is  no  more  dimin- 

tion  is  as  absolute  and  free  a  work,  as  crea-  ished  by  all  he  shows  forth,  than  his  divine 

tion.   Could  his  creature  oblige  him  to  make  power  was  weakened  by  the  framing  of  the 

it,  before  it  had  a  being?    No  more  can  it  world.  There  is  no  scarcity  of  spirit  in  him; 

oblige  him  to  save  it,  or  to  give  il  a  new  be-  therefore,  he  proclaimed  it  as  plural  :  If  any 

ing  in  Christ :  all  is  free.    The  miracles  of  man  thirst,  let  him  come  to  me  and  drink.  He 

Christ,  signs  of  power  and  goodness,  are  pre-  that  beltevelh  in  me,  out  of  his  belly  shall 

ludes  to  his  greater  work.    It  is  most  sense-  flow  rivers  of  living  water. 

less  to  have  a  thought  of  preventing  him,  Hov)  man  fold  are  thy  works,  O  Lord  .' says 

from  whom  all  good  and  all  being  flow.  And  the  psalmist.  Psalm  civ.  24  ;  and  then  he 

this  he  does:   If  any  be  in  Christ,  he  ^is  adds  that  wherein  all  the  variety  of  them 

a  new  creature  :  the  word  is,  all  made  new,  agrees,  the  holding  forth  of  his  incomparable 

new  delights  and  desires,  and  thoughts  new  wisdom,  from  whose  wisdom  they  are  :  In 

— a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth — a  new  wisdom  thou  hast  made  them  all.    As  they 

soul,  and  a  new  body  ;  renewed  in  holiness,  are  some  of  them  more  excellent  than  others, 

sanctihed,  and  made  conformable  to  JesUs  they  certainly  do,  in  a  clearer  and  more  emi- 

Christ.    And  when  thou  findest  some  work  nent  degree,  glorify  God.  In  the  great  I'abric, 

of  grace,  which  thou  canst  not  wholly  deny,  that  part  which  hath  the  place,  the  heavens, 

and  yet  wantest  that  peace  and  joy  which  hath  also  this  advantage;  the  greatness  of 

thou  desirest,  look  to  him  for  that  too.  Thou  the  great  Architect  appears  somewhat  more 

findest  it  not  from  the  word  preached  ;  yet,  bright  in  them.    Therefore  are  they  singled 

he  can  'Speak  it,  and  even  by  that  word  out  from  the  rest  for  that  purpose,  both  here, 

wherein  formerly  thou  didst  not  find  it.  It  is  ver.  3,  and  Psalm  xix.  1.    But  beyond  all  the 

the  fruit  of  the  lips,  but  it  is  so  withal,  that  rest,  and  even  beyond  them,  are  the  wisdom 

it  is  his  creation  :  he  only  causes  it  to  be.    /  and  goodness  of  God  displayed  in  the  frara- 

create  the  fruit  of  the  lips,  peace,  peace.  Isa.  ing  of  his  reasonable  creatures. 

Ivii.  19.    The  Father  wrought  by  the  Son  in  There  are  of  them  two  stages;  the  one 

the  first  creation,  but  in  a  new  and  special  ;  higher,  the  angels,  the  other  lower,  yet,  but 

manner  works  by  him  in  this  second  crea-  a  little  lower,  man  :  as  here,  we  have  them 

tion.    He  is  that  i/'orrf  w^ir/e         who  is  the  together. 

life  and  the  spring  of  all  the  grace  and  com-  Thou  hasl  made  him  a  little  lower  than 

fort  thou  desirest  or  readest  of.    Go  to  him :  the  angels — of  the  nature  of  a  spirit,  a  ra- 

he  delights  to  let  forth  his  mercies  to  thirst-  tional,  intelligent  spirit —     ♦     *      #  # 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURES  ON  PSALM  XXXIX.* 


LECTURE  I. 
Ver.  I.  I  said  I  will  take  heed  to  my  ways,  that  I 
sin  not  with  my  tontjiip  ;   I  will  keep  my  mouth 
with  a  bridle,  while  the  wicked  is  before  me. 
Certainly  it  is  a  high  dignity  that  is  con- 
ferred upon  man,  that  he  may  as  freely  and 
frequently  as  he  will,  converse  with  him  who 
made  him,  the  great  king  of  heaven  and 
earth.     It  is,  indeed,  a  wonder,  that  God 
should  honor  poor  creatures  so  much  ;  but  it 
is  no  less  strange,  that  men  having  so  great 
privileges,  the  most  part  of  them  do  use  them 
so  little.    Seldom  do  we  come  to  him  in  times 


of  ease.  And  when  we  are  spurred  to  it  by 
afflictions  and  pains,  commonly  we  try  all 
other  means  rather  than  this,  which  is  the 
alone  true  and  unfailing  comfort.  Rut  such 
as  have  learned  this  way  of  laying  their  pain- 
ed head  and  heart  on  his  bosom,  they  are  tru- 
ly happy,  though  in  the  world's  language  they 
be  never  so  miserable. 

This  is  the  resource  of  this  holy  man  in  the 
time  of  his  affliction,  whatever  it  was, — pray- 
er and  tears,  bemoaning  himself  before  his 
God  and  father,  and  that  the  more  fervently, 
in  that  he  finds  his  speaking  to  men  so  uu» 


•  First  published  in  the  edition  of  the  Expository  Works,  in  two  volumes,  printed  for  David  Wilson. 
Edinburgh,  1748.  r        j  ,  .  r 

49 


386 


EXPOSITOKY  LECTURES 


[Lect.  1. 


jM-ofitable  :  and  therefore  he  refrains  from  it. 
^he  psiilin  consists  of  two  jians,  his  si- 
lence to  men,  and  his  si)eech  to  God  ;  and 
both  of  them  are  set  witli  sucli  sweet  notes 
of  music,  ihougli  tiiey  be  sad,  that  ihey  de- 
serve well  to  be  committed  To  the  chief  mu- 
sician. 

1  said  I  will  take  heed  to  my  u'nys.]  It  was 
to  himself  that  lie  said  it  ;  and  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  any  other  to  jirove  a  good  or  a  wise 
man.  without  mucli  of  this  kind  of  speech  to 
himself  It  is  one  of  the  most  excellent  and 
distinguishing  faculties  of  a  reasonable  crea- 
ture ;  much  beyond  vocal  speech,  for  in  that, 
some  birds  may  imitate  us  ;  but  neiilier  bird 
nor  beast  have  anything  of  this  kind  of  lan- 
guage, of  rellecting  or  discoursing  with  itself 
]t  is  a  wonderful  brutality  in  the  greatest 
part  of  men,  who  are  so  little  conversant  in 
this  kind  of  speech,  being  framed  and  dispos- 
ed for  it,  and  which  is  not  only  of  itself  ex- 
cellent, but  of  continual  use  and  advantage  ; 
but  it  is  a  common  evil  among  men,  to  go 
abroad,  and  out  of  themselves,  which  is  a 
madness  and  a  true  distraction.  It  is  true,  a 
man  hath  need  of  a  well-set  mind,  when  he 
speaks  to  himself ;  for  otherwise,  he  may  be 
worse  company  to  himseli'  than  if  he  were 
with  others.  But  he  ought  to  endeavor  to 
have  a  better  with  him,  to  call  in  God  to  his 
heart  to  dwell  with  him.  If  thus  we  did,  we 
should  find  how  sweet  this  were  to  speak  to 
ourselves,  by  now  and  then  intermixing  our 
speech  with  discourses  unto  God.  For  want 
of  this,  the  most  part  not  only  lose  their  time 
in  vanity,  in  their  converse  abroad  with  oth- 
ers, but  do  carry  in  heaps  of  that  vanity  to 
the  stock  which  is  in  their  own  hearts,  and 
do  converse  with  that  in  secret,  which  is  the 
greatest  and  deepest  folly  in  the  worJd. 

Other  solitary  employments,  as  reading  the 
disputes  and  controversies  that  are  among 
men,  are  tilings  not  unuseful  ;  yet,  all  turns 
to  waste,  if  we  read  not  our  own  heart,  and 
study  that.  This  is  the  stiA-'y  of  every  holy 
man,  and  between  this  and  the  consideration 
of  God,  he  spends  his  hours  and  endeav- 
ors. Some  have  recommended  the  reading 
of  men  more  than  books ;  but  what  is  in  the 
one,  or  in  both  of  them,  or  all  the  world  be- 
side, without  this  ?  A  man  shall  find  him- 
self out  ol'  his  proper  business,  if  he  acquaint 
not  himself  with  this,  to  speak  much  with 
God  and  with  himself,  concerning  the  order- 
mg  of  his  own  ways. 

It  is  true,  it  is  necessary  for  some  men,  in 
some  particular  charges  and  stations,  to  re- 
gard the  ways  of  others  ;  and  besides  some- 
thing also  there  may  be  of  a  wise  observing 
of  others,  to  improve  tha  good  and  the  evil 
•we  see  in  them,  to  our  <  wn  advantage,  and 
the  bettering  of  our  own  ways,  looking  on 
them  to  make  the  repercus'  !on  the  stronger 
on  ourselves  ;  but  except  it  be  out  of  ciiarity 
and  wisdom,  it  flows  eiilier  from  uncharita- 
ble malice,  or  else  a  curious  and  vain  sjnrit, 
U)  look  much  and  narrowly  into  the  ways  of 


others,  and  to  know  the  manner  of  living  of 
persons  about  us,  and  so  to  know  everytliing 
hut  ourselves:  like  travellers,  that  are  well 
seen  in  foreign  and  rt  inote  jiarts,  but  stran- 
gers in  the  ali'airs  oi'  their  own  country  at 
home.  The  check  that  Christ  gave  to  Peter, 
is  due  to  such,  What  ik  that  to  thee  ?  Follow 
thou  me.  John  xxi.  22.  "  Look  thou  to  thine 
own  feet,  that  they  may  be  set  in  the  right 
way."  It  is  a  strange  thing,  that  men  should 
lay  out  their  diligence  abroad  to  their  loss, 
when  their  pains  might  be  bestowed  to  tlieii 
advantage  nearer  at  hand,  at  home  within 
themselves. 

This  that  the  psalmist  herespeaks  of,  taking 
hefd  to  las  icays,  as  it  imports  his  present  dili- 
gence,  so,  also,  it  hath  in  it  reflection  on  his 
ways  past,  and  these  twodomutually  assist  one 
another.  He  shall  never  regulate  his  ways  be- 
ibre  him,  who  has  not  wisely  considered  his 
ways  past ;  for  there  is  wisdom  gathered  from 
the  observation  of  what  is  gone,  to  the  choos- 
ing where  to  walk  in  time  to  come,  to  see  where 
he  is  weakest,  and  lies  exposed  to  the  greatest 
hazard,  and  there  to  guard.  Thus  David  ex- 
presses it  in  another  psalm,  /  thought  on  my 
ways,  and  turned  my  feel  unto  thij  testimo- 
nies. Psalm  cxix.  52.  And  this  should  be 
done  not  only  in  the  great  change  of  one's 
first  conversion  from  sin,  but  this  double  ob- 
servance must  be  still  continued  every  day: 
a  man  should  be  looking  to  his  rule,  and  lay- 
ing that  rule  to  his  way,  and  observing 
where  the  bulk  and  nonconformiiy  to  the 
rule  is,  and  renewing  his  repentance  ilir  that, 
and  amending  it  the  next  day,  that  still  the 
present  day  maybe  the  better  for  yesterday's 
error. 

And  surely  there  is  much  need  of  this,  il 
we  consider  how  we  are  encompassed  about 
with  hazards,  and  snares,  and  a  variety  of 
temptations,  and  how  little  we  have  either  of 
strength  to  overcome,  or  of  wisdom  to  avoid 
them,  especially  they  being  secretly  set  and 
unseen  (which  makes  them  the  more  danger- 
ous), everywhere  in  the  way  in  which  we 
must  walk,  and  even  in  those  ways  where 
we  least  think.  Everywhere  does  the  enemy 
of  our  souls  lay  traps  and  snares  for  us  ;  in 
our  table,  in  our  bed,  in  our  company,  and 
alone.  If  the  heart  be  earthly  and  carnal, 
there  is  the  snare  of  riches  and  gains,  or 
pleasures  present,  to  think  upon:  and  if  it 
delight  in  spiritual  things,  that  walk  is  not 
exempted  either  ;  there  are  snares  of  doubt- 
ings,  presumption,  and  pride.  And  in  the 
converse  of  one  Christian  with  another, 
where  spiritual  affection  hath  been  stirred, 
it  turns  often  to  carnal  passions  ;  as  the  apes' 
tie  says  of  the  Galatians,  they  hegiii  in  the 
sj/irtt  and  end  in  the  fesh.  Gal.  iii.  3. 

This  observing  and  watching,  as  it  is  need- 
ful, so  it  is  a  very  delightful  thing,  though  it 
will  be  hard  and  painful  to  the  unexperien- 
ced. To  have  a  man's  actions  and  words 
continually  curbed,  so  that  he  can  not  speak 
or  do  what  he  would,— these  are  fetters  and 


vTer.  1.] 


ON  PSALM  XXXIX. 


287 


honds  ;  yet,  to  those  that  know  it,  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  gain  experience,  and  to  be  more 
skilled  in  preventing  the  surprises  of  our  en- 
emies, and  upon  that  to  have  something  add- 
ed to  our  own  art,  and  to  he  more  able  to  re- 
sist upon  new  occasions,  and  to  find  ourselves 
every  day  outstripping  ourselves.  That  is 
the  sweetest  life  in  the  world,  for  the  soul  to 
be  dressing  itself  for  the  espousals  of  the 
great  King,  putting  on  more  of  the  ornaments 
and  beauties  of  holiness.  That  is  our  glory, 
to  be  made  conformable  to  the  image  of  God, 
and  of  Jesus  Christ.  If  an  image  had  sense, 
it  would  desire  nothing  so  much  as  to  look  on 
the  original  whence  it  received  its  name,  and 
to  become  more  and  more  like  it :  so  it  is  the 
pleasure  of  renewed  souls,  to  be  looking  on 
him,  and  to  be  growing  daily  more  like  him, 
whose  living  image  they  are,  and  to  be  fit- 
ting themselves  for  that  day  of  glory  wherein 
they  shall  be  like  him  in  the  perfection  thev 
are  capable  of  And  this  makes  death  more 
pleasant  than  life  to  the  believer:  that  which 
seems  so  bitter  to  the  most  of  men,  is  sweet- 
ened to  them  most  wonderfully.  The  contin- 
ual observance  of  a  man's  ways,  the  keeping 
a  watch  continually  over  ihem,  this  casts  a 
light  upon  the  dark  passage  of  death,  which 
is  at  the  end  of  that  walk,  and  conveys  him 
through  to  the  fullness  of  lift;.  So  that  the 
man  who  observes  himself  and  his  ways 
through  life,  hath  little  to  do  in  examining 
them  when  he  comes  to  die.  It  is  a  piece  of 
strange  folly,  that  we  defer  the  whole,  or  a 
great  part  of  our  day's  work,  to  the  twilight 
of  the  evening,  and  are  so  cruel  to  ourselves, 
as  to  keep  the  great  load  oi'  our  life  for  a  few 
hours  or  days,  and  for  a  pained,  sickly  body. 
He  who  makes  it  his  daily  work  to  observe 
his  ways,  is  not  astonished  when  that  day 
comes,  which  long  before  was  familiar  to  him 
every  day. 

That  I  sin  not  with  my  tongne.~\  It  is  the 
Wise  man's  advice.  Keep  thy  hi-art  with  nil 
diligence^  or,  above  all  keeping  ;  and  he  gives 
the  satisfying  reason  of  it,  for  out  of  it  are 
the  issues  of  life.  Prov.  iv.  23.  Such  as  the 
spring  is,  so  will  the  streams  bt.  The  heart 
is  the  spring  whence  all  the  natural  life  and 
vital  spirits  flow  through  the  body  ;  and,  in 
the  Scripture  sense,  it  is  the  spring  of  all  our 
actions  and  conversation;  for  it  sends  out 
emissaries  through  all,  through  the  eye,  the 
hand,  and  all  the  senses  and  organs  of  the 
body,  but  through  none  more  constantly  and 
abundantly  than  the  tongue  ;  and  therefore 
Solomon,  after  these  words,  immediately 
adds,  Put  nxuatf  from  thee  a  frownrd  mouth, 
and  perverse  lips  put  far  from  thee.  The 
currant  of  the  heart  runs  in  that  channel  ; 
for  it  is  the  organ  of  societies,  and  iscommon- 
ly  employed  in  all  the  converse  of  men.  And 
we  can  still,  when  all  the  other  members  are 
useless, use  our  tonccues  in  regretting  their  un- 
fitness for  their  offices  :  as  sick  and  old  per- 
sons are  wont  to  do.  Thus  David  here,  as  it 
seems,  under  some  bodily  sickness,  labors  to 


refrain  his  tongue,  and  lest  it  should  prove 
too  strong  for  him,  he  puts  a  curb  upon  it 
though  it  did  not  free  him  from  inwaid  fret" 
tings  of  his  heart,  yet  he  lays  a  restraint  up- 
on his  tongue,  to  stay  the  progress  of  sin, 
that  grows  in  vigor  by  going  out,  and  pro- 
duces and  begets  sin  of  the  same  kind  in  the 
hearts  and  mouths  of  others,  when  it  passes 
from  the  heart  to  the  tongue.  The  Apostle 
James  does  amply  and  excellently  teach  the 
great  importance  of  ordering  the  tongue  in 
all  a  Christian's  life.  But  we  are  ever  learn- 
ing, and  never  taught.  We  hear  how  excel- 
lent a  guard  this  is  to  our  lives,  to  keep  a  watch 
over  our  tongues  ;  but,  I  fear,  few  of  us  gain 
the  real  advantage  of  this  rule.  We  are  far 
from  the  serious  thoughts  that  a  religious 
person  had  of  this  scripture,  who,  when  he 
heard  it  read,  withdrew  himself  for  many 
years  to  the  study  of  this  precept,  and  made 
very  good  proficiency  in  it. 

In  all  the  disorders  of  the  world,  the  tongue 
hath  a  great  share.  To  let  pass  those  irrup- 
tions of  infernal  furies,  blasphemies  and  curs- 
ing, lying  and  uncharitable  speeches,  bow 
much  have  we  to  account  for  unprofitable 
talking  !  It  is  a  lamentable  thing,  that  there 
is  nothing,  for  the  most  part,  in  common  en- 
tertainments and  societies  of  men  together, 
but  refuse  and  trash  ;  as  if  their  tongues 
were  given  them  for  no  other  end  than  to  be 
their  shame,  by  discovering  their  folly  and 
weakness  !  So  likewise  that  of  imjjatient 
speech  in  trouble  and  affliction,  which  cer- 
tainly springs  from  an  unmortified  spirit,  that 
hath  learned  nothing  of  that  great  lesson  of 
submission  to  the  will  of  God.  But  for  all 
the  disorders  of  the  tongue,  the  remedy  must 
begin  at  the  heart.  Purge  the  fountain,  and 
then  the  streams  will  be  clean.  Keep  thy 
heart,  and  then  it  will  be  easy  to  keep  thy 
tongue.  It  is  a  great  help  in  the  quality  of 
speech,  to  abate  in  the  quantity  ;  not  to  speak 
rashly,  but  to  ponder  what  we  are  going  to 
say.  Set  a  toalch  before  the  door  of  thy  lips. 
Psalm  cxli.  3.  He  bids  us  not  build  it  uj)  like 
a  stone  wall,  that  nothing  may  go  in  or  come 
out,  but  he  speaks  (jf  a  door,  which  may  be 
sometimes  open,  oft-times  shut,  but  withal, 
to  have  a  watch  standing  before  it  continual- 
ly. A  Christian  must  labor  to  have  his 
speech  as  contracted  as  can  be,  in  the  things 
of  tiiis  earth  :  and  even  in  divine  things,  our 
words  should  be  few  and  wary.  In  speaking 
of  the  greatest  things,  it  is  a  great  point  of 
wisdom  not  to  speak  much.  T\\;iX  is  David's 
resolution,  to  keep  silence,  esjjecially  before 
the  wicked,  who  came  to  visit  him,  probably, 
when  he  was  sick  :  while  they  were  there,  he 
h'ld  a  watch  before  his  lips,  to  speak  nothing 
of  God's  hand  on  him,  lest  they  should  have 
mistaken  him.  And  a  man  may  have  some 
I  thoughts  of  divine  things,  that  it  were  very 
I  impertinent  to  sneak  out  indifferently  to  all 
1  sorts  even  of  good  persons.  This  is  a  talka- 
tive age,  and  people  contract  a  faculty  tc 
speak  much  in  matters  of  religions,  thougL 


388 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURES 


[liECT.  Il 


their  words  for  toe  most  part  be  only  tlie  pro- 
ductions of  their  own  l)rain  ;  little  of  tiiese 
tilings  in  their  hearts.  Surely,  speeches  of 
this  kiiul  are  as  bad  as  any,  when  holy  things 
are  spoTcen  of  with  a  notional  freedom,  where 
there  is  nothing  but  empty  words.  They 
who  take  theniselves  to  solitude,  choose  the 
best  and  easiest  part,  if  they  have  a  warrant 
so  to  do  ;  for  this  world  is  a  tempestuous  sea, 
in  which  there  are  many  rocks,  and  a  great 
dilhculty  it  is  to  steer  this  little  helm  aright 
amidst  them.  However,  the  Apostle  James 
makes  it  a  great  character  of  a  Christian's 
peri'ection :  Jf  any  man  offend  not  in  word, 
the  same  is  a  perfect  man.  Jam.  iii.  2.  But 
where  is  that  man  ?  Seeing  we  find  men 
generally,  and  most  of  all  ourselves,  so  far 
from  this,  it  can  not  choose  but  work  this,  to 
stir  uj)  ardent  desires  in  us,  to  be  removed  to 
that  blessed  society  where  there  shall  be 
never  a  word  amiss,  nor  a  word  loo  much. 


LECTURE  IL 

Veh.  2.  I  was  dumb  with  silence  ;  I  held  my  peace 
even  from  good  ;  aiid  my  sorrow  was  stirred. 

Veh.  3.  My  heart  was  hot  within  me  ;  while  I  was 
musing,  the  fire  burned :  then  spake  1  with  my 
tongue. 

It  is  a  very  useful  and  profitable  thing,  to 
observe  the  motions  and  deportments  of  the 
spirits  of  wise  and  holy  men,  in  all  the  various 
postures  and  conditions  they  are  in.  It  is  for 
that  purpose  they  are  drawn  out  to  us  in  the 
Scriptures.  There  are  some  graces  that  are 
more  proper,  and  come  more  in  action,  in 
times  of  ease  and  prosperity,  such  as  temper- 
ance, moderation  of  mind,  humility,  and  com- 
passion. Others  are  more  proper  for  times  of 
distress,  as  faith,  fortitude,  patience,  and  res- 
ignation. It  is  very  expedient,  if  not  necessa- 
ry, that  affliction  have  its  turns,  and  frequent- 
ly, in  t!ie  lives  of  the  children  of  God  ;  it  is 
the  tempest,  that  gives  evidence  of  the  pilot's 
skill.  And  as  the  Lord  delighteth  in  all  his 
works,  looks  on  the  frame  and  conduct  of  all 
things  with  pleasure,  so  he  is  delighted  to 
look  on  this  part,  on  this  low  sea  of  troubles, 
to  see  his  champions  meet  with  hard  and 
pressing  trials,  such  as  sometimes  do  not  only 
make  tlieni  feel  them,  but  do  often  make  the 
conflict  dubious  to  them,  so  that  they  seem 
to  be  almost  foiled,  yet  do  they  acquit  them- 
selves, and  come  off  with  honor.  It  is  not 
the  excellency  of  grace,  to  be  insensible  in 
trouble  (as  some  philosophers  would  have 
their  wise  men),  but  to  overcome  and  be  vic- 
torious. 

Among  the  rest  of  this  holy  man's  troubles, 
this  was  one,  that  the  wicked  did  reproach 
him.  This  is  a  sharp  arrow  that  flies  thick 
in  the  world.  It  is  one  of  the  sharpest  stings 
of  poverty,  that,  as  it  is  pinched  with  wants 
at  home,  so  it  is  met  with  scorn  abroad.  It 
is  reckoned  among  the  sharp  suflering,  of  holy 


men,  Ileb.  xi.  36,  that  they  suffered  hitter 
7nockings.  Now,  men  commonly  return  these 
in  the  same  kind,  that  is,  by  the  tongue, 
whereof  David  is  here  aware.  He  refrain? 
himself  even  from  good  ;  not  only  from  his 
just  defence,  but  even  from  good  and  pious 
discourses.  We  do  so  easily  exceed  in  our 
words,  that  it  is  better  sometimes  to  be  whol- 
ly silent,  than  to  speak  that  which  is  good: 
for  our  good  borders  so  near  upon  evil,  and  sc 
easy  is  the  transition  from  the  one  to  the  oiher, 
that  though  we  begin  to  speak  of  God  ar.«d 
good  things  with  a  good  intention,  yet  how 
quickly  run  we  into  another  channel !  Passion 
and  self  having  stolen  in,  turn  us  quite  from 
the  first  design  of  our  speech.  And  this  chiefly 
in  disputes  and  debates  about  religion,  where- 
in, though  we  begin  with  zeal  for  God,  yet, 
oft-times  in  the  end,  we  justify  nothing  but 
our  own  passion  ;  and  sometimes  we  do  lie 
one  against  another  in  defence  of  what  we 
call  the  truth. 

It  can  not  be  denied,  that  to  a  holy  heart, 
it  is  a  great  violence  to  be  shut  up  altogether 
from  the  speech  of  God.  It  burns  witl.-'n, 
especially  in  the  time  of  affliction-,  as  was  the 
case  of  Jeremiaii:  Then  I  said,  1  will  not  make 
mention  of  him,  nor  speak  any  more  in  his 
name  :  but  his  word  was  in  my  heart  as  a  burn- 
ing  fire  shut  up  in  my  bones,  and  1  was  weary 
with  forbearing,  and  could  not  stay.  Jer.  xx.  9. 
So  is  it  here  with  David  ;  therefore  he  breaks 
out :  the  fire  burns  upward,  and  he  speaks  to 
God. 

Let  this  be  our  way,  when  we  can  not  find 
east  among  men,  to  seek  it  in  God.  He  knows 
the  language  of  his  children,  and  will  not 
mistake  it ;  yea,  where  there  may  be  some- 
what  of  weakness  and  distemper,  he  will  bear 
with  it.  In  all  your  distresses,  in  all  your 
meanings,  go  to  him,  pour  out  your  tears  to 
him.  Not  only  fire,  but  even  water,  where  it 
wants  a  vent,  will  break  upward.  These 
tears  drop  not  in  our  own  lap,  but  they  fall  on 
his,  and  he  hath  a  bottle  to  put  them  in :  if  ye 
empty  them  there,  they  shall  return  in  wine 
of  strong  consolation. 

Ver.  4.  Now  David's  request  is,  Lord,  make 
me  to  know  mine  end,  and  the  measure  of  my 
days,  what  it  is  ;  that  1  may  know  how  frail  1 
am.  In  which  he  does  not  desire  a  response 
from  God  about  the  day  of  his  death,  but  in- 
struction concerning  the  frailty  and  shortness 
of  his  life.  But  did  not  David  know  this? 
Yes,  he  knew  it,  and  yet  he  desires  to  know 
it.  It  is  very  fit  we  should  ask  of  God  that 
he  would  make  us  to  know  the  things  that 
we  do  know  ;  I  mean,  that  what  we  know 
emptily  and  barely,  we  may  know  spiritually 
and  fruitfully,  and  if  there  be  any  measure  of 
this  knowledge,  that  it  may  increase  and  grow 
more  We  know  that  we  are  sinners,  but 
that  knowledge  commonly  produces  nothing 
but  cold,  dry,  and  senseless  confusion  :  but 
the  right  knowledge  of  sin  would  prick  our 
hearts,  and  cause  us  to  pour  them  out  before 
1  the  Lord.    We  know  that  Jesus  is  the  Savior 


Ver.  2,  3.] 


OF  PSALM  XXXIX. 


38$ 


of  sinners ;  it  were  fit  to  pray  that  we  mi^ht  ' 
know  more  of  him,  so  much  of  him  as  might  , 
make  us  shape  and  fashion  our  hearts  to  his  j 
likeness.    We  know  we  must  die,  and  thai 
it  is  no  Ion?  course  to  the  utmost  period  of  | 
life  ;  yet  our  hearts  are  little  instructed  by  this 
knowledge.    How  great  need  have  we  to  pray  \ 
this  prayer  witli  David  here,  or  that  with 
Moses,   Teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  I 
we  may  ap-ply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom.  Psalm 
xc.  12.    Did  we  indeed  know  and  consider 
how  quickly  we  shall  pass  hence,  it  were 
not  possible  for  us  to  cleave  so  fast  to  the 
things  of  this  life,  and,  as  foolish  children,  to 
wade  in  ditches,  and  fill  our  laps  with  mire  ! 
and  dirt :  to  prefer  base  earth  and  flesh  to  j 
immortality  and  glory.  I 

That  I  may  know  how  frail  I  am.]  Most 
part  of  men  are  foolish,  inconsiderate  crea- 
tures, like  unto  the  very  hensts  that  perish, 
Psalm  xlix.  12,  only  they  are  capable  of  great- 
er vanity  and  misery  ;  but,  in  as  irrational  a 
way,  they  toil  on  and  hurry  themselves  in  a 
multitudeof  business,  by  multitudesof  debires, 
fears,  and  hopes,  and  know  not  whither  all 
tends.  But  one  well-advised  thought  of  this 
one  thing,  would  temper  them  in  their  hottest 
pursuits,  if  they  would  but  tliink  how  frail 
they  are,  how  vain  a  passing  thing,  not  only 
these  their  particular  desires  and  projects  are, 
but  they  themselves,  and  their  whole  life. 
David  prays  that  he  may  know  his  end,  and 
his  prayer  is  answered  ;  Behold,  thou  hnst 
made  my  days  as  a  hand-hreadth.  If  we  were 
more  in  requests  of  this  kind,  we  should  re- 
ceive more  speedy  and  certain  answers.  If 
this  be  our  request,  to  know  ourselves,  our 
frailties  and  vanity,  we  shall  know  that  our 
days  are  few  and  evil,  know  both  the  brevity 
and  vanity  of  them. 

'/er.  5.  Thou  hast  measured  out  mi/  d<ii/s 
as  a  hand-breadth.  That  is  one  of  the  shortest 
measures.  We  need  not  long  lines  to  meas- 
ure our  lives  by  :  each  one  carries  a  measure 
about  with  him,  his  own  hand  ;  that  is  the 
longest  and  fullest  measure.  It  is  not  so  much 
as  a  span:  that  might  possibly  have  been  the 
measure  of  old  age  in  the  infancy  of  the  world, 
but  now  it  is  contracted  to  a  han'd-breadtii,  and 
that  is  the  longest.  But  how  many  fall  slnirt 
of  that  !  Many  attain  not  to  a  finger-breadth  : 
multitudes  pass  from  th<.  womb  to  the  grave; 
and  how  many  end  their  course  within  the 
com[)ass  of  childhood  ! 

Whether  we  take  this  hand-breadth  for  the 
fourscore  years  thai  is  ordinarily  the  utmost 
extent  of  man's  life  in  our  days,  or  the  four 
l>eriods  of  our  age,  in  which  we  use  to  distin- 
guish it,  childhood,  youth,  manhood,  and  old 
aare,  there  are  great  numbers  we  see  take  up 
their  lodging  ere  they  come  near  the  last  of 
any  of  these,  and  few  attain  to  the  outtnost 
border  of  ihem.  All  of  us  are  but  a  hand- 
Dreadth  from  death,  and  not  so  much  ;  for 
many  of  us  have  passed  a  great  part  of  that 
hand-breadth  already,  and  we  know  not  how 
.ittle  of  it  is  behind.    We  use  commonly  to 


divide  our  lives  by  years,  months,  weeks,  and 
days,  but  it  is  all  but  one  day  ;  there  is  the 
morning,  noon,  afternoon,  and  evening.  Man 
is  as  the  grass  that  springs  in  the  morning. 
Psalm  xc.  5.  As  for  all  the  days  that  are 
passed  of  our  life,  death  hath  them  rather 
than  we,  and  they  are  already  in  its  posses- 
sion. When  we  look  back  on  them,  they  ap- 
pear but  as  a  shadow  or  dream  :  and  if  they 
be  so  to  us,  how  much  more  short  are  they  in 
the  sight  of  God  !  So  says  David  here  :  When 
I  look  on  thee  and  thy  eternity,  mine  age  is 
as  nothing  before  thee.  What  is  our  life,  be- 
ing compared  to  God,  before  whom  a  thousand 
years  are  but  as  one  day  '.  And  it  is  less — like 
yesterday  when  it  is  past,  and  that  is  but  a 
thought !  The  whole  duration  of  the  world 
is  but  a  point  in  respect  to  eternity  ;  and  how 
small  a  point  is  the  life  of  man,  even  in  com- 
parison with  that  ! 

The  brevity  of  our  life  is  a  very  useful  con- 
sideration. From  it  we  may  learn  patience 
under  all  our  crosses  and  troubles  ;  they  may 
be  shorter  than  life,  but  they  can  be  no  longer. 
There  are  few  whom  an  affliction  hath  lain 
on  all  the  days  of  their  life  ;  but  though  that 
were  the  jase,  yet  a  little  time,  and  how 
quickly  is  it  done  !  While  thou  art  asleep, 
there  is  a  cessation  of  thy  trouble  ;  and  when 
awake,  bemoaning  and  weeping  for  it,  and 
for  sin  that  is  the  cause  of  it,  in  the  mean 
time  it  is  sliding  away.  In  all  the  bitter  blasts 
that  blow  on  thy  face,  thou  who  art  a  Chris- 
tian indeed,  mayst  conifurt  thyself  in  the 
thought  of  the  good  1  idging  that  is  before 
thee.  To  others,  it  were  the  greatest  com- 
fort, that  their  afflicti(;ns  in  this  life  were 
lengthened  out  to  eternity. 

Likewise,  this  n>ay  teach  us  temperance  ia 
those  things  that  are  called  the  good  thiniis  of 
this  world.  Though  a  man  had  a  lease  of  all 
the  fine  things  the  world  can  afford  for  his 
whole  life  (which  yet  never  any  man  that  I 
know  of  had),  what  is  it  ?  A  feigned  dream 
of  an  hour  long.  None  of  those  things  that 
it  now  lakes  so  much  delight  it,  will  accom- 
pany the  cold  lump  of  clay  to  the  grave. 
Wiiiiin  a  little  while,  those  that  are  married 
and  rejoice,  shall  be  as  if  thei/  rejoiced  not, 
1  Cor.  vii.  29,  as  if  they  never  iiad  done  it; 
and  since  they  shall  be  so  quickly,  a  wise  man 
makes  little  difference,  in  these  things,  be- 
tween their  presence  and  their  absence. 

This  thought  should  also  teach  us  diligence 
in  our  business.  We  have  a  short  day,  and 
much  to  do  ;  it  were  fit  to  be  up  early  ;  to  re- 
member thy  Greater  in  the  days  of  thy  youth. 
And  ye  that  are  come  to  riper  years,  be  ad- 
vised to  lay  hold  on  what  remains  ;  ye  know 
I  not  how  little  it  is. 

The  more  you  fill  yourselves  with  the  things 
of  this  life,  the  less  desire  you  will  have  after 
those  rubers  of  pleasure  that  are  at  (iod's  right 
j  hand.  These  shall  never  run  dry,  but  all 
those  other  things  shall  i)e  dried  up  within  a 
little  space  ;  at  the  furthest,  when  old  age  and 
I  death  come,  if  not  sooner.    And  on  the  other 


590 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURES 


[Lect.  n. 


side,  the  Tiore  wp  deny  ourselves  the  sensual 
enjc/vnu'i  is  of  the  prisenl  world,  wc  sjrow 
the  lilcer  to  that  Divine  esiaie,  and  are  made 
the  surer  ol  it.  And  I  am  sure,  ail  will  <*rant 
that  iliis  is  a  very  gainful  exciiange. 

Vt  ri/y,  even/  man  at  his  best  estale  is  al- 
tvficl/ur  ranili/.]  It  is  no  wonder  that  tlie 
generality  of  men  are  strangers  to  God,  for 
they  are  strangers  to  themselves.  The  cure 
ol  boili  these  evils  is  from  the  same  hand. 
He  alone  can  teach  us  what  he  is,  and  what 
we  are  ourselves.  All  know  and  see  that 
>heir  life  is  short,  and  themselves  vanity  ;  but 
this  holy  man  thought  it  needful  to  ask  the 
true  notion  of  it  from  above,  and  he  receives 
the  measure  of  his  life,  even  a  haiid-brcodth. 
There  is  a  common  imposture  among  people, 
to  read  their  fortunes  by  their  hands  :  but  this 
is  true  palmistry  indeed,  to  read  the  shortness 
of  our  life  upon  the  palms  of  our  hands. 

Our  days  are  not  only  few,  but  we  our- 
selves are  vanity.  Every  man,  even  a  godly 
man,  as  he  is  a  partaker  of  this  life,  is  not 
exem[)ted  from  vanity  :  nay,  he  knows  it  bet- 
ter than  any  otiier  :  but  this  thought  comforts 
him,  that  he  hath  begun  that  life  which  is 
above  and  beyond  all  vanity.  The  words  are 
weighty  and  full.  It  is  not  a  problem,  or  a 
doubtful  thing,  but,  si/re/?/,  every  man  is  vani- 
ty. 1  may  call  it  a  definition,  and  so  it  is 
proved.  Psalm  cxliv.  2,  3  :  What  is  man  ?  He 
IS  tike  to  vanity,  and  his  days  are  as  a  shadow 
that  pas.-<es  awuy.  His  days  do  not  only  soon 
decline  and  pass  away  as  a  shadow,  but  also 
they  are/ike  vanity.  While  he  appears  to  be 
something,  he  is  nothing  but  the  figure  and 
picture  of  vanity.  He  is  like  it.  not  the  copy 
of  it,  but  rather  the  original  and  idea  of  it,  for 
he  hath  derived  vanity  to  the  whole  creation  : 
he  hath  sulnecied  thi-  cn-aturcs  to  it,  and  hath 
thrown  such  a  load  of  it  upon  them,  that  they 
groan  under  it  ;  and  so,  vanity  agrees  to  him 
properly,  constantly,  and  universally.  Every 
man,  and  that  at  his  best  estate,  or,  as  the 
Word  is,  in  his  settled  and  fixed  state.  Set 
him  as  sure  and  as  high  as  you  will,  yet  he 
is  not  above  that ;  he  carried  it  about  with 
him  as  he  does  his  nature. 

This  is  a  very  profitable  truth  lo  think  on, 
though  some  kind  of  hearers,  even  of  the  bet- 
ter sort,  would  judge  il  more  profitable  to 
hear  of  cases  of  conscience.  But  this  is  a 
great  case  of  conscience,  to  consider  it  well, 
and  carry  the  impression  of  it  home  with  you 
on  your  hearts — the  extreme  vanity  of  our- 
selves; that  we  are  nothing  but  vanity.  And 
the  note  that  is  added  here,  F<rlah.  if  it  import 
port  anything  to  the  sense  and  confirmation  of 
what  it  isadded  to,  il  agrees  well  to  this  :  but  if 
it  be  only  a  musical  note,  to  direct,  as  some 
think,  theelevation,  or  according  to  others,  the 
failing  of  the  voice,  it  fits  the  sense  very  well. 
For  you  .lave  man  here  lifted  up  and  cast 
domi  again  :  lifted  up — Man  at  his  best  es- 
tale, and  from  that  thrown  down  to  nothing, 
even  in  that  estate,  altnirnther  vanity.  What 
is  that  ?  It  is,  as  the  word  signifies,  an  earth- 


ly vapor,  and  it  is  generally  used  to  signify 
1  things  of  the  least  and  meanest  use,  the  most 
'  empty,  airy  things.    So  idols  are  often  called 
'  by  that  name  :  they  are  nothing  in  resi)ect  (;f 
j  what  IS  attributed  to  them  by  the  children  of 
'  men.    And  such  a  thing  is  man  :  he  seems  tc 
be  something,  and  is,  indeed,  nothing :  as  it  is 
Psalm  Ixii.  9  :  Men  of  low  decree  are  vanity 
[ — possibly  that  may  be  granted  for  a  truth, 
and  ihey  pass  for  such,  but  he  adds — Men  of 
hisih  dt's;ree  arc  a  lie:  they  projnise  some- 
'  thing,  and  look  bigger  like,  but  they  are  noth- 
ing more,  except  this,  a  lie  ;  and  the  greater 
[  they  are,  the  louder  the  lie. 
[     This  it  is,  then,  that  we  should  acquaint 
ourselves  with  :  that  man,  in  this  present 
life,  in  all  the  high  advantages  of  it,  is  an 
empty,  feeble,  fading  ihitig.    If  we  look  tc 
J  the  frame  of  man's  body,  what  is  he  but  a 
]  muddy  wall,  a  hovse  of  Jay,  whose  founda- 
tion is  in  the  dust  ?  If  we  look  within,  there 
is  nothing  there  but  a  sink  and  heap  of  filth. 
The  body  of  man  is  not  only  sulyect  to  fevers, 
hectics,  Sec,  that  make  the  wall  to  moulder 
down,  but  take  him  in  his  health  and  strength, 
what  is  he  but  a  bag  of  rottenness  1  And  why 
should  he  take  delight  in  his  beauty,  which 
is  but  the  appearance  of  a  thing,  which  a  fit 
I  of  sickness  will  so  easily  deface,  or  the  run- 
j  ning  of  a  few  years  spoil  the  fashion  of?  A 
1  great  heat  or  a  cold  puts  that  frame  into  dis- 
j  order  ;  a  few  days'  sickness  lays  him  in  the 
dust,  or  much  blood  gathered  within,  gathers 
fevers  and  pleurisies,  and  so  destroys  that  lii'e 
'  it  should  maintain  :  or  a  fly  or  a  crumb  of 
I  bread  may  stop  his  breath,  and  so  end  his  days. 

If  we  consider  men  in  societies,  in  cities 
[  and  towns,  often  hath  the  overflowing  scourge 
j  of  famine  and  pestilence  laid  thetu  waste  ; 
I  and  from  these  they  can  not  secure  ihem- 
!  selves  in  their  greatest  plenty  and  health,  but 
I  they  come  on  a  sudden,  and  unlooked  for.  If 
we  could  see  all  the  parts  and  persons  in  a 
I  great  city  at  once,  how  many  woes  and  mis- 
I  eries  should  we  behold  there  !    How  many 
i  either  want  bread,  or  scarcely  have  it  by  hard 
I  labor  !  Then,  to  hear  the  groans  of  dying  per- 
j  sons,  and  the  sighs  and  weepings  of  those 
[  about  them — how  many  of  these  things  are 
within  the  walls  of  great  cities  at  all  times  ! 
Great  palaces  can  not  keep  out  death,  but  it 
breaks  through  and  enters  there,  and  thither, 
oft-times,  the  most  painful  and  shameful  dis- 
eases that  are  incident  to  the  sons  of  men,  re- 
sort. *Deatii  by  vermin,  hath  seized  on  some 
'  of  the  greatest  of  kings  that  have  ever  been  in 
the  world.    If  we  look  on  generals  who  have 
commanded  the  greatest  armies,  they  carry 
about  with  them  poor  frail  bodies  as  well  as  oth- 
ers :  they  may  be  killed  with  one  small  wojnd 
as  well  as  the  meanest  soldier  ;  and  a  few  days' 
intemperance  haih  taken  some  of  the  mos' 
gallant  and  courageous  of  them  away  in  the 
'  midst  of  their  success.    And,  sure  I  am,  he 
who  believes  and  considers  the  life  to  come, 
and  looks  on  this,  and  sees  what  it  is,  makes 
little  account  of  those  things  thai  have  so  big 


Ver.  6.] 


ON  PSALM  XXXIX. 


391 


a  sound  in  the  world :  the  revolutions  of  slates, 
crowns,  kingdoms,  cities,  towns,  how  poor,  in- 
considerable things  are  they,  being  compared 
with  eternity  !  And  he  that  looks  not  on  them 
a-s  such,  is  a  fool. 


LECTURE  in. 

Ver.  6.  Surely  every  man  walketh  in  a  vain  show ; 
surely  they  are  disquieted  in  vain  :  he  heapeth  up 
riches,  and  linoweth  not  who  shall  gather  them. 

There  is  a  part  of  our  hand-breadth  past 
cilice  we  last  left  ihis  place,  and,  as  we  are  say- 
ng  this,  we  are  wearing  out  some  portion  of 
the  rest  of  it.  It  were  well  if  we  considered 
this,  so  as  to  make  a  better  improvement  of 
what  remains,  than,  I  believe  we  shall  find, 
upon  examination  uf  our  ways,  we  have  made  , 
jf  what  is  past.  Let  us  see  if  we  can  gain 
the  space  of  an  hour,  that  we  may  be  exciied 
to  a  better  management  of  the  latter  part  of 
our  time,  than  we  have  made  of  the  former.  | 

We  are  ail,  I  think,  convinced  of  the  vanity  ; 
of  man,  as  to  his  ou-tside,  that  he  is  a  feeble, 
weak,  poor  creature  ;  but  we  may  have  hope  | 
of  somewhat  better  in  that  which  is  the  man  ; 
indeed,  his  mind  and  intellectual  part.    It  is 
true,  tliat  that  was  originally  excellent,  and 
that  there  is  somewhat  of  a  radical  excellency 
still  in  the  soul  pf  man  ;  yet,  it  is  so  desper- 
ately degenerate,  that,  naturally,  man,  even 
in  that  consideration,  is  a/louclhcr  vanity,  in 
all  the  pieces  of  him  :  his  mind  is  hut  a 
heap   of  vanity,  nothing   there  but  igno- 
rance, folly,  and  disorder.    And  if  we  tliink 
not  so,  we  are  the  more  foolish  and  ignorant. 
That  which  passes  with  great  pomp,  under  j 
the  title  ol  /c/ and  4X(e/ice,  is  commonly 
nothing  else  than  a  rhapsody  of  words  and 
empty  tertas,  which  have  nothing  in  them 
to  make  known  the  internal  nature  of  things. 

But  even  those  persons  who  have  the  im- 
provement of  learning  and  education,  who  j 
Understand  the  model  and  government  of  af- 
fairs, who  sec   'heir  defects,  and  entertain 
themselves  with  rarious  shapes  of  amending 
and  reforming  ihem,  even  in  them  we  shall 
find  nothing  but   a  sadder  and  more  seri- 
ous vanity.    It  is  a  t(;rmenting  and  vexing 
thing  for  men  to  promise  to  themselves  great 
reforinaiion  and  bettering  of  things.  That 
thought  usually  deludes  the  wisest  of  men; 
they  must  at  length  come  to  that  conclusion 
of  Solomon,  after  much  labor  to  little  pur- 
pose, that  crnolced  things  can  not  be  made, 
straurhi,  Eccles.  i.  15.    Yea,  many  things  j 
grow  worse  by  laboring  to  rectify  them;] 
therefore  he  add.s,  verse  18,  And  he  that  ni-  \ 
trensilh  knowled  '_re.,  increaseth  sorrow.  [ 

As  for  knowledge  in  religion,  we  see  the' 
greatest  part  of  ihe  world  lying  in  gross  dark- ! 
ness ;  and  even  among  Christians,  how  much 
ignorance  of  these  things:  which  appears  in 
this,  that  there  are  such  swarms  and  produc- 
tions oi' debates  and  contentions,  that  they  are 
grown  past  number.    And  each  party  is  con-  ^ 


fident  that  truth  it  m  lis  side  ;  and  ordinarily 
the  most  ignorant  and  erroneous  are  the  most 
confident  and  most  imperious  -in  their  deter- 
minations. Surely  it  were  a  great  part  of  our 
wisdom  to  free  our  spirits  from  these  empty 
fruitless  jangliugs  that  abound  in  the  Chris- 
tian world. 

It  were  an  endless  toil  to  go  through  all  de. 
grees,  professions,  and  employments  of  men 
in  the  world ;  we  may  go  through  nations, 
countries,  crafts,  schools,  colleges,  courts, 
camps,  councils  of  state,  and  parliaments,  and 
find  nothing  in  all  these  but  still  more  of  this 
trouble  and  vexation  in  a  finer  dress  and  fash- 
ion, altogether  vanity  ! 

Every  man  walketh  in  a  vain  aAow.]  His 
walk  is  nothing  but  a  going  on  in  continual 
vanity,  adding  a  new  stock  of  vanity,  of  his 
own  coining,  to  what  he  has  already  within, 
and  vexation  of  s[)irit  woven  all  along  in  with 
it.  He  walks  in  an  image,  as  the  word  is  ; 
converses  with  things  of  no  riaiity,  and  which 
have  no  solidity  in  them,  and  he  himself  has 
as  little.  He  himself  is  a  walking  image,  in 
the  midst  of  these  images.  They  who  are 
taken  with  the  conceit  of  images  and  pictures, 
that  is  an  emblem  of  their  own  life,  and  of  all 
other  men's  also.  Every  man's  fancy  is  to 
himself  a  gallery  of  pictures,  and  there  he 
walks  up  and  down,  and  considers  not  how 
vain  these  are,  and  how  vain  a  thing  he  him- 
eelf  is. 

My  brethren,  they  are  liappy  persons  (but 
few  are  they  in  number),  who  are  truly  wean- 
ed from  all  th(jse  images  and  fancies  the 
world  dotes  so  much  upon.  If  many  of  the 
children  of  men  would  turn  their  own  thoughts 
backward  in  the  evening  but  of  one  day,  what 
would  they  find  for  the  most  part,  but  that 
they  have  been  walking  among  these  pic- 
tures, and  passing  from  one  vanity  to  anoth- 
er, and  back  again  to  and  fro,  to  as  little  pur- 
pose as  the  running  up  and  down  of  children 
at  their  play!  He  who  runs  after  honor, 
pleasure,  pojjular  esteem, — what  do  you 
think  ?  Does  not  that  man  walk  in  an 
image,  pursuing  after  that  which  hath  no 
other  being  than  what  the  opinion  and  fancy 
(jf  men  give  to  it  ? — especially  the  last,  which 
is  a  thing  so  fluctuating,  uncertain,  and  incon- 
stant, that  while  he  hath  it,  he  bath  nothing  ? 
The  other  image  that  man  folhjws  and  wor- 
sliii)s,  is  that  in  the  text,  that  wretched  mad- 
ness of  heaping  up  riches.  This  is  the  great 
foolishness  and  disease  especially  of  old  age, 
that  the  less  way  a  man  has  to  go,  he  makes 
the  greater  provision  for  it.  When  the  hands 
are  stiff,  and  fit  for  no  other  labor,  they  are 
fitted  and  composed  for  scra[)ing  together. 
But  for  what  end  dcjsl  thou  take  all  tliis  pains? 
If  for  thyself,  a  little  sober  care  will  do  thy 
turn,  if  thy  desires  be  sober  ;  and  if  not  so,  thy 
diligence  were  better  bestowed  in  im|)airing 
and  diininisliing  of  these;  that  is  the  easier 
way  a  great  deal.  And  if  it  be  for  others, 
why  dost  thou  take  a  certain  unease  to  thy 
self,  for  tlie  uncertain  ease  of  others  ?  And 


392 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURES 


[Lect.  IV. 


who  these  are  thou  dost  noi  know  ;  may  be, 
such  lis  thou  didst  never  intend  them  for.  It 
were  ijood  we  used  more  easy  and  undisiract- 
iig  diiiijeuce  for  tlie  increasing  of  those  treas- 
ures which  we  can  not  deny  are  far  better, 
iiud  whosoever  hath  them  nuiy  ahouiui  there- 
in with  increase  :  he  ivnows  well  for  whom 
he  gathers  them  ;  he  himself  shall  possess 
them  througli  all  eternity. 

If  there  were  not  a  hope  beyond  this  life, 
there  were  reason  for  that  [lassionate  word  in 
Psalm  Ixxxix.  47  :  \V/iy  hast  thou  made  all 
men  in  vain  ?  To  what  purjiose  were  it  for 
poor  wrelciied  man  to  have  been  all  his  days 
tossed  upon  the  waves  of  vanity,  and  then  to 
lie  down  in  the  grave,  and  be  no  more  heard 
of?  But  it  is  not  so  :  he  is  made  capable  of 
a  loble  and  blessed  life  beyond  this  ;  and  our 
fovgeifulness  of  this  is  the  cause  of  all  our 
m'.sery  and  vanity  here. 

It  is  a  great  folly  to  complain  of  the  short- 
n«:ss  of  our  life,  and  yet  to  lavish  it  out  so 
piodigallyon  trifles  and  shadows.  ]f  it  were 
well  managed,  it  would  be  sufficient  for  all 
we  have  to  do.  The  only  way  to  live  indeed, 
is  to  be  doing  service  to  God  and  good  to  men  : 
this  is  to  live  much  in  a  little  time.  But  when 
we  play  the  fool  in  mispending  our  time,  it 
may  be  indeed  a  sad  thought  to  us.  when  we 
find  it  gone,  and  we  are  benighted  in  the  dark 
so  far  from  our  home.  But  those  that  have 
their  souls  untied  from  this  world  and  knit  to 
God,  they  need  not  complain  of  the  shortness 
of  it,  having  laid  hold  on  eternal  life.  For 
this  life  is  flying  away,  there  is  no  laying 
hold  on  it  ;  and  it  is  no  matter  how  soon  it  go 
away  ;  the  sooner  the  better,  for  to  such  per- 
sons it  seems  rather  to  go  too  slow. 


LECTURE  IV. 

ViH.  7.  And  now,  Lord,  what  wait  I  for  ?    My  hope 
is  in  thee. 

To  entertain  the  minds  of  men  with  thoughts 
of  their  own  vanity,  and  discourses  of  their 
O'v/n  misery,  seems  to  be  sad  and  unpleasant  ; 
bi(t  certainly  it  is  not  un])rofitable,  unless  it  be 
our  own  choice  to  make  it  so,  and  that  were 
the  greatest  vanity  and  misery  of  all.  Indeed, 
if  there  were  no  help  for  this  sore  evil,  then 
the  common  shift  were  not  to  be  blamed,  yea, 
it  were  to  be  chosen  as  the  only  help  in  such 
a  desperate  case,  not  to  think  on  it,  to  forget 
our  misery,  and  to  divert  our  thoughts  from  it 
by  all  ])ossible  mt  ans,  rather  than  to  increase 
it,  and  torment  ourselves  by  insisting  and  po- 
ring on  it  ;  and  in  that  case  shallow  minds 
would  have  the  advantage,  that  could  not  con- 
verse with  these  sad  thoughts,  for  lo  increase 
this  knowled i^e  were  but  lo  increase  sorrow. 
But  far  be  it  from  us  thus  to  determine  :  there 
is  a  hope  which  is  a  help  to  this  evil,  and  this 
is  what  this  holy  man  fixes  on  :  And  norv, 
I ord,  my  hove  is  in  thee.  Otherwise,  it  were 
•irange  thai  he  most  excellent  piece  of  the 


visible  creation  should  l)e  made  subject  to  the 
most  incurable  unhappiness  ;  to  feel  misery 
which  he  can  not  shun,  and  to  be  tormented 
with  desires  that  can  not  be  satisfied.  But 
there  is  some  better  expectation  for  thu  souls 
of  men,  and  it  is  no  other  than  Uijiselk  who 
made  them. 

The  wisest  natural  men  liave  discoursed  of 
man's  vanity,  and  passionately  bemoaned  il ; 
but  in  this  they  liave  i'allen  short,  how  to 
remedy  it.  They  have  aimed  at  it,  and  come 
near  it,  but  have  not  been  able  to  work  il 
they  still  labored  to  be  satisfied  in  themselves. 
They  speak  somewhat  of  reason,  but  that  will 
not  do  it  ;  for  man  being  fallen  under  the  curse 
of  God,  there  is  nothing  but  darkness  and 
folly  in  himself.  The  only  way  to  blessedness 
is  by  going  out  of  ourselves  unto  God, 

All  our  discourses  of  our  own  vanity  wil) 
but  further  disquiet  us,  if  they  do  not  termi- 
nate here,  if  they  do  not  fix  on  his  etema. 
happiness,  goodness,  and  verity. 

I  am  persuaded,  if  many  would  ask  this 
question  of  themselves,  \\hat  uail  I  for  ? 
they  would  puzzle  themselves  and  not  find 
an  answer.  There  are  a  great  many  things 
that  men  desire  and  are  gaping  after,  but  few 
seek  after  one  thing  chiefly  and  stayedly : 
they  float  up  and  down,  and  are  carried  about 
without  any  certain  motion,  but  by  fancy  and 
by  guess  ;  and  no  wind  can-  be  fair  for  such 
persons,  who  aim  at  no  certain  haven. 

If  we  put  this  question  to  ourselves.  What 
would  I  have  ?  it  were  easy  for  many  to  an- 
swer— I  would  have  an  easy,  quiet,  peace- 
able life  in  this  world.  So  would  an  ox 
or  a  horse.  And  is  that-  all  ?  May  be  you 
would  have  a  greater  height  of  pleasure  and 
honor.  But  think  on  this  one  thing:  there  is 
this  one  crack  and  vanity  that  spoils  all  these 
things,  that  they  will  not  bear  you  up  when 
you  lean  to  them  in  times  of  distress  ;  and 
besides,  when  you  have  them  they  may  be 
pulled  from  you,  smd  if  not,  you  must  be 
plucked  away  from  ihem  within  a  little 
v^-hile.  There  is  much  seeming  content  in 
the  pursuit  of  these  things,  but  they^re  lost 
with  greater  discontent.  It  is  God's  good- 
ness to  men,  to  blast  all  things  in  the  world 
to  them,  and  to  break  their  fairest  hopes, 
that  they  may  be  constrained  to  look  above 
to  himself:  he  beats  them  from  all  shores, 
that  he  may  bring  them  lo  the  Rock  that  is 
higher  than  Ihey.  Psalm  Ixi.  2. 

Oh,  that  God  would  once  touch  some  of 
your  hearts,  who  are  under  the  chains  of 
darkness,  that  ye  might  once  bethink  where 
to  rest  your  heads  in  the  midst  of  all  our  con- 
fusions. And  here  is  the  resting-place  ;  hope 
m  God.  Noiv,  Lord,  ivhal  vail  I  for  'i  My 
hope  is  in  thee.  Blessed  soul  that  can  say, 
"  Lord,  thou  seest  I  desire  nothing  but  thy- 
self (as  Peter  said.  Lord,  thou  knou  esl  1  love 
thee)  :  all  the  corners  of  my  heart  stand  open 
in  thy  sight  ;  thou  seest  if  there  be  any  other 
desire  or  expectation  but  lo  please  thee  ;  anc 
if  there  be  any  such  thing  in  me  (for  I  st-e  i 


Vef  i: 


ON  PSALM  XXXIX. 


393 


noi),  I  pray  thee  discover  it  to  me,  and 
through  thy  grace  it  shall  lodge  no  longer. 
My  heart  is  thine  alone,  it  is  consecrated  to 
thee  ;  and  if  anything  would  profane  thy 
temple,  if  it  will  not  go  forth  by  fair  warning, 
let  It  be  scourged  out  by  thy  rod,  yea  by  any 
rod  whatsoever  it  pleaseth  thee  to  choose." 

My  hope  is  in  thee.]  This  holy  man,  sit  ing 
the  vanity  of  all  other  expectations  and  pur- 
suits of  men,  at  length  runs  to  this :  And  now. 
Lord,  what  wait  I  for?  My  hope  is  in  ihee. 
He  finds  nothing  but  moving  sand  every- 
where else  ;  but  he  finds  this  Eternal  Rock  to 
be  a  strong  foundation,  as  the  Hebrew  word 
by  which  he  is  styled  doth  signify.  It  is 
true,  the  union  of  the  heart  with  God  is  made 
up  by  faith  and  love  ;  but  yet  both  these,  in 
this  our  present  condition  of  absence  and  dis- 
tance from  God,  do  act  themselves  much  by 
the  third  grace  which  is  joined  with  them, 
and  that  is  hope.  For  faith  is  conversant 
about  things  that  are  not  seen,  and  in  a  great 
part,  that  are  not  as  yet,  but  are  to  come  ;  and 
the  spirit  of  faith,  choosing  things  that  are  to 
come,  is  called  hope.  It  is  true  they  are  not 
so  wholly  deferred,  as  that  they  possess  noth- 
ing :  but  yet  the  utmost  they  possess  is  but  a 
pledge  and  earnest-penny,  a  small  thing  in 
respect  of  that  eternal  inheritance  they  look 
for.  What  they  have  here  is  of  the  same 
kind  with  what  they  expect,  but  it  is  but  a 
little  portion  of  it ;  the  smiles  and  glances  of 
their  Father's  face,  foretastes  of  heaven, 
which  their  souls  are  refreshed  with.  Bui 
these  are  but  rare,  and  for  a  short  time. 

Hope  is  the  great  stock  of  believers:  it  is 
that  which  upholds  them  under  all  the  faint- 
ings  and  sorrows  of  their  mind  in  this  life, 
and  in  their  going  through  the  valley  and 
shadow  of  death.  It  is  the  helmet  of  their 
salvation,  which,  while  they  are  looking  over 
to  eternity,  beyond  this  present  time,  covers 
and  keeps  their  head  safe  amid  all  the  darts 
that  fly  round  about  them.  In  the  present 
discomfort  and  darkness  of  mind,  and  the 
saddest  hours  they  meet  with  in  this  life, 
hope  is  that  which  keeps  up  the  soul  ;  and  it 
i.s  that  which  David  cheered  up  his  soul  with. 
Psalm  xlii.  5.  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O 
my  soul,  and  whi/  art  thou  dis'/uieted  m  me  ? 
Hope  thou  in  God,  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him 
for  the  help  of  his  countenance.  And  even 
m  this  point  the  children  of  the  roorld  have 
no  great  advantage  of  the  children  of  God, 
as  to  the  things  of  th's  life  :  for  much  of  their 
satisfaction,  such  as  it  is,  doth  hang,  for  the 
most  part,  on  tiieir  hope  ;  the  happiest  and 
richest  of  them  do  still  piece  it  out  with 
some  further  expectation,  something  they 
look  for  beyond  what  they  have,  and  the  ex- 
pectation (;f  that  pleases  them  more  than  all 
their  present  possessions.  But  this  great  dis- 
advantage they  have,  that  all  their  hopes  are 
but  heaps  of  delusions  and  lies,  and  either 
they  die  and  ohiain  them  not,  or  if  they  do 
obtain  them,  yet  they  obtain  them  not:  they 
are  so  far  short  of  what  they  fancied  and  ima- 
50 


gined  of  them  beforehand.  But  the  liope  of 
the  children  of  God,  as  it  is  without  fail  sure, 
so  it  is  inconceivably  full  and  satisfying,  far 
beyond  what  the  largest  apprehension  of  any 
man  is  able  to  reach.  Hope  in  God  !  What 
is  wanting  there  ? 

This  hope  lodges  only  in  the  pure  heart :  it 
is  a  precious  liquor  that  can  be  kept  only  in 
a  clean  vessel,  and  fhat  which  is  not  so  can 
not  receive  it,  but  what  it  seems  to  receive  it 
corrupts  and  destroys.  It  is  a  confidence  ari- 
sing from  peace,  agreement,  and  friendship, 
which  can  not  subsist  between  the  God  of 
purity  and  those  who  allow  unholiness  in 
themselves.  It  is  a  strange  impudence  for 
men  to  talk  of  their  trust  and  hope  in  God. 
who  are  in  perfect  hostility  against  hini. 
Bold  fellows  go  through  dangers  here,  but  it 
will  not  be  so  hereafter.  Jer.  ii.  27.  They 
turji  to  me  the  back,  and  not  the  face  ;  yet,  in 
their  trouble,  they  say.  Arise  and  save  us: 
they  do  it  as  confidently  as  if  they  never  had 
despised  God,  but  they  mistake  the  matter  ; 
it  is  not  so.  Go  and  cry,  says  he,  to  the  gods 
whom  ye  have  chosen.  Judg.  x.  14.  When 
men  come  to  die,  then  they  catch  hold  of  the 
mercy  of  God  ;  but  from  that  their  filthy 
hands  are  beat  off,  there  is  no  help  for 
them  there,  and  so  they  fall  down  to  the  pit. 
A  holy  fear  of  God,  and  a  happy  hope  in  him, 
are  commonly  linked  together.  Behold  the 
eye  of  the  Lord  is  upon  them  that  fear  him, 
upon  them  that  hope  in  his  mercy.  Psalm 
xxxiii.  19. 

And  even  in  those  who  are  more  purified 
from  sin,  yet  too  large  draughts  of  lawful 
pleasures  do  clog  the  spirits,  and  make  this 
hope  grow  exceedingly  weak.  Surely  thd 
more  we  fill  ourselves  with  these  things,  we 
leave  the  less  appetite  for  the  consolations 
of  this  blessed  hope.  They  can  not  know 
the  excellency  of  this  hope,  who  labor  not 
to  keep  it  unmixed  :  it  is  best  alone,  as  the 
richest  wines  and  oils,  which  are  the  worst 
of  mixtures.  Be  sober  and  hope,  says  the 
apostle  Peter,  1  Epistle  i.  13  :  keep  youi 
mind  sober,  and  your  hope  shall  be  pure.  If 
any  thing  or  person  leans  on  two  supporters, 
whereof  the  one  is  whole  and  sound,  and  the 
other  broken  or  crooked,  that  which  is  un- 
sound will  break,  though  the  other  remain 
whole,  and  that  which  was  proj)ped  up  by  it 
will  fall  ;  whereas  the  one  that  was  whole 
had  been  sufTcient:  thus  it  is  when  we  di- 
vide our  hopes  between  God  and  this  present 
world,  or  any  other  good.  Those  who  place 
their  whole  hopes  on  God,  they  gather  in  all 
their  desires  to  him  ;  the  streams  of  their  af- 
fections are  not  scattered  and  left  in  the  mud- 
dy ditches  of  the  world,  they  do  not  fall  into 
stinking  pools,  but  being  gathered  into  one 
main  torrent,  they  run  on  in  that  channel  to 
the  sea  of  his  eternal  goodness. 

My  hope  7S  m  thee.]  We  can  not  choose  but 
all  of  us  think  that  God  is  immensely  good  in 
himself;  but  that  which  is  nearer,  whereon 
our  hearts  most  rise,  is  a  relative  goodness, 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURES 


[Lect.  V. 


that  he  is£rood  to  ws,  ami  thai  he  is  so  perfectly 
anil  completely  ijooil,  iluit  liavina;  made  choice 
of  him,  and  obtained  union  with  him,  we 
need  no  more.  Were  once  the  hearts  ol'  the 
children  of  men  persuaded  of  this,  all  their 
deliberations  were  at  an  vml :  they  would  not 
only  clu)ose  no  other,  but  defer  no  longer  to 
fix  on  him.  And  what  can  trouble  the  soul 
that  is  thus  established  ?  Nor  change  or  over- 
turning of  outward  things.  Though  the  frame 
of  the  world  itself  were  shaken  to  pieces,  yet 
still  the  bottom  of  this  hoi)e  is  upon  him  who 
chartgclh  not.  And  whatever  the  pressures 
be,  whetiier  poverty,  sickness,  or  disquiet  of 
mind,  thou  mayest  draw  abundant  consolation 
from  hiru  in  whom  thou  hast  placed  thy  hope. 
There  is  only  one  thing  that  cruelly  assaults 
it  by  the  way,  and  that  is  the  guilt  of  sin. 
All  aflliclions  and  troubles  we  meet  with  arc 
not  able  to  mar  this  hope  or  quench  it,  for 
where  it  is  strong,  it  either  breaks  through 
them  or  flies  above  them  :  they  can  not  over- 
come it,  for  there  is  no  affliction  inconsistent 
with  the  love  of  God  :  yea,  the  sharpest  afflic- 
tion may  sometimes  have  the  clearest  char- 
acters of  his  love  upon  it.  But  it  is  sin  that 
presents  him  as  angry  to  the  view  of  the  soul. 
When  he  looks  through  that  cloud,  he  seems 
to  be  an  enemy  ;  and  when  we  apprehend  him 
in  that  aspect,  we  are  aflVighled,  and  present- 
ly apprehend  a  storm.  But  even  in  this  case, 
this  hope  apprehends  his  mercy.  And  thus 
David  here. 


LECTURE  V. 

Ver.  8.  Deliver  me  from  all  my  transgressions  :  make 
me  not  the  reproach  of  the  foolish. 

This  is  indeed  the  basis  and  foundation  of 
all  our  other  hopes,  the  free  pardon  of  our 
sins.  But  none  must  entertain  those  sins,  if 
they  desire  to  be  pardoned.  Repentance  and 
remission  c  '  uns  are  still  linked  together  in 
the  Scriptures  ;  and  he  that  would  have  sin 
pardoned,  and  yet  live  in  it,  or  retain  the  love 
>sf  it,  would  have  God  and  sin  reconciled  to- 
gether, and  that  can  never  be.  David  finds 
his  sins  pressing  him  down  ;  he  sees  them  as 
an  army  of  men  set  in  battle  array  about  him  ; 
and  whither  flies  he  for  deliverance?  Even 
to  him  whom  he  had  offended. 

Ver.  9,  10.  I  was  dumb,  I  opened  not  my 
mouth,  because  thou  didst  it.  Remove  thy 
stroke  away  from  me  :  I  am  consumed  bi/  the 
blow  of  thy  hand.]  We  are  naturally  very 
partial  judges  of  ourselves  ;  and,  as  if  we 
were  not  sufficiently  able  by  nature,  we  study 
and  devise  by  art  to  deceive  ourselves.  We 
are  ready  to  reckon  any  srood  that  is  in  us  to 
the  full,  nay,  to  multiply  it  beyond  what  it  is  ; 
and  further  to  help  this,  we  use  commonly  to 
look  on  those  who  have  less  goodness  in  them, 
who  are  weaker,  more  foolish,  and  worse 
Uian  ourselves  ;  and  so  we  magnify  the  sense 


of  our  own  worth  and  goodness  hy  that  com« 
parison.    And  as  in  the  goodness  we  have,  or 
imagine  we  have,  so  likewise  in  the  evils  we 
suffer,  we  use  to  extol  them  very  much  in 
conceit.    We  account  our  lightest  alllictions 
Very  great ;  and  to  heighten  our  tlmughts  of 
them,  we  do  readily  take  a  view  of  those  who 
are  more  at  ease  and  less  afflicted  than  our- 
selves  ;  and  by  these  devices  we  nourish  in 
ourselves  pride,  by  the  overweening  conceit 
of  our  goodness,  and  impatience,  by  the  over 
feeling  sense  of  our  evils.    But  if  we  would 
help  ourselves  by  comparison,  we  should  do 
well  to  view  those  persons  who  are,  or  have 
been,  eminent  for  holiness,  recorded  in  Holy 
Writ,  or  whom  we  know  in  our  own  times, 
or  have  heard  of  in  former  times  ;  and  by  this 
means,  we  should  lessen  the  great  o])inion  we 
have  of  our  ovvn  worth.    And  so  likewise 
should  we  consider  the  many  instances  of 
great  calamities  and  sorrows,  which  would 
I  tend  to  quiet  our  minds,  and  enable  us  to  pos- 
sess our  souls  in  pa/icnce,  under  the  little  bur- 
den of  trials  that  lies  upon  us.    And,  espe- 
1  cially,  we  shall  find  those  instances  to  fall  in 
j  together,  that  as  persons  have  been  very  era. 
inent  in  holiness,  they  have  also  been  emi- 
!  nent  in  suffering  very  sore  strokes  and  sharp 
scourges  from  the  hand  of  God.    11  we  would 
think  on  their  consuming  blows  and  broken 
bones,  their  bones  burnt  as  a  hearth,  and  their 
fesh  ivilhered  as  ffy-ass,  certainly  we  should 
entertain  our  thouirhts  sometimes  with  won- 
der at  G(xi's  indulgence  to  us,  that  we  are  so 
little  afflicted,  when  so  many  of  the  children 
of  men,  and  so  many  of  the  children  of  God, 
suffer  so  many  and  so  hard  things  ;  and  this 
would  very  much  add  to  the  slock  of  our 
praises.    We  should  not  think  that  we  are 
more  innocent  in  not  deserving  those  things 
that  are  inflicted  on  others,  but  rather,  that 
he  who  thus  measures  out  to  them  and  tons, 
knows  our  size,  and  sees  how  weak  we  are 
in  comparison  of  them  ;  and  that  therefore  he 
'  is  indulgent  to  us,  not  because  we  are  better, 
I  but  because  we  are  weaker,  and  are  not  able 
[  to  bear  so  much  as  he  lays  on  the  stronger 
I  shoulders.    Even  in  the  sharpest  of  these  rods 
'  there  is  mercy.    It  is  a  privilege  to  the  sheep 
[  that  is  ready  to  wander,  to  be  beaten  into  the 
[  right  way.    When  thou  art  corrected,  think 
'  that  thereby  thy  sins  are  to  be  purged  out, 
]  thy  passions  and  lusts  to  be  crucified  by  these 
pains  ;  and  certainly,  he  that  finds  any  cure 
of  the  evils  of  his  spirit  by  the  hardest  suffer- 
ings of  his  flesh,  gets  a  very  gainful  bargain. 
If  thou  account  sin  thy  greatest  unhappiness 
and  mischief,  thou  wilt  be  glad  to  have  it  re- 
moved on  any  terms.    There  is  at  least  in  the 
'  time  of  affliction,  a  cessation  from  some  sins; 

the  raging  lust  of  ambition  and  pride  doth 
j  cease,  when  a  man  is  laid  upon  his  back  ;  and 
I  these  very  cessations  are  some  advantages 
But  there  is  one  great  benefit  of  affliction 
which  follows  in  the  text,  that  it  gives  him 
the  true  measure  of  himself. 

Ver.  11.  When  with  rebukes  thou  dost  tor- 


Ver.  12.] 


ON  PSALM  XXXIX. 


395 


red  man  for  iniquity,  thou  makest  his  beau- 
ty to  consume  away  like  a  moth  :  surely  every 
man  is  vanity,  Selah.J  Man,  at  his  best  estate, 
IS  altogether  vanity :  but  at  its  lowest  estate, 
it  appears  best  unto  him,  how  much  vanity 
he  is,  and  how  much  vanity  he  was  at  his 
best  estate,  seeing  he  was  then  capaole  of 
such  a  change,  to  fall  so  low  from  such  a 
heii^ht.  As  that  great  man  who  was  seeking 
new  conquests,  when  he  fell  upon  the  sand, 
and  saw  the  print  of  his  own  body,  "  Why," 
says  he,  "  so  small  a  parcel  of  earth  will 
serve  me,  who  am  seeking  after  new  king- 
doms !" — thus  it  is,  when  a  man  is  brought 
down,  then  he  hath  the  right  measure  of 
himself,  when  he  sees  how  vain  a  thing  he  is. 

Thus  the  psalmist  represents  it  here  both 
as  an  argument  to  move  God  to  compassion, 
and  to  instruct  himself  and  other  men.  So  Job 
xiii.  25  :  Wilt  thou  break  a  leaf  driven  to  and 
fro  with  the  wind  ?  and  wilt  thou  pursue  dry 
Stubble  ?  And  Psalm  ciii.  14  *  Kor  he  knoweth 
our  frame  :  he  remeinhereth  that  we  are  dust. 
And  his  beauty,  which  seemed  to  be  his  per- 
fection, yet,  when  the  hand  of  God  is  on  him, 
it  is  blasted  as  a  moth-eaten  garment.  This 
should  teach  us  immility,  and  to  beware  of 
sin,  which  provokes  God  to  pour  out  his  he^ivy 
judgments  upon  us.  If  any  be  proud  of  honor, 
let  him  remember  Nebuchadnezzar  and  I  lerod 
— or  if  proud  (jf  riclies,  or  of  wit  and  endow- 
ments of  mind,  let  him  think  hrtw  soon  God 
can  make  all  these  to  wither  and  melt  away. 
Sureli/,  every  man  is  vanity. 

Ver.  12.  Hear  my  prayer,  O  Lord,  and  give 
car  to  my  cry  ;  hold  not  thy  peace  al  my  tears  ; 
for  I  am  a  stranixer  with  thee,  and  a  sojourn- 
er, as  all  my  fathers  ivere.]  What  is  this  life 
we  cleave  so  fast  to,  and  are  so  uneasy  to 
hear  at  parting  with,  what  is  it  but  a  trance, 
and  a  succession  of  sorrcjws,  a  weary  tossing 
and  tottering  upon  the  waves  of  vanity  and 
misery  ?  No  estate  or  course  of  life  is  ex- 1 
empted  from  the  causes  of  this  complaint:' 
the  |)o(jrer  and  meaner  sort  are  troubled  with 
wants,  and  the  richer  with  the  care  of  what  i 
they  have,  and  sometimes  with  tiie  loss  of  it  ;  j 
and  the  middle  sort  between  the  two,  they 
partake;,  in  common,  of  the  vexations  of  both, 
for  iiieir  life  is  spent  in  care  for  keeping  what 
they  have, and  in  turmod  for  purciiasin<r  riiore  ; 
beside  a  world  of  miseries  and  evils  that  are 
incident  equally  to  all  sorts  of  men,  such  as 
sickness  and  pain  of  body,  which  is  both  a 
sharp  aflliction,  and  sits  close  la  a  man,  and 
which  he  is  least  able,  either  by  strength  of 
mind,  or  by  any  art  or  rule,  to  bear ;  and  this 
guest  d(jes  as  often  haunt  palaces  as  poor  cot- 
tages ;  there  are  as  many  groans  of  sick  and 
diseased  bodies  witljin  silken  curtains,  as  in 
the  meanest  lodging.  Neither  does  godliness 
exempt  the  best  of  men  from  the  sufferings 
of  this  life.  David,  who  was  both  a  great 
man  and  a  good  man,  did  share  deeply  in 
these,  so  that  his  condusicjn  still  tiolds  truth; 
no  instance  can  be  found  to  infringe  it :  Sure- 
ly every  man  is  altogether  vanity. 


I  It  remains  only  to  inquire,  what  manner  of 
I  men  they  are  who  are  furnished  with  the  best 
helps,  and  with  the  most  comfortable  mitiga- 
lions  of  their  trouble,  and  with  the  strongest 
additions  of  support  and  strength  to  bear  them 
up  under  it.  And  it  will  certainly  be  found 
that  godliness  alone  hath  this  advantage. 
And  among  the  many  consolations  godly  men 
have  under  their  troubles,  this  is  one,  and  the 
chief  one,  their  recourse  unto  prayer.  So 
here,  and  Psalm  cxlii.  4,  5.  So  Isa.  xxxviii. 
2:  Hezekiah  turned  his  face  toward  the  wall : 
he  turns  his  back  on  all  worldly  counsels  and 
vain  helps,  and  betakes  himself  to  prayer  ; 
and  prayer  brings  ease,  and  support,  and  sea- 
sonable deliverance,  to  the  godly  man.  But 
their  sorrows  shall  be  multiplied  that  hasten 
after  other  gods  ;  Psalm  xvi.  4;  and  this  all 
ungodly  men  do  when  they  are  afflicted  :  they 
run  to  other  imaginary  helps  of  their  own, 
and  those  prove  but  the  multipliers  of  sor- 
rows, and  add  to  their  torment  ;  they  are  mis- 
erable or  troublesome  comforters,  like  unskil- 
ful physicians,  who  add  to  the  i)atient's  pain, 
by  nauseous,  ill-chosen,  and,  it  may  be,  per- 
nicious drugs. 

Now,  in  this  prayer  of  David,  we  find  three 
things,  which  are  the  chief  qualilications  of 
ail  acceptable  prayers.  The  first  is  humility. 
He  humbly  confesses  his  sins,  and  his  own 
weakness  and  worihlessness.  We  are  not  to 
put  on  a  stoical,  flinty  kind  of  spirit  under  our 
afflictions,  that  so  we  may  seem  to  shun  wo- 
manish repinings  and  complaints,  lest  we  run 
into  the  other  evil,  of  despising  the  hand  of 
God,  but  we  are  to  humble  our  prt)ud  hearts, 
and  break  our  unruly  passions.  There  is 
something  of  this  in  the  nature  of  allliciioii  it- 
self: as  in  the  daytime  men  are  abroad,  but 
the  night  draws  them  home,  so  in  the  day  of 
prosperity,  men  run  out  after  vanities  and 
pleasures,  and  when  the  dark  night  of  afflic- 
tion comes,  then  men  sliould  come  home,  and 
wisely  lay  the  matter  to  heart.  It  is  meet 
we  humble  ourselves  under  the  mighty  hand 
of  God.  It  is  meet  to  say  unto  him,  as  Job 
xxxiv.  31,  I  have  been  chastised,  or  have  borne 
chastisement,  and  I  ivill  jiot  offend  am/  more. 
That  is  a  kind  of  language  that  makes  the 
rod  fall  out  of  his  hand.  That  prayer  ascends 
highest  which  comes  from  the  hjwest  depth 
of  an  humbled  heart.  But  God  resists  the 
proud;  he  proclaims  himself  an  enemy  to 
pride  and  stiffness  of  spirit ;  imt  his  grace 
seeks  the  humble  heart,  as  water  does  the 
low  ground. 

If  a  holy  heart  be  the  temple  of  God,  and 
therefore  a  house  of  prayer,  certain Iv,  whea 
it  is  framed  and  builded  for  such,  the  founda- 
tion of  that  temple  is  laid  in  deep  humility; 
otherwise,  no  prayers  that  are  offered  up  in 
it  have  the  smell  of  pleasing  incense  to  him. 

The  second  qualification  of  this  prayer  is 
fervency  and  importunity,  which  appears  in 
the  elegant  gradation  of  the  words  .-  Ilear  my 
prayer,  my  words;  if  not  that,  yd,  Give  ear 
to  my  cry,  which  is  louder;  and  if  that  pre- 


396 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURES 


[Lect.  VI. 


rail  not,  ye(,  Hold  not  thy  peace  at  mxi  tears, 
which  is  liie  loudest  of  all  ;  so  David,  else- 
where, calls  it  the  voice  of  his  weepinu;. 
Though  this  gift  of  tears  doth  often  (low  from 
the  natural  temper,  yet  where  that  temper 
becomes  spiritual  anil  religious,  it  proves  a 
singular  instrument  of  repentance  and  prayer. 
But  yet  there  may  be  a  very  great  height  of 
piety  and  godly  affections  where  tears  are 
wanting  ;  yea,  this  defect  may  proceed  from  a 
lingular  sublimity  of  religion  in  their  souls, 
being  acted  more  in  the  upi)er  region  of  the 
intellectual  mind,  and  so  not  communicating 
much  with  the  lower  affections,  or  these  ex- 
pressions of  them.  We  are  not  to  judge  of 
our  spiritual  proficiency  by  the  gift  of  prayer, 
for  the  heart  may  be  very  spiritually  affected, 
where  there  is  no  readiness  or  volubility  of 
words.  The  sure  measure  of  our  growth  is 
to  be  had  from  our  holiness,  which  stands  in 
this,  to  see  how  our  hearts  are  crucified  to 
the  world,  and  how  we  are  possessed  with 
the  love  of  (lod,  and  with  ardent  longings  af- 
ter union  with  him,  and  dwelling  in  his  pres- 
ence hereafter,  and  in  being  conformed  to  his 
will  here. 

It  is  the  greatest  folly  imaginable  in  some 
to  shed  tears  for  their  sins,  and  within  a  little 
while  to  return  to  them  again  ;  they  think 
there  is  some  kind  of  absolution  in  this  way 
of  easy  venting  themselves  by  tears  in  prayer, 
and  when  a  new  temptation  returns,  they  ea- 
sily yield  to  it.  This  is  lightness  and  ibolish- 
ne??,  like  the  inco-nstancy  of  a  woman  who 
entertains  new  lovers  in  her  mourning  appar- 
el, having  expressed  much  sorrow  and  grief 
for  her  former  husband. 

Now,  fervency  in  prayer  hath  in  it,  \st, 
Attentiveness  of  mind.  If  the  mind  be  not 
present,  it  is  impossible  that  much  of  the 
heart  and  affections  can  be  there.  How  shall 
we  think  that  God  will  hear  those  prayers 
■which  we  do  not  hear  ourselves  ?  And  shall 
we  think  them  worthy  of  his  acceptance, 
that  are  not  worthy  of  our  thoughts  ?  Yet 
we  should  not  leave  off  prayer  because  of 
the  wanderings  of  our  hearts  in  it,  for  that 
is  the  very  design  of  the  devil,  but  still  we 
must  continue  in  it,  and  amend  this  fault  as 
much  as  we  can  ;  by  remembering,  in  the 
entry,  with  whom  we  have  to  do,  by  freeing 
our  minds  as  much  as  may  be  from  the  en- 
tanglements and  multiplicity  of  business,  and 
by  laboring  to  have  our  thoughts  often  in 
heaven.  For  where  the  heart  is  much,  it 
will  be  ever  and  anon  turning  thitherward, 
without  any  difficulty. 

2dly,  Fervency  of  prayer  hath  in  it  an  in- 
tense bent  of  the  affections:  to  have  our  de- 
sires as  ardent  as  can  be  for  the  pardon  of 
sin,  for  the  mortifying  of  our  lusts  and  pas- 
sions, for  the  delivering  us  from  the  love  of 
ourselves  and  this  present  world  ;  and  for 
such  spiritual  things  to  pray  often,  and  to  fol- 
low it  with  importunity.  That  is  to  pray 
fervently,  never  to  rest  till  an  answer  come. 

The  third  qualification  is  faith.    He  who 


comes  to  God  must  believe  thai  he  is,  and  thai 
he  is  a  reivardcr  of  all  that  diligently  seek 
him.  Heb.  xi.  6.  And  certainly,  as  he  that 
comes  to  God  must  believe  this,  so  he  that 
believes  this,  can  not  but  come  to  God  ;  and 
if  he  be  not  presently  answered,  he  that  be' 
lieves  inakcs  no  haste — he  resolves  patiently 
to  wait  for  the  Lord,  and  to  go  to  no  other. 

Surely,  there  is  much  to  be  had  in  prayer. 
All  good  may  be  obtained,  and  all  evil  avert- 
ed by  it  ;  yea,  it  is  a  reward  to  itself  It  ii 
the  greatest  dignity  of  the  creature,  to  be  ad- 
mitted to  converse  with  God.  And  certainly, 
the  soul  that  is  much  in  prayer,  grows  in  pu- 
rity, and  is  raised  by  prayer  to  the  despising 
of  all  those  things  that  the  world  admires 
and  is  in  love  with,  and  by  a  wonderful  way 
is  conformed  lo  the  likeness  of  God. 

For  I  am  a  stranger  with  thee,  and  a  so- 
journer, as  all  my  fathers  were.]  In  the 
law,  God  recommends  strangers  to  the  care 
and  compassion  of  his  people ;  now  David 
returns  the  argument  to  him,  persuade  him  to 
deal  kindly  with  him  :  "  For  I  am  a  stranger 
with  thee,  that  is,  before  thre — in  this  world 
wherein  thou  hast  appointed  me  to  sojourn  a 
lew  days.  And  I  betake  myself  to  thy  pro- 
tection in  this  strange  country  ;  I  seek  shel- 
ter under  the  shadow  of  thy  wings;  there- 
fore, have  compassion  upon  me."  He  that 
looks  on  himself  as  a  stranger,  and  is  sensi- 
ble of  the  darkness  both  round  about  him  in 
this  wilderness,  and  also  within  him,  will  of- 
ten put  up  that  request  with  David,  Psalm 
cxix.  19, 1  am  a  stranger  on  this  earth  ;  hide 
not  thy  commandments  from  me — do  not  let 
me  lose  my  way.  And  as  we  should  use  this 
argument  to  persuade  God  to  look  down  up- 
on us,  so  likewise,  to  persuade  ourselves  tc 
send  up  our  hearts  and  desires  to  him.  What 
is  the  joy  of  our  life,  but  the  thoughts  of  that 
other  life,  our  home,  before  us?  And,  cer- 
tainly, he  that  lives  much  in  these  thoughts, 
set  him  where  you  will  here,  he  is  not  much 
pleased  or  displeased  ;  but  if  his  Father  call 
him  home,  that  word  gives  him  his  heart'* 
desire. 


LECTURE  VL 

Veh.  13.  O  spare  me,  that  I  may  recover  strengtb, 
before  I  go  hence,  and  be  no  more. 

Why  is  it  that  we  do  not  extremely  hate 
that  which  we  so  desperately  love,  sin  i 
For  the  deformity  of  itself  is  unspeakable: 
and,  besides,  it  is  the  cause  of  all  our  woes. 
Sin  hath  opened  the  sluices,  and  lets  in  all 
the  deluge  of  sorrows  which  makes  the  life 
of  poor  man  nothing  else  than  vanity  and 
misery,  so  that  the  meanest  orator  in  the 
world  may  be  eloquent  enough  on  that  sub- 
ject. What  is  our  life,  but  a  continual  suc- 
cession of  many  deaths  ?  Though  we  should 
say  nothing  of  all  the  bitterness  and  vexa 


Ver.  12.] 


ON  PSALM  XXXIX. 


397 


lions  that  are  hatched  under  the  sweetest 
pleasures  in  the  wurld,  this  one  thing  is 
enough,  the  multitude  ol"  diseases  and  pains, 
the  variety  of  distempers,  that  those  houses 
we  are  lodged  in  are  exposed  to.  Poor  crea- 
tures are  oft-times  tossed  between  two,  the 
fear  of  death,  and  the  tediousness  of  life  ; 
and  under  these  fears  they  cannot  tell  which 
to  choose.  Holy  men  are  not  exempted  from 
some  apprehensions  of  God's  displeasure  be- 
cause of  their  sins  ;  and  that  may  make  them 
cry  out  with  David,  O  spare  me,  that  I  may 
recover  strength,  before  I  go  hence,  and  be 
no  more.  Or,  perhaps,  this  may  be  a  desire, 
not  so  much  simply  for  the  prolonging  of 
life,  as  for  the  intermitting  of  his  pain,  to 
iiave  ease  from  the  present  smart.  The  ex- 
treme torment  of  some  sickness,  may  draw 
the  most  fixed  and  confident  spirits  to  cry  out 
very  earnestly  for  a  little  breathing.  Or  rath- 
er, if  the  words  imply  the  desire  of  a  recov- 
ery, and  the  spinning  out  of  the  thread  of 
his  life  a  little  longer,  surely  he  intended  to 
employ  it  for  God  and  his  service.  But  long 
life  was  suitable  to  the  promises  of  that  time : 
so  Hezekiah,  Isa.  xxxviii.  5.  There  is  no 
douht  those  holy  men  under  the  law,  knew 
somewhat  of  the  state  of  immortality  ;  their 
calling  themselves  strangers  on  earth  (Heb. 
xi.  13),  argued  that  they  were  no  strangers 
to  these  thoughts.  But  it  can  not  be  denied, 
that  that  doctrine  was  but  darkly  laid  out  in 
those  times.  It  is  Christ  Jesus  who  hath 
brought  life  and  tmrnorta/iti/  to  light,  who 
did  illuminate  life  and  immortality,  which 
before  stood  in  the  dark. 

Surely,  the  desire  of  life  is,  for  the  most 
part,  sensual  and  base,  when  men  desire  that 
they  may  still  enjoy  their  animal  pleasures, 
and  are  loath  to  be  parted  from  them.  They 
are  pleased  to  term  it,  a  desire  to  live  and  re- 

fient ;  and  yet  few  do  it  when  they  are  spared  : 
ike  evil  debtors,  who  desire  forbearance 
from  one  term  to  another  ;  but  with  no  de- 
sign at  all  to  pay.  But  there  is  a  natural 
desire  of  life,  something  of  abhorrence  in 
nature  against  the  dissolution  of  these  taber- 
nacles. We  are  loath  to  go  forth,  like  chil- 
dren who  are  afraid  to  walk  in  the  dark,  not 
knowing  what  may  be  there.  In  some,  such 
a  desire  of  life  may  be  very  reasonable  ;  be- 
ing surprised  by  sickness,  and  apprehensions 
of  death,  and  sin  unpardoned,  they  may  de- 
sire a  little  time  before  they  enter  into  eter- 
nity. For  that  change  is  not  a  thing  to  be 
hazarded  upon  a  few  days  or  hours'  prepara- 
tion. [  will  not  say  that  death-bed  repent- 
ance is  altogether  desperate,  but  certainly  it 
is  very  dangerous,  and  to  be  suspected  ;  and, 


therefore,  the  desire  of  a  little  titue  longer, 
in  such  a  case,  may  be  very  allowable. 

I  will  not  deny  but  it  is  possible,  even  for  a 
believer,  to  be  taken  in  such  a  posture,  that 
it  may  be  very  uncomfortable  to  him  to  be 
carried  off  so, through  the  affrightments  of 
death,  and  his  darkness  as  to  his  after-state. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  an  argument  of  a  good 
measure  of  spirimality  and  height  of  the  love 
of  God,  to  desire  to  depart,  and  be  dissolved, 
in  the  midst  of  health,  and  the  affluence  of 
worldly  comforts.  But  for  men  to  desire  and 
wish  to  be  dead,  when  they  are  troubled  and 
vexed  with  anything,  is  but  a  childish  folly, 
flowing  from  a  discontented  mind,  which  be- 
j  iug  over,  they  desire  nothing  less  than  to  die. 
It  is  true  there  may  be  a  natural  desire  of 
death,  which  at  sometimes  hath  shined  in 
the  sj)irits  of  some  natural  men:  and  there 
is  much  reason  for  it,  not  only  to  be  freed 
from  the  evils  and  troubles  of  this  life,  but 
\  even  from  those  things  which  many  of  this 
'  foolish  world  account  their  happiness — sen- 
sual pleasures,  to  eat  and  drink,  and  to 
be  hungry  again,  and  siill  to  round  that 
same  course  which,  to  souls  that  are  raised 
above  sensual  things,  is  burdensome  and 
grievous. 

I  But  there  is  a  spiritual  desire  of  death, 
which  is  very  becoming  a  Christian.  For 
Jesus  Christ  hath  not  only  opened  very  clearly 
the  doctrine  of  eternal  life,  but  he  himself 
hath  passed  through  death,  and  lain  down  in 
the  grave  ;  he  hath  perfumed  that  passage, 
and  warmed  that  bed  for  us  ;  so  that  it  is 
sweet  and  amiable  for  a  Christian  to  pass 
through  and  follow  him,  and  to  be  where  he 
is.  It  is  a  strange  thing,  that  the  souls  of 
Christians  have  not  a  continual  desire  to  go 
to  that  company  which  is  above  (finding  so 
much  discord  and  disagreement  among  the 
best  of  men  that  are  here) ;  to  go  to  the  spirits 
of  just  men  made  perfect,  where  there  is  light, 
and  love,  and  nothing  else ;  to  go  to  the  com- 
pany  of  angels,  a  higher  rank  of  blessed 
spirits  ;  but,  most  of  all,  to  go  to  God,  and  to 
Jesus  the  Mediator  of  the  New  Testament. 
And,  to  say  nothmg  positively  of  that  glory 
(for  the  tru'h  is,  we  can  say  no'hinir  of  it),  the 
very  evils  that  death  delivers  the  true  Chris- 
tian from,  may  make  him  long  for  it ;  for  such 
a  one  may  say — I  shall  die,  and  go  to  a  more 
excellent  country,  where  I  shall  be  happy  for 
ever:  that  is,  I  shall  die  no  more,  I  shall 
sorrow  no  more,  I  shall  be  sick  no  more,  and, 
which  is  yet  more  considerable,  I  shall  doubt 
I  no  more,  and  shall  be  tempted  no  more  ;  and, 
j  which  is  the  chiefest  of  all,  I  shall  sin  no 
more. 


m  EXPOSITORY  LECTURES  [Lect.  1. 

EXPOSITORS  LECTURES  ON  ISAIAH  VI. 


LECTURE  I. 
Ver.  1—5. 

The  division  of  this  chapter  (were  that  to 
»ny  great  purpose)  may  be  stated  thus  : — 

1.  The  prophet's  vision,  from  ver.  1  to  3. 
In  the  year  that  kins  Uzziah  died,  I  saw  also 
the  Lord  sittimr  upon  a  throne,  hi<rh  and  lift- 
ed up,  and  his  train  filled  the  tempt':.  2.  Above 
it  stood  the  seraphtms :  each  one  had  sir  wm  s^s; 
with  twain  he  covered  his  face,  and  with  lipain 
he  covered  his  feel,  and  with  twain  he  did  fly. 
3.  And  one  cried  unto  another,  and  said,  holy, 
holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  of  hosts  :  the  whole 
earth  is  full  of  his  s^lory. 

ir.  The  efTects  ol  it  upon  him,  relating  to 
this  calling,  rom  ver.  4-13.  And  the  posts 
of  the  door  moved  at  the  voice  of  them  that 
cried,  and  the  house  was  filled  with  smoke,  &c. 

In  the  vision,  besides  the  circumstances  of 
time  and  place  specified,  ver.  1,  we  have  a 
glorious  representation  of  the  majesty  of  God, 
ver.  2  :  a  suitable  acclamation,  a  voice  of 
praise  being  joined  with  it,  ver.  3,  4. 

The  eiTects  of  it  on  the  prophet  toward  his 
calling  arc  three,  viz.,  I.  his  preparation.  II. 
his  mission.    III.  his  message. 

I.  The  preparation, in  ihesetwo  particulars: 
1.  humiliation  ;  2.  purification  (ver.  6,  7)  :  a 
deep  conviction,  and  then,  effectual  removal 
of  pollution.  ' 

If.  In  his  mission  we  have  three  things  : 
1.  God's  inquirv  for  a  messenger,  ver.  8,  for- 
mer part.  2.  The  prophet's  offer  of  himself, 
the  latter  part  of  ver.  8.  3.  God's  acceptance, 
ver.  9,  former  part. 

III.  His  message — a  heavy  commination, 
from  ver.  9-12,  yet,  allayed  with  a  gracious 
mitigation,  ver.  13  ;  the  judgment  very  last- 
ing and  wasting,  yet  a  remnant  reserved. 
Ver.  1.  In  the  year  that  Vm^,  Uzziah  died,  I  saw 

also  the  I.nril  sitting  iijjon  a  throne,  high  and  lifted 

up,  and  his  train  Slle.d  the  temple. 

/  saw.'\  Observe  the  freedom  of  God  in  his 
choice  of  men  to  be  near  him  and  know  him. 
And  in  the  measuring  out  of  the  degrees  of 
discovery  unto  those  men  differently,  some 
had  extraordinary  revelations ;  and  though 
prophetic  visions  now  cease,  yet  there  are 
certainly  higher  and  clearer  coruscations  of 
God  upon  some  souls,  than  upon  many  others, 
who  yet  are  children  of  light,  and  partake  of 
a  measure  of  that  Vvfhx  shining  within  them. 
Thus  we  are  not  carvers  and  choosers,  and, 
therefore,  are  not  peremptorily  to  desire  any- 
thing in  kind  or  nu'asure  that  is  singular  :  that 
were  pride  and  folly.  But  above  all  things 
We  are  to  esteem,  and  submissively  to  desire, 


still  more  and  more  knowledge  of  God,  and 
humbly  to  wait  and  keep  open  the  passage  of 
light  ;  not  to  close  the  windows,  not  to  be  in- 
dulgent to  any  l\nown  sin  or  impure  affection  ; 
that  will  soon  obstruct  it.  Into  a  filthy  sou), 
wisdom  will  not  enter. 

In  the  year  that  king  Uzziah  died,  I  saw 
the  Lord  on  his  throne.']  There  is  another 
king  named  here,  to  denote  the  time  by  ;  out 
he  was  a  diseased  and  a  dying  king,  who 
lived  some  years  a  leper,  and  then  died.  Men 
may  speak  in  a  court  style  of  vain  wishes,  0 
king,  live  for  ever  ;  but  this  king  here  on  the 
throne,  is  indeed  the  king  immortal,  the  ever- 
living  God. 

God  measures  and  proportions  all  his 
means  to  their  ends.  When  he  calls  men  to 
high  services,  he  furnishes  ihem  with  suita- 
ble preparations  and  enablements.  Thus  here 
with  the  prophet :  he  was  to  denwunce  heavy 
things  againsi  his  own  nation,  «  provd,  stub- 
born  people  ;  to  deal  boldly  and  freely  with 
the  highest,  yea,  with  the  king  himself,  ch. 
vii.  ;  and  he  is  prepared  by  a  vision  of  God. 
What  can  a  man  fear  after  that?  All  regal 
majesty  and  pomp  looks  petty  ana  poor  after 
that  sight.  Two  kings  togeiher  on  their 
thrones  in  fobes  royal  (1  Kings  xxii.)  did  no 
whit  astonish  him  who  had  seen  a  greater  :  1 
saw  (says  Micaiah)  the  Lord  sitting  on  his 
throne,  and  all  the  hosts  of  heaven  standing 
by.  Much  like  this  is  the  vision  of  Isaiah 
here  before  us. 

Eyes  dazzled  with  the  sun,  see  not  the 
glittering  of  drops  of  dew  on  the  earth  ;  and 
those  are  quickly  gone,  with  all  their  faint 
and  fading  glory,  to  a  soul  taken  wiih  the 
contemplation  of  God.  How  meanly  do  they 
spend  their  days,  who  bestow  them  on  count- 
ing money,  or  courting  little  earthly  idols  in 
ambition  or  love  !  From  how  high  a  stand 
doth  he  look  down  on  those,  who  looks  on 
God,  and  admires  his  greatness,  wonders  at 
what  he  sees,  and  still  seeks  after  more! 
These  two  are  therefore  joined  together,  be- 
holding the  beauty  of  the  Lord,  and  int/j/iring 
in  his  temple.  Psalm  xxvii.  4.  One  thing 
have  I  desired  of  the  Lord,  that  will  I  seek 
after  ;  that  I  may  dwell  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord  all  the  days  of  my  life,  to  behold  the 
beauty  of  the  Lord,  and  to  inquire  in  his 
temple. 

Ver.  2,  3.  Above  it  stood,  the  seraphims : 
each  one  had  six  winss  ;  with  twain  he  cov- 
ered his  face,  and  with  ttvain  he  covered  his 
feet,  and  with  twain  he  did  fiy.  And.  one 
cried  unto  another,  and  said.  Holy,  holy,  holy 
IS  the  Lord  of  hosts  :  the  ivhole  earth  is  full 


Ver.  4." 


ON  ISAIAH  VI. 


319 


of  his  glory.']  These  glorious  courtiers,  fla- 
ming spirits,  are  light  and  love,  whose  very 
feet  are  too  bright  for  us,  as  his  face  is  too 
bright  for  them  ;  and  they  cry  holy,  holy, 
Ao/y— thrice  holy,  most  holy  Three,  one  God 
— Lord  of  Hosts:  the  whole  earth  is  full  of 
his  glory.  This  they  cry  one  to  another, 
echoing  it  and  retuniing  it  incessantly.  They 
that  praise  him  most,  come  nearest  their  life. 
Wh.en  we  are  to  pray,  or  offer  any  worship 
to  the  great  God  in  the  sanctuary,  especially 
in  solemn  worship  there,  let  us  think  of  him 
as  thus  on  his  throne  above,  and  the  diffusion 
of  his  glory  there,  of  his  train  filling  the  up- 

Cer  temple,  and  so  stoop  low  and  fall  down 
efore  him.  Holy,  holy,  holy.  This  is  the 
main  thing  wherein  he  is  glorious,  and  we 
are  to  know  and  adore  him  in  this  view,  and 
abhor  ourselves  as  in  his  sight. 

The  tvhole  earth.]  So  many  creatures  and 
various  works  and  affairs,  fruits  and  plants, 
and  rich  commodities,  and  so  many  calami- 
ties and  miseries  that  kingdoms  and  people 
are  afflicted  with  as  by  turns,  and  so  many 
disorders,  and  such  wickedness  of  men  in  pub- 
lic and  private  matters:  and  yet,  in  all  these 
varieties  and  contrarieties  of  things,  this  one 
is  the  sum  of  all,  and  all  is  taken  up  in  it, 
The  ivho/e  earth  is  fill  of  his  glory.  In  fra- 
ming and  upholding,  in  ruling  anil  ordermg 
all,  what  a  depth  of  power  and  wisdom. 

Ver.  4.  The  posts  of  the  door  moved  at  the  voice  of 
him  that  cried,  and  the  house  was  filled  with 
smoke. 

How  true  must  that  be,  that  at  his  voice 
the  earth  i/unkrs  and  the  mountains  tremhh, 
when,  at  the  voice  of  an  angel  crying  or  pro- 
daiining  his  name,  the  very  threshold  of  the  i 
teni|)ie  (the  then  holiest  part  of  the  earth) 
moves  1  This,  in  the  vision,  was  intended  to 
represent  the  dreadfulncss  of  his  great  name, 
which  vile  men  dure  baffle  in  vain  oaths,  and 
can  speak  thereof  without  sense:  but  hearts 
that  are  indeed  his  living  temples  will  find 
this  emotion  :  when  his  name  is  proclaimed,  j 
or  when  they  mention  or  think  of  it,  the  posts 
will  he  moved  with  an  awful  trembling. 

And  the  house  wns  filled  with  smoke.]  This 
was  here  a  symbol  of  the  presence  and  maj- 
esty of  God.  See  Psalm  xcvii.  2.    Clouds  and 
darkness  are  round  about  him,  ri ghtcousness 
and  judgment   are   the  habitation  of  his 
throne  ;  not  a  signal  of  displeasure,  as  some 
take  it.    He  dwells  m  light  that  is  inaccessi- 
ble, and  round  about  is  thick  darkness,  shut- 
ting out  the  weak  eyes  of  men,  which  were 
not  able  to  abide  the  brightness  of  his  glory. 
Much  of  our  knowledge  here,  lies  in  this,  to 
know  that  we  know  him  not:  and  much  of 
our  praise,  to  confess  that  we  can  not  praise 
him — silentium  tibilaus,  as  they  read  Ps.txv.  1. 
Vrh.  .').  Then  said  \,  Wo  is  me  !  for  I  nm  undone; 
because  I  am  a  man  of  iim  loan  lips,  and  I  dwell  in 
the  midst  of  a  peopli-  of  nnrlear  lips  ;  for  mine 
eyes  have  seen  the  ICing,  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 
Then  said  I,  Wo  is  me.]    He  is  not  lifted 
up  wil'i  the  dignity  that  ne  should  be  hon- 


ored with  such  a  vision  of  God  ;  but  on  the 
contrary,  is  struck  with  humble,  holy  fear: 
Oh,  I  am  undone  !  This  constitutes  much 
of  the  exercise  of  souls  admitted  nearest  to 
Goa,  even  this  astonishment  and  admiration 
that  such  as  they  should  be  regarded  ana 
raised  to  that  height,  and  holy  fear  in  a 
sense  of  their  unholiness.  When  the  blessed 
Virgin  heard  a  voice  very  much  to  her  own 
advantage  (Luke  i.  28,  29),  mstead  of  rising 
in  her  own  conceit  upon  it,  she  was  troubled, 
and  marvelled  what  manner  of  salutation  it 
should  be,  and  was  struck  with  fear,  so 
that  the  angel  found  it  needful  to  say,  Fear 
not. 

Illusions  and  deceits  of  spirit  of  this  kind, 
can  not  be  better  distinguished  from  true 
manifestations  of  God,  than  by  this,  that  thev 
breed  pride  and  presumption  in  the  heart, 
make  it  vain  and  haughty  ;  while  true  sen- 
ses, and  joys,  and  discoveries  of  love,  in  what 
kind  soever,  do  most  powerfully  humble.  Is 
est,  </ui  superbire  no/i  potest,  cui  Deus  osten- 
dit  misericordiam  suam.  Augustine. 

For  mine  eyes  have  seen  the  King,  the 
Lord  of  Hosts.]  The  mother  and  nurse  of 
pride,  is  ignorance  of  God.  A  small  glance 
of  him  will  make  the  best  of  men  abhor 
themselves,  and  still  the  nearer  sight  of  him, 
the  lower  conceit  will  there  be  of  self,  and 
the  deeper  sense  of  impurity  and  vileness. 
This  tells  us,  though  we  hear  and  speak  of 
God,  alas!  we  know  him  not. 

/  am  a  man  of  polluted  Irps.]  He  mentions 
this  the  rather  because  he  heard  that  song 
which  he  would  have  joined  with,  but  durst 
not,  because  of  polluted  hps.  Thus  we  must 
confess  we  are  polluted  all  over,  but  much  of 
our  pollution  breaks  out  by  the  lips,  yet,  com- 
monly, we  think  not  on  it. 

7  am  undone.]  We  could  not  indeed  bear 
much,  could  Hot  see  God  and  live  ;  therefore 
he  veils  himself.  But  surely  we  might  see 
much  more  than  we  do,  and  live  the  better 
for  it,  the  more  humbly  and  holily.  Our  pol- 
lutions hinder  and  unfit  us,  as  he  implies 
when  he  says,  A  man  of  polluted  lips.  But 
oh,  that  we  saw  so  much  of  him  as  to  see  this 
pollution,  which  makes  us  so  unworthy  and 
so  unfit  to  see  him. 

He  first  cries,  I  arn  a  man  of  unclean  lipM, 
and  then  adds,  I  dwell  in  the  midst  of  a  people 
of  unclean  lips.  This  is  the  true  method  ; 
there  can  be  no  right  sense  of  fiollutions 
about  us,  but  that  which  begins  with  a  sense 
of  those  within  us.  Few  men  reflect  much 
on  themselves  :  or,  if  they  do,  they  view  them- 
selves by  a  false  lisht. 

Polluted  lips.]  This  he  says  in  regard  of 
the  voice  he  heard.  And  with  refjard  to  the 
much  irreverence  with  which  we  mention 
God,  both  ministers  and  peoide,  as  much  of 
all  our  heart  pollutions  liave  their  vent  this 
way,  so  the  promise  of  sanctifying  his  people 
runs  much  on  this.  Zeph.  iii.  9.  They  of  a 
pure  lip  shall  offer.  All  are  of  the  lioly  or 
der,  a  royal  priesthood,  and  through  sancti- 


400 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURES 


[I,ECT.  [1. 


fied  lips,  as  the  censor,  still  they  offer  in- 
cense of  prayer  and  praise.  He  is  a  jtrrj'cct 
man  that  offends  not  in  li'orrf.  Jam.  iii.  2. 
Commonly,  by  mucii  speaking,  there  is  much 
pollution  :  In  many  trords  there  ivants  not  sin. 
Prov.  X.  19.  Therefore  let  yovr  speech  he  al- 
ways seasoned  with  salt.  Col.  iv.  6.  Now, 
many  s^pceches  need  much  salt,  otherwise 
some  part  will  be  rotten,  at  least  unsavory. 
Much  of  the  sin  of  the  land  consists  in  this : 
there  are  few  companies  where  God  is  not 
dishonored  and  provoked  by  your  communi- 
cation ;  and  till  this  be  laid  to  heart,  judg- 
ments will  multiply  and  grow  instead  of  de- 
creasing. Few,  even  of  those  who  fear  the 
Lord,  speak  often  one  to  another,  in  a  strain 
that  God  delights,  not  only  to  hearken  to,  but 
to  write  down  and  register  for  their  good. 

And  J  dire//  amidst  a  people  of  unclean 
lips.]  We  infect  each  other  when  we  meet. 
There  is  little  converse  that  a  man  returns 
the  better  by,  yea,  by  the  most  he  is  the 
worse:  he  brings  back  often  more  pollution, 
more  folly  and  vanity  by  most  companies  and 
discourses.  But  we  see  here,  that  impurity 
humbly  acknowledged,  is  graciously  removed. 


LECTURE  IL 
Ver.  6—8. 

Vf.r.  6.  Then  flew  one  of  the  serapliims  unto  me,  hav- 
ing alive  coal  in  his  hand,  whicli  he  had  taken  with 
tongs  off  the  altar. 

Tmpurity^wcU  discovered  to  a  man,  is  half  j 
cured.  Whensoever  God  graciously  shows  i 
a  man  his  own  unsanctifiedness,  there  he 

ffoes  on  to  cleanse  and  sanctify  him :  ihe 
ight  that  discovers,  is  followed  by  a  burn- 
ing coal  that  purges  away. 

The  Holy  Spirit  is  that  purifying  fire  :  a 
loucn  of  it  cleanseth  the  hearts,  and  lips,  and 
all,  and  kindles  that  affection  in  the  soul 
which  can  not  die  out,  which  not  many, 
which  no  waters  can  quench  again.  It  doth 
this  to  all  that  are  sanctified,  but  eminently 
it  doth  it  (or,  at  least,  they  desire  it  may)  to 
to  those  who  are  to  be  the  instruments  of  en- 
lightening, purifying,  and  kindling  others. 
So  in  the  resemblance  of  fiery  tongues  came 
down  ibis  Spirit  on  the  apostles  ;  and  thence 
ihey  themselves  were  as  burning  coals  scat- 
tered through  ihe  nations,  blessed  incendia- 
ries of  ihe  world,  setting  it  on  fire  with  the 
love  of  Christ  :  tanquatn  ligna  ardenlia  dis- 
persa,  says  Augustine. 

Ver.  7.  And  he  laid  it  upon  my  mouth,  and  said,  Lo, 
thishatli  touched  thy  lips,  and  thine  iniquity  is  la- 
ken  away,  and  thy  sin  is  purged. 

Thine  iniquity  is  taken  away, — how  im- 
pure soever  before.    This  free  grace  is  won- 
derful, to  make  some  who  have  been  notori- 
ously unclean,  by  the  chanse  wrought  by  this  : 
fire,  the  touch  of  a  coal,  to  become  eminently  I 
gracious,  and  messengers  of  grace  to  others, 


carrying  this  and  spreading  it.    They,  though 
originally  of  dark  clay,  are  by  this  fire  made 
:  transparent  glass  through  which  the  light  of 
the  gos])el  shines  into  the  church. 

This  coal  taken  from  the  altar,  may  denote 
!  the  deriving  of  the  S])irit  from  .Icsus  Christ, 
I  our  priest,  altar,  sacrifice,  and  all,  by  which 
we  are  purified  and  made  tit  for  his  service. 
He  is  the  fountain  of  light,  and  life,  and  puri- 
ty, and  all  grace  to  his  messengers,  and  all 
his  followers.  His  grace  is  indeed  a  hve  coal, 
where  heavenly  heat  is  mixed  with  earth,  the 
fulness  of  the  Godhead  with  our  nature  in  hu- 
man flesh.  Thereby  we  draw  near  ;  and  es- 
pecially they  who  bear  his  name  to  men,  un« 
der  a  sense  of  their  own  imjiurity,  entreat  his 
touch,  as  devout  Bernard,  who,  in  a  holy  hy- 
perbole, exclaims,  "  had  the  prophet  need  of 
a  coal !  Oh,  then,  grant  for  nie  a  whole 
globe  of  fire,  to  purge  away  my  filthiness,  and 
make  me  a  fit  messenger  to  this  jicople  !" 

Thy  sin  is  purged.]  The  children  of  God 
are  a  wonder  to  themselves,  when  that  Spirit 
comes  in,  who  conquers  and  purges  so  sud- 
denly and  easily  what  they  before  Jiroan  un- 
der and  wrestle  with,  very  long  to  little  or  no 
purpose.  It  is  a  change  of  the  ri  <;hl  hand  oj 
the  Most  High,  as  the  Vulgate  reads  that  word 
in  Psalm  Ixxvii.  10  :  I  said,  this  is  my  infirmi- 
ty, but  I  irill  remember  Ihe  years  o  f  the  right 
hand  of  the  Most  High — mutatiu  dextrce.  Ex- 
celsi.  A  touch  of  that  will  cleanse  and  heal  : 
the  all-purifying  virtue  of  his  Spirit,  whereof 
this  baptism  of  the  prophet's  lips  was  a  sym- 
bol, takes  away  the  dross  which  by  other 
means  than  that  fire  can  not  be  purged.  So 
in  metals,  much  pains  may  be  taken,  and 
strength  of  hand  used  with  little  effect  ;  that 
at  most  does  but  scratch  the  superfices,  makes 
the  outside  a  litile  bright  and  shining,  but 
severs  not  the  dross  from  within  :  that  can  not 
be  done  without  fire.  Have  we  not  found 
how  vainly  we  attempt  while  God  withholds 
his  hand  ?  Yea,  while  a  man  fancies  self- 
pureness,  he  is  the  more  impure,  as  Job  says, 
chap.  ix.  30,31.  If  I  leash  myself  with  snow- 
water, and  make  myself  ever  so  clean,  yet 
shall  Ihou  plunge  me  in  the  ditch,  and  mine 
own  clothes  shall  abhor  me.  Therefore,  pray- 
er is  the  great  resource  of  a  soul  under  a 
sense  of  uncleanness,  begging  a  new  creation, 
for  such  it  is  indeed  :  Create  m  me  a  clean 
heart,  O  God,  and  renew  a  right  spirit  within 
me /—following  God  with  this  suit,  and  re- 
solving to  follow  him  till  he  grant  it :  for  we 
well- know  he  is  able,  and  may  say.  Lord,  tf 
thou  wilt,  thou  canst  make  me  clean. 

This  fire  hath  two  effects :  it  works  purity 
and  activity  ;  it  takes  away  sin,  and  puts  in 
spirit  and  life  for  obedience.  And  here  Thy 
sin  is  purged,  and  then  says  be,  ver.  8,  Here 
am  I :  send  me.  And  the  former  is  effectual 
toward  the  latter  :  the  more  the  soul  is  cleans- 
ed, the  more  alive  and  able  it  is  made  foi 
service.  The  purging  out  of  those  sickly  hu» 
mors  makes  it  more  vigorous  and  able 
whereas,  they  abounding  clog  the  spirits,  aud 


Ver.  8. 1 


ON  ISAIAH  VI. 


401 


make  the  vital  operations  heavy  and  weak. 
A  soul  well  cleansed  from  the  love  of  sin,  and 
the  world,  and  self,  is  in  a  healthful  temper, 
and  goes  nimbly  to  any  work.  Outward  dis- 
couragements and  difficulties  are  then  noth- 
ing. A  feverish  distemper  within  hinders  and 
makes  one  lazy  and  unwieldy,  unwilling  and 
unable  to  labor :  but  that  well  purged  and 
cured,  he  cares  less  for  the  hot  weather  with- 
out ;  strength  of  nature  endures  that  more 
easily.  Oh,  how  sweet  to  be  thus  actuated 
by  love,  a  pure  intention  and  desire  of  doing 
God  service,  and  of  bringing  him  in  glory  ! 
Other  motives,  or  the  mixtures  of  them,  are 
base  ;  and  though  God  may  make  use  some- 
times of  such,  yet  he  sees  within,  and  knows 
what  spring  makes  the  wheels  go,  and  he 
gives  them  their  reward  here, — somewhat 
possibly  of  that  they  seek,  success,  and  credit, 
and  a  name  ;  but  the  after-reward  of  faithful 
servants  they  need  not  look  for  in  that  work  : 
for  they  receive  their  reward,  and  can  they 
expect  more  ?  Many  a  Here  am  /,  comes 
from  other  incentives  than  an  allnr  cnal ;  and 
so  they  burn  and  shine  a  while,  but  they 
soon  consume  and  die  out  in  a  snuff:  the 
heavenly  altar-fire  alone  keeps  in,  and  returns 
to  heaven  where  it  was  kindled. 

There  is  many  a  iiot,  furious  march  under 
the  semblance  and  name  of  zeal  for  God,  that 
joves  to  be  seen  ;  as  Jehu,  2  Kings  x.  16. 
Come  wtth  mc  and  aee  my  zpril  for  the  Lord. 
Such  persons  may  flatter  themselves  into  that 
conceit  in  the  heat  of  action  to  think  it  is  for 
God,  while  he  sees  through  it,  and  judges  it 
as  it  is,  zeal  for  self  and  their  own  interest ; 
and  he  gives  them,  accordingly,  some  hire- 
lingjourneyrnan's  wages,  and  then  turns  them 
oft".  But  oil,  where  the  heart  is  purely  actu- 
ated by  a  desire  of  his  glory,  and  seeks  noth- 
ing else,  for  such  remains  that  blessed  word, 
Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,  enter 
into  thy  mastcr^s  joy. 

This,  then,  is  to  be  sought  for  by  ministers 
and  eminent  servants  in  public  affairs,  yea, 
by  all  that  offer  any  service  to  God,  a  readi- 
ness from  love.  Something  of  this  there  is  in 
all  who  are  truly  his,  though  held  down  in 
many,  and  almost  smothered  with  rul)bish  : 
and  in  these  there  is  some  mixture  of  flesh 
drawing  back.  The  spirit  is  ready,  hut  the 
flesh  ts  iveak,  and  a  load  to  it,  hindering  its 
working;  and  this  strife  is  often  found  as  a 
horse  to  an  uiiskillul  rider,  at  once  pricked 
wiih  the  spur  and  checked  with  the  bridle. 
But  where  this  spirit  of  love  is,  it  doth  pre- 
vail, and  wastes  that  opposition  daily,  and 
groweth  in  strength,  becomes  more  quick  and 
ready,  more  freed  from  sel'f,  and  more  actua- 
ted by  the  will  of  God  ;  attaining  somewhat 
further  in  that  conformity  with  heaven, 
where  shall  be  no  will  striving,  but  his  alone  ; 
where  those  glorious  bright  spirits  stand  ready 
for  all  commands,  ivho  excel  in  strength, 
and  employ  it  all  to  do  his  commandments. 
Psalm  ciii.  20.  And  the  more  like  them  we 
be  here,  the  more  lively  hope  have  we  to  be 
5J 


'  shortly  with  them,  and  to  be  wholly  as  they 
,  are. 

j  Ver.  8.  Also,  I  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord,  saying, 
j  Whom  shall  I  send,  and  who  will  go  for  us  ?  Then 
j     said  I,  Here  am  1  :  send  me. 

This  intjuiry  imports  not  a  doubtful  delib- 
I  eration  in  God,  but  a  purpose  to  send.    He  is 
j  represented  as  a  king,  advising  with  himself 
I  or  his  council.    And  this  is  by  some  conceived 
as  an  intimation  of  the  mystery  of  the  Trini- 
:  ty,  as  Gen.  i.  26,  And  Godstid,  Let  u.t  make 
!  man  in  our  own  image. —  Whom  shall  I  send, 
and  who  will  go  for  us  ?    But  were  there  not 
ready,  millions  of  these  winged  messengers  ? 
What  need,  then,  of  such  a  word  ?    True  ; 
angels  were  ready,  but  a  man  was  sought. 
God,  vouchsafing  to  send  an  embassy  to  men, 
will  send  one  that  might  speak  their  language 
to  them,  and  might  stay  and  treat  with  them 
in  a  familiar,  friendly  way,  an  ambassador  in 
ordinary,  to  lie  still  and  treat  with  them.  And 
in  this  condescension  much  wisdom  and  love 
appear.    He  will  take  men,  subject  to  the 
like  infirmities  and  pollutions  with  the  peo- 
ple, as  the  prophet  here  acknowledges,  but 
!  one  purged  from  these  pollutions,  made  holy  ; 
I  though  not  perfectly,   yet  eminently  holy. 
I  This  is  very  suitable  ;  were  not  men  invinci- 
I  biy  obstinate,  more  suitable  than  that  God 
should  send  by  angels,  that  one  of  themselves 
should  come  and  deal  with  men  for  God,  and 
I  bear  witness  of  his  graciousness  and  readi- 
ness to  forgive,  so  as  to  give  himself  for  an  in- 
stance of  it,  and  say,  "  I  have  found  him  so." 
And  they  being  changed  and  sanctified,  show 
really  that  the  thing  may  be  done  ;  that  it  is 
feasible  to  sanctify  a  sinner ;  and  so,  sinful 
men  appear  to  be  fitter  for  this  service  than 
imbodied  angels. 

/  said.  Here  am  I :  send  me.]  What  a 
blessed  change  was  wrought  on  Paul,  when 
I  cast  to  the  ground  !  His  own  will  was  bro- 
ken all  to  pieces,  and  now  he  is  only  for  his 
service,  whose  name  he  so  hated,  and  whose' 
servants  he  persecuted.  Lord,  what  wilt  thou 
hax^e  me  to  do  ?  Acts  ix.  6.  These  are  the 
very  words  and  characters  of  a  true  convert. 
And  thus,  a  soul  turned  to  Christ  may  in 
some  cases  doubt  what  is  his  will,  but  that 
once  resolved,  there  is  no  deliberation  wheth- 
er to  do  it  or  not.  He  says  not,  if  the  service 
be  honorable  or  profitable,  that  is,  carrying 
I  worldly  credit  or  profit  in  it,  then  will  I  do  it  ; 
no,  but  whatever  it  is,  if  it  be  thine,  and  thou 
appoint  me  to  it.  Here  am  /.  And  thi:-  makes 
the  meanest  work  of  his  station  excellent. 

Then  said  /,  Here  am  /.]  A  strange  change 
in  the  prophet ;  even  but  now  an  undone  man, 
and  here  presently  a  ready  messengei ,  and  so 
turned  to  an  angef.  Somethmg  of  this,  most 
find  who  are  truly  called  to  this  high  work  of 
delivering  messages  from  God  :  sometimes  a 
sense  of  pollution  benumbs  and  strikes  them 
dead,  and  anon  again  they  feel  the  flame  of 
love  kindled  by  that  coal,  quickening  them  to 
i  such  a  readiness,  and  such  free  ofl'ers  of  them- 


402 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURES 


[Lect.  III. 


selves  to  service,  as,  to  those  who  understand 
not  the  reason  of  it,  would  seem  presumptu- 
ous fiifwardness.  And  there  may  be  in  some 
minds,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  a  strange 
mixture  and  counterworking  of  these  two  to- 
gether ;  a  sense  of  unfitness  and  unwortiiiness 
drawing  back,  and  yet  the  strength  of  love 
driving  forward,  thinking  thus,  how  can  I, 
who  am  so  filthy,  so  vile,  speak  of  God  ?  Yet 
he  hath  shown  me  mercy  !  How  then  can  I 
be  silent  ? 

Se?id  /nr.]  Moses's  reluctance,  this  same 
prophet  would  have  vented  too,  before  the 
touch  of  the  coal,  while  he  said.  Wo  is  me,  I 
am  undone,  or  struck  down,  as  the  word  may 
signify  ;  he  can  not  speak  with  such  unholy 
lips  of  so  holy  a  God.  Isaiah  cries  out  of 
polluted  lips,  as  Moses  complained  of  stam- 
merin^  hps.  And  this  is  fit  to  precede,  first, 
a  sense  of  extreme  inability  and  unworthiness, 
and  then,  upon  a  change  and  call,  ready  obe- 
dience. A  man  once  undone  and  dead,  and 
then  recovered,  is  the  only  fit  messenger  for 
God.  In  such  a  one,  love  overcomes  all  dif- 
ficulties both  without  and  within,  and  in  his 
work  no  constraint  is  he  feeling  but  that  of  love ; 
and  where  that  is,  no  other  will  be  needed. 
The  sweet,  all-powerful  constraint  of  love  will 
send  thee  all-cheerful,  though  it  were  through 
fire  or  water:  no  water  can  quench  it,  nor 
fire  out-burn  it ;  it  burns  hotter  than  any  other 
tindled  against  it.  After  the  touch  of  that 
coal,  no  forbearing.  So  Jer.  xx.  9:  But  his 
word  was  in  my  heart  as  a  burning  fire  shut 
up  in  my  bones,  and  I  was  weary  with  for- 
bearing, I  could  not  stay.  Feed  the  fiock  of 
God  which  is  amon  g  you,  says  St.  Peter,  taking 
the  oversight  thereof,  not  by  constraint,  but 
willingly  ;  not  for  filthy  lucre,  but  of  a  ready 
mind.  1  Pet.  v.  2.  Yet  the  prophet  says,  Send 
me.  Though  he  had  so  ardent  a  desire  and 
readiness  to  go,  yet  he  will  not  go  unsent,  but 
humbly  offers  himself,  and  waits  both  for  his 
commission  and  instruction:  and  how  awful 
are  they  ! 


LECTURE  in. 

Ver.  9.  And  he  said.  Go  and  tell  this  people,  Hear  ye 
iiult'fd,  but  understand  not ;  and  see  ye  indeed,  but 
perceive  not. 

Ver.  10.  Make  the  heart  of  this  people  fat,  and  make 
their  ears  heavy,  and  slmt  tfieir  eyes  ;  lest  they 
see  with  their  eyes,  and  hear  with  their  ears,  anil 
understand  with  their  heart,  and  convert,  and  be 
he;Ucd. 

His  message,  you  see,  is  most  sad.  and  so 
he  is  put  to  it,  put  to  the  trial  of  his  obedience, 
as  men  usually  are  according  to  the  degree  of 
their  fitness.  Nothing  is  more  sweet  to  a 
messenge'-  than  to  have  good  news  to  carry. 
Oh,  it  is  a  blessed  sweet  thing  to  convert 
souls !  But  how  heavy  to  harden  them  by 
preachins  !  Yet  thus  it  is  to  many  at  some 
times,  and  almost  generally  lo  all.  Certainly, 
beiore  Uiis,  much  had  been  heard  and  despised : 


they  had  been  hardening  their  own  hearts,  and 
now  they  siiall  have  enough  of  U  ;  their  very 
sins  shall  be  their  plague,  a  plagueofail  others 
the  most  terrible,  yet,  as  was  said  above,  there 
are  times  of  the  height  of  this  plague,  as  of 
others,  and  this  was  one  of  those  limes  of  its 
raging  mortality.  The  prophet  did  nothing 
but  i)reach,and  yet  they  were  siupitied  by  it. 
And  indeed,  wherever  the  word  does  not  soften 
and  quicken,  il  hardens  and  kills  ;  and  the 
more  lively  the  ministry  of  the  word  is  where 
it  works  this  effect,  the  more  deeply  doth  it 
work  it. 

This  was  verified  on  the  Jews:  though 
then  God's  own  people,  yet  is  was  verified  on 
them  to  the  utmost.  And  this  context  is  often 
cited  against  them  in  the  New  Testament ; 
no  place  so  often.  So  excellent  a  preacher 
as  Isaiah,  and  so  Avell  reputed  among  his 
people,  yet  was  sent  to  preach  them  blind, 
and  deaf,  and  dead.  And  this  same  dues  the 
gospel  to  most  of  many  a  congregation  in 
Scotland  :  and  the  more  of  Christ  that  is 
spoken,  the  more  are  unbelievers  hardened. 
Isaiah,  the  most  evangelical  of  all  the  proph- 
ets, was  yet  brought  to  that.  Who  hath  be- 
lieved our  report  ?  Yea,  this  M^as  fulfilled  ia 
the  preaching  of  Christ  himself;  as  the  hotter 
the  sun,  the  more  is  the  clay  hardened. 

Go  tell  this  people.']  Observe  the  mighty- 
power  of  the  word,  to  w.hatsoever  it  is  sent. 
As  it  is  wonderfully  efficacious  for  softening, 
melting,  reducing  to  God,  so,  if  it  be  sent  to 
harden,  to  seal  to  judgment,  to  bring  in  and 
hasten  it  :  and  therefore  it  is  spoken  of  as  ef- 
fecting the  things  it  speaks:  as  in  Jer.  i.  10, 
See,  I  have  this  day  set  thee  over  the  nations, 
and  over  the  kingdoms,  to  root  out,  and  to  pull 
doum,  and  to  destroy,  and  to  throw  down,  to 
build  and  to  vlant.  So  Ezek.  xliii.  .S,  and 
Hos.  vi.  5.  Tnerefore,  despise  it  not.  Spirit- 
ual judgments  are  the  heaviest  of  all  :  though 
least  felt  for  a  time,  yet  they  stick  closest, 
and  prove  saddest  in  the  end.  The  not  feel- 
ing, is  a  great  part  of  the  plague  :  in  this  is 
the  nature  and  malignity  of  the  disease,  that 
if  takes  away  the  sight  and  sense  of  other 
things,  and  of  itself.  The  plague  is  a  disease 
seizing  on  the  spirits,  and  therefore  is  so  dan- 
gerous ;  but  this  seizes  only  on  the  spirit  of 
the  mind  :  and  is  anything  so  dreadful  ?  Oh, 
any  plague  but  that  of  the  heart.  People 
think  it  a  good  thing  not  to  feel  the  word,  not 
to  be  troubled.  Well,  as  they  love  this,  they 
are  filled  with  it,  and  shall  have  enough  of  it 
So  in  self-love,  sui  amator  sibi  dat.  God  i3 
righteous  and  pure  in  this.  There  are  many 
cavils  about  his  working  on  the  heart  lo  har- 
den, which  arise  from  an  ignorant,  low  con- 
ceil  of  God,  as  of  a  dependant  being,  or  tied 
to  laws,  or  to  give  account.  '^Vt  o.nght  rather 
to  tremble  before  him.  He  doth  no  inu/uity, 
and  we  shall  be  forced  to  confess  it.  Many 
ways  of  his  are  obscure,  but  none  are  unjust. 
Find  we  not  this  people  sit  under  the  sound, 
and  are  many  of  them  as  if  absent,  as  if  they 
had  never  heard  such  things  spoken  of;  so 


Ver.  11,  12.] 


ON  ISAIAH  VI. 


403 


grossly  ignorant  of  all  these  ?  Ht^  ing,  theij 
ht  ir,  but  understand  not.  Otherb  are  yet 
worse  :  they  get  a  kind  of  knowledge,  but  it 
'is  dead,  and  works  nothing.  These  see,  and 
yet  perceive  not,  and  know  not  even  what 
they  know.  Most  are  of  this  sort,  and  they 
are  of  all  others  the  worst  to  convince.  When 
they  are  told  of  Christ  and  forgiveness  of  sins, 
and  are  entreated  to  believe  these  mysteries, 
they  cry  out,  "  Oh  !  we  do,  we  know  them, 
and  can  answer,  if  you  ask  us,  what  these 
doctrines  are."  But  the  heart  is  not  changed, 
no  sin  is  forsaken,  no  study  of  holiness,  no 
flame  of  love.  This  not  perceiving,  is  the 
great  judgment  of  this  land  :  this  the  great 
cause  of  lamentation,  that  Christ  is  so  much 
known,  and  yet  known  so  little.  People  do 
not  think  whither  it  tends,  and  what  the  im- 
portance of  this  message  is.  They  hear  it  as 
a  passing  tale,  or,  at  the  best,  as  for  the  pres- 
ent, a  pleasing  sound,  a  lovely  song,  Ezekiel 
xxxiii.  32  :  and  if  by  an  able  minister,  as  sung 
by  a  good  voice  :  but  no  impression  is  made, 
it  dies  out  in  the  air,  it  enters  not  into  their 
hearts  to  quicken  them,  and  so  their  evil  is 
the  more  deadly.  Oh  I  bemoan  this,  beg  the 
removal  of  it  above  all  judgments,  and  the 
sending  forth  of  that  Spirit  who  causes  the 
mountains  to  flow  down.  Isa.  Ixiv.  1.  Many 
of  you,  my  brethren,  may  he  under  somewhat 
of  this,  as  there  are  divers  degrees  of  it  ere  it 
comes  to  he  incurable.  Oh  I  pray  to  be  de- 
livered, lest  it  grow  so  far  that  be  in  vain  to 
bid  you  do  so.  Belter  to  be  cast  into  extreme 
terrors  for  a  time  than  to  continue  thus  :  bet- 
ter to  fall  into  a  fever,  than  into  this  lethargy, 
which  makes  you  sleep  to  death. 

Cfliwert,  and  be  healed.]  These  two  go  to- 
gether :  all  miseries  are  healed,  and  £rrace  and 
favor  flow  forth,  when  once  the  soul  is  stirred 
up  to  seek  after  God,  and  turn  unto  him.  Oth- 
er courses  of  healing  public  or  private  evils, 
are  but  mountebank  cures,  which  vex  and  tor- 
ment, a»  unapt  physic  does,  and  do  no  good  ; 
yea,  make  things  worse  than  before.  See 
Hosea  v.  13,  compared  with  ch.  vi.  1  :  When 
Ephraim  saw  his  sickness,  and  Judah  his 
wound,  then  went  Ephraim  to  the  Assyrian, 
and  sent  to  King  Jareh  ;  yet  could  he  not  heal 
you,  nor  cure  you  of  your  wound. — Come  and 
let  us  return  unto  the  Lord,  for  he  hath  torn, 
and  he  will  heal  us  ;  he  hath  smitten,  and  he 
will  bind  us  up. 

There  is  much  in  a  custom  of  fruitless  hear- 
ing, to  stupify  and  make  hard — to  make  men 
sermon-proof.  And  the  hearing  of  the  most 
excellent,  hardens  most,  both  against  them, 
and  against  all  others  that  are  their  inferiors  ; 
for  being  accustomed  to  hear  the  most  moving 
strains  unmoved,  makes  them  scorn,  and  ca-  , 
sily  jeat  hack  that  which  is  less  pressing.  A  i 
largely  endued  and  very  spiritual  minister,  is 
either  one  of  the  highest  blessings,  or  heavi- 
c"st  curses,  that  can  come  U()on  a  people.  1 

Hearing,  hear  not.]  This  even  the  minis- 
ters themselves  may  fall  under:  speakers  may 
have  no  ears,  as  the  Italian  proverb  says  of  1 


1  preachers,  "  They  do  not  hear  their  own 
voice."   They  may  grow  hard,  by  custom  of 
speaking  of  Divine  things  without  Divine  af- 
'  fection  ;  so  that  nothing  themselves  or  others 
[  say,  can  work  on  them.    Hence  it  is  that  so 
few  formal  dead  ministers  are  converted,  that 
I  one  said,  Raro  vidi  clericum  pcenttente/n  ;  so 
;  hardened  are  they  against  the  means  of  con- 
viction, in  which  they  have  been  so  long  con- 
versant, and  not  converted  by  them.  They 
I  have  been  speaking  so  often  of  lieaven  and 
hell,  and  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  feeling  nothing 
'  of  them,  that  the  words  have  lost  their  power, 
and  they  are  grown  hard  as  the  skin  of  levia- 
!  than,  esteeming  iron  as  straw,  and  brass  as 
.  rotten  wood.    And  this,  by-ihe-way,  beside 
I  that  God's  dispensation  is  so  fixed,  may  be  a 
reason  why  that  sin  mentioned  in  the  sixth 
chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  is  un- 
pardonable ;  it  is,  in  the  nature  of  lhin£is, 
without  such  a  miracle  as  God  will  not  exert, 
impossible  that  they  who  have  stood  out  such 
things  in  vain,  should  be  renewed.  This 
should  make  us  who  are  ministers,  especially 
to  tremble  at  an  unholy  life,  or  at  the  thought 
of  declining  from  those  ways  of  religion,  of 
which  we  have  known  so  much,  and  for  which 
we  have  so  many  means  of  improvement. 

Ver.  11.  Then  said  I,  Lord,  how  long?  And  he  an- 
swered, Until  the  cities  be  wasted  without  inli;il)it- 
ant,  and  tlie  houses  without  man,  and  the  land  be 
utterly  desolate  ; 
Ver.  12.  And  the  Lord  have  removed  men  far  away, 
anil  there  be  a  great  forsaking  in  the  midst  of  the 
land. 

Now  this  judgment  fastening,  we  are  sure 
to  draw  on  all  other  judgments.  Therefore, 
the  prophet,  touched  with  compassion,  in- 
quires. How  long?  and  receives  a  very  sad 
answer.  Until  the  cities  he  wasted.  God  is 
sovereignly  free  in  this  ;  but  usually  he  keeps 
thatcourse,  that  long-continued  and  spared  sin- 
ning, makes  long-continued  calamities  when 
they  come  ;  judgments,  as  the  ancients  thought 
comets  to  be,  are  as  lasting  as  the  matter  is 
they  are  kindled  with  ;  and  truly,  upon  this 
account,  we  may  justly  apprehend  that  our 
troubles  are  but  just  beginning,  rather  than 
■  near  their  end.  Vet,  repentance  might  pre- 
vail for  the  shortening  of  them  :  those  sweet 
showers  soonest  lay  the  stormy  winds. 

And  this  consideration  may  have  something 
hopeful  in  it,  that  in  these  latter  times,  things 
move  something  more  speedily,  as  natural 
motions  do  toward  their  end  ;  for  a  short  vuirk 
will  God  make  upon  the  earth,  the  apostle's 
word  is;  and  we  see  in  our  particular  straits 
that  were  greatest,  that  the  Lord  bath  made 
them  short  even  beyond  our  expectation  ;  and 
what  remains  is  in  his  hand.  I  trust  he  will- 
hasten  the  defeat  of  the  plots  and  power  of 
his  enemies:  and  doubt  not  all  the  late  and 
present  commotions  of  these  poor  kingdoms 
are  the  birih-panirs  of  a  happy  deliverance 
and  peace,  and  when  they  grow  thickest,  it  is 
nearest  the  birth. 

How  long  .<*]    Observe  the  compassion  of 


404 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURE 


[Ver.  3 


the  messengers  of  God,  not  desiring  the  evil 
day,  hut  niourninir  fijr  it,  piiying  those  tiiey 
denounce  judgment  against,  and  melting  for 
those  they  harden. 

Till  ihc  cities  be  wasted.']  Thjs  intimates 
tliere  would  be  no  relenting" ffuVTer  all  these 
judgments,  hut  that  these,  as  well  as  the 
word,  and  together  with  it,  would  harden 
them  more,  till  they  were  almost  quite  con- 
sumed And  this  is  usual.  Men  think  it 
Would  De  oil^«rwise,  but  it  is  found  that  times 
of  great  plagues  and  judgments  are  not  times 
of  great  conversion  :  men  are  then  more  hard- 
ened both  against  the  word  and  the  rod  ;  their 
s])irits  grow  stiff  and  obdurate  in  a  kind  of 
desperation.  But  mercy,  coming  as  the  spring 
sunshine,  mollifies,  and  dissolves,  and  makes 
fruitful ;  therefore  such  a  day  is  to  be  longed 
for.  I  suspect  we  sliall  not  see  much  done 
by  the  gospel  till  then  ;  and  before  that,  we 
may  suffer  yet  more  dismal  things,  and  be 
wasted  with  pestilence,  sword,  and  famine. 
Yet  there  is  comfort  in  this,  the  Lord  will  not 
make  a  full  end  of  us :  a  tenth  shall  be  left  ; 
and  if  not  we,  yet  at  least  our  posterity  shall 
reap  the  sweet  fruits  of  our  bitter  calamities, 
which  are  the  just  fruits  of  our  iniquities. 


Ver.  13.  Hut  ypt  in  it  shall  be  a  tonth,  and  it  slial 
roliirii,  and  slmll  lie  oulon  ;  as  a  lcil-lr<o,  and  as  ab 
oak,  whose  suhstauce  is  in  tlioni  wlicn  they  cast 
their  leaves,  so  the  holy  seed  shall  be  the  subjtance 
thereof. 

There  is  still  a  remnant  holy  to  God,  the 
preservers  of  aland  from  utter  ruin.  Profane 
persons  despise  the  children  of  God,  and  know 
not  that  they  are  beholden  to  them  for  the 
subsistence  of  the  land,  and  of  the  world  : 
they  are  as  those  oaks,  whose  roots  did  bear 
up  the  earth  of  that  highway  that  went  be- 
tween the  king's  house  and  the  temple,  as  the 
resemblance  is  taken  by  some. 

In  judgments,  the  Lord  remembers  that. 
Destroy  it  not,  there  is  a  blessing  in  it.  As 
for  the  personal  condition  of  believers,  there- 
may  be  a  great  decay,  a  winter  vjpage  may 
be  upon  it ;  but  yet,  the  holy  seed  abidelh  in 
them,  and  is  ttieir  stability,  and  still  that 
Word  is  true  that  is  borrowed  hence.  Semen 
sanctum,  staturnen  terra: :  The  holy  seed,  the 
subsistence  or  establishment  of  the  earth. 
When  their  number  is  completed,  time  shall 
end,  and  this  visible  world  shall  be  set  on  fire. 
And  this  day  is  hastening  forward,  though 
most  of  us  think  but  little,  if  at  all,  of  it. 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURE  ON  ROMANS  XII.  3  12. 


Ver.  3.  For  I  say,  thrr.ngh  the  grace  given  unto  me, 
to  every  man  that  is  among  you,  not  to  think  of 
himself  more  highly  than  he  ought  to  think  ;  but  to 
think  soberly,  according  as  God  hath  dealt  to  every 
man  the  measure  of  faith. 

Beside  the  common  word  of  edification  im- 
plying it,  we  find  often  in  the  Scriptures, 
te'achins;  compared  to  building  ;  and,  among 
other  things,  the  resemblance  holds  in  this, 
that  in  both,  of  necessity,  there  is  a  founda- 
tion first  to  be  laid,  and  then  the  structure  to 
be  raised  upon  it.  He  that  gives  rules  of  life, 
without  first  fixing  principles  of  faith,  offers 

f»reposterously  at  building  a  house  without 
aying  a  foundation  :  and  he  that  instructs 
what  to  believe,  and  directs  not  withal  a  be- 
liever how  to  live,  doth  in  vain  lay  a  founda- 
tion without  following  out  the  building.  But 
the  apostles  wei'e  not  so  foolish  builders  as 
to  sever  these  two  in  their  labors  in  the 
church.  In  this  epistle  we  find  our  apostle 
excellently  acquitting  himself  in  both  these. 
He  first  largely  and  firmly  lays  the  ground- 
work, in  the  foretroing  part  of  the  epistle: 
now,  he  adds  exhortations  and  directions 
touching  the  particular  duties  of  Christians. 

The  first  thing,  certain  y,  to  be  done  with 
«  soul,  is,  to  convince  it  of  sin  and  death,  then 


to  address  and  lead  it  unto  Christ,  our  righ- 
teousness and  life  ;  this  done,  it  should  be 
taught  to  follow  him.  This  is  Christianity, 
to  live  in  Christ,  and  to  live  to  Christ ;  to  live 
in  him  by  faith,  and  to  live  to  him  in  holiness. 
These  our  apostle  joined  in  his  doctrine,  ch. 
viii.  1  :  There  is  therefore  now  no  condemnor 
tion  to  them  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  who 
walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  Spirit. 

The  exhortation  that  begins  this  chapter, 
hath  in  it  the  whole  sum  of  Christian  obedi- 
ence, fitly  exi>ressed  and  strongly  urged  ;  and 
in  that  are  all  particular  rules  comprised. 

But  because  of  our  ignorance  and  our  sloth, 
we  do  not  always  readily  draw  forth  particu- 
lars from  those  comprehensive  general  rules 
wherein  they  lie ;  we  need,  therefore,  to  be 
assisted  in  this ;  and  to  this  the  Scriptures  de- 
scend, particularly  the  apostles  in  their  epis- 
tles, and  that  usually  in  the  latter  part  of 
them.  And  this  is  a  main  part  of  our  duty  in 
preaching  the  word,  often  to  represent  these 
rules  to  you,  not  so  much  that  you  may  un- 
derstand them  better,  though  somewhat  of 
this  likewise,  may  be  needful,  as  that  you 
may  remember  them,  and  eye  them  more, 
and  walk  according  to  them  ;  and  there  is  no 
more  in  these  things  truly  known,  than  what 


Veb  3.] 


ON  KOMANS  XII. 


405 


is  known  after  this  manner.  I  have  endeav- 
ored, in  the  course  of  ray  teaching,  to  reach 
this  end.  My  design,  and  I  hope  yours  like- 
wise, hath  been,  not  lo  pass  so  much  time, 
nor  to  pass  it  with  empty  delight,  which  in 
other  things  might  be  done  at  an  easy  rate, 
but  that  you  be  really  built  up  heavenward, 
and  increase  with  the  increase  of  God  ;  that 
the  truth  and  power  of  Christianiiy  may 
possess  our  hearts,  and  grow  there,  and  may 
be  evident  in  our  lives,  to  the  glory  of  our 
Lord  Jesus. 

We  shall  endeavor  to  lay  before  you  the 
particular  graces  that  are  the  ornaments  of 
Christians ;  and  this,  not  that  you  may  look 
on  them  simply,  and  commend  them,  but 
that  you  may  pursue  them,  and  be  clothed 
with  them,  and  then  they  will  be  much  more 
comely  and  commendable:  as  a  robe  of  rich 
apparel,  if  it  seem  fine  while  it  tiangs  or  lies 
by,  it  appears  far  better  when  it  is  put  on. 

The  rules  the  apostle  is  to  give,  he  prefa- 
ces thus.  For  I  nay,  through  the  grace  given 
to  me — I  speak  as  the  messenger  or  aposile 
of  Christ,  according  to  that  knowledge  and 
experience  that  he  hath  given  to  me  of  these 
things ;  and  so  take  it,  as  from  one  that  hath 
some  interest  in,  and  share  of,  these  graces  I 
recommend  to  you.  And  this,  indeed,  makes 
recommendations  carry  home.  Oh,  that  we 
could  truly  say  this!  Alas  I  it  is  an  uncom- 
fortable, and  commonly  an  unprofitable  thing, 
to  speak  of  Christ  and  the  graces  of  his  Spir- 
it, only  as  having  heard  of  them,  or  read  of 
them,  as  men  that  travel  in  their  studies,  do 
of  foreign  countries. 

Ac'<  -^I'miT^i.  The  apostle  represents  this, 
lo  add  the  more  authority,  and  gain  the  more 
acceptance,  to  what  he  had  to  say  ;  and  for 
this  end,  some  care  is  to  be  had  of  the  good 
opinion  of  people,  so  far  as  their  interest  is 
concerned,  that  the  message  we  bring  be  not 
prejudged:  otherwise,  this  truly  set  aside,  it 
were  little  matter  how  we  were  mistaken  or 
despised,  yea,  it  were  a  thing  someway  de- 
sirable ;  only  provided  nothing  be  d(jne  on 
purpose  that  may  justly,  yea,  or  that  may 
probably,  procure  it,  for'  that  both  piety  and 
charity  forbid. 

To  ereri/  man.]  This  is  more  pressing  than 
if  he  had  said  simply,  to  ?/o?<,or  ijenerally,  to 
you  all ;  for  in  men's  talking  of  things,  it 
proves  often  too  true,  Qund  oinnihux,  nnrnni, 
What  is  said  to  all,  is  said  to  no  one  :  but  to 
every  one,  that  each  one  may  suppose  it  spo- 
ken to  hiru,  as  an  ingenious  jjiciure  looking 
to  «ich  in  the  room.  Thus  we  ought  to 
speak,  and  thus  ye  ought  to  hear.  We  to 
speak,  not  as  telling  some  unconcerning  sto- 
ries, but,  as  having  business  with  you  ;  and 
Vou  to  hear,  not  each  for  anf)ther,  as  you  of- 
ten do — "Oh!  such  a  passage  touched  such 
a  one" — but  each  for  himself. 

The  first  particular  the  apostle  recom- 
mends, is  that  gracing  grace  of  humility,  the 
ornament  and  the  safety  of  all  oilier  ffraces, 
and  which  is  so  peculiarly  Christian.  Some- 


what philosophers  speak  of  temperance,  jus- 
tice, and  other  like  virtues,  but  these  tend 
ratiier  to  blow  up  and  swell  the  mind  with 
big  conceit  and  confidence  of  itself,  than  to 
dwell  together  with  self-abasement  and  hu- 
mility. But  in  the  school  of  Christ,  the  first 
lesson  of  all  is,  self-denial  and  humtlity  ;  yea, 
it  is  written  above  the  door,  as  the  rule  of 
entry  or  admission,  Learn  of  me.,  for  I  am 
meek  and  lowhj  of  heart.  And  out  of  all 
question,  that  is  truly  the  humblest  heart 
which  hath  most  of  Christ  in  it. 

Not  to  think  highly.]  Not  aspiring  and  in- 
tending in  things  too  high.  And  a  great 
point  of  humility  is  subjection  to  God  in  the 
point  of  knowledge  ;  in  this  was  our  first 
climbing  that  proved  our  fall ;  and  yet  still, 
amid  all  our  ignorance  and  darkness,  we  are 
'  catching  and  gaping  after  the  deadly  fruit  of 
unallowed  knowledge. 

I     This,  withal,  hath  in  it  the  attempering  of 

I  our  thoughts  and  practices  to  our  measure 
and  station ;  to  know  ourselves  truly  and 
thoroughly :  for  that  will  certainly  beget  a 
very  low  esteem  of  ourselves,  to  judge  our- 
selves the  unworthiest  and  meanest  of  all. 

And  having  truly  this  estimate  of  ourselves, 
we  shall  not  vainly  attempt  anything  above 
our  reach,  nor  disdainfully  neglect  anything 
that  is  witliin  the  compass  of  our  calling  and 
duty  ;  which  are  the  two  evils  so  commoa 
among  men,  yea  even  among  Christians,  and 
in  the  church  of  God,  and  are  the  cause  of 
most  of  the  enormities  and  disorders  that  fall 
out  in  it.  It  is  strange  blindness,  that  they 
who  do  grossly  miscarry  in  the  duties  of  their 
own  siaiion,  yet  so  readily  faticy  themselves 
capable  of  somewhat  higher,  and  think  tliem- 

I  selves  wronged  if  it  he  refused  them. 

I  The  self-knowing  Christian  would  rather 
descend,  and  finds  himself  very  dispropor- 
tioned  to  his  present  station,  be  it  never  so 
mean.  He  can  say  with  David,  Lord,  my 
heart  is  not  haughty,  nor  mine  eyes  lofty; 
neither  do  I  exercise  myself  in  great  matters, 
or  in  things  loo  high  for  me.  Psalm  cxxxi.  1. 

I  But  vain  minds  would  still  be  tam])ering  with 

i  the  greatest  affairs,  and  dwell  not  with  them- 

I  selves.  Oh  I  my  brethren,  he  entreated  io 
study  your  own  hearts  better.  Be  less  abroad 
in  things  that  concern  you  not.    There  is 

I  work  enough  within  you  :  heaps  of  base 
lusis,  and  self-deceits,  and  follies,  that  you 
see  not  yet ;  and  many  advantages  of  good 
things  you  seem  to  see  in  yourselves,  that  in- 
deed are  not  there.  Sell-love  is  a  flattering 
glass,  which  represents  us  to  ourselves  much 
fairer  than  we  are  :  therefore  turn  from  it,  if 

I  you  desire  a  true  account  of  yourselves,  and 
look  into  the  pure  and  faithful  mirror  of  God's 
law.  Oh  !  what  deformities  will  that  dis- 
cover, which  you  never  saw  nor  thought  of 
before:  it  will  make  you  the  lowest  of  all 
persons  in  your  own  eyes. 

This  low  self-esteem  doth  not  wiiolly  take 
away  the  sinifile  knowledge  of  what  gifts  and 

I  graces  God  hath  bestowed  on  a  man  ;  fo; 


406 


EXPOSITORY  LECTUE& 


[Ver.  4-  » 


that  were  to  make  him  both  uuiliankl'ul  and  I 
uiiusi'ful.    Qui  if  nvscit,  nractl  se  uli.  lie 
who  doth  not  know  what  God  liail;  freely  ! 
given  him,  can  not  return  prait^e  lu  (iod,  nor  \ 
make  use  ol"  liimseli'  lor  God  in  his  station. 
\  ea,  the  apostle's  caution  intimates  a  sober,  | 
huinbl'e  reflection  on  liie  /masiire  Gud  hath  ; 
given  a  man,  as  what  lie  not  only  allows  but 
re(piires  ;  and  hiiu>elf  gives  example  of  i*  in  ! 
hib  own  present  expression,  declaring  that  he  j 
epeaks  tiiese  things  t/irouiik  the  grace  thai  is 
given  to  him.  i 
But  this  knowledge  of  a  man's  own  gifts  | 
and  graces,  that  it  may  not  preclude  his  at- 
taining more,  but  help  him  to  more,  in  the 
humble  acknowledgment  and  use  of  what  he 
hatli,  should  have  these  two  qualifications: 
1.  That  he  beware  of  overweening;  that  he 
take  his  measure  much  below,  rather  than 
any  whit  beyond  what  he  truly  hath.  2.  That 
whatsoever  it  is,  he  always  look  on  it,  not  as 
his  own,  but  as  God's,  having  his  superscrip- 
tion on  it,  and  all  the  glory  of  it  being  his 
peculiar  tribute:  nothing  of  that  to  be  inter- 
rupted or  retained  :  Not  unto  us,  0  Lord,  not 
uitlo  US,  hut  uiiio  thy  name  give  glory.    Still,  i 
all  the  glory  entirely  sent  up  to  him.  Thus, 
here,  the  apostle  sets  all  grace  in  that  view. 
As  God  hath  dispensed  the  measure  ;  and  so 
speaks  of  his  own.  Through  the  grace  given  to 
me.    Still  is  it  to  be  looked  on,  not  as  what 
we  have,  but  as  what  he  hath  given.  That 
is  the  gospel  style,  Grace,  free  gifts — \"r"s 
;^-,ipiT/,nT.i.    Whereas  philosophy  speaks  of  all 
as  habits,  or  havings,  or  possessions. 

Now,  viewed  in  that  relative  dependant 
notion  of  freely  given,  a  man  shall  never  j 
be  puffed  up  by  any  endowments,  though 
he  see  and  know  them  :  yea,  the  more  he 
Knows  them  thus,  he  will  be  the  more  hum- 
ble still,  as  being  the  more  obliged.  The 
more  he  hath  received,  the  greater  they  are, ! 
the  lower  he  bows,  pressed  down  under  the 
weight  of  his  engagements  to  God  :  as  Abra- 
ham fell  on  his  face  when  God  talked  with 
him,  and  made  so  rich  promises  to  him.  Gen. 
xvii.  3.    S*e  David's  strain,  1  Chron.  xxix. 
15:  But  who  am  J,  and  what  is  my  jieople, 
that  we  should  he  able  to  offer  so  ivillingly 
after  this  sort  ?  For  all  things  come  of  thee, 
and  of  thine  awn  have  we  <rivcn  thee.  This! 
the  apostle  gives  as  the  sovereign  preserva- 1 
tive  against  the  swelling  poison  of  conceit, 
W  hat  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not  receive  ? 
1  Cor.  iv.  7.  1 

He  who  is  thus  regulated  in  his  own  es- 
teem, will,  by  this,  certainly,  be  moderated 
in  his  desire  of  esteem  from  others,  and  can  ' 
not  well  meet  with  anything  that  way,  that  j 
will  either  [)ufi'him  up,  or  cast  iiim  down: 
if  overprized  by  others,  betakes  that  as  their  j 
mistake  ;  if  undervalued,  he  rejoices  in  that, ' 
having  set  himself  so  low  in  himself  that  j 
others  can  not  well  set  him  lower.    So  when  ' 
men  account  meanly  of  him,  they  are  really 
of  his  own  opinion  ;  and  you  know  that  of- 
fends none,  that  pleases  them  rather,  to  have  i 


others  agree  with  their  opinions,  and  be  ol 
their  mind. 

They  who  are  busy  after  reputation,  and 
Would  be  esteemed,  are  but  begging  voices  , 
they  would  have  others  think  with  them,  and 
conlirm  the  conclusion  they  have  already  re- 
solved on,  in  favor  of  themselves  :  and  this 
is  a  most  foolish  thing;  for,  disappointed  in 
this,  men  are  discontented,  and  so  their  peice 
hangs  on  others"  fancies  ;  and  if  satisfied  with 
it,  they  surfeit  and  .undo  themselves  with  the 
delight  of  it.  Bees  sometimes  kill  them- 
selves with  their  ovni  honey  ;  and  there  is 
such  a  word  to  this  purpose,  Prov.  xxv.  27  :  It 
IS  not  good  to  eat  much  honey  i  so,  for  men 
to  search  their  own  glory,  is  not  glory. 

Ver.  4, 5.  Kor  as  we  Imvo  many  moinbers  in  pnebodjf 
and  all  inpnibors  have  not  the  same  office  ;  so  , 
being  many,  are  one  body  in  Christ,  and  every  one 
members  one  of  another. 

In  this  consideration  we  have  God's  wis- 
dom manifested,  and  are  instructed  what  is 
our  wisdom.  He,  in  the  great  world,  made 
all  by  weight,  number,  and  measure  ;  so,  in 
the  lesser  world,  man,  and  in  tlie  new  world, 
his  church,  he  proportions  all  to  the  use  he 
hath  designed  them  for.  He  could  give  to 
them  who  have  least,  more  than  the  very 
greatest  have,  but  he  thought  this  unfit:  it 
might  be  some  advantage  to  them,  yet  to  the 
whole  body  not  so;  and  therefore  not  truly 
so  to  them  neither,  being  parts  of  it,  and  hav- 
ing their  good  involved  in  the  good  of  the 
body. 

This  resemblance  is  often  used  in  Scrip- 
ture, and  holds  excellently  well,  but  is  little 
learned.  Our  temper  and  carriage  corresjiond 
not  to  it.  Who  is  there  almost  that  finds  it, 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  in  them,  knitting  them  to 
him  as  the  common  head,  and  one  to  anoth- 
er, as  one  in  him  ;  each  busy  to  advance  him, 
and  so  seeking  his  glory,  and  to  promote  the 
good  of  one  another  ?  But  alas  !  rather  each 
is  for  self,  accursed  self,  as  of  an  independ- 
ent divided  substance  ;  yea  worse,  hating  and 
tearing  one  another,  a  monstrous  sight,  as  if 
one  limb  of  the  same  bt;dy  should  be  pulling 
another  to  pieces.  It  signifies  little  to  tell 
men  what  mutual  tenderness  there  is  in  na- 
ture ;  that  for  a  thorn  in  the  foot,  the  back 
bows,  the  head  stoops,  the  eyes  look,  the 
hands  feel,  and  seek  it,  to  pull  it  out.*  Chris- 
tians are  still  so  rigid,  so  unchristian  to  each 
other,  they  drive  one  another  with  the  thorn 
sticking  in,  forcing  their  brethren  to  ways 
against  the  persuasions  of  their  consciences. 

In  the  following  verses,  viz.,  6,  7,  8,  we 
have  a  specification  of  divers  offices,  and  the 
duties  of  them  ;  the  due  observance  of  which 
is  essential  to  the  peace  and  growth  of  the 
church,  makes  all  go  on  sweetly  and  fruitful- 
ly. But  men  are  either  presumptuously  or 
preposterously  busy  out  of  their  own  station, 
or  slothfully  negligent  in  it;  and  both  these, 
instead  of  edifying,  are  discomposing  and  de« 
stroying  things. 

•  Sjjinani  calcat  pes,  &c. — Aucustiwe. 


Ver.  9.J 


ON  ROMAJSS  Xll. 


407 


Not  to  insist  on  the  distinction  of  offices,  it 
IS  evident,  in  all  enumerations  of  this  kind, 
that  the  same  word  sometimes  means  divers 
things,  and  divers  words  mean  the  same 
thing,  as  mimstri/  may  comprise  all,  though 
sometimes  peculiar  to  deacons,  sometimes  ta- 
ken for  teachers  or  pastors.  Here  it  is  gen- 
eral, and  the  particulars  following  distribute 
ii:  some  are  to  teach,  which  is  doctorial ; 
some  t'j  exhort,  which  is  more  pastoral ;  some 
are  to  i^tve,  which  is  proper  to  deacons  ;  some 
have  their  whole  charge ?o  r7</e, as  elders;  some 
are  particularly  for  attendance  on  the  sick. 

Bui  in  all,  fidelity  and  sedulity  are  requi- 
site. How  high  soever  men  are  placed,  if 
they  are  Unfaithful,  the  higher  judgment 
awaits  them.  How  low  soever,  if  thou  be 
sincere  and  studious  of  thy  duty,  thou  shalt 
sustain  no  loss  by  thy  low  station,  but  rather 
thy  faithfulness  will  be  the  more  set  off 
by  it :  He  that  is  faithful  in  little,  shall  be 
made  ruler  over  much.  Oh,  that  we  were 
more  eaten  up  with  zeal  of  our  L'.'rd's  house 
and  winning  of  souls,  whom  he  deputes  to 
that !  Oh,  that  they  who  rule  would  study 
more  rule  of  their  own  houses,  that  should 
go  before,  and  of  their  own  hearts,  that 
should  be  first  of  all !  Alas  !  how  shall  men 
whose  passions  and  lusts  rule  thetn,  well  rule 
the  house  of  God  ?  Be  afraid  and  wise,  ye 
who  are  called  to  that,  and  know  at  fength, 
what  is  so  generally  either  unknown  or  un- 
considered, the  exemplary  holiness  required 
in  your  persons,  and  the  diligent  watchfulness 
over  the  flock  of  God.  There  are  many  de- 
bates, and  troubles,  and  pains  about  these  our 
liberties,  but  little  diligence  in  the  use  of 
thern.    Congregations  are  still  as  full  of  irn- 

f)iety  and  profaneness  as  ever.  Oh  !  take 
leed,  lest  we  thus  forfeit  them  after  all  they 
have  cost,  and  provoke  God  to  bereave  us  of 
them.  Men  are  busy,  who,  we  know,  arc  not 
friends  to  the  church  of  God.  But  oh,  that 
we  were  more  careful  to  be  on  good  terms 
with  HIM  !  If  HE  be  for  us,  who  can  be 
against  us?  It  is  no  matter  who  be  ;  he  is 
too  wise  and  too  si  ong  for  them  all. 

Ver.  9.  Let  love  be  without  dissimulation.  Abhor 
that  which  is  evil ;  cleave  to  that  which  is  good. 

Till-,  whole  sum  of  the  law  is,  love  ;  love 
to  God,  and  love  lo  man  :  these  two  contain 
all,  and  the  former  of  the  two  contains  the 
latter.  Love  to  God  is  the  only  true  princi- 
ple and  spring  of  all  due  love  toman  and  I 
all  love  that  begins  there,  returns  thither  { 
likewise,  and  ends  there. 

The  engaging  of  the  whole  mind  and  soul 
to  the  love  of  God,  does  not  engross  it  so  that  ' 
there  should  be  no  kind  of  love  communica- 
ble to  man  :  on  the  contrary,  it  is  to  refine  it, 
that  it  may  flow  forth  the  purer  and  better. 
All  love  should  bo  first  called  in  to  God,  to 
be  sublimated  and  purified  there,  and  then 
set  in  its  right  channel  and  motion,  so  as 
man  may  be  loved  in  him  and  f(jr  him  ;  not 
to  impair  our  love  to  him,  but  indeed  to  ex-  i 


tend  and  act  it  as  he  allows.  And  so  to  love 
man,  is  to  love  God,  that  love  taking  its  rise 
from  him,  and  terminating  in  him:  and  in 
this  circle  is  the  proper  motion  of  celestial 
Divine  love. 

The  duty,  then,  here  meant  and  com- 
manded, is  this,  that  we  love  one  another. 
And  our  love  must  be  thus  qualified  ;  it  must 
;  be  unhypocritical  and  sincere,  such  as,  though 
'  it  may  consist  with,  yet  doth  not  wholly  con- 
sist in  civilities  of  expression  and  behavior, 
but  a  real  benevolence  of  soul,  and  good  will 
to  all ;  a  love  disposing  us  readily  to  forgive 
evil,  and  to  do  good  upon  all  occasions. 

Yet  this  is  not  such  a  tenderness  of  com- 
placency as  leads  lo  partake  with  any  in  any 
evil  ways  ;  Oh  !  no  ;  ahhorrinff  that  which  is 
evil,  flying  from  it  with  indignation,  with  a 
kind  of  antipathy.  And  thus  it  will  be  from 
the  new  nature  in  a  Christian,  the  holy  Spirit 
of  Christ,  which  can  not  endure  the  unholi- 
ness  or  im|)urity  of  the  world,  but  is  chased 
away,  as  doves  by  noisome  smells,  or  bees 
by  smoke.  This  delicacy  of  spirit  profane 
men  laugh  at,  as  a  weak,  foolish  meanness ; 
'ut,  fools  as  they  are,  they  know  not  that  it 
I  -ises  from  that  highest  wisdom,  which  is  from 
above,  which  is  indeed,  peaceable,  but  first  is 
])ure,  and  can  admit  of  no  peace  nor  agree- 
ment with  any  i)ersons  or  things  that  are 
impure.  This  is  to  be  like  the  all-wise  God, 
with  whom  wickedness  can  not  dwell:  his 
pure  eyes  can  not  pleasantly  behold  any 
iniquity. 

Oh  !  much  of  the  love  of  God  would  work 
more  hatred  of  sin.  But  if  thy  haired  of 
evil  be  right,  know  it  will  besin  at  home; 
as  we  feel  aversions  and  abhorrences  most 
when  the  things  are  nearest  us.  It  is  not  the 
upright  nature  of  holiness,  to  hate  sin  in  oth- 
ers, and  to  hug  it,  or  spare  it,  in  thyself, 
whether  the  same  kind  of  sin,  or  any  other; 
for  if  this  abhorrence  be  right,  it  is  against 
all  sin,  the  whole,  as  natural  contrarieties 
are,  and  it  is  most  against  it,  where  nearest  tn 
thyself.  It  is  the  true  Divine  fire  of  zes.l, 
kindled  by  the  love  of  God,  that  burns  '  p 
sin,  but  first  that  which  is  nearest  it,  as  a  fi  .e 
in  the  hearth  docs,  and  so  reaches  what  ',s 
farther  off.  But  if  thy  zeal  fly  most  abroid 
upon  others,  it  is  an  unruly,  disordered  wild' 
fire,  cracking  and  squibbing  up  and  down, 
good  for  nothing  but  to  set  houses  and  towns 
on  fire. 

Cleave  to  that  which  is  ffond.]  This  ex- 
presses a  vehement  and  inseparalde  affection  ; 
loving  and  rejoicing  in  all  the  good  thou  seest 
in  others;  desiring  and  seeking  after  all  the 
good  thou  canst  ali-ain  unto  thyself;  and  be- 
ing more  pleased  with  the  society  of  godly 
persons  than  any  other,  such  as  will  ])ul  thea, 
and  keep  thee,  most  in  mind  of  thy  home 
and  the  way  thither,  and  admonish  and  re- 
duce thee  from  anv  declfning  steps.  Their 
reproofs  are  more  sweet  to  thee  than  the 
laughter  and  flattery  of  profane  men  :  as  one 
said  to  his  master,  "  Thou  shalt  find  no  stalT 


40S 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURE 


[Ver.  .1 


hard  enoU£rIi  to  beat  me  from  thee."'*  Though 
tlu'V  seem  liiirsh  to  ihee,  yet  wilt  thou  say. 
Let  ihc  ri^/tteoiis  smile  ine,  it  shall  he  a  kind- 
ness. Psaim.  cxli.  5.  And  no  opposition  will 
drive  ihee  from  the  truth  of  God  and  his 
ways,  which  are  only  good,  if  thy  heart  be 
once  glued  by  love  and  fastened  to  them. 
Yea,  thou  will  cleave  the  closer  to  it,  the 
more  thou  art  persecuted  for  the  truth  :  and 
the  more  thou  sulferest  lor  it,  wilt  love  it  the 
better.  The  word  that  is  used  in  marriage, 
of  the  husband  cleaving  to  the  wife,  holds 
true  in  the  soul  once  married  to  that  which 
is  good  :  all  violence  will  be  too  weak  to  sev- 
er thee.  Learn  to  know  what  this  is  that  is 
truly  good,  to  know  the  excellency  and  sweet- 
ness of  holiness,  and  it  will  be  impossible  to 
part  thy  affection  from  it.  But  this  is  the 
reason  w'hy  men  are  so  soon  shaken,  and  the 
s)-?nder  hold  they  have  removed  ;  the  super- 
iie.ies  of  the  soul,  only,  is  tied  to  the  outside 
V  religion,  by  some  external  relations  and 
figagements,  and  these  arc  a  running  knot 
that  easily  slips.  Few  receive  the  truth  in 
t.ie  love  of  It.  and  have  their  hearts  united 
to  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  indeed  all  that  good 
we  have  to  seek  after,  and  to  cleave  to. 

Ver.  10.  Be  kindly  affectioned  one  to  another  with 
brotherly  love  ;  in  honor  preferring  one  another. 

Now,  in  this  way  of  holy,  spiritual  affec- 
tion, seeking  the  true  good  of  one  another, 
De  kind  in  brotherly  lore  ;  not  upon  design 
of  particular  interest,  but  by  a  natural  pro- 
pension,  such  as  is  in  creatures  toward  their 
yoimg ;  such  a  tenderness  as  is  among  men 
of  nearest  relations,  parents  and  children, 
and  brethren  ;  and  know  that  you  are  indeed 
brethren  of  the  highest  birth  and  parentage, 
and  so  beyond  all  brethren,  Christians  are 
obliged  to  love  one  another.  Alas!  iliat  in 
them,  likewise,  it  sliould  prove  so  unhappily 
true,  Fralrum  (juot^iie  gratia  rara  est,  that 
the  love  of  brethren  is  rare  ;  that  they  should 
be  so  hardly  drawn  to  acts  of  love,  and  so 
easily  stirred  to  fits  of  anger  and  bitterness, 
one  toward  another  !  My  beloved,  are  we 
Christians  ?  Oh,  where  is  the  spirit  of  Christ  ? 
Where  that  great  law  of  his,  that  badge  of 
his  followers,  love  one  another, that  by  which 
the  Christians  of  the  tirst  times,  astonished 
the  pagans  about  them  ?  Yea,  their  very 
enemies  and  persecutors  were  amazed  at  it. 
It  were  well,  and  would  be  one  considerable 
gain  by  our  enemies,  if  their  combinations 
and  malice  against  the  godly  might  drive 
them  close  together,  and  unite  them  more  to 
one  another  in  love. 

In  honor  pre/erring  one  another.]  Putting 
all  possible  respect  on  one  another:  this  is 
not  in  ceremony  or  compliment,  though  these 
civilities  that  are  due,  and  done  without 
feignedness  or  affectation,  are  not  disallowed, 
yea,  are,  I  conceive,  included  ;  but  in  matter 
of  real  esteem,  eacli  preferring  one  another. 
For,  though  a  man  may  see  the  weakness  of 

*  'OvK  TO  (vXoti  hpiacis,  &C. 


I  those  he  converses  with,  yet  passmg,  and,  as 
far  as  he  can,  covering  these,  he  ought  to 
take  notice  of  what  is  good.  All  have  some- 
thing commendable,  and  no  one  hath  all  ;  so 
the  meanest  may  in  something  be  preferable 
to  the  high  est.  And  Christian  humiliiv  and 
charity  will  seek  out  for  and  espy  that,  and 
for  it  put  all  resjiect  U])on  them,  that  their 
quality  and  station  are  able  to  bear  :  and  in 
this,  one  should  jirevent  another,  and  strive 
who  should  do  most  in  this  kind,  as  a  good 

I  and  happy  contention. 

And  the  source  of  this  is,  love  to  God,  wliich 
so  mortifies  the  heart  to  all  outward  advan- 
tages, that,  further  than  a  man  is  tied  by  place 
and  calling,  he  wciuld  not  receive,  much  less 
desire,  any  kind  of  respect  i'rom  any,  but  had 
rather  be  slighted  and  disregarded.  What 
cares  a  soul  enamoured  with  the  glory  to 
come,  for  the  vain  passing  air  of  preference 
and  honor  here  ?  That  it  can  easily  bate  to 
any,  and,  so  far  as  a  man  has  any  power  of  it, 

j  would  put  it  upon  others,  far  rather  than  own 
it  himself.  S'uch  a  one  can  sweetly  please 
himself  in  being  the  meanest  in  all  com]>anies 
where  he  comes,  and  passing  for  such,  and 
he  is  glad  of  respect  done  to  others  ;  still  look- 
ing homeward,  where  there  is  no  prejudging 
one  another  at  all,  but  perfect  unenvying  and 

1  unenvied  glory.  Glory  here  is  to  be  shunned 
rather  than  pursued,  and  if  it  will  follow,  yet 
is  less  to  be  regarded  than  thy  shadow.  Oh, 
how  light  and  vanishing  is  it,  and  even  things 
more  solid  than  it  !  The  fashion  of  this  world 
passeth  aivay. 

Vek.  11.  Not  slothful  in  business,  fervent  in  spirit, 
j  serving  the  Lord. 

'  Not  slothful  in  business.]  These  condensed 
rules  have  much  in  them  ;  and  this  one  is  very 
needful,  for  often  a  listless,  indisposed  weari- 
ness overtakes  even  good  men  :  seeing  so  little 

I  to  be  done  to  any  purpose,  they  are  almost 
ready  to  give  over  all  ;  yet,  ihey  ought  to 
bestir  themselves,  and  apply  to  diligence  in 
their  place.  Be  not  unduly  stickling  and  busy 
in  things  improper,  but  enclosing  thy  diligence 
within  thy  sphere.  Suffer  it  not  to  stand,  but 
keep  it  there  in  motion.  As  to  thy  worldly 
affairs,  be  so  diligent  as  to  give  them  good 
despatch,  when  thou  art  about  them,  but  have 
thy  heart  as  little  in  them,  as  much  dis- 
engaged as  may  be  ;  yet  so  acquitting  them 
wisely,  they  shall  trouble  thee  the  less,  when 
thou  art  in  hisher  and  better  employments. 
As  to  thyself,  be  often  examining  thy  heart 
and  ways,  striving  constantly  against  sin  ; 

I  though  little  sensible  advantage  be  gamed, 

I  yet,  if  thou  yield,  it  will  be  worse  ;  if  it  pre- 
vail so  much  amidst  all  thy  opposition,  what 
would  it  do  if  thou  shouldst  sit  still  !  Use  all 
holy  means,  how  fruitless  soever  they  seem 
for  the  present,  and  ivait  on  God.  We  have 
toiled  all  night,  said  Simon,  and  taken  noth- 
ing,  Luke  v.  5:  and  yei,  at  his  command, 
essaying  again,  they  took  more  at  once,  thai 
if,  after  their  ordinary  way,  they  had  been 


Vek.  12.] 


ON  ROMANS  XII. 


40S 


taking  all  night.  So  as  to  others,  give  not  up 
because  thou  seest  no  present  success,  but,  in 
thy  place,  admonish,  exhort,  and  rebuke,  with 
all  meekness  and  patience.  Doth  God  wait 
on  sinners,  and  wilt  not  thou  wait  a  little  for 
others  ? 

Fervent  in  spiril.]  Beware  of  a  fretful  im- 
patience ;  that  is  a  sickly  distempered  heat, 
as  that  of  a  fever,  which  makes  a  man  unfit 
for  work,  and  men  commonly  in  this  break 
away  from  their  business;  but  much  healthful, 
natural  heat  makes  a  man  strong  and  able  to 
endure  labor  and  continue  in  it.  Tliis  is  the 
thing  here  recommended.  To  be  so  hot  and 
fervent  in  spirit,  is  a  great  advantage  ;  it  is 
the  very  strength  of  the  soul  in  all  employ- 
ments. Much  love  to  God,  and  desire  of  his 
glory,  this  is  the  heat  that  will  not  weary, 
will  cheerfully  go  through  all  discourage- 
ments :  many  waters  will  not  quench  it.  This 
fervor  of  spirit,  wrought  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  doth  clearly  distinguish  itself  from  that 
inordinate  heat  of  our  spirits,  which  may  some- 
times either  act  alone,  or  mingle  itself  with 
the  other  in  the  best  causes  and  affairs.  This 
holy  fervor  is  composed  and  regular  in  work- 
ing, runs  not  headily  to  unadvised  or  disorder- 
ly ways;  it  is  a  sweet  delightful  heat,  not 
painful  and  vexing  as  the  other  ;  it  carries  on 
to  duty,  and  is  not  disturbed  about  events. 

Serving  the  Lord.J  Some  copies  have  it, 
serving  the  lime  ;  which  may  bear  a  fair  con- 
struction, of  taking  present  occasions  of  good, 
and  being  useful  in  our  generation,  and  ac- 
commodating ourselves  in  all  lawful  things 
to  times  and  persons,  for  their  good,  as  our 
apostle  became  all  things  to  all,  to  win  some  ; 
yet,  this  kinu  expression  not  being  found 
elsewhere  in  ccri|)ture,  and  the  most  copies 
rjaving  it  as  we  read  it,  and  some  mistake  of 
letters  in  transcribers  seeming  to  have  occa- 
sioned it,  it  is  much  rather  to  be  taken  as  in 
our  version. 

But,  out  of  all  question,  some  do  follow  that 
mistaken  reading  in  its  worst  sense :  instead 
oi  serving  the  Lord,  serving  the  times.  And 
tnis  some  do  even  in  evil  ways  ;  others,  in 
ways  that  are  good,  yet,  following  upon  trust, 
and  complying,  though  unwillingly,  because 
the  times  carry  things  so  :  but  when  times 
change  to  the  worse,  these  men  are  discover- 
ed.for  still  they  serve  their  master,  the  times, 
and  their  own  advantage  in  them :  which 
way  soever  that  goes,  they  follow;  so  that 
their  following  the  better  side  in  better  times, 
*  but  accidental. 

But  this  serving  the  Lord,  is  more  even 
and  lasting  ;  servmg  him  still  in  all  times, 
doing  all  for  him,  having  no  aim  but  his  glory. 
Such  a  heart  can  not  be  diverted  from  its 
course  by  any  counter-blast  of  times. 

Would  you  be  steadfast  in  times  of  ap- 
proaching trial,  seek  to  have  your  hearts 
acquainted  with  God,  and  fixed  on  him.  For 
others  will  be  shaken  :  but  such  will  follow 
him  through  all  hazards,  and  fear  no  ill  while 
ne  is  with  them.  I 
52 


'  Veh.  12.  Rejoicing  in  hope  ;  patient  in  tribuluion 
I  continuing  instant  in  prayer. 

Rejoicing  in  hope.]  Oh,  this  we  seldom 
do.  When  are  our  hearts  as  if  transported 
with  the  blessed  hope  of  our  inheritance  ? 
This  would  make  us  what  follows. 

Patient  in  tribulation.']  People  would  hear 
much  of  this,  of  preparing  for  suffering.  There 
may  be  a  distemper  in  desiring  to  hear  and 
speak  so  much  of  that.  What  though  trials 
be  coming,  as  it  is  likely  they  are,  we  should 
account  too  much  of  ourselves,  and  this  pres- 
ent world,  to  dwell  expressly  on  that  subject. 
We  see  the  apostles  do  not  so,  though  they 
lived  and  wrore  in  the  times  of  another  sort 
of  persecution  than  we  have  yet  seen  ;  and 
they  to  whom  the  apostle  here  writes  lived 
where  it  was  most  violent  and  potent,  and 
yet  they  spend  not  all  on  this:  some  brief 
words  of  it  are  interspersed  with  the  discourse 
thrown  as  it  were  into  a  parenthesis:  but 
still,  the  main  is,  the  doctrine  of  faiih  and 
rules  of  holiness.  And  these  are  indeed  the 
great  furniture  for  all  sufferings :  I  know  no 
other.  To  see  much  of  the  excellency  and 
worth  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  riches  of  our 
hope  in  him  ;  to  have  these  in  our  view,  much 
in  our  hearts  and  in  our  mouths  ;  these  drown 
all  the  little  fears  of  present  things.  See  how, 
in  passing,  our  apostle  speaks,  as  it  were  in 
a  slighting  way,  of  all  sufferings  for  him:  I 
have  cast  it  up.  says  he,  and  I  reckon  that  the 
sufferings  of  this  present  time  (of  this  now) 
are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  to  the  glory 
which  shall  he  revealed  in  us. 

Again,  the  other  thing  is,  the  rules  of  holi- 
ness :  these  powerfully  enable  for  suffering 
anything  rather  than  unholiness.  That  sick- 
ness of  the  soul,  those  corrupt  humors  of  sin, 
make  it  crazy,  so  that  it  can  endure  no  blasts 
of  air  ;  but  when  it  is  purged  and  free  from 
these,  and  in  communion  with  God  in  his 
ways,  then  it  is  healthful  and  strong,  and  so, 
is  able  to  endure  anything.  The  mortifying 
of  our  affections  to  the  world,  that  is  what 
enables  for  suffering.  Whither  reaches  the 
cruelty  of  man,  but  to  thy  goods  or  thy  body  ? 
And  what  makes  any  faint,  but  an  over  esteem 
of  these,  by  which  they  are  filled  with  desires 
to  preserve,  and  fears  to  lose  them  ?  Now, 
when  the  heart  is  disengaged  from  these,  and 
hath  taken  up  in  God,  is  rich  and  content  in 
him,  it  stands  not  much  to  the  courtosy  of 
any  :  let  them  take  the  rest,  it  suffers  with 
joy,  the  spoiling  of  goods,  having  in  heaven 
a  more  enduring  substance.  Heb.  x.  34.  And 
for  the  utmost  killing  them,  they  look  on  it 
as  the  hiirhest  favor  :  it  is  to  them  but  the 
making  a  hole  for  them  in  their  ])rison-wall 
to  get  out  at.  Therefore,  I  say,  there  is  noth- 
ing doth  so  fit  for  all  encounters,  as  to  be 
much  instructed  in  that  which  is  the  substance 
of  Christianity,  iicarts  purified,  and  lives  holily 
and  spiritually  regulated.  In  a  word  much 
study  of  Christ,  and  much  study  of  thyself  for 
aught  I  know,  are  the  wisest  and  strongest 
preparatives  for  all  possible  sufferings. 


410 


EXPOSITORY  LECTURE  ON  ROMANS  XII. 


[Ver.  12. 


How  sweetly  can  the  soul  retire  into  him.  and  Thy  access  to  him,  all  the  enemies  in  the 
repose  in  him,  in  the  greatest  storms  !  I  know  world  can  not  hinder.  The  closest  prison 
nothing  that  can  much  dismay  him  who  can  \  shuts  not  out  thy  God  ;  yea,  rather  it  shuts 
believe  and  pray.*    That,  you  see,  is  added,  out  other  things  and  companies,  that  thou 

Continuing  instant  in  prayrr.]  If  afraid  mayest  have  the  more  leisure  lor  him,  and  the 
of  fainting,  yea,  it' at  the  point  of  fainting,  this  sweeter  converse  v/ilh  him.  Oh!  acquaint 
revives  the  soul,  draws  in  no  less  than  the  '  yourselves  with  this  exercise  of  prayer,  and 
strength  of  God  to  support  it :  and  what  then  j  by  it  with  God,  that  if  days  of  trouble  come 
can  surcharge  it  ?  you  may  know  whither  to  go,  and  what  way 

•  Nempe  tencu-  quod  amc,  niliU,  ilium  amplexus^  and  if  you  know  this  way,  whatever  befallj 
timeho.  i  vou,  you  are  not  much  to  be  l>emoaned. 


/kr.  1.1 


411 


LECTURES 

ON  THE 

FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS  OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Ver.  1.  The  book  of  the  generation  of  Jesus  Christ, 
the  son  of  David,  the  son  of  Abraliam. 

As  the  bounty  of  God  appears  in  the  furni- 
ture and  comforts  of  our  natural  life,  in  that 
he  hatli  not  only  provided  fur  simple  necessi- 
ty, but  enriched  it  with  plentiful  variety  ;  thus 
he  hath  done  likewise  toward  the  spiritual 
life  in  the  provision  of  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
having  in  them  so  rich  diversity  of  the  kind 
of  writings,  prophecies  and  histories,  poesies 
and  epistles,  and  of  the  kind,  and  expressly 
OQ  the  same  subject,  four  books  written  by 
the  hands  of  four  several  men,  but  all  led  by 
the  hand  of  the  same  Spirit,  and  all  of  them 
so  harmoniously  according  together,  as  makes 
up  one  song  ;  the  four  with  a  delightful  va- 
riety of  notes,  but  no  mistuning,  or  jarring 
difference:  those  that  seem  to  be  so,  being 
duly  considered,  do  not  only  well  agree,  but 
there  is  still  some  instructive  advantage  in 
the  diversity ;  each  recording  something,  some 
of  them  divers  things  that  are  not  in  the  other  ; 
and  what  one  hath  more  briefly,  is  more  en- 
larged in  some  other:  they  are  not  so  differ- 
ent as  to  he  discordant,  nor  so  the  same  as  to 
be  superfluous.  Their  order  in  the  time  of 
their  writing  is,  with  good  reason,  conceived 
to  be  the  same  with  that  of  their  placing  as 
we  have  them.  This  of  St.  Matthew  was 
written  first,  and  very  likely  in  Hebrew,  as 
more  particularly  for  the  use  of  his  own  na- 
tion, thougli  in  His  purpose  who  set  him  on 
to  work  (as  all  the  other  scriptures)  intended 
for  the  good  of  the  church  in  all  succeeding 
age.s.  And  he  begins  with  the  great  myste- 
rious point  on  which  hangs  our  happiness, 
that  which  is  our  grand  comfort,  as  St.  Austin 
speaks,  the  inanliood  of  God.  The  chapter 
hath  these  two,  his  g^cnKolngy,  and  his  na- 
tivity, each  particularly  intituled  ;  for  the  first 
words  are  the  inscription,  not  (jf  the  whole 
book,  nor  of  the  whole  chapter,  but  only  of 
the  first  part  of  it.  The  honk,  that  is  (as  the 
the  Hebrew  word  signifies),  the  roll,  or  list 
of  the  generation,  that  is,  the  descent  Jesus 
Christ. 

T'lie  a  xount  by  ascending,  as  St.  Luke  does, 
or  by  descending,  as  this  evangelist,  is  alto- 
gether indifferent  ;  neither  need  we,  with  the 
ancients,  seek  subtle  and  mysterious  reasons 
of  it,  whic.i  are;  too  airy  to  have  either  cer- 
iain  truth,  or  profitable  use  in  ihera.  The 


reckoning  of  the  one  only  down  from  Abra- 
ham, and  the  other  up  to  Adam,  may  have 
some  more  solid  reason  ;  the  one  having  re- 
gard to  the  particular  promise  made  to  Abra- 
ham, and  the  other  to  the  general  interest  of 
mankind,  and  that  according  to  the  promise 
made  to  our  first  parents  in  the  garden.  And 
this  beginning  in  Abraham  here,  relishes 
somewhat  of  that  we  spake,  of  penning  this 
gospel  in  Hebrew,  with  particular  respect  to 
the  Jews  for  informing  them  first :  as,  indeed, 
the  gospel  was  first  to  be  preached  to  them, 
so  might  they  have  somewhat  of  the  same 
privilege  in  the  writing  of  it — he  of  whom  it 
treats  being  born  among  them,  and  of  them. 
And  before  entering  lo  branch  the  lineage,  the 
evangelist  particularly  meiuions  David  and 
Abraham,  because  of  the  particular  promises 
made  to  them  of  the  Messiah  to  come  of  their 
seed. 

The  great  diversity  of  the  names  from  Da- 
vid to  Joseph  (of  them  all,  indeed,  save  two) 
has  drawn  several  persons  to  take  the  one  for 
the  line  of  Joseph,  the  other  for  the  line  of 
Mary.  But  the  diversity  of  names  ariseth 
not  so  much  from  the  custom  of  that  nation, 
of  one  person  having  divers  names  (which 
commonly  is  answered  in  this),  though  some- 
what of  that  may  be  in  it  ;  but  it  is  much  ra- 
ther i'rcjia  that,  it  seems,  St.  Matthew  does 
deduce  the  legal  succession  in  government 
(by  Solomon),  St.  Luke  the  natural  in  birth 
(by  Nathan).  St.  Matthew,  to  make  up  the 
number  of  his  three  fourteens,  even  omits 
some  immediate  parents,  which  alters  noth- 
ing at  all  of  the  true  deduction,  and  nephews 
are  frequently  called,  and  truly  are,  the  sons 
of  their  grandfathers,  though  not  immediate. 
Now,  thougli  it  is  possible  that  it  might 'be 
otherwise,  yet  the  evangelists  take  it  as  a 
thing  then  manifest  and  known  when  they 
wrote,  that  Joseph,  according  to  the  aj)[)oint- 
ment  and  ordinary  practice  of'  his  nation,  did 
marry  within  his  tribe  and  family.  So  that 
his  extraction,  who  was  but  the  supposed  and 
nominal  father,  doth  give  account  of  Mary, 
the  real  mother  of  Jesus  Christ.  Other  scru- 
ples, though  it  may  be  to  some  needful  to 
clear  them,  yet  I  name  not,  as  being  useless 
to  acquaint  those  wiih  who  find  ihem  not. 
And  some  there  be  altogether  needless  and 
curious,  which  may  pass  among  the  vain,  un- 
profitable questions  of  genealogists  that  th« 
apostle  advises  to  avoid. 


412 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[Chap.  1 


Ver.  is.  No\>.  tlie  1'irth  of  Jesus  Christ  was  on  this 
wise:  when  as  his  iiiotlier  Mary  was  esi)cnised  to 
Josepli,  belbre  tliey  cume  together,  she  was  found 
■with  child  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 

St.  Lukp,  is  more  large  in  the  history  of  the 
conception,  huL  (wliich  the  rest  have  not)  this 
evangelist  ai-ijuaints  us  with  Josepii's  behavior 
in  the  business.  We  have,  1st.  His  first 
doubtful  tliuuglits  within  himself:  2d.  His 
right  information,  and  directions  from  God  ; 
3d.  His  answerable  acquiescence  and  obedi- 
ence. 

Perceiving  Mary,  who  was  espoused  to  him, 
to  be  with  child  before  they  came  together, 
and  not  knowing  how  this  came  to  pass,  it 
would  certainly  perplex  him  much  ;  yet  goes 
he  not  in  a  sudden  passion,  or  rage  of  jeal- 
ousy, to  take  the  extremes!  course,  but  being 
a  just  man,  that  is,  not  strict  and  severe,  as 
taking  justice  in  a  strict  sense,  for  so  ii  would 
seem  contrary  to  the  present  intendment; — 
yet,  some  have  taken  it  so,  thoiii^h  hu  was  a 
just  man  ; — but  it  is  indeed  rendered  as  the 
cause  of  his  purpose  of  mitigating  the  law's 
rigor,  and  »o,just  is  here  a  good  7nan,  a  man 
of  a  moderate,  mild  spirit,  averse  from  rigors, 
as  good  men  usually  are.  And  as  his  own 
temper,  so,  no  doubt,  Mary's  carriage,  did  in- 
cline him  to  this  way  ;  observing  her  modesty 
and  piety,  which  undoubtedly  was  singular, 
and  would  appear  in  her  whole  deportment ; 
bat  further  than  that  spake  lor  her,  it  doth 
not  appear  that  she  spake  all  this  while  any- 
thing for  herself :  she  offered  not  to  declare 
the  admirable  way  of  her  conception,  which 
would  have  seemed  feigned  and  incredible 
from  her  mouth,  but  quietly  refers  the  matter 
to  Him  who  had  done  it.  Thus  silent  inno- 
cency  rests  satisfied  in  itself,  where  it  may 
be  inconvenient  or  fruitless  to  plead  for  itself, 
and  loses  nothing  by  doing  so,  for  it  is  al- 
ways in  due  season  vindicated  and  cleared  by 
a  better  hand.  And  thus  it  was  here :  she  is 
silent,  and  God  speaks  for  her. 

Ver.  20.  While  he  thought  on  these  things, 
&c.]  The  whole  matter  is  opened  to  him  by 
the  angel  of  God  in  a  dream.  This  blessed 
child  is  owned  by  his  glorious  Father  ;  the 
conception  declared  to  he  pure  and  supernat- 
ural by  the  Holy  (ihost;  his  birth  and  name, 
and  the  reasons  of  it,  are  foretold  ;  and  upon 
these,  Joseph  is  ascertained,  not  only  of  the 
spotless  innocency,  but  of  the  matchless  dig- 
nity, of  his  espoused  Mary  in  this  conception, 
and  the  true  quality  of  her  Divine  Son,  and 
so  is  furnished  with  sufficient  ground  of  re- 
ceiving her  as  his  wife,  which  accordingly  he 
forthwith  did. 

The  last  words  of  the  chapter  are  added 
for  the  future  clearness  concerning  the  purity 
of  his  birth.  But  denying  for  the  time  before, 
which  was  tu  the  present  purpose,  affirms 
nothing  at  all  for  the  time  after,  as  is  evident 
by  abundant  instances  of  this  manner  of 
speech,  where  until  goes  no  further  than  the 
named  term  any  way,  yea,  does  rather  im- 
port the  perpetuity  of  what  it  speaks  ;  as  Gen. 


xxviii.  15,  Until  J  have  done  that,  &c.,and  Isa 
xxii.  14,  Till  ye  die — which  yet  hath  not  beei' 
alleged,  for  anything  I  know,  for  a  purgatory 
after  death. 

Ver.  22.  In  the  narration,  the  apostle  in 
serts  (as  is  his  custom)  the  parallel  of  ih 
.liing  with  a  prophecy  foretelling  all  this,  of 
the  accommodating  of  wliich  I  will  not  now 
insist.    It  is  evident  that  it  looks  beyond  any 
thing  that  those  times,  or  that  any  time,  je- 
fore  this  fulness  of  time,  did  afford.   And  this 
singular  Virgin's  conccjuion  was  altogether 
agreeable  to  the  singular  person  so  conceived 
and  born,  both  as  to  the  purity  of  his  human, 
and  the  dignity  of  his  Divine,  nature  ;  that  he 
might  be  known  to  be  not  only  a  holy,  sinles? 
man,  but  more  than  a  simple  man,  God-man, 
God  with  us,  as  his  name  is. 

Observation.  The  hook  of  the  generaliov 
of  Jesus  Christ.]  Many  great  volumes  of 
history  have  been  written  of  states  and  king- 
doms of  the  earth,  and  lives  of  particular  fa- 
mous  men,  and  the  reading  of  tliem  may  de- 
light and  inform  the  mind  ;  but  what  are  they 
all,  how  empty  and  comfortless  stuff  in  re- 
j  spect  of  this  history  !  The  book  of  the  gener- 
ation of  Jesus  Christ.  This  is  the  gospel,  the 
alone  good  tidings  to  all  nations  and  all  ages  ; 
still  fresh,  and  equally  good  news  from  one 
;  generation  to  another.  Had  not  the  Virgin 
borne  this  Son,  we  must  say,  all  of  us,  "  Good 
for  us  we  had  not  been  born." 

Now,  that  so  many  ages  were  run  by,  be- 
fore his  coming,  his  will,  who  chose  that 
point  of  time,  is  sufficient  reason.  But,  1st. 
We  may  perceive  by  this,  that  the  faith  of 
the  church  and  people  of  God  was  exercised 
in  the  expectance  of  this  promised  seed,  in 
whom  all  the  nations  should  be  blessed. 

2dly.  And  the  esteem  of  this  rich  gift  raised 
!  (and  well  did  he  deserve  to  be)  the  desire  and 
hope  of  the  nations.  Thus  the  Lord  hath 
been  pleased,  in  other  great  favors,  to  use 
this  way  to  reveal  them  in  the  promise  long 
time  before  the  performance  ;  so,  a  son  to 
Abraham,  and  the  deliverance  from  Egypt, 
and  that  other  from  Babylon  long  before  the 
captivity. 

3dly.  He  was  equally  from  the  beginnmg, 
in  his  Father's  view,  for  the  interest  of  be- 
lievers, in  all  those  preeedmg  ages,  as  if  he 
had  already  lived  and  died  and  rose  again, 
A  Lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the 
world ;  for  he  sees  through  all  generations 
and  successions  of  times,  and  all  things  in 
them  are  always  alike  present  to  his  eye. 
But  in  the  meantime,  while  the  church  was 
held  in  prefiguring  shadows,  this  was  then 
grand  desire,  that  he  might  appear  in  the 
flesh  :  still  looking  and  waiting  when  the  day 
should  break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away 
And  thus  in  the  Song  of  Solomon  may  we  takt 
that  wish  (ch.  viii.  1),  Oh  !  that  thou  wast  as 
my  brother  .'  And  though  the  time  seemed 
long,  yet  the  vision  was  for  the  set  time,  and 
then  it  spake,  and  lied  not ;  and  he  was  com- 
in^j  forward  in  the  succession  of  time,  hasf-i- 


Ver.  1,  2.] 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GO&PEL. 


413 


tng  as  a  roe  on  ih^  mountains,  skipping  from 
one  a^e,  from  one  hill  to  another  :  as  here  we 
have  it,  Abraham  bea:at  Isaac,  Isaac  begat  Ja- 
cob, fee.  And  this  is  now  the  great  wish  of 
his  spouse,  the  clmrch,  and  of  each  particular 
soul  espoused  to  him,  that  he  would  come 
again  as  he  hatli  promised  ;  and  he  will  do 
so.  What  a  sweet  echo  there  (Rev.  xxii.  17) 
of  Come  .'  The  Spirit  says  Come,  and  the 
Bride  says  Come  ;  and  he  says  (ver.  20),  Be- 
hold I  come  quickly  ;  and  they  resound  again, 
Amen,  even  so,  come,  Lord  Jesus  .' 

Ver.  21.  But  thou  shall  call  his  name  Jesus.] 
That  is  the  name  that  refreshes  the  fainting 
spirits  of  humbled  sinners,  that  the  sweet- 
smelling  balm,  that  the  ointment  poured  out, 
that  draws  the  virgins  to  love  him  ;  sweet  in 
the  mouth  and  in  the  ear,  and  life  in  the 
heart.  A  Savior,  for  he  shall  save  his  people 
from  their  sins.  The  Jews  were  his  people 
once  in  a  particular  way  ;  but  all  Jews  and 
Gentiles  that  run  unto  his  name  as  their  ref- 
uge, are  his  people,  and  he  hath  engaged  him- 
self to  be  their  Savior,  whatsoever  kind  of 
people  they  be,  and  whatsoever  kind  of  guilti- 
ness of  sins  they  bring  with  them.  And  for 
that  reason,  as  is  observed,  are  named  in  this 
his  genealogy,  persons  grossly  stained,  and 
the  woman  too  (ver.  3)  is  specified,  all  under 
the  same  blot ;  and  one  a  stranger,  not  of  the 
seed  of  the  Jews  ;  signifying  him  lo  be  a  Sa- 
vior of  all  nations,  and  even  of  the  vilest  sin- 
ners. But  we  know  not  his  riches  and  our 
own  poverty  ;  therefore  we  run  not  to  hirii. 
We  perceive  not  that  we  are  lost  and  perish- 
ing  ;  therefore  a  Savior  is  a  word  of  little  rel-  i 
ish.  Oh  ,  were  we  convinced  of  the  huge  mass 
of  guilt  that  lies  upon  us,  and  the  wrath  that 
for  it  hangs  over  us,  ready  to  fall  on  us  and 
sink  us,  this  would  be  our  continual  thought, 
till  we  were  resolved  in  it,  "Is  this  Savior 
mine?"  And  to  the  end  we  might  find  him 
so,  we  should  tread  upon  all  that  lies  in  our 
way  to  run  to  him. 


CHAPTER  n. 

Ver.  1.  Now  when  Jesus  was  bom  in  BcfWeheni  of 
Judea,  in  tlie  days  oC  Herod  the  king,  behold  there 
came  wise  men  fromtl  e  eas>t  to  Jerusalem, 

Ver.  2.  Saying.  Where  is  he  that  is  born  king  of  the 
Jews  ?  for  we  have  seen  his  star  in  the  east,  and 
are  come  to  worship  him. 

The  blessed  Son  now  born  hath  for  part  of 
nisname,  in  the  prophet  foretellinff,  or  rather 
telling  his  birth  (Isa.  ix.  6)  Wonderful.  He 
is  so  in  his  birth  ;  that  we  have  seen  in  the 
former  chapter.  He  is  so  in  his  life  and  death, 
particularly  in  that  part  of  his  life  which  is 
ordinarily  scarce  at  all  remarkable,  his  in- 
fancy. The  history  of  that  we  have  in  this 
chapter.  So,  as  in  that  place  of  ihe  prophet, 
wonderful  is  the  beginning  of  his  name,  he 
is  wonderful  in  the  beginning  of  his  life. 

That  wonder  tha  goes  along  throughout 
all  his  life  and  death,  is,  in  the  passages  here 


i  recorded,  very  legible,  d  strong  conterapcra- 
ture  of  majesty  and  ineanness  ;  yea,  these 
[  two,  so  far  distant  in  notion,  yet  meet  in  him, 
the  meanness  cif  man  and  the  majesty  of 
I  God.  So  obscurely  born  and  so  poorly  lodg- 
ed, yet,  that  birth  marked,  and  that  lodging 
pointed  out,  by  a  star  that  seems  to  have  nu 
other  work  nor  motion,  but  to  tell  of  him  and 
lead  to  him ;  and  by  it  wise  men  are  led 
from  afar,  to  ofler  rich  presents  to  a  poo; 
babe,  and  to  do  homage  to  him  as  a  king 
and  to  worship  him  ! 

Then,  afterward  he  is  put  to  flee  for  hi' 
life  in  his  swaddling  clothes.  He  who  cami 
to  give  life  to  dead  man,  is  in  hazard  of  » 
cruel  death  at  the  entry  of  his  life,  and  es 
capes  it  by  the  obscure  and  hasty  flight  o( 
his  parents  with  him  ;  yet,  even  in  that  flight 
there  is  a  track  of  majesty,  that  they  flee, 
stay,  and  return  with  him,  all  upon  Divine 
warnings.  Thus  was  this  Son  of  K/i>hteous- 
ness  veiled  and  clouded  in  human  flesh,  and 
a  low  kind  of  human  life,  and  yet  some  rays 
of  Deity  are  still  breaking  through  and  tel- 
ling, here  divclls  the  Godhead  bodily. 

In  this  chapter,  these  two  things  of  him 
are  remarkable.  First,  He  is  marvellously 
witnessed  and  worshipped.  Secondly,  perse- 
cuted and  preserved. 

He  is  witnessed,  1st,  By  a  star  stirring  up 
strangers  from  far,  to  seek  him,  and  leading 
them  to  find  him. 

2dly,  By  those  strangers  coming  and  de- 
claring this  lo  be  their  errand,  and  inquiring 
after  the  place  of  his  birih. 

3dly,  By  the  chief  priests  and  scribes, 
from  a  clear  pro[)hecy,  resolving  them. 

Of  these,  and  other  like  points  in  the  fol- 
lowing history,  what  questions  are  moved 
more  curious  than  useful,  I  shall  eiiher  pass 
wholly  in  silence,  or  only  name  them  to  pass 
them,  to  put  them  out  of  our  way,  that  they 
may  not  stop  us  in  what  may  be  useful.  And 
textual  difiiculties  that  call  for  clearing,  I 
shall  endeavor  to  open  with  as  much  brief- 
ness as  may  well  consist  with  clearness,  and 
to  serve  for  that  end  of  clearing  them.  For 
this  star,  what  shall  we  see  the  better  into 
the  end  and  person  whom  it  served,  by  de- 
ciding, if  we  could,  much  less  by  debating 
what  we  can  not  decide,  whether  it  was  a 
star  or  a  comet  ?  Called  a  star  lor  its  resem- 
blance, as  the  Scripture  often  gives  things 
the  vulgar  names,  it  seems  to  have  been  tem- 
porary, and  made  for  this  singular  service 
only.  However,  it  was  a  star  that  led  to  the 
sun. 

^  After  men  have  pleased  themselves  in  the 
employ  of  all  their  reading  and  wit,  to  find 
what  the  Magi  were,  further  than  the  text 
comes,  they  can  assuredly  inform  us  nothing. 
They  were  Magi  (wise  men),  and  of  the 
east ;  but  whether  from  Chaldca,  or  Pc-sia, 
or  Arabia,  neither  that  name  they  bear,  nor 
the  presents  they  bring,  can  certainly  con- 
clude. It  can  not  be  denied,  that  all  these 
nations  called  their  astrologers,  and  general- 


414 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[ClIAP.  II. 


ly  their  pliilo«ophors,  by  that  name :  and 
they  nii£;hi  hriiicr  the  same  presents  from  any 
of  those,  and  from  divers  other  eastern  coun- 
tries:  nor  is  there  any  more  evidence  that 
they  were  Balaam's  posterity,  or  of  his 
school,  though  the  prophecy  of  a  star  arising 
in  Jacob  seems  to  suit  somewhat  well  witli 
this  kind  of  notice  sfiven  them  bv  a  star,  and 
I  with  their  observing  it,  and  followinir  it. 
And  truly,  besides  the  uncertainly,  the  inu- 
tility of  this  may  save  us  a  labor ;  for  what 
shall  we  be  really  the  wiser,  to  know  partic- 
ularly what  these  wise  men  were,  or  whence 
they  were  ?  Sure  I  am,  to  make  them  three 
to  fit  their  number  to  their  presents,  and  to 
make  kings  of  them,  and  give  them  names, 
and  then  to  wrangle  about  their  buri;il-place, 
is  to  play  the  fool  about  the  wise  men. 

If  you  ask,  how  the  star  could  speak  this, 
that  there  was  a  great  king  born,  and  born  in 
Judea,  and  speak  it  so  as  to  persuade  them  to 
come  and  see?  I  conceive,  all  their  skill  in 
astronomy,  and  Balaam's  prophecy  of  the  star 
in  Jacob,  and  the  tradition  of  the  Messiah, 
and  his  star,  and  sybils  prophesying  of  them, 
could  not  make  the  language  of  this  star 
thus  clear  and  intelligible  to  them.  There 
Was,  no  doubt,  an  extraordinary  darting  in  of 
a  higher  light  into  their  minds,  clearer  than 
that  of  the  star,  to  make  its  meaning  clear 
to  them,  and  to  draw  them  forth  to  this 
journey.  The  star  appeared  to  them  in  the 
east,  but  it  does  not  appear  that  it  led  them 
all  the  way,  though  commonly  it  be  so  con- 
ceived:  on  the  contrary,  after  their  setting 
forihrit  seems  not  to  have  appeared  to  them 
till  they  carne  t^om  Jerusalem,  whither  they 
went  as  likeliest  either  to  find  him  they 
sought,  or  notice  of  him  at  least.  And  this 
likewise  was  by  a  Divine  hand  ordered,  that 
both  there  they  might  give  testimony  of 
Christ,  and  likewise  receive  their  further  tes- 
timony of  him  and  address  to  him,  and  be 
confirmed  in  their  persuasions  concerning 
him,  and  then  seasonably  the  star  appears 
to  establish  and  lead  them. 

Ver.  3.  W/ien  Herod  the  king;  hnd  heard 
these  thim^Xjhe  was  trouhIpd.\  The  wise 
men's  question  occasions  Herod's  fear,  and 
that,  the  meeting  of  the  priests  and  scribes 
to  resolve  it.  They  do  it  from  the  prophet 
Micah,  ch.  v.  2.  The  difference  in  the  cited 
words  is  really  none,  Bethlehem  Ephrata,  and 
Bethlehem  Judnh,  being  all  one.  And  the 
prophet's  words,  read  interrogatively  (as  well 
they  may),  are  clearly  the  same  thing  with 
the  evangelist's  narrative.  However  the 
least  of  all  in  itself,  yet,  it  was  not  the  least, 
but  the  greatest,  by  this  great  King's  being 
born  in  it.  And  so,  David  bears  the  type  of 
his  Son  and  I^ord,  for  he  was  of  obscure  birth 
jn  this  same  city. 

Ver.  7-12.  Then  Hernd,  lohenhe  had  priv- 
ily called  the  wise  men  sent  them  to  Beth- 

lehem.]  The  wise  men,  thus  answered  and 
led,  came  to  Bethlehem,  and  are  now  ao  con- 
firmed of  the  royalty  of  this  child,  that  they 


'  are  not  removed  from  that  persuasion,  nor  at 
all  staggered  in  it,  by  the  .sight  of  so  Tiucn 
outward  meanness  as  they  found  :  a  poor 
babe  in  a  common  inn  ;  whether  still  in  the 
manger  or  no,  is  not  certain,  soil  may  be; 
however,  doubtless,  in  a  very  Unv  condition, 
far  from  royal  grandeur,  but  yet  so  high  in  his 
own  dignity  and  in  their  thoughts,  that  they 
fell  down  and  worshipped,  and  offered  their 
present,  which  they  did  not  to  Herod  in  all 
his  pomp.  This  many  ancient  and  modern 
are  pleased  to  subtilize  into  Jnysteries,  which, 
though  I  dare  not  con.'.Jcnily  deny  all,  yet 
dare  I  aver  nothing.  He  that  brought  them 
forth,  directed  them  directly  home,  having  no 
more  business  at  Jerusalem.  When  they  had 
found  the  king  they  came  to  seek,  they  left 
king  Herod  to  seek  his  intelligence  from  oth- 
ers. 

Ver.  13-23.    But  these  were  strange  news 
to  Herod  —  o  horn  king  of  the  Jexrs.    The  com- 
mon fears  that  are  of  the  ill  genius  of  tj  ranis, 
and  that  are  the  fell  revenge  of  the  many 
fears  they  cause  to  so  many  others,  aic  now 
raised,  and  rasre  within  him  upon  this  report. 
And  for  all  his  craft,  and  the  growth  of  it  for 
cruelties  upon  long  practice,  yet  is  he,  as  it 
were,  so  thunderstruck  with  this  fear,  tha'  he 
'  can  not  resolve  on  any  sure  way  for  this  end, 
but  inquires  the  age  of  the  child,  and  it  »eeins, 
defers  a  good  lime,  and  smothers  tlie  intend- 
ed  massacre   (for   that  answers  best  the 
\  doubt  about  the  age  of  two  years),  and  then 
I  sends  and  kills  all  the  children  of  or  under  that 
I  age:  that  was  the  sacrifice  which  in  his  in- 
I  quir\'  be  meant  to  offer,  instead  of  worship- 
I  ping  the  child  born.    His  royal  Father  could 
i  have  preserved  him  otherwise  than  by  the 
'  care  and  flight  of  his  sup))osed  father  with 
him  ;  but  thus  he  pleased,  even  in  this,  to 
carry  on  his  divine  Son  under  the  covert  of 
such  human  and  humble  ways  of  preservation, 
!  to  make  him  in  all  things  like  us  (sin  ex- 
jcepted),  and  to  sweeten  those  things  to  us, 
when  we  are  called  to  be  like  him  in  them, 
in  being  persecuted,  and  by  persecution  for- 
ced to  flee. 

That  text,  ver.  15,  Out  of  Egypt  have  1 
called  my  Son,  suits  most  fitly,  the  words 
having  (as  other  such  adapted  places)  their 
prophetical  aspect  to  Jesus  Christ,  with 
out  any  prejudice  of  their  first  proper  sense, 
in  persons  or  things  typifying  him.  Israel  is 
called  the  Lord's  son,  and  his  first  born,  Ex. 
iv.  22  ;  Jer.  xxxi.  9. 

The  other  text.  He  shall  be  called  a  Naza- 
rite,  I  rather  think,  signifies  his  singular  ho- 
liness, which  the  name  imports,  and  all  the 
prophets  foretold  of  him,  and  the  legal  Naza- 
rites  prefigured,  than  that  it  relates  to  any 
particular  prophecy.  Besides,  it  is  in  the  text 
the  prophets,  in  general :  Which  was  spoken 
by  the  prophets.  Ver.  23. 

Observe  1.   The  freedom  of  God's  calling 
and  drawing  men  unto  his  Son  ;  that  it  fol- 
lows not  the  track  of  human  appearances  and 
I  external  engagements.  Strangers  ire  brought 


Ver.  13—23. 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


415 


from  far  to  worship  Christ,  and  are  glad  at 
his  birth.  His  own,  among  whom,  and 
those  particularly  for  whom,  he  was  born, 
were  not  rejoiced,  yea,  were  troubled  at  it ; 
80  far  were  they  from  receiving  him  as  their 
king,  and  worshipping  him.  And  strange, 
that  having  resolved  the  Magi's  question, 
they  all  sit  slill,  for  anything  we  find,  and  not 
one  is  so  taken  with  it,  as  to  take  share  of 
the  small  latter  end  of  their  long  journey,  and 
to  go  some  miles  off,  to  see  so  great  and 
matchless  a  wonder!  Thus,  many  who  are 
far  off  in  their  ways,  are  humbled  and  brought 
to  Christ,  and  those  who  in  external  profes- 
sion seemed  always  near  to  him,  are  still  far 
off;  nearest  the  church  (as  ye  say)  farthest 
from  God.  My  brethren,  rest  not  on  your 
outward  relations,  your  interest  in  the  ordi- 
nances and  profession  of  religion,  but  see  how 
your  hearts  stand  affected  toward  Jesus 
Christ.  If  you  receive  him  as  king,  then 
shall  ye  partake  of  the  sweet  fruits  of  his 
kingdom. 

Obs.  2.  There  was  some  appearance  of 
reason  (though,  indeed,  reasonless)  that  Her- 
od should  be  stirred  with  the  news  of  a  new- 
bom  king  ;  for  though  Christ's  office  never 
wrongs  the  just  power  of  kings,  yet,  the  jeal- 
ousy of  it  will  never  be  out  of  their  minds, 
while  they  are  not  acquainted  with  him: 
they  will  still  think  that  his  kingdom  en- 
croaches upon  theirs  ;  and  tiiis  is  the  ground 
of  their  almost  general  enmity  against  him. 
But  why  were  the  Jews  troubled,  who  C(juld 
not  but  apprehend,  according  to  the  very  no- 
tion of  the  Messiah,  that  if  this  was  he,  he 
was  come  for  their  deliverance  and  release 
from  the  tyranny  of  foreign  power  ?  Yet, 
they  with  Herod  are  troubled.  The  reason 
seems  to  be,  they  feared  that  trouble  and  war 
would  arise  by  iliis  appearing,  and  they  might 
possibly  foresee  much  in  the  way  to  the 
change,  and  therefore  would  rather  have 
chosen  to  lie  still  under  the  burden  of  the  Ro- 
man power.  There  is  a  natural  prejudice  in 
all  against  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  that  it 
brings  disturbance  and  disquiet  with  it,  and 
therefore  men  would  rather  sleep  in  their 
chains  than  hear  of  a  deliverance  by  him. 
Thus,  the  Jews  in  Egypt  appear  to  have  been 
prejudiced  against  the  message  of  their  going 
forth,  which  Moses  brought  them.  Thus,  a 
carnal  lir'art  would  comply  with  its  bondage, 
rather  than  be  at  any  pains  in  the  remove 
from  it. 

Obs.  3.  Was  the  birth  of  Christ  subject  to 
accompanying  trouble  ?  Thus  it  is  in  the 
soul,  a  tumult  as  it  were,  of  Herod  and  the 
Jew.s.  They  that  are  without,  viz.,  carnal 
friends,  all  in  a  rage  at  it :  "  What  I  turn  a 
melancholy,  precise  fool,  go  mad,"  &c.  And 
with  n,  like  the  tumultuous  multitude,  all  the 
lusts  oi'  the  heart  are  clamoring  for  their  in- 
terest, noising  to  it,  that  it  will  suffer  much 
in  this  changp,  that  all  wonted  delights  will  be 
cutoff,  that  there  will  arise  much  war  and  trou- 
ble by  this  new  kingdom  ;  besides  many  oth- 


er doubts  and  fears  that  arise  m  this  matter. 
Think  it  not  strange  to  find  it  thus,  that 
the  soul  is  tossed  with  disquiet  at  the  birth  of 
Christ  in  it ;  but  rather  let  it  rejoice  in  this 
trouble,  as  a  sign  of  that  blessed  birth,  and 
that  spiritual  kingdom  of  Christ  within  it, 
which,  however  it  occasion  some  present  stir, 
shall  sweetly  compensate  that,  and  compose 
the  soul,  and  make  it  happy:  for  the  Child 
burn  is  the  Prince  of  Peace  (Isa.  ix.  6),  and 
the  proper  nature  of  his  kingdom,  that 
whereof  it  is  made  up,  is,  ris:hteousness,  ana 
peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  Rom. 
xiv.  17. 

Obs.  4.  Herod's  fear  and  anger  against  this 
news  gathers  the  priests  and  scribes  together, 
to  give  clear  testimony  from  the  Scriptures  of 
that  very  birth  which  was  so  hateful  to  him, 
and  to  verify  it  by  the  true  designment  of  the 
place.  Thus  all  his  enemies'  practices  still 
prove,  in  the  issue,  of  service  to  him  ;  all 
aU  their  stirrings  asrainst  his  kingdom  and 
glory  make  for  it.  When  all  is  reckoned,  it 
is  found  in  effect  that  they  undo  themselves, 
and  advance  his  end  whom  they  oppose. 

Obs.  5.  Brin^  me  luord,  that  I  may  corne 
and  ivorship  him.  Ver.  8.  This  is  an  old 
piece  of  king-craft,  we  see,  older  than  Ma- 
chiavel,  to  serve  themselves  of  the  shadow 
and  mask  of  religion,  in  order  to  walk  unseen 
in  their  atheism.  The  most  of  them  in  their 
wars  and  confederacies  pretending  religion, 
and  intending  the  subversion  of  it,  would 
seem  to  come  to  worship,  and  come  indeed 
to  worrv.  Cultum  pretcndit,  cultrum  xnten- 
dtt. 

Obs.  6.  Though  Herod  and  the  priests  were 
both  enemies,  yet  they  concur  to  this  testi- 
mony, and  furnish  it  to  the  inquiring  stran- 
gers, but  went  not  with  them,  nor  so  much 
as  sent  any.  Thus  many  testify,  yea,  teach 
the  truth  of  Christ  in  the  general,  yet  go  not 
to  him,  as  signs  in  the  way  direct  others,  and 
stir  not  themselves.  But,  my  brethren,  think 
it  not  enough  to  give  a  general  assent  to  di- 
vine truths,  for  unless  the  heart  be  warmed 
with  them,  and  the  soul  stirred  up  to  seek 
an  interest  in  them,  they  save  not,  yea,  they 
more  deeply  condemn. 

Obs.  7.  Divers  readings  of  the  evangelists 
and  [irophets,  agreeing  in  one  sense,  are  very 
useful.  Bethlehem  llir  least,  yet,  7wt  the  least ; 
the  least  of  thyself,  but  the  greatest  by  the 
birth  of  the  great  king  born  in  thee.  Thus 
all  are  raised  and  ennobled  by  Christ.  The 
poorest  persons,  and  things  in  themselves 
most  despicable,  yet,  through  him,  become 
most  excellent.  The  simplicity  of  the  ordi- 
nances, the  word  and  sacraments,  so  far  be- 
low the  pomp  ol'the  world,  and  gaudy,  false 
worship,  in  outward  visage,  yet  are  much  fur- 
ther above  them  in  inward  dignity.  Thus, 
the  soul  of  a  poor,  simple,  unlettered  believer, 
that  is  the  meanest  and  least  in  itself,  fiir  be- 
low the  greatest  personsand  great  wits  of  the 
world  in  naturals,  yet,  Jesus  Christ  being 
born  in  it,  is  not  the  least,  but  in  spiritual  ex- 


416 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[C'tAP.  ri. 


cellency  truly  ijreat,  and  far  beyond  all  oth- 
ers voul  of  Christ. 

Obs.  8.  Christ  newly  born,  is  hotly  perse- 
cuted, put  to  llirjht,  &:e.  Tliis  is  a  presage  of 
his  after  eondiiion  and  entertainment  in  the 
world  in  his  own  person,  and  still  in  his  body, 
his  Chureii,  the  saints.  No  sooner  is  Clirist 
born  in  thee,  than  tiie  wicked  will  be  upon 
thee,  seeking  to  kill  him  with  persecuting 
malice,  with  scoffs  and  taunts  at  the  least. 

Obs.  9.  All  his  notions  are  by  divine  di- 
rection. Thus,  liis  saints  in  all  times,  partic- 
ularly in  times  of  straits  and  troubles,  must 
still  be  depending  on  his  pointing  out  of  ev- 
ery step,  and  are  safe  in  following  that. 

Further,  we  may  observe,  that  they  whom 
the  Father  intends  to  bring  to  the  Son,  shall 
not  want  means  of  their  calling  and  leadinsr 
to  him.  He  will  create  a  light  in  them,  and 
cause  it  to  arise  in  their  hearts  to  stir  them 
up  to  inquire  after  him.  And  when  they 
need  direction,  and  seek  it,  he  will  furnish  it 
even  where  it  would  be  least  expected.  If 
they  be  driven  to  attend  it  at  their  hands  who 
go  not  to  Christ  themselves,  even  under  a 
ministry  that  hath  little  life  in  it, — that  is 
formal  and  spiritless  in  itself,  yet,  if  God  hath 
cast  ihy  lot  there,  even  there,  I  say,  shall  a 
soul  seeking  after  Jesus  Christ  find  direction 
and  confirmation,  and  the  word  shall  be  made 
lively  to  it  by  a  higher  hand  ;  and  though 
they  go  not  to  Christ,  yet  shall  they  give  thee 
his  true  address,  and  direct  thee  rijiht  to  him, 
as  here  the  scribes  and  priests  did  these  in- 
quirers. 

Again,  observe  how  God  takes  hold  of  men 
by  suitable  ways.  His  call  does  not  lie 
wholly  in  the  congruity  of  the  means,  but  he 
makes  it  effectual  ;  yet,  he  carries  that  effica- 
cy so  sweetly,  that  there  is  not  any  violence 
at  all.  Often  in  the  means,  that  sweetness 
consists  in  the  particular  aptness  of  them. 
These  were  star-gazers,  and  he  gives  them 
notice  according  to  their  faculty  by  a  star. 
Thus,  some  are  taken  with  some  accessory 
qualification  of  a  minister,  baited  by  this  to 
give  ear  and  take  liking  to  his  doctrine. 
Thus,  St.  Augustine  confesses  he  was  caught 
in  hearina:  St.  Ambrose,  through  delight  in  his 
eloquence  ;  for  thoua:h  he  looked  no  farther, 
yet,  together  with  the  words  be  loved,  the 
things  that  he  loved  not  did  likewise  slide  in 
and  gain  upon  him.  Again,  t^icy  undertake 
a  lon<j  and  hard  journey,  and  resolve  to  go  on, 
and,  missing  him  at  Jerusalem,  they  inquire 
there  concerning  him, and  will  not  leave  off, 
till  they  find  him.  A  soul  that  hath  once  seen 
a  light  pointing  out  Christ  to  it,  and  stirring  it  [ 
up  to  seek  afier  him,  will  not  be  driven  back,  j 
nor  called  off  from  s^oing  to  him,  by  any  dis- 1 
couragernents  and  difficulties  :  yea,  they 
sharpen  it,  and  set  an  edge  on  it,  and  make  j 
ihcm  so  much  the  more  earnest.  Others  can  i 
speak  of  him,  and  lie  still,  and  not  stir  to  <ro 
to  him,  as  here  the  priests;  but  such  a  soul 
must  have  him,  and  will  not  take  rest  with- 
out him  •  will  still  inquire  where  he  is,  j 


where  and  how  T  may  find  my  Christ.  .\ 
man  may  possibly  meet  with  some  for- 
mal minister,  that  knows  little  of  Christ, 
and  loves  him  less,  who  yet  can  tell  such 
an  inquirer,  that  by  beli'3\'jng  .iie  shall  find 
him,  and  instruct  him  somewtiat  about  the 
notion  of  faith,  and  inseparable  repentance, 
and  leaving  off  sin,  which  things  he  him- 
self, who  directs,  makes  no  use  of,  hath 
no  experience  of  at  all  :  yet  may  his  informa- 
tion be  useful  to  the  soul  seeking  Christ,  and 
in  following  them  it  may  find  him.  And  as 
it  is  in  the  first  inquiry  and  journey  to  Christ, 
so,  in  after  seeking,  ujion  his  witluira  wments  : 
as  Cant.  iii.  and  v.  Though  the  watchman 
that  should  direct  thee  deride  and  mock  thee, 
yea,  though  they  smite  and  wound  thee,  yet, 
if  once  thou  hast  found  the  sweetness  of  his 
love,  or  but  heard  his  voice  speaking  to  thy 
heart,  and  desiring  it  to  open  to  him,  thou 
wilt  not  leave  off  thy  search  day  or  night, 
till  thou  hast  found  him,  in  how  mean  a  con- 
dition and  outward  appearance  soever:  thou 
wilt  see  through  that,  and  behold  him  thy 
king,  thy  beloved  Lord,  and  see  him  beauti- 
ful, all  beauty  and  loveliness,  and  wilt  be 
forced  to  declare  him  so,  that  he  outvies  all 
creature  loves,  as  not  wort.iy  to  be  compared  : 
yea,  that  their  enjoyments  have  not  near  so 
much  sweetness  as  the  very  seekings  and 
mournings  after  Jesus  Christ. 

Ver,  11.  Fell  down  and  iror.ihipped  him.'] 
When  a  soul  is  busy  asking  after  Jesus  Christ, 
if  it  be  inquired  what  would  you  do  with  him, 
Why  this  is  my  purpose,  will  it  say,  I  would 
worship  him.  I  would  not  only  be  saved  by 
him,  but  I  would  fall  down  and  adore  him, 
and  acknowledge  him  my  king:  and  if  I  had 
anything  better  than  another,  I  would  offer 
it  him.  But  what  hast  thou  ?  Hast  thou  rich 
presents  for  hiin  ?  Alas !  no.  These  are 
called  wise  men,  and  were,  it  seems,  rich  ; 
had  rich  gifts.  I  am  a  foolish  and  a  poor 
creature,  and  I  have  nothing  to  offer.— Noth- 
ing. Hast  thou  a  heart?  Yes:  a  heart  I 
have  ;  but,  alas  !  there  can  be  nothing  more 
unfit  for  him.  and  unworthy  of  him  :  it  is  dark, 
and  foul,  and  hard,  all  disorder  and  filthiness. 
Yet,  wilt  thou  give  it  him  as  it  i's,  and  be  wil- 
ling that  he  use  and  dispose  of  it  as  it  pleases 
him  ?  Oh,  that  he  would  accept  of  it,  that 
he  would  take  it  upon  any  ternr^s  .  Here  it  is: 
if  it  would  fly  out  from  this  offer,  I  would  he 
would  lay  hoid  of  it. — Oh  !  that  it  were  once 
received  by  hirn,  that  it  were  in  his  hand; 
and  then  let  him  do  with  it  what  seems  him 
good.  Sayest  thou  so?  Then  it  is  done. 
Give  it  really  and  freely,  and  he  will  take, 
and  make  it  better  at  its  worst,  than  all  the 
gold,  and  frankincense,  and  myrrh  of  all  these 
rich  countries  where  they  abound,  and  will 
purify,  rectify,  and  make  it  quite  another 
thing  than  it  is.  And  it  shall  never  repent 
thee  to  have  made  a  gift  of  it  to  him.  He 
shall  frame  it  to  his  own  '.ikeness,  and  in  re 
turn  will  give  thee  himself,  and  he  thine  for 
ever. 


Ver.  1.] 


OF  ST.  xMATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


417 


CHAPTER  III. 

Although  the  enemies  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and,  for  a  time,  even  his  friends  and  follow- 
ers, mistook  the  nature  of  his  kingdom,  yet 
he  is  a  king.  This  being  questioned,  he  him- 
self avowed  it  before  the  Roman  judge  ;  and 
even  in  his  low  estate  on  earth,  yet  were 
there  intermixed  signs  and  characters  of  roy- 
alty. To  instance  here  no  more,  the  for- 
mer chapter  hath  the  history  of  oae  of  them, 
and  this  of  another.  In  that  was  the  hom- 
age done  to  him  a  little  after  his  entering 
into  the  world  by  birth.  In  this,  we  have 
his  harbinger  preparing  his  way  a  little  be- 
fore his  coining  forth  inio  the  world,  to  man- 
ifest himself  in  his  words  and  works. 

This  chapter,  you  see,  contains  the  history 
of  John  Baptist — 1st.  The  nature  of  his  office  ; 
2dly.  The  exercise  of  his  office  ;  and  that 
both  generally  to  the  multitude  of  the  Jews 
thai  resorted  to  his  baptism,  and  pariicularly 
to  some  of  more  eminent  note  among  them, 
the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees,  and  singularly 
on  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Ver.  1.  In  those  day  a  came  JohA  the  Bap- 
tist, preaching  in  the  iviMerm^ss  of  Judea.] 
This  relates  not  to  the  history  that  goes  be- 
fore, but  to  that  which  follows  to  be  recorded, 
as  the  usual  style  of  the  Hebrew  bears.  It  is 
clear  that  many  years  fell  between  even  the 
greatest  part  both  of  Christ's  life,  and  of  John 
Baptist's;  in  both  which,  from  the  birth  to 
the  coming  forth  to  preach,  all  tjie  interve- 
nmg  tiine  is  past  over  in  silence,  not  only 
here,  but  in  all  the  other  evangelists,  saving 
one  act  of  Christ's  appearing  in  pufdic  about 
the  age  of  twelve  years,  recorded  bv  St.  Luke, 
which  was  hut  a  glance  of  this  jewel,  that 
lay  locked  up  a  long  time  af'er. 

John  the  Baptist,  an  extraordinary  person 
in  his  hirth  and  calling,  holy  from  the  womb, 
a  prophet,  and  more  than  a  prophet  ;  and  Je- 
sus Christ  himself  far  more  than  he,  his  Lord 
and  Master,  the  Prince  of  prophets  ;  and  yet, 
neither  of  them  came  abroad  in  his  ministry 
till  about  the  age  of  thirty  years,  the  time 
specified  in  the  law  for  the  service  of  the 
house  of  God.  But  our  ignorance  makes  us 
bold  and  foolhardy  ;  we  rush  forward  not 
knowinff  ourselves  nor  this  calling,  its  excel- 
lency and  holiness,  and  our  meanness  and  un- 
holiness.  This  I  say,  not  that  I  think  meas- 
ure doth  punctually  and  literally  tie  us,  espe- 
cially the  necessity  of  some  times  and  the 
scarcity  of  faithful  laborers  being  considered, 
upon  which  some  may  lawfully,  yea,  ought 
to  be  (ii.twn  forth,  if  unwilling  and  yet  able. 

But  surely,  the  consideration  of  these  ex- 
amples should  give  a  due  check  and  curb  to 
our  usual  precii)iiate  hearts,  which  in  these 
times  haveneedofsorne restraint, even  insome 
who  possibly  have  some  competency  both  of 
abilities  and  true  piety.  Good  fruit  may  be 
plucked  too  green,  which,  let  alone  awhile  to 
ripen,  would  prove  much  more  pleasant  and 
profitable 

53 


In  these  two,  their  long  lying  hid  is  so 
much  the  more  remarkable,  inasmuch  as  be- 
sides their  singular  fitness  for  appearing  much 
sooner,  they  had  so  short  a  time  allotted  foi 
their  course  ;  the  forerunner  but  about  one 
year,  and  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  himself  but 
about  three  years  and  a  half.  But  this  was 
the  assigned  time  in  the  Divine  wisdom, 
which  was  found  sufficient  for  the  work  com- 
mitted to  them  ;  and  what  needs  more  ?  Let 
not  any  grudge  for  themselves,  or  lor  any 
other,  their  speedy  removal,  upon  this  coa- 
ceit,  that  they  might,  in  nature's  course,  con- 
tinue much  longer,  and  in  appearance,  through 
their  labor  be  still  more  serviceable.  Let  all 
rather  study  for  themselves,  and  wish  unto 
others,  that  they  my  be  diligent  in  their  work 
while  their  day  lasts,  be  it  short  or  long, 
faithful  and  fruitful  in  their  generation,  and 
the  shorter  their  day  is  like  to  be,  work  the 
faster  ;  for  certainly  the  good  of  life  is  not  in 
the  length  of  it,  but  in  the  use  of  it. 

There  are  between  our  Savior  and  this  his 
messenger  or  i'oreruimer,  divers  notable  agree- 
ments :  their  being  near  of  kindred;  their 
births  taking  place  in  one  year,  and  both  fore- 
tolu  by  an  angel ;  and  as  Christ  was  the  son 
of  a  virgin,  John  the  son  of  aged  parents,  and 
a  mother  so  long  barren:  little  odds  in  the 
time  of  both  their  appearing  to  the  world, 
and  abiding  in  it ;  both  sealing  their  doctrine 
with  their  blood.  But  as  in  these,  in  all,  the 
Lord  hath  the  pre-eminence  beyond  his  ser- 
vant, so  this  faithful  servant  did  always  most 
willingly  acknowledge  it,  yea,  his  very  busi- 
ness was  to  abase  himself  and  exalt  his  mas- 
ter ;  and  this  he  did,  as  we  find  throughout 
his  history.  And  those  of  the  servants  of 
Christ  that  are  most  honored  to  be  nearest 
him,  are  always  the  greatest  abasers  of  them- 
selves, the  most  desirous  to  have  him  hon- 
ored. 

John's  office,  we  have  briefly  expressed  in 
the  first  verse,  partly  in  his  name  John  Bap- 
tist, a  minister  of  baptism,  and  partly  in  the 
word  joined  with  it,  preaching.  Preaching 
of  the  word  was  joined  with  baptism:  John 
the  Baptist  preaching  in  the  wilderness. 

I  will  not  here  speak  of  the  nature  of  bap- 
tism, the  combinement  of  preaching  with  it; 
their  aspect  each  to  the  other,  and  concur- 
rence to  one  excellent  end  ;  the  word  unfold- 
ing the  sacrament,  and  the  sacrament  sealing 
the  word  ;  the  word,  as  a  light,  informing 
and  clearing  the  sense  of  the  seal,  and  it 
again,  as  a  seal,  confirming  and  ratifying  the 
truth  of  the  word:  as  you  see  some  signifi- 
cant seals  or  signets  engraven,  have  a  word 
about  them  expressing  ilieir  sense. 

But  truly,  the  word  is  a  light,  and  the  sac- 
raments have  in  them  of  the  same  light  illu- 
minating them;  and  this  of  baptism,  the  an- 
cients do  particularly  express  by  light.  Vet 
are  they  both  nothing  but  darkness  to  us,  till 
the  same  light  shine  in  our  hearts:  for  till 
then,  we  are  nothing  but  darkness  ourselves, 
and  therefore  the  most  luminous  things  are 


418  LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS  [Chap.  Ill 


so  to  us:  noonday  is  as  niidnij^ht  to  a  blind 
man.  And  we  use  these  ordinances,  the 
word  and  the  sacrament,  without  proht  and 
comfort  for  the  most  part,  because  we  have 
not  of  that  Divine  liijht  within  us:  and  we 
liave  it  not,  because  we  ask  it  not,  are  not 
often  there  where  it  is  to  be  iiad,  nor  earnest 
suiters  for  it :  for  we  have  his  word  that  can 
not  fail,  tliat  our  Heavenly  Father  will  tr'we 
even  this  choice  gift,  this  light  (for  that  is  it), 
his  Holy  S/in-it  to  them  that  ask  it.  Then 
would  word  and  sacrament  be  sweet  to  us, 
which  now  are  so  lifeless  and  unsavory. 

Ver.  2.  We  have  in  the  following  words 
the  sum  of  his  doctrine:  Repent  ye,  for  the 
kia^iiom  of  heaven  is  nt  hand.  In  tlie  point 
of  tmie  and  the  way  of  his  ministry,  he  was 
indeed  singular  ;  yet,  the  substance  of  his 
dtctrine  is  the  same  with  those  that  went  be- 
fore, and  those  that  came  after  him.  All  the 
prophets  preached  repentance,  and  joined  in 
the  prediction  of  this  kingdom  of  God  ;  aild 
our  tSavior  himself,  and  his  disciples,  as  you 
will  after  find,  preached  not  only  this  same 
doctrine,  but  even  in  the  same  words :  only 
this  he  had  particular,  that  he  stood  between 
the  two,  as  it  were,  the  link  of  law  and  gos- 
pel, as  one  calls  him,  and  was  the  first  that 
said,  The  kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand,  and 
pointed  it  out  as  come  while  he  was  speak- 
ing. 

Repent.]  This  is  the  main  purport  and  end 
of  God's  messages  to  man  in  all  times,  by  all 
whiim  he  hath  sent  (as  has  been  already 
said),  prcjphets,  apostles,  Jesus  Christ  and  his 
forerunner  :  and  still,  all  his  ministers  under 
the  gospel,  have  no  other  in  effect  to  say, 
than  to  call  men  to  repentance,  to  bring  them 
home  to  God.  Man  is  naturally  turned  away 
from  God,  and  is  still  further  running  away 
and  hastening  to  the  pit ;  and  God  is  calling 
after  him.  Do  not  destroy  yourselves,  I  will 
receive  and  pardon  you;  Oh!  return;  why 
w'll  ye  die  ?  And  yet,  men  will  not  hearken, 
but  run  to  their  ruin.  This  word  is  daily 
preached;  and  yei  who  almost  is  persuaded 
so  much  as  to  stop  his  course  a  little  and  con- 
sider what  is  propounded  to  him,  much  less 
to  break  off  his  course  and  return  ?  Oh,  the 
bountifulness  and  graciousness  of  God,  who 
thus  entreats,  and  still  entreats  base  worms, 
whom  he  might  tread  on  and  crush  in  a  mo- 
ment!  Oh,  the  wretchedness  and  madness 
of  man  who  refuses,  and  still  refuses  those 
gracious  entreaties  !  You  have  been  called  to 
in  these  terms,  and  where  are  they  that  re- 
turn ?  Where  are  hearts  breaking  for  their 
iniquities  ;  and  breaking  away  from  the  .i, 
mourning  after  the  Lord,  and  longing  for  a  look 
of  his  countenance,  and  desiring  nothing  else  ? 
Oh  !  that  some  soul  might  now  be  stirred  up, 
and  set  but  upon  thoughts  of  repenting,  seri- 
ous, real  thoughts  that  would  not  die  I  The 
Lord  will  reach  forth  his  hand  and  draw  it  lo 
himself,  though  it  find  it  can  not  stir  :  yea,  in 
that  very  desire  of  returning  to  him,  he  hath 
prevented  it  and  touched  it,  and  will  not  lose 


it,  will  not  suffer  it,  and  his  hegun  work  in  it, 
to  perish. 

For  the  kingdom  of  heaVefi.]  Ay,  this  is 
the  attractive,  that  w'  vch  puts  life  and  hope 
into  the  soul.  Jesus  Christ,  ])cace  and  recon- 
cilement in  him  to  God — this  is  the  kinndom 
of  heaven.  And  here  it  was  at  hand,  and  it 
came,  and  was  published  through  the  world. 
And  throughout  all  ages  of  it,  the  gospel  is  at 
hand,  in  the  gracious  offers  of  it  to  all  that 
hear  the  word  ;  and  it  is  brought  into  the 
souls  that  believingly  receive  the  Avord,  and 
J'esus  Christ  revealed  in  it.  This  gives  both 
hope  to  the  sinner,  and  stirs  up  desires. 
Were  then,  not  a  way  of  receiving  him,  ii 
were  in  vain  ;o  call  men  to  return  ;  but  see- 
ing there  is  a  ransom  found — seeing  the  way 
j  is  opened  up — who-  is  there  that  have  eyes 
opened  to  behold  that  mercy,  that  will  delay 
[  any  longer  ?  that  will  not  hasten  into  it,  and 
lay  hold  upon  it  ? 

The  gospel  is  not  a  doctrine  of  licentious- 
ness, but  the  pure  and  sweet  word  of  that 
new  life  which  is  in  Christ.  And  though  in 
I  the  notion  of  repentance,  there  is  an  aspect 
I  to,  and  use  of  the  law,  convincing  of  sin 
and  death,  and  working  a  sense  of  misery  and 
j  sorrow  from  that  sense,  yet  all  this  it  works 
most  sweetly  and  kindly,  contcmpered  with 
and  adapted  by,  the  doctrine  of  the  gospel ;  for 
in  this  they  mix  and  agree,  and  throughout  all 
the  Scriptures  of  both  Testaments,  run  com- 
bined, as  they  do  in  the  words  of  the  sermon 
here.  For  this  is  the  sum  of  the  law  and  the 
gospel  as  they  now  stand  to  us-ward  ;  Re- 
pent ye.  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand.  Nothing  is  so  powerful  as  the  doctrine 
of  free  grace  to  convert  a  soul,  not  excluding 
convincements  of  sin  by  the  law,  but  so  in 
eluding  them  that  that  deadly,  killing  sen- 
tence, thus  prepared,  becomes  excellently 
medicinal  (as  the  treats  that  are  made  of  vi- 
per's flesh  ;  the  law,  in  regard  of  condemning 
power,  being  now  dead,  and  not  only  dead, 
but  so  qualified  by  the  cordial  promises  of  the 
gospel,  that  it  does  not  really  condemn,  but 
only  shows  condemnation  out  of  Christ,  and 
so  causes  the  soul  to  close  with  Christ,  and 
find  salvation  and  life  with  him:  as  the  dead 
viper's  flesh,  so  compounded,  hath  a  secret 
virtue  to  advance  the  working  of  those  ingre- 
dients that  are  in  the  composition  against 
poison. 

For  the  kingdom,  fee]  This  is  the  logic 
and  rhetoric  of  the  Scripture,  to  persuade  ho- 
liness and  repentance  by  the  grace  and  par- 
don revealed  in  the  gospel.  Those  beams  ol 
love  and  free  mercy  are  most  powerlul  to 
melt  the  heart.  Now,  says  he,  the  great 
Messias  is  at  hand.  He  is  come:  whatso- 
ever have  been  men's  ways  before,  now  they 
may  come  home  unto  God  in  him.  And  will 
not  they,  seeing  he  is  come  from  heaven  to 
save  ?  Will  they  not  come  from  the  way  of 
hell,  from  sin,  to  be  saved  by  him  ?  And 
thus  the  Lord  Jesus  is  daily  set  before  us, 
and,  in  him,  free  forgiveness  of  all  that  is 


Ver.  3—8.] 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


419 


past ;  and  if  men  will  perish  in  multitudes, 
ihey  must  perish  ;  but  you  that  have  a  mind 
to  li^e,  come  to  him. 

Ver.  3.  For  this  is  he  that  was  spoken  of  by 
the  prophet  Esaias.]  His  calling  is  further 
expressed  and  confirmed  by  a  prophecy  of 
*iim,  designating  him  by  the  nature  of  a 
voice,  The  voice  of  one  cryin<T  in  the  wilder- 
ness ;  and  his  cry  is,  Prepare  the  ye  way  of  the 
Lord,  &c.,  which  suits  well  with  the  forego- 
ing sum  of  his  preaching,  is  in  effect  the 
same  with  it.  Repent  is,  prepare  the  way  of 
the  Lord,  and  make  his  -paths  straight.  Re- 
pentance levels  the  heart  to  God,  makes  it  a 
plain  for  Christ  to  walk  in,  casts  down  the 
mountains  of  pride,  and  raises  the  soul  from 
base,  low,  earthly  ways  and  affections, 
smooths  the  rugged  passions,  and  straightens 
the  crooked  deceit  of  the  heart,  makes  it 
sincere  and  straight  both  toward  God  and 
man.  And  then  the  reason.  The  kingdom  of 
God  ts  at  hand,  is  implied  in  that,  Prepare 
his  way  ;  that  says.  He  is  comins',  is  upon  his 
way,  and  therefore  sends  his  harbinger  to 
niaJce  it  fit  for  him.  And  this  is  our  business, 
to  be  dealing  with  our  hearts,  levelling, 
smoothing,  and  straightening  them  for  our 
Lord,  that  he  may  take  delight  to  dwell  and 
walk  in  ihem,  and  refresh  them  with  his  pres- 
ence ;  and,  certainly,  the  more*  holy  diligence 
is  used  in  suiting  the  heart  to  his  holy  will, 
the  more  of  his  sweet  presence  shall  we  enjo^,'. 

Ver.  4.  And  the  same  John  had  his  raiment 
■  ^  '•amel's  hair.]  He  is  further  described  from 
l  i  iribitand  course  of  life,  suiting  the  nature 
ol  ii.-  i-.i'ling,  and  the  strain  of  his  preaching. 
A  preiirtu  r  of  repentance,  not  willingly  re- 
sorting to  courts  and  cities,  but  keeping  in  the 
wilderness  ;  niat  was,  not  a  place  altogether 
uninhabited,  bin,  a  less  peopled,  mountainous 
soil,  the  very  [,l;ice  of  his  birth  ;  who  had  his 
habit  and  diet  like  the  place,  and  like  the 
employment.  Though  his  solitude  and  rough 
garments  are  a  slender  hold  for  the  hermeti- 
cal  way  magnified  in  the  Rom  ish  riiurch,  when 
that  of  Zechariah  fits  better,  and  their  clothes 
are  sooner  shaped  to  that  pattern,  where  he 
speaksof  those  false  tongues  that  wear  a  rough 
garment  to  deceive,  Zech.  xiii.  4 — yet  certain- 
ly,besides  somewhat  extraordinary  and  singu- 
lar in  him  and  his  calling,  to  which  this  was 
consonant,  there  is  this  for  the  example  of 
all  the  messengers  of  God,  to  live  as  much  as 
may  be  in  their  condition  and  station,  dis- 
engaged from  the  world,  not  following  the 
train  delights  and  ways  of  it  ;  not  bathing  in 
the  solaces  and  pleasures  of  earth,  and  entang- 
ling  themselves  in  the  cares  of  it,  but,  sober, 
and  modest,  and  mortified  in  their  way  of 
living  ;  making  it  their  main  business  not  to 
please  the  flesh,  but  to  do  service  to  their 
Lord,  10  walk  in  his  ways,  and  prepare  his 
way  for  him  in  the  hearts  of  his  people.  Fur- 
ther,  this  was  inplied  in  this  mean  way  of 
life,  that  the  less  of  human  grandeur,  the 
more  of' D.  vine  power,  and  of  the  majesty  of 
jod,  might  appear  in  his  ministry. 


Ver.  5.  Then  went  out  to  him  Jerusalem, 
and  all  Judea,  and  all  the  region  round  about 
Jordan.]  That  is,  great  multitudes  flocked 
to  him,  to  hear  him,  and  be  baptized.  For 
though  baptism,  in  the  way  he  used  it,  was 
not  usual,  yet  their  accustomed  use  of  legal 
worship  made  it  the  less  strange,  and  the 
more  acceptable  to  them.  And  being  accom- 
panied with  the  doctrine  of  repentance,  re- 
mission of  sins,  and  the  news  of  ihe  kingdom 
of  heaven  approaching,  it  could  not  choose 
but  find  some  reverence  and  attention.  But 
certainly,  of  multitudes  that  will  run  to  the 
word,  and,  possibly,  particularly  flock  after 
the  ministry  of  some  for  a  time,  there  may  be 
many,  as  doubtless  were  there,  that  are  but 
light  stuff,  carried  with  the  stream  as  corks 
and  straws  are.  Men  should  examine  well 
even  such  things  as  seem  to  speak  some  love 
to  religion  in  them,  'vhether  they  be  real  or 
not.  This,  John  does  not  spare  to  tell  home 
to  the  seemingly  best  of  those  that  came  to 
him,  that  esteemed  themselves,  and  were 
esteemed  by  others,  more  religious  than  the 
multitude.  Yea,  the  Spirit  of  God  directed 
him  to  deal  more  sharply  with  them  than  with 
others  that  came  to  him  ;  they  being  of  all 
others  commonly  most  confident  of  self-righ- 
teousness, and  therefore  farthest  from  the 
true  work  of  repentance,  which  humbles  the 
soul  to  the  dust,  and  lays  it  low  in  its  own 
eyes  :  these  sects  being,  beyond  the  multitud  e, 
swelled  with  conceit  of  their  own  estate,  he 
spares  the  rest,  and  pricks  them  sharjjfy,  that 
the  tumor  may  fall.  It  may  seen  somewhat 
strange  that  he  entertains  so  roughly  those 
that  came  respectfully  to  him,  and  with  others 
were  willing  and  desirous  to  hear  his  doctrine, 
and  partake  of  his  baptism.  Was  not  this 
the  way  to  beat  them  back,  and  make  them 
distaste  both  ? 

There  is,  indeed,  much  prudence  required 
in  the  ministers  of  the  word,  to  know  to  at- 
temper their  admonitions  and  reproofs,  that 
by  too  much  rigor  they  discourage  not  weak 
beginners  who  are  iiujuiring  after  the  ways 
of  God  ;  but  withal  they  should  be  no  less 
wary  that  by  too  much  credulity  and  lenity 
they  sooth  not  any  in  their  formality  and  car- 
nal confidence.  And  the  most  we  have  to 
deal  withal,  commonly  are  in  most  hazard 
upon  this  hand  ;  there  is  too  little  heart- 
humbling.  And  many  are  ready  to  take  up 
some  piece  of  reformation  of  their  ways,  and 
the  externals  of  religion,  and  deem  themselves 
presently  good  Christians.  Oh!  the  deceit 
and  slothfulness  of  our  hearts!  How  ready 
are  we  to  lay  hold  U[)on  an  easy  guise  of  our 
own,  and  think  what  some  further  press,  is 
hut  melancholy  and  needless  preciseness  ! 

Ver.  8.  Firing  forth  therefore  fruits  meet 
for  repentance.]  Though  he  wonders  at  their 
coming,  and  fairly  tells  them  so,  yet  he  rejects 
them  not,  despairs  not  of  them  ;  he  gives  them 
sound  advice,  which  implies  always  some 
hopes  of  prevailing.  Give  none  up  for  despe- 
rate ;  catch  hold  of  what  they  do,  to  drive 


420 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS  [Chap.  IV. 


them  to  what  further  they  ought  to  do.  You 
profess  to  flee  from  the  xcruth  to  come  ;  hrin>r 
forth  f  rutts  then.  You  say  you  are  Christians 
ami  believers :  Oh  !  let  your  ways  and  lives 
say  so.  Let  Christ  dwell  in  your  hearts,  and 
be  shown  in  your  lives. 

Ver.  9.  Think  not  to  say,  We  have  Abraham 
to  our  father.]  The  fooli>;h  heart  is  siill  lean- 
ing to  this  fancy  of  external  relations  and  priv- 
ileges. Beware  ;  rest  not  on  these — the  re- 
formed religion,  pure  ordinances,  or  a  place 
of  esteem  possibly  among  the  strictest  sort 
of  rel'ormed  professors.  And  do  not  think  you 
put  an  obligation  on  religion,  and  that  it  is 
indebted  to  you  ;  but  pray  take  heed.  God 
can  leave  you,  and  deliver  you  up  to  these 
vain  thoughts,  and  provide  himself  without 
you.  He  can  draw  the  remotest  and  unlike- 
liest  to  himself,  and  let  you  go. 

Ver.  10.  And  this  is  a  siftins,  trying  time. 
He  comes,  who  will  unmask  your  hvpocrisies, 
and  search  you  to  the  bottom  ;  ivho  will  lay 
his  axe  to  the  root  of  the  trees,  and  cut  up  the 
fruitless.  Where  the  gospel  comes  in  great- 
est power,  there  is  the  ceriainest,  and  saddest 
weight  of  judgment  on  the  unbelieving  and 
impenitent,  the  formal  and  fruitless. 

Ver.  11.  I  indeed  baptize  yon  ivith  water."] 
The  true  badge  of  a  messenger  of  Jesus  Christ 
is,  to  abase  himself  and  to  magnify  his  master. 
Baptism  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  with  fire, 
may,  possibly,  have  some  aspect  to  the  singu- 
lar sending  ol'the  Holy  Ghost  in  fiery  tongues. 
That  purifying  virtue,  that  flame  of  love,  oh, 
that  we  found  it ! 

Ver.  12.  And  only  they,  the  wheat,  are  for 
the  garner,  they  that  are  pure  and  spiritual: 
the  chaff,  light  and  vain  hearts,  are  fuel  for 
the  fire.  No  middle  class  :  we  must  be  either 
baptized  in  that  fire,  or  burnt  in  this. 

Ver.  13-15.  In  (he  baptism  of  Christ,  ob- 
serve the  exemplary  humility  both  of  the 
master  and  of  the  servant :  of  the  master,  in 
subjecting  himself  to  this  ordinance  ;  of  the 
servant  in  administering  it,  first,  in  his  mod- 
est question  and  declining  it,  and  secondly, 
in  his  quiet  yielding  and  obedience.  He  that 
■wa>  so  pure  and  spotless,  had  no  need  ol' 
that,  or  any  other  washing  ;  He,  the  Lamb 
of  God,  that  takes  away  the  sin  of  the  world, 
as  this  John  testified  ;  He,  the  fountain  open- 
ed for  sin  and  iniquity,  and  therefore,  well 
says  he,  /  have  need  of  thy  baptism.  Yet 
here  he  humbles  himself  to  be  bapiized.  Oh  ! 
that  we  who  are  baptized  bad  more  of  his 
likeness  in  this  humble  reverence  for  Divine 
ordinances,  looking  on  them  as  his  in  every 
•warranted  hand.  What  though  he  that 
teaches  be  less  knowing  and  less  spiritual 
than  thcju  that  hearest,  one  that  might  rath- 
er learn  of  thee,  yet  the  appointment  of  God 
obliges  thee  to  attend  as  humbly  and  regard- 
fully  to  his  ministry  as  if  he  were  an  angel. 

John  recoils  a  little.  Thus  truly,  as  he  in 
regard  to  the  person,  so  will  every  humbled, 
self-knowing  minister,  even  in  reference  to 
the  ordinances  themselves,  wonder  often,  and 


be  sometimes  at  the  point  of  forbearing.  Oh  ' 
who  am  I,  to  handle  such  holy  things^  to 
stand  in  so  high  a  service,  to  convey  VAe,  I 
that  am  dead  !  to  administer  so  high,  so  pure 
and  purifying  ordinances,  myself  so  impure  ! 
But  again,  being  conunanded  and  engaged  of 
God's  own  hand,  that  overcomes  and  silen- 
ces ;  and  in  the  continuing  in  the  work  upea 
that  consideration,  there  is  no  less,  yea,  the 
greater  humility,  than  in  the  other  thoughts 
of  unfitness;  a  submissive  resignation  of  a 
man  to  his  Lord.  However  the  matter  seem 
to  me,  and  truly  I  deem  myself  unworthy  of 
the  lowest  employment  without  thee,  yet, 
thou  appointing,  I  have  no  more  to  say :  good 
reason  thy  will  stand,  and  not  mine. 

Ver.  16,  17.  Now,  in  the  baptism,  the  hu- 
mility of  both  is  richly  rewarded  with  so  glo- 
rious a  vision  and  voice.  The  thing  is  mean 
and  low  in  the  common  form  of  it  ;  bapiized 
in  ihe  common  river.  Oh!  hat  transcend- 
ent glory  in  such  a  manifestation  of  that  hies- 
sed  Trinity  on  earth,  that  is  the  perpetual 
wonder  and  happiness  of  heaven.  Oh,  that 
we  had  eyes  to  see  it,  and  that  our  hearts 
were  more  taken  with  this  glance  here  anu 
the  hopes  of  full  vision  ere  long !  Like  u 
dove.  Oh  !  that  that  Spirit  were  more  abun- 
dant in  us,  flowing  from  our  Head,  on  whose 
head  it  here  rested. 

My  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleas- 
ed.] In  this  word  lies  all  the  comfort  of  a 
Christian.  No  pleasingness,  nor  acceptance, 
indeed,  out  of  him  ;  but  in  him,  all  accept- 
ance of  all  who  are  in  him.  Nothing  de- 
lights the  Father  but  in  this  view.  All  the 
world  is  as  nothing  in  his  eye,  and  all  men 
hateful  and  abominable  by  sin.  Thou,  with 
all  thy  good-nature,  and  good-breeding,  and 
good-carriage,  art  vile  and  detestable  out  of 
Christ.  But  if  thou  get  under  the  robe  of 
Jesus,  thou,  and  all  thy  guiltiness  and  vile- 
ness,  then  art  thou  lovely  in  the  Father's 
eye.  Oh  !  that  we  could  absolutely  take  up 
in  him,  whatsoever  we  are,  yet  shrouded  un- 
der him  !  Constant,  fixed  believing  is  all. 
Let  not  the  Father  then  see  us  but  in  the  Son, 
aud  all  is  well. 


CHAPEER  IV. 

Vek.  1.  Then  was  Jesus  led  up  of  the  Spirit  into  the 

wilderness,  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil. 

The  apostle  doth  fitly  style  our  Lord  Jesus 
the  captain,  or  leader,  of  our  salvation.  He 
marches,  leads  all  the  way,  puts  us  on  noth- 
ing that  he  hath  not  first  encountered.  And 
in  his  going  before,  there  is  that  decorum 
there  marked,  Heb.  xii.  10:  It  tvas  meet  he 
should  be  made  perfect  by  sufferings.  So 
particularly  by  this  kind,  that  is  the  sharpest 
sensation,  by  these  he  was  entered  into  his 
calling  ;  initiated  or  consecrated,  as  the  word 
there  is.  Let  none,  therefore,  of  h  .s  follow- 
ers think  to  go  free.    If  you  mean  to  follow 


Ver.  l-3.j 


OF  ST.  MATTHEWS  GOSPEL. 


421 


Christ,  reckon  for  tempiations,  to  meet  them 
even  at  first,  and  so  in  all  the  way.  We  read- 
ily misreckon,  though  warned  ;  we  count  as 
we  would  have  it ;  write  up  such  ease  and 
joys,  &c.,  and  think  not  on  afflictions  with- 
out, and  temptations  within,  which  yet  are 
much  our  portion  here.  Unwise  to  put  to 
sea  and  expect  no  storms,  nothing  but  fair 
weather  !  Let  this  be  our  warning,  that  we 
be  not  secure  ;  we  shall  meet  temptations. 
But  let  this  be  our  comfort,  that  we  be  not 
dismayed,  that  in  this  we  do  follow  him.  He 
went  before  us  in  this  conflict,  and  overcame 
before  us,  and  for  us  ;  and  we  likewise,  in 
his  strength,  shall  overcome. 

Then. — When  ?  Look  backward.  Then 
— presently  after  he  was  baptized,  and  not 
simply  by  the  water  of  Jordan,  but  by  the 
Spirit  from  heaven,  and  was  singularly  re- 
plenished, full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  St. 
Luke  hath  it,  Luke  iv.  \.  Thus  shalt  thou 
be  sure  to  be  assaulted  when  thou  hast  re- 
ceived the  greatest  enlargements  from  heav- 
en, either  at  the  sacrament  or  in  prayer,  or 
in  any  other  way  ;  then  look  for  an  onset. 
This  arch-piraie  lets  the  empty  ships  pass, 
but  lays  wait  for  them  when  they  return 
richest  laden. 

Then.  —  Again,  Look  forward.  Then  — 
when  he  was  to  enter  on  his  work,  his  pub- 
lic ministry.  Thus  look  to  be  assailed,  when 
thou  art  to  engage  in  any  special  service. 
Each  according  to  his  place  will  find  this: 
when  he  is  upon  some  purpose  of  honoring 
God  in  any  particular  undertaking  or  course, 
and  is  nearest  the  performance,  then  shall 
the  strength  of  hell  be  mustered  up  against 
him.  Now,  knowing  it  to  be  thus,  this  ought 
rather  to  embolden  than  discourage  us  in  any 
such  way.  This  expert  enemy  knows  his 
interest  well,  and  does  not  thus  bestir  him- 
self lightly,  but  feels  that  his  kingdom  is  in 
danger,  and  that  he  shall  certainly  be  a  loser. 

Now,  as  this  is  incident  to  every  Christian, 
and  particularly,  according  to  the  emiiiency 
of  their  service,  to  ministers  of  Jesus  Christ, 
as  here  to  him  when  toward  entering  on  his 
own  ministry,  si,  in  this,  they  should  rein- 
force themselves  'n  him  ;  should  follow  him 
on,  and  apply  and  employ  him  for  the  victory. 

This  [temptation]  was  one  of  Luther's 
schoolmasters,  and  so  it  is  to  all  the  servants 
of  Christ  ;  and  so  are  all  the  three,  prayer, 
meditation,  and  temptation.  And  this  is  very 
needful,  that  both  with  the  more  skill,  anil 
with  the  more  com[)assion,  they  may  he  help- 
ful to  them  I  hat  are  templed.  Certainly,  in 
all  things,  experience  gives  the  deepest  sense 
and  the  readiest  faculties.  He  who  was  here 
temi)ted,  could  know  more  by  speculation 
than  ever  any  man  ;  yet  it  was  found  me/-t 
that  even  he  should  be  trained  by  the  expe- 
rience of  these  thinijs,  as  in  that  cited  place, 
Hebrews  ii.  10 — prrfcctfil  as  cajitain,  made  a 
complete  commander  by  hard  services,  suffer- 
ings, and  temptations."  So  Ileb.  iv.  \'\  and 
7.  2-8.    Men  expert  in  war,  laugh  at  the 


I  learnedest  discourse  of  pedants,  as  is  reported 
'  of  Hannibal. 

\  Oh  !  heart-feeling  is  a  main  thing  in  this. 
It  is  going  to  the  wrong  hand,  for  a  troubled 
or  tempted  Christian  to  go  to  an  untroubled, 
untempted  minister,  who  never  knew  what 
that  meant.  Their  errand  takes  not :  they 
find  little  ease  in  complaining  of  their  grief  to 
him  that  never  felt  such  a  thing ;  as  Nazian- 
zen  observes,  that  they  who  are  stung  with  a 
serpent,  can  not  endure  to  bemoan  themselves 
to  any  but  some  that  have  felt  the  pain.  To 
have  found  such  trouble,  and  then  an  issue, 
such  and  such  comfort — oh,  it  enables  much 
in  that  case.    See  2  Cor.  i.  4,  6. 

Led  hy  the  Spirit.'^  That  same  Spirit  thai 
came  down  on  him  in  baptism,  ch.  iii.,  here 
leads  him  forth  to  his  conflict,  not  for  this 
alone,  to  seek  it,  but  leads  for  such  exercise 
there,  wherein  it  was  designed  and  appointed 
to  meet  him.  The  Spirit  in  us  doth  not  carry 
us  wilfully  seeking  of  temptations  ;  yea,  we 
pray  by  his  direction  who  was  thus  led,  that 
we  may  not  be  led  into  temptarions  ;  that  is, 
that  we  may  be  so  led  into  them  as  not  to  be 
left  to  them  and  foiled  in  them  ;  but  he  leads 
us  into  those  places  and  employments,  when 
we  follow  his  leading,  wherein,  by  God's  dis- 
posal, we  do  meet  with  temptation's.  And  lo 
be  thus  led  any  way  w'^wtsoever,  is  safe,  and 
the  issue  liajipy,  as  here  it  was.  That  is 
sweet  in  all  things,  to  be  carried  ;  not  to  go  of 
ourselves  any  way,  but  that  of  each  step  it 
may  be  said.  Led  In/  the  Spirit.  Led  to  be 
tempted,  in  order  that  he  might  return  with 
the  glory  of  the  victory. 

Into  the  vildernc.fs.]  This  is  the  field  cho- 
sen fur  this  duel  between  the  roaring  lion  of 
the  bottomless  pit  and  the  royal  line  of  the 
iribeof  Judah.  This  ser])cnt  tempted  tliefirst 
Adam  in  the  garden,  and  the  second  Adam  in 
the  wilderness,  with  different  success  indeed  ; 
and  ever  since  doth  still  tempt  the  posterity 
of  both,  in  all  variety  of  i)!acesand  conditions, 
in  several  ways  suitable.  Company  and  con- 
versation have  their  temptations;  and  soli- 
tude, even  the  wilderness,  hath  its  own  too. 
No  place  or  estate  on  earth  is  privileged  ;  no 
business,  not  lawful  laborinij,  eating  and 
drinking,  yea,  not  fasting  and  praying;  yea, 
in  these  are  readily  the  most  assaults,  but  in 
them  likewise  the  sweetest  victory  :  as  here. 

Verse  2.  And  when  he  had  fisted  forty 
days.]  Though  this  was  a  miraculous  and 
extraordinary  fast,  as  a  mark  of  his  extraordi- 
nary person  and  calling,  and  of  the  ministry 
tjf  the  gospel's  harmoniously  according  with 
the  law  and  the  projjhets,  Moses  and  Elias, 
yet,  surely  a  holy  fast  it  was,  wherein  our  Sa- 
vior (as  those  his  forerunners,  no  doubt)  fed 
upon  prayer  and  Divine  contemplation. 

lie  hvn<:ired.'^  So  all  along,  as  in  this 
fast,  so,  with  his  following  hunger.  Divine 
power  combined  with  human  weakness,  such 
as  was  sinless. 

Ver.  3.  //■  thou  he  the  Son  of  God.]  Doubt- 
less  the  tempter  was  in  some  doubt  himself 


122 


LECTURES  ON  THE  1 IRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[^HAF.  IV 


ahiiut  this  •  Jiougli  he  saw  many  concurreni 
piciofs  of  it,  ;et  lliuuglu  possibly  it  nii<;ht  bo 
uilicrwist',  aiid  ilu'ri'i'ure  tries.  And  as  he  ex- 
l)iesses  his  own  doubt,  so  lie  siigaests  the 
ituubt  to  our  Savior.  It  is  vain  to  specify 
lliese  three  temptations  by  tiiree  particular 
sins,  for  liieyare  each  comiilicated  and  made 
U|)  of  variety,  as  u>ually  ail  sins  are.  In  tiiis 
1  n-<juld  not  e.xclude  someiliing  of  workins:  on 
appetite,  stirring  to  an  iinpatient,  intemperate 
haste  in  satisfying-  that  :  and  the  exception  is 
wealv,  that  it  is  not  delicacies,  hut  hread  that 
is  i)ropiiun(led,  for  that  is  as  strong  a  tempta- 
tion in  extreme  hummer  as  delicacies  ;  hut  the 
main  is  unbelief,  and  so  making  haste.  So, 
ill  the  first  tem[)tation  of  our  first  parents,  the 
matter  of  i)leasing  appetite  made  some  ingre- 
dient, but  the  chief  thing  was  unbelief:  Yen, 
halh  God  said  ?  Gen.  iii.  6.  And  so  here,  Jf 
iliou  he  the  Son  of  God.  And  as  that  was 
joined  to  pride,  stirring  them  to  a  proud  de- 
sire to  be  gods,  so,  in  this  case,  Satan  aitnsat 
drawing  a  needless  show  of  it,  that  Christ 
was  God.  And  our  Savior's  answer  meets  all 
these  suggestions:  that  of  his  pressing  hun- 
ger, finding  another  answer  for  it  than  hread  ; 
that  is  not  the  only  thing  for  it ;  that  of  douht- 
ing  or  unbelief  (as  it  was  the  main  evil,  so 
the  main  of  the  answer  stands  opposed  to  it), 
trusting  iu  the  word  of  God,  that  is,  in  his 
power  and  effectual  support.  I  need  not  my- 
self try  conclusions  to  see  whether  I  be  the 
Son  of  God,  nor  (which  answers  the  bent  of 
it)  need  I  at  this  time  give  a  trial  that  I  am 
the  Son  of  God.  So  he  diverts  the  satisfying 
him  in  that  point  of  his  Godhead,  and  answers 
only  lor  a  man  :  Man  shall  not  live  upon  bread 
alone,  &c. 

The  second  and  third  tem])tations,  whether 
they  were  by  change  of  place,  or  representa- 
tion of  species,  as  I  think  it  can  not  be  forci- 
bly either  concluded  or  refuted  either  way,  so 
it  is  not  of  much  benefit  or  importance  that  it 
should  be.  The  motion  of  throwing  him 
down  headlong  (though  it  is  not  thus  urged 
by  any  that  I  remember)  seems  to  me  with 
the  strongest  appearance  to  incline  to  a  real 
standing  upon  the  place  :  for  if  not,  then  it 
was  necessary  that  both  the  place  and  the 
steepness  should  not  only  be  represented  to 
our  Savior's  imagination,  but  that  he  should 
really  believe  that  he  was  there  :  otherwise, 
the  temptation  of  casting  himself  down  thence 
were  altogether  null,  and  could  have  no  place. 
Nor,  though  it  may  be  granted  thai  he  might 
suffer  a  false  represeniaiion  (somewhat  of 
which  must  likely  be  allowed,  lo  make  up  the 
third  temptation,  with  the  advantage  of  a 
high  mountain),  yet,  whether  we  may  fairly 
admit  in  our  Savior  an  ap[)rehension  of  such 
a  *alse  representation  as  true,  should  be  con- 
sidered. 

But  leaving  that,  we  find  the  second  tempt- 
ation to  be,  clearly,  to  a  presumptuous  tempt- 
ing of  God,  and  the  third,  to  the  horridest 
apostacy  from  God,  even  to  worshipping  of 
•hf- devil,  and  that  baited  with  an  offer  of  the 


world  ;  first  to  commit  idolatry  to  it,  and  tlien 
next,  to  himself  for  it.  He  is  cleariy  beat  off 
in  all ;  it  could  not  be  otherwise.  But  truly 
this  may  seem  strange,  that  Satan  durst  sug 
gest  such  horrid,  foul  notions,  to  so  holy,  sc 
singularly  holy  a  man,  for  that  at  least  ht 
knew  him  to  be,  and  had  strong  suspici(jns  that 
he  was  more  than  a  man,  even  the  Son  of  God. 

And  this  1  think  the  stjvereign  satisfaction 
of  a  soul,  in  the  matter  of  blasphemous  injec- 
tions, which  many,  even  holy  persons,  are 
troubled  wiih  :  much  is  said  to  it  by  many  ; 
I  but  surely  there  is  nothing  like  the  view  of 
this  instance.    That  he  uses  thee  so,  what 
\  wonder!    He  had  the  hardiness  even  to  use 
!  thy  Lord  so,  who  was  so  high  above  all  stain 
of  sin,  as  in  all  things,  so  in  these.    True,  in- 
'  deed,  we  can  not  well  avoid  all  soil,  but  some 
guilt  sticks  to  us;  as  from  the  throwing  of  a 
dirty  ball  against  the  wall,  though  it  is  pres- 
ently beat  back,  yet  it  leaves  a  spot  behind  ; 
our  nature  being  so  easily  receptive  of  sinful 
defilement.    Bui  he  was  aliogethcr  undefilc- 
able  in  all  assaults  ;  yet  this  is  our  grand  com- 
fort, that  he  was  tempted,  and  even  that  with 
such  vile  things.  So,  then,  if  finding  any  such 
I  thing,  cry  to  him  for  help,  as  one  who  can 
feel  it,  and  entreat  him  to  see  how  grating 
I  these  thoughts  are  to  thee,  and  to  pity  thee, 
and  repel  Satan  ;  and  he  will  do  it,  and  will 
account  those  not  ;hy  sin  at  all,  but  his  ;  and 
j  if  anything  stick,  will  wash  it  off  with  his 
j  own  blood. 

Observe.   The  devil  can  cite  scripture.  Re- 
ceive not,  then,  everything  at  first,  that  comes 
with  an  it  is  icritlen  ;  and  as  not  everything 
of  men's  opinions  thus  backed,  so,  not  those 
doubts  that  are  raised  within  thee,  and  man- 
aged against  thee  in  this  way.    How  often 
does  Satan  make  a  poor  believer  at  a  stand 
by  some  scripture  objection  !    But  take  this 
\  course  :  follow  thy  Captain  in  this.    Satan  is 
I  a  liar,  and  cuts  and  pares  when  he  cites  ;  as 
he  here  left  out,  thi/  nays,  to  make  room  for 
Cast  thyself  headlong,  which  was  not  the 
way.    Now  our  Savior  docs  not  contest  with 
him  about  this,  takes  no  notice  of  that  sleight, 
j  but  in  a  plain,  full  couiiter-hlow,  beats  him 
j  out  of  it,  gives  him  another!/  is  luritlen,  that 
!  carries  clear  how  he  abused  his.    And  there 
is  admirable  wisdom  in  this,  much  more  than 
'  if  he  had  disputed  about  the  word  which  all 
observe  here,  was  cunningly  left  out  ;  for  in 
this,  our  Savior  teaches  us  our  better  way  in 
this  case,  either  with  perverse  men,  in  the 
avouching  of  their  errors,  or  with  Satan,  in 
his  thus  assaulting  us  with  misalleged  scrip- 
ture, not  so  much  to  subtilize  about  the  very 
place  or  words  abused.    It  may  be  so  cun- 
ningly done  sometimes,  that  we  can  not  well 
find  it  out  ;  but  this  downright,  sure  way 
1  beats  off  the  sopliister  with  another  place, 
clearly  and  plainly  carrying  that  truth  which 
he  opposes  and  we  adhere  to.    So,  though 
thou  canst  not  clear  the  sense  of  an  obscure 
scripture,  thou  shah  always  find  a  sufficient 
guard  in  another  that  is  clearer. 


Veh.  10—17.] 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


423 


Our  Savior  was  pleased  thus  to  bear  many 
assaults,  and  thus  to  fence  and  beat  off  the 
tempter  by  the  word,  boih  for  our  instruction 
and  comfort,  who  oiiierwise,  for  himself, 
could  immediately  have  repelled  him,  and 
sent  him  back  at  first.  But  indeed  he  phased 
not  himself  in  anything  ;  had  an  eye  to  us  in 
all  he  did  and  suffered,  and  did  all  in  refer- 
ence to  our  advantage.  Oh,  how  should  we 
love  him  ! 

And  let  not  any  abuse  of  the  Scripture,  by 
Satan  or  by  men,  abate  our  esteem,  or  lead 
us  to  abandon  our  use  of  it  ;  but  let  us  study 
it  still,  labor  to  be  well  acquainted  with  it, 
make  it  our  magazine,  have  ready  our  de- 
fences thence  in  all  kinds  of  assault.  Oh  !  let 
this  word  dwell  richly  in  us,  for  it  is  our  life. 
A  stone  out  of  this  brook  smites  Goliath.  And 
observing  these  evils  here,  labor  to  be  forti- 
fied against  them.  Surely  they  were  main 
ones,  that  were  brought  forth  in  this  combat. 
Ready  we  are  either  to  distrust  our  God,  or, 
in  abused  confidence,  to  presume  upon  unwar- 
ranted v.'ays.  And,  for  the  third  temptation, 
how  strong  is  it,  though  not  to  gain  that 
gross  point  of  disclaiming  God  for  love  of  the 
world,  yet,  how  many  hearts  are  secretly  and 
insensibly  inveigled  and  stolen  away  from 
him  by  it,  drawn  to  neglect  his  worship,  or  to 
cold  remissness  in  it,  and  to  follow  the  ways 
of  the  honor,  gain,  or  ])leasures  of  this  world, 
that  Satan  suggests,  and  so  to  worship  him 
and  it  altogether,  instead  of  the  Lord  our  God, 
whom  alone  we  are  to  adore  and  serve,  and 
whose  due  is  all  our  heart !  . 

Ver.  10.  Get  thee  hence,  Satan.]  Thus, 
when  anything  moves  to  debauch  and  draw 
off  the  heart  from  God,  it  is  to  be  beat  away 
with  indignation.  And  thus  in  all  confiicts, 
contiime  fighting  in  thy  Lord's  strength  :  give 
not  over,  resist  still,  and  the  enemy  shall  fiee, 
as  here. 

Ver.  11.  Then  the  devil  leaveth  him.'\  Re- 
tires, indeed,  but  it  was  for  a  season,  as  St. 
Luke  hath  it  there,  ch.  iv.  ]5.  So  we  should 
still  make  for  new  onsets,  and  not  promise 
ourselves,  upon  a  cessation,  perpetual  quiet, 
but  ratlijr  fortify  in  those  times  of  breathing. 
But  th;=  know,  that  our  Lord  is  tender  of  us, 
and  will  mlay  our  painful  conflicts  with  sweet 
comforts.  Let  us  reiiieiriber  to  call  our  I-ord 
to  take  him  off,  and  he  will  not  see  us  sur- 
charged or  tempted  above  what  we  are  able, 
or  he  enables  us,  to  bear:  and  he  will  refresh 
us  with  consolations,  strong  consolations  as 
we  need.  And  these  in  a  high  degree  usu- 
ally (ijllow  hard  confiicts  patiently  and  stoutly 
sustained.  Our  Lord  had  a  cordial  draft  botii 
before  and  after  this  conflict :  before,  in  the 
last  verse  of  chapter  iii.,  he  was  confirmed  in 
the  very  point  he  was  assaulted  in:  This  is 
my  beloved  Son.  And  as  he  was  confirmed 
before,  so  was  he  comforted  after:  The  an- 
gels came  and  ministered  to  him.  Oh  !  the 
sweet  issue  our  Lord  gives  to  many  a  sad  bat-  j 
tie  of  weak  Christians,  wherein  they  possibly 
thought  once  that  it  was  lost,  and  that  they  | 


could  never  hold  out,  and  come  through  it 
But  never  think  so:  we  shall  come  through 
all,  and  the  day  shall  be  ours. 

Ver.  12.  Noiu  when  Jesus  had  heard  that 
John  icas  cast  into  prison,  he  departed  intit 
Galilee.]  We  need  not  fear.  God  uses  men, 
but  needs  them  not :  when  they  are  restrained 
or  removed,  he  can  provide  more.  When  John 
is  shut  up,  Jesus  comes  forth. 

Ver.  13.  And  leaveth  Nazareth.]  Not  being 
honored  in  his  own  country.  So,  commonness 
of  things  makes  them  cheap  and  low  with  us, 
how  excellent  soever.  This  disease  of  light- 
ness and  novelty,  so  natural  to  us,  we  have 
need  to  watch  against. 

Ver.  14-16.  that  it  might  be  fulfilled,  &c.] 
Now  the  prophecy  is  raised  to  its  higher 
sense.  The  relief  which  the  prophet  speaks 
of,  in  relation  to  a  temporal  sense,  v^as  but  a 
shadow.  This  is  lisrht  indeed,  Jesus  coming 
into  their  coasts  ;  tlie  Sun  of  righteousness 
arising.  Oh,  how  pitiful  is  the  condition  of 
those  nations  that  still  are  in  darkness,  desti- 
tute of  his  light !  How  should  we  pity  thera  ! 
But  how  much  more  pitiable  their  condition, 
who,  in  the  midst  of  this  light,  are  still  in 
darkness  ;  it  shining  in  .their  land,  but  not  in 
their  hearts  !  These  still  are  under  the  shad- 
ow of  death.  Oh  I  fear  and  tremble,  you  that, 
in  the  clear  gospel  light,  are  sitting  still  in 
your  natural  darkness  of  mind  and  hardness 
of  heart,  and  still  loving  that  darkness,  and 
refusing  this  Divine  light.  Oh  I  let  it  in,  that 
you  may  live,  and  not  pass  from  darkness  to 
darkness,  from  inward  darkness  to  utter  dark- 
ness, where  is  nothim!  but  weeping,  and  wail- 
ing, and  gnashing  of  teelh. 

Ver.  17.  From  that  lime  Jesus  began  to 
preach.]  So  gave  he  forth  light  by  preach- 
ing, showing  the  way  of  salvation.  And  he 
was  eminently,  the  lisht — he  that  very  way 
of  salvation.  He,  the  Prince  and  Savior  ex- 
alted to  give  repentance,  and  remission  of 
sins,  and  the  kinijdom,  yet  humbles  himself 
to  be  the  Herald,  to  proclaim  his  own  gift 
and  pardon.  And  in  humbling  himself  to 
this  work  of  preaching,  he  hath  highly  ex- 
alted it.  Shall  ever  that  be  accounted  low, 
aud  fit  only  for  mean  persons,  which  the 
Lord  of  glory  made  his  calling  and  work  in 
the  world  ? 

And  to  say.  Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  at  hand.  \  This  was  said  before  to 
he  the  sermon  of  his  forerunner  ;  not  only  the 
same  sense,  but  the  very  same  words.  He 
who  needed  to  borrow  from  none,  but  gives 
all  to  all,  yet  disdains  not  to  preach  this  over 
after  John  Baptist.  There  is  certainly  a  pride 
and  vanity  in  the  minds  of  men,  in  that  ex 
treme  affecting  still  either  to  speak  or  hear 
new  things.  Oh,  were  you  called  together 
often,  and  this  said  as  from  God,  liepent  ye, 
for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand,  and 
found  obedient,  now  one  heart  yielding,  and 
then  another,  though  it  might  seem  p(Jor  to 
vain  heads,  yet  oh,  what  excellent  preaching 
were  it  I    God's  voice  more  regarded  and 


42.1 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[Chap.  V 


owned,  would  inal'e  that  sweet  which  we  of- 
ten despise. 

Ripcnl,  for  tin  ktt,j;dom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand.  Oh,  sweet  invitation,  the  olYer  of  a 
l)ardon  to  a  rejieniing  sinner  I  hut  how  much 
more  that  of  a  kingdom!  He  miuht  say,  Ec- 
]/f;nt,for  the  prison  of  hell  is  at  hand,  if  ye  do 
not;  hut  rather  he  this  way  draws,  by  the 
hapj)iness  and  glory  attending  our  return. 

Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand.  And  at  hand  to  you,  if  ye  repent,  to 
be  yours  ;  grace  and  all  the  rich  promises  of 
It,  and,  within  a  while,  full  glory.  And  no 
more  ado  ;  it  is  at  hand.  Let  go  your  hold 
of  the  one,  and  straight  catch  hold  of  th.e 
other  ;  it  is  at  hand.  But  who  believes  this  ? 
—If  we  do,  what  madness  is  it  not  to  accept 
It ! 

The  chapter  hath,  first,  our  Savior's  prepa- 
ration to  his  public  calling  ;  secondly,  his  be- 
gun administration  of  it  in  all  the  lliree  parts, 
l)reachin.g  of  the  gospel,  calling  disciples,  and 
working  miracles. 

Ver.  IS.  And  Jesus  walking  hij  the  sea  of 
Galilee,  saw  two  brethren.']  Here  we  have 
the  calling  of  two  pairs  of  brethren,  both  of 
the  same  calling,  fishers,  to  a  higher  calling 
of  the  same  name,  fishers  still,  hut,  of  men  : 
that  is  the  excellency  and  dignity  of  it.  Not 
now  to  follow  out  the  resemblance,  there  is 
much  art  in  this  Divine  fishing  of  human 
souls,  both  in  casting  the  net  in  public  preach- 
ing, and  angling  in  private  converse. 

Ver.  19.  And  they  straight leay  left  their 
nets  and  followed  hun.]  This  was  Elijah's 
touch  to  Elisha,  What  have  I  done  to  thee  ? 
Did  our  hearts  once  hear  his  voice,  net  would 
not  entangle  us ;  nor  cables  bind  us ;  no 
I'riends,  nor  parents,  nor  business,  would  hold 
us  :  we  should  break  from  all,  yea,  if  it  might 
be  otherwise,  would  run  from  all  to  follow 
him. 

Ver.  23.  And  Jesus  ivenl  about  all  Galilee.'] 
Here  observe  his  Divine  power  and  goodness 
shining  forth  in  the  miraculous  cure  of  all  dis- 
eases. But  these  bodily  cures  were  but  pre- 
ludes of  the  main  work  ;  but  signs  hung  out 
to  show  where  the  physician  of  souls  dwelt. 
And  whatsoever  be  thy  spiritual  maladies, 
though,  never  so  many  and  so  desperate,  yet 
come.  Never  any  came  to  him  and  went 
away  uucured. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Vf.e.  1.  And  seeing  the  multitude,  he  went  up  into  a 
mountain.  .\nd  when  he  was  set,  his  disciples  came 
unto  liim. 

Ver.  2.  And  he  opened  his  mouth,  and  taught  thp.n, 
saying,  Blessed  are  the  poor,  &c. 

Others  may  grow  stale,  but  this  sermon, 
never  so  often  read  over,  is  always  new.  Oh, 
how  full  of  Divine  doctrine!  How  plain,  and 
yet  how  hi;:h  and  excellent,  delighting  the 
soul  as  a  hrigh    dav,  clear  light  all  along  I 


We  need  not  strain  for  the  clearness  of  il  up- 
on that  word.  He  opened  Ins  mouth  ;  for  every 
word  here  spoken  speaks  for  itself;  carr'cs, 
as  light  does,  its  own  evidence.  He  beguis 
with  that  great  j)oini  which  all  are  concerned 
in,  and  all  naturally  someway  desirous  tc 
know,  the  docirine  ol  blessedness,  in  short 
aphorisms  ;  and  the  rest  of  his  discourse  fol- 
lows out  the  same  argument,  directing  the 
way  to  happiness  in  those  graces,  purity, 
meekness,  mercy,  &c.  For  although  all  grace 
is  radically  one,  and  he  that  hath  one  hath 
all,  yet  they  are  thus  specified  :  1st.  For  the 
weakness  of  our  apprehensions,  which  take 
not  full  views  so  easily,  they  are  spelled  out 
to  us,  but  only  so,  that  taking  them  the  easier 
severally,  as  letters  of  one  word,  we  may  set 
them  together  again,  as  all  being  one  blessed- 
ness. 2dly.  Though  evety  true  Christian  hath 
all  graces,  yei  all  are  not  alike  eminent  in  all. 
We  may  confidently  say,  that  there  is  no  one 
who  equally  excels  in  every  <rrace  ;  but  in 
several  persons,  several  particular  graces  do 
most  act  and  evidence  themselves,  shooting 
up  above  the  rest ;  yea,  in  one  and  the  same 
person,  one  grace  will,  at  some  times,  be 
more  evident  and  sensible  than  at  others. 
3dly.  They  are  thus  parcelled  out  to  us,  that 
we  may  api)ly  ourselves  the  more  particularly 
sometimes  to  the  study  of  one,  sometimes  to 
the  study  of  anothev,  the  neglect  whereof  is 
a  great  cause  of  our  great  deficiency  in  them 
all.  We  hear  them  and  like  them,  may  be, 
and  think  these  are  good,  but  we  do  not 
s§t  to  the  attainment  of  them  :  we  apjilaud, 
and  leave  them  there  ;  approve  all,  and  neg- 
lect all.  If  at  any  time  we  have  any  desires 
after  them,  they  are  general  and  confused  * 
we  grasp  at  all,  and  catch  nothing. 

This  I  would  recommend,  to  be  more  par 
ticular  in  our  purposes  ;  sometimes  to  set  our- 
selves to  some  one  grace,  not  secluding  nor 
turning  away  the  rest,  for  that  can  not  be,  but 
yet,  more  particularly  plying  that  one,  were  it 
humility,  poverty  of  spirit,  meekness,  or  any 
oiher  ;  and  for  some  time  to  make  that  one 
our  main  task,  were  it  for  some  weeks  or 
months  together,  and  examine  every  day's 
practice  in  that  particularly.  But  like  unset- 
tied  students  among  many  books,  v/e  rove  and 
reel,  and  make  offers  at  every  grace,  and  still 
lag  behind,  and  make  no  considerable  pur- 
chase nor  pr(jgression  in  any. 

Now,  for  blessedness,  what  is  the  common 
voice,  at  least,  of  men's  minds  and  practices, 
though  they  speak  it  not  out?  Blessed  are 
the  ric\  ,  the  honorable,  the  well-landed,  or 
well-bei.iended,  and  they  that  can  grow  great 
enough  in  the  world.  But  if  we  believe  this 
Teacher,  it  is  not  these  ;  no  such  matter.  But 
if  blessedness  be  in  things  spiritual  and  in-' 
ward,  then  men  would  imagme  readily  of 
those  things  which  sound  highest,  that  have 
some  grandeur,  and  somewhat  heroic  in  tbem 
— in  trreat  knowledge  of  faculty,  and  zeal  for 
high  services,  or  in  raptures,  and  ecstasies, 
and  singular  Divine  experiencts.    But  here 


VuR.  13—17.] 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


42& 


there  is  nothing  of  these  neither,  but  the 
meanest,  most  des«"'ised  things  ;  yea,  those 
that  (some  of  them)  seem  to  sound  as  miser- 
able and  sad  :  The  poor  in  spirit — they  that 
mourn — the  meek,  &c.  Oh  !  sweet,  lowly 
graces,  poverty  of  spirit,  meekness,  that  grow 
low,  and  are  of  dark  hue,  as  the  violet's,  but 
of  a  fragrant  smell  ;  as  one  says,  chief  in  gar- 
lands :  these  are  prime  in  the  garlands  of  a 
Christian.  Oh  !  study  these  ;  seek  to  have 
them  growing  within  you.  Suffering  remark- 
able martyrdom  may  seem  to  have  some  lus- 
tre in  it :  but  how  take  you  it,  to  be  reviled 
and  scoffed  at,  and  hated,  and  taunted,  by. 
Christians  in  name,  because  thou  desirest  to 
be  one  indeed  ? 

Each  of  these  beatitudes,  for  all  the  low 
sound  at  first,  ends  high,  and  makes  good  the 
title.  Blessed  are  the  poorin  spirit  ;  ay,  they 
are  the  only  rich,  heirs  to  a  kingdom,  and 
such  a  kingdom  :  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Lofty,  vain  minds  are  truly  base.  By  poverty 
in  spirit,  is  meant,  I  conceive,  not  only  sense 
of  spiritual  want  (though  commonly  it  is  so 
taken),  but,  more  comprehensively,  a  lowly 
frame  of  heart,  not  swelled  either  with  de- 
sires, or  delight,  or  conceit,  of  any  worldly 
advantage,  or  self-excellency,  either  outward 
or  inward.  Thus  may  a  man  be,  amid  very 
many  such  advantages  and  riches,  poor,  and 
that  is  his  blessing.  Yet  here  is  connoted,  1 
perceive,  the  condition  of  outward  poverty  as 
more  suiting,  and  usually  more  connected  with 
that  temper  of  spirit.  In  Luke  it  is,  Blessed 
are  the  poor,  opposed  to  the  rich.  And  he 
that  is  poor  in  spirit,  if  outwardly  poor,  is 
truly  rich  in  the  rnidst  of  poverty.  So,  they 
that  mourn  shall  he  comforted,  and  the  meek 
shall  inherit  the  earth.  Not  that  this  is  their 
all,  for  theirs  is  the  kinij;dom  of  heaven,  also. 
But  this  word  from  the  Psalm  carries  a  fit 
promise,  that  meekness,  seeming  to  be  that 
which  makes  a  man  a  prey  to  every  one,  and 
easily  wronged  and  thrust  out  by  all,  yet  shall 
be  provided  and  protected,  and  he  shall  enjoy 
60  much  even  of  this  earth  as  is  fit  for  him, 
with  more  quiet  and  sweetness  than  the  [)r<md 
and  boisterous,  who  are  ever,  almost,  in  con- 
tentions. 

The  pure  in  heart,  abridginj  themselves  of 
sights  and  enjcjytnenis  that  the  world  seeks 
after — sensual  delights,  the  lust  of  the  flesh, 
the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life  — 
shall  have  a  better  sight,  and  purer  joy, 
suiting  them  ;  sweetest  communion  with 
G-od  here,  and,  ere  long,  full  vision;  for 
they  shall  see  God.  So  in  the  rest  it  is 
clear. 

Blessed  are  they  which  are  persecuted  

Rejoice.']  Look  ofl  from  your  sufferings,  and 
each  way  you  will  find  matter  of  encoura^'e- 
mentand  joy.  Locjk  hack  to  the  prophets  that 
were  before  you  and  look  forward  to  the  re- 
ward in  heaven  tnat  is  before  you.  The  firm 
belief  of  that  k  ingdom,  that  glory  above,  that 
vision,  what  will  it  not  make  easy  to  forego  or 
undergo,  to  do  or  suffer  ?  It  is  the  want  of  that 
54 


belief  that  keeps  the  low  things  of  this  earth 
so  high  in  our  esteem. 

Ver.  13,  14.  Ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth — 
ye  are  the  light  of  the  world.]  This  nexl 
point  particularly  concerns  the  disciples,  and 
after  them,  the  ministers  of  Christ.  In  these 
resemblances  lie  their  dignity  and  their  duty  ; 
and  the  former  is  used  for  urging  the  latter  ; 
and  that  is  the  best  view  of  it.  Let  men  look 
as  much  as  they  can  upon  the  excellency  of 
this  their  high  calling,  so  that  it  raise  their 
spirits  to  high  endeavors  of  acting  suitably  to 
it.  What  a  simple  thing,  to  feed  self-conceit 
by  this  !  Alas,  poor  man  !  He  is  light  indeed 
in  another  sense,  who  grows  vain  upon  it 
that  he  is  called  light,  and  does  not  rather 
tremble  that  he  is  so  unlike  it  in  this.  Salt 
— what  were  all  table  provisions  without 
this?  Light — what  were  the  world  without 
this  ?  Christ  communicates  his  own  name  to 
them.  The  light  of  the  world.  .\'.\  the  chil- 
dren of  God  are  children  of  light,  but  his  mes- 
sengers more  eminently  so.  Men  that  think 
ministers  a  needless  commodity  in  the  world, 
if  they  give  any  belief  to  the  gos])el,  may  see 
what  they  are  :  and  if  you  could  live  well 
without  salt,  and  without  light,  so  might  ye 
without  ministers. 

But,  alas  I  how  much  unsavory  salt,  how 
many  dark  lights  are  among  us  !  And  if  the 
salt  lose  its  savor,  it  can  do  good  to  nothing, 
and  nothing  can  do  good  to  it.  The  most  un- 
profitable piece  of  the  world,  is  either  a  pro- 
fane, a  carnal,  or  a  formal,  dead  minister  ;  he 
is  good  for  nothing — unsavory  salt,  of  all 
things  the  most  unsavory.  And  if  the  light 
within  thee  he  darkness  (as  our  Savior  says  af- 
terward), how  great  is  that  darkness  !  Oh, 
that  Christ  shined  more  in  our  labors,  in  our 
conversation,  and  in  companies  where  we 
come  ;  that  we  were  more  savory  and  sea- 
soning others  ;  not  in  jestings,  or  in  sports 
(these  salts  are  unsavory  in  ministers),  but  in 
words  of  edification,  ministering  grace  to  the 
hearers  !  And  this,  though  it  specially  ap- 
plies to  ministers,  yet  extends  to  all  Chris- 
tians. Let  your  light  so  shine,  not  to  make 
yourselves  somehody,  but  for  the  glory  of  the 
Father  of  lights,  whence  you  have  the  light, 
your  heavenly  Father.  Oh,  that  this  were 
predominant  in  all !  Happy  that  heart  that 
is  filled  with  constant  desires  of  this,  and  that 
aims  at  the  glory  of  God,  minding  self  in  noth- 
ing, hut  God  in  all  ! 

Ver.  17.  Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  de- 
stroy the  law  or  the  prophets.]  He  lays  hold 
of  this,  takes  occasion,  upon  clearing  a  mis- 
take that  had  arisen  respecting  hiin,  to  pass 
(jn  to  such  d(jctrincs  as  he  knew  were  neces- 
sary for  the  clearing  of  the  law  of  God, 
wronged  by  false  glosses  :  and  he  thus  vindi- 
cates both  himself  and  that  law  whereof  he 
was  the  lord  and  author.  Some,  possibly,  to 
obstruct  his  way  and  prejudice  him  in  men's 
opinions,  spake  of  him  as  a  teacher  of  new 
j  doctrine,  and  an  enemy  of  the  law:  others,  it 
,  may  be,  hearing  of  a  doctrine  that  sounded 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[Chap.  VI 


new,  would  willini;ly  have  had  it  so,  would 
have  been  free,  and  enjoy  iiberiinism.  Now, 
to  dispel  boih  misapprehensions,  our  Savior 
owns  ills  purpose  to  be  nothing  such.  On  tlie 
contrary,  /  come  not  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil. 
This  did  he  in  all  things,  in  doctrine  and  in 
practice  :  and  he  declares  it  a  thing  impossi- 
ble for  any  to  annul  the  !aw  ;  that  if  any 
should  offer  at  it,  in  his  actions  or  doctrine, 
he  should  undo  himself,  but  not  the  least  tit- 
tle of  the  law.  Yet,  further,  these  men  that 
cry  up  the  law,  and  would  charge  me  with 
the  dissolving  of  it,  for  all  their  noise,  I  de- 
clare to  you,  that  except  you  lake  heed,  and 
observe  that  law  better  than  they  do,  ye  can  not 
enter  into  heaven.  How  many  deceive  them- 
selves, as  these  self-pleasins,  vain  men  did  ! 
But  be  warned.  Except  your  righteousness, 
your  religion,  go  beyond  the  civil  neighbor,  the 
good  church-keeper,  the  formal,  painted  pro- 
fessor, ye  shall  fall  short  of  that  which  both 
you  and  they  reckon  upon.  How  many,  who 
think  themselves  fair  for  heaven,  shall  find 
themselves  wofuUy  mistaken  when  it  is  past 
help  !  Oh  !  examine  well  in  due  time,  and 
see  whether  you  are  indeed  fur  heaven  or  not. 
It  is  the  saddest  mistake  ever  man  fell  into, 
to  dream  on  of  heaven,  till  he  find  himself  in 
hell. 

Ver.  21.  Yc  have  heard,  S(C.~\  Now  he 
clears  the  law,  and  teaches  the  true  spiritu- 
al sense  of  it,  in  divers  points  of  it,  wherein 
It  was  grossly  abused  ;  shows  that  it  binds 
not  only  the  hand  and  the  tongue,  but  even 
the  heart.  Men  aiming  at  self-righteousness 
by  the  law,  and  desirous  of  that  as  cheap  as 
might  be,  with  the  least  pains,  not  being 
willing  or  able  to  rise  to  its  perfection,  drew 
it  down  and  shaped  it  to  their  imperfection  : 
cut  it  to  the  measure  of  external  obedience, 
and  that  of  the  easiest  size.  Thus  men  readi- 
ly do  ;  they  rather  fancy  the  word  and  rules 
of  Christianity  to  their  humors,  than  purge  and 
correct  those  humors  by  the  word.  This  expo- 
sition of  the  sixth  commandment,  condemns 
not  only  gross  murder,  but  rash  anger  and 
reviling  speech,  as  a  breach  of  it,  and  con- 
demnable  :  which  is  expressed  in  allusion  to 
the  civil  judicatures  among  the  Jews,  and 
thence,  in  case  of  auy  such  thing,  he  presses 
speedy  and  undelayed  reconcilement,  as  a 
thing  most  acceptable  to  God,  and  without 
which  no  other  homages  or  religious  perform- 
ances would  be  acceptable  to  him.  Now  it 
is  not  only  anger  without  cause  that  is  con- 
demned, but  vain,  undue  anger,  exceeding 
cause  and  measure.  Were  there  the  con- 
Bciousness  and  constant  regard  of  this  ;  were 
every  reproachful  or  disdainful  word,  every 
harsii  look,  every  rising  angry  thought  against 
thy  brother  looked  on  as  murder,  oh,  in  what 
order  would  it  put  thy  tongue,  eye,  and  heart, 
in  this  respect  !  This  we  hear,  and  think  it 
should  be  thus,  but  we  have  not  resolved  that 
It  must  be  thus,  do  not  watch  and  pray  that 
it  may  be  so,  after  an  unchaste  look  and 
touch  ol  impure  desire,  though  not  breaking 


out  to  act,  yea,  though  not  ripening  within 
to  full  consent. 

And  by  occasion  of  this,  a  man  being  ready 
to  think,  Oh,  how  strait,  how  hard  is  this 
he  adds,  in  verse  29,  a  useful  advice,  and  a 
powerful  encouragement  with  it.  If  thine 
eye  offend  thee — anything  that  proves  a  snare, 
how  dear  soever,  as  a  right  eye,  right 
hand.  Men  are  loath  to  pare  oil  or  abridge 
occasions  of  sin,  where  some  strong  interest 
binds  them.  But  thus  to  go  whole  and  sound 
to  hell  ! — Oh  !  better  limp  to  heaven. 

Ver.  31.  Then  follows  of  divorce,  which, 
upon  any  any  difference,  was  worn  into  com- 
mon use,  and  opinion  of  lawfulness.  After- 
Avard,  he  speaks  of  usual  vain  swearins;, 
a  sin  which  men  have  always  affected,  even 
they  who,  by  profession,  are  God's  own  peo- 
ple: at  which  a  man  might  wonder,  did  not 
we  find  it  so  lamentably  true.  But  yet, 
Swear  not  at  all,  not  after  the  liberty  you 
take  by  swearing  either  by  heaven  or  earth, 
thinking  thus  you  spare  God's  name ;  but 
swearing  by  them  must  have  relation  to  God, 
and  so  his  name  is  interested.  But  oh  !  a 
little  reverence  for  the  great  God  would 
would  make  thee  tremble  at  it.  Nothing  is 
stronger  evidence  of  a  graceless  heart,  than 
oaths  and  profane  swearing. 

Lastly,  at  ver.  43,  we  have  that  sweet  doc- 
trine of  not  revenging,  but  patiently  bearing, 
and  readily  forgiving  of  injuries,  and  loving 
enemies,  and  doing  good  to  all.  This  does 
not  bar  any  calm  way  of  self-righting,  to 
which  there  is  sometimes  an  obligation  ;  but 
men  overstretch  it,  and  passion  and  self-love 
domineer,  under  this  pretext.  Therefore, 
the  words  sound  a  little  extreme,  as  a  coun- 
ter-bowing of  our  crooked  hearts,  but  it  is  to 
bring  them  straight.  Let  Julian  and  other 
atheists  laugh  at  it,  but  it  is  the  glory  of 
Christians.  No  doctrine  or  religion  in  the 
!  world  presses  so  nmch  clemency  and  inno- 
j  cency,  and  bounty  as  theirs,  even  to  sworn 
'  enemies.  This,  we  say,  is  its  glory.  And 
whereas  it  seems  to  render  men  sheepish,  to 
make  thern  less  than  men,  it  makes  them  in- 
deed more  than  men,  even  like  God.  Benig- 
nity and  mercy  are  divine  and  Godlike,  chief 
traits  of  God's  image  in  his  cliildren.  His 
sun  rises,  and  his  rain  descends  on  the  just 
and  the  unjust.  So,  a  diffusive,  sweet,  boun- 
tiful soul,  is  still  desiring  to  do  good,  by  hand, 
by  counsel,  by  any  comfort  within  its  reach 
i  toward  all,  rewarding  good  for  evil.  These 
things,  deeply  thought  on  and  really  practis- 
ed, would  make  Christians  indeed,  children 
like  their  Heavenly  Father. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Christ's  business  upon  earth  was  to  bring 
j  man  to  heaven.    He  came  down  and  became 
man  for  that  purpose  ;  carne  forth  from  God, 
I  to  bring  us  back  to  God.  1  Pet.  iii.  18.  As 


Ver.  1.] 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


427 


his  lii'eand  death,  so  lis  divine  doctrine  tends 
to  tliat,  to  enli2:hten  the  minds  of  men  with 
the  riglit  linowledge,  and  inflame  tlieir  hearts 
with  the  real  love,  ol'  God.  We  are  drown- 
ed in  sense  and  the  love  of  earthly  things  ; 
and  in  spiritual  things,  our  hearis  are  sensu- 
al and  eartidy.  Now  you  perceive  the  doc- 
trine of  this  chapter,  clearly  aiming  at  the 
raising  of  men's  hearts  to  heaven.  That  is 
the  end  of  the  gospel  and  all  preachii^g,  that 
men  may  learn,  in  all  their  actions,  to  eye 
God  more  and  man  less  ;  to  be  less  earnest 
and  careful  for  earth,  and  more  for  heaven. 
This  is  the  scope  of  the  chapter. 

These  two  main  evils  in  the  heart  of  man, 
hypocrisy  and  earthliness,  spring  from  igno- 
rance anil  forgetfulness  of  God.  Deep  persua- 
sions of  God  and  heavenly  things,  would  set 
men  and  earthly  things  very  low  in  our  hearis. 
Would  it  be  possible  for  men  to  love  the 
praise  of  men  more  than  the  praise  of  God, 
if  they  considered  what  he  is,  and  what  man 
is  ;  how  high  and  how  lasting  a  good  is  his 
lilf  nig  and  approbation,  how  poor  and  vanish- 
ing a  thing  is  man's  good  opinion  ?  Oh,  athe- 
ism, atheism!  hence  springs  the  love  of  pres- 
ent things.  Both  these  go  under  that  name, 
present  esteem,  and  present  possessions.  The 
one,  the  love  of  air  (as  I  may  say),  the  other, 
the  love  of  earth  ;  and  both  spring  from  want 
of  belief  and  love  of  heaven,  so  high  above 
both.  This  is  the  great  work,  to  call  off  the 
eye  from  this  low  prospect,  to  raise  it  up 
higher,  to  look  not  on  things  sfrn,  hut  on 
thimrs  not  seen.  And  oh,  the  odds  !  Things 
that  are  seen,  are  temporal :  thimis  that  are 
not  seen,  are  eternal.  2  Cor.  iv.  18.  At  this 
our  Savior  aims  his  discourse,  to  persua('. 
men  to  singleness  of  heart  in  their  perform- 
ance of  religious  duties,  and  moderation  of 
mind  in  their  provision  for  earthly  necessi- 
ties. 

Ilavmg  spoken  of  doing  good  in  the  former 
chapter,  he  speaks  now  of  the  manner  and  in- 
tention which  is  chiefly  to  be  heeded,  to  ex- 
ceed the  Pharisees,  who  did  many  outward 
actions,  particularly  of  these  here  specified, 
but  spcjiled  all  by  the  wretched  desire  of  vain 
glory  ;  a  subtle  ev'.  preying  most  on  best 
things,  alms,  prayer,  &c. — a  moth  that  breeds 
in  and  corrujus  the  finest  garments. 

The  duties  he  particularly  names,  as  these 
Xhrac,  alms,  prayer,  fnstinu;.  Almsl  scruple 
not  to  call  a  religious  duty,  though  of  the 
Second  Table,  upon  the  apostle  St.  James's 
warrant.  Jam.  i.  27.  And  the  way  of  it 
which  our  Savior  here  teaches,  will  make  it 
religious  indeed  :  to  regard  God  in  it,  not  to 
seek  to  ap[)ear  to  man,  yea,  to  seek  not  to  ap- 
pear to  man  ;  to  hide  and  cover  it  all  that 
thou  canst  from  men.  We  are  commanded, 
.ndeed,  in  the  former  chapter,  to  li  t  our  U'^ht 
shine  before  men:  this  here  is  not  contrary, 
/ea,  that  is  the  same  with  this:  this  barring 
(rain  self-glory,  that  directing  to  God's  glory. 
Let  your  li'^hl  shine,  but  so  shine  (like  the 
sun  that  gives  light  and  scarcely  suffers  you 


[  to  look  upon  itself)  that  they  may  see  yout 
works,  yourselves,  as  little  as  may  be,  an%. 
may  glorify,  not  you,  but  your  heavenly  fa 
ther.  Good  actions  can  not  well  be  hid,  and 
possibly,  some  even  of  this  sort,  giving  oi 
alms.  Yea,  sometimes  it  may  be  necessary 
for  example  and  exciting  oihers,  that  they 
should  know  of  it.  But  take  heed  that  vanity 
creep  not  in  under  this.  And  furiher  than 
either  unavoidable  necessity,  or  some  evident 
further  good  of  thy  neighbor  carries  it,  desire 
to  be  unknown  and  unseen  in  this.  When  it 
must  be  public,  let  thy  intention  be  secret. 
Take  no  delight  in  having  the  eyes  of  men 
on  thee  :  yea,  rather  count  it  a  pain,  and  still 
eye  God  alone,  for  he  eyes  thee.  And  re- 
member it,  even  in  public  act§  of  charity,  and 
other  such  like.  He  sees  in  secret.  Though 
the  action  be  no  secret,  the  spring,  the  source 
of  it  is,  and  he  sees  by  what  weights  ihe 
wheels  go,  and  he  still  looks  upon  that ; 
views  thy  heart,  the  hidden  bent  and  inten- 
tion of  it,  which  man  can  not  see.  So  then, 
though  in  some  cases  thou  must  be  seen  to 
do,  yet  in  no  case  do  to  be  seen  :  that  differs 
much,  and  wliere  that  is,  even  the  other  will 
be  as  little  as  may  be.  Thou  wilt  desire 
rather,  and,  where  it  can  be,  still  choose  to 
do  unseen,  that  others  should  know  as  little 
of  thy  charity  as  may  be,  besides  the  party 
that  receives  it  ;  yea,  if  it  might  be,  that  even 
the  party  rnishl  not  know, — as  he  that  stole 
in  money  under  bis  sick  friend's  ])illow  :  yea, 
to  let  thy  very  self  know  as  little  as  possible, 
as  our  Savior  here  expresses  it.  Let  not  thy 
left  hand  know  what  thy  right  hand  doeth. 
An  excellent  word  !  Reflect  not  on  it  as  thy 
action,  with  self-pleasing;  that  is  the  left 
hand  in  view  :  but  look  on  God's  gotjdness  to 
I  thee,  that  thou  art  not  in  the  receiver's  room, 
and  he  in  thine  ;  thai  he  makes  thee  able  to 
relieve  another,  which  many  are  not,  and  be- 
ing able,  makes  thee  willing,  which  far  few- 
er are.  For  both,  thou  art  to  bless  him,  and 
be  the  humbler",  the  more  thou  dost.  Take 
thy  very  giving  to  thy  distressed  brother,  as 
a  gift  from  God,  a  furiher  obligation  on  thee. 
Though  he  is  pleased  to  become  thy  debtor 
f(jr  a  furiher  reward,  yet,  truly,  the  thing  it- 
self is  his  gift,  and  a  great  one,  as  David  ac- 
knowledges excellently  in  their  offering  to 
the  Tem[)le.  1  Chron.  xxix.  14  .*  Hut  ivho  am 
I,  and  what  is  my  people,  that  we  should  be 
able  to  offer  so  willingly,  after  this  sort  ? 
For  all  things  come  of  thee,  and  of  thine  own 
have  we  given  thee.  Not  only  the  power,  but 
the  will  is  from  God,  both  of  thine  own  which 
we  give  thee. 

Oh,  how  far  are  the  most  from  this  direct 
looking  to  God,  this  heart-enlarging  love  of 
God'  And  therefore  are  they  so  close-hand- 
ed to  the  necessities  of  the  poor,  even  of  the 
saints,  where  some  enforcing  occasion,  some 
eye  of  men,  some  wretched  side  respect  or 
other  draws  it  not  forth.  A  thousand  objec- 
tions are  raised  :  either  they  need  it  not,  or 
will  not  accept  of  it,  or  have  this  fault  or  that, 


428 


JLtCTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[Chap.  T. 


are  proud  or  idle,  &:c.  But  dues  nr*.  thy  God 
see  what  is  at  tlie  bottom  of  all  this  losjic, 
these  disputes  before  they  come  off  with  any- 
thing 'i  And  when  ih  ju  dost  a;ive,  how  much 
of  self,  and  how  little  of  God  is  there  in  it  ! 
The  left  hand  knows,  yea,  it  is  done  with  the 
.eft  hand,  though  the  bodily  right  hand  doit. 
Most  nien'scharity  is  altogether  left-handed: 
sinister  respects  and  intentions  are  the  main 
movers  in  it. 

But  how  noble  and  happy  a  thing  is  a  truly 
liberal  heart  !  Even  natural  liberty  hath 
much  beauty  in  it,  but  much  more  that  which 
is  spiritual  and  Christian.  According  to  thy 
power,  abounding  in  good  works,  that  is 
riches, — rich  in  gnod  ivorks  ;  and  he  that  soiv- 
eth  ■plentifully,  shall  reap  plcnlifiilly.  And 
be  cneerful  in  it,  and  do  this  for  God,  out  of 
love  to  him.  And  for  the  fruil,  how  rich  is 
that!  So  much  as  it  is  fit  to  look  to  reward, 
look  to  God's  only.  Take  him  as  thy  debtor 
Upon  his  word,  rather  than  present  payment 
from  men.  Theirs  is  present  indeed,  and  our 
carnal  hearts  are  all  for  the  present,  but  con- 
p-'^er,  as  it  is  present,  so  it  passes  presently, 
and  is  straightway  spent.  God's  reward, 
though  to  come,  is  yet  certain,  and  when 
come,  is  abiding,  everlasting.  Thus,  in  re- 
spect of  all  good  actions,  and  a  holy,  self-de- 
nying course  of  life,  in  nothing  take  pay  of 
men.  How  vain,  what  smoke  is  it,  their 
breath,  and  how  soon  will  it  be  spent !  And 
then,  when  thou  shouldst  come  to  look  for  a 
reward  from  God,  to  know  it  is  done,  that 
you  are  paid  already  !  That  well  judged, 
is  one  of  the  saddest  words  in  all  the  scrip- 
ture, the  liypocrite's  doom.  He  hath  no 
more  to  look  for  ;  he  would  be  seen,  and  was 
seen:  he  would  be  praised  of  men,  and 
praised  he  was  ;  he  is  paid,  and  can  expect 
no  further,  but  that  reward  which  he  would 
gladly  miss,  the  hypocrite's  portion,  eternal 
fire. 

As  to  prayer,  how  foolish  and  how  wretch- 
ed a  thing  is  it,  to  speak  to  God,  and  look  to 
men  !  What  is  there  wherein  the  heart  will 
be  single  and  abstracted  from  men,  and  com- 
mune with  God  alone,  if  not  in  prayer  ? 

Another  evil,  much  like  to  that  of  show,  is 
here  corrected,  an  affected,  empty,  babbling 
length  in  prayer,  without  affection.  The 
want  of  that  makes  a  short  prayer  long  and 
babbling ;  while  much  of  that,  makes  a  long 
prayer  short:  as  in  a  Speech,  tlie  quality  is 
the  measure  of  the  quantity,  a  long  speech 
may  be  very  short.  This  affected  length  we 
incline  to  very  much  in  holy  exerc.ses  ;  many 
beads  are  dropped,  and  paternosters  said,  &c. 
We  lay  too  much  stress  on  the  continuance 
und  length  ;  think  all's  well,  if  enough  be 
done;  whereas  God  s  thoughts  arc  far  other, 
mnd  ours  should  conform  to  his.  It  is  enough 
if  well  done.  If  the  heart  is  close  to  him  in 
ever  so  sh()rt  a  prayer,  there  is  much  said  in 
.1  little.  We  usually  speak  many  words,  and 
say  little.  Yor  help  in  this,  the  most  excel- 
lent model  given  by  our  Savior,  is  here  in- 


serted;  the  beautiful  order  and  full  compre- 
hensive matter  of  which,  can  never  be  enough 
admired. 

Then  as  to  fasting,  which  is  a  necessary 
help  of  prayer :  it  does  unclog  and  free  the 
wings  of  the  soul  to  mount  to  heaven  ;  and 
in  some  respects,  it  is  a  help  to  alms  too. 
The  same  rule  must  here  be  observed,  to  ap- 
pear as  little  as  may  be ;  for  the  affected  dis- 
covery.spoils  and  loses  all,  yea,  the  needless 
discovery  runs  too  much  hazard,  therefore  it 
is  by  all  means  to  be  avoided.  Personal  fast- 
ing should  be  conducted  secretly.  Practise 
constant  temperance.  Better  to  let  the  bri- 
dle be  always  short  held  on  thy  appetite, 
than  sometimes  to  pull  it  in  extremely,  and 
then  lay  the  reins  loose  again;  that  is  the 
way  to  stumble  and  fall  in  both. 

Ver  19.  Lay  riot  up  for  yourselves  treas- 
ures ujion  earth.]  In  these  words  our  Savior 
enforces  the  other  point  of  moderation.  The 
heart  in  heaven,  and  fixed  on  the  true  treas- 
ure there,  is  the  only  way  to  regulate  and 
moderate  the  desires  in  all  things  on  earth. 
For  it  is  the  distempered  love  of  earthly 
things  that  causes  all  the  distracting  care 
about  them  ;  and  the  cause  of  that  distem- 
pered love  to  earth,  is  ignorance  of  heaven, 
and  disaffection  to.it.  Men  may  discourse  of 
many  considerations,  and  sometimes  think 
soherly,  how  foolishly  man  turmoils,  and  is 
disquieted  in  vain,  heaping  up,  and  not  know- 
ing who  shall  possess,  and  knowing  ceriainly 
that  not  he  very  long,  that  he  is  shortly  to 
leave  all.  But  these  things  will  not  prevail ; 
men  keep  their  hold.  Not  only  their  hands, 
but  their  hearts,  are  still  fastened  to  what 
they  have,  and  what  they  would  have  still 
more  of,  rather  than  of  those  excellent  things 
which  would  call  them  off  from  earthly  en- 
joyments, to  fix  them  on  heaven  and  immor- 
talitv,  if  these  were  really  believed. 

Where  moth  and  rust  doth  corrupt,  and 
where  thieves  break  through  and  steal.]  In- 
ward decay,  and  outward  hazards !  The 
treasure  above  is  free  from  both.  Oh,  that 
ours  were  there  !  But  hearts  that  are  so  lit- 
tle there,  make  it  very  questionable.  Oh,  for 
an  eye  single  and  pure,  enlightened  to  behold 
that  blessed  hope,  and  to  fix  upon  it  !  Can  an 
heir  of  heaven  be  much  troubled  upon  earth  ? 
Impossible.  If  at  any  time  his  heart  bends 
that  way,  will  he  not  straighily  check  him- 
self, and  think.  What  am  I  doing?  Is  this 
my  business  ?  The  Gentiles  seek  for  them, 
and  look  for  no  more:  they  must  make  the 
best  of  them  ;  but  would  I  be  content  with 
this  for  my  portion?  Where  lies  my  treas- 
ure ?    Who  is  my  master  ? 

Ver.  24-34.  No  man  can  serine  two  master.'^. 
Therefore  I  say  unto  you,  take  no  thought 
for  your  life.]  Our  Savior  here  argues 
against  the  service  of  the  world  ;  first,  as  un- 
worthy a  servant  of  Christ  ;  secondly,  as  im- 
possible for  him  ;  thirdly,  as  needless,  anil 
that  at  large.  Your  heavenly  Father  know 
your  need,  and  tares  for  you.    Ye  need  no' 


Veu.  1—5.] 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL, 


429 


botli  care,  his  ca  e  is  sufficient.  Further,  it 
is  fruitless  ;  such  your  perplexing  care  is,  for 
due  diligence  in  one's  calling  is  not  barred  ; 
yea,  that  is  to  le  used,  that  we  may  care 
the  less.  Then  it  avails  nothing.  Ver.  27. 
W'/iich  of  you  by  falsing  thought  can  add  one 
cuhit  unto  his  stature  ?  Lay  these  things  to- 
gether. Your  Father  will  care  and  provide. 
He  that  cJothes  the  lilies,  and  feeds  the  birds, 
will  he  allow  his  children  to  starve  and  go 
naked?  Then  think  how  preposterous  and 
absurd  to  distrust  him  in  these  petty  things, 
when  you  trust  him  in  so  much  greater. 

Vcr.  33.  But  seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of 
God.  A  kingdom  !  Oh,  seek  that,  and  ac- 
count, as  he  does,  all  things  else  but  accessa- 
ries, a  parcel  by-the-by,  to  be  cast  in.  But 
alas  !  little  see  we  of  that  ffreat  inheritance, 
that  kingdom,  and  therefore  these  little  poor 
things  seem  so  arreat  wi;h  us. 


CHAPTER  VH. 

We  have  here  continued  the  dropping  of 
the  divine  doctrine  of  Christ,  distilling  as  the 
dew  in  several  brief  rules,  as  pure  pearly 
drops  of  heavenly  wisdom,  in  divers  particu- 
lars of  main  use  and  concernment. 

First,  there  is  a  direction  concerning  the 
judging  of  men,  ver.  1-6.  Then,  another, 
regarding  the  supplicating  of  God,  ver.  7-11. 
Afier  that,  the  straight  rule  of  equity  given 
us,  ver.  12.  And  then,  the  straight  way  of 
hafipiness  recommended,  ver.  13, 14.  Lastly, 
a  double  word  of  caution  to  undeceive  us, 
both  in  the  discerning  of  others'  teaching, 
and  our  own  learning,  ver.  15-27  :  we  are  to 
beware  that  we  be  not  deluded  by  false 
teachers,  and  that  we  delude  not  ourselves, 
being  false  learners  under  the  teaching  of 
truth.  These  are  most  weighty  points  ;  but 
light  vain  hearts  are  little  taken  with  them. 

Ver.  1-.5.  Judge  not,  that  ye  he  not  judged.] 
This  is  a  most  common  evil  in  man's  per- 
verse nature.  Even  moral  men  have  taken 
notice  of  it  ;  yea,  almost  every  man  perceives 
and  hates  it  in  another,  and  yet  hugs  it  in 
himself.  This  is  the  evil — unequal  judging  ; 
sharpsighledness  in  the  evils  of  others,  and 
blindness  in  our  own.  And  this  very  evil  it- 
self, of  unequal  judging,  we  can  perceive  in 
another,  and  overlook  in  our  own  bosom. 
What  discourse  fills  most  societies,  and  con- 
sumes their  time,  but  descant  on  the  condi- 
tions and  actions  of  others! 

Lawful  judgments  in  states,  for  the  censur- 
ing and  pu.iishment  of  crimes,  are  not  barred  ; 
nor,  in  private  persons,  a  prudent  discerning 
of  what  is  evil  and  sinful  in  others,  and  judg- 
ing accordingly  of  it.  But  this  judging  is, 
the  usually  taking  the  chair  to  censure  all 
nersons  and  aflPairs  about  us  ;  the  prying  into 
the  actions,  yea,  even  the  intentions  of  men, 
either  through  a  false  glass,  seeing  faults 
where  there  are  none,  or  through  a  magnify- 


ing and  multiplying  glass,  making  them  ap- 
pear many  more  than  indeed  they  are.  This 
is  done,  first,  by  a  curious  searching  into  the 
actions  of  others  ;  secondly,  by  the  censuring 
of  good  and  indifferent  actions  as  evil ;  third- 
ly, by  hasty,  rash  censuring  of  doubtful  ac- 
tions, though  a  little  suspicious  ;  fourthly,  by 
a  true  censuring  of  evil  actions,  yet  not  with 
a  good  intention — not  to  amend  but  to  defame 
thy  brother:  and,  fifthly,  by  a  desperate  sen- 
tencing of  the  final  estate  even  of  the  worst. 

This  is  here  declared,  to  be  dangerous  and 
preposterous.  1st.  Dangerous,  by  drawing 
an  answerably  severe  censure  and  judgment 
upon  ourselves,  usually  even  from  men,  but, 
however,  certainly  from  God.  Thou  that 
playest  the  arch  critic  on  all  around  thee,  art 
thou  without  fault  ?  Hast  thou  flattered  thy- 
self into  such  a  I'ancy,  as  to  think  that  thou 
art  above  all  exception  ?  Is  there  nothing, 
either  a  true  or  a  seeming  blemish,  for  any  to 
point  at  in  thee.''  Surely  theie  is  something, 
some  part  lying  open,  that  men  may  hit  at 
thee;  and  they  will  surely  not  miss  to  do  it, 
I  if  thou  provokest  them.  However,  remem- 
ber, if  thou  shouldest  escape  all  tongues,  and 
pass  free  this  way,  yet,  Oae  unavoidable 
searching  hand  thou  must  come  under ;  His 
judgment  who  sees  thee  to  the  bottom,  and 
can  charge  thee  with  the  secret  sins  of  thy 
bosom.  He  can  and  will  so  pay  thee  home, 
all  thy  unjust  judgments  of  thy  brethren, 
with  just  judging  ol'  thy  ways  and  thoughts, 
that  thou  thyself  shalt  confess  no  wrong  is 
done  to  ihee.  For  with  what  judgment  ye 
judge,  ye  shall  he  jud ged. 

Then,  2dly.  It  is  absurd  and  preposterous. 
First  cast  the  beam  out  of  thine  own  eye.  If 
thou  wouldst,  to  any  good  purpose,  take 
knowledge  of  thy  brother's  failings,  begin  at 
home  ;  so  clear  thine  eye  as  to  discern  aright. 
A  heart  well  purified  speaks  the  most  suita- 
ble and  pertinent  reproofs,  and  they  prove  the 
most  piercing  and  powerful. 

Shall  these  things  prevail,  my  brethren  ? 
Were  it  love  to  God,  a  fire  of  holy  zeal,  it 
would  seize  first  on  things  nearest  it  ;  but  it 
is  a  flying,  infernal  wildfire,  rumiing  abrojid 
and  scattering  itself  Is  not  ibis  the  grand 
entertainment  ?  Such-a-one  is  a  foolish  per- 
son ;  another,  proud  ;  a  third,  covetous.  And 
of  persons  professing  religion,  yet  will  ye 
say.  They  are  as  contentious,  and  bitter,  and 
avaricious  as  others:  or,  at  best,  if  you  have 
nothing  to  say  against  them  jjariicularly,  yet, 
All  is  dissimulation  ;  they  are  but  hypocrites. 
And  while  a  mind  is  of  this  vein,  believe  me, 
the  most  blameless  track  of  life,  and  in  it  the 
the  very  best  action,  how  easy  is  it  to  invent 
a  sinister  sense  of  it,  and  blur  it ! 

But  oh  !  my  brethren,  be  not  so  foolish. 
Blunt  the  fiery  edge  off"  your  censures  on 
yourselves,  where  it  is  so  safe  and  advanta- 
geous to  be  thorough  and  home.  Just  the 
opposite  to  this,  judging  others  incurs  sharp 
judgment:  bui  judging  thyself  is  the  way 
not  to  be  judged.  1  Cor.  xi.  31.    For  if  wt 


430 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[PlIAF.  VT. 


vooujii  jvdse  oiirsrlves,  wc  s/iov/d  not  he 
juflffcil.  This  is  the  happy  and  ijainful  se- 
verity. Learn,  then,  to  loolv  upcm  others,  and 
all  their  ways,  with  the  liiiriiest  eharitv, 
which  Ihinkrth  no  evil,  is  witty  and  inventive 
o(  ijiHid  cimstructinns  upon  aiiyihinij  that 
may  clear  ihein,  as  malice  is  c)f  iniscensures 
of  the  hest  things.  Take  all  candidly  and 
mildly  hy  the  easiest  side,  the  ri<ilii  handle. 
And  for  thyself,  search  thy  heart  :  sift,  trv 
thy  best  actions,  find  out  "thy  own  earihli- 
ncss,  thy  pride  and  vanity,  thy  selfishness 
and  hypocrisy,  even  in  good.  A  self-search- 
insr  Christian  is  made  up  of  humility  and 
meekness.  If  thou  wouldst  find  much  peace 
and  favor  with  God  and  man,  he  very  low  in 
thine  own  eyes.  Forijive  thyself  little,  and 
others  much. 

Ver.  6.  Give  not  thni  which  t.t  holii  vnto  the. 
do'j:x.'^  The  former  rule  abates  the  sharp 
eye  of  rash  ind<rin?  :  this  quickens  and  clears 
the  eye  of  riirht  discerninsr:  that  was  for  the 
moderate  censurinsr  of  evil:  this  is  for  the 
prudent  impartinir  of  afood.  Be  ready  to  com- 
municate spiritual  ffood  to  all,  yet  so  as,  if 
men  do  evidence  themselves  to  be  as  doars 
and  swine,  to  have  thai  high  esteem  of  holy 
things,  as  not  to  prostitute  them  to  their  con- 
tempi  and  racre,  and  wrong  both  those  excel- 
lent thui^s  and  yourselves:  hat  they  tramjile 
them,  as  puddled  swine,  not  knowing  their 
worth,  and  turn  again,  and  rend  you,  as  en- 
raged dogs. 

Holy  things — pearls.  So  are  they  esteemed 
by  all  that  know  them  :  the  sweet  and  pre- 
cious promises  of  the  word,  the  excellent 
high  calling  of  a  Christian  :  and  their  price 
is  inestimable.  T/ie  pear/  of  trreat  price  is, 
Jesus  Christ,  revealed  in  the  o-ospcl.  Ob, 
learn  and  seek  after  high  esteeminrr  thoughts 
of  him  and  of  Divine  things.  Learn  to  be 
rich  in  ihose,  and  to  covet  them  indeed.  And 
though  imparting  them  to  others,  it  impairs 
them  not  to  yourselves,  and  therefore  you  are 
to  be  ready  and  free  that  way  :  yet,  because 
of  some  manifest  despisers  of  them,  learn 
this  wisdom  in  that  matter,  Give  not  holy 
things  to  dogs. 

There  is  an  imprudent  zeal,  and  sometimes 
a  mixture  of  an  irreverent  commonness,  in 
speaking  of  holy  things  indifll'erently  in  all 
companies.  Cenainly.  such  companv  wil- 
lingly ought  to  be  chosen,  as  give  most  liberal 
and  kind  entertainment  to  such  discourse. 
But  when  not  of  choice,  but  by  some  una- 
voidable entjagement,  we  fall  among  othei's, 
then  our  rule  ou^ht  to  be,  not  to  partake  of 
their  ungodly  ways  and  communication  :  but 
for  the  communicating,  in  another  way,  holy 
things  to  them,  this  must  be  well  advised  on, 
wlidiier  it  be  suitable  to  this  rule.  We  are 
not,  indeed,  to  sive  persons  easily  up  for  des- 
perate, as  dogs  or  swine  :  this  were  to  fall 
into  the  former  fault  of  rash  judging:  but 
where  they  are  evidently  such,  the  respect 
for  holy  things  is  to  he  preserved,  and  not  un- 
wisely to  be  exposed  to  their  derision. 


I  Much  n(>ed  is  there  of  a  spirit  of  wisdom 
in  this,  without  which  there  is  no  instructing 
by  rules,  so  as  to  guide  us  r.risjht  in  all  par- 
ticular occurrences  and  societies;  therefore 
we  are  to  beg  that  nnoinluig  that  tenches  us 
rill  lhiiiQ:s.  1  John  ii.  27.  S|)eak  willingly  to 
God,  hut  still  with  holy  fear  in  thyself,  and  it 
may  be  entertained  with  holy  fear  to  others. 

Ver.  7.  Ask,  and  it  shall  he  f>iren  t/ou  ' 
seek,  and  ye  shall  Jind  :  knock,  and  it  shall  be 
opened  unto  you.']    This  is  for  advantage  to 
all.    For  wisdom  to  follow  the  foregoing  and 
followinff  rules,  the  great  purveyor  of  a  Chris- 
tian, is  prayer,  and  the  great  qualifications  of 
prayer,  are  perseverance  and  fervency.  Ask 
— seek — knock  ;  he  earnest  and  importunate  ; 
give  not  over.    And  the  great  support,  the 
very  life  of  prayer,  that  which  quickens  and 
continues  it,  and  keeps  it  from  giving  over,  is 
'  faith,  a  firm  persuasion  of  audience  and  at- 
tainment.   This  is  here  ascertained  by  our 
Savior:  proved  by  irrefracable  argumeni. 
All  sood  is  promised  to  be  given,  and  that 
!  which  is  the  top  of  all,  the  chief  to  he  sought, 
the  Holy  Spirit,  is  promised  to  them  that  ask 
it,  as  St.  Luke  hath  it.    We  say  our  pra\t  ,s, 
and  there  is  an  end.  And  this  perfunctorious 
f  formality  creeps  even  upon  Christians  who 
i  are  unwary  and  slothful,  and  hence  so  little 
!  is  obtained.    Many  that  pray,  know  little  of 
this  Divine  art  of  prayer,  this  wrestling  with 
God,  this  resolving  not  to  let  him  go  until  he 
bless  them,  as  Jacob  did. 

Ver.  12.  Therefore,  all  things  whatsoever 
ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even 
so  to  them.]  This  is  added,  and  'seems  con- 
nected, but  it  is  another  rule  apart,  and  this 
'  great  rule  which  all  know  and  few  observe — 
in  equity,  in  charity,  meekness,  and  all  due 
respect.  Self,  self  undoes  all,  and  sets  the 
world  on  fire.  Though  it  be  a  separate  pre- 
cept, yet  it  may  have  some  aspect  to  the  for- 
mer respecting  prayer,  as,  if  you  would  have 
God  condescending,  and  favorable,  and  boun- 
tiful to  you,  be  so  to  men  :  and  so  you  shall 
be,  if  you  change  places  and  suppose  yourself 
in  their  room,  and  they  in  yours.  This  is  the 
law  and  the  prophets:  that  is,  all  is  of  this 
nature.  Duty  to  others,  as  pressed  in  the  law 
and  the  prophets,  is  reducible  to  this. 

Ver.  13.  Enter  ye  in  at  the  strait  gate.'] 
This  is  undeniably  a  main  point ;  yet,  alas  ! 
we  seem  not  to  think  so.  How  disinclined 
are  we  to  the  way  of  eternal  happiness  !  The 
difficulty  is  so  represented  as  to  add  an  edge 
to  our  earnestness,  not  to  abate  and  weaken 
our  endeavors.  This  way  is  strait  indeed,  but 
there  is  still  room  enough  within.  John  xiv. 
2.  In  my  Falher\'<  house  are  many  mansions. 
The  ease  and  delight  there,  shall  abundantly 
compensate  all  the  trouble  in  the  way.  We 
must  resolve  then,  if  we  would  not  perish, 
that  we  must  take  this  way,  how  strait  and 
ruggrd  soever,  and  strip  and  put  off  all  that 
entangles  and  encumbers — that  swellingpride, 
j  those  superfluous  desires  and  lusts:  yea,  to 
I  put  offaiid  leave  behind  even  self  itself  Once 


\"f.e..  15—28.] 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


431 


in  at  that  gate,  we  shall  find  all  perfectly  | 
compensated.    And  remember,  they  are  few  1 
*;hat  enter;  few  there  are  that  so  much  as  1 
seek  it,  but  far  fewer  thai  find  it,  even  of  those 
that  make  some  kind  of  seeking  after  it. 
Many  shall  seek  to  enter  (so  it  is  in  the  other 
evangelist),  and  shall  not  he  able  ;  therefore, 
strive  ye.    What  bustle  is  there  made  by  sea 
and  land  for  scraps  of  this  earth,  and  heaven 
alone  is  so  cheap  in  our  eyes,  as  if  it  were 
worth  no  diligence,  scarce  even  a  serious 
thought !  Surely,  either  heaven  is  but  a  fancy, 
or  the  world  is  mad  ? 

Ver.  15.  Beware  of  false  prophets.]  Not  to 
go  wrong  in  our  way,  we  must  take  heed  not 
to  mistake  our  guides  (especially  as  so  many 
in  all  ages  give  themselves  out  for  such),  that 
they  mislead  us  not,  wrapping  error  in  truth's 
mantle  :  yet,  there  i-o*  ever  something  to  a  dis- 
cerning eye,  that  will  readily  discover  them. 
As  for  thegrand  deceiver,  the  Devil,  the  vulgar 
fable,  that  in  all  apparitions  whatsoever  there 
is  siill  the  shape  of  a  cloven  foot,  holds  Tue, 
for  there  is  something  in  their  carriage  that, 
narrowly  eyed,  will  tell  what  they  are.  Ye 
shall  knoio  ihein  hy  their  fruits. 

Ver.  2\.  Not  every  one  that  saith  unto  me. 
Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.]  But  every  nian  is  his  own  worst 
deceiver  ;  therefore  he  ought  most  to  beware 
of  himself.  Whether  teacher  or  learner,  he 
is  his  own  false  prophet,  speaking  peace  where 
there  is  no  peace.  Therefore,  beware  of 
yourselves.  Delude  not  yourselves  with  a 
vain  trust  in  an  empty  profession.  Not  every 
one  thai  says.  Lord,  Lord — that  makes  much 
noise  and  sound  of  the  name  of  Christ,  yea, 
that  bears  his  name  to  others,  that  preaches 
him.  Oh  !  how  many  shall  find  themselves 
to  have  misreckoned  in  that  day,  when  they 
9'e  not  owned  by  him,  but  commanded  away 
by  that  sad  word  depart  !  Look  to  it,  there- 
fore, to  the  Iruih  of  denying  yourselves,  and 
your  own  will,  and  yielding  yourselves  up  to 
God  :  but  he  that  doelh  the  will  of  mi)  Father 
which  IS  in  heaven,  says  our  Savior.  Oh  I 
take  heed  of  found  inir  your  house  m  the  sand. 
Though  ever  so  stately  and  fair  built,  and 
showing  fine,  yet  that  foundation  will  be  its 
ruin.  There  is  no  safe  building  but  on  the 
rock,  that  rock  of  salvation  who  here  taught 
this  doctrine.  Then  come  storms  as  they  will, 
there  can  be  no  fear.  lie  that  bnildelh  on  htm 
shall  not  be  ashamed.  1  Peter  ii.  6.  No  mat- 
ter what  houses  or  lands  ye  have  here,  whe- 
therany  or  none — he  himself  had  none  here- 
provided  you  build  on  him  as  the  foutidaiion 
of  eternal  blessedness.  Oh,  that  men  would 
think  of  this,  and  amidst  all  their  ensuring  of 
things  still  unsure,  would  mind  the  making 
of  this  sure,  which  may  be  made  so  sure  for 
ever,  as  not  to  be  moved  ! 

Ver.  28.  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  Jesvs 
had  ended  these  sayings,  the  people  iverc  as- 
tonished at  his  doctrine'  A  divine  way  of 
teaching  !  Even  some  not  converted,  are  yet 
struck  and  astonished  with  it,  but  by  this 


eminently.  He  taught  them  as  one  having 
authority.  This  not  only  b\  a  powerful  se- 
cret influence,  on  hearts  which  he  touched  by 
his  Divine  power,  but  even  in  tiie  way  oi  nis 
own  teaching.  And  for  some  measure  of  this 
his  ministers  ought  lo  seek,  and  to  seek  it 
from  him,  if  they  would  find  it.  There  is  a 
force  in  things  spoken  from  the  heart  with 
holy  and  spiritual  affection  :  even  common 
things  thus  spoken,  are  far  above  the  greatest 
strains  and  notions,  that  are  only  an  harangue 
or  speech  framed  by  strength  oi' gifts  and  study. 
Oh  I  much  prayer  would  put  liie  and  authority 
into  what  we  speak.  To  be  much  on  the 
mount  with  God,  would  make  our  faces  shine 
when  coming  with  his  message  to  men. 


CHAPTER  VII 1. 

He  dwelt  among  us,  says  St.  John,  and  we 
saw  his  glory,  as  the  glory  of  the  onl  //-begotten 
Son  of  God,  full  of  grace  and  truth.  This 
all  his  history  testifies  of  him,  both  his  mar- 
vellous doctrine  foregoing,  and  his  miraculous 
works  that  bete  follow. 

Ver.  1.  W  hen  he  was  come  down  from  the 
mountain,  great  multitudes  followed  him.]  A 
thing  he  nowise  regarded,  yet  would  not  hin- 
der  ;  yea,  he  continued  teaching  and  working 
those  things  that  drew  them.  His  delight 
was  not  in  their  flocking  after  him,  but  in  in- 
structing and  doing  them  good. 

V^er.  2.  And.  behold,  there  came  a  leper  and 
v'orshipped  him.]  Whether  this  was  intended 
as  the  highest  kind  of  civil  reverence,  as  to  a 
prophet,  or  Divine  worshij),  as  to  God,  it  is 
not  easy  to  aver,  because  it  is  hard  to  deter- 
mine what  kind  of  persuasion  he,  and  the 
centurion,  and  others  now  coming  to  him,  had  ; 
how  Utile,  or  how  much,  or  if  any  apprehen- 
sion of  him  as  the  Messiah  and  Son  of  God. 
This  being  as  yet  not  much  noised  abroad, 
yet  they  might  have  it  bv  special  revelation 
from  God.  A  high  confidence,  however,  there 
was  of  a  Divine  power  being  with  him  for 
the  greatest  works.  This  is  clearly  express- 
ed ;  and  in  whatsoever  notion  it  was,  our 
Savior  takes  it  very  graciously,  and  grants 
their  suits.  We  are  commonly  unsatisfied 
with  all  that  comes  not  up  to  our  own  height  ; 
but  our  meek  Redeemer  cherishcth  sincerity, 
and  accepts  of  what  he  finds,  even  the  very 
least,  and  extols  it  to  the  highest  pitch  it  was 
capable  of 

Lord,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  canst  make  me  rlean.^ 
Strong  confidence  and  humility  are  crattm- 
jiered  in  ibis  word  :  confidence  in  asserting 
full  power  in  Christ  for  the  work  (the  doubt 
of  his  will  cannot  be  challenged  as  injurious 
or  unbelieving,  for  he  had  as  yet  no  warrant 
absolutely  to  believe  that  he  would)  ;  tiie 
humility  in  the  way  of  pro|)oun(liiig  it,  not 
daring  peremptorily  to  sue  for  it,  but  moving 
it  thus,  as  a  thing  in  his  hand  to  do  :  the  sense 
of  his  vile  disease  and  other  unworthiness,  it 


432 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[Chap.  VHl 


is  likely,  dcpressinff  him,  and  forming  his  | 
desire  in  this  style  only,  '-is  representing  and  j 
reservins;  the  matter  with  humiile  submission,  i 
as  rest  lved  not  to  quarrel  nor  complain  if  he 
should  rel'use,  hut  to  acknowk'd<;e  |iure  com- 
passion and  sjoodness,  if  obtained  :  (/.  d.  Lord, 
il  becomes  not  such  a  horrid,  polluted  wretch 
10  say  any  further  than  this,  I  believe,  and 
crave  leave  to  say  it  out,  if  llio\i  ivilt,  thou 
canst  7nake  me  clean. 

Ver.  3.  A/td  Jf'svs  put  forth  his  hand,  and 
touched  him.]  And  this  humble  motion  is  as 
graciously  taken:  he  hath  straif^hlway  real 
experience  both  of  the  power  that  be  believed 
in,  and  of  the  good-will  that  he  durst  not  think 
himself  so  sure  of,  yet  had  (no  doubt)  some 
good  hope  of.  Thou  sayest,  I  can  ?  I  say,  / 
will:  be  thou  clean.  And  the  touch  of  his 
hand  is  a  concurrent  sign  of  his  goodness  and 
condescension.  That  word  had  power  enough 
alone,  without  the  touch  ;  yet  it  goesnot  alone, 
lest  it  should  look  like  a  disdain  of  touching. 
He  is  pleased,  therefore,  to  put  his  pure  hand 
to  the  defiled  skin  of  this  leper,  being  in  no 
hazard  to  receive  pollution  by  that  touch  by 
which  the  leper  received  a  cleansing.  And 
thus  in  his  word  he  speaks  to  dinners,  where 
he  hath  revealed  his  will  together  with  his 
power  ;  and  that  we  may  doubt  it  not,  we 
may  read  it  in  his  blood  streaming  forth  for 
Dur  cleansing.  Yet,  if  any  one,  out  of  a  deep 
sense  of  liis  vileness,  think,  "  I  know  that  he 
can  cleanse  ine,  but  will  he  look  upon  such  a 
one  ?  Or,  if  he  look,  will  he  not  straight  turn 
away  ?  Will  he  vouchsafe  to  touch  my  filthy 
sores,  and  apply  his  own  precious  blood  for 
my  cleansing  and  healing?  Yes,  he  will." 
Speak  it  not  as  doubting,  but  as  humbly  re- 
ferring the  matter,  thou  mayest  even  in  the 
same  style,  say,  Lord,  "I  am  filthy  as  ever  any 
that  came  to  thee,  yet,  if  thou  wilt,  ihou  canst 
make  me  clean.''''  And  thou  shalt  find  that 
powerful  cure  from  a  word  of  his  mouth,  and 
a  touch  of  his  hand,  that  all  thy  scrubbing, 
and  washing,  and  bathing  in  legal  self-cleans- 
ings,  could  never  have  attained  ;  and  that  not 
only  as  to  the  guiltiness,  but  likewise  as  to  the 
power  and  polluting  filthiness  of  thy  sin.  And 
this  is  to  be  laid  before  him  in  the  prevailings 
of  lusts  and  sinful  impurities  :  "  Lord,  thou 
knowest  how  impossible  it  is  for  me,  and  I 
know  how  possible,  how  easy  it  is  for  thee, 
to  cleanse  me."  And  if  thou  shouldst  say  no 
more,  lie  before  him,  and  look  upward  till  he 
pity  thee.  If  he  be  not  changed  from  what 
he  was,  he  will  pity  thee,  and  thou  shalt 
find  it. 

Ver.  4.  And  Jesus  sailh  vntn  him.  See  that 
thou  tell  no  mr/n.]  This  charge  not  to  divulge 
the  cure,  besides  our  Lord's  exemj)lary  hu- 
mility in  avoiding  noise,  was  that  he  might 
wail  the  fitter  time  of  discovering  himself, 
and  because  as  yet,  it  might  rather  hinder 
him:  as  Mark  i.  45.  The  other  evangelists 
tell  us  that  the  man  kept  not  this  injunction, 
wherem,  though  he  was  to  be  blamed,  yet 
there  is  some  excuse  in  part,  from  the  ardent 


affection  and  overcoming  joy  that  he  could  not 
well  conceal.  Nor  are  we  sli;nj)ly  to  inveigh 
against  all  the  ini])eriinences  and  imprudences 
of  new  converts,  in  their  S|  eeches  and  car 
riage  in  reliffious  things,  thouirh  they  are  ti  ')e 
admonished  to  study  prudence.  It  is  no  won- 
der that  so  high  a  change  does  a  little  trans- 
port them  beyond  their  bounds  The  showins, 
to  the  ■priest,  and  ajfcrinff  oj  the  aift,  wa' 
both  a  respect  to  the  law,  not  as  ycjt  out  of 
date,  and  a  provision  for  a  testimony  for  Christ, 
when  it  should  be  afterward  known  that  he 
had  done  it.  This  may  be  the  meaning  of 
that  word,yor  a  testimony  to  them.  And  it 
is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  the  restraint  from 
publishing  it  to  others,  was  only  till  it  should 
be  first  shown  to  the  priest,  and  ajiproved  by 
him  as  full  cleanness,  which,  possibly,  other- 
wise, out  of  envy  to  Jesus  Christ,  they  might 
have  denied,  if  it  had  been  known  and  fahied 
abroad  as  his  work. 

Ver.  5-9.  And  ivhen  Jesvs  teas  entered 
into  Capernaum,  there  came  unto  him  a  cen- 
turion, beseeching  him.]  The  history  of  the 
centurion  hath  much  of  the  like  confidence 
and  lowliness.  He  desired  him  but  to  say 
the  word,  no  more  being  needful  for  the  thing 
to  be  done,  and  no  more  fit  to  be  desired  of 
him  who  is  addressed.  /  am  not  worthy  that 
ihnu  shouldst  come  under  my  roof.  They  that 
spake  for  him,  as  St.  Luke  hath  it,  said,  He 
was  worthy  for  lehorn  Jesus  should,  do  this. 
He,  of  a  far  different  mind,  sends  by  others 
what  is  here  related  as  his  own  speech  ;  they 
speaking  what  he  put  in  their  mouths,  that 
he  was  not  unworthy  of  Christ's  presence. 
His  confidence  of  power  in  Christ's  word  to 
do  the  deed,  he  expresses  by  the  resemblance 
of  his  own  command  over  his  soldiers.  He 
himself  being  but  one  under  others,  was  yet 
so  readily  obeyed  by  those  under  him;  and 
he  believed  all  diseases  to  be  much  more 
under  the  word  of  Jesus's  command.  So,  in- 
deed, they  know  his  word,  and  so,  also,  he 
rebukes  soul-diseases  and  they  are  gone,  as 
the  fever  in  the  next  history.  Oh  !  if' we  did 
but  believe  this  and  put  him  to  it !  For  fiaith 
doth  so,  and  in  a  manner  commands  him,  as 
he  doth  all  other  things. 

Ver.  10.  When  Jesus  heard  it,  he  marvel- 
led, and  said  unto  them  that  followed.  Verily, 
J  say  unto  you,  I  have  not  found  so  great 
faith,  no,  not  in  Israel.]  This  man  was  a 
stranger,  and  a  soldier,  yet,  it  seems,  a  pros- 
elyte ;  and  our  Lord,  receiving  this  as  a  kind 
of  first  fruits  of  the  Gentiles,  l()retells  upon  it 
a  plentiful  harvest  of  them :  Many  shall 
come,  and  the  children  of  the  kingdom  be  cast 
out.  Ver.  n.  This  is  a  harsh  word  to  the 
Jews  ;  and  yet,  thus  often,  the  most  remote 
and  unlikely,  who  have  long  lived  strangers 
to  religion,  have  proved  notable  converts: 
and  they  that  have  lived  from  their  child- 
hood under  a  powerful  ministry,  and  with  per- 
sons professing  religion,  and  have  themselves 
been  moulded  into  a  form  of  it,  yet  die  in  their 
sins,  and  never  lay  hold  of  that  salvation  un- 


/eb.  15— 17.  J 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


433 


o  which  they  always  seem  to  he.  so  near.  • 
And  this  near  miss  of  happiness  is  the  great- 1 
est  misery.  C/nldren  of  the  kingdom  in  out- 
ward appearance  and  church  privileges,  yet,  i 
prove  children  of  wrath,  not  onlv  not  enter-  i 
ing  .nio  the  kingdom  they  had  a  seeming  ti- 1 
tie  to,  but  cast  out  into  the  dungeon  of  utter  | 
darkness !  i 

Observe  the  misery  of  the  damned,  re- 
sembled by  utter  darkness,  void  of  light,  and 
full  of  hideous  noises  an-d  cries  :  weeping  and 
gnashing  of  teeth.  '  And  the  nappiness  of 
glory  is  resembled  to  a  banquet,  wiiere  there 
is  full  light  and  joy  ;  a  coronation  banquet, 
where  all  the  company  of  kings  stl  down  with 
Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom 
of  God.  And  this  and  all  other  resemblan- 
ces in  Scripture  are  bur  a  dark  shadow  of 
that  bright  glory.  Oh  !  were  the  things  of 
eternity,  the  misery  and  the  blessedness  to 
come,  indeed  believed,  how  much  would  our 
thoughts  be  in  them,  and  how  little  room 
would  they  leave  i'or  the  trifles  and  vanities 
that  our  hearts  are  taken  up  with  ! 

Ver.  11.  When  J'.suswas  come  into  Pefer''s 
house,  he  saw  his  wife\^  mother  laid,  and  sick 
of  a  fever.]  He  lakes  humble,  compassion- 
ate notice  of  all  maladies  where  he  comes, 
and  is  touched  with  the  griefs  of  his  own, 
and  so  moved  as  to  touch  and  heal  them. 
This  King's  touch  cures  all  sorts  of  diseases  : 
it  did  so  while  he  walked  in  a  low  despised 
condition  on  earth,  and  it  does  so  still  by  that  I 
virtual  Divine  power,  now  that  he  is  in  heav- 
en  ;  and  although  his  elory  there  is  greater, 
his  corn[)assioti  is  not  less  than  when  he  was 
here  ;  and  his  compassion  alwavs  was,  and 
is,  directed  much  more  to  souls  diseased,  than 
to  bodies,  as  they  are  better  and  more  valu- 
able. 

Ver.  15.  And  she  arose,  and  ministered 
unto  them.]  Oh  !  thus  it  should  still  be  ;  yea, 
thus  it  will  be.  They  whom  he  cures,  will 
bestow  upon  him  the  health  aud  strength 
they  have  received  by  him,  and  shall  be  ser- 
viceable to  him.  How  can  it  be  so  filly  and 
duly  employed  ?  Then  are  all  deliverances 
and  favors,  outward  and  inward  work,  most 
kindly  and  sweetly  enjoyed,  when  they  are 
most  quickly  and  cniireiy  returned  to  their 
sprmg,  all  improved  and' offered  up  to  him 
from  whom  they  come. 

Ver.  IG.  When  the  even  was  come,  they 
brought  unto  him  many  that  were  possessed^] 
Upon  the  report  of  these  works,  they  run  to 
him  in  great  numbers.  Oh,  that  upon  the 
report  of  his  all-healing  virtue  published  in 
the  gospel,  sick  souls  were  thronging  about 
him!  The  oth  ers  were  welcome,  but  ibese 
would  be  much  more  so.  Many  came  to 
him,  and  we  liear  of  none  who  were  turned 
away  wilboui  help.  Ife  cast  out  the  spirits 
with  his  word,  and  her/led  all  that  were  sick. 
Oh,  come  hither,  all  ye  that  have  anything 
that  troubles  you.  Is  ii  a  lethargic,  a  dead 
benumbness  of  spirit,  or  is  it  a  fever,  a  boil- 
ing of  passions  or  lusts,  yea,  is  it,  as  it  were. 


a  kind  of  possession  of  an  unclean  or  an  un- 
quiet spirit?  Come  forward:  here  is  help 
for  thee.  He  cured  those  here,  with  his  word. 
Now  that  word  of  the  prophet,  here  applied 
(ver.  17),  had  its  accomplishment  in  part, 
even  in  these  works  :  in  his  suffering  the  im- 
portunity of  the  multitudes  coming  early  and 
late,  and  suffering  likewise  the  maladies  he 
cured,  by  the  tender  compassion  he  felt  in  do- 
ing it.  He  is  not  a  hard-hearted,  insensible 
physician  :  no,  he  is  matchless  in  love  and 
tenderness,  feeling  as  it  were  their  pains  who 
came  to  him,  till  they  were  cured  ;  and  he 
still  does  feel  the  pains  and  groans  of  his 
own,  on  their  sick  beds.  And  yet,  all  this, 
his  curing  all  these  bodily  evils,  was  but  a 
pledge  of  the  higher  averring  and  fulfilling 
of  the  prophetical  word.  Our  first  disease 
struck  nearer  to  him  by  far,  than  those  that  he 
cured:  he  put  on  the  pain  of  all  our  trans- 
gressions, the  whole  weight  falling  at  once 
upon  his  back,  as  the  apostle  renders  it — hare 
our  sins  m  his  otvn  body  on  the  tree.  Now, 
of  that  wonderful  way  of  curing,  by  bearing 
and  transferring  over  upon  himself  our  spirit- 
ual maladies  and  miseries,  there  could  not 
be  a  fitter  prelude  and  foresign,  than  this  of 
healing  diseased  bodies.  Sickness  is  one  of 
the  bitter  and  chief  fruits  of  sin.  Next  to 
proper  spiritual  evils,  none  are  more  griev- 
ous, yea,  none  so  much.  It  sits  the  closest, 
and  tlie  sense  of  it  can  least  be  shifted.  Oth- 
er things  that  are  without  a  man,  are  capa- 
ble of  more  easy  diversion  ;  fancy,  or  reason, 
may  bear  off  much  ;  but  paining  sickness 
will  not  be  so  lightly  argued  out:  the  dem- 
onstrations are  very  sensible  and  conclusive. 

As  in  other  things,  so  it  is  here  ;  health, 
the  chief  of  temporal  blessings,  as  much  as 
anything-,  passes  unestecmed  and  unconsid- 
ered while  we  enjoy  it.  But  oh,  a  fit  of  sick- 
ness makes  it  sweet,  gives  it  the  highest  rec- 
ommendation :  the  groans  and  plaints  of  a 
sick  bed  are  the  most  powerful  rhetoric  to 
commend  health.  What  can  la  man  enjoy  of 
all  the  pleasures  and  pom];)  about  him,  when 
blasted  by  one  sharp  j)ain  seizing  upon  any 
part  of  liim  ?  Amidst  all  attendance  and 
i'urniiure,  he  thinks  the  |)oorest  scullion  in 
his  house,  that  is  in  health,  much  happier 
than  he  for  the  time.  Yet  this  we  think  not 
of,  while  we  eat  and  sleep,  and  have  tolera- 
ble health  :  consider  not  that  continued  mer- 
cy, how  great  it  is;  think  n(;t  on  the  differ- 
ence between  that,  and  loathing  of  all  food, 
weary,  restless  nights,  and  tossings  to  and 
fro  until  the  morning. 

Now  I  say,  this  considered,  the  goodntss 
and  power  of  Jesus  Christ  were  most  fiti;» 
manifesied  in  this  way,  as  introductive  to  the 
great  deliverance  from  sin  and  death,  he 
came  to  effect  for  us,  by  bearing  them  him- 
self, in  our  stead,  and  s(j  taking  them  away. 
And  so,  in  cures  afterward,  as  you  find  in  the 
next  chapter,  he  began  to  let  out  somewhat 
of  that,  as  the  main  :  Thy  sins  are  forgiven 
thee.    And  without  this,  what  is  health  iv 


A34 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERS 


[Chap.  VIII. 


self.  thou2;h  in  its  kiml  very  precious,  espc-  ' 
rialiy  wlu-u  so  speedily  and  easily  restored 
after  sickness  by  a  word  or  a  touch  ?  Yet, 
what  iiad  tiiis  been  but  a  little  reprieval, 
while  the  sentence  of  death,  yea.  eternal 
death,  was  still  standintf,  and  shortly  to  fall 
on?  Oh,  the  lifting  of  that  desperate  sink- 
ing burthen,  our  sins,  and  taking  them  upon 
himself  for  us  !  How  far  do  all  words,  and 
what  is  larger,  all  thoughts,  fall  short  oi'  the 
height  of  that  love  !  Oh,  boundless,  immense 
love  !  It  will  take  up  eternity  to  consider  it. 

Ver.  18.  Now  when  Jesus  saw  great  multi- 
tudes abnut  him,  he  gave  commandment  to  de- 
part unto  the  other  side.]  Other  reasons  may 
be  imaijnied  for  his  withdrawing  from  these, 
but  it  ap[)ears  that  his  work  now  lay  else- 
where, and  he  was  to  go  through  it.  And 
the  other  evangelists  are  express  in  this:  / 
must  preach  also  to  other  cities,  for  for  this 
came  J  forth.  He  had  much  work,  and  a 
short  time  to  perform  it  in  :  so  he  follows  it 
diligenily.  Thus  his  servants  ought  to  go  or 
stay.  indilTcrently,  for  all  places  and  services, 
as  they  are  called,  and  not  to  please  others 
and  themselves,  but  him  who  sends  them. 

Ver.  19,  20.  And  a  certain  scribe  came,  and 
vaid  unto  him.  Master,  I  will  follow  thee 
whithersoever  thou  goesl.  And  Jesus  sailh 
unto  him,  Fores  have  holes,  &c.]  Strange  ! 
Our  Savior  seems  to  turn  off  the  very  ready 
and  full  offer  of  one,  and  to  put  forward  an- 
other who  drew  back.  He  is,  indeed,  abso- 
lutely free  in  his  choice,  and  may  without 
control  do  this,  let  pass  high  temporary  fits 
and  offers,  and  lay  iiold  on  what  hath  far  less 
appearance.  And  the  truth  is,  he  is  privy  to 
the  secret  actions  of  men's  hearts,  and  can 
discern  in  some  of  a  very  plausible  zeal  and 
forwardness,  some  false  principles  within, 
■whence  it  is  kindled  ;  and  in  others  more 
slow  and  inactive,  sees  under  that  more  sin- 
cerity at  the  bottom.  This  scribe,  possibly, 
taken  with  the  splendor  of  Christ's  miracles, 
and  the  flocking  of  multitudes  unto  him,  per- 
ceived not  his  present  poverty  and  meanness, 
and  after  disgraces  and  sufferings.  Many 
make  lavish  offers  to  religion  at  a  time  when 
it  is  in  request,  or  possibly  upon  some  dis- 
cernment of  its  own  worth  and  beauty,  but  do 
not  count  the  cost  ;  consider  not  the  enmity 
of  the  world,  the  outward  meanness,  the  re- 
proaching and  despisings  that  usually  attend 
it.  Jt  is  indeed  by  far  the  best  bargain  with 
all  those  who  count  the  cost,  if  men  would 
understand  it  right,  and  think  it  so  ere  they 
engage  in  it. 

Now  we  see  what  condition  Christ,  who 
was  Lord  of  all,  chose  for  our  sakes,  amid  his 
own  to  live  as  a  stranger,  having  no  property, 
not  so  much  as  the  beasts  and  the  birds.  lie 
became  poor  to  make  vs  rich,  2  Cor.  viii.  9  ; 
not  rich  in  those  thinirs  he  was  poor  in,  but 
•.n  things  infinitely  better.  In  that  he  calls 
his  followers,  most  ctjmmonly,  to  a  conformi- 
ty with  himself:  he  forbids  not,  indeed,  prop- 
erty and  possessions,  but  surely  we  should 


learn  amid  all  to  walk,  in  affection  at  least, 
like  him,  as  strangers  here,  not  glued  to  any- 
thing, using  the  world  as  though  u-e  used  tt 
not.  And  ttiey  who  are  really  thus  as  he  was, 
oh,  what  comfort  have  they  in  this  !  How  is 
it  sweetened  to  them,  if  in  that  condition  they 
indeed  I'ollow  him  !  Hast  thou  no  dwelling 
of  thy  own,  no  possession,  and  little  for  pres- 
ent supply  ?  Look  up  to  him  who  passed 
through  here  in  that  very  same  way,  and 
cleave  the  closer  to  him  :  so  much  the  more 
eye  him  as  thy  riches  and  portion,  and  thou 
needst  not  envy  kings  in  their  best  days.  And 
whatsoever  be  thy  estate,  how  soon  shall  it 
be  past  !  And  all  that  live,  have  much  a 
like  space  of  earth  to  lie  down  in  at  last.  But 
oh,  the  rich  inheritance  above,  for  all  that  lay 
hold  on  it,  and  fullow  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
by  the  way  ! 

Ver.  21.  Lord,  suffer  me  first  to  go  and 
bury  my  father.]  Now  the  other  craves  a  de- 
lay. And  a  world  of  such  excuses  there  are. 
They  that  will  not, give  Christ  a.  absolute 
refusal,  yet  have  somewhat  first  tt  be  done. 
This  match,  or  bargain,  or  purchase,  or  at 
least  a  time  civilly  to  take  farewell  ofl'riends; 
and  thus  the  most  shift  it  off.  But  as  to  those 
whom  he  resolves  to  have,  he  will  not  take 
their  refusal.  J^et  the  dead,  says  he,  bury 
their  dead.  There  are  enough  of  com- 
mon persons,  who  have  no  share  of  life  in 
me,  they  may  do  that ;  Follow  thou  me.  Oh  ! 
happy  they  whom  he  will  not  loose  ;  whom 
he  powerfully,  yet  sweetly  constrains  to  break 
from  all  and  follow  him  !  Sure  I  am,  it  shall 
never  repent  them. 

Ver.  23-27.  And  being  entered  into  a  ship, 
there  arose  a  great  tempest.]  Still  new  occa- 
sions, and  accordingly  new  evidence  of  the 
Divine  power  of  Jesus  Christ.  Ujion  the  ship 
wherein  he  is,  there  may,  and  usually  does 
arise  a  storm  ;  yet,  happy  is  it  to  be  embark- 
ed with  him  upon  all  hazards!  His  ship  may 
be  tost,  but  perish  it  can  not.  His  counsels 
are  deep  and  wise,  and  we  can  not  find  them 
out.  He  knows  what  he  is  about  to  do,  when 
we  can  least  understand  him.  When  we  think 
that  he  leads  out  his  people  to  be  swallowed 
up  in  the  sea,  or  destroyed  in  the  wilderness, 
he  is  only  raising  a  mount  for  himself  to  be 
seen  on,  and  bringing  them  into  the  view  of 
dangers,  yea,  of  apparent  ruin,  to  be  more 
glorious  in  their  deliverance.  His  way  is  in 
the  deep,  and  his  footsteps  are  not  known. 
Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God  ?  says 
he  in  Job.  Which  is  not,  I  conceive,  so  much 
meant  of  his  essence,  as  of  his  operations  and 
ways,  which  are  so  profound  and  untraceable. 
We.  are  at  a  stand  often  to  think  what  he 
means  to  do  ;  whether  he  has  given  up  his 
church  and  cause  to  the  winds  and  waves, 
when  his  enemies  rage  and  roar,  and  he  is 
silent,  as  ii'  he  cared  not  what  became  of 
all.  The  seas  swell,  the  ship  is  tost,  and  he 
sleeps. 

Not  to  speak  here  of  Christ  putting  on  our 
natural  frailties,  or  of  this  sleep,  whether  i' 


Vzn.  23—27.] 


OF  ST.  Matthews  gospel. 


435 


was  natural  or  voluntary  ;  it  might  be  and 
likely  was  both:  wearied  with  the  concourse 
ol  the  multitude  on  the  land,  he  fails  asleep 
in  the  ship;  yet,  doubtless,  he  had  the  com- 
mand of  tiiose  natural  inclinations  in  himself, 
and  chooses  now  to  sleep,  to  increase  the  ap- 
pearance  of  the  danger,  and  add  horror  to  the 
visase  of  it.  So  no  doubt  it  did  ;  not  all  the 
blusiering  of  the  winds,  nor  the  rising  of  the 
waves,  was  so  frightful  and  sad  to  the  disci- 
ples, as  that  their  Master  slept  so  sound  in 
the  midst  of  them  ;  so  sound  as  if  rocked 
asleep  by  them,  and  either  wholly  insensible, 
or  very  regardless  of  their  danger  :  as  St.  Luke 
expresses  their  feelings,  Cnrest  thou  not  that 
tve  perish  ?  Now,  in  this  man  who  slept, 
dwelt  God  who  sleeps  not,  the  Watchman  of 
Israel,  who  does  not  so  much  as  slumber.  But 
they,  either  not  so  clearly  understanding,  or, 
in  the  fright,  not  so  duly  remembering  and 
considering  this,  were  eying  only  the  posture 
wherein  he  was  visible  to  them  ;  therefore, 
the  sounder  he  slept,  it  awaked  and  increased 
their  fear  the  more.  And  as  Jesus  Christ  here 
really  did,  even  so  God  seems  sometimes  to 
his  own  to  do  :  and  they  express  it  so.  Thus 
the  Psalmist :  Awake,  arise,  ichy  sleekest  thou, 
O  Lord  ?  This  he  seems  to  do,  when  the  un- 
godly prosper,  and  when  his  people  lie  trod- 
den iinder  foot,  and  he  seems  to  take  no  no- 
tice of  their  pressure,  nor  stirs  for  their  deliv- 
erance. And  this  is  the  saddest  part  of  their 
affliction  ;  they  have  no  hope  nor  stay,  but  in 
the  favor  and  protection  of  their  God:  now 
w'len  that  is  retired,  and  ttie  curtain  drawn, 
and  !ie  asleep,  their  prayers  not  heard,  and 
no  afipi^a ranee  of  his  help,  I  say  it  is  a  grand 
trial  of  fiith,  which  shakes  and  disquiets  more 
than  all  oilier  things,  how  terrible  soever.  No 
rage  or  noise  if  the  enemy  is  so  grievous  as 
the  silence  and  slccpinir  of  God.  Thus,  in  a 
soul,  when  lusts  and  temptations  are  swelling 
and  raging,  and  God  is  retired,  and  as  asleep 
to  it,  says  nothing,  controls  them  not,  but  suf- 
fers them  to  take  their  course  :  this  is  that 
which  breeds  the  highest  anguish,  and  brings 
a  soul  to  the  mouth  of  ihe  pit,  to  the  brink 
of  desperation.  Then  it  is  forced  to  cry  for  a 
word  from  his  mouth  :  Lord  Jesus,  speak  but 
a  word  ;  keep  not  silence  to  me,  or  I  am  un- 
done :  there  is  no  recovery  for  me  ;  if  thou 
keep  silence,  [  am  dead  :  /  shall  he  like  them 
that  <ro  down  to  the  pit;  or,  as  it  is  here,  Save, 
Master,  or  we  perish. 

And  this  is  one  main  end  for  which  he  does 
sleep,  to  awake  us,  to  rouse  and  stir  our  pray- 
ers, which  commonly  arc,  in  times  of  ease, 
vy,  drowsy,  lifeless  things,  as  a  man's 
ech  in  sleep,  dreaming,  incoherent,  sense- 
stuff.    This  they  may  be  to  God,  who 
kens  to  what  the  heart  says  in  them, 
gh,  to  man's  ears,  the  wdrds  may  be  fit 
good  sense.    But  by  the  straining  of  a 
p  affliction,  or  near  pressing  danger,  the 
IS  awaked  and  speaks  itself    Such  a 
.d  seems  to  sf)und  in  its  ears,  as  that  of 
»  mariners  to  Jonah,  Arise,  thou  slufr<rard, 


\  and  call  upon  thy  God.    Men  Jo  but  trifle  in 
fair  weather,  but  in  the  storm  they  are  more 
in  earnest.    Especially,  a  soul  acquainted 
with  God,  that  follows  and  relies  upon  him, 
will  take  tliis  course,  and  no  other  :  it  runs 
1  straight  to  him,"  and  if  he  be  asleep,  awakes 
I  him.    And  in  this  they  are  to  be  approved 
!  and  commended,  that,  as  here,  their  course  is 
to  Jesus  Christ,  as  confident  of  his  power  and 
willingness  to  deliver  them.    This  the  disci- 
pies  did  believe  ;  otherwise  they  had  not  left 
working  for  themselves,  to  go  to  awake  him. 

Yet  was  there,  with  their  faith,  a  mixture 
of  distempered,  distrustful  fear,  which  Jesus 
1  well  knew,  and  which  he  would  not  other- 
'  wise  have  charged  them  with.  He  doth  not 
altogether  deny  that  there  was  faith  in  them, 
but  checks  the  deficiency  of  it :  O  ye  of  little 
'  faith,  why  did  ye  doubt  ?  Apprehend  danger 
and  fear  they  might  ;  yea,  if  they  had  not, 
they  would  not  have  come  to  Christ  in  that 
manner.  Without  a  living  sense  of  distress 
or  danger,  there  can  be  neither  faith  nor  pray- 
er. These  are  stirred  up  and  raised  to  act, 
i  by  the  knowledge  and  feeling  of  our  need  of 
help.  But  the  misery  is,  we  scarcely  in  any- 
thing know  our  bounds:  our  passions  raised, 
do  usually  overflow  and  pass  the  banks.  A 
little  fear  does  but  awake  faith,  but  much 
fear  weakens  it,  and  in  the  awakening  gives 
it  too  srreat  a  blow,  such  a  one  as  astonishes 
it,  and  makes  it  stagger.  That  they  were 
!  afraid,  was  tolerable  ;  but  their  hearts,  it 
seems,  were  not  so  established  in  the  persua- 
sion of  Christ's  Divine  power  and  careof  them, 
as  became  them  :  and  this  he  plainly,  yet  gen- 
tly, checks.  And  there  is  this  alloy  of  distrust 
j  in  believing,  not  only  in  the  weaker,  but  even 
1  in  the  strongest  Christian  ;  and  there  is  a 
continual  wrestling  between  them  ;  some- 
times the  one  is  uppermost,  and  sometimes 
the  other:  but  faith,  in  the  end,  shall  have 
the  victory.  See  what  s'range  dilTereiice 
there  was  between  Job  and  Job  :  would  one 
think  it  were  the  same  person  ? — one  while 
cursing  his  birth,  and  wishing  for  death,  and 
yel,  afterward  declaring,  Though  he  slay  me, 
yet  will  I  trust  in  him.  And  again,  afterwai;^, 
complaining.  Wherefore  htdesl  thou  thy  face, 
and  holdest  me  for  thy  enemy?  And  yet  anon, 
again,  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  lirelh.  This 
]  they  should  think  of,  who  doubt  because  they 
doubt,  and  miilti[)ly  distrust  upon  itself,  con- 
cluding that  they  have  no  faith,  because  they 
find  so  much  and  so  frequent  doubting  with- 
in them.  But  this  is  a  great  mistake.  Some 
doublings  there  may  he,  where  there  is  even 
much  faith  :  and  a  little  faith  there  may  be, 
where  there  is  much  doubting.  But,  upon 
this  account,  is  doubting  by  any  means  to  be 
entertained  or  favored  ?  Yea,  it  is  to  be  hated 
and  opjiosed  with  all  our  strength,  and  the 
strength  of  God  must  be  implored  to  over- 
come  it,  as  the  grand  enemy  of  our  peace, 
and  his  glory.  By  all  means  is  faith  to  be 
cherished,  and  distrust  to  be  checked.  Our 
Savior  pardons  it  in  his  disciples,  yet  he 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHAPTERi 


[Chap.  IX. 


blaiiipj  n.  He  refuses  not  his  liclp,  yet  he 
blames  their  unbelief.  O  ye  of  liHle  fniLh  I 
He  retjuires,  and  delights  in  a  strong,  firm  be- 
lieving on  him,  ihough  the  least  and  weakest 
he  rejects  not. 

Having  first  rebuked  their  fear,  he  rebukes 
the  storm  that  caused  it,  ana  makes  a  calm, 
a  great  calm.  No  wonder  tliat  they  wondered 
at  it:  though  they  had  seen  many  of  his 
works,  and  were  now  expecting  somewhat 
of  this  from  him,  yet  it  surpasses  their  ex- 
peciatiun,  and  strikes  them  inio  admiration, 
to  see  a  man,  a  man  subject  to  weariness  and 
sleep,  and  yet  that  man  awakins;  to  still  the 
wmd  and  seas  with  the  word  of  his  mouth. 
Oh  !  the  greatness  of  the  Lord  whom  we 
serve,  the  sovereign  of  sea  and  land,  com- 
manding all  with  a  word,  desperate  diseases, 
blasting  winds,  raging  seas,  and  tormenting 
devils  ! 

And  there  was  a  great  calm.  This  often 
happens  in  his  church  after  such  storms  as 
threatened  shipwreck.  And  so  in  a  soul, 
when  all  wiihin  (and  these  are  the  worst 
storms)  is  full  of  confusion  and  noises,  the 
heart  working  like  a  troubled  sea,  and  findin? 
no  rest  neither  from  its  own  persuasions,  nor 
the  skilfullest  speeches  of  others,  but,  amid 
all,  likely  to  be  swallowed  up  or  split  in 
pieces  ;  then,  then,  one  word  from  Christ's 
mouth  quiets  all  presently,  and  makes  the 
soul  calmer  and  smoother  than  the  stillest 
water  in  the  fairest  day.  Oh,  what  wonder 
and  love  will  possess  the  soul  that  hath  found 
any  such  thing  I 

Ver.  2S-34.  And  when  he  was  come  to  the 
other  side,  into  the  country  of  the  Ger^csenes, 
there  met  him  two  possessed  with  devils.}  The 
following  history  hath  many  things  of  very 
useful  remark  :  but  those  things  offer  them- 
selves to  all  that  read  it.  We  may  see  the 
great  malice  of  Saian,  and  the  ffreat  power 
and  goodness  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  great 
baseness  and  brutishness  of  ihe  men  of  this 
place,  here  spoken  of.  Satan's  malice  appears 
in  the  men  possessed,  carry inaf  them  to  run  wild 
among  tombs,  and  to  commit  ouira<re  upon 
them  who  passed  by.  and  then,  apprehending 
their  dispossession  thence,  to  desire  to  go  into 
the  swine  of  that  place,  and  destroyin?  them, 
which  was  their  design  upon  the  men,  as  the 
event  proved.  He  who  had  the  power,  and 
graciously  used  it,  to  cast  them  out  of  the 
possessed  men,  was  not  tied  to  their  suit  as  a 
point  of  capitulation.  He  could  have  cast 
them  quite  out  of  their  coasts,  and  sent  them 
back  immediately  to  their  own  prison  ;  but  in 
Divine  wisdom  and  justice,  he  grants  their 
suit,  knowing  well  what  use  they  would 
make  of  it,  and  what  would  follow.' 

But  oh  I  the  Gadarenes  themselves  were 
the  swine,  viler  than  those  the  devils  entered 
and  drowned  ;  yea,  they  were  worse  pos- 
sessed than  the  swine,  and  drowned  in  a 
more  fearful  deep,  by  the  craft  of  those  dev- 
ils. And  that  was  their  plot.  The  "devils, 
knowing  how  fast  the  hearts  of  the  owners 


were  linked  to  their  swine,  thought  it  likely 
that  the  swine  being  drowned,  they  would 
follow,  would  drown  themselves  in  the  re 
jecting  of  Jesus  Christ.  And  they  did  so. 
How  many  who  read  or  hear  this  with  in- 
dignation, yet,  possibly,  do  little  better  in 
their  hearts— cleaving  to  their  herds,  or  oth- 
er goods,  gains,  or  pleasures,  or  anythmg  of 
this  earth,  and  in  the  love  of  these,  refusing 
Jesus  Christ  !  Think  it  not  a  harsh  word, 
but  take  heed  that  ye  be  not  such  ;  for  of 
the  multitudes  to  whom  Christ  is  offered, 
there  are  very  few  w  hose  hearts  do  really 
o))en  to  him,  and  receive  him.  But  oh,  hap- 
py they  that  do  !  This  was  the  clearest  in- 
stance of  perfect  misery,  and  yet,  they  were 
scarcely  at  aU  to  be  pitied,  being  the  choosers 
and  devisers  .f  it  themselves:  ihey  besought 
Jesus  to  depart,  that  is,  besought  life  and 
blessedness  to  go  from  them.  And  what 
does  a  sinner,  when  he  turns  out  and  rejects 
motions  and  inspirations  of  holiness,  lest  his 
lusts  and  pleasures  of  sin  should  be  lost,  but 
dismiss  Jesus,  lest  the  swine  should  be 
drowned  ? 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Ver.  1.  And  he  entered  into  a  ship,  and  passed  over, 
and  came  into  his  own  city. 

He  who  measures  the  waters  in  the  hollow 
of  his  hand,  and  commands  them  (as  ch.  v. 
26),  is  ferried  over  in  some  boat  or  small  ves- 
sel. And  was  it  not  richly  laden  with  tins  in- 
estimable pearl,  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom 
and  knowlf'dse,  all  fulness  dwelling  in  him? 
All  the  rich  ships  from  both  the  Indies,  were 
not  to  be  compared  to  this. 

Ver.  2.  And  behold,  they  brought  io  him  a 
man  sick  of  the  palsy.]  The  other  evange- 
lists tell  with  what  difficulty  they  did  so, 
and  how  they  overcame  that  difficulty  with 
resolution  and  industry,  which  indeed  over- 
come all.  A  strong  bent  toward  Jesus  Christ 
will  not  be  hindered.  Nor  is  their  violence 
in  uncovering  the  house,  or  their  rudeness  in 
interrupting  his  discourse,  rejected  or  jeprov- 
ed,  but  all  is  accepted  for  the  principle, /oi/^, 
which  was  tempered  with  love  to  the  sick, 
and  even  to  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  person  from 
whom  they  expected  the  cure. 

And  Jesvs  seeing  their  faith.]  It  is  need- 
less to  dispute  that  one  may  be  benefited  by 
the  influence  of  another's  faith.  Surely,  much 
may  be  done  by  it.  Thus,  it  may  bring  and 
present  a  person,  may  recommend,  may  pray 
for  him,  and  may  be  respected  in  the  grant 
of  mercy,  not  only  in  temporals,  but  in  spir- 
ituals. But  yet,  t  lie  just  lives  only  by  bis  own 
faith,  which  no  doubt  this  poor  man  had. 
For  the  word,  theirs,  excludes  not,  but  rath- 
er includes  the  sick  man's,  who  no  doubt 
consented  to  this  course  in  the  same  confi- 
dence. But  yet,  it  is  good  to  be  in  believ- 
ing people's  company.    Another  person,  a 


Ver.  2—4.] 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


43 


family,  a  city,  a  society,  may  fare  the  better 
for  the  faith  of  an  individual.  Often,  gne 
who  prays  in  a  family,  averts  judjjments,  and 
draws  down  blessings  upon  the  whole. 

— Said  unto  the  sick  of  the  palsy.  Son,  be 
of  good  cheer,  thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee  J] 
This,  though  not  appearing  to  be  the  errand, 
was  yet  the  most  important  part  of  the  cure, 
the  root  of  blessings  and  blessedness,  remov- 
ing the  root  of  all  care  and  misery.  Wheth- 
er the  siciv  man  did  most  of  all,  or  did  at  all 
desire,  or  expect  this  at  the  hands  of  Jesus 
Christ,  we  can  not  tell;  but  if  he  thousjht 
not  of  it  (and  we  sec  no  other),  oh,  what  a 
surprise  of  love  !  It  is  good,  coming  to  Je- 
sus on  any  terms,  on  any  errand.  Some 
come,  driven  by  outward  afflictions,  and  yet 
return  delivered  from  sin  and  eternal  death. 
In  this  respect,  there  is  great  variety  in  this 
matter  of  declaring  a  pardon.  Some  seek  and 
knock,  and  wait  long,  and  hear  it  not.  Oth- 
ers are  prevented,  who  scarcely  sought  it, 
but  Christ's  first  word  to  them  is  this.  But  all 
is  one  as  to  the  main  :  they  who  seek  it  with 
sorrow,  shall  be  sure  to  find  it  with  joy  ;  and 
they  who  first  find  it  without  previous  sorrow, 
shall  yet  be  sure  to  find  that  sorrow  for  sin, 
in  some  measure,  likewise,  after  pardon,  if 
not  before.  And  truly  it  seems  sweetest  and 
kindliest,  when  mercy  melts  the  heart.  But 
well  may  he  say,  be  of  good  courage,  who 
could  add  thrj  sins  be  for  <j;iven  thee.  Oh  ! 
what  can  dismay  after  . this?  The  heart, 
wholly  filled  with  divine  peace  and  love, 
bears  up  all,  and  sorrow  is  turned  into  joy 
before  a  soul  thus  assured.  Jesus  knew  well, 
that  the  healmg  of  his  palsy,  without  this 
pardon,  had  been  but  a  lame  cure,  onlv  the 
naif  and  the  far  less,  tlie  meaner  half  This 
was  the  main  business  that  broucrht  him 
down  from  heaven  to  be  a  man,  and  to  dwell 
among  men,  and  that  made  him  die  for  man  ; 
that  which  nailed  him  to  the  cross,  and 
drew  forth  his  heart's  blood  :  it  was  for  the 
remission  of  the  sins  of  many.  These  cures 
of  bodily  diseases,  though  clear  demonstra- 
tions of  Christ's  Divine  power  and  goodness, 
were  but  a  transient  ajjpendage  and  symbol 
of  that  mainly  intended  and  highest  mercy, 
theforgtveni'ss  of  sins. 

The  sentence  of  eternal  death  standing  in 
full  force  above  the  head  of  an  unpardoned 
sinner,  if  it  were  lively  ap])rehen(led,  oh  I 
what  a  paralytic  trembling  would  it  strike 
the  soul  into,  causing  the  joints  of  it  to  shake 
and  smite  one  upon  another,  in  the  midst  of 
its  fullest  health  and  mirth,  as  the  hand-wri- 
ting on  the  wall  did  that  drunken  king  Bel- 
shazzer.  But  we  know  not  what  sin  is,  though 
we  hear  and  speak  of  it,  and  sometimes  con- 
less  it  ;  and  therefore  our  hearts  leap  not  at 
the  report  of  a  pardon,  though  we  hear  of 
it,  and  usually  entreat  it.  Any  of  you,  when 
complaining  that  you  are  robbed,  or  sjjoiled 
of  your  goods,  would  scarcely  think  it  to  the 
purpose  were  I  to  tell  you,  your  sms  are  par- 
doned.   But  oh  !  how  fi'.  a  word  it  is  to  an- 


swer  and  drown  all  griefs  ;  so  pertinent  that 
nothing  besides  it  is  so!  And  happy  that 
soul  that  hears  it  from  his  mouth  who  gives 
it,  and  who  alone  can  ascertain  it.  This  is 
the  answer  that  will  satisfy.  If  tliou  sayest, 
"  I  am  diseased  :"  ay,  but  thy  sin  is  pardon- 
ed. "  I  am  poor  :"  ay,  but  thy  sin  is  par- 
doned. And  surely,  a  soul  that  heeds  it  right, 
will  be  quieted,  and  will  be  bold,  of  ^ood 
courage,  as  the  word  here  is,  and  will  embrace 
allotherburdens,  and  go  light  under  them  ;  will 
say,  "  Lord,  now  let  me  live,  or  let  me  die,  let 
me  abound  or  want,  let  me  be  healthy  or 
sick,  take  away  what  thou  wilt,  or  lay  on 
what  thou  wilt,  all  is  well  ;  thou  hast  par- 
doned my  sin." 

Ver.  3.  And  behold  certain  of  the  scribes 
said  within  ihemselx^es.  This  man  hlasphe- 
rnefh.]  Supposing  Jesus  but  a  man,  yet, 
there  was  no  necessity  for  this  construction. 
He  w^as  a  holy  man,  a  singular,  extraordina- 
ry man,  doing  unparalleled  miracles  ;  and  he 
said  not,  I  forgive  ''m  sins,  but  Thy  sins  are 
forgiven  thee  ;  which  was  a  word  not  beyond 
the  capacity  of  a  prophetical  power  to  say  it 
declaratively.  And  though  there  was  an  air 
of  authority,  might  they  not  have  thought. 
This  may  be  the  Messiah,  who  they  knew 
was  to  come,  and  was  to  be  the  Son  of  Ood, 
and  to  bring  remission  of  sins  along  with  him  ? 
But  that  base  spirit,  the  spirit  of  envy,  with 
which  they  were  filled,  willingly  rejects  ail 
better  sort  of  constructions,  and  fastens  on 
the  absolutely  worst  it  can  invent.  To  an 
eye  that  looks  through  the  dark  glass  of  pre- 
judice and  malice,  all  is  discolored.  Yet 
they  are  struck  with  so  much  awe,  that  they 
dare  not  speak  it  out.  That  which  struck 
them  was,  they  were  obscured  by  his  brisrht- 
ness.     They  were  animalia  glorur,  as  one 

j  calls  the  philosophers,  and  could  not  endure 
to  go  less  in  the  opinion  they  had  gained  :  a 

I  sore  mischief,  and  one  much  attaching  to 

1  known  and  venerable  possession.    Genus  ir- 

[  ritabile  vatum. 

I  But  a  spirit  devoted  to  him  whose  due  all 
I  glory  is,  willingly  resigns  it  to  him,  in  what 
;  way  he  will.  Let  wlioso  will  be  best  or  chief, 
so  that  still  he  be  chief  of  all,  and  glorified  in 
all.  The  holy  Baptist  had  another  spirit 
than  these  rabbles  :  he  told  it  freely  and  glad- 
ly, lie  must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease.  It 
was  his  end,  as  the  morning  star  is  willingly 
drowned  in  the  brightness  of  the  rising  sun. 

Ver.  4.  And  Jesvsknotving  their  thoughts.  \ 
This,  without  anything  further,  was  clearly 
enough  to  demonstrate  his  Divine  power. 
Oh  !  that  this  was  ever  in  our  thoughts,  that 
all  our  thousjhls  are  under  his  eye!  If  they 
were  so,  and  we  know  them  to  be  so,  to 
some  grave,  wise  man,  how  wary,  and  choice 
should  we  be  ol'tlietii?  And  shall  we  have 
less  rei'-ard  lo  the  luiliest  and  wisest  Lord,  to 
j  whom  they  are  all  naked  and  open  ? 

Wherefore  think  ye  eril  in  your  hearts?] 
There  was  no  reason  in  the  thing,  but  tlx 
reason  was,  their  hearts  were  evil,  and  ihei 


438 


LECTURES  ON  THE  FIRST  NINE  CHArTERS 


[CuAt.  fA 


emissions  like  tlioinselves.  An  evil  heart  is 
an  incessant  f'oige  of  evil  thoughts.  It  is  a 
corrupt  spring  siill  issuing  forth,  and  till  ii 
be  renewed,  it  can  not  find  any  oilier.  From 
the  heart  come  evil  lhou>ihts:  that  is  in  the 
front  of  all  the  hlack  train  that  comes  ibrlh 
of  the  heart,  as  our  Savior  teaches,  Malt.  xv. 
19.  The>e  are  the  seeds  of  all  the  wicked- 
ne-s  that  fills  the  world.  Chief  reirard,  there- 
fore, is  to  be  had  to  the  heart.  An  excellent 
advice  that  of  Solomon,  Keep  thy  heart  ivith 
iiV.  diligence.  To  amend  some  evil  customs, 
without  the  renewing  of  the  heart,  is  but  to 
lop  the  branches  ihat^will  grow  again,  or 
others  in  their  stead  ;  but  a  holy  heart  medi- 
tates on  holy  things,  is  still  in  heaven,  is  all 
reverence  toward  God,  and  meekness  and 
charity  to  men. 

Ver.  5.  Whether  it  is  easier  to  say,  Thy 
sins  he  fon^ti'en  thee,  or  lo  sai/,  Arise  and 
ii'a/k  ?]  Though  the  remission  of  sins  flows 
originally  from  the  same  power,  and  so  is 
equal,  and  in  its  own  place  hath  the  prefer- 
ence, being  by  far  the  greater  mercy,  yet  the 
other  of  bodily  cure  runs  into  the  senses,  and 
so  both  is  more  evident  to  the  beholders,  and 
affects  them  more.  The  other  word  might 
be  spoken  with  less  control,  the  efficacy  or 
inefficacy  of  it  not  falling  under  the  cognition 
of  them  that  heard  it;  but  this  of  healing  the 
palsy,  would  either  be  attested  or  denied  in 
the  effect. 

Ver.  G.  But  that  ye  may  linow  that  the  Son 
of  man  hath  power  on  earth  to  forf^ive  sins.'\ 
Now  he  asserts  a  peculiar  power  of  forgiving 
sin.  Though  a  man  walking  on  the  earth  as 
the  rest,  yet,  in  testimony  of  the  divine  pow- 
er. Hi-  iaith  lo  the  sick  of  the  jialsy — this 
apostrophe  maketh  the  proof  more  lively, 
joining  presently  the  real  experiment  of  that 
miraculous  cure — Arise,  take  vp  thy  hed. 
That  word  which  gave  being  to  the  world, 
what  is  hard  to  it  ?  And  in  the  case  of  spir- 
itual deadness,  soul-j)alsy,  no  more  is  neces- 
sary than  a  word  from  his  mouth,  and  it  shall 
be  lively  and  strong;  it  shall  skip  and /eo/). 
Isa.  XXXV.  6.  Lord,  speak  that  word  !  And 
indeed,  wheresoever  he  jiardons  sin,  he  with- 
al makes  the  soul  able  and  nimble,  to  run  in 
the  uviy  of  his  command iiients  ;  to  carry  its 
bed,  that  before  carried  it:  to  command  and 
wield  at  pleasure  those  low  things  wherein  it 
rested. 

Ver.  8.  Bxit  when  the  mv/tilude  satv  it  they 
marvelled.]  T/(fy/tflrcr/,  says  St.  Luke.  A 
gracious  work  it  was,  yet  so  full  of  wonder, 
that  it  stiuck  them  with  a  kind  of  fear.  And 
they  <:loriJii  d  (iod.  Thus  shall  he  break  out, 
and  shine  bright  in  his  works,  when  most  op- 
posed by  evil  men.  Yet  they  knew  him  not 
well,  but  took  him  for  an  extraordinary  man 
only.  But  thus  he  was  jileased  to  be  known 
by  degrees,  and  to  rise  as  the  morning  light. 
It  is  a  common  ()resumptioii,  and  generally 
that  of  the  least  knowing,  to  think  that  they 
have  the  true  and  full  sense  of  the  articles  of 
religion  ;  and  that  presumpti(jn  is  commonly 
accompanied  with  t'his  precipitancy,  that  we 


would  constrain  all  to  know  and  believe,  at 
once,  without  delay,  whatsoever  we  think  and 
believe.  Who  hud  go'cn  such  power  u/iiv 
men.  But  had  they  known  ibis  honor  given 
unto  men,  that  this  man  was  God,  they  would 
have  woiuiercd  much  more.  And  il'  he  was 
so  astonishingly  wonderful  in  healing  a  sick 
man,  how  wondeil'ul  shall  he  be  in  raising 
the  dead  !  And  if  in  his  lowness  his  jiowei 
was  admired,  how  much  more  shall  all  ad- 
mire that  power  which  shall  then  be  given 
him,  when  the  man,  Christ,  shall  come  in  the 
brightness  of  his  glory,  to  judge  the  world  ! 

Ver.  9.    And  as  Jesus  passed  forth  from 
thence,  he  saiv  a  man  named  Matthew,  sitting 
I  al  the  receipt  of  custom.]    He  stayed  no  long 
j  time  upon  earth,  but  he  lost  no  part  of  that 
^  time.    Every  step  to  us  is  a  wonder  of  good- 
ness.   And  here  is  a  cure  which  the  evan- 
gelist ingenuously  relates  as  done  upon  him- 
self, which  was  no  less,  if  not  more  wonder- 
ful than  that  performed  upon  the  paralytic; 
and  done  as  easily  and  quickly  by  the  same 
means,  a  word  spoken. 

lie  sail'  a  man  named  Matthew.  He  loves 
first,  and  s])ies  first,  when  we  think  on  noth- 
ing less  than  him  ;  as  he  says  to  Nathanael  : 
I  Before  Philip  called  thee,  when  thou  wast  un- 
\  der  the  Jig-tree,  I  saw  thee.  And  this  seeing 
]  of  Matthew  was  no  casual,  but  a  designed 
sight,  proceeding  from  a  former  sight,  like 
unto  that  of  Nathanael  ;  and  is  the  sight  of 
:  his  foreknowing  and  forechoosing  love.  So 
even  this  very  sight  of  his  calling  and  con- 
verting power  did  prevent  Matthew,  while  he 
thought  of  no  such  thing,  and  would  have  let 
Jesus  j)ass,  being  so  intent  upon  his  busy  em- 
ployment, as  either  not  to  have  seen  him  at 
^  all,  or  to  have  taken  no  notice  of  him. 
I  Sitting  at  the  receipt  of  custom.  This  is 
the  common  case,  the  posture  of  called  sin- 
ners. While  they  are  thinking  of  no  such 
thing,  but  altogether  drowned  in  other  de- 
sires and  cares  (even  at  the  church,  their 
hearts  are  often  more  in  their  shops,  or  fields, 
or  any  earthly  business  they  are  engaged  in), 
their  very  hearts  being  a  little  customhouse, 
such  a  crowd  and  noise  of  cares  and  vanities, 
as  there  is  usually  of  people  in  a  custom- 
house. He  who  hath  their  names  in  his  book 
of  life,  at  his  appointed  time  glances  at  them, 
by  a  powerful  look  cast  on  them,  and,  by  a 
word  spoken  lo  them,  draws  them  to  himself; 
and  that  without  minding  any  jjrevious  worth 
or  congruous  disposition  in  them,  more  than 
in  others  ;  yea,  finding  them  in  a  more  indis- 
posed temperaiid  jiosture, ])ossibly ,  than  many 
others  who  are  not  called,  as  the  evangelist 
here  freely  and  humbly  declares  of  himself, 
speaking  out  his  calling,  and  his  busy  dili- 
gence in  it,  in  the  very  instant  that  he  is  call- 
ed from  it.  Observe,  likewise,  his  expressing 
of  his  common  name,  Matthew  ;  whereas  the 
other  evangelist,  in  the  recital  of  this  story, 
gives  him  that  other  name  which  was  the 
uiore  honorable,  Levi.  Sitting  at  the  receipt 
of  custom,  a  profession  of  great  gain,  but  little 
credit  among  the  Jews  ;  and  though,  possibly, 


Ver.  9—13.] 


OF  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL. 


439 


not  utterlv  unlawful  ir  the  nature  of  it,  yet, 
so  generally  corrupt  in  the  exercise  and  man- 
agement of  it  ;  like  some  other  callings, 
which,  though  a  man  can  not  absolutely  de- 
termine them  to  be  unlawful,  are  yet  seldom 
or  never  lawfully  and  spotlessly  discharged. 
Therefore,  the  Jew.i  shunned  the  very  socie- 
ty of  publicans  (lax-gatherers)  as  a  wicked, 
execrable  kind  of  men,  and  did  in  a  manner 
necessitate  ihetn  to  converse  with  the  worst 
sort  of  persons,  as  being  expelled  and  gene- 
rally avoided  by  all  others  :  so  that  you  find 
them  here,  ver.  10,  and  usually  in  the  gospel, 
linked  loizelher,  puh/icans  and  sinners,  that  is, 
noted,  nefarious  sinners,  such  as  harlots,  and 
other  scandalously  vicious  persons.  Yet  from 
this  stained  and  ill-reputed  calhnsr,  is  Mat- 
thew called  by  the  holy  Lord,  to  follow  him. 
As  he  called  poor  fishermen,  and  made  them 
fishnrs  of  men,  to  catch  men.  to  save  them  by 
their  net  spread,  the  word  of  life  preached,  so 
he  calls  a  rich  publican  to  be  a  gatherer-in  of 
his  tribute  and  treasure  in  the  world,  the 
souls  of  chosen  sinners,  by  the  publication  of 
the  "ospel. 

No  rank  of  men  is  so  low,  as  to  be  below 
the  condescension  of  his  choice  and  grace: 
and  none  are  so  remote,  in  the  reputed  or  rea] 
iniquity  of  their  station  or  person,  as  to  be 
without  the  extent  and  reach  of  his  saving 
hand.    And  he  is  [)leased  to  give  instances  of 
this  in  choosing  whom  he  v/ill,  and  making 
them  what  he  will,  that  no  flesh  may  "-/or?/ 
brfiire  him,  but  thai  all  flesh  may  glorify  him, 
whom  no  unworthiness  or  unfitness  can  pre- 
judice, either  in  the  freedom  of  his  grace  in 
choosing  them,  or  in  the  power  of  his  grace 
in  changing  the  mind  and  fitting  them  for 
for  what  he  calls  them  to.    He  hath  no  need, 
nor  takes  no' ice  of  our  rules,  nor  judges  ac- 
cording to  our  thoughts     Not  only  have  we 
here  a  publican,  but  afterward  a  persecutor, 
made  a  most  eminent  preacher  and  apostle 
of  Jesus  Christ.    And  his  choice  and  calling 
wipes  out  theslainof  all  preceding  sin,  ihoufrli 
the  persons  themselves  do  readily  acknowl- 
edge it   on  all  occasions,  as  St.  Paul  often 
does,  and  St.  Matthew  does  here.    And  in- 
deed it  is  sincerity  and  huniility  for  them  who 
are  converted,  at  a  irreat  distance  of  time  so 
to  do.    But  for  others  to  object  to  them,  after 
their  conversion,  either  the  meanness  or  the 
sinfulness  of  tlieir  former  lives,  were  great 
uncharity  and  follv  :  it  were  to  reckon  up  to 
men  that  which  God  hath  blotted  out,  who 
alone  is  interested  in  the  account.  I 
Herein  God  is  wonderful,  who  seizeth  on  | 
some  persons  in  the  midst  of  youthful  dissi- 
pations, or  violent  pursuits  of  the  world,  and 
purifies  them  for  himself;  makes  them  not 
only  vessels  of  honor,  but  of  the  first  rank,  to 
bear  his  name  to  others  ;  makes  them  emi- 
nently holy,  gives  them  great  abilities,  and 
which  is    the  top  of  all  abilities,  ardent 
love,  and  mirrhty  affection  for  his  service. 
His  Spirit,  that  holy  fire,  refines  gross  earth 
into  the  pureness  of  transparent  glass,  lo  be 
the  miet  of  light  to  his  people.  i 


I  Now,  why  is  this  one  taken  from  the  cus^ 
toinbouse,  and  so  many  others  left,  both 
there  and  elsewhere,  round  about  him  1  This 
is  arcanum  imperii,  a  slate  secrel  :  no  rea- 
son is  to  be  expected  but  his  good  pleasure. 
Why  is  such  a  poor  creature  in  a  cottage 
chosen,  and  great  palaces  passed  by  ?  Why 
are  simple  and  unlettered  persons  taught  the 
mysteries  of  heaven,  and  great  wits  left  to 
evaporate  themselves  upon  vain  loves,  and 
other  like  follies?  Why  in  the  same  house 
is  one  chosen  and  called,  and  it  may  be  a  ser- 
vant, and  the  rest  passed  by?  Nothing  can 
be  given  in  answer  but  this  :  Even  so,  Father, 
because  it  pleaseth  thee. 

And  he  satih  unto  him,  FoJIoin  me.]  I  am 
not  of  the  mind  of  a  grave  interpreter  who 
thinks  there  were  other  words  added  to  per- 
suade him,  though  not  related.  I  am  some- 
what confident  that  there  was  no  more  said 
at  all,  this  being  our  Savior's  usual  wcjrd  oi 
calling  others  in  the  same  way,  and  so  pow- 
erful a  word  and  of  such  mighty  influence, 
that  there  wes  no  resisting  it.  lie  arose  and 
followed  him.  No  chains  so  sirung  to  hold 
an  earthly  mind,  as  those  of  gold  and  silver. 
He  was  here  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  very 
heavy  ones  they  were,  no  doubt:  yet,  the 
Word  makes  the  soul  break  loose  with  a  mar- 
vellous force  from  all.  Some  apprehend  (as 
well  they  may),  there  was  an  attractive  pcjw- 
er  in  the  aimiable  Jesus  who  here  called  him  ; 
but  surely  the  word  had  of  his  divine  power 
in  it,  and  reached  the  heart,  and  could  not  be 
resisted,  and  drew  more  strongly  than  all  the 
receijits,  and  gains,  and  involved  business  of 
his  pr(jfessioii,  which  could  not  hold  hiin  back. 
So  Elijah  but  cast  his  mantle  upon  Elislia  in 
I)assing,  and  he  lijUowcd.  What  have  1  done 
lolhee?  said  he.  Nothing  to  look  at,  yet 
enough  to  constrain  him  to  leave  all  and  fol- 
low him.  So  it  is  in  the  conversion  of  any 
sinners  ;  no  weishis  nor  bolts  can  hold  them  : 
they  must  follow  a  commanding  word,  such 
as  that  which,  in  the  creation,  causes  that  to 
be  ihat  it  commands:  a  magnetic  touch  of 
Jesus  Christ,  speaking  in  a  word  to  the  heart, 
so  that  it  must  follow  him.  Oh  !  happy  souls 
that  have  felt  it  ! 

Ver.  10-1^.  A?id  as  Jesus  sal  at  meat  in  the 
house,  behold,  many  publicans  and  sinners 
Came,  and  sat  down  with  him,  and  his  disci- 
ples.] The  other  evangelists  tell  that  it  was 
in  Matthew's  house,  and  at  a  great  feast 
which  he  made  ;  this  himself  does  not  men- 
lion.  This  feast  he  made  both  as  a  respect- 
ful entertainment  to  his  new  Master,  and  as 
a  civil  farewell  to  his  old  friends,  and  fellow 
fiublicans:  and  possibly  he  took  the  confi- 
dence to  invite  them  tosrether  with  Jesus 
Christ,  hoping  that  his  presence  and  compa- 
ny miffht  have  likewise  sotne  happy  influence 
upon  some  of  them  :  and  it  is  likely  divers  of 
them  came  uninvited,  out  of  a  desire  to  see 
Jesus,  having  heard  ol'  this  his  sudden  and 
powerful  withdrawing  of  one  who,  no  doubt, 
was  a  prime  man  among  them.  However, 
the  mild  and  gracious  Jesus  refuses  neither 


440                      LECTURES  ON  ST.  MATTHEW'S  GOSPEL.  [Chap.  17, 

♦he  feast  nor  the  company,  conileprendiii!i  to  fore  come  to  him  for  he  came  to  thee.    It  la 

(lie  most  ordinary  customs  of  life,  and  in  such  that  he  comes  to  seolc— thev  are  the 

these  thinijs  affectinor  nothina:  of  austerity  very  objects  of  his  "race.    He  had  nothing 

and  singularity  :  and  he  chose  this  coni()liant  else  to  do  in  the  world  but  to  save  such  ;  he 

way  as  most  suitible  to  his  design:  He  be- '  came  on  purpose  for  their  sakes.  His  very 
came  like  us  in  all  things,  excevtiyn;  sin.          I  name  tells  it :  He  shall  he  called  Jesus,  foi 

But  all  along,  the  spirit  of  pliarisaical  envv  he  shall  save  his  people  from  their  sins,    ft  is 

follows  him,  and  lies  at  the  catch  for  an  ad-  so  far  from  being  a  just  hinderancc,  that  it  is 

vantage.  Here  it  seemed  fair  for  tliem.  Tiiey  the  only  title  to  liis  favorable  intentions,  that 

accost  not  himself  with  it,  but  his  disciples,  thou  art  a  sinner.  Were  it  not  strange  if  one 

hoping  more  easily  to  unsettle  them  of  their  should  say,  I  am  sick,  very  sick,  therefore  I 

opinion  of  their  Master:  How  is  this?    He  will  not  make  an  address  to  the  physician  ? 

calls  you  to  follow  him  as  to  some  eminent  And  to  say,  T  am  a  sinner,  and  a  great  one, 

way  of  sanctity,  and  leads  you  unto  feasting  therefore  I  dare  not  go  to  the  Savior  of  sin- 

and  good  cheer,  and  that  with  the  refuse  and  ncrs,  wcmld  be  equally  strange.  Oh, no:  there- 

impuresl  sort  of  men,  puhlicans  and  sinners,  fore  I  will  go:  he  came  for  me  :  I  am  sure 

.Tesus  takes  on  him  the  answer,  as  alone  able  he  is  able  to  heal  me — ought  to  be  the  lan- 

to  give  it  home.   Why  ?    What  wonder  vou  guage  of  all  such. 

to  see  me  in  such  company  ?  Why,  where  But  though  this  is  a  great  encouragement 
should  a  man  be,  but  where  his  business  to  sinners,  it  is  no  encouragement  at  all  to 
lies  ?  Were  it  strange  to  find  a  j>hysirian  in  sin.  He  came  to  call  dinners,  but  it  is  to  call 
an  hospital  or  infirmary,  or  anywhere  among  them  to  repentance.  This  the  whole  gospel, 
the  sick  ?  Here  is  my  work  and  great  em-  and  all  the  doctrine  of  grace,  still  presses.  If 
ployment ;  and  you  might  have  read  a  word  thou  brin?  thy  sins  to  Jesus  Christ,  as  thy 
applicable  to  this  purpose:  J  u-ill  have  mercy  '  malady  and  misery,  to  be  cured  of  them,  and 
and  not  sacrifice  ;  that  is,  rather  than  sacri-  delivered  from  them,  it  is  well :  but  to  come 
fice,  or  any  ceremonial  observance,  such  as  with  them  as  thy  beloved  darlings  and  de- 
this  you  urge,  of  abhorring  the  society  of  Usht,  thinking  still  to  retain  them  and  re- 
such  persons,  substantial  goodness  and  duties  ceive  him,  thou  misiakest  him  grossly,  and 
of  compassion  and  love.  And  instead  of  miserably  deludest  thyself.  He  came  forth 
squinting  on  what  you  see,  go  think  on  this,  from  God,  to  restore  souls  to  God,  in  order  to 
You  have  read  it  likely,  but  do  not  well  un-  make  us  partakers  of  his  Divine  nature.  The 
dersiand  it  :  study  better  what  it  means,  great  intendment  of  the  blessed  Jesus,  and 
Meanwliile  kntJW  this,  that  I  am  prosecu-  the  great  redemption  he  wrought  is,  to  sepa- 
ting  ihe  great  design  of  my  coming  into  the  rate  our  hearts  and  sin.  We  know  him  not, 
world,  while  I  am  in  such  company.  I  came  if  we  take  it  otherwise.  And  this  says 
to  call  not  the  righteous,  hut  sinners  to  re-  clearly,  that  though  he  hath  come  to  us,  and 
ventance.  Not  the  righteous  :  either  them  stretched  forth  his  hands  long  among  us,  few 
that  conceit  themselves  such,  as  you  do,  or  of  us  are  come  to  him.  Oh  !  how  few  have 
any  that  are  really  converted  already  and  re-  trod  on  the  neck  of  their  beloved  sin,  to  come 
ligious.  My  present  business  is  not  so  much  to  Jesus  Christ  I  This  is  the  sreat,  deplora- 
with  them,  as  to  restore  the  ungodly,  to  call  ble  wretchedness  of  the  land:  not  the  losses 
sinners  to  repentance.  and  ravages  of  war  ;  not  the  loss  of  civil  lib- 

I  will  not  now  speak  of  the  rules  and  qtialifi-  eriy,  or  anything  else  that  way  :  this  is  it — 

cations  of  using  or  avoidinir  the  converse  of  un-  Unrepeniance.    We  turn  not  by  being  smit- 

holy  persons  ;  but  doubtless  there  lies  much,  ten  with  the  sharpest  rod  :  we  turned  not  by 

we  shall  find,  as  in  this  instance,  in  the  due  being  invited  with  tender  mercies.    Look  on 

consideration  of  the  persons  on  bo'h  sides,  such  as  have  been  suffering  at  home,  or 

what  hope  there  may  be  of  reclaiming  them,  wandering  abroad  :  what  change  has  been 

and  what  safety  of  not  being  corrupted  by  wrought  on  our  hearts  ?    What  imports  who 

them,  lest,  while  we  think  to  pull  them  out  do,  or  do  not,  rule  over  us,  while  our  unwor- 

of  the  mire,  they  drag  us  into  it.    Here  there  thy  lusts  and  passions  still  do?    If  spoiled 

was  none  of  that  danger  at  all,  and  there  was  :  and  poor,  and  without  Christ  too,  then  we 

the  highest  power  for  converting:  and  the  are  poor  indeed:  oh,  pitiful  poor!    Vea,  if 

persons,  even  by  coming  so  willingly  where  thou  escape  many  things  that  light  sadly  on 

he  was.  seem  not  to  have  been  the  most  ob-  '  others,  yet,  if  thou  hast  not  escaped  the  do- 

stinate  and  incorrigible.    But  we  should  re-  minion  of  sin,  and  that  curse  of  death  that 

fleet  well  on  ourselves  in  this  case,  that  our  cleaves  to  it,  oh,  wretched  caitiff!  Think 

intention  be  suitable  to  this,  and  that  we  be  what  Jesus  came  and  died  for — what  we  live 

in  some  measure  hopeful  to  be  able  to  accom-  for — and  what  is  our  great  business  on  this 

plish,  before  we  attempt  such  a  thing  :  oth-  earth — that  our  sins  should  die  before  us.  He 

erwise  it  will  prove  fool-hardiness,  to  advcn-  came  to  call  the  earthly  to  heavenly-minded- 

ture  much  of  this  kind.                                ]  ness  and  heavenly  conversation  :  to  call  the 

But  this  is  the  great  comfort  of  sinners,  this  unclean  to  purity  :  to  call  the  passionate  and 

«^'ord  :  /  cnme  to  call  not  the  righteous,  hut  furious  to  meekness:  to  call  the  proud  to  hu- 

iinners    What  can  a  diffident  heart  say,  that  mility.   Oh,  answer  this  call.    Give  him  the 

it  should  not  come  to  Jesus  Christ?    Art  desire  of  his  heart,  and  'e  will  certainly  give 

thrvii  a  sinner,  an  eminent  sinner  ?    There-  thee  thine. 


SERMONS. 


SERMON  I. 

HEAVENLY  WISDOM. 

IIany  and  great  are  the  evils  that  lodge 
witain  the  heart  of  man,  and  they  come  forth 
abundantly  both  by  the  tongue  and  by  the 
hand,  yet  the  heart  is  not  emptied  of  them  ; 
yea,  the  more  it  vents  them  outwardly,  the 
more  they  increase  within.  Well  might  He 
who  knows  the  heart  so  well,  call  it  an  evil 
treasure.  We  find  the  prophet  Ezekiel,  in 
his  eighth  chapter,  led  by  the  Lord  in  vision 
to  Jerusalem,  to  view  the  sins  of  the  Jews 
who  remained  there  in  the  time  of  the  cap- 
tivity: when  he  had  showed  him  one  abom- 
ination, he  caused  him  to  dig  through  the 
wall,  to  enter  and  discover  more,  and  so  di- 
rected him  several  times,  from  one  place  to 
another,  and  still  said,  /  will  ifinw  thee  yet 
greater  ahominalions.  Thus  it  is  with  those 
whom  the  Lord  leads  into  an  examination  of 
their  own  hearts  (for  men  are  usually  stran- 
gers to  themselves),  by  the  light  of  his  word, 
and  his  Spirit  going  before  them  :  he  lets 
them  see  heaps  of  abominations  in  every 
room,  and  the  vilest  in  the  most  retired  and 
darkest  corners.  And  truly,  should  he  leave 
them  there,  they  would  despair  of  remedy. 
No  ;  he  makes  this  discovery  on  purpose  that 
they  should  sue  to  him  for  help.  Do  so.  then, 
as  many  of  you  as  have  taken  anv  noticeof  the 
evils  of  your  own  hearts.  Tell  the  Lord,  those 
hearts  are  his  own  work:  He  formed  /he  heart 
of  rnan  within  him.  And  they  are  his  own 
choice  too*  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart.  En- 
treat him  to  redre.ss  all  tho=e  abu'ies  where- 
with Satan  and  sn,  h  ^ve  filled  it,  and  then  to 
take  possession  of  it  nirnself,  for  therein  con- 
sists its  happiness.  This  is,  or  should  be,  a 
main  end  of  our  resortings  to  his  hou~e  and 
service.  Wrong  not  yourselves  so  far  as  to 
turn  these  serious  exercises  of  religion  into 
an  idle  divertisement.  What  a  happiness 
were  it,  if  every  time  you  come  to  his  solemn 
worship,  some  of  your  strongest  sins  did  re- 
ceive a  new  wound,  and  some  of  your  weak- 
est graces  a  new  strength  ! 

Jamks  iii.  17. 

But  the  wisdom  that  is  from  above,  is  first  pure,  then 
peaccabl",  %n\\\c,  anrl  pasy  to  be  entreated,  full  of 
mercy  and  ijood  fruits,  without  partiality,  and 
withiiut  hypocrisy. 

God  doth  know,  that  in  the  day  that  ye 
thall  eat  thereof,  your  eyes  shall  he  opened, 
and  ye  shall  he  as  gods,  knowins:  good  and 
evil,  was  the  first  hiss-ng  of  that  old  serpent, 
50 


by  which  he  poisoned  mankind  in  the  root, 
Man,  not  contented  with  the  impression  of 
God's  image,  in  which  he  was  created,  lost  it 
by  catching  at  a  shadow.  Climbmg  higher 
than  his  station,  he  fell  far  below  it :  seeking 
to  be  more  than  man,  to  become  as  God,  he 
made  himself  less  than  man.  He  lodged  not 
a  jught  in  honor,  hut  hecainc  as  the  beasts  that 
perish.  Psalm  xlix.  12.  Ever  since,  nature's 
best  wisdom  is  full  of  impurity,  turbulency, 
and  distemper  ;  nor  can  anything  rectify  it, 
but  a  wisdom  from  above,  that  both  cleanseth 
and  composeth  the  soul :  it  is  first  pure,  and 
then  peaceable. 

This  epistle,  as  some  that  follow,  is  called 
general,  both  by  reason  of  the  dispersion  of 
the  parties  to  wiiom  it  is  addressed,  and  the 
universality  of  the  subject  which  it  treats; 
containing  a  great  number  (if  not  all)  of  the 
necessary  directions  and  comforts  of  a  Chris- 
tian's life,  both  for  the  active  and  the  passive 
part  of  it.  It  is  evident  that  the  aposile's 
main  design  is,  to  arm  the  dispersed  Jews 
against  all  kinds  of  temptations — both  ihose 
of'  affliction,  in  the  lirst  chapter,  at  the  2d 
verse,  and  sinful  temptations,  verse  13th. 
And  having  discoursed  of  two  special  means 
of  strengthening  them  against  both — speak- 
ing to  God  in  prai/er,  and  hearing  God  speak 
in  his  word — in  the  last  two  verses  of  that 
first  chapter,  he  recommends,  as  chief  duties 
of  religion,  and  sure  evidences  of  integrity  in 
religion,  first,  meekness  and  muderation,  chief- 
ly in  their  speeches,  and  then,  charily  and  pu- 
rity in  their  actions ;  msisiing  largely  upon 
the  latter,  in  the  second  clia])ler,  and  upon 
the  former,  the  ruling  of  the  toniiue,  in  the 
third  chapter  :  and  here,  toward  the  end  of 
it,  he  shows  the  true  opposite  springs  of  mis- 
carriage in  speech  and  action,  and  of  right  or- 
dering and  regulating  of  both.  Evil  conver- 
sation, strifes,  and  envyings,  are  the  fruits  ol' 
a  base  wisdom  that  is  earthly,  sensual,  anc 
devilish,  ver.  1.5tli  ;  but  purity,  meekness,  and 
mercy,  are  the  proper  effects  and  certain 
signs  of  heavenly  wisdom. 

The  wisdom  that  is  from  above  is  first  pure  ; 
its  gentleness  can  agree  with  anything  except 
impurity.  Then  it  is  peaceable — it  offends 
nobody,  except  jninly  ofTend  them.  It  is  not 
raging  and  boisterous.  It  is  not  only  pure, 
being  void  of  lliat  mire  and  dirt  which  the 
wicked  are  said  lo  cast  out  like  the  sea  (Isa. 
lvii.20),  but  peaceable  likewise,  not  swelling, 
and  restless  like  the  sea,  as  is  there  said  of 
the  wicked.  N(jr  is  it  only  peaceable  nega- 
tively, not  offending,  but  as  the  word  bears 


(42 


THE  NATURE  AND  PROPERTIES 


|Ser.  I. 


[sipiji-iKr,]  pacific,  disposed  to  make  and  seek  ! 
peace.    And  as  it  readily  oll'cnds  none,  so  it 
is  not  ( fisily  ulT'endcd.    It  is  gentle  and  ?/iod- 
erate,  [iric<i,;(;l.  and  iroflended,  [cvncidin],  castly  ; 
entreolrd  Id  fortrive.  And  as  it  easily  passetli  \ 
by  men's  (lilences,  so  it  dulh  not  pass  by,  but 
looks  upon  their  distresses  and  wants — as  full 
of  comiiassion  as  it  is  free  from  unruly  and 
distempered  passions.    Nor  rests  it  in  an  af- 
fected sympatliy  ;  its  mercy  is  helpful— 
of  inerci/  and  good  fruits.    And  it  both  for- 
gives and  pities,  and  gives  without  iiartiality, 
and  icit/ioul  liypncrisy  :  [aiiaKpirot  Koi  duvndnpi- 

Ttt]-  Tlie  word  ai5<diff)(Tos  may  as  well  bear 
another  sense,  no  less  suiting  both  with  tliis 
wisdom,  and  these  its  other  qualities:  that  is, 
not  taking  upon  it  a  cen.torioiis  discerning, 
and  Judging  of  others.  They  that  have  most 
of  tliis  wisdom,  are  least  rigid  to  those  that 
have  less  of  it.  I  know  no  better  evidence 
of  strengih  in  grace,  than  to  bear  much  with 
those  that  are  weak  in  it.  And  lastly,  as  it 
spares  the  infirmities  of  others,  so  it  makes 
not  false  and  vain  shows  of  its  own  excellen- 
cies ;  it  is  irilhout  hypocrisy.  This  denies 
two  things,  both  dissimulation  and  ostenta- 
tion. The  art  of  dissembling  or  hypocrite- 
craft,  is  no  part  of  this  wisdom.  And  for  the 
other,  ostentation,  surely  the  air  of  applause 
is  100  light  a  purchase  for  solid  wisdom.  The 
works  of  this  wisdom  may  be  seen,  yea,  they 
should  be  seen,  and  possibly  be  now  and  then 
commended  ;  but  they  should  not  be  done  for 
that  low  end,  either  lo  be  seen  or  to  be  com- 
mended. Surely  not,  being  of  so  noble  ex- 
traction. This  wisdom  having  descended 
from  heaven,  will  be  little  careful  for  the  es- 
timation of  those  that  are  of  the  earth,  and 
are  but  too  often  of  the  earth,  earthly. 

The  due  order  of  handling  these  particulars 
more  tully  can  not  well  be  missed.  Doubtless, 
the  subject  (wisdom  from  above)  requires  our 
first  consideration  ;  next,  the  excellent  quali- 
ties that  are  attributed  to  it ;  and  lastly,  their 
order  is  to  be  considered,  the  rather  because 
so  clearly  expressed, /iVa^  pure,  then  jieacea- 
ble,  &:c. 

Wisdom  from  above.l  There  be  two  things 
in  that :  there  is  the  general  term  of  wisdom, 
common  to  divers  sort  of  wisdom,  though 
most  eminently  and  truly  belonsing  to  this 
best  wisdom  :  then  there  is  the  birth  or  ori- 
gma'  of  this  wisdom,  serving  as  its  difference 
to  specify  and  distinguish  it  from  all  the  rest 
— wisdom  from  above.  Wisdom,  in  the  gen- 
eral, is  a  very  plausible  word  amona:  men. 
Who  is  there  that  would  not  willinirly  pass 
for  wise  ?  Yea,  ot'ten  those  that  are  least  of 
all  such,  are  most  desirous  to  be  accounted 
such  ;  and  wiiere  this  fails  them,  they  usually 
make  up  that  want  in  their  own  conceit  and 
strong  opinion.  Nor  do  men  only  thus  love 
the  reputation  of  wisdom,  but  they  naturally 
desire  to  be  wii=e,  as  they  do  to  be  happy  : 
yet,  through  corrupt  nature's  blindness,  they 
do  as  naturally  mistake  and  fall  short  both  of 
\be  one  and  the  other  ;  and  being  once  wrong. 


the  more  progress  they  make,  they  are  farthei 
out  of  the  way,  and  ])reiending  to  wisdom  in 
a  false  way,  they  still  beibol  themselves,  as 
the  apostle  speaks,  Rom.  i.  22:  ipicKotTCf  elvat 
OO0O1  iiiupavdnfaav-  Professing  themselves  lo  he 
wise,  they  become  fools. 

Our  apostle,  ver.  15,  speaking  of  that  wick- 
ed wisdom  that  is  fruitful  of  wrongs,  strifes, 
and  debates,  and  that  is  only  abusively  to  be 
called  irisdom,  shows  what  kind  of  wisdom 
it  is,  by  three  notable  characters,  earthly, 
natural,  and  devilish  j  which  though  they  be 
here  jointly  attributed  to  one  and  the  same 
subject,  yet  we  may  make  use  of  them  to 
signify  some  differences  of  false  wisdom. 
There  is  an  infernal,  or  devilish  wisdom, 
proper  for  contriving  crueltiesand  oppressions, 
or  subtle  shifts  and  deceits  that  make  atheism 
a  main  basis  and  pillar  of  state  policy  :  such 
as  those  t/iat  devise  mischiif  uj>on  their  beds. 
&c.  Mic.  ii.  1.  This  is  a  serjimtine  wisdom, 
not  joined  with,  but  most  opposite  to  the  dove- 
like simplicity.  There  is  an  earthly  wisdom 
that  draws  not  so  deep  in  impiet"'  as  tha 
other,  yet  is  sufficient  to  keep  a  man  .;ut  of 
all  acquaintance  with  God  and  Divine  matters, 
and  is  drawing  his  eye  per])etually  down- 
ward, employing  him  in  the  pursuit  of  such 
things  as  can  not  fill  the  soul,  except  it  be 
with  anguish  and  vexation.  By  thy  great 
wisdom,  and  by  thy  traffic  hast  thou  increased 
thy  riches,  and  thine  heart  is  lifted  up  because 
ofthyriches.  Ezek.  xxviii.  5.  That  dexterity 
of  fathering  riches,  where  it  is  not  at'ended 
with  the  Christian  art  of  rightly  using  them, 
abases  men's  souls,  and  indisjioscs  them 
wholly  for  this  wisdom  that  is  from  above. 
There  is  a  natural  wisdom  I'ar  more  plausible 
than  the  other  two,  more  harmless  than  that 
hellish  wisdom,  and  more  refined  than  that 
earthly  wisdom,  yet  no  more  able  to  make 
man  holy  and  happy  than  they  are  :  Natural, 
■^vx'Kh,  it  is  the  word  the  Apostle  St.  Paul 
useth.  1  Cor.  ii.  !,vepwmi  tpvx'KOi,  v\d,m'mg,  the 
natural  man  by  his  better  part,  his  soul :  in- 
timating that  the  soul,  even  in  the  highest 
faculty  of  it,  the  understanding,  and  that  in 
the  highest  pitch  of  excellency  to  which 
nature  can  raise  it,  is  blind  in  spiritual  objects. 
Things  that  are  above,  can  not  be  known  but 
by  a  wisdom  from  above.  Nature  neither  af- 
fords this  wisdom,  nor  can  it  of  itself  acquire 
it.  There  is  to  advertise  us,  that  we  mistake 
not  morality  and  cornmoji  knoirledge,  even  of 
Divine  things,  for  the  wisdom  thai  is  from 
above.  That  may  raise  a  man  high  above 
the  vulgar,  as  the  tops  of  the  highest  moun- 
tains leave  the  valleys  below  them  :  yet  is  it 
still  as  far  short  of  true  supernatural  wisdom, 
as  the  highest  earth  is  of  the  highest  sphere. 
There  is  one  main  point  of  the  method  of  this 
wisdom  that  is  of  most  hard  digestion  to  a 
natural  man,  and  the  more  natural  wise  he 
be,  the  worse  he  likes  it :  If  any  man  would 
be  wise,  let  him  become  a  fool  that  ' he  may  be- 
come wise.  1  Cor.  iii.  18.  There  is  nothing 
gives  nature  a  greater  prejudice  against  re- 


1  A.M  F.S  111.  17.] 


OF  HEAVENLY  WISDOM. 


443 


li^ion,  than  this  initial  point  of  self-denial. 
When  men  of  eminent  learning,  or  the  strong 
politicians,  hear  that,  if  they  will  come  to 
Christ,  they  must  renounce  their  own  wisdom 
10  be  fit  for  his,  many  of  them  go  awav  as 
sorrowful  as  the  young  man  when  he  heard 
of  Sflling  all  his  goods  and  giving  them  to 
the  poor. 

Jesus  Christ  is  that  eternal  and  substantial 
WISDOM  that  came  from  above,  to  deliver 
men  from  perishing  in  their  affected  folly,  as 
you  hnd  it  at  large  ii  Prov.  viii.  St.  Paul,  in 
the  rtrst  chapter  of  Hs  first  epistle  to  the  Cor- 
inthians,calls  him  t/fi  wisdom  of  God,  ver.  24; 
that  shows  his  excellency  in  himself :  and 
ver.  30,  he  tells  us  that  he  is  made  of  God  our 
wisdom  ;  that  shows  his  usefulness  to  us.  And 
by  him  alone  is  this  infused  wisdom  from  above 
conveyed  to  us.  la  him  are  the  hid  treasures 
of  wisdom  and  knowledge,  Col.  ii.  3  ;  and  from 
hts  fulness,  if  at  all,  we  all  receive  grace  for 
grace  ;  and  of  all  graces,  first  some  measures 
of  this  wisdom,  without  which  no  man  can 
know  himself,  much  less  can  he  know  God. 

Now  this  supernatural  wisdom  hath  in  it 
both  speculation  and  prudence  ;  it  is  contem- 
plative and  practical :  these  two  must  not  he 
separated.  /  wisdom  dwell  with  prudence. 
Prov.  viii.  \2.  This  wisdom,  in  its  contem- 
plative part,  reads  Christ  much,  and  discovers 
in  him  a  new  world  of  hidden  excellencies 
unknown  to  ihis  old  world.  There  are  treas- 
ures of  wisdom  in  him,  bur  thoy  are  hid,  and 
no  eye  sees  them,  but  that  wliich  is  enlifrhten- 
ed  with  thy  wisdom.  No,  it  is  impossible, 
as  one  says  (Sophocles),  rd  Ocia  yvutvai  pmTovTOf 
0£')"  to  know  Diiine  ihinfrs  whi/f  God  con- 
cealeth  them.  But  when  the  renewed  under- 
standing of  a  Christian  is  once  initiated  into 
this  study,  it  both  grows  daily  more  and 
more  apprehensive,  and  Christ  becomes 
more  communicative  of  himself,  and  makes 
the  soul  more  acijuainted  with  the  amiable 
countenance  of  his  Father  in  him  reconciled. 
No  man  hath  seen  God  at  am/  time  ;  the  only 
begotten  Son  which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father,  he  hath  declared  him.  John  i.  18. 
What  wonder  if  the  unlettered  and  despised 
Christian  knows  more  of  the  mysteries  of 
heaven,  than  tiie  naturalist,  though  both  wise 
and  learned  1  Chrisi  admiis  the  believer  into 
his  bosom,  and  he  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Fa- 
ther. But  withal  know,  thai  all  this  knowl- 
edge, though  speculatively  high,  vet  descends 
to  practice:  as  it  learns  what  God  is,  so  it 
thence  teacheth  man,  what  he  should  be. 
This  wisdom  (lows  from  heaven,  and  a  heaven- 
ly conversation  flows  from  it;  as  we  find  it 
there  chara(!terized  by  those  practical  graces 
of  punt  I/,  peace,  meekness,  &c. 

This  wisdom  represents  to  us,  the  purity  of 
God's  nature.  1  J(jhn  iii.  3.  Ii  gives  ihe  soul 
an  eye  to  see  the  comeliness  and  beauty  of 
puritij:  as  the  [)liilosopher  said  of  virtue,  to 
the  end  it  mii^ht  be  loved,  he  would  wish  no 
more  but  that  it  could  l)e.sepn.  And  as  it 
thus  morally  persuades,  so,  by  an  insensible 


I  virtue,  it  assimilates  the  soul  to  Christ,  by 
frequent  contemplation.  It  also  produces  all 
the  motives  to  holiness  and  obedience  ;  it 

i  begets  these  precious  qualities  in  the  soul. 

j  It  giveth  a  Christian  a  view  of  the  matchless 
virtues  that  are  in  Christ,  and  stirs  him  up  t  j 
a  dilisrent,  though  imperfect  imitation  of  them. 
It  sets  before  us  Christ's  spotless  purity,  in 
whose  mouth  there  was  no  guile,  and  so  in- 

j  vites  us  to  purity.  It  represents  the  perpetual 
calmness  of  his  spirit,  that  no  tempest  could 
reach  to  disturb  it :  In  his  mouth  there  was  no 
contentious  noise,  his  voice  was  not  heard  in 
the  streets  ;  and  this  recommends  peaceable- 

j  7iess,  and  gentleness.    And  so  in  the  rest  here 

j  mentioned. 

Hence,  I  conceive,  may  be  fitly  learned  for 

I  our  use,  that  seeing  here  is  a  due  wisdom  and 
knowledge  necessary  for  guidance  and  direc- 
tion in  tlie  ways  of  purtly  and  peace,  it  is 
evident  that  gross  ignorance  can  not  consist 

;  with  the  truth  of  religion,  much  less  can  it  be 
a  help  and  advantage  to  it.  I  shall  never  deny 
that  a  false,  superstitious  religion  stands  in 

[need  of  it:  "Not  too  much  scripture  wisdom 

'  for  the  people."  The  pomp  of  that  vain  re- 
ligion, like  court  masks,  shows  best  by  candle- 
light.   Fond  nature  likes  it  well :  the  day  of 

'  spiritual  wisdom  would  discover  its  iin[)osiure 
loo  clearly.  But  to  let  their  foul  devotion  pass 
(for  such  it  must  needs  be  that  is  born  of  so 
black  a  mother  as  ignorance),  let  this  wisdom 
at  least  be  justified  of  those  that  ])r('tend  to 
he  her  children.  It  is  lamentable  that  among 
us,  where  knowledge  is  not  wiihhehl,  men 
should,  through  sloth  and  love  of  darkness, 
deprive  themselves  of  it.    What  abundance 

!  of  almost  brutish  ignorance  is  aniong  the 
commons  !  and  thence  arise  unclcanness,  and 
all  manner  of  wickedness:  a  darkness  that 
both  hides  and  increaseth  impurity.  What  is 
the  reason  of  so  much  impiety  and  iniquity 
in  all  places,  but  the  want  of  the  knowledge 
of  God  ?  Not  knowin'j:  Jesus  Christ,  and  not 
obeying  his  rrospel,  are  joined  together.  Hosea 
iv.  1,2:2  Thess.  i.  8.  It  will  be  found  true, 
that  where  there  is  no  obedience,  there  is  no 
right  knowledge  of  Christ.  But  out  of  all 
question,  where  there  is  not  a  competency  of 
knowledge,  there  can  be  no  obedience.  And 
as  these  two  lodge  together,  to  observe  what 
attends  them  both.  He  shall  come  in  Jlaming 
fire  to  render  vengeance  on  them  that  know 

J  not  God,  and  that  obey  not  the  gospel  of  our 

'  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

\  And  if  there  be  any  that  think  to  shroud 
unpunished  among  the  thickets  of  ignorance, 
especially  amidst  the  means  of  knowledge, 
take  notice  of  this;  though  it  may  hide  the 
deformity  of  sin  from  your  own  sight  for  a 
time,  it  can  not  palliate  it  from  the  piercing 
eye,  nor  cover  it  from  the  revenging  hand  of 
Divine  Justice.  As  you  would  escape,  then, 
that  wrath  to  come,  come  to  wisdom's  school, 
and  how  simple  soever  ye  be  as  to  this  world, 
if  you  would  not  perish  with  the  world,  learn 
to  be  wise  unto  salvation. 


THE  NATURE  AND  PROPERTIES 


[Ser.  I. 


And  truly,  it  is  mainly  important  for  this 
effect,  that  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  be 
active  and  dexterous  in  inipartinc;  this  wisdom 
to  their  people.  If  they  would  have  their 
conversation  to  be  holy,  and  peaceable,  and 
fruitful,  (?cc.,  ihe  most  expedient  way  is  at 
once  to  principle  them  well  in  the  fundamen- 
tals of  relis^ioii  ;  for  therein  is  their  fjreat  de- 
fect. IIo^v  can  they  walk  evenly  and  regu- 
larly, so  long  as  they  are  in  the  dark  ?  One 
main  thing  is,  to  be  often  pointing  at  the  way 
to  Christ,  the  fountain  of  this  wisdom.  With- 
out this,  you  bid  them  be  clothed,  and  clothe 
them  not. 

How  needful  then  is  it,  that  pastors  them- 
selves be  seers  indeed,  as  the  prophets  were 
called  of  old  ;  not  only  faithful  but  unse  dis- 
pensers, as  our  Savior  speaks,  Luke  xii.  42, 
that  they  be  StSaKTtKoi,  able  and  apt  to  tench. 
1  Tim.  iii.  2.  Laudable  is  the  prudence  that 
tries  mucb  the  churches'  storehouses,  the 
seminaries  of  learning  ;  but  withal,  it  is  not 
to  be  forgot,  that  as  a  due  furniture  of  learning 
is  very  requisite  for  this  employment,  so  it  is 
not  sufficient.  When  one  is  duly  enriched 
that  way,  there  is  yet  one  thing  wanting,  that 
grows  not  in  schools:  except  this  infused 
wisdom  from  above  season  and  sanctify  all 
other  endowments,  they  remain  «oM'a  common 
and  unholy,  and  therefore  unfit  for  the  sanc- 
tuary. Among  other  weak  pretences  to 
Christ's  favor  in  the  last  day,  this  is  one.  We 
have  preached  in  ihxj  name  ;  yet  says  Christ, 
1  never  knew  you.  Surely,  then,  they  know 
not  him,  and  yet  they  preached  him.  Cold 
and  lifeless  (though  never  so  fine  and  well 
contrived)  must  those  discourses  be,  that  are 
of  an  unknown  Christ.  Pastors  are  called 
angels,  and  therefore,  though  they  use  the 
secondary  helps  of  knowledge,  they  are  main- 
ly to  bring  their  message  from  above,  from 
the  fountain,  the  head  of  this  pure  wisdom. 

Pure.]  If  it  come  from  above,  it  must  needs 
be  pure  originally  ;  yea,  it  is  formally  pure 
too,  being  a  main  trait  of  God's  renewed  im- 
age in  the  soul.  By  this  wisdom,  the  under- 
standing is  both  refined  and  strengthened  to 
entertain  right  conceptions  of  God  in  his  na- 
ture and  works.  And  this  is  primarily  neces- 
sary, that  the  mind  be  not  infected  with  false 
opinions  in  religion.  If  the  spring-head  be 
polluted,  the  streams  can  not  be  pure.  This 
is  more  important  than  men  usually  think,  for 
a  good  life.  But  that  which  I  suppose  to  be 
here  chiefly  intended,  is,  that  it  is  effectively 
and  praclicalhj  pure :  it  purifies  the  heart 
(said  of  faith.  Acts  xv.  9,  which,  in  some  sense 
and  acceptation,  differs  not  much  from  this 
wisdom),  and  consequently,  the  words  and 
actions  that  flow  from  the  heart. 

Ihis  purity,  some  render  chastity  :  The 
wisdom  from  above  is  chaste,  'lyti.  The  word 
is  indeed  often  so  taken,  and  includes  that 
here,  but  it  is  too  narrow  a  sense  to  restrict 
it  to  that  only.  It  implies  here,  a  universal 
detestation  of  all  impurity,  both  of  flesh  and 
spirit,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  2  Cor.  vii.  L. 


Pride,  self-love,  profaneness  of  sjiirit,  ana 
irreligion,  though  they  do  not  sojjroperly  pol- 
lute the  body  as  carnal  uncleaimess,  yet  they 
do  no  less  defile  the  soul,  and  make  it  abomi- 
nable in  the  sight  of  God.  Those  apostate 
angels,  called  unclean  spirits,  are  incapable 
of  bodily  defilement,  though  indeed  they  tempt 
and  inveigle  men  to  it  ;  their  own  inherent 
pollutions  must  needs  be  spiritual,  for  they 
are  spirits.  Idolatri/  in  Scripture,  goes  often 
under  the  name  oi fornication  and  adultery  ; 
and  indeed  these  sins  may  mutually  borrow 
and  lend  their  names  the  one  to  the  other  ; 
idolatry  may  well  be  called  spiiritjcal  unchasti- 
ty,  and  unchaste  love,  carnal  idolatry.  Eanh- 
ly-mindedness  likewise  is  an  impurity  of  the 
soul  :  in  the  apostle's  phrase,  covetnusness  is 
idolatry,  and  so,  a  spiritual  ],,:.' lution  ;  yea, 
it  may  well  share  with  idolatry  in  its  borrow- 
ed name,  and  be  called  adultery  too,  for  it 
misbestows  the  soul's  prime  affection  upon  the 
creature,  which  right  is  God's  peculiar  due. 

This  purity  that  true  wisdom  works  is  con- 
trary to  all  pollution.  We  know  then  in  some 
measure  what  it  is :  it  remains  to  inquire 
where  ii  is;  and  there  is  the  difficulty.  It  is 
far  easier  to  describe  it  in  itself,  than  to  find 
it  among  men.  Who  can  say  I  have  made  my 
heart  clean  ?  Proverbs  xx.  9.  Look  upon  the 
greatest  part  of  mankind,  and  you  may  know 
at  first  sight,  that  purity  is  not  to  be  looked 
for  among  them  :  they  suffer  it  not  to  come 
near  them,  much  less  to  dwell  with  them  and 
within  them  ;  they  hate  the  very  semblance 
of  it  in  others,  and  themselves  delight  in  in- 
temperance and  all  manner  of  licentiousness, 
like  foolish  children  striving  who  shall  go  far- 
thest into  the  mire.  These  can  not  say,  they 
have  made  clean  their  hearts,  for  all  their 
words  and  actions  will  belie  them.  If  you 
come  to  the  mere  moralist,  the  world's  honest 
man,  and  ask  him,  it  may  be  he  will  tell  you, 
he  hath  cleansed  his  heart  ;  but  believe  him 
not.  It  will  appear  he  is  not  yet  cleansed, 
because  he  says  he  has  done  it  himself;  for 
(you  know)  there  must  be  some  other  beside 
man  at  this  work  ;  again,  he  rising  up  no  higher 
than  nature,  hath  none  of  this  heavenly  wis- 
dom in  him,  and  therefore  is  without  this  pu- 
rity too.  But  if  you  chance  to  take  notice  of 
some  well-skilled  hypocrite,  everything  you 
meet  with  makes  you  almost  confident,  that 
there  is  purity  ;  yet,  if  he  be  strictly  put  to  it, 
he  may  make  some  good  account  of  the  pains 
he  hath  taken  to  refine  his  tongue  and  his 
public  actions,  but  he  dares  not  say  he  hath 
made  clean  his  heart  ;  it  troubles  his  peace  to 
be  asked  the  question.  He  never  intended  to 
banish  sin,  but  to  retire  it  to  his  innermost 
and  best  room,  that  so  it  might  dwell  unseen 
within  him  ;  and  where  then  should  it  lodge 
but  in  bis  heart  ?  Yet,  possibly,  because  what 
is  outward  is  so  fair,  and  man  can  not  look 
deeper  to  contradict  him,  he  may  embolden 
himself  to  say,  he  is  inwardly  suitable  to  his 
appearance  ;  but  there  is  a  day  at  hand  that 
shall,  to  his  en  'ess  shame,  at  once  discovei 


James  iii.  17.] 


OF  HLAVtJN-.Y  Wlt>D0M. 


445 


both  his  secret  impurity  and  his  impudence  in 
denyins;  it. 

After  these,  there  follow  a  few  despised  and 
melancholy  persons  (at  least  as  to  outward 
appearance),  who  are  almost  always  hanging 
down  their  heads,  and  complaining  of  abun- 
dant sinfulness.  And  surely,  purity  can  not 
be  expected  in  these  who  are  so  far  from  it  by 
their  own  confession  ;  yet  the  truth  is,  that 
such  purity  as  is  here  below,  will  either  be 
found  to  lodge  among  these,  or  nowhere.  Be 
not  deceiv^ed  ;  think  not  that  they  who  loath, 
and  (as  they  can)  flee  from  the  unholiuess  of 
the  world,  are  therefore  taken  with  the  con- 
ceit of  their  own  holiness  ;  but  as  their  perfect 
purity  of  justification  is  by  Christ's  imputed 
righteousness,  so  likewise  they  will  know, 
and  do  always  acknowledge,  that  their  inhe- 
rent holiness  is  from  above  too,  from  the  same 
fountain,  Jesus  Christ.  The  wisdom  from 
ahove  is  pure  ;  this  is  their  engagement  to  hu- 
mility, lor  it  excludes  vaunting  and  boasting: 
and  beside  that,  it  is  imperfect,  troubled  and 
stained  with  sin,  which  is  enough  to  keep 
them  humble.  Their  daily  sad  experience 
will  not  suffer  them  to  be  so  mistaken  :  their 
many  faults  of  infirmity  can  not  but  keep  them 
from  this  presumptuous  fault.  There  is  a  gen- 
eration, indeed,  that  are  pure  in  their  own 
eyes,  but  they  are  such  as  are  not  washed 
from  their  filth.  Prov.  xxx.  12.  They  that 
are  washed,  are  still  bewailing  that  they 
ajain  contract  so  much  defilement.  The 
most  purified  Christians  are  they  that  are 
most  sensible  of  their  impurity.  Therefore  I 
called  not  this  a  universal  freedom  from  pol- 
lution, but  a  universal  deiesiaiion  of  it.  They 
that  are  thus  pure,  are  daily  defiled  with  many 
sins,  but  they  can  not  be  in  love  with  any  sin 
at  all,  nor  do  they  willingly  dispense  with  the 
smallest  sins,  which  a  natural  man  either  sees 
not  to  be  sin  (though  his  dim  moonlight  dis- 
cover grosser  evils),  or,  if  he  do  not  see  them, 
yet  he  judges  it  too  much  niceness  to  choose 
a  great  inconvenience  rather  than  a  little  sin. 
Again,  they  differ  in  anotiier  particular:  a  nat- 
ural man  may  be  so  far  in  love  with  virtue 
after  his  manner,  as  to  dislike  his  own  faults, 
and  resolve  to  amend  them  ;  but  yet  he  would 
think  it  a  great  weakness  to  sit  down  and 
mourn  for  sin,  and  to  afflict  his  soul,  as  the 
Scripture  speaks.  The  Christian's  repent- 
ance  goes  not  so  lightly  ;  there  is  a  great  deal 
more  work  in  it.  There  is  not  only  mdigna- 
tton  against  impurity,  but  it  proceeds  to  re- 
venae,  2  Cor.  vii.  1 1.  The  saints  we  read  of 
in  Scripture,  were  ashamed  of  their  impurity, 
but  never  of  their  tears  for  it.  Let  the  world 
enjoy  their  own  thoughts,  and  account  it  fol- 
ly, yet  -surely  the  Christian  who  delights  in 
purity,  seeing  he  can  not  be  free  from  daily 
sin,  when  he  retires  himself  at  night,  is  then 
best  contented  when  his  eyes  serve  him  most 
plentifully  to  weep  out  the  stains  of  the  by- 
past  day  ;  yet  he  knows  withal  that  it  is  only 
bis  Redeemer's  blood  that  takes  away  the 
guilt  of  them.    This  is  the  condition  of  those 


that  are  truly,  though  not  fully  cleansed  from 
the  pollutions  of  the  world  by  the  Spirit  of 
wisdom  and  purity.    WJial  mean  they,  then, 
who  would  argue  themselves  out  of  this  num- 
ber, because  they  find  yet  much  dross  left,  and 
that  they  are  not  so  defecated  and  refined  as 
they  would  wish  to  be  ?    On  the  contrary, 
this  hatred  of  pollution  testifies  strongly  that 
the  contrary  o[ h,  jiurit  i/,  is  there  :  and  though 
its  beginnings  be  small,  doubt  not,  it  shall  in 
the  end  be  victorious.    The  smoking  of  this 
fax  shows  indeed  that  there  is  gross  matter 
there,  but  it  witnesseth  likewise  that  there  is 
fire  in  it  too,  and  though  it  be  little,  we  have 
Christ's  own  word  for  it,  that  it  shall  not  be 
quenched  ;  and  if  he  favor  it,  no  other  power 
shall  be  able  to  quench  it.    You  find  not,  in- 
1  deed,  absolute  holiness  in  your  persons,  nor  in 
[  your  best  performances,  yet,  if  you  breathe 
and  follow  after  it,  if  the  pulse  of  the  heart 
,  beat  thus,  if  the  main  current  of  your  affec- 
I  tions  be  toward  purity,  if  sin  be  in  you  as 
1  your  disease  and  greatest  grief,  and  not  as 
vour  delight,  then,  take  courage:  you  are  as 
pure  as  travellers  can  be  ;  and  notwithstand- 
ing that  impure  spirit,  Satan,  and  the  impu- 
rity of  your  own  spirits,  vex  you  daily  with 
temptations,  and  often  foil  you,  yet,  in  de- 
I  spite  of  them  all,  you  shall  arrive  safe  at  home 
;  where  perfection  dwells. 

The  ivisdom  from  above  is  pure.]  Be  asham- 
ed, then,  of  your  extreme  folly,  you  that  take 
pleasure  in  any  kind  of  uncleanness.  Espe- 
cially, seeing  God  hath  reformed  and  purged 
his  house  among  us,  you  that  are,  or  should 
be,  his  living  temples,  remain  not  uiireformed. 
If  you  do,  church-reformation  wili  be  so  far 
from  profiting  you,  that  as  a  clearer  light,  it 
will  but  serve  to  make  your  impurity  both 
more  visible  and  more  inexcusable.  If  you 
mean  that  the  Holy  Ghosi  should  dwell  with 
you,  entertain  him,  avoiding  both  spiritual 
and  fleshly  pollutions.  The  word  he  used 
doth  more  particularly  signify  chastity  ;  and 
certainly,  wherever  this  wisdom  from  ahove 
is,  this  comely  grace  is  one  of  her  attendants 
Whatever  any  have  been  in  times  past,  let 
all  be  persuaded  henceforth  to  mortify  all 
lustful  and  carnal  affections.  Know  thai 
there  is  more  true  and  lasting  pleasure  in  the 
contempt  of  unlawful  pleasures,  than  in  ihe 
enjoyment  of  them.  Grieve  not,  then,  thff 
good  Spirit  of  God  with  actions  or  speeches. 
1  yea,  or  with  thoughts  that  are  impure.  The 
unholy  soul,  like  the  mystical  Babylon,  makes 
I  itself  a  cage  of  unclean  birds,  and  a  habita- 
i  tion  of  filthy  spirits  ;  and  if  it  continues  to  be 
I  such,  it  must,  when  it  dislodges,  take  up  ita 
habitation  with  cursed  spirits  lor  ever  in  uttei 
I  darkness.  But  as  for  those  that  are  sincerely 
and  affectionately  pure,  that  is,  pure  m  heart 
our  Savior  hath  pronounced  their  begun  hap- 
piness— Blessed  are  t^ey  that  are  pure  in 
/icari, 'and  assured  them  of  full  haiiiiiness  — 
for  they  shall  see  God.  This  wisdom  is  sent 
from  heaven  on  purpose  to  guide  the  elect 
thiiher  by  the  way  of  purity.  And  mark  how 


446 


THE  PATIENT  AND  DOCILE  SUFFERER. 


[Ser.  n. 


well  thoir  reward  is  suited  to  their  labor! — 
their  frequent  conteniplalina;  and  beholding 
of  God's  |)urity  as  they  could,  while  thev 
were  on  their  journey,  and  their  laborint;  to 
be  like  liiin,  siiall  brinff  them  to  sit  down  in 
glory,  and  to  be  for  ever  the  pure  beholders 
of  tiuU  purest  object.  They  shall  sec  God. 
What  this  is,  we  can  nut  tell  vou,  nor  can 
you  conceive  it ;  but  walk  heavenward  in  pu- 
rity, and  long  to  be  there,  where  you  shall 
know  what  it  means  :  For  you  shall  see  him 
as  he  is. 

Now  to  that  blessed  Trinity  be  praise  for 
IV  r  ! 


SERMON  II. 

THE  PATIENT  AND  DOCILE  SUFFERER. 

I  irill  return  to  my  place,  snhh  the  Lord  by 
his  prophet,  till  they  acknnwled  trc  their  of- 
fence, and  seek  my  face.  In  their  affliction 
they  will  seek  me  early.  Hos.  v.  15.  The  Fa-  ' 
ther  of  mercies  hides  himself  from  his  chil- 
dren, not  to  lose  them,  but  that  they  may  seek  j 
him,  and  may  learn,  having  found  him,  to 
keep  closer  by  him  than  formerly.  He  threat- 
ens them,  to  keep  them  from  punishment:  if 
his  threatening  work  submission,  it  is  well  ; 
if  not,  he  punishes  them  gently,  to  sdve  them 
from  destruction.  He  seeks  no  more  but  that 
they  acknowledge  their  offence,  and  seek  his 
face.  Wonderful  clemency  !  For  who  can 
forbear  to  confess  multitudes  of  ofi'enccs,  who 
know  themselves?  And  who  can  choose  but 
seek  thy  face,  who  ever  saw  thy  face,  and 
who  know  thee?  In  their  affliction  ihey  will 
seek  me  early.  He  that  prays  not  till  affliction 
comes  and  forces  h\m  to  it,  is  very  slothful  ; 
but  he  that  prays  not  in  affliction,  is  altogeth- 
er senseless.  Certainly,  they  that  at  this 
time  are  not  more  than  ordinarily  fervent  in 
prayer,  or  do  not  at  least  desire  and  strive  to 
be  so,  can  not  well  think  that  there  is  any 
spiritual  life  within  them.  Surely  it  is  high 
lime  to  stir  up  ourselves  to  prayers  and  tears. 
All  may  bear  arms  in  that  kind  of  service. 
Weak  women  may  be  strong  in  prayer  :  and 
those  tears  wherein  they  usually  abound  upon 
other  occasions,  can  not  be  so  well  spent  as 
this  way.  Let  them  not  run  out  in  bowlings 
and  impatience,  but  brins  them,  by  bewailing 
sins,  private  as  well  as  public,  to  quench  this 
public  fire.  And,  ye  men,  yea,  ye  men  of 
courage,  account  it  no  disparagement  thus 
to  weep.  We  read  often  of  David's  tears, 
which  were  no  slain  to  his  valor.  That  cloud 
which  hangs  over  us,  which  the  frequent  va- 
pors of  our  sins  have  made,  except  it  dissolve 
and  fiill  down  again  in  these  sweet  showers  of 
godly  tears,  is  certainly  reserved  to  be  the  mat- 
ter of  a  dreadful  storm.  Be  instant,  every  one, 
in  secret,  for  the  averting  of  this  wrath,  and 
et  us  now  again  unite  the  cries  of  our  beans 
for  ih  s  purpose  to  our  compassionate  God,  in 


the  name  and  mediation  of  his  Son,  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ. 

Job  xxxtv.  31,  32. 

Surely  it  is  meet  to  l)e  siiiil  unto  Goi],  I  have  borne 
chastisement.  I  wiJl  nnl  ntFend  any  more. 

That  which  1  see  no;.,  teach  thou  me  :  if  1  have  done 
iniquity,  I  will  do  no  more. 

The  great  sin,  as  well  as  the  great  misery 
of  man,  is,  the  forgettina:  of  God  ;  and  the 
great  end  and  use  of  his  works  and  of  his 
word,  is,  to  teach  us  the  right  remem- 
brance and  consideration  of  hitn  in  all  esi- 
tates.  These  words  do  particularly  instruct 
us  in  the  application  of  our  thoughts  tow- 
ard him  in  the  time  of  affliction.  The  short- 
ness and  the  various  signification  of  the 
words  used  in  the  original,  give  occasion  to 
some  other  readings  and  another  sense  of 
them.  But  this  we  have  in  our  translation, 
being  not  only  very  profitable,  but  very  con- 
gruous, both  to  the  words  of  the  primitive 
text,  and  to  the  contexture  of  the  discourse,  I 
shall  keep toit,  without  dividing  your  thoughts 
by  the  mentioning  of  any  other.  Neither  will 
I  lead  you  so  far  about,  as  to  s]ieak  of  the 
great  dispute  of  this  book,  and  the  question 
about  it  which  is  held.  He  that  speaks  here, 
though  the  youngest  of  the  company,  yc*  as 
a  wise  and  calm-spirited  man,  closes  all  with 
a  discourse  of  excellent  temper,  and  full  of 
grave,  useful  instructions,  among  which  this 
is  one. 

Surely  it  is  meet  to  he  said  {or  spoken)  to 
God.]  This  speaking  to  God,  though  it  may 
be  vocal,  yet  it  is  not  necessarily  nor  chiefly 
so,  but  is  always  mainly,  and  may  often  be 
only,  mental  :  without  this,  the  words  of  the 
mouth,  how  well  chosen  and  well  expressed 
soever  they  be,  are  to  God  of  no  account  or 
signification  at  all.  But  if  the  heart  speak, 
even  when  there  is  not  a  word  in  the  mouth,' 
it  is  that  he  hearkens  to,  and  regards  that 
speech,  though  made  by  a  voice  that  none 
hears  but  he,  and  in  a  language  that  none 
understands  but  he. 

But  it  is  a  rare,  unfrequent  thing,  this  com- 
muning of  the  heart  with  God,  speaking  its 
thoughts  to  him  concerning  itself,  and  con- 
cerning him,  and  his  dealings  with  it,  and 
the  purposes  and  intentions  it  hath  toward 
him — which  is  the  speech  here  recommend- 
ed, and  is  that  Divine  exercise  of  mediiation 
and  soliloquy  of  the  soul  with  itself  and  with 
God,  hearkening  what  the  Lord  God  speaks 
to  us  within  us,  and  our  hearts  eclioing  and 
resounding  his  words  (as  Psalm  xxvii.  8,  9), 
and  opening  to  him  our  thoughts  of  them  and 
of  ourselves.  Thou.<^h  they  stand  open,  and 
he  sees  them  all,  even  when  we  tell  him  not 
of  them,  yet,  because  he  loves  us,  he  loves 
to  hear  them  of  our  own  speaking  :  Let  me 
hear  thy  voice,  for  it  is  sweet;  as  a  father 
delights  in  the  little  stammering,  lisping-  lan- 
guage of  his  beloved  child.  And  if  lije  re- 
flex affection  of  children  be  in  us,  we  shall 
love  also  to  speak  with  our  Father,  and  to 


Job  xxxiv.  31,  32.]     THE  1  j^TIENT  AND  DOCILE  SUFFERER. 


447 


ell  him  all  our  mind  and  to  be  often  with 
him  in  the  entertainments  of  our  secret 
thoughts. 

But  the  mosttf  men  are  little  within:  ei- 
ther they  wear  out  their  hours  in  vain  dis- 
course with  others,  or  possibly  vainer  dis- 
courses with  themselves.  Even  those  who 
are  not  of  the  worst  sort,  and  who,  possibly, 
have  their  times  of  secret  prayer,  yet  do  not 
so  delight  to  think  of  God,  and  to  speak  with 
him,  as  they  do  to  be  conversant  in  other  af- 
fairs, and  companies,  and  discourses,  in  which 
there  is  a  great  deal  of  froth  and  emptiness. 
Men  tliink,  by  talking  of  many  things,  to  be 
refreshed  ;  and  yet,  when  they  have  done, 
find  ihat  it  is  nothing,  and  that  they  had 
much  better  have  been  alone,  or  have  said 
nothing.  Our  thoughts  and  speeches,  in 
most  things,  run  to  wa,'=te,  yea,  are  defiled  ; 
as  water  spilt  on  the  ground  is  both  lost,  and 
can  not  be  gathered  up  again,  and  is  pollut- 
ed, mingled  with  dust.  But  no  word  spoken 
to  God,  from  the  serious  sense  of  a  holy 
heart,  is  lost :  he  receives  it,  and  returns  it 
into  our  bosom  with  advantase.  A  soul  that 
delights  to  speak  to  him,  will  find  that  he 
also  delights  to  speak  to  it.  And  this  com- 
munication, certainly,  is  the  sweetest  and 
happiest  choice  ;  to  speak  little  with  men, 
and  much  with  God.  One  short  word,  such 
as  tliis  here,  spoken  to  God  in  a  darted 
thought,  eases  the  heatt  more  when  it  is  af- 
flicied,  than  the  largest  discourses  and  com- 
plainings to  the  greatest  and  powerfullest  of 
men,  or  the  kindest  and  most  friendly.  Ii 
gives  not  only  ease,  but  joy,  to  say  to  God,  I 
have  sinned,  yvl  I  am  tinne  ;  or,  as  here,  I 
have  borne  c/iaslisemenl,  I  will  no  more  of- 
fend.  The  time  of  affliction  is  peculiarly  a 
time  of  speaking  to  God ;  and  such  speech 
as  this  is  peculiarly  befitting  such  a  time. 
And  this  is  one  great  recommendation  of  af- 
fliction, that  it  is  a  time  of  wiser  and  more 
sober  thoughts — a  time  of  the  returning  of 
the  mind  inward  and  upward.  A  high  place, 
fulness  and  pleasure,  draw  the  mind  more 
outward.  Great  lii^ht  and  white  colors  dis- 
sipaie  the  sight  of  the  eye,  and  the  very 
thoughts  (jf  the  mind  too  ;  and  men  find  that 
the  nighl  is  a  fitter  season  for  deep  thoughts. 
It  is  huller,  says  Solomon,  to  to  the  house 
of  rnournui'j;  than  to  thr.  house  of  f<;rtstin<r. 
Those  blacks  made  the  mind  more  serious. 
It  is  a  rare  thing  to  find  much  retirement  un- 
to God,  much  humility  and  brokenness  of 
spirit,  true  purity  and  spirituality  of  heart, 
in  the  alllueiice  and  great  prosperities  of  the 
world.  It  is  no  easy  thing  to  carry  a  very 
full  cup  even,  and  to  digest  well  the  fatness 
of  a  great  estate  and  great  place.  They  are 
not  to  be  envied  who  have  them:  even 
though  they  be  of  the  better  sort  of  men,  it 
is  a  thousand  to  one  but  they  shall  be  losers 
by  tiie  gains  and  advancements  of  this  world, 
suffering  proportioiiably  great  abatements  of 
their  best  advantages,  by  their  i)rosperity. 
The  generality  of  men,  while  they  are  at 


lease,  do  securely  neglect  God,  and  little  mind 
I  either  to  speak  to  him,  or  to  hear  him  speak 
j  to  them.  God  complains  thus  of  his  own 
people:  I  spoke  to  them  in  their  prosperity, 
and  they  ivould  not  hear.  The  noises  of 
coach-wheels,  of  their  pleasures,  and  of  their 
great  affairs,  so  fill  their  ears,  that  the  still 
voice  wherein  God  is,  can  not  be  heard. 
will  bring;  her  into  the  wilderness,  and  there 
I  will  speak  to  her  heart,  says  God  ot  hi? 
church.  There  the  heart  is  more  at  quiet  to 
hear  God,  and  to  speak  to  him,  and  is  dis- 
posed to  speak  in  the  style  here  prescribed, 
humbly  and  repentingly. 

I  have  home  chfistise/nenl.]  The  speaking 
this  unto  God  under  affliction  signifies,  that 
our  affliction  is  from  his  hand  :  and  to  the 
acknowledgment  of  this  truth,  the  very  nat- 
ural consciences  of  men  do  incline  them. 
Though  trouble  be  the  general  lot  of  man- 
kind, vet  it  doth  not  come  on  him  by  an  im- 
providential  fatality  :  though  man  is  born  to 
trouble  as  the  sparks  fij  upward,  yet  it  comes 
not  out  of  the  dust.  Job  v.  G,  7.  It  is  no  less 
true,  and  in  itself  no  less  clear,  that  all  tlie 
good  we  enjoy,  and  all  the  evil  we  suffer, 
1  come  from  the  same  Hand  ;  but  we  are  nat- 
j  urally  more  sensible  of  evil  than  of  gotxl, 
and  therefore  do  more  readily  reflect  upon 
the  original  and  causes  of  it.  Our  distresses 
lead  us  to  the  notice  of  the  righteous  God  in- 
flicting them,  and  of  our  own  unrighteous 
ways  procuring  them,  and  provoking  hini  so 
to  do  :  and  therefore  it  is  meet  to  speak  in 
this  subinissive,  humble  language  to  him.  It 
is  by  all  means  necessary  to  sprak  to  him. 
He  is  the  party  we  have  to  deal  witiial,  or  to 
speak  to,  even  in  those  afflictions  whereof 
men  are  the  intervenicni  visible  causes.  They 
are,  indeed,  but  instrumental  causes,  the  rod 
and  staff  in  his  hand  who  smites  us  ;  there- 
fore our  business  is  with  him,  in  whose  Su- 
preme Hand  alone  the  mitigations  and  in- 
j  creases,  the  continuance  and  the  ending,  of 
[  our  troubles  lie.  Who  gave  Jacob  to  the 
spoil,  and  Israel  to  the  robbers  ?  Did  not  ' 
the  Lord,  against  whom  ire  have  sinned  ? 
\  Isa.  xlii.  24.  So,  Lam.  i.  14,  The  yoke  of 
my  transgressions  is  hound  on  hy  his  hand. 
Therefore,  it  is  altogether  necessary  iii  all 
afllictions  to  speak  to  him.  And  as  it  is  neces- 
sary to  speak  to  him,  so  it  is  meet  to  speak 
thus  to  him.,  I  have  borne  chastisement,  I  will 
no  more  offend.  These  words  have  in  them 
the  true  composition  of  real  repentance,  hum- 
ble submission  and  holy  resolution.  J  have 
borne  chastisement — that  is,  I  have  justly 
borne  it,  and  do  heartily  submit  to  it ;  I  beai 
it  justly,  and  take  it  well  ;  Lord,  1  ac(jiiit 
thee,  and  accuse  myself.  This  language  be- 
comes the  most  innocent  persons  in  the  world 
in  their  suffering.  Job  knew  it  well,  and  did 
often  acknowledge  it  in  his  jireceding  speech- 
es. Though  sometime*,  in  the  heat  of  dis- 
pute, and  in  opposition  to  the  unciiarilable 
and  unjust  imputations  of  his  friends,  he 
seems  to  overstrain  the  assertion  of  his  owti 


/ 


*48  THE  PATIENT  AND 

integrity  (which  Elihu  here  corrects),  you 
know  lie  cries  out,  /  hnvc  sinned  against 
thee:  u/ial  s/ui/l  I  do  unto  thee,  O  thou  pre- 
sert-er  of  men  ?  Job  vii.  20.  And  chap.  ix. 
30,  If  I  wash  myself  with  snow-rvntcr,  and 
make  mi/  hands  never  so  dean,  ijct  sha/t  thou 
ji/unixe  me  in  the  ditch,  and  mine  own  clothes 
shall  abhor  me. 

Vain,  foolish  persons  fret  and  foam  at  the 
miscarriage  of  a  cause  they  apprehend  to  be 
riffhteoiis;  but  this  is  a  great  vaniiy  and  in- 
considerate tenuriiy  in  not  observing  thegreat 
and  apparent  unrighteousness  in  the  persons 
managing  it.  But  thougli  both  the  cause  and 
the  persons  were  just  to  tlie  greatest  height 
imaginable  among  men,  yet  still  were  it 
meet  to  speak  thus  unto  God  in  the  lowest 
acknowledgments  and  confessions,  thatr( 
ousness  belongs  unto  him,  and  unto  us  shame 
and  Confusion  of  face.  So  says  the  Church, 
Lan).  iii.  The  Lord  is  righteous,  for  I  have 
rebelled  against  his  commandments.  Though 
affliction  is  not  always  designedly  intended  as 
the  chastisement  of  some  particular  sin,  yet, 
where  sin  is  (and  that  is  the  case  of  all  the 
sons  of  Adam),  affliction  coming  in,  may  safe- 
ly be  considered  in  its  natural  cognation  and 
alliance  with  sin,  and  so  press  forth  humble 
confessions  of  sin,  and  resolutions  against  it. 
And  thus  in  Lev.  xxvi.  41,  They  shall  accept 
of  the  punishment  of  their  iniijutty  ;  shall 
take  it  humbly  and  penitently,  and  kiss  the 
rod. 

Oh,  that  there  were  such  a  heart  in  us ! — 
that,  instead  of  empty  words,  that  scatter 
themselves  in  the  wind,  our  tnany  vain  dis- 
courses we  hold  one  with  another,  concern- 
ing our  past  and  jiiesent  sufferings,  and  fur- 
ther fears,  and  disputing  of  many  fruitless 
and  endless  questions,  we  were  more  abun- 
dantly turning  our  speech  this  way,  in  unto 
God,  and  saying,  We  desire  to  give  thee  glo- 
ry, and  to  lake  shame  to  ourselves,  and  to 
bear  our  chastisement,  and  to  off  end  no  more  ; 
to  return  each  from  his  evil  way  ;  and  to  gain 
this  by  the  furnace,  the  purging  away  of  our 
dross — our  many  great  iniquities — our  oaths 
and  cursings,  and  lying — our  deceit,  and  op- 
pressions, and  pride,  and  eovetousness — our 
base  love  of  ourselves  and  hating  one  anoth- 
er— that  we  may  be  delivered  i'rom  the  tyran- 
ny of  our  own  lusts  and  passions  :  and,  in 
other  things,  let  the  Lord  do  with  us  as 
seems  good  in  his  eyes.  Oh,  that  we  were 
speaking  to  God  in  Ephraim's  words,  Jer. 
xxxi.  18,  19,  20:  Thou  hast  chastised  me,  and 
I  was  chastised  :  Turn  thoH  me,  and  I  shall  be 
turned,  &c.  :  words  not  unlike  these  would 
Stir  his  bowels,  as  there:  as  it  is  said,  that 
one  string  perfectly  tuned  to  another,  being 
touched,  the  other  stirs  of  itself.  When  a 
stubborn  child  leaves  struggling  under  the 
rod,  and  turns  to  entreating,  the  father  then 
leaves  olf  striking  :  nothing  overcomes  him 
but  that.  When  a  man  says  unto  God,  "  Fa- 
ther, 1  have  provoked  thee  to  this  ;  but  pardon, 
»ud  through  (hy  grace  I  will  do  so  no  more  ; 


DOCILE  SUFFERER.  [Rer.  II 

I  then  the  rod  is  thrown  aside,  and  the  Fathet 

\  of  mercies  and  his  humbled  child  fall  to  mu 

I  tual  tenderness  and  embraces. 

What  1  see  not,  teach  thou  me.]    The  great 

[article  of  conversion  is,  the  disengagement  of 
the  heart  from  the  love  of  sin.    In  that  pos- 

[  ture,  as  it  actually  I'orsakes  whats'jever  it  per- 
ceives to  be  amiss,  so  it  stands  in  an  absolute 
readiness  to  return  to  every  duty  that  yet  lies 
hidden,  upon  the  first  discovery.  That  is 
here  the  genuine  voice  of  a  repentant  sinner, 
What  I  see  not,  teach  thou  7nc  :  if  I  have 
done  iniquity,  I  will  do  no  more. 

This  is  a  very  necessary  supplication,  even 

;  for  the  most  discerning  and  clearest-sighted 
penitent,  both  in  reierence  to  the  command- 
ment and  rule  for  discovering  the  general  na- 
ture and  several  kinds  of  sin,  and  withal  for 
the  application  of  this  general  light  to  the 
examination  of  a  man's  own  heart  and  ways, 
that  so  htj  may  have  a  more  exact  and  partic- 
ular account  of  his  own  sins. 

I  The  former  part  of  the  petition  is  for  the 
knowledge  of  the  law  of  God,  as  the  rule  by 
which  a  man  is  to  try  and  to  judge  himself. 
The  most  knowing  are  not  above  the  need 
of  this  request ;  yea,  I  am  persuaded,  the 
most  knowing  know  best  how  much  they 
need  it,  and  are  most  humbled  in  themselves 
in  the  conscience  of  their  ignorance  and  dark- 
ness in  divine  things,  and  are  most  earnest 
and  pressing  in  this  daily  supplication  for  in- 
creases of  light  and  spiritual  knowledge  from 
him  who  is  the  fountain  of  it :  What  I  see  not, 
teach  thou  me.  On  the  other  side,  the  least 
knowing  are  often  the  most  confident  that 

I  they  know  all,  and  swelled  with  a  conceited 
sufficiency  of  their  model  and  determination 
of  all  things,  both  dogmatical  and  practical  ; 
and  therefore  are  they  the  most  imperious  and 
magisterial  in  their  conclusions,  and  the  most 
impatient  of  contradiction,  or  even  of  the  most 
modest  dissent. 

The  wisest  and  holiest  persons  speak  al- 

!  ways  in  the  humblest  and  most  depressing 

j  style  of  their  own  knowledge,  and  that  not 

'  with  an  affectation  of  modesty,  but  under  a 
real  sense  of  the  thing  as  it  is,  and  the  sin- 
cere account  they  give  of  it,  and  that  com- 
monly when  they  are  declaring  themselves 

j  most  solemnly,  as  in  the  sight  of  God,  or 
speaking  in  supplication  to  him  with  whom 
they  dare  least  of  all  dissemble.  Whoso- 

I  ever  he  was  that  spake  those  words,  in  the 
thirtieth  chapter  of  Proverbs,  surely  he  was 

!  a  man  of  eminent  wisdom  and  piety,  and  yet 
he  begins  thus:  Surely  I  arn  more  brutish 
than  any  man,  and  have  not  the  understand- 

\  ing  of  a  man  ;  I  have  jieither  learned  wis- 
dom, nor  have  J  the  knowledge  of  the  Holy. 

!  And  though  he  was  so  diligent  a  student,  and 

'  so  great  a  proficient  in  the  law  of  God,  yet, 

j  how  importunate  a  petitioner  is  be  for  the 
understanding  of  it,  as  if  he  knew  nothing  at 
all  !  Besides  the  like  expressions  in  other 
pf^lms,  in  that  one  psalm  [the  cxix.J,  which, 

1  although  of  such  length,  hath  nothing  b'jt  lliu 


Job  xxxlv.  31,  32.]       THE  PATIENT  AND  DOCILE  SUFFERER. 


449 


breathing  forth  of  his  affection  to  the  word 
and  law  of  God,  how  often  doth  David  in  it 
reiterate  that  petition,  Teach  me  thy  statutes  ! 
— so  often,  that  a  carnal  mind  is  tempted  to 
grow  weary  of  it,  as  a  nauseating  tautology  ; 
but  he  made  it  still  new  with  the  freshness 
and  vehemency  of  his  aflTection  :  Make  me  to 
understand  the  way  of  thy  precepts — Give  me 
understanding,  and  J  shall  keep  thy  law — and 
open  thou  mine  eyes,  that  I  may  see  the  won- 
ders of  thy  law — unseal  mine  eyes,  as  if  they 
were  still  veiled  and  dark.  These  are  the 
earnest  and  nobly  ambitious  desires  that  daily 
solicit  holy  hearts,  and  stir  them  up  to  solicit 
the  Teacher  of  hearts  to  be  admitted  more 
into  the  secrets  and  recesses  of  divine  knowl- 
edge ;  not  to  those  abysses  that  God  intends 
should  be  secret  still,  and  from  which  he 
hath  barred  out  our  curiosity,  as  the  forbid- 
den tree  of  knowledge,  those  secrets  that  be- 
long to  himself  alone,  and  concern  us  not  to 
inquire  after.  And  certainly,  to  be  wading 
in  those  deeps,  is  the  way  to  be  drowned  in 
ihem.  The  searcher  of  majesty  shall  he  op- 
vrcssed  with  glory.  Yet  there  is  in  man  a 
perverse,  preposterous  desire  to  pore  upon 
such  things  as  are  on  purpose  hidden  that  we 
should  not  inquire  after  them,  and  to  seek  af- 
ter useless,  empty  speculations  of  them, 
which  is  a  luxury  and  intemperance  of  the 
understanding,  like  unto  that,  and  spring- 
ing from  that,  which  at  first  undid  us  in  the 
root.  These  are  limes  full  of  those  empty, 
airy  questicns,  and  notions  in  which  there  is 
no  clearness  nor  certainly  to  be  attained,  and 
if  it  were,  yet  it  would  serve  to  little  or  no  1 
purpose,  not  making  the  man  who  thinks  he  i 
hath  found  them  out,  one  jot  the  belter  or  ho- 
lier man  than  he  was  before.  What  avails  it, 
says  a  devout  author,  to  dispute  and  discourse 
high  concerning  the  Trinity,  and  want  humil- 
ity, and  so  displease  that  Trinity?  The 
light  and  knowledge  suited  according  to  the  1 
intendment  of  this  copy,  is  of  nature,  such  as  i 
purifies  the  heart  and  rectifies  the  life.  What 
I  see  not,  teach  thou  me  ;  that  is,  of  such 
things  as  may  serve  this  end,  that  if  1  have 
done  mii/uity,  1  may  do  it  no  more.  This  is 
sound  and  solid  knowledge,  such  a  light  as 
inflames  the  heart  with  the  love  of  God  and 
of  the  beauties  of  holiness,  and  still,  as  it 
grows,  makes  those  to  grow  likewise.  Such 
are  still,  we  see,  David's  multiplied  supplica- 
tions in  that  cxix.  Psalm  :  not  to  know  resi-rv- 
ed  and  useless  things,  bui.  Hide  not  thy  com- 
mandments from  me.  Thi/  hands  have  made 
me  and  fashioned  me:  now,  what  is  it  that 
thy  creature  and  wtjrkmanship  begs  of  thee  ?  \ 
What  is  that  which  will  complete  my  being 
and  make  me  do  honor  to  my  Maker  ?  This 
is  It — Give  me  understanding,  that  I  may 
learn  thy  commandments.  I 
You  that  would  be  successful  supplicants  in  ' 
this  request,  wean  your  hearts  from  that  van- 
ity of  desire:  such  knowledge  as  is  the  cy- 
press-tree, fair  and  tall,  but  fruitless  and  sap- 
less. Apply  all  you  know,  to  the  purging 
57 


out  of  sin,  and  intend  all  the  further  knowl- 
edse  you  desire,  to  that  same  end.  Seek  to 
be  acquainted  with  higher  rules  of  mortifica- 
tion, and  self-denial,  and  charity,  than  as  yet 
you  have  either  practised,  or  possibly  so  much 
as  thought  on  :  that  by  these,  your  affections 
and  actions  may  be  advanced  to  greater  de- 
grees of  purity,  and  conformity  with  the  ho- 
liness of  God.  And  for  this  end,  beg  of  him 
to  teach  you  what  yon  see  not  in  the  exact- 
ness of  the  law  and  rule  :  and  withal  (which 
is  the  other  thing  in  this  word),  that,  what 
you  see  not  in  the  application  of  it  and  search 
of  yourself,  he  would  likewise  show  you  ;  for 
in  that,  we  are  commonly  as  undiscerning 
and  dimsighted  as  in  the  other.  Even  where 
men  have  some  notion  of  the  rule  and  their 
duty,  yet  they  perceive  not  their  own,  eve*^ 
their  gross  recessions  and  declinlngs  from  i 
Love  is  a  blinding  thing,  and  above  all  lovi , 
self-love  ;  and  every  man  is  naturally  his  own 
flatterer:  he  deals  not  faithfully  and  sincere- 
ly with  himself  in  the  search  of  his  own  evils. 
Now  this  we  are  to  entreat  of  God,  to  be  led 
into  ourselves,  and  to  be  applied  to  the  work 
of  sell-searching,  by  his  own  hand;  not  only 
to  have  a  right  apprehension  of  the  law  giv- 
en us,  but  a  true  sight  of  ourselves.  Oh  ! 
how  many  hidden,  undiscerned,  yea,  unsus- 
pected impurities  and  follies  are  there  in  the 
hearts  of  those  who  are  the  most  diligent  in 
this  incjuiry,  much  more  in  the  greater  part, 
even  of  such  as  can  not  absolutely  be  denied 
the  name  of  good  men  !  Some  honest  inten- 
tions and  good  desires  there  are  in  them  ;  but 
they  are  slothful  and  unwilling  to  go  into  this 
painlul  business  of  trying  and  judging  them- 
selves, and  when  they  set  to  it,  many  secret 
corners,  and,  in  those,  many  latent  corrup- 
tions do  escape  their  search.  Cleanse  ?ne 
from  secret  faults,  says  David  ;  that  is,  not 
only  from  those  hidden  from  men,  but  even 
from  myself,  as  is  clearly  his  meaning,  by  the 
words  preceding.  Who  knows  the  errors  of 
his  life  i  Therefore  is  it  necessary  that  we 
desire  light  of  God.  The  spirit  of  a  man  is 
the  candle  of  the  /,or^/,  says  Solomon,  search- 
ing the  innermost  parts  of  the  belly  ;  but  it  in 
a  candle  unlighted,  when  he  does  not  illumi- 
nate it  for  that  search.  Oh  !  what  a  deal  of 
vanity  and  love  of  this  world,  envy  and  secret 
pride,  lurks  in  many  of  our  hearts,  which  we 
do  not  at  all  perceive,  till  God  causeth  us  to 
see  it,  leading  us  in,  as  he  did  the  prophet 
Ezekiel  in  the  vision,  to  see  the  idolatry  of 
the  Jews  in  his  very  temple,  by  which  they 
had  provoked  him  to  forsake  it,  and  go  far 
from  his  sanctuary  :  and  having  discovered 
one  parcel,  leads  him  in  farther,  and  makes 
him  enter  through  the  wall,  and  adds  often, 
^on  of  man  hast  thou  seen  these  ?  I  will 
cause  thee  to  see  yet  more  abominations,  and 
yet  jnore  abominations.  Thus  it  is  within 
many  of  us  who  should  be  his  temples,  but 
we  have  a  multitude  of  images  of  jealousy, 
one  lying  hid  behind  another,  till  i)c  thus  dis- 
covers them  to  us.     Oh,  what  need  have  w 


I5( 


THE  DIVINE  GLORY  OF  SION. 


[Ser.  IIL 


to  entreat  him  tluis,  What  J  sec  not,  leach 
thnu  me  .' 

Now,  in  boih  these,  Initii  in  the  Icnowlediie 
of  our  rule  ami  DlOurseives,  ihdUiili  there  may 
be  some  useful  subservienev  of  the  ministry  of 
men,  yet,  the  irreai  Teacher  u*'the  true  ki  owl- 
ed<re  of  his  law,  and  of  himself,  and  of  (jur- 
Belves,  is  God.  Men  may  speak  to  tlie  ear, 
but  his  chair  is  in  heaven  who  teaches  hearts  : 
calhedrnm  habet  in  coe/o.  MatchlessTeacher  ! 
who  leacheth  more  in  one  hour  than  men 
can  do  in  a  whole  ajje,  who  can  cure  the  in- 
vincible untcachableness  of  the  dullest  heart, 
^ive  vn(lersiaii(lin>r  to  the  simple,  and  open 
the  eyes  of  the  hirnd  !  So  then,  would  we  he 
made  wise,  wise  for  eternity,  learned  in  real,  ^ 
livin<r  divinity,  let  us  sit  down  at  his  feet,  and 
make  this  our  continual  request,  What  I  see 
not,  teaeh  thov  me  f  i 

If  I  have  done  iniquity.]  That  is,  any  in-  \ 
iquity  that  I  yet  know  not  of,  any  hidden  sin,  i 
let  me  but  once  see  it,  and,  I  hope,  thou  shall  ' 
see  it  no  more  wiihin  me  ;  not  willingly 
lodged  and  entertained.  This  speaks  an  en- 
tire, to^al  givina  up  of  all  sin,  and  is  a  pro- 
claiming of  utter  defiance  and  enmity  against 
it  :  casting  out  what  is  already  found  out, 
without  delay,  and  resolving  that  still  in  fur- 
ther search,  as  ii  shall  be  more  discovered. 
It  shall  be  forthwith  dislodged,  without  a 
thought  of  sparing  or  partial  indulgence  to 
anything  that  is  sin,  or  that  is  like  it,  or  that 
may  any  way  befriend  it,  or  be  an  occasion 
and  incentive  of  it.  This  is  that  absolute  re- 
nouncing of  sin,  and  surrender  of  the  whole 
soul  and  our  whole  selves  to  God,  which  who- 
soever do  not  heartily  consent  to  and  resolve 
on,  their  religion  is  in  vain,  and  (which  is 
here  the  point)  their  affliction  is  in  vain  : 
whatsoever  they  have  suffered,  they  have 
gained  nothing  by  all  their  sufferings,  if  their 
hearts  remain  still  self-willed,  stubborn,  un- 
tamed, and  unpliable,  to  God.  And  this 
makes  their  miseries  out  of  measure  misera- 
ble, and  their  sins  out  of  measure  sin(ui  : 
whereas,  were  it  thus  qualified,  and  had  it 
any  operation  this  way  ti^ward  the  subjecting 
of  their  hearts  unto  God,  affliction  were  not  ■ 
to  be  called  misery,  but  would  so  under  the 
title  of  a  blessedness  :  Blessed  is  Ihe  man 
whom  thov  correct  est  and  teacliest  liim  out  of 
thy  law.  That  is  suiting  with  this  here  desir- 
ed, /  hax'c  borne  chastisement  ;  what  I  see  not, 
tffi'h  thou  me;  and  if  I  hat'-e  done  ini(/uili/, 
I  !t;7/  do  it  no  more.  Oh  !  were  it  thus  with 
us,  my  brethren,  how  might  we  rejoice,  and 
insert  into  our  praises  all  that  is  come  upon 
us,  if  it  had  wrought  or  advanced  any  thing  ; 
of  this  kind'wiiliin  us.  this  blessed  compli- i 
an:e  with  the  will  of  God:  not  entertaining  i 
anything  knowingly  thai  displeases  him  ;  [ 
finding  a  pleasure  in  the  denial  and  desiruc-  ' 
tion  of  our  own  most  beloved  pleasures  at 
his  appointment  and  for  his  sake.  Whatso- 
eve-r  is  in  us.  and  dearest  to  us,  that  would 
offend  us,  that  would  draw  us  to  offend  him, 
%eere  it  the  right  hand,  let  it  be  cut  off  ;  or  the  , 


riiihi  eye,  let  it  he  plncJ;cd  out  :  or,  to  make 
shorter  work,  let  the  whole  man  di(j  at  once, 
crucified  with  Jesus,  that  we  may  he  hence- 
forth dead  to  sin,  dead  to  the  world,  dead  lo 
ourselves,  arid  alive  only  to  Gad. 


SERMON  III. 

THE  DIVINK  GLORY  OF  SION. 

Thkre  is  no  exercise  so  deliglitfu  to  those 
that  are  truly  godly,  as  the  solemn  worship 
of  God,  if  they  find  his  powerful  and  sensible 
presence  in  it ;  and  indeed  there  is  nothing 
on  earth  more  like  to  heaven  than  that  is. 
But  when  he  withdraws  himsell,  and  with- 
holds the  influence  and  breathings  of  his  spir- 
it in  his  Service,  then  good  souls  find  nothing 
more  lifeless  and  uncomfortable.  But  there 
is  this  difference,  even  at  such  a  time,  be- 
tween them  and  those  that  have  no  spiritual 
life  in  tliem  at  all,  that  they  find,  and  are  sen- 
sible of  this  did'erence  ;  whereas  the  others 
know  not  what  it  means.  And  for  the  most 
part,  the  greatest  numberof  those  that  meet  to- 
gether with  a  profession  to  worship  God,  yet 
are  such  as  do  not  understand  this  difference 
Custom  and  formality  draw  many  to  iheordi 
nary  places  oi'  public  worship,  and  fill  too 
much  of  the  room  :  and  sometimes  novell) 
and  curiosity,  drawing  to  places  not  ordinary 
have  a  large  share  :  but  how  few  are  there 
that  come  on  purpose  to  meet  vnih  God  in 
his  worship,  and  to  find  his  power  in  strength- 
ening their  weak  faith,  and  weakening  theii 
strong  corruptions,  afl'ording  them  provision  of 
spiritual  strength  and  comfort  against  limes  of 
trial,  and,  in  a  word,  advancing  ihem  some 
steps  forward  in  their  journey  toward  heaven, 
where  happiness  and  perfection  dwell !  Cer- 
tainly, these  sweet  effects  are  to  be  found  in 
these  ordinances,  if  we  would  look  after  tliem. 
Let  it  grieve  us  then,  thai  we  have  so  often  lost 
our  labor  in  the  worship  of  God  through  our 
own  neglect,  and  entreat  the  Lord,  that  at 
this  time  he  would  not  send  us  away  empty. 
For  how  weak  soever  the  means  be,  il  he 
put  forth  his  strength,  the  work  shall  be  done, 
in  some  measure,  to  bis  glory  and  our  edifi- 
cation. Now  thai  he  may  be  pleased  to  do 
so,  to  leave  a  blessing  behind  him,  let  us 
pray,  &c. 

Isaiah  xxviii.  5,  6. 

In  that  (lay  shall  the  Lord  of  hosts  ho  for  a  crown  of 

glory,  and  for  a  diadem  of  beauty  unto  the  residue 

of  liis  people. 
And  for  a  spirit  of  judgment  to  him  that  sitteth  in 

J\ids^m<'nt,  and  for  strength  to  them  that  turn  the 

f)atllc  to  the  gate. 

All  the  works  of  Divine  Providence  are 
full  of  wisdom  and  justice,  even  every  one* 
severally  considered  :  yet  we  observe  them 
best  to  be  such,  when  we  take  notice  of  their 
order  and  mutual  aspect  one  to  another, 
whether  in  the  succession  of  times,  or  such 
passages  as  are  contemporary  and  lall  in  to- 


JsA.  xxviii.  5,  6.] 


THE  DIVINE  GLORY  OF  SION. 


451 


gether  at  one  and  the  same  time.  As,  when 
the  Lord  brings  notable  judgments  upon  the 
proud  woriters  of  iniquiiy,  and  at  the  same 
time  confers  special  mercies  on  his  own 
neople,  who  is  there  that  may  not  perceive 
justice  and  mercy  illustrating  and  beautify- 
ing one  another  ?  It  is  true,  the  full  reward 
and  perfect  rest  of  the  godly  is  not  here  be- 
low ;  they  would  be  sorry  if  it  were :  nor  is 
this  the  place  of  plenary  punishment  for  the 
angodly  ;  men  may  loolf  for  a  judgment  too. 
Yet,  the  Lord  is  pleased  at  sometimes  to  give 
some  resemblances  and  pledges,  as  it  were, 
of  that  great  and  last  judgment  in  remarkable 
passages  of  justice  and  mercy,  at  one  and  the 
same  time:  and  such  a  time  it  is  that  the 
prophet  foretells  in  this  his  sermon,  which 
concerns  the  two  sister  kingdoms  of  Israel 
and  Judah.  Having  denounced  a  heavy  ca- 
lamitv  to  come  upon  Israel,  under  the  name 
of  Ephraim,  he  comforts  those  of  Judah  un- 
der the  name  of  the  residue  of  his  ■peofle. 
They  not  being  so  grossly  corrupted  as  the 
others  were,  he  stays  them  with  this  promise: 
In  that  flay,  saith  he,  when  the  other  shall 
be  overwhelmed,  as  with  a  deluge,  the  Lord 
of  hosts  shall  he  for  a  crown  of  t^lory,  and  for 
a  diadem  of  beauty  unto  the  residue  of  his 
feojile. 

The  promise  is  made  up  of  three  benefits,  yet 
the  three  are  but  one  ;  or  rather,  one  is  all  the 
three  to  them  :  The  Lord  of  hosts,  it  is  he  that 
shall  be  their  honor,  wisdom,  and  strenslh  ; 
/"  shall  he  a  crnum,  &c.  But  first,  a  word  as 
!•>  the  circumstance  of  time,  In  thnt  day. 

'V'.  v  sovereign  Lord,  who  at  first  set  up 
the  li.-hts  of  heaven  to  distinguish  times  and 
seasons  by  their  constant  motion,  and  like- 
wise by  his  supreme  providence  ruling  the 
world,  hath  lived  the  periods  of  states  and 
kingdoms,  and  liccreed  their  revolutions,  their 
'•sing,  ascending,  and  their  height,  with  their 
decline  and  setting,  hath  by  a  special  provi- 
dence determined  those  changes  and  vicissi- 
tudes that  befall  his  church.  That  which  the 
psalmist  speaks,  in  his  own  particular.  Psalm 
xxxi.  15,  holds  of  each  believer,  and  of  the 
church  which  they  make  up  in  all  ajes  and 
places:  I  said.  Thou  art  mi/  God,  my  tunes 
are  in  thy  hand.  A  sure  and  steadv  hand  in- 
deed, and  therefore  he  b'".ilds  his  confidence 
upon  it,  ver.  13.  They  took  counsel  as^ainst 
me,  but  I  trusted  in  thee.  And  upon  this,  he 
prays  in  faith,  that  the  face  of  God  may  shine 
upon  him,  and  the  wicked  may  he  ashamed. 

Thus,  then  as  many  ijf  you  as  arc  lociking 
after  a  day  of  mercy  to  the  church  of  God, 
pray  and  believe  upon  this  ground,  That  the 
time  ot  II  is  tieither  in  the  frail  hands  of  those 
that  favor  and  seek  it,  nor  in  the  hand-  of 
those  that  oppose  it,  how  strong  and  subtle 
Boevnr  they  be,  but  in  ins  almighty  hand, 
who  doth  in  heaven  and  earth  what  plcas- 
eih  I)  im  If  he  have  said,  Nom,  and  Iwre, 
will  I  give  a  day  of  refreshment  to  my  peo- 
ple, who  have  long  groaned  for  it,  a  day 
of  the  purity  a  id  power  of  religion  ;  if,  J 


I  say,  this  be  his  purpose,  they  rn'jst  nave 
somewhat  more  than  omnipotence,  Trho  can 
hinder  it.  When  his  appointed  time  comes, 
to  make  a  day  of  deliverance  dawn  upon  his 
I  church,  after  their  long  night  either  of  afflic- 
tion or  of  defection,  or  both  :  they  who  con- 
trive against  that  day-spring,  are  as  vain  as 
'  if  they  would  sit  down  to  plot  how  to  hin- 
der the  sun  from  rising  in  the  morning.  And 
they  who  let  go  their  hopes  of  it,  because  of 
'  great  apparent  difficulties  that  interpose  be- 
tween their  eye  and  the  accomplishment  of 
I  that  work,  are  as  weak  as  if  they  should  ima- 
gine, when  mists  and  thick  vapors  appear 
about  the  horizon  m  the  morning,  that  these 
could  hinder  the  rising  of  the  sun,  which  is  so 
far  out  of  their  reach,  and  comes  forth  as  a 
bride i^room,  and  rejoices  as  a  mighty  man  to 
]  run  his  race,  says  David.  Those  mists  may 
indeed  hinder  his  clear  appearance,  and  keep 
it  from  the  eye  for  a  time  ;  but  reason  tells 
us,  even  then,  that  they  can  not  stop  his 
course.  And  faith  assures  us  no  less  in  the 
other  case,  that  no  difl[iculties  can  hold  back 
God's  day  and  work  of  mercy  to  his  people. 
But  you  will  say.  All  the  difficulty  is,  to  know 
whether  the  appointed  time  be  near  or  not. 
It  is  true,  we  liave  no  particular  prophecies 
to  assure  us  ;  hut  certainly,  when  God  awakes 
his  children  and  makes  them  ri.'^e,  this  is  a 
probable  sign  that  it  is  near  day.  I  mean, 
when  he  stirs  them  up  to  more  than  usual 
hopes,  and  prayers,  and  endeavors,  it  is  very 
likely  that  he  intends  them  some  special 
good.  But  yet  more,  when  he  himself  is 
arisen  (as  it  pleaseth  him  to  speak),  that  is, 
when  he  is  besrun  to  appear,  in  a  more  than 
ordinary  manner  of  working  by  singular  and 
wonderful  footsteps  of  providence,  this  is,  no 
doubt,  a  si<rn  that  he  will  go  on  to  show  re- 
markable mercy  to  Sion,  and  that  the  tune  to 
favor  her,  yea,  the  set  time  is  come.  Ps.  cii.  13. 

Howsoever  then,  let  the  wonderful  work- 
ings of  the  Lord  move  those  of  you  that  have 
any  power  and  opportunity,  to  be  now  (.if 
ever)  active  for  the  greatest  good  both  of  the 
present  age  and  of  posterity.  And  you  that 
can  be  no  other  way  useful,  yet  you  shall  be 
no  small  heljjers  if  you  be  much  in  prayer  ; 
let  both  your  hopes  and  your  fears  serve  to 
sharpen  your  prayers.  Be  not  too  much  de- 
jected with  any  discouragement,  neither  be 
ye  carnally  lifted  up  with  outward  api)ear- 
ances  ;  for  the  heart  of  him  that  is  lifted  up, 
is  not  upright  in  him,  Hab.  ii.  4  :  but  live,  as 
the  just  do,  by  yom  faith.  And  if  the  defer- 
ring of  your  hopes  should  sicken  your  heartu, 
as  Solomon  speaks,  yet,  stay  and  comfort 
them  with  the  cordial  of  the  promises.  This 
you  are  sure  of,  you  have  God's  own  word 
engaged  for  it,  that  in  those  latter  days  Baby- 
lon shall  be  brought  to  the  dust,  and  the  true 
church  of  (Christ  shall  flourish  and  increase. 
And  this  vision  is  for  an  apjminted  time  (as 
Habakkuk  says  of  his)  ;  at  the  end  it  shall 
speak,  and  not  lie  thou\rh  it  tarry,  'vait 
it,  it  Will  surely  come,  it  will  not  tarry. 


152 


THE  DIVINE  GLORY  OF  SIGN. 


[Ser.  111. 


In  that  dav.]  That  is,  in  tlie  day  of 
Ejilirairn's  or  Israel's  calamity  denounced  in 
the  Conner  verses  ;  vvhieh,  as  most  do  con- 
reive,  was  when  the  Assyrian  ojijircssed 
them,  and  in  the  end  led  them  captive,  in 
the  rei^n  of  Hosea,  as  you  have  the  history 
ol' it,  2  Kiiii^s  xvii.,  at  wiiich  time  Hezekiali 
was  king  of  Judah,  as  you  find  in  the  follow- 
ing chapter:  and  in  that  notalih  reformation 
wrought  hy  iiim,  Avith  those  blessings  that 
followed  upon  it,  is  found  the  •  accomplish- 
ment of  this  promise  to  Judah,  In  that  day, 
ice.  The  parallel  of  God's  different  dealing 
with  these  two  kin<rdoms  at  the  time  there 
specified  [m  that  day),  does  afford  divers  les- 
sons, whicii  might  be  here  not  impertinently 
taken  notice  of    Only  this: 

Though  Judah  also  had  its  own  corruptions 
when  Hezekiah  came  to  the  crown,  yet  it 
pleased  ihe  Lord  to  spare  them  and  work  a 
peaceable  reformation,  making  Israel's  pun- 
ishment their  warning.  Truly,  that  nation 
with  whom  the  Lord  deals  thus  graciously,  is 
vilely  ungrateful  if  thev  observe  it  not  with 
much  humility  and  thankfulness,  and  with 
profit  too.  If  the  Lord  should  answer  your 
desires  and  hopes  with  a  reformation  in  a 
peaceable  way,  and  should  yet  lengthen  out 
your  long-continued  peace,  and  should  make 
this  little  past  shaking  of  it  cause  it  to  take 
root  the  faster  ;  if  he  should,  I  say,  do  this, 
where  would  ye  find  fit  praises  for  such  a 
wonder  of  mercy  ?  especially  considering,  that 
in  the  meanwhile  he  hath  made  other  re- 
formed churches  fields  of  blood,  and  made, 
as  it  were,  the  sound  of  their  strijies  preach 
repentance  to  us.  But  ceriainly,  if  the  hear- 
ing the  Voice  of  the  rod  prevail  not,  we  shall 
feel  the  smart  of  it,  as  this  people  of  Judah 
did  afterward,  because  they  were  not  so  wise 
as  to  become  wiser  and  better  by  Israel's  fol- 
ly and  calamity.  We  are  expecting  great 
things  at  our  Lord's  hands,  and  our  provoca- 
tions and  sins  against  him  are  great ;  yet 
there  is  no  one  of  them  all  puts  us  in  so 
much  danger  of  disappointment,  as  impeni- 
tence. Were  there  more  repentance  and  per- 
sonal reformaiion  among  us,  we  niifrhl  take 
it  as  a  hopeful  forerunner  of  that  public  ref- 
ormation which  so  many  seem  now  to  desire. 

The  Lord  of  hosts.]  This  style  of  his,  you 
know,  is  frequent  in  the  prophets,  in  their 
predictions  of  mercy  and  judgment  ;  intima- 
ting both  his  greatness  and  majesty,  and  his 
supreme  power  for  accomplishing  his  word. 
No  created  power  can  resist  him  :  yea,  all 
must  serve  him.  The  most  excellent  crea- 
tures can  have  no  greater  honor:  the  great- 
est are  not  exempted,  nor  the  meanest  exclu- 
ded from  serving  him.  In  Acts  xii.  23,  you 
find  one  of  the  noblest  creatures,  and  a  num- 
ber of  the  vilest,  made  use  of  at  the  same 
time  in  the  satne  service.  Because  Ilerod  did 
accept  of  the  sacrilege  of  the  people,  and 
gave  not  back  to  this  Lord  of  hosts  his  own 
glory,  the  anirpj  of  the  Lord  smote  him,  and 
hi  vermin  devoured  him.    And  in  Egypt, 


you  knovir  the  employing  of  the  destroying 
angel,  and  what  variety  of  hosts  this  Lord  of 
hosts  did  employ  to  plairue  them.  Wha 
madness,  then,  is  it  to  opp(.se  and  encouiwei 
this  great  General  ! — even  in  doubtful  cases, 
to  run  on  blindly,  without  examining,  Icsl 
peradvenlure  a  man  should  be  found  a  fightei 
against  (^od.  And  on  the  other  side,  it  if 
great  weakness  lo  admit  any  fear  under  his 
banner.  If  a  man  could  say,  when  he  was 
told  of  the  multitude  of  the  ships  the  enemy 
had,  Aiiainsl  how  many  do  ye  reckon  me? 
how  much  more  justly  may  we  reckon  this 
Lord  of  hosts,  against  multitudes  of  enemies, 
how  great  soever  !  They  are  to  him  as  the 
drop  of  a  bucket,  and  the  smallest  dust  of 
ihe  balance.  It  is  ignorance  and  mean 
thoughts  of  this  mighty  Lord,  that  make  his 
enemies  so  confident ;  and  it  is  the  same  evil, 
in  some  degree,  or,  at  the  best,  forgetfulness 
of  his  power,  that  causeth  diffidence  in  his 
followers.  /,  even  1,  .w  he  that  comforteth 
you:  who  art  thou,  that  thou  shouldst  be 
afraid  of  a  man  that  shall  die,  and  forgettesl 
ihe  Lord,  thy  Maker.  Isa.  li.  12,  13.  Now 
this  same  Lord  of  hosts,  you  know,  is  like- 
wise called  the  God  of  peace:  he  is  indeed, 
et  pace  et  bello  insignis,  splendid  both  in 
peace  and  war.  The  blessing  of  peace,  and 
the  success  of  war,  are  both  from  liim  ;  and 
to  him  alone  is  due  the  praise  of  both. 

Shall  he  for  a  crown  of  glory.]  He  shall 
dignify  and  adorn  them  by  his  special  pres- 
ence :  to  wit,  in  the  purity  of  his  ordinances 
and  religion  among  them  ;  the  profession  and 
flourishing  of  that,  shall  be  their  special  glory 
and  beauty.  For,  as  tiie  other  two  benefits 
concern  their  civil  good,  justice  flourishing 
within,  and  wealth  and  opulency  from  with- 
out, so,  doubtless,  this  first,  this  glory  and 
beauty,  is  religion,  as  the  chiefest  of  the  three,- 
and  the  other  two  are  its  attendants.  In  Ps. 
xxvi.  8,  the  sanctuary,  the  place  of  their  sol- 
emn worship,  is  called  Ihe  place  where  God's 
honor  dwtUeth,  or  the  tabernacle  of  his  honor, 
and.  Psalm  xcvi.  9,  the  glorious  sanctuary,  or 
ihe  beauty  of  holiness.  And  the  ark  of  God, 
yru  know,  was  culled  the  glory.  The  glory 
is  departed  from  Israel  (said  the  wife  of  Phin- 
eas),  for  the  ark  of  God  is  taken.  1  Samuel 
iv.  21.  Pure  religion  and  a  pure  worship  is 
the  glory  of  God  among  his  people,  and,  con- 
sequently, their  glory.  Now,  referring  this 
prophecy  to  Hezekiah's  time,  the  accomplish- 
ment of  it  is  evident,  in  that  work  of  reforma- 
tion whereof  you  have  the  full  history,  2 
Chron.  xxix.  30,  &c. 

If  it  be  thus,  that  the  purity  of  religion  and 
worship  is  the  crown  and  glory  of  a  people  ; 
and  therefore,  on  the  other  side,  that  their 
deepest  stain  of  dishonor  and  vileness  is  the 
vitiating  of  religion  with  human  devices ; 
then,  to  contend  for  the  preservation  or  the 
reformation  of  it,  is  noble  and  worthy  of  a 
Christian.  It  is  for  the  crown  of  Jesus  Christ, 
which  is  likewise  a  crown  of  glory,  and  a 
diadem  of  beauty  lo  them,  he  beii.g  their  head. 


fsA.  xxvni.  6,  6.J 


THE  DIVINE  GLORY  OF  SION. 


453 


It  if ,  iadeed,  the  true  glory  both  of  kings  and 
their  kinnrdoms.  Lalior,  then,  for  constancy 
in  this  work  :  let  no  man  take  your  crown 
from  you.  You  know  how  busv  the  emissa- 
ries of  the  church  of  Rome  have  been  to  take 
it  from  us,  or,  at  least,  to  pick  the  diamonds 
out  of  it,  and  put  in  false,  counterfeit  ones  in 
their  places.  I  mean,  thev  stole  away  the 
power  of  religion,  and  filled  up  the  room  with 
shadows  and  fopperies  of  their  own  devising-. 
It  is  the  vanity  of  that  church  to  think  they 
adorn  the  worship  of  God  when  they  dress  it 
up  with  splendor  in  her  service,  which,  though 
some  magnify  it  so  much,  yet  may  most  truly 
be  called  a  glistering  slavery  and  capiiviiy. 
Then  is  she  truly  free,  and  wears  her  crown, 
when  the  ordinances  of  God  are  conformable 
',0  his  own  appointment.  It  is  vanity  in  man, 
I  say,  when  they  dress  it  up  with  a  multitude 
of  gaudy  ceremonies,  and  make!<  the  smallest 
pan  of  itself ;  whereas,  indeed,  its  true  glory 
consists  not  in  pomp,  but  in  purity  and  sim- 
plicity. In  the  twelfih  chapter  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse, we  find  the  church,  under  the  name  of 
9  woman,  richly  aiiired,  indeed,  but  her  or- 
naments be  all  heavenly  ;  the  sun  her  clothin?, 
and  her  crown  of  tivelve  stnrs.  Needs  she, 
'.hen,  borrow  sublunary  glory  ?  No,  she  treads 
upon  it :  the  moon  is  under  her  feel.  There 
IS  another  woman,  indeed,  in  that  same  book, 
arrai/ed  in  purple  and  scarlet,  decked  with 
irnld  and  precmus  stones,  and  havin<ra  aolden 
cup  in  her  hand,  but  that  golden  cup  is  full 
of  ahorninations  and  filthmess,  and  she  her- 
stAi  y\\e  mnlher  of  abominations.  Apoc.  xvii. 
4.  The  natural  man  judges  according  to  bis 
reach  ;  but  to  a  spiritual  eye  there  is  a  most 
genuine  beauty  in  the  service  of  God,  and  the 
government  of  his  house  ;  and  when  they  are 
nearest  to  the  rule,  the  word  of  God,  then  it 
is  lharthe  Lord  himself  is  the  crown  and  dia- 
dem of  his  church. 

A  crown  of  <rlory. )  Again  :  we  may  con- 
sider this  personally,  as  belonging  in  partic- 
ular to  every  believer.  They  are  all  made 
kin>;s  and  priests  unto  God  the  Father.  Apoc. 
1.  G.  They  are  a  chosen  trcneralion,  a  royal 
priesthood,  1  Peter  ii.  9,  how  despicable  so- 
ever to  the  world.  This  is  iheir  dignity  :  the 
Lord  IS  their  crown  and  diadem.  Ho  subdues 
heir  lusts,  and  makes  them  kings  over  their 
own  affeclions,  and  more  than  conquerors 
ever  all  troubles  and  persecutions  ;  whereas 
carnal  menare  continually  hurried,  like  slaves, 
unto  base  employments,  still  kejx  toiling  in 
the  ignoble  service  of  their  own  lusts.  They 
think,  indejd,  it  is  their  liberty  ;  but  that  is  a 
baseness  of  spirit  that  complies  so  well  with 
so  vile  and  servile  a  condition.  And  whereas 
they  judge  the  godly  to  be  the  refuse  and 
dross  of  the  earth,  and  the  proper  objects  of 
contempt,  this  is  because  this  iheir  crown, 
though  most  glorious,  is  invisible  to  the  eve 
of  nature.  The  Lord  is  a  crown.  If  they 
knew  what  this  is,  they  would  see  enough  in 
it  to  countervail  their  outward  meaiui(''ss  and 
the  reproaches  the  world  cast  on  them  :  as 


the  Apostle  St.  Peter  hath  it,  1  Peter  iv.  14, 
//"  ye  be  reproached  for  the  name  of  Christ, 
happy  are  ye  ;  for  the  Spirit  of  glory  and  of 
God  resteth  on  you.    He  is  their  crown. 

And  observe,  how  this  crown  is  opposed  to 
that  blasted  glory  and  fading  crown  of  pride, 
'  spoken  of  in  the  former  verses.     Wo  to  the 
crown  of  pride,  to  the  drunkards  of  Ephraim, 
whose  glorious  beauty  is  a  fading  jiower. 
I     Who  is  there  that  sees  not,  in  dail^  expe- 
rience, the  vanity  and  inconstancy  of  worldly 
glory,  and  yet  how  few  are  there  that  wean 
themselves  from  it,  and  learn  to  disdain  it ! 
Still  men  dote  upon  that  which  is  not,  upon  a 
shadow,  a  nothing.    But  would  you  have  a 
glory  that  fadeih  not,  a  garland  that  can  not 
wither,  make  the  Lord  your  crown  and  your 
I  glory  ;  and  if  he  be  so,  glory  in  him,  and  in 
'  nothing  else.    Let  not  the  wise  man  s^lori/  in 
\  his  wisdom,  neither  let  the  mighty  man  glory 
\  in  his  mis;ht  ;  let  not  tn<  "ich  man  glory  in 
his  riches  ;  but  let  him  that  glorieth,  glory  in 
this,  that  he  understandelh  and  knoweth  ME. 
Jer.  ix.  23,  24. 

You  that  are  noble,  aspire  to  this  crown,  as 
being  so  far  above  your  perishing  honors  and 
bounded  powers.  And  you  that  are  outward- 
ly meaner  and  lower,  see  how  little  cause  you 
have  to  complain  of  your  condition,  seeing 
you  are  not  debarred  from  this  best  and  great- 
est honor.  And,  that  you  may  discern  aright 
what  it  is,  know  that  it  consists  in  the  reno- 
vation of  God's  iinase  within  you,  which  is 
in  holiness  and  riijiiieousness  :  so  the  Lord 
becomes  your  crown  in  the  kingdom  of  grace. 
And  by  this  you  may  discover  wlielber  or  no 
you  have  attained  it:  if  you  can  vet  delight 
to  wallow  in  the  |)uddlc  and  pleasures  of  sin, 
you  are  far  from  this  royal  condition  ;  but  if 
you  find  your  soul  possessed  with  the  love  of 
holiness,  and  that  you  are  trampling  upon 
profane  delights,  this  may  persuade  you  that 
God  hath  enabled  vou,  and  crowned  you  with 
his  grace,  and  will  crown  you  with  his  glory. 
Again,  try  it  by  this  ;  if  the  Lord  is  become 
your  crown  and  your  glory,  you  will  glory  in 
him,  and  in  notliing  else.  Though  you  be 
wise,  you  will  not  glory  in  your  wisdom,  nor 
in  strensili,  nor  in  riches,  nor  in  honors, 
though  you  bad  them  all  ;  but  if  you  glory, 
you  will  glory  in  the  Lord.  And  willial, 
your  highest  joy  will  be  to  see  the  advance- 
1  mcnt  of  his  cflory,  and,  if  you  can,  to  be  any 
I  way  serviceable  to  the  advancing  of  it. 

And  for  a  spirit  of  jud gment.]  Both  to 
those  that  sil  m  judi^ment,  and  to  the  people. 
For  justice  is  the  strongest  base  antl  establish- 
ment of  authority.  And  withal,  the  influence 
of  it  is  most  sweet  and  comfortable  to  those 
I  who  are  under  authority  ;  and  where  it  is 
'  wanting,  that  order  and  relation  of  superior? 
and  inferiors,  which  (xod  hath  ajipointed  in 
the  societies  of  men  for  their  good,  tends  ex- 
ceeedingly  to  thedamai^e  of  both.  And  there- 
fore, where  God  inteiideth  to  continue  the 
peace  and  welfare  of  a  people,  be  is  liberal  in 
pouring  out  much  of  this  spirit  of  judgmen. 


CHRIST  THE  LIGHT  AND 


[Ser. IV. 


on  those  who  sil  in  judi^mrnl.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  is  lor  a  heavy  i)uni.<hni('nt,  when  he 
•withdraws  his  Spirit  I'roiii  rulers,  and  leaves 
them  wluilly  to  the  corruption  and  vanity  of 
tlieir  own  spirits 

To  hiiii  lliul  sittcth  }?i  judffinenl.  That  is, 
to  all  that  are  in  jjlaccs  oCauihoriiy  and  judi- 
catiu-e,  froTii  liie  supreme  lo  tlie  lowesi  nia- 
pivtrate  ;  lor  this  concerns  thetn  all.  For  they 
be  all  raised  in  their  subordination,  and  sev- 
eral places  ahove  the  ])eople,  tor  ihc  benefit 
and  good  of  the  pi^iple  ;  as  the  stars,  that  be 
set  so  high,  yet  ar»^)laced  there  to  be  useful 
and  benelicial  to  the  inferior  world. 

Now  this  spirit  of  judgment  comprehends 
in  it  both  due  wisi/o/n  and  prudence,  for  the 
trial  and  right  judging  of  affairs,  and  for  the 
discerning  between  sound  and  perverse  coun- 
sel :  and,  wiilial,  a   jud ginent  practically 

frood,  that  cannot  he  biased  from  the  straight 
ine  of  equity  and  justice  by  any  sinister  re- 
spect. 

Now,  seeing  the  spirit  of  judgment  is  from 
the  Lord,  yea,  he  is  this  spirit,  it  ousht  to 
persuade  those  that  sil  in  judgment-,  to  en- 
treat and  pray  for  this,  and  to  depend  upon  it, 
and  beware  of  self-confidence.  Trust  in  the 
Lord,  saith  Solomon,  and  lean  not  to  thine 
own  understanding :  for  if  you  do,  it  will 
prove  but  a  broken  reed.  And  as  they  that  sit 
in  judgment  should  entreat  his  Spirit  by  pray- 
er, so,  generally,  all  must  share  with  them  in 
this  duty,  and  make  suiiplication  for  all  that 
are  in  authority  over  them,  especially  in  ex- 
traordinary times.  Trulv  we  have  matter 
of  thankfulness,  that  the  Lord  hath  in  some 
measiire  inclined  the  royal  heart  of  our  sov- 
ereign  to  the  desires  of  his  penjde  :  and  we 
ought  still  to  pray  that  the  Lord  would  give 
the  king  his  judgments ;  and  then,  as  the 
psalmist  adds,  The  mountains  shall  bring 
peace  to  the  people,  and  the  Utile  hills,  by 
righteousness.  Psalm  Ixii.  3.  And,  for  this 
end,  let  all  who  wish  the  public,  yea,  their 
own  good,  pray  for  abundance  of  this  spirit 
of  judsrnent  to  be  conferred  on  them.  Your 
eyes  and  ex|)eclations  are  upon  them.  If  you 
Would  enjoy  ihe  lamp,  you  must  pour  in  oil. 
This  spirit,  indeed,  you  can  not  pour  upon 
them,  but  if  you  pour  out  many  prayers,  you 
may  draw  it  from  abcjve  :  he  will  gwe  it,  who 
here  promises  to  be  a  spirit  of  judgment. 

And  for  strength.  Observe,  the  way  to  be 
powerful  and  successful  aeainst  foreign  ene- 
mies, is,  to  have  religion  and  justice  flourish- 
ing at  home.  And  truly,  if  it  please  our  God 
to  answer 'the  desires  of  his  people  at  this 
time,  it  may  so  unite  the  affection  and  strength 
of  the  two  kingdoms  Lord  of  hostsheing 
their  strength),  as  to  make  them  a  terror  to 
their  enemies  :  whereas  they  were  become  a 
scorn  and  derision  to  them.  For  your  partic- 
ular, labor  to  make  the  Lord  your  glory,  to 
nave  Christ  made  unto  you,  as  the  ajjoslle 
speaks,  both  insdom,  and  righteousness,  and 
sanrtijication,  which  are  the  t'lory  and  beauty 
of  the  soul,  and  redemption  from  spiritual  en- 


emies. Draw  strength  from  him  to  fight  and 
prevail  ai^ainsl  them,  till,  after  the  short  com- 
tiat  (jf  this  life,  you  obtain  the  crown,  and 
dwell  in  his  presence,  where  you  sh;ill  fear 
no  more  assaults,  neither  of  sin  nor  of  afflic- 
tion, but  shall  be  for  ever  hapi)V  in  the  hies- 
sed  vision  of  his  fac;,  T')  him  be  glory. 
Amen. 


SERMON  IV.  • 

CHRIST  THE  LIGHT  AND  LUSTRE  OF  THE  CHtJRCH. 

External  worship  doth  openly  acknowl- 
edge a  Deity,  bu;  want  of  inward  sense  in 
worship  secretly  denicth  it :  the  fool  hath 
said  in  his  heart,  There  is  7io  God.  It  is 
strange  to  hear  so  much  noise  of  religion  in 
the  world,  and  to  find  so  little  piety.  To  pre- 
sent the  living  God  with  a  carcass  of  lifeless 
worship,  is  to  pay  him  with  shells  of  ser- 
vices, and  so  to  mock  him.  And  it  is  a  more 
admirable  long-suffering  in  him  to  defer  the 
punishment  of  such  devotion,  than  of  all  the 
other  sins  in  the  world.  The  Egyjiiian  tem- 
pies  were  rich  and  stalely  fabrics :  a  stranger 
who  had  looked  upon  them  without,  would 
have  imagined  some  great  deity  wiihin  ;  but 
if  they  entered  (as  Lucian  says,  laughing  at 
them),  nothing  was  to  be  seen,  but  only  some 
ape,  or  cat,  or  pied  bull,  or  some  other  fine 
god  like  those.  To  behold  our  fair  sem- 
blance of  religion  who  frequent  this  house,  it 
would  appear  th^t  we  were  all  the  temples 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  :  but  whoso  could  look 
wiihin  us,  would  find  in  many  of  our  hearts, 
lust,  pride,  avarice,  or  some  such  like  secret 
vice  adored  as  a  god.  And  these  a^jc  they 
which,  while  our  bodies  sit  here,  do  alienate 
our  souls  from  the  service  of  the  Eternal  God, 
so  that  we  are  cither  altogether  senseless  and 
dead  before  him,  or,  if  any  fit  of  spiritual  mo- 
tion rise  within  us,  we  find  it  here,  and  here 
we  leave  it,  as  if  it  were  sacrilege  to  take  it 
home  with  us.  But  did  once  that  Spirit  of 
grace  breathe  savingly  upon  our  souls,  we 
should  straight  renounce  and  abhor  those  base 
idols,  and  then  all  the  current  of  our  affection 
I  wt)uhl  run  more  in  this  channel :  our  services 
would  then  be  spnitual,  and  it  would  be  our 
heaven  upon  earth,  to  view  God  in  his  sanc- 
tuary. And  the  obtaining  of  the  change,  is, 
or  should  be,  the  main  end  of  this  our  meet- 
ing :  and,  that  it  may  be  the  happy  effect  of 
it,  our  recourse  must  be  to  the  throne  of  crace 
by  humble  prayer,  in  the  name  of  our  Media- 
tor, Jesus  Christ,  the  rii^hteous. 

Isaiah  Ix.  1. 

Arise,  shine,  for  tliy  light  is  cnmr,  and  tlje  glory  of 
the  Lord  is  risen  upon  tliee. 

AmiiRABLE  is  the  worth  and  depth  of  Di- 
vine providence  !   This,  either  we  know  not, 
,  or  at  least  seldom  remember.  While  we  for- 


I 


ISA.  Ix.  1.] 


LUSTRE  OF  THE  CHURCH. 


455 


that  best  sets  off  the  lustre  of  marvellous  de- 
liverances: and  among  many  other  reasons 
of  ilie  church's  vicissitudes,  why  may  not 
this  be  one  ?    The  Lord  is  more  illustrious 


get  the  wonders  of  providence,  we  direct  our  |  without  li^fhl.  Deep  distress  is  that  dark  foil 
thoughts  to  baser  objects,  and  think  not  on  " 
it;  and  while  we  forget  the  depth  of  provi- 
dence (if  at  any  time  we  look  toward  it),  we 
jud2;e  rashly  and  think  amiss  of  it.  If  this 
be  true  of  that  general  providence  whereby  !  in  the  world  by  that  deep  wisdom  and  great 
God  rules  the  world,  it  is  more  true  of  liis  |  power  that  shines  when  he  raises  and  re- 
special  providence  toward  his  church.  This  |  stores  her  from  desperate  afflictions,  than  if 
is  b:jth  tiie  most  excellent  piece  of  it,  and  ;  he  had  still  preserved  her  in  constant  ease, 
therel'ore  best  worth  the  reading,  and  also  [  He  seems  sometimes  careless  of  her  condi- 
the  hardest  piece,  and  therefore  it  requires  i  tion,  and  regardless  of  her  groans;  but  even 
sobriety  in  judging  :  above  all  other  things,  ;  then,  is  he  waiting  the  most  Jit  time  to  be 
he  that  suddenly  judges  in  this,  makes  haste  |  gracious,  as  our  prophet  speaks.  And  when 
to  err.  To  have  a  right  view  of  it,  it  must  !  it  is  time,  out  of  the  basest  estate  he  brings 
be  taken  altogether,  and  liot  by  parcels.  Pie-  \  her  forth  more  fresh,  strong,  and  beautiful, 
ces  of  rarest  artifice,  while  they  are  a  ma-  i  than  before.  TJwuirh  you  have  lain  among 
king,  seem  little  worth,  especially  to  an  un-  !  the  pots,  yet  ye  shall  be  as  the  wings  of  a 
skilful  eye,  which,  being  completed,  com-  ,  /love  covered  ivith  si/rer,  and  her  feathers 
mand  admiration.    Peter  Martyr  says  well,    irith  yellow  gold.  Psalm  Ixviii.  13.    Do  with 


De  operibus  Dei,  anlequnm  actum,  non  e<t 
judicandam:  There  is  no  jitdi^ins:  of  the 
works  of  God,  before  they  are  finished.  There 
is  a  time  when  the  daughters  of  Sion  em- 
irace  the  dunghill  and  sit  desolate  in  the 
streets,  as  Jeremiah  hath  it  in  his  Lamenta- 
tion;;  (iv.  5),  and  at  that  same  time  the  voice 


the  church  what  you  will,  stie  shall  come 
through,  and  that  with  advantage.  Mcrgas 
profundo.  pulchrior  exilit,  as  one  .ays  of 
Rome.  Keep  the  church  seventy  years  cap- 
tive, yet,  afier  that,  she  shall  arise  and  shine 
more  glorious  than  ever. 

But  surelv,  the  strain  of  this  evangelic 


of  Babylon  is,  I  sit  as  a  queen  and  shall  see  i  prophecy  rises  hiffher  than  any  temporal  de- 
no  sorrow.  Apoc.  xviii.  7  :  Tsa.  xlvii.  7.  All  1  liverance.  Therefore  we  must  rise  to  some 
is  out  of  order  here.  But  if  we  stay  awhile,  more  spiritual  sense  of  it,  not  excluding  th< 
we  shall  see  Sion  and  Babylon  appointed  to  '  former.  And  that  which  some  call  divera 
change  seats,  by  the  great  Master  of  the  senses  of  the  same  scripture,  is,  indeed,  but 
World  :  Come  down,  says  he,  Daughter  of  divers  parts  of  one  full  sense.  This  ])rophe- 
Bahi/lon,  and  sit  in  the  dust.  Isa.  xlvii.  1.  '  cv  i«,  out  of  question,  a  most  ricii  descrijition 
And  here,  to  Sion,  Arise,  shine,  for  thy  lisht  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ  under  the  gospel. 
is  come,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  is  risen   And  in  this  sense,  this  invitation  to  arise  and 


upon  thee.  It  is  an  entire  catastrophe:  both 
parlies  find  a  notable  alteration  together. 
That  same  hand  that  exalts  the  one,  ruins 
the  other.    When  the  sun  rises  upon  the 


shine  is  mainly  addressed  to  the  mystical  Je- 
rusalem, vet  not  wiihout  some  privih'ge  to 
the  literal  Jerusalem  beyond  other  people. 
Thev  are  first  invited  to  arise  and  shine,  be- 


chur»>i,  her  antipodes  must  needs  be  covered  '  cause  the  sun  arose  first  in  their  horizon, 
with  darkness:  as  we  find  it  in  the  next  i  Christ  came  first  of  the  Jews,  and  came  first 
verse  to  the  text :  Darhness  shall  cover  the  j  to  them.  The  Redeemer  shall  come  to  Zion, 
earth,  and  <rross  darkness  the  people  ;  hut  the  savs  our  prophet,  in  the  former  chapter.  But 


Lord  shall  arise,  upon  thee,  and  his  glory  shall 
be  seen  upon  thee. 

The  prophet,  elevated  by  the  Spirit  of  (rod 
to  a  view  of  after  aires  as  clear  as  if  they 
were  present,  seems  here  to  find  his  people  sit- 
ting under  the  dark  mantle  of  a  sad  and  tedious 
night,  and  havin','  long  ex[)ected  the  sun's  re- 
turn in  vain,  before  its  time,  they  give  over 
expectation  when  it  is  near  them,  and  des- 
perately fold  themselves  to  lie  perpetually  in 
the  dark.    Now  the  prophet,  standing  as  it 


miserable  Jerusalem  knew  not  the  day  of  her 
visitation,  nor  the  thin<rs  that  concerned  her 
peace,  and  therefore  are  they  now  hid  from 
her  eyes.  She  delighted  to  deceive  herself 
with  fancies  of  I  know  not  what  imaiiinary 
grandeur  and  outward  glory,  to  which  the 
promised  Messiah  should  exali  her,  and  did, 
m  that  kind  particularly,  abuse  this  very 
prophecy  :  so  doling  upon  a  sense  grossly  lit- 
eral, she  forfeited  the  enjoyment  of  those 
spiritual  blessings  that  are  here  described. 


were,  awake  upon  some  mountain,  perceives  :'  But  undoubtediv,  that  people  of  the  Jews 
the  day  approaching,  and  ihe  golden  chari- i  shall  once  more  be  commanded  to  arise  and 
ots  of  the  morning  of  deliverance  hasting  |  shine,  and  their  return  shall  be  the  riches  of 
forward,  and  seems  to  come  speedily  with  '  the  Gentiles:  and  that  shall  be  a  more  glori- 
this  glad  news  to  a  captive  people,  and  j  ous  time  than  ever  the  church  of  G(jd  did 
Bounds  this  trumpet  in  their  ears.  Arise,  shine,  j  yet  behold.  Nor  is  there  any  inconvenienco, 
fir  thy  lii^hl  is  come.  The  very  manner  of  '  if  we  think  that  the  high  expressions  (jf  this 
t'xpre^vion  is  sudden  and  rousinar,  without  a  ;  prophecy  have  some  spiritual  reference  to 


copulative;  not,  arise  and  shine,  but.  Arise, 
thuif,  &CC. 

The  words  have  in  them  a  clear  stamp  ■  f 
relation  to  a  low  posture  and  obscure  conffi 


that  time,  since  the  crreat  doctor  of  the  Gen- 
tiles applies  some  words  of  the  former  chap- 
ter to  that  purpose,  Rom.  xi.  29.  Tliey  for- 
get a  itiain  point  of  the  rburch's  ghoy,  who 


tion:  they  suppose  a  people  lying  or  sitting  jiray  not  daily  for  the  conversion  of  ilie  Jews 


456 


CHRIST  THE  LIGHT  AND 


ISer.  rv. 


But  to  pass  that,  and  insist  on  the  spiritual 
Bense  of  liieso  words,  as  directed  to  the  wiiole 
cluireh  of  Ciirist,  they  contain  a  jxiweriu!  ex- 
citement lo  a  twofold  act,  enforced  (as  I  con- 
ceive), by  one  reason  under  a  twofold  expres- 
sion, neither  of"  them  superlhuius,  hut  cacli 
givinjT  iichi  to  the  other,  and  suiting  very 
aptly  with  the  two  words  of  command  :  Anne, 
for  the  i;lorii  of  the  Lord  is  riSf:ii,  tiitd  s/une, 
for  tin/  hifht  is  come. 

I  will  not  now  subdivide  these  parts  again, 
and  cut  t]\em  smaller,  but  will  rather  unite 
them  agam  into  this  one  proposition:  T/ie 
commg  and  presence  of  Christ  ertf^at^es  all  to 
whom  he  comes,  to  arise  and  shine.  In  this 
proposition  may  be  considered,  tiie  nature  of 
the  duties,  tiie  universality  of  the  subjeci,  and 
the  force  uf  the  reason. 

I.  The  nature  t)f  the  duties— what  i'  is  to 
O)  ise  and  yhine.  Arising  hatli  reference  cither 
to  a  fall,  or  to  some  contrary  posture  of  silting 
01  lying,  or  to  one  of  tliose  two  conditions 
which  are  so  lilie  one  another,  sleep,  or  death  ; 
and  to  all  these,  sj)iritually  understood,  may 
it  here  be  referred.  This  is  the  voice  of  the 
gospel  to  the  sons  of  Adam,  arise  ;  for  in  him 
they  all  fell.  Tiie  first  sin  of  that  first  man 
was  the  great  fall  of  mankind  :  it  could  not 
but  undo  us,  it  was  from  so  high  a  station. 
Our  daily  sins  are  our  daily  falls,  and  they  are 
the  fruits  of  that  great  one.  Thou  hast  fallen 
hy  thtne  mtqnilii,  says  the  Lord  to  his  people, 
Hos.  xiv.  1.  As  for  those  postures  of  sitting 
and  lying,  the  Scripture  makes  use  of  them 
both  to  signify  the  state  of  sin.  Says  not  St. 
John,  The  world  lies  in  wickedness  ?  1  John 
V.  19.  Are  not  the  people  said  to  sit  in  dark- 
ness, mentioned  Matt.  iv.  16  ?  Which  is  di- 
rectly opposite  to  wise  and  shine.  In  the 
darkness  of  Egypt,  it  is  said,  the  people  sat 
still;  none  arose  from  liieir  places.  In  the 
gross  mist  of  corrupt  nature,  man  can  not 
bestir  himself  to  any  spiritual  action :  but  when 
this  light  is  come,  then  he  may,  and  should 
arise. 

Now  for  sleep  and  death,  sin  is  most  fre- 
quently represented  in  holy  writ  under  their 
black  vizors.  To  forbear  citing  places  wliere 
they  are  severally  so  used,  we  shall  find  them 
jointly  in  one,  Ephes.  v.  14  :  Arise,  thou  that 
slf.epest,  and  stand  up  from  the  dead  ;  whicii 
place  seems  to  liave  special  allusion  to  this 
very  text. 

The  impenitei.t  sinner  is  as  one  buried  in 
sleep  :  his  soul  is  in  darkness,  fit  for  sleep, 
and  loves  to  be  so.  That  he  may  sleep  the 
sounder,  he  shuts  all  the  passages  of  light,  as 
enemies  to  his  rest,  and  so,  by  close  windows 
and  curtains,  makes  an  artificial  night  to 
himself  within  :  not  a  beam  appears  there, 
though  without  the  clear  day  of  the  gospel 
shines  round  about  him.  The  senses  of  his 
'ioul,  as  we  may  call  them,  are  all  bound  up, 
and  are  not  exercised  to  discern  f^ood  and 
evil,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  lleb.  v.  14.  And 
liis  leadinir  faculty,  his  iiiiderslanding,  is  sur- 
"bar^jed  with  sleepy  vapors,  that  arise  inces- 


santly f.om  the  infer. or  part  of  his  sonl,  hu 
perverse  aflections.  Nor  hath  his  mind  any 
other  exercise,  in  his  sleepy  condition,  than 
the  vain  business  of  dreaming.  His  most  re- 
fined and  wisest  thoughts  are  hut  mere  extra- 
vagancies from  man's  due  end,  and  his  great- 
est  contentments  nothing  but  golden  dreams. 
Yet  iie  is  serious  in  them,  and  no  Wonder; 
for  who  can  discern  the  folly  of  his  own  dream 
till  he  is  awake  ?  He  that  dreams  he  eateth, 
when  he  awakes,  finds  his  soul  empty,  and  nol 
till  then.  Isa.  xxix.  8.  Now,  while  he  thus 
sleeps,  his  great  business  lies  by  ;  yet  spends 
he  his  hand'breadth  of  lime  as  fast,  while  he 
is  fast  asleep,  as  if  he  were  in  continual  em- 
ployment. Judge,  then,  if  it  be  not  needful 
to  bid  this  man  arise. 

Lastly,  this  voice  may  import,  that  man  is 
spiriiuaily  dead.  God  is  the  life  of  the  soul, 
as  it  is  of  the  body  :  while  he  dwells  there,  it 
is  both  comely  and  active  :  but  once  destitute 
of  his  presence,  it  becomes  a  carcass,  where, 
besides  privation  of  life  and  motion,  there  is 
a  positive  filihiness,  a  i>utrefaction  in  the  soul, 
unspeakably  worse  than  that  of  dead  bodies. 
Corruplio  optimi  pessima.  And  as  dead  bodies 
are  removed  from  the  sight  of  men,  dead  souls 
are  cast  out  from  the  favorable  sight  of  God, 
till  Christ's  saying.  Arise,  revives  them.  The 
ministers  of  the  word  are  appointed  to  cry, 
Arise,  indifferently  to  all  that  hear  them  ;  and 
Christ  hath  reserved  this  privilege  and  liber- 
ty, to  join  his  eflfective  voice  when  and  to 
whom  he  pleases.  A  carnal  man  may  show 
his  teeth  at  this  ;  but  who  is  he  that  can,  by 
any  solid  reason,  charge  absurdity  ujion  this 
way  of  dispensing  outward  and  inward  voca- 
tion ?  I  will  not  here  mention  their  idle  cavils. 
The  Scripture  is  undeniably  clear  in  this,  that 
man  is  naturally  dead  in  sin.  The  gospel  bids 
him  arise,  and  it  is  Christ  that  is  his  life,  and 
that  raises  him. 

Thus  we  see,  in  some  measure,  what  it  is 
for  men  to  ari.^e.  Now  being  risen,  they  must 
shi7te,  and  that  two  ways  ;  jointly  and  public- 
ly, as  they  make  up  visible  churches,  and 
likewise  personally,  in  their  particular  con- 
versation. First,  then,  what  is  the  shining 
of  the  true  cliurcli  ?  Doth  not  a  church,  then, 
shine,  when  church  service  is  raised  from  a 
decent  and  primitive  simplicity , and  decorated 
with  pompous  ceremonies,  with  rich  furniture 
and  gaudy  vestments?  Is  not  the  church, 
then,  beautiful  ?  Yes,  indeed  ;  but  all  tht 
question  is,  whether  this  be  the  jiroper,  genuine 
beauty  or  not  ;  whether  this  be  not  strange 
fire,  as  the  fire  that  Aaron's  sons  used,  which 
became  vai  ,  and  was  laken  as  strange  fire, 
Mcthinks  it  can  not  be  better  decided  than  to 
refer  it  to  St.  John,  in  his  book  of  the  Hevela- 
tioiis.  We  find  there  the  descriptions  of  two 
several  women,  the  nr/r  riding  in  state,  arrayed 
in  jiurple,  decked  with  gold,  and  precious 
stones,  and  pearl,  ch.  xvii. :  the  other,  ch.  xii., 
in  rich  attire  loo,  but  of  another  kind,  clothed 
with  tlie  sun,  and  a  crown  of  twelve  stars  on 
her  head.    The  other's  decorameni  was  all 


■SA.  Ix.  1.1 


LUSTRE  OF  THL  CHURCH. 


457 


eartWf,  this  woman's  is  all  celesiial.  What 
need  has  she  to  borrow  li^ht  and  beauty  from 
precious  stones,  who  is  clothed  loith  the  sun, 
and  crowned  with  stars  ?  Slie  wears  no  sub- 
lunary ornaments,  but,  which  is  more  noble, 
she  treads  upon  them  ;  the  moon  is  under  her 
feet.  Mow,  it'  you  know  (as  you  do  all, 
with-out  duubi),  wliich  of  these  two  is  the 
spouse  of  Christ,  yt^'U  can  easily  resolve  the 
question.  The  truth  is,  those  things  seem  to 
deck  religion,  but  they  undo  it.  Observe 
where  they  are  most  used,  and  we  shall  find 
little  or  no  substance  of  devotion  under  them  ; 
as  we  see  in  that  apostate  church  of  Rome. 
This  painting  is  dishonorable  for  Christ's 
spouse,  and  besides,  it  spoils  her  natural  com- ! 
plexion.  The  superstitious  use  of  torches  and 
lights  in  the  church  by  day,  is  a  kind  of  | 
shining,  but  surely  not  that  which  is  com- 
manded here.  No  ;  it  is  an  affront  done  both 
10  the  sun  in' the  heaven,  and  to  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness  in  the  church. 

What  is  meant,  then,  when  the  church  is 
commanded  to  shine,  or  be  enlightened  ? 
These  two  readings  give  the  entire  sense  of 
the  word  ;  for,  first,  haj^ing  no  light  of  her- 
self, she  must  receive  light,  and  then  show  it  ; 
first,  be  enlightened,  and  then  shine.  She  is 
enlightened  by  Christ,  the  Sun  of  righteous- 
ness, sliming  in  the  sphere  of  the  gospel. 
This  is  that  light  that  comes  to  her,  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  that  arises  upon  her.  Hence 
she  receives  her  laws  and  forms  of  government, 
and  her  shining  is,  brielly,  the  pure  exercise 
of  those  and  conformity  to  them. 

And  the  personal  shining  of  the  several 
members  of  a  church  is,  a  comely  congruity 
witli  jjure  worship  and  discipline  ;  and  it  is 
that  which  now  is  most  needful  to  be  urged. 
Every  Christian  soul  is  personally  engaged 
first  to  be  enlightened,  and  then  to  shine  ;  and 
we  must  draw  our  light  for  ourselves  from 
that  same  source  that  furnishes  the  church 
with  her  public  light.  There  is  a  word  in 
the  civil  law,  Uxor  Jul  get  radiis  mariti : 
The  wife  shines  by  the  rays  of  her  husband's 
light.  Now  every  faithful  soul  is  espoused  to 
Christ,  and  therefore  may  well  shine,  seeing 
the  Sun  himself  is  their  husband.  Head(jrns 
them  with  a  double  beauty  of  justijicnlion 
and  sanrj ijicntiirn  :  by  that  they  shine  more 
especially  to  <  jod,  by  this  to  men.  And  may 
not  these  two  be  signified  by  a  double  char- 
acter given  to  the  spouse  in  Cant.  vi.  20  ? 
She  is  fair  as  the  moon,  and  clear  as  the  sun. 
The  lesser  light  is  that  of  sanctification, 
as  the  moon  ;  thai  of  justification  the  greater, 
Dy  which  she  is  as  clear  as  the  sun.  The  sun 
is  perfectly  lutiiinous,  but  the  moon  is  but 
half  eiiliglitened  :  so,  the  believer  is  perfectly 
.justified,  but  sanctified  only  in  part :  his  one 
half,  his  flesh,  is  dark  :  and  as  the  partial  il- 
lumination is  the  reason  of  so  many  changes 
in  the  rnoon,  lo  which  changes  the  sun  is  not 
subject  at  all,  S(.  the  imperfection  of  a  Chris- 
tian's holiness  is  the  cause  of  so  many  wax- 
ings  9nd  wanings,  and  of  the  great  inequali- 
58 


ty  in  his  performances,  whereas  in  the  mean- 
while his  justification  remains  constantly  like 
itself.  This  is  imputed,  that  inherent.  The 
light  of  sanctification  must  begin  in  the  un- 
derstanding, and  thenbe  be  transfused  to  the 
affections,  the  inferior  parts  of  the  soul,  and 
thence  break  forth  and  shine  into  action. 
This  is  then  the  nature  of  the  duties,  Arise 
and  shine. 

II.  The  universality  of  the  subject,  which 
was  the  second  head,  is  this,  that  every  man 
that  knows  Christ,  is  here  engaged  to  shine 
too.  Neither  grandeur  exempts  from  the 
duty  of  shining,  nor  doth  meanness  exclude 
from  the  privilege  of  shining.  Men  of  low 
condition  in  this  world  need  not  despair  of  it, 
for  it  is  a  spiritual  act  ;  great  men  need  not 
despise  it,  for  it  is  a  noble  act,  lo  shine  by 
Christ's  light.  In  the  ..'lird  verse  of  this  chap- 
ter it  is  said  to  the  church,  Kimrs  shall  come 
to  the  brightness  of  thi/  rising.  To  what  end, 
but  to  partake  of  her  liijht  and  shine  with 
her?  And  indeed,  the  regal  attire  of  Christ's 
righteousness,  and  the  while  robes  ol'  holi- 
ness, will  exceedingly  well  become  kings  and 
princes.  Give  the  king  thy  judgments,  O 
Lord,  and  thy  righteousness  to  the  Ieing''s 
son. 

III.  Tlie  third  and  last  thing  propounded 
was  the  force  of  the  reason  ;  that  Christ's 
presence  engages  to  arise  and  shine.  Where- 
in it  is  supposed  that  Christ,  declared  in  the 
gospel,  is  the  light  which  is  said  here  to 
come,  and  the  glory  of  the  /.orrf  which  is  said 
to  be  risen;  so  that  now  it  sfiould  be  more 
amply  cleared,  how  Christ  is  light  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord,  and  what  his  coming  and 
rising  is.  But  of  these  afterward.  I  shall 
close  now  with  a  word  of  exhortation. 

I  Arise,  then,  for  the  glory  of  the  Lord  is 
'  risen.  The  day  of  the  gospel  is  t(;o  precious 
that  any  of  it  should  be  spent  in  sleep,  or  idle- 
ness, or  worthless  business.  Worthless  busi- 
ness detains  many  of  us.  Arise,  immortal 
souls,  from  turmoilins  in  the  dust,  and  work- 
ing in  the  clay  like  Egyptian  captives.  Ad- 
I  dress  yourselves  to  more  n(jble  work.  There 
is  a  Redeemer  come,  who  will  pay  your  ran- 
som, and  rescue  you  from  such  vile  service, 
for  more  excellent  employment.  It  is  strange 
how  the  souls  of  Christians  can  so  much  for- 
get their  first  original  from  heaven,  and  their 
new  hopes  of  returning  thither,  and  the  rich 
price  of  their  redemption,  and,  forgetting  all 
these,  dwell  so  low,  and  dote  so  much  upon 
trifles.  How  is  it  that  they  hear  not  their 
well-beloved's  voice  crying,  Aiise,  my  love, 
my  fair  one,  and  come  away  ?  Though  the 
eyes  ol' true  believers  are  so  enlightened,  that 
they  shall  not  sleep  unto  death,  yet  their 
spirits  are  often  seized  with  a  kind  of  drowsi- 
ness and  slumber,  and  sometimes  even  when 
they  should  be  of  most  activity.  The  time 
of  Christ's  check  to  his  three  disciples  made 
it  very  sharp,  though  the  wcrds  are  mild  : 
Wh'it  !  cmJd  you  not  walch  u>i  'Ji  mc  one  hour  i 
Shake  off,  believing  souls,  that  heavy  humor. 


45S  CHRIST  THE 

Ansr,  and  satiate  the  eye  of  faith  with  the 
coiiteiiiphiiion  of  Clirist's  beauty,  and  follow 
after  hiin,  lill  you  aitaiii  the  place  of  full  en- 
joyment. And  you  others  who  never  yet  saw 
liiii,  arise,  and  admire  iiis  niateliless  excel- 
«'ncy.  The  ihin<js  you  esteem  ijreat,  appear 
so  but  through  ignorance  of  his  greatness. 
His  brightness,  if  you  saw  it,  would  obscure 
to  you  ilie  greatest  splendor  of  the  world,  as 
all  those  stars  liiat  go  never  down  upon  us, 
yet  they  are  swallowed  up  in  the  surpassing 
light  of  the  sun  when  it  arises.  Shmd  up 
from  the  dead,  and  he  shall  give  you  li^ht. 
Arise  and  work  while  it  is  day,  for  the  night 
shall  come  wherein  none  can  work,  says  our 
Savior  himself.  Happy  are  they  who  rise 
early  in  the  morning  of  their  youth  ;  for  the 
day  of  life  is  very  short,  and  the  art  of  Chris- 
tianity long  and  difficult.  Is  it  not  a  grievous 
thing,  that  men  never  consider  why  they 
came  into  the  world,  till  they  be  upon  the 
point  of  going  out  again,  nor  think  how  to 
.ive,  till  they  be  summoned  to  die?  But  most 
of  all  unhappy,  he  who  never  wakens  out  of 
that  jileasing  dream  of  false  happiness,  till  he 
falls  into  eternal  misery.  Arise,  then,  betimes, 
and  prevent  that  sad  awakening.  [ 
And  being  risen,  put  on  your  beautiful  gar- 
ments. Isaiah  liii.  1.  Draw  toward  you  with 
the  hand  of  faith  the  rich  mantle  of  Christ's 
righteousness.  It  is  time  to  aivake,  says  the 
apostle,  and  presently  after.  Put  ye  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Rom.  xiii.  11,  14.  And  it 
is  a  wonder  how  a  sinner  can  rest,  while  he 
is  out  of  this  garment ;  for  there  is  no  other  in 
heaven  nor  on  earth,  can  make  him  shine  to 
God,  and  so  shelter  him  from  the  stroke  of 
justice.  Put  him  on,  then,  and  so  sliine  : 
being  thus  clothed,  thou  shalt  shine  in  justifi- 
cation, and  likewise  in  sanctity.  What  a 
privilege  is  it,  to  be  like  God  !  A  sanctified 
conscience,  what  can  be  said  against  it  ?  And 
first  have  an  enlightened  understanding,  for 
that  is  the  proper  seat  of  light.  That  igno- 
rant zeal  which  Rome  commends,  exposes  re- 
ligion to  scorn  and  contempt.  Heat  without 
light,  is  the  character  of  the  fire  of  hell.  I 
know,  all  are  not  tied  to  a  like  degree  of 
knowledge,  but  certainly,  all  are  obliged  to 
have  1  competency,  and  diligence  for  in- , 
crease  Aspire,  then,  to  be  intelligent  Chris- 
tians, and  to  know  well  what  you  believe. 
Let  your  minds  be  filled  with  knowlcd ge,  as 
the  ajjostle  speaks.  But  lei  it  not  stop  there  ; ', 
it  must  have  infiuence  into  the  will.  Lux  est 
vehiculum  c/iloris :  True  light  conveys  heat.  [ 
All  the  knowledge  that  the  natural  man  halh 
of  Christ,  not  warming  his  affection  to  Christ, 
is  but  Ignis  fatiius,  a  vain  light :  it  shall  never 
lead  him  to  happiness.  Saving  liirht  [)ro- 
duces  love,  and  by  that  acts.  Faith  works  hi/ 
love,  says  the  apostle.  That  breaks  forth  and 
Bhines  in  the  life,  in  godliness,  righteousness,  ^ 
and  sobriety.  Shine,  then,  in  all  these  ;  first, 
in  piety  toward  God.  for  this  is  the  reflection 
of  those  ra'vs  of  light  back  toward  iheir  source,  , 
and  this  will  command  the  other  two.    No  i 


LIGHT  AND  [SEit.  IV. ^ 

man  that  shines  in  godliness  will  wallow  in 
injustice  and  iniemperauce.  Guile  and  wrong 
can  not  endure  the  light,  they  that  are  unjust 
can  not  shine.  And  let  ihem  never  offer  to 
shine  anu)ng  Christians,  vho  are  not  sober, 
but  stained  with  rioi  and  uncleamiess.  These 
foul  enormities  lay  waste  the  conscience,  and 
put  out  the  light.  How  can  any  seeds  of  grace 
subsist  undrowned,  that  are  exposed  tn^  daily 
deluge  of  cups  ?  How  can  thai  Spirit 
that  chose  the  likeness  of  a  chaste  dove,  dwell 
and  give  light  in  that  soul  which  is  a  nest  of 
impure  and  filthy  lusts?  No;  there  can  be 
no  fellowship  between  this  celestial  light, 
whereby  we  should  shine,  and  those  infernal 
workings  of  darkness.  Let  profane  men  hold 
it  a  chief  strain  of  wit,  to  scoff  at  i)urity,  but 
you  who  pretend  heavenward  in  good  earnest, 
and  mean  to  shine  in  glory,  sliine  here  in  ho- 
liness ;  -For  without  holiness  no  man  shall  see 
God.  And  do  it  with  these  (jualifications  : 
(1.)  Constantly — in  every  estate.  Let  not 
this  Divine  light  go  out,  neither  by  day  ia 
prosperity,  nor  by  night  in  adversity.  In  ev- 
ery place.  Do  not  shine  clear,  and  be  dark 
in  your  chamber  :  they  that  do  thus,  liave  their 
reward.  That  is  a  sad  word,  if  rightly  under, 
stood.  Beware  of  hypocrisy.  (2.)  Shine  ^;ro- 
gressively,  gaining  still  more  and  more  vicio 
ry  over  darkness,  till  you  attain  unmixed  and 
perfect  light.  The  way  of  the  just,  says  Sol- 
omon, is  like  a  shining  light,  that  shinelh 
more  and  more  unto  the  "perfect  day.  Prov.  iv. 
IS.  (3.)  Shine  humbly,  to  his  glory  whose 
light  you  borrow  ;  not  to  show  forth  youi  own 
excellencies,  but  his,  who  hath  called  ynu 
from  darkness  to  his  marvellous  light.  1  Pet 
ii.  9.  If  we  be  children  of  light,  our  bright- 
ness must  praise  the  Father  of  lights.  Let 
your  light  so  shine  before  men.  that  they,  see- 
ing your  good  works  (not  yourselves,  if  you 
can  be  hid  ;  as  the  sun  aflbrds  its  light,  and 
will  scarce  suffer  us  to  look  upon  itself)  may 
glorify  (not  you,  but)  your  heavenly  Father. 
Matt.  V.  6.    To  conclude, 

The  pure  light  of  the  chiirch  is  revived,  and 
the  glory  of  the  Lord  is  risen  upon  you,  and 
upon  this  glory  there  shall  be  a  defence.  If 
God  be  your  glory  in  the  midst  of  you,  he  will 
be  likewise  a  wall  of  fire  round  about  you. 
All  the  danger  is,  if  we  liill  short  in  the  duty 
of  shining.  But  as  you  desire  that  this  glory 
should  abide  and  dwell  among  you,  lei  all  es- 
tates of  men  provoke  one  another  to  shine 
bright  in  holiness.  You  who  either  by  birth 
or  office  are  in  eminent  stations,  know  that 
you  were  set  there  to  be  eminent  and  exem- 
plary in  shining,  as  stars  of  more  notable 
magnitude.  You  who  are  ministers  of  this 
light,  know  that  i/ou  are  the  light  of  the 
world  ;  and  if  the  very  liffhl  become  darkness, 
how  great  will  that  darkness  be  !  You  that 
are  of  a  lower  order,  know  that  you  must 
shine  too  ;  for  it  is  a  common  duty.  There  is 
a  certain  company  of  small  stars  in  the  fir- 
mament, which,  though  they  can  not  be  each 
one  severally  seen,  yet,  being  many,  their 


ISA.  IX.  ].] 


LUSTRE  OF  THE  CHURCH. 


459 


united  light  makes  a  conspicuous  briffhtness 
in  the  heavens,  which  is  called  the  milky 
■wriy :  so,  though,  the  shining  of  every  private 
Christian  is  not  so  much  severally  remarka- 
ble, yet  the  concourse  and  meeting  of  their 
light  together  will  make  a  bright  path  of  ho- 
liness shine  in  the  church. 

Now  to  the  end  we  may  each  one  shine  in 
our  measure,  we  must  learn  to  turn  ourselves 
often  toward  him  from  whom  our  light  is  de- 
rived. Conversing  with  him,  will  make  us 
more  and  more  like  him.  There  is  a  secret 
unknown  virtue  for  this  purpose  in  secret 
prayer  and  meditation.  Were  we  more  in 
the  mount  with  God,  our  faces  would  shine 
more  with  men.  Let  us  then  rescue  from 
the  world  all  the  time  we  can,  to  resort  fre- 
quently thither,  till  such  time  as  the  soul, 
which  is  now  often  pulled  down  a^ain  by 
the  flesh,  shall  let  that  mantle  fall  and  come 
down  no  more,  but  shine  there  withnut  spot, 
and  be  for  ever  satisfied  with  her  Maker's 
image. 


SERMON  V^. 

CHRIST  THE  LIGHT  ANp  LUSTRE  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

Art  imitates  nature:  and  the  nearer  it 
comes  to  nature  in  its  effects,  it  is  the  more 
excellent.  Grace  is  the  new  nature  of  a  Chris- 
tian, and  hy()ocrisy  that  art  which  counter- 
feits it;  and  the  more  ex(|uisite  it  is  in  imita- 
tion, it  is  the  riKjrc  plausible  to  men,  but  the 
more  abominable  to  God.  It  nriy  frame  a 
spiritual  man  in  image  so  to  the  life,  that  not 
only  others,  hut  even  the  hvpocrite  himself 
may  adtnire  it,  and  favoring  his  own  artifice, 
may  be  deceived  so  far.  as  to  sav,  and  to 
think,  it  lives,  and  fall  in  love  with  it :  but  he 
is  no  less  abhorred  by  the  Searcher  of  hearts, 
than  pleasing  to  himself  Surely,  this  inis- 
chief  of  hypocrisy  can  never  be  enough  in- 
veighed against.  When  religion  is  in  request, 
it  is  the  chief  malady  of  the  church,  and  num- 
bers (lie  of  it  ;  thou;jh,  because  it  is  a  subtle 
and  inward  evil,  i;  be  little  perceived.  It  is 
to  be  feared  there  are  many  sick  of  it,  who 
look  well  and  comely  in  God's  outward  wor- 
ship, and  they  may  pass  well  in  ^ood  weath- 
er, in  times  of  peace,  but  days  of  adversity 
are  days  of  trial.  The  prosperous  estate  of 
the  church  makes  hyjiocrites.  and  her  distress 
discovers  them.  Rut  if  thcv  escape  such  trial, 
there  is  one  inevitable  day  cominor,  wherein 
all  secret  thini:s  shall  be  made  manifest.  Men 
shall  be  turned  inside  out:  and  amonj  all  sin- 
ners that  shall  then  be  brought  before  thai 
judijment-seat,  the  deformedesi  si^ht  shall  be 
an  unmasked  hvpcjcrite,  and  the  heaviest  sen- 
tence shiill  be  /(/f  portion. 

Oh  !  lliat  the  consideration  of  this  would 
scare  us  out  of  that  false  disguise  in  time,  and 
R  *  vs  all  upon  the  study  of  sincerity  !  Precious 


is  that  grace  in  God's  esteem  :  a  little  of  it  will 
weigh  down  mountains  of  formal  religion,  in^ 
the  balance  of  the  sanctuary.  Which  of  ua 
have  not  now  brought  hypocrisy,  more  or  less, 
into  the  house  of  God  ?  Oh,  that  it  were  not 
with  intention  to  nourish  it,  but  with  desire 
to  be  here  cured  of  it  I  For  he  alone  who 
hates  it  so  much,  can  cure  it  ;  he  alone  can 
confer  upon  us  that  sincerity  wherein  he 
mainly  delights.  If  we  have  a  mind,  indeed, 
to  be  endued  with  it,  it  is  nowhere  else  to  be 
Kad  :  we  must  entreat  it  of  God  by  humble 
prayer,  in  the  name  of  his  well-beloved  Son. 
by  the  assistance  of  his  Holy  Spirit. 

Isaiah  Ix.  L 

Arise,  shine,  for  thy  light  is  come,  and  the  glory  of 
the  Lord  is  risen  upon  thee. 

Truly,  light  is  sweet,  and  it  is  a  pleasing 
tliiriir  to  hehold  the  sun,  says  the  preacher, 
Eccl.  xi.7.  Rut  the  interchange  of  ni^ht  with 
day  adds  to  its  beauty,  and  the  longest  nigh' 
makesday  the  welcornest;  as  that  people  well 
know,  whose  situation  in  the  world  gives 
them  a  five  or  six  months'  night  all  of  one 
piece.  It  is  reported  of  some  of  them,  that 
when  they  conceive  their  night  draws  toward 
an  end,  they  put  on  their  richest  apparel,  and 
climb  up  to  the  highest  mountains,  with  emu- 
lation who  shall  first  discover  the  returning 
light;  which,  so  soon  as  it  appears,  they 
salute  with  acclamations  of  joy,  and  welcome 
it  with  soleiiHi  feastinir,  and  all  other  testi- 
monies of  exceeding  gladness.  Rut  such  is 
the  lethar^M'  of  sinful  man,  that  he  stirs  not 
to  meet  his  spiritual  light  :  and,  which  is 
worse,  when  it  comes  upon  him,  it  finds  him 
in  love  with  darkness.  Instead  of  his  shouts 
of  joy  for  this  light,  many  a  cry  must  be 
sounded  in  his  ears,  to  awaken  him  ;  and  it  is 
well,  too.  if  at  length  he  hear  and  obey  this 
voice,  Arise,  shine,  for  thy  liffht  is  come.  It 
is  clear  that  the  words  contain  a  coimnand,  and 
the  reason  of  it:  the  command  to  a  twofold 
act ;  the  reason  under  two  expressions,  pro- 
portionately different.  Good  reason  ihechurch 
should  arise,  when  the  Lord^s  g/nry  is  risen 
upon  her  ;  and  it  is  very  con<rruous  she  should 
be  enli fh/rnrd  and  shine,  when  hrr  li^h/  is 
c-ome.  Of  those  two  acts,  or  duties,  somewhat 
was  fortnerly  spolcen  ;  and  the  reason  likewise 
was  made  use  of  so  far  as  relative  to  those 
duties,  and  tending  to  their  enforcement.  Rut 
the  meaning  of  the  phrases  in  which  the 
reason  is  expressed,  was  rather,  at  that  time, 
supposed,  than  either  duly  proved  or  illustra- 
ted ;  so  that  it  will  be  now  ex[)edient  to  con- 
sider,simply  in  themselves,  these  latter  words  ; 
Thy  li<rhl  is  come,  and  The  glory  of  Ihr  Lord 
is  risen  upon  thee. 

So  far  as  this  [)rophecy  hath  respect  to  the 
restoration  of  the  .lews  from  the  Babylonish 
captivity,  that  tem[)or;'l  deliverance,  and  the 
ensuing  pear-e  atid  prospentv,  was  xhv'ir  light 
and  that  Divine  power  by  which  it  was  effect- 


460 


CHRIST  THE  LIGHT  AMD 


[Ser.  V. 


ed,  was  this  glory  o  f  the  Lord.  And,  indeed,  I 
botn  these  exi)i"essions  are  frequently  used  in 
fuch  a  sense  in  holy  writ,  ^^'hcn  I  wailed 
for  lishl,  tlirre  came  darkness,  says  Job, 
chap.  XXX.  26.  So  [saiah  Iviii.  8,  and  many 
other  places.  And  l/ie  i>lnry  of  the  Lord  is 
used  tor  a  singular  eHVct  ol'liis  power,  John 
."ci.  40,  Isaiah  Ix.  18,  and  elsewhere.  But  this 
literal  sense  is  hut  a  step  to  elevate  the  |)rophet 
to  a  siofht  of  Christ's  spiritual  kingdom :  which 
is  usual  with  him,  as  our  Savior  himself 
testifies  of  another  of  his  prophecies  :  Thesis 
things  said  Jsniah  when  he  saic  his  glory,  and 
spake  of  him.  John  xii.  41.  It  was  a  sight  of 
that  same  glory,  that  makes  him  say,  Thy 
light  is  come. 

In  these  words,  there  are  three  things  con- 
cerning Chrisi,  represented  to  the  church's 
view.  First,  His  beauty  and  excellency  in 
that  he  is  called  lislil,  fnd  the  glory  of  the 
Lord.  S'-cutidly,  The  church's  propriety  and 
interest  in  him,  ihi/  li^ht,  and  risen  upon  thee; 
which  hath  a  restrictive  emphasis,  as  the  very 
next  verse  doth  clearly  manifest.  As  he  is 
originally  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  the  light 
of  the  Lord,  lumen  de  luminc,  so  he  is,  com- 
municatively, the  church's  light,  and  her 
glory  too,  as  it  is  expressed  in  the  19th  verse 
of  the  same  chapter.  Thy  God  thy  glory. 
Thus  hath  she  both  his  worth,  and  her  own 
right  in  him,  to  consider.  7'/(/r<//!/,  His  pres- 
ence, or  her  actual  possession,  lie  is  come  and 
is  risen.  And  in  these,  the  church  and  each 
faithful  soul  may  find  a  double  spring  of  afi'ec- 
tion,  the  one  of  love,  the  other  of  jov.  The 
iranscendent  beauty  of  Christ  makes  him  the 
choicest  object  of  love,  and  her  property  in 
him,  or  title  to  him,  together  with  possession, 
is  the  proper  cause  of  solid  joy. 

First,  then,  ihis  excellency  is  expressed  by 
those  two  characters,  light  and  the  glory  of 
the  Lord.  Concerning  which,  it  will  be  fit 
both  to  demonstrate  that  they  arc  the  proper 
titles  of  Christ,  and  here  to  be  taken  for  him  ; 
as  also,  to  show  what  they  signify  in  him. 

Indeed  the  apostle  in  his  second  epistle  to 
the  Corinthians  (ch.  iii.)  insists  much  in  ex- 
toUinir  both  the  light  and  the  glory  of  the 
gospel,  and  in  the  4th  verse  of  the  next  chap- 
ter, speaks  of  the  liirltt  of  the  glorious  gospel, 
but  he  immediately  intimates  whence  it  hath 
this  lifrht  and  glory:  The  glorious  gospel  of 
Christ,  says  he,  ivho  is  the  imai;e  of  God.  So 
that  it  is  most  unnecessary  to  inquire  whether 
the  Messiah,  or  the  word  that  reveals  him, 
be  rather  here  couched  under  these  terms  of 
h<rht  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord.  These  two 
agree  so  well  together,  and  these  v^"~ds  agree 
80  well  with  them  both,  that  it  were  an  injury 
to  attempt  to  sever  them.  All  the  difference 
will,  ce  this  ;  Christ  is  that  incomplex  and 
substantial  light,  the  gospel  that  complex 
liffht  wherein  he  appears.  But  (not  to  be 
guiltv  of  dark  terms,  especially  in  a  discourse 
oflitrht),!  take  it,  in  this  resemblance,  Christ 
is  the  sun,  and  the  gospel  his  proper  sphere 
orheaven,  whtrein  he  giveslight  to  his  church. 


He  is  primarily  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  the 
gospel  is  so  by  participation,  because  it  de- 
clares him:  so  that  much  of  that  which  shall 
be  spoken  here  of  Christ,  will  he  secondarily 
to  be  understood  of  the  gosj-tel  of  Christ. 

That  Christ  is  light,  the  Scripture  speaks 
abundantly.  His  own  voice  concerning  him- 
self, notwithstanding  the  cavil  of  the  Phari- 
sees, is  above  all  exceittion,  for  he  is  truth 
itself :  I  am  the  light  of  the  world,  sailh  he; 
he  that  folloirs  me  shall  not  tcalk  in  darkness. 
John  viii.  12.  The  Father  who  sent  him, 
gives  him  the  same  title :  /  will  give  thee  for 
a  light  of  the  Gentiles,  Isa.  xlii.  f)  ;  and  xlix. 
6.  And  not  to  multiply  citations  of  the  proph- 
ets and  evangelists,  who  with  one  consent  all 
magnify  this  light,  take  the  true  testimony 
of  a  false  prophet ;  and,  indeed,  the  favorable 
witness  of  an  adversary  is  strongest :  it  is  thai 
of  Balaam,  who  saw  that  Christ  was  light, 
though,  because  he  saw  him  afar  off  (as  he 
says  himself),  and  had  not  his  eye  fortified, 
like  the  true  prophets,  he  discerned  him  but 
as  a  star :  There  shall  co?nfi  a  star  out  of 
Jacob.  Numb.  xxiv.  17.  But  what  need  we 
go  so  far,  to  be  certified  what  this  light  and 
glory  of  the  Lord  is?  The  Lord  of  glory 
himself,  in  the  very  next  verse  to  the  text, 
assures  us  of  it  :  Tlpon  thee  shall  the  Lord 
arise.  And  in  the  19th  verse,  17ie  Lord  shall 
he  thy  everlastiiig  light,  and  thy  God  thy 
glory. 

By  this  time,  I  hope,  it  is  clear,  that  the 
Eternal  Son  of  God,  co-essential  with  his 
Father,  was  he  who  gave  accomplishment  to 
this  prophecy,  by  appearing  to  the  world 
wrapped  up  in  the  darkness  of  human  nature. 
He  is  that  day-spring  from  on  high,  whi'ch 
hath  visited  vs,  as  old  Zacharias  speaks, 
Luke  i.  78. 

Among  all  created  excellences,  none  can  be 
borrowed  more  fitly  representing  Christ  than 
\.h^\.o{  light.    And  is  it  not  Christ  that  decks 
I  his  church  with  supernatural  beauty,  and 
!  makes  it  indeed  Ktm,,.  t.  a  comely  Avorld,  call- 
'  ed  out  of  the  world  ?    But  the  manifold  agree- 
ment of  liglH  with  Christ  doth  require  more 
particular  consideration.  , 

Light  is  (as  they  call  it)  primv.m  visihile, 
the  first  object  of  sight.  And  Jesus  Ciirist, 
whom  the  apostle  styles  God  over  all,  blessed 
for  ever,  is  primum  intelligibile,  the  prime 
object  of  the  understanding.  What  is  then 
'become  of  that  Divine  spark,  that  understand- 
ing soul,  .vhich  the  Father  of  spirits  breathes 
into  these  bodies,  that  all  our  thoughts  creep 
here  below,  and  leave  their  chief  and  noblest 
object  unconsidered  ?  Which  of  us  may  not 
complain  (though  few  of  us  do),  that  our  souls 
have  either  no  wings  to  elevate  themselves 
to  the  contemplation  of  him  from  whom  they 
issued,  or  if  tliey  make  attempts  at  it,  our 
afleclions,  engaged  to  the  world,  make  us, 
like  a  bird  tied  by  the  foot,  fall  j)rcsently  down 
again  into  the  mire  ?  It  is  hiirh  time  to  leave 
hunting  shadows,  and  to  turn  our  internal  eyt 
to  the  beholding  of  this  uncreated  light. 


ISA.  Ix.  1.] 


LUSTRE  OF  THE  CHURCH. 


46 


In  this  elementary  world,  lifi^ht  being-  (as  we 
nere)  ihe  first  thing  visible,  all  things  are  seen 
by  it,  and  it  by  itself.  Thus  is  Christ  among 
spiritual  things,  in  the  elect  world  of  his 
church.  All  things  are  made  manifest  by  ihe 
lis;hl,  says  the  apostles,  Ephes.  v.  13,  speak- 
ing of  Christ,  as  the  following  verse  doth 
evidently  testify.  It  is  in  his  word  that  he 
shine«,  and  makes  it  a  directing  and  convin- 
cing liglu,  to  discover  all  things  that  concern 
his  church  and  himself,  and  to  be  known  by 
its  own  brightness.  How  impenineni,  then, 
is  that  question  so  much  tossed  by  the  Romish 
church,  How  know  you  the  Scriptures  (say 
they)  to  be  the  word  of  God,  without  the 
testimony  of  the  church?  I  would  ask  one 
of  them  again,  how  they  can  know  that  it  is 
dayliffht,  except  some  one  light  a  candle  to 
let  them  see  it.  They  are  little  versed  in 
Holy  Scripture,  who  know  not  that  it  is  fre- 
quently called  //"■/(/ ;  and  they  are  senseless 
who  Know  not  that  light  is  seen  and  known 
by  itself.  JJ  our  ^oafel  'he  hid.  says  the 
Apostle,  it  i.t  hid  to  them  that  ■perish,  the  S;od 
of  this  vjorld  having  blinded  their  minds 
against  the  light  of  the  glorious  gospel  of 
Christ.  2  Cor.  iv.  3.  No  wonder  if  such  stand 
in  need  of  a  testimony.  A  blind  man  knows  not 
that  it  is  light  at  noonday,  but  by  report ;  not 
to  those  that  have  eyes,  light  is  seen  by  itself. 

Again,  ligiit  makes  all  other  things  that 
are  m  themselves  visible,  to  become  actually 
visible,  as  they  speak  :  so.  by  the  word  of  this 
sub>itantial  word,  Jesus  Christ,  all  things  in 
religion  are  tried  and  discovered.  The  very 
authority  of  the  church,  which  they  obtrude 
so  confidently,  must  be  stopi)ed  and  examined 
by  these  Scriptures,  which  they  would  make 
stand  to  its  courtesy.  Doctrines  and  worship 
must  be  tried  by  this  light ;  and  that  will  not 
endure  this  trial,  must  not  be  endured  in  the 
house  of  God.  To  the  law  and  to  the  testimo- 
ny, says  the  prophet,  if  they  speak  not  ac- 
cording to  this  word,  it  is  because  there  is  no 
tight  in  them.  Isa.  viii.  20.  The  rays  of 
Christ's  light  are  displayed  through  both  his 
Testaments,  and  in  them  we  see  him. 

But  oh,  how  sublime  is  the  knowledge  of 
him  I  No  one  is  ignorant  that  there  is  light, 
yet,  what  light  is,  few  know  ;  the  best  wits 
are  troubled  to  define  it  :  so,  all  that  bear  the 
name  of  Christians  acknowledge  that  Christ 
is,  but  to  know  wiuit  he  is,  is  of  marvellous 
difficulty.  In  a  speculative  way,  unsoundable 
is  the  deiith  of  his  nature  and  properties. 
And  his  genernlion  who  can  declare  ?  says  our 
prophet,  Isa.  liii.  8.  I  define  not,  whether 
his  eternal  generation  be  meant,  or  his  incar- 
nation in  time.  These  are  mysteries  that 
shall  hold  the  very  angels  busy  in  admiration 
for  ever.  And  as  for  experimental  knowledge) 
by  faith,  how  small  is  the  number  of  those 
that  are  tru'  y  acfjuainted  with  it  ! 

Again,  1  ght  fitly  resembles  Christ  in 
purity:  it  visits  many  impure  places,  and 
.ighis  upon  ihe  basest  parts  of  the  earth,  and 
vet  remains  most  pure  and  undefiled.  Christ 


;  sees  and  takes  notice  of  all  the  enormities  and 
sinful  poUutions  in  the  world  ;  as  David  says 
of  the  sun,  there  is  nnthtns;  hid  from  his  bcam^: 
yea,  many  of  those  foul  evils  he  cures,  and 
purgeth  away  these  pollutions  ;  and  yet,  he 
is  never  stained  by  them  in  the  least  degree. 
He  isa  physician  not  capable  of  infection,  and 
therefore  while  he  dwelt  among  men,  he 
shunned  not  publicans  and  sinners,  but  sought 
them  rather,  for  Avith  such  was  his  business 
and  employment.  Indeed,  for  a  frail  man  to 
j  be  too  bold  in  frequenting  profane  and  obsti- 
nate persons,  though  with  intention  to  reclaim 
[  them,  is  not  always  so  safe.  Metus  est  ne 
[  attrahant.  They  may  pull  him  in,  who 
would  help  them  forth,  and  pollute  him  who 
would  cleanse  them.  But  our  Savior,  the 
light  of  the  world,  runs  no  «ucli  hazard  :  he 
is  stronger  than  ihe  perverst,«t  seiner,  yea, 
than  the  prince  of  darkness  himself,  over 
whom  his  banners  are  always  victorious,  and 
purer  than  to  be  in  danger  of  pollution.  His 
precious  blood  is  a  fountain  opened  for  sin 
and  uncleanness:  sinners  are  [lurified  by  it, 
and  it  is  not  defded  by  them.  Thousands  have 
washed  in  it,  yet  it  shall  abide,  and  always 
shall  be  most  perfectly  pure.  And  such  a 
hit^h  priest  was  needful  for  us,  who  is  li^au'rof, 
undefiled,  and  who,  though  conversant  with 
sinners,  to  communicate  to  them  his  goodness, 
was  yet  separate  from  sinners  in  immunity 
from  their  evil.  Heb.  vii.  26. 

To  this  agrees  well  that  title  which  the 
prophet  Malachi  gives  him,  chap.  iv.  2, 
when  he  calls  him  the  .S;/?;  of  Righteousness , 
full  of  purity  and  righteousness,  as  the  sun  is 
of  light  ;  all  luminous,  without  spot  :  subject 
to  no  eclipse  in  himself,  bis  light  being  his 
own,  though  our  sins  interposed  may  hide 
him  sometimes  from  us,  as  those  real  eclipses 
in  the  sun  are  rather  ours, -for  we  are  deprived 
of  light,  but  not  of  the  sun.  Christ  is  in  many 
ways  most  fitly  called  the  Sun  ;  for  since  all 
created  light  falls  infinitely  short  of  his  worth, 
the  prince  and  chief  of  lights,  the  sun,  can 
not  but  suit  best,  so  far  as  may  be,  to  set  forth 
his  excellency. 

The  light  of  the  sun  is  neither  parted  nor 
diminished,  by  being  imjiarted  to  many  sev. 
eral  people  and  nations  that  behold  it  at  one 
time  ;  nor  is  the  righteousness  of  this  Sun  of 
Righteousness  cither  lessened  to  himself,  or 
to  individual  believers,  by  many  partaking 
of  it  at  once  :  it  is  wholly  conferred  upon 
each  one  of  them,  and  remains  whole  in 
himself.  Hence  it  is,  that  not  only  Christ  in- 
vites so  liberally  sinners  to  come  to  him,  but 
even  justified  persons  would  so  gladly  draw 
all  others  to  lay  hold  on  this  rigbteousnes? 
of  their  Redeemer  ;  knowing  well,  that  if 
all  the  world  were  enriched  by  it,  they  them- 
selves would  be  no  whit  the  poorer. 

Again,  the  sun  hath  a  vivifying  power,  not 
only  upon  plants  and  vegetables,  but,  if  phi- 
losophers be  right,  Sol  et  homo  generant  ho- 
mmem,  it  hath  a  special  influence  in  the  gen. 
eration  of  man.  But  it  isbcth  more  certainly 


402 


CHRIST  THE  LIGHT  AND 


ami  more  eminently  true  of  this  Sun  we  speak  i 
ol',  ill  man's  regeneration :  that  lie  is  the  j 
proper  and  principal  eflicient  of  it.     The  \ 
evangelist  ealls  him  at  once,  t/ie  light  a?id  the 
life  of  men.  Joliii  i.  4.    To  say  nothing  of 
him  as  a  treasure,  he  is  the  source  of  our 
spiritual  life  and  motion.  ] 

When  the  sun  takes  its  course  toward  us 
in  the  season  of  the  year,  it  drives  away  the 
sharp  I'rosis  of  the  heavy  fogs  of  winter,  it 
clears  the  heavens,  decks  the  earth  with  va- 
riety of  plants  and  flowers,  and  awakes  ihe 
birds  to  the  pleasant  strains  of  their  natural 
music.  When  Christ,  after  a  kind  of  winter 
absence,  returns  to  visit  a  declining  church, 
admirable  is  the  change  that  he  produces: 
all  begins  to  flourish  by  his  sweet  influence  ;  [ 
his  house,  his  worship,  his  people,  are  all 
clothed  with  a  new  beauty  ;  but  it  is  spiritu- 
al, and  therefore,  none  but  spiritual  eyes  can 
discern  it.  When  he  will  thus  return,  all 
the  power  and  policy  of  man  can  no  more 
hinder  him,  than  it  could  stay  the  course  of 
the  siin  in  its  circle.  In  like  manner,  a  de- 
serted, forsaken  soul,  that  can  do  nothing  but 
languish  and  droop,  while  Christ  withdraws 
himself,  what  inexpressible  vigor  and  alac- 
ri;y  finds  it  at  his  returning  !  Then  those 
graces  which,  while  ihey  lurked,  seemed  to 
have  been  lost  and  quite  extinguished,  bud 
forth  anew  with  pleasant  color  and  fragrant 
iinell.  It  is  the  liglit  of  his  countenance  that 
baiiishetli  their  false  fears,  that  strengthens 
their  faiih,  and  cures  their  spiritual  infirmi- 
ties. The  Sun  is  indeed  the  sovereign  phy- 
sician :  Unto  you  thai  fear  my  name,  shall 
the  Sun  of  Rig-hteousness  arise  with  healing 
under  his  w/nax.  Mai.  iv.  2. 

Finally,  all  darkness  flies  away  before  him  : 
It  was  his  arising  in  the  world  that  made  the 
day  break  and  the  shadows  fly  away.  The 
types  and  shadows  of  the  law  were  then 
abolished.  It  was  his  light  that  dispelled  the 
mists  of  ignorance  and  idolatry,  and  he  alone 
delivers  the  soul  from  the  night  of  sin  and 
misery  produced  by  it.  All  the  stars,  and  the 
moon  with  them,  can  not  make  it  day  in  the 
world  :  this  is  the  sun's  prerogative:  nor  can 
nature's  highest  light,  the  most  refined  sci- 
ence and  morality,  make  it  day  in  the  soul  ; 
for  this  is  Christ's. 

The  common  light  of  reason,  every  man 
that  comes  into  the  world  bath  from  him  as 
his  Creator  ;  but  the  special  light  of  grace, 
they  alone  who  are  born  again,  have  from 
him  as  their  Savior.  Gross  is  the  darkness 
of  every  natural  mind,  till  Christ  enlighten 
it :  it  can  neither  discern  nor  receive  the 
things  of  God,  Oil  (it  ytrai.  were  darkness, 
says  the  apostle,  but  now  are  ye  light  in  the 
Lord.  Ephes.  v.  8.  The  natural  mind  is 
nothing  else  but  a  mass  of  darkness  ;  and  the 
companion  of  darkness  is  confusion,  as  it  was 
in  the  mass  of  the  world  before  light  was 
created.  And  what  is  ttiere  under  heaven  | 
more  confused  than  a  carnal  mind  ;  the  affec-  j 
lion.s  quite   out  of  order,  and  though  all 


naught,  yet,  sometimes  fighting  one  with  an. 
other,  and  continually  hurrying  the  judg- 
ment whither  they  please?  Now,  to  dissi- 
pate this  darkness,  and  remedy  this  confu- 
sion, Christ  shines  externally  in  his  word. 
But  too  much  daily  experience  testifies,  that 
this  is  not  siifllcient :  therefore  to  those  whom 
he  will  make  children  of  the  light,  to  meet 
with  this  outward  light  of  his  word,  liegivea 
another  internal  light  by  the  S])irit.  The  sua 
can  make  dark  things  clear,  but  it  can  not 
make  a  blind  man  see  them  :  but  herein  ia 
the  excellency  of  this  Sun,  that  he  illumi- 
nates not  only  the  object,  but  the  faculty  ; 
does  not  only  reveal  tlie  mysteries  of  his 
kingdom,  but  opens  blind  eyes  to  behold 
them.  And  the  first  lineament  of  the  re- 
newed image  of  God  in  man,  is  that  light  in 
the  understanding,  removing  not  only  that 
simple  ignorance  of  divine  tilings,  but  those 
misconceiis,  likewise,  and  false  principles, 
and  that  wicked  pertinacity,  whereof  man's 
mind  is  naturally  full.  He  who  at  first  com' 
rnandid  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  in- 
fuseth  saving  knowledge  and  light  into  the 
dark  soul  of  man.  And  this  light  (as  was 
said)  kindles  love.  It  is  rehicuhnn  caJorts, 
hath  a  powerful  influence,  begetting  heat  in 
the  aflfections.  Nor  can  this  divine  light  be 
ever  again  fully  extinguished,  but  conducts 
the  soul  that  hath  received  it,  till  it  be  re- 
ceived tc  '  land  of  light  and  i)erfect  hap- 
piness. Thus  in  our  Eedeemer  is  the  foun- 
tain of  life,  as  the  psalmist  speaks,  and  ir 
his  light  do  we  see  light.  Psalm  xxxvi.  9. 

He  is  likewise  here  styled  the  glory  of 
the  Lord.  In  2  Sam.  iv.  the  ark  of  God  is 
called  the  glory,  but  it  enjoyeth  thai  name 
as  a  type  of  Christ,  in  whom  now  that  which 
the  ark  contained  is  fulfilled.  The  taberna- 
cle is  called  the  dwelling  of  God's  glory, 
Psalm  xxvi.  8,  likewise  typifying  him,  in  the 
tabernacle  of  whose  human  nature  that  glo- 
ry dwells  far  more  excellently.  John  i.  14. 
KdKi'inMaiii  h  fifiTi/,  He  dwell  in  a  tabernacle 
among  us,  and  we  saiu  his  glory  as  the  glory 
of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God,  full  of 
grace  and  truth.  The  author  of  the  epistle 
to  the  Hebrews  calls  him  the  bright- 

ness of  his  Fttther''s  glory,  and  the  charac- 
ter of  his  person.  Heb.  i.  3.  And  under 
these  expressions  lies  that  remarkable  mys- 
tery of  the  Son's  eternal  relation  to  the  Fa- 
ther, which  is  rather  humbly  to  be  adored 
than  boldly  to  be  explained,  either  by  God's 
perfect  understanding  of  his  own  essence,  or 
by  any  other  notion.  It  is  true,  he  is  called 
the  wisdom  of  the  Father,  but  this  wisdom  is 
ti  wonderful  for  us.  He  is  called  The  ^\ord, 
but  what  this  word  means,  I  think  we  shall 
not  well  know  till  we  see  him  face  to  face, 
and  contemplate  him  in  the  light  of  glory. 
Meanwhile  we  may  see  him  to  he  the  glory 
of  the  Lord,  in  a  safer  way,  and  in  a  suflfi- 
cient  measure  to  guide  us  to  that  clear  vision 
reserved  above  for  us.  We  saw  his  glory, 
says  that  sublime  evangelist.  But  how  could 


[SA.   IX.  1.] 


LUSTRE  CF  im  oiiL/RCH. 


463 


'his  excellent  glory  be  seen  by  sinful  men, 
and  not  astonish  and  strike  dead  the  behold- 
ers ?  fie  was  made  jlesh  and  dwelt  among  us, 
says  he,  and  so  ice  saw  his  gl  )ry.  That  majes- 
ly  which  we  could  never  have  looked  upon, 
he  veiled  with  human  flesh,  that  we  might 
not  die,  yea,  live  by  seeing  him.  There  he 
stood  behind  the  wall,  and  showed  himself 
through  the  lattice.  In  him  dwelt  the  ful- 
ness of  the  Godhead,  Col.  ii.  9,  but  it  was 
bodily  :  for  who  could  have  endured 
the  splendor  of  the  Godhead's  fulness,  if  that 
cloud  of  his  body  had  not  been  drawn  be- 
tween ?  And  through  it  did  shine  that  grace 
and  trutii,  that  wisdom  and  power,  in  the 
work  of  our  redemption,  whereby  he  was 
clearly  manifested  to  be  the  glory  of  the 
Lord. 

Surely,  we  need  not  now  ask  the  church, 
or  a  believing  soul.  What  is  thy  beloved  more 
than  another  ?  Or  if  we  do,  well  may  she  an- 
swer, He  is  the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand, 
and  altogether  lovehj  ;  for  he  is  the  light  of 
the  world  and  the  glory  nf  the  Lord.  Let 
not  the  numerous  titles  of  earthly  potentates 
be  once  admitted  into  comparison  with  these. 
If  we  believe  David,  Psalm  Ixii.  9,  the  state- 
liest things  and  persons  in  the  world,  being 
balanced  with  vanity  itself,  are  found  lifjhter 
than  it  :  and  shall  we  offer  to  weigh  them 
with  Christ?  If  we  knew  him  rightly,  we 
would  not  sell  the  least  glance  or  beam  of 
this  light  of  his  countenance,  for  the  highest 
favor  of  morial  man,  though  it  were  constant 
and  unchaiiireable,  which  it  is  not.  It  is  ig- 
norance of  Christ  that  maintains  the  credit  of 
those  vanities  we  admire.  The  Christian  that 
is  truly  acquainted  with  him,  enamored  with 
the  brightness  of  his  beauty,  can  generously  [ 
trample  upon  the  srnilings  of  the  world  with 
the  one  foot,  and  upon  her  frownings  with 
the  other.  If  he  be  rich  or  honorable,  or 
both,  yet,  he  glories  not  in  that,  but  Christ, 
who  is  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  is  even  then  his 
chiefest  glory  :  and  the  light  of  Christ  ob- 
scures that  worldly  splendor  in  his  estima- 
tion. And  as  the  enjoyment  of  Christ  over- 
tops all  his  other  joys,  so  it  overcomes  his 
griefs.  As  that  great  light  drowns  the  li<rht  , 
of  prosperity,  so  it  shines  bright  in  the  dark- 
ness of  affliction  :  no  dungeon  so  close  that  it  I 
can  keep  out.  the  rays  of  Christ's  love  from 
his  beloved  prisoners.  The  world  can  no  1 
more  take  away  this  light,  than  it  can  give 
it.  Unto  the  just  ariselh  light  in  darknes.i,  ! 
says  the  psalmist;  and.  When  I  sit  in  dark-\ 
ness,  the  Lord  shall  be  a  light  unto  me,  says  I 
the  church,  Mic.  vii.  8.  And  as  this  light  is 
a  Comfort,  so  it  is  likewise  a  defence,  which 
sufTers  no  more  of  distress  to  come  near  the 
godly,  than  is  profitable  for  them.  There- 1 
fore  we  fir.d  very  frerpiently  in  Scripture, ' 
where  this  light  and  glory  is  mentioned,  pro- 
tection and  safely  jointly  spoken  of:  The 
Lord  IS  miilisht,nnd  withal  mil  salvation: 
whom  shall  I  fear  ?  says  David,  Psalm  xxvii. 
1.     The  Lord  is  a  sun,  and  he  is  a  shield 


too.  Psalm  Ixxxiv.  11.  And  trulj-  E  think 
him  shot-proof  that  hath  the  sun  for  his 
buckler.  And  for  glory.  Upon  all  the  glory 
shall  be  a  defence,  says  our  prophet,  chap, 
iv.  5.  And  the  prophet  Zachariah,  where 
he  calls  the  Lord  the  church's  glory  in  the 
midst  of  her,  calls  him  likewise,  a  wall  of 
fire  round  about  her,  chap.  ii.  4.  The  only 
way,  then,  to  be  safe,  is  to  keep  this  light 
and  the  glory  entire.  To  part  with  any 
part  of  this  glory,  is  to  make  a  breach  in  that 
wall  of  fire  ;  and  if  that  be  a  means  of  safety, 
let  all  men  judge.  No,  keep  it  whole,  and 
then  they  must  come  through  the  fire,  who 
will  assault  you.  Nor  is  this  light  only  de- 
fensive of  the  church  that  eiiibracetn  it,  but 
it  is  likewise  destructive  of  all  adverse  pow- 
ers. See  a  clear  testimony  for  this  in  Jsa.  x. 
17.  18.  And  the  light  of  Israel  shall  be  for  a 
fire,  and  his  Holi/  One  for  a  flame,  and 
(speaking  there  of  the  Ass^-rians)  it  shall 
burn  and  devour  his  thorns  and.  his  briers  in 
one  day,  and  shall  consume  the  glory  of  his 
forest,  and  of  his  fruitful  field,  both  soul  and 
body,  and  they  shall  be  as  when  a  standard- 
bearer  fainteth.  Let  ever  then  the  church 
of  God  entirely  observe  this  li'^ht  and  glorxj 
of  the  Lord  ;  and  she  shall  undoubtedly  be 
preserved  by  it. 

But  to  close  in  a  word,  first,  to  those  who 
know  this  light,  and  then,  to  those  who  are 
yet  strangers  to  it. 

You  who  know  Christ,  glory  in  him  per« 
petually.  Well  may  he  be  your  glory,  when 
he  is  the  glory  of  the  Lord.  There  are  some 
who  pretend  love  to  Christ,  and  yet,  a  taunt- 
in£j  word  of  some  profane  miscreant  will  al- 
most make  them  ashained  of  him.  How  would 
they  die  for  Christ,  who  are  so  tender  as  not 
to  endure  a  scoff  for  him?  Where  is  that 
spirit  of  Moses,  who  accounted  the  very  re 
jiroaches  of  Christ  greater  riches  than  the 
treasures  of  Egijjit  ?  Heb.  xi.  26.  Oh,  learn 
to  glory  in  Christ ;  think  highly  of  him,  and 
speak  so  loo.  MethiTiks  it  is  the  discourse  in 
the  World  that  becomes  Christians  best,  to  be 
speaking  one  to  another  honorably  of  Jesus 
Christ.  And  of  all  tnen,  the  preachers  of  his 
gospel  should  be  most  frequent  in  this  sub- 
ject. This  should  be  their  great  theme,  to 
extol  and  commend  the  Lord  .lesus,  that  they 
may  inflame  many  hearts  with  his  love  :  and 
best  can  they  do  this,  who  are  most  strongly 
taken  with  this  love  themselves.  Such  will 
most  gladly  abase  themselves,  that  Christ 
may  be  magnified  ;  and  whatsoever  be  their 
excellencies,  they  will  still  account  Christ 
their  glory.  And  they  are  richly  repaid,  for 
he  accounts  them  his  glory.  This  would 
seem  a  strange  word,  if  it  were  not  the  apos- 
tle's :  They  are  the  messengers  of  the  church- 
es and  the  nlory  of  Christ.  2  Cor.  viii.  23. 
Delight  who  will,  either  in  sloth  or  iixnortmce 
on  the  one  hand,  or  in  vain  speculations  and 
strains  of  frothy  wit  on  the  other  ;  suiely, 
those  preachers  only  shall  be  ajiproved  in  the 
great  day,  who  have  consiantly  endeavored, 


4G4 


HOPE  AMID  BILLOWS. 


[Sf.r.  VI. 


in  tlieir  mea!*tire,  to  speak  the  best  and  fittest 
tlu'V  fdulcl  for  iheir  i\Ia#tpr's  advantage.  And 
happy  those  Christians,  of  wiiat  estate  soev- 
er, wlio  in  all  estates  make  Christ  their  glo- 
ry, and  in  all  actions  have  their  eye  fixed 
upon  his  glory,  who  is  their  light  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  ! 

Now  to  those  who  are  strangers  to  him 
(would  to  God  none  that  are  to  be  spoken  to, 
were  such  !)  to  ihem,  I  say, notice  is  given  both 
of  the  excellency  and  the  necessity  of  Christ. 
Though  it  were  possible  to  grope  the  way  to 
happiness  in  the  dark,  yet,  none  will  deny 
but  10  be  conducted  thither  by  a  constant 
light  is  both  more  safe  and  more  delightful. 
But  were  there  any  possibility  of  attaining 
that  end  wi  hout  this  light,  the  neglect  of  it 
werejiot  altogether  so  strange.  The  wonder 
of  all  is  this,  that  Christ  alone  being  both 
that  life,  and  the  wa  1/  to  it,  and  the  trvlh,  or 
light,  tiiat  guitk's  in  that  way  (John  xiv.  6), 
vet  Christians  (so  called)  should  esteem  and 
look  after  him  as  little  as  if  he  were  wholly 
needless!  What  meanest  thou,  0  besotted 
sinner  ?  Is  it  so  light  a  thing  to  die  in  thy 
sins,  and  to  die  eternally  for  them,  thai  thou 
wilt  not  so  much  as  open  and  admit  the  light 
of  salvation?  What  wilt  thou  pretend  in 
that  terrible  day?  Though  all  otliT'r  kinds 
of  people  should  offer  some  excuse,  thou  who 
hast  heard  the  gospel,  shalt  be  speechless. 
For  not  only  shall  the  rigor  of  justice  con- 
demn thee,  but  mercy  itself  shall  plead 
against  thee  :  lor  thou  hast  despised  it.  Tiiat 
light  did  come  and  was  not  embraced,  shall 
be  the  main  condemnation.  How  many  thou- 
sands who  make  no  doubt  of  heaven,  yet 
shall  then  fall  short  of  it !  It  is  not  a  super- 
ficial profession,  that  will  then  pass  current. 
It  is  not  some  public  sighs  and  groans  from 
an  unsanctified  heart,  which  either  come  from 
custom,  or  some  present  touch  of  the  word, 
nor  yet  is  it  some  sudden  risings  of  inward  af- 
fection toward  Christ,  upon  the  report  of  his 
worth,  that  shall  then  serve  the  turn.  The 
intellective  knowledge  of  Christ,  the  distinct 
understanding,  vea,  the  orthodox  preaching 
of  his  gospel,  the  tnaintaining  of  his  public 
cause,  and  suffering  for  it,  shall  not  then  be 
found  sufficient.  Only  that  peculiar  appre- 
hension of  Christ,  those  constant  flames  of 
spiritual  love,  that  even  course  of  holy  walk- 
ing in  his  light,  shall  be  those  characters 
whereby  Christ  shall  own  his  children,  and 
admit  them  into  the  inheritance  of  perfect 
light.  One  of  the  speakers  in  the  book  of 
Job,  discoursing  of  the  prosperity  of  the  un- 
godly, calls  it  but  his  candle,  and  tells  how 
long  it  can  last:  Inx  candle  (says  he)  shall  he 
-put  out  wilh  him.  And  that's  the  longest 
term  of  it:  if  it  last  his  lifetime,  it  shall  con- 
vey him  no  further  :  he  goes  into  eternity  in 
the  dark,  and  therefore,  as  St.  John  says,  he 
knows  not  whither  he  gcjeth.  Qw)  nvnc  oh' 
this  ?  said  that  emperor  (Adrian)  to  his  soul. 
Is  it  not  a  sad  thing  when  the  soul  that 
knows  no  other  than  worldly  light,  must  take 


1  leave  of  it,  and  enter  into  eternal  darkness, 
j  there  to  be  incessantly  tormented  wyh  pres- 
ent anguish,  and  the  frightful  ex[H'Clation  of 
the  last  judgment,  when  it  must  take  again 
that  body  which  was  the  accomjdice  of  its 
wickedness,  to  be  partaker  of  its  [lunishment  ; 
when  it  shall  have  a  double  misery,  to  behold 
crowns  of  immortality  distributed  to  :}.e  goo- 
ly,  after  the  short  coiribats  ol'this  life,  and  it- 
self thrust  out  among  the  devils?  Then  shall 
all  men  be  in  some  way  sensible,  what  is  the 
worth  of  this  now  contemned  light,  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  ;  the  greatest  number  too  late, 
for  they  shall  be  banished  from  it  for  ever. 
But  the  righteous  shall  then  most  perfectly 
know,  and  ibr  ever  enjoy,  this  light  and  glory 
of  the  Lord.  To  whom,  wilh  the  Father  of 
lights,  and  the  Spirit  of  grace,  be  eternity  in 
praise  and  honor. 


SERMON  VI. 

HOPE  AMID  BILLOWS. 

What  shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the 
whole  ivorld,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  said  our 
Savior,  who  was  to  lay  down  a  ransom  for  it, 
and  knew  well  that  it  would  cost  infinitely 
more  than  the  world  was  Avorth.  Yet,  ihe 
I  most  of  men  value  their  own  souls  at  a  far 
;  lower  rate  than  the  whole  world,  losing  them 
for  broken  morsels  of  it:  yea,  many  times  for 
vain  hopes  that  are  never  accomplished.  And 
as  these  men  make  a  miserable  bargain,  so 
on  the  contrary,  they  that  lo^e  the  world,  or 
anything  worldly,  yea,  though  it  were  the 
whole,  to  save  their  souls,  make  a  profitable 
loss  of  it.  Nature  teaches  men  to  hazard  and 
lose  all  for  the  lile  of  the  body  rather  than 
lose  it  (although  it  proves  many  times  very 
uncomfortable  by  the  loss  of  these  outward 
things),  and  yet,  the  most  part  of  men  pass 
I  their  whole  lifetime  without  one  serious 
thought  of  the  excellency  and  importance  of 
I  their  souls,  whose  life  and  happintss  is  of  a 
higher  nature,  and  neither  consists  in,  nor  de- 
pends upon,  anything  here  below.  Hence  it 
is,  that  while  they  use  the  helps  of  this  pres- 
ent life,  and  the  defences  of  it  when  it  is  in 
danger,  and  use  them  with  so  much  diligence 
and  attention,  the  means  of  that  better  life  of 
their  better  part,  their  souls  ihev  either  use 
not  at  all,  or  so  slightly  and  coldly  that  they 
never  find  salvation  in  them.  You  may  find 
it  some  way  in  yourselves:  the  ihreatenmgs 
and  preparations  of  men  against  you  have 
awakened  and  roused  you  more  to  think  upon 
means  of  your  temporal  safety  :  but  how  few 
are  sensible  and  afraid  of  the  wrath  of  God. 
who,  as  our  Savior  tells  us,  can  kill  both 
body  and  soul,  and  cast  them  into  hell  !  You 
'  want  not  frequent  advertisement  from  the 
word  of  God,  so  plentifully  preached,  that 
many  are  perishing,  one  [)art  in  gross  igno- 
rance of  God,  another  in  profane  and  licen- 
tious living,  and  the  greatest  part  in  a  formal 


Psalm  ilii.  8.] 


HOPE  AMID  BILLOWS. 


469 


and  lifeless  profession  of  leligion,  without  the 
power  of  it ;  and  yet,  where  are  they  who  lay 
it  to  heart,  and  bestir  themselves  to  rescue 
their  souls  from  destruction  ?  Certainly, 
whatsoever  men  profess,  it  is  unbelief  that  is 
the  cause  of  impenitence.  Men  are  not  con- 
vinced of  the  purity  of  God's  nature,  nor  sen- 
sible of  the  impurity  of  their  own  ;  therefore 
they  apply  not  themselves  in  good  earnest  to 
the  work  of  repentance,  and  to  reformation, 
the  liveliest  part  of  it.  Labor,  then,  for  a  more 
active  and  practical  knowledge  of  God  and 
Divine  truths,  such  as  may  humble  and  re- 
lew  your  souls  ;  not  only  that  you  may  be 
lelivered  from  outward  troubles  that  threaten 
fou,  but  much  more,  that  you  may  escape 
-he  wrath  to  come.  And  because  neither 
the  word  preached,  nor  judgments,  nor  mer- 
cies, that  are  set  before  fou,  are  sulficient  to 
quicken  a  dead  soul,  or  sofien  a  hard  heart, 
without  the  effectual  concurrence  of  tlie  Spir- 
it of  God,  let  us  have  recourse  to  the  throne 
of  grace,  by  humhie  and  earnest  prayer,  in 
the  name  and  mediation  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Psalm  xlii.  8. 

Vet  the  Lord  will  command  his  loving-kindness  in  the 
daytime,  and  in  the  nigtit  his  song  shall  be  with 
me,  and  my  prayer  unto  the  God  of  my  lite. 

Man  is  bnrn  to  trouble,  as  the  sparks  jly 
upward,  saith  Eliphaz,  Job  v.  7.  And  as  it 
is  the  corruixion  and  sinfulness  of  his  birth 
and  nature,  that  has  exposed  him  to  trout)le, 
so  nature  usually  sets  hirn  at  work,  to  look 
out  for  such  things  as  may  preserve  and  de- 
liver him  from  trouble,  or,  at  least,  mitigate 
and  temper  the  bitterness  of  it.  And  because 
there  is  not  any  one  worldly  tiling  that  hath 
either  certainty  or  sulliciency  enough  to 
serve  at  all  times,  therefore  worldly  and  nat- 
ural men  are  fTjrced  to  make  use  of  variety, 
and  are  hut  badly  served  with  thetn  all.  Tile 
believing  soul  hath  but  one  comfort  whereon 
he  relies,  but  it  is  a  great  one,  which  alone 
weighs  down  all  the  rest.  Bread  sirejigihens, 
and  irine  makes  glad  the  heart  of  man.  Psalm 
civ.  15.  But  God  IS  the  slrength  of  my  heart, 
says  the  psalmist,  Psalm  Ixxiii.  2G,  and  the 
gladness  of  it  too  :  Thou  has/  put  gladness  in 
mij  heart,  more  than  ilici/  have  when  their 
corn  and  wine  increaseth.  Psalm  vi.  7.  And 
therefore,  while  the  rest  are  seeking  after 
some  scattered  crumbs  of  goodness  in  the 
creatures,  and  saying.  Who  will  show  us  any 
good  ?  he  fixes  his  choice  upon  this  one 
thing,  the  light  of  God's  countenance.  And 
it  is  the  constant  assurance  of  this  that  up- 
holds him.  Waves  beat  upon  him,  yea,  and 
go  over  him ;  yet,  the  Lord  will  command 
his  loving  kindness  to  shine  upon  him. 

In  this  psa.m  we  may  perceive  the  psalm- 
ist full  of  per|)lcxed  thoughts,  and  that  be- 
tween strong  desires  and  griefs,  and  yet,  in 
the  midst  of  them,  now  and  then,  some  ad- 
vantage,and  intermixing  strains  of  hop«  with 
his  sad  complaints  :  for  immediately  before, 
we  heard  nothing  but  the  impetuous  noise  of  i 
59 


many  waters,  deep  calling  unto  deep,  in  the 
former  verse;  we  have  here,  as  it  were,  a 
touch  of  the  sweet  sound  of  David's  harp  : 
Yet  the  Lord  icill  command  his  loving  kind- 
ness in  the  daytime,  and  in  the  night  his  song 
shall  he  with  me. 

In  the  words  we  have  David's  confidence 
and  David's  purpose  :  the  one  suiting  very 
I  well  with  the  other.  His  confidence  in  God's 
loving  kindness  :  Yet  iht  Lord  will  command 
his  loving  kindness.  And  his  ;)ur;)o.sp  •  A\d 
in  the  night  his  song  shall  he  unth  mt 

It  is  true,  the  latter  words.  In  the  mght  his 
song  shall  he  with  me,  may  be  taken  as  a 
part  of  the  expression  of  his  confidence,  ta- 
king the  song  for  the  matter  or  subject  of  the 
song,  the  goodness  of  God:  as  if  he  should 
say.  Both  in  the  day  and  in  the  night,  I  shall 
find  the  sweet  fruits  of  God's  favor  and  loving 
kindness.  But  not  excluding  that,  I  rather 
take  it  to  be  intended  as  his  resolution,  that  it 
should  be  his  custom  in.  the  quiet  season  ol 
the  nisht,  to  look  back  upon  God's  goodness 
manifested  to  him  in  the  actions  and  occur- 
rences of  the  day  ;  and  tlius  entertaining  his 
soul  with  that  secret  discourse,  he  would  stir 
it  up  to  the  praises  of  his  God,  and  withal 
would  join  prayer  for  the  continuance  and 
further  manifestation  cf  it.  David  (as  was 
hinted  before)  intermixes  strains  of  hope,  not 
that  faint  and  common  hope  of  possibility  or 
probability,  that  aftei  stormy  days  it  may  be 
better  with  him,  but  a  certain  hope  that  shall 
never  ma.\ie  ashamed  ;  such  a  hope  as  springs 
from  faith,  yea,  in  effect,  is  one  with  it. 
Faith  rests  upon  the  goodness  and  truth  of 
Him  who  hath  promised,  and  hope,  raising  it- 
self U|)on  faith  so  established,  stands  u[)  and 
looks  out  to  the  future  accomplishment  of  tht» 
promise.  Therefore  the  apostle  calls  Faith, 
the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  >'T0(7ra.T't 
and  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen.  Heb.  xi. 
1.  Of  all  other  hope  it  is  true,  Spes  est  no 
men  bom  incerti:  It  is  the  name  of  uncertain 
good.  But  this  can  say,  The  Lord  will  com- 
mand his  loving  kindness. 

The  Lord  will  Command.  What  a  sudden 
change  is  here  !  Would  you  think  this  were 
the  same  man  that  was  even  now  almost 
overwhelmed  ?  Thus  faith  always  conquers, 
though  seldom,  or  never,  without  a  hard  con- 
flict ;  not  only  assaulted  by  troubles  without, 
but,  which  is  worse,  by  incredulity  within  ; 
nor  assaulted  only,  but  many  times  brought 
under  ;  yet  does  it  not  succumb  and  give 
over,  knowing  that  even  after  many  foils,  yet, 
in  the  end,  it  shall  overcome. 

His  confidence  you  may  consider,  fint,  op 
positely,  and  then  positively,  or  simply  in  it- 
self Oppositely  both  to  his  present  trc  uble, 
and  to  his  complaints,  wherein  tiiis  trouble  is 
expressed  :  and  that  is  fitly  implied,  though  it 
be  not  in  the  original. 

Though  the  multitude  and  weight  of  Job's 
afflictions  did  force  out  of  him  some  bitter 
words,  and  made  him  look  back  upon  the 
d  iy  of  his  birth,  and  curse  it ;  yet  faith  re- 


(60 


HOPE  AMID  BILLOWS. 


[Ser.  VI 


covers  him  from  his  distemper,  and  makes 
him  look  forward  with  joy,  even  as  Car  as  to 
the  blessed  day  of  his  resurrection  :  /  knoii^ 
that  ini/  Redeemer  hveth,  and  that  he  shall 
stand  at  the  /alter  day  vpon  the  earth:  a/id 
thnuffh  after  an/  skin,  ironnx  destroy  this  hodi/, 
vet,  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  God.  Job  xix.  25. 
The  former  words  ol'  impatience  he  spake  in- 
deed, but  he  adheres  to  these,  and  wishes  that 
they  were  xvritten  tvilh  an  iron  pen,  and  en- 
graven to  abide  for  ever.  Therefore  we  hear 
of  him  affain  in  scripture,  as  a  ri  <rhteoiis  and 
patient  man,  but  of  these  words  of  his  impa- 
tience not  a  word.  In  the  ixxviith  Psalm, 
what  sad  expostulations  are  those  the  psalm- 
ist uses,  Will  he  be  favorable  no  more  ?  Is 
his  mercy  clean  gone  for  ever  ?  Doth  his 
promise  fail  for  evermore  ?  Hath  God  fur- 
gotten  to  be  trracious  ?  Hath  he  in  anger 
shut  up  his  tender  mircies  ?  But  see  how  he 
corrects  them,  ver.  10:  Then  I  said,  this  is 
my  infirmity,  hut  I  trill  remember  the  years  of 
the  ricrht  hand  of  the  Most  High.  Thus  Jo- 
nah (cli.  ii.  3,  4)  speaks  in  a  strain  much  like 
this  ;  but  there  it  was  literally  true,  that  God 
had  cast  him  into  the  deep.  And  here,  deep 
calls  unto  deep,  yet,  in  the  midst  of  those 
deeps,  faith  is  not  drowned  :  you  see  it  lifts 
up  its  head  above  water :  Yet,  the  Lord  will 
command,  &c.  Yea,  thouEfh  it  takes  particu- 
larnotice  of  God's  hand  in  the  affliction,  yet 
it  s:oes  not  to  another  hand  lor  comfort :  it  is 
Thy  waves  and  Thy  billows,  yet  that  same 
God  whose  waves  are  like  to  destroy  me,  will 
ere  long  command  his  loving  kindness  to 
shine  upon  me.  So  Job  xiii.  15.  Though  he 
ilay  me,  yet  will  J  trust  in  him.  A  wonder- 
f'll  expression  of  faith  !  He  says  not,  though 
afflict  me  sore,  but,  Though  he  slay  me  ; 
not,  Though  evil  men  or  Satan  should  do  it, 
but.  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in 
him.  What  troubled  mind  can  imagine  any 
thing  harder  again«t  itself  ilian  this? 

1.  Learn,  then  o  check  those  excessive 
doubts  and  fears,  by  some  such  resolute  word 
as  ibis.  Turn  the  promise,  first  upon  thyself, 
and  then  upon  God.  Consider  that  he  hath 
promised  lii'e  eternal  to  believers,  and  then 
say,  "  Though  I  saw  his  hand  as  it  were  lift- 
ed up  to  destroy  me,  yet  from  that  very  hand 
will  1  expect  salvation  ;  for  I  have  his  word 
engaged  for  it,  that  if  I  believe,  I  shall  be 
saved."  I  do  not  say,  that  a  soul  under  temp- 
tation can  assure  itself  that  God  is  already 
reconciled  to  it :  and  herein  possibly  lies  of- 
tentimes the  mistake;  for  this  reflex  act  of 
assurance,  though  it  be  our  duty  to  seek  af- 
ter it,  is  itself  rather  a  gift  and  reward  than 
a  duty.  But  ihe  direct  and  proper  act  of 
faith  is  of  perpetual  use  and  necessity,  and 
then  most  when  there  is  least  sense  of  as- 
surance. And  it  is  no  other  than  a  recum- 
dencv  or  reliance,  a  rolling  over  of  the  soul  j 
upon  free  mercy.  That  which  breeds  us  | 
much  perplexity,  is,  that  we  would  invert 
God's  order.  If  I  knew,  say  some,  that  the 
promise  belonged  to  me,  and  that  Christ  were  j 


a  Savior  to  me,  I  could  believe.  That  is  to 
say,  I  would  first  see,  and  then  believe.  But 
the  true  method  is  just  contrary.  1  had  faint- 
ed, says  David,  unless  1  had  believed  to  see 
the  goodness  of  the  Lord.  He  believed  it 
first,  and  saw  it  afterward.  And  in  this 
same  ])salin,  laboring  to  still  his  disquieted 
sinil  by  elevating  it  above  his  troubles  to 
look  uj)on  his  God,  he  says  to  it,  Hope  in  hun 
now,  smd,  ere  it  be  long,  thou  shall  praise  him 
for  the  help  of  his  countenance,  even  while 
His  countenance  is  withheld.  And  thus  faith 
ouffht  to  triumph  over  spiritual  fears  and  du- 
ficulties. 

2.  How  incongruous  is  it,  that  outward 
dangers  or  trials  should  overmatch  it !  Will 
you  trust  God  upon  his  word,  for  salvation 
and  eternal  happiness,  and  be  diffident  for  the 
safety  and  needful  blessings  of  this  temporal 
life,  which  life,  in  comparison,  is  but  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  the  best  things  of  it  but  dross  ?  Con- 
sider that  you  dishonor  faith  exceedingly,  and 
degenerate  from  the  believing  saints  of  former 
ages.  Indeed,  the  promises  of  this  life,  and 
that  which  concerns  it,  though  godliness  hath 
them,  yet,  they  are  not  so  absolute,  nor  are 
they  so  absolutely  needful  for  you.  But  con- 
sidering the  wisdom  and  love  of  your  heav- 
enly Father,  learn  to  compose  your  minds 
by  it. 

I  will  not  he  afraid,  though  ten  thousands 
of  the  people  set  themselves  against  me  round 
about,  says  David.  Psalm  iii.  6.  And  lest  you 
think  him  singular,  in  the  46th  Psalm,  it  is 
the  joint  voice  of  the  whole  church  of  God: 
We  will  not  fear,  though  the  earth  he  remov- 
ed, and  the  mountains  he  cast  into  the  midst 
of  the  sea  :  though  the  waters  thereof  roar 
and  be  troubled  ;  though  ihe  mountains  shake 
with  the  swelling  thereof.  There  is  a  river, 
the  streams  whereof  make  glad  the  city  oj 
God  :  the  holy  place  of  the  tabernacle  of  the 
most  high  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her  ;  she 
shall  not  be  moved.  That  is  the  way  to  be  im- 
moveable in  the  midst  of  troubles,  as  a  rock 
amidst  the  waves.  When  God  is  in  the 
midst  of  a  kingdom  or  city,  he  makes  it  firm 
as  Mount  Sion,  that  can  not  be  removed. 
When  he  is  in  the  midst  of  a  soul,  though 
calamities  throng  about  it  on  all  hands,  and 
roar  like  the  billows  of  the  sea,  yet,  there  is 
a  constant  calm  within,  such  a  peace  as  the 
world  can  neither  give  nor  lake  away.  On 
the  other  side,  what  is  it  but  want  of  lodg- 
ing God  in  the  soul,  and  that  in  his  stead  the 
world  is  in  the  midst  of  men's  hearts,  that 
makes  them  shake  like  the  leaves  of  trees  at 
every  blast  of  danger  ?  What  a  shame  is  it, 
seeing  natural  men,  by  the  strength  of  na- 
ture, and  by  help  of  moral  precepts,  have 
attained  such  undaunted  resolution  and  cour- 
age against  outward  changes,  that  yet  they 
who  would  pass  for  Christians,  are  so  soft 
and  fainting,  and  so  sensible  of  the  smallest 
alterations  !  The  advantage  that  we  have  in 
this  regard  is  infinite.  What  is  the  best 
ground-work  of  a  philosopher's  constancy 


Psalm  xlii.  8.] 


HOPE  AMID  BILLOWS. 


467 


but  as  moving  sands  in  comparison  of"  the 
Rock  that  we  may  build  upon  ?  But  the 
truth  is,  that  either  we  make  no  provision  of 
faith  for  times  of  trial,  or,  if  any  we  have,  we 
neither  know  the  worth  nor  the  use  of  it,  but 
lay  it  by,  as  a  dead  unprofitable  thing,  when 
we  should  most  use  and  exercise  it.  Not- 
withstanding all  our  frequenting  of  God's 
house,  and  our  plausible  profession,  is  it  not 
too  true,  that  the  most  of  us  either  do  not  at 
all  furnish  ourselves  with  those  spiritual 
arms  that  are  so  needful  in  the  militant  life 
of  a  Christian,  or  we  learn  not  how  to  han- 
dle them,  and  are  not  in  readiness  for  service  ? 
As  was  the  case  of  thai  improvident  soldier, 
whom  his  coramnnder  found  mending  some 
piece  of  his  armor,  when  they  were  to  give 
battle.  It  were  not  amiss,  before  afflictions 
overtake  us.  to  try  and  train  the  mind  some- 
what by  supposing  the  very  worst  and  hard- 
est of  them  ;  to  say,  What  if  the  waves  and 
billows  of  adversity  were  swelled  and  flow- 
ing in  upon  me  ;  could  I  then  believe  ?  God 
hath  sdiii],  I  ivi/l  nnt  fail  thee  nor  forsake  thee, 
with  a  heap  of  negations  :  In  no  wise,  I  will 
not.  He  hath  said,  When  thou  passest  through 
the  fire  and  throus^h  the  water,  1  iriH  be  with 
thee.  These  I  know,  and  can  discourse  of 
them  ;  but  could  I  repose  and  rest  upon,  them 
in  the  day  of  trial  ?  Put  your  souls  to  it.  Is 
there  any  thing  or  person  that  you  esteem 
and  love  exceedingly  ?  Say,  What  iflshou/d 
lose  this  ?  Is  there  some  evil  that  is  natural- 
I  -  moi*  contrary  and  terrible  to  you  than 
Ma-:v  others  ?  Spare  not  to  present  that  to 
the  i-nairi nation  too,  and  labor  to  make  faith 
master  of  it  beforehand  in  case  it  should,  he- 
Idll  you  :  and  if  the  first  thousrht  of  it  scare 
you,  look  npoM  it  the  oftencr,  till  the  visage 
of  it  become  fimiliar  to  you,  that  you  start 
and  scare  no  more  at  it.  Nor  is  there  any 
danger  in  these  thoughts.  Troubles  can  not 
be  brought  the  nearer  by  our  thus  thinking 
on  them  :  but  you  may  be  both  safer  and 
stronger  by  breathins'  and  exercisins  of  your 
faith  in  supposed  cases.  But  if  yon  be  so'ten- 
der-spirited,  that  you  can  not  look  upon  ca- 
lamities so  much  as  in  thought  or  fancv,  how 
would  you  be  able  for  a  real  encounter  ?  No, 
surely.  But  the  soul  that  hath  made  God 
his  stay,  can  do  both.  See  it  in  that  notable 
resoluiion  of  the  prophet,  Hab.  iii.  17  :  Af- 
thout;h  the  fi^-tree  shall  not  hlosxnm,  neither 
shall  fruit  he  in  the  vines,  the  labor  of  the 
olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields  shall  yield  no 
meat,  the  flock  shall  be  cut  off  from  the  fold, 
and  there  shall  he  no  herd  in  the  stalls  :  yet  J 
will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  w;ll  joy  in  the  God 
of  my  salvation.  The  Lord  God  is  my 
ttrensrlh.  And  in  that  of  David,  Psnlm  xxiii. 
4:  Yea,  says  he,  thou'jh  J  walk  lhron<rh  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  T  will  fear  no 
evil,  for  thou  art  with  me  ;  Thy  rod  and  thy 
il.aff,  they  comftrrt  we.  You  see  how  faith  is 
a  cork  to  his  soul,  keeping  it  from  sinking  in 
the  deeps  of  afflictions.  Yea,  that  big  word 
which  one  sa^s   of  his  morally  just  man, 


I  is  true  of  the  believer  :  Sifractns  illahatui 
orhis —  Thous;h  the  very  fabric  of  the  world 
were  falling  about  him,  yet  would  he  stand 
upright  and  undaunted  in  the  midst  of  its 
ruins. 

In  this  confidence,  considered  in  itself,  we 
may  observe,  1.  The  object  of  it  ;  The  loving 
kindness  of  the  Lord.  2.  The  manner  or 
way  by  which  he  expects  to  enjoy  it.  The 
Lord  will  command  it.  3.  The  time  :  In  the 
day.  ■ 

1.  The  object :  His  loving  kindness.  He 
says  not.  The  Lord  ivill  command  my  re- 
turn to  the  house  of  God,  ox,  will  accomplish 
my  deliverance  from  the  heavy  oppression  and 
sharp  reproaches  of  the  enemy,  which  would 
have  answered  more  particularly  and  ex- 
pressly to  his  present  griefs,  but,  will  com- 
mand his  loving  kindness.  And  the  reason 
of  his  thus  expressing  himself,  I  conceive  to 
be  twofold.  [1.]  In  the  assurance  of  this,  is 
necessarily  comprised  the  certainty  of  all 
other  good  things.  This  special  favor  and 
benignity  of  the  Lord  doth  engage  his  pow- 
er and  wisdom  (both  which  you  know  are  iri- 
finite)  to  the  procurement  of  everything  truly 
ETood  for  those  whom  he  so  favors.  There- 
fore it  is,  that  David  chooses  rather  to  name 
the  streams  of  particular  mercies  in  this  their 
living  Source  and  Fountain,  than  to  specify 
them  severally.  Nor  is  it  only  thus  more 
compendious,  but  the  expression  is  fuller 
too,  which  are  the  two  great  advantages  of 
speech.  And  this  I  take  to  be  the  other  rea- 
son :  [2.]  A  man  may  enjoy  great  deliveran- 
ces, and  many  positive  benefits  from  the  hand 
of  God,  and  yet  have  no  share  in  his  loving 
kindness.  How  frequently  doth  God  heap 
riches,  and  honor,  and  healtii,  on  those  he 
hates,  and  the  common  gifts  of  the  mind  too, 
wisdom  and  learning,  yea,  the  common  gifts 
of  his  own  Spirit,  and  give  a  fair  and  long 
day  of  external  prosperity  to  those  on  whom 
he  never  vouchsafed  the  least  glance  of  his 
favorable  countenance!  Yea,  on  the  contra- 
ry, he  gives  all  those  specious  gifts  to  them 
with  a  secret  curse  !  As  he  gave  a  king  in 
wrath  to  his  people,  so  he  often  gives  king 
doms  in  his  wrath  to  kings.  Therefore  Da 
vid  looks  higher  than  the  very  kingdom 
which  God  promised  him  and  ijave  him, 
when  he  speaks  of  bis  loving  kindness.  In 
a  word,  he  resolves  to  solace  himself  with 
the  assurance  of  this,  though  he  was  strip- 
ped of  all  other  comforts,  and  to  quiet  his 
soul  herein,  till  deliverance  should  come; 
and  when  it  should  come,  and  whatsoever 
mercies  with  it,  to  receive  them  as  fruits  and 
effects  of  this  loving'  kindness:  not  prizing 
them  so  much  for  themselves,  as  for  the  im- 
pressions of  that  love  which  is  upon  them. 
An;'  it  is  that  image  and  superscription  that 
both  engages  and  moves  him  most  to  pay  his 
tribute  of  praise.  And  truly,  this  is  every- 
where David's  temper:  his  frequent  distres- 
ses and  wants  never  excite  him  so  much  to 
desire  any  particular  comfort  in  the  creature, 


468 


HOPE  AMID  BILLOWS. 


[Ser.  V\. 


as  to  entreat  the  presence  and  favor  of  God 
himself.  His  saddesl  limes  are  wlien,  to  his 
sense,  thjp  favor  is  eclipsed.  Jn  my  pro.'^peri- 
ty  I  said,  I  shall  not  be  moved.  And  what 
was  his  adversity  that  made  iiim  ol"  another 
aiind  ?  Thou  didsl  hide  Ihy  J'<ice.  and  I  was 
frvubhd.  Tliis  verifies  his  position  in  that 
?ame  Psalm.  In  thij  fwvnr  is.  lij'e.  Thus,  in 
the  63d  Psalm,  al  tiie  beginning,  My  soul 
tlursteth  for  thee,  in  a  dry  land  where  there 
ts  no  water  :  not  for  water,  where  .there  is 
none,  but,  yo;-  ihee  u'here  there  is  no  water. 
Therefore  he  adds,  in  verse  3,  Thy  loving 
kindness  is  better  than  life.  And  all  that  be 
truly  wise,  are  of  this  mind,  and  will  sub- 
scribe lo  his  choice.  Let  them  enjoy  this 
ovinsr  kindness  and  prize  it,  iiecause,  what- 
ever befalls  them,  their  happiness  and  joy  is 
above  the  reach  of  all  calamities.  Let  them 
be  derided  and  reproached  abroad,  yet  still, 
this  inward  persuasion  makes  them  glad  and 
contented.  As  a  rich  man  said,  though  the 
people  hated  and  taunted  him,  yet,  when  he 
cauie  home  and  looked  upon  his  chests,  Ei;o- 
met  mihi  plaudo  doini ;  with  liow  mucli  bet- 
ter reason  do  believers  bear  out  external  in- 
juries! What  inward  contentment  is  theirs, 
when  they  consider  themselves  as  truly  en- 
riched with  ihe  favor  of  God  !  And  as  this 
makes  them  contemn  the  coniempts  that  the 
world  puts  upon  them,  so,  likewise,  it  breeds 
in  them  a  neglect  and  disdain  of  those  poor 
trifles  that  the  world  admires.  The  sum  of 
their  desires  is  (as  that  of  the  cynic's  was, 
the  sunshine),  that  the  rays  of  the  love  of 
God  may  shine  constantly  up(jn  them.  The 
favorable  aspect  and  large  jjroffers  of  kings 
and  princes,  would  be  unwelcome  to  them, 
if  they  should  stand  between  them  and  the 
sight  of  that  Sun.  And  truly  they  have  rea- 
son. What  3r«  the  highest  things  the  world 
affords  ?  Whai  ire  great  honors  and  great 
estates,  but  great  cares  and  griefs  well  dress- 
ed and  colored  over  with  a  show  of  pleasure, 
.hat  promise  contentment,  and  perform  noih- 
ng  but  vexation?  That  they  are  not  satis- 
fying, is  evident ;  for  the  obtaining  of  much 
of  them  doth  but  siretch  the  appetite,  and 
t>:>.ch  men  to  desire  more.  They  are  not 
solid,  neither.  Will  not  the  pains  of  a  gout, 
of  a  strangury,  or  some  such  malady  (to  say 
nothing  of  the  worst,  the  pains  of  a  guilty 
conscience),  blast  all  these  delights  ?  What 
relish  finds  a  man  in  large  revenues  and 
stately  buildings,  in  high  preferments  and 
honorable  titles,  when  either  his  body  or  his 
mind  is  in  anguish  !  And  besides  the  emp- 
tiness of  all  these  ihinss,  you  know  they 
want  one  main  point,  continuance.  But  the  | 
loving  kindness  of  God  hath  all  requisites  to  | 
make  the  soul  happy.  O,  satisfy  us  early  j 
vnth  thy  goodness  (or  mercy),  says  Mrjes, 
that  we  may  rejoice  and  he  glad  all  our  days. 
Psalm  xc.  14.  There  is  fulness  in  that  for 
the  vastest  desires  of  the  soul — satisfy  us  • 
there  is  solid  contentment — that  begets  true 
joy  and  gladness  ;  and  there  is  permanency 


— all  our  dai/s.  It  is  the  only  comlort  of 
this  life,  and  the  assurance  of  a  better.  Inis 
were  a  large  subject  to  insist  on,  but  oeriain- 
ly  the  naming  of  his  loving  kindness  should 
beget  in  each  heart  a  high  esteem  of  it,  an 
ardent  desire  after  it.  And  if  it  do  so  with 
you,  then  know,  that  it  is  only  to  be  found  in 
the  way  of  holiness.  He  is  a  holy  God,  and 
can  love  nothing  that  is  altogether  unlike 
himself.  There  must  always  be  some  simil- 
itude and  conformity  of  n'ature  to  ground 
kindness  and  friendship  upon,  and  to  main- 
tain it.  That  saying  is  true.  Idem  ville  et_ 
idem  nolle,  firma  amicilia.  What  gross  self- 
flattery  is  it,  to  think  that  God's  loving  kind- 
ness can  be  toward  you,  while  you  are  in  love 
with  sill,  which  he  so  perfectly  hales!  How 
can  the  profane  swearer,  or  voluptuous  per- 
son, or  the  oppressor  and  covetous,  or  the 
close  hypocrite  (worse  than  any  of  them), 
rest  upon  the  loving  kindness  of  the  Lord  in 
the  day  of  troubles  ?  No,  surely.  But  the 
terror  of  his  wrath  shall  be  added  to  all  their 
other  calamities  ;  and  they  shall  find  it  heav- 
ier (ban  all  the  rest.  God  will  not  pour  this 
precious  oil  of  gladness,  this  persuasion  of 
his  love,  into  filthy  vessels.  Even  his  own 
children,  when  ihey  grieve  and  sadden  his 
holy  Spirit  by  unholiness,  shall  be  sadly  pun- 
ished by  the  withdrawing  of  those  comfort- 
ing and  sensible  expressions  of  his  love. 

Labor,  then,  you  who  as  yet  never  tasted 
of  this  love,  to  know  what  it  means.  For- 
sake and  hate  that  which  hitherto  ha'S  made 
you  strangers  to  it  ;  for  if  you  obtain  this,  it 
shall  comfort  you  when  those  things  can  not, 
bui  would  rather  ])rove  your  greatest  torment. 
And  you  who  have  received  any  testimonies 
of  it,  entertain  it  carefully,  for  it  is  your  best 
comfort  both  in  your  best  days  and  in  your 
worst  days  too. 

You  would  all  gladly  be  delivered  from  the 
many  evils  that  threaten  you  ;  for  many  they 
be  indeed,  and  peace  is  a  great  blessing.  But 
suppose  you  were  secured  from  all  those 
fears,  and  he  should  command  a  sudden  calm 
(which  truly  he  can  do),  would  you  then 
think  yourselves  happy  ?  That  life  of  yours 
[  which  you  so  fear  to  lose  by  fire  or  sword, 
though  you  had  peace,  would  ere  long  fal'. 
into  the  hands  of  some  ague,  or  fever,  or  con- 
sumption, and  perish  by  them  ;  or  at  the  long- 
I  est,  a  few  years  will  end  it :  it  is  a  lighted 
candle,  which,  though  nobody  blow  out,  will 
quickly  burn  out  of  iiself.  IBut  this  loving 
kindness  is  not  so  short  lived  :  it  shall  last  as 
long  as  your  souls,  and  so  long  as  it  lasts, 
they  shall  be  happy.  Those  goods  that  you 
fear  shall  be  pillaged  and  spoiled  in  war,  how 
many  hazards  are  ;hey  subject  to  even  in 
peace  !  Solomon  tells  you,  that  riches  often- 
times, though  nobody  should  take  them  away, 
make  themselves  wings,  and  fly  away.  And 
truly,  many  times  the  undue  sparing  of  them, 
is  but  the  letting  of  their  wings  grow,  which 
makes  them  readier  to  fly  away  :  and  the  con- 
tributing a  part  of  them  to  do  g-«od,  only  clips 


*  iALM  xlii.  8.] 


HOPE  AMID  BILLOWS. 


469 


liieir  winirs  a  li  tie,  and  makes  them  stay  the 
longer  wiih  their  owner.  But  this  by  the 
way.  Howsoever,  in  the  day  of  death,  and 
in  the  day  of  wrath,  as  Solomon  says,  thci/ 
profit  nothing  at  all.  Prov.  xi.  4.  So,  then, 
though  you  may  desire  that  God  would  com- 
mand deliverance  for  you,  yet,  if  you  would 
be  truly  happy,  your  greater  and  more  ear- 
nest suit  should  be,  that  he  would  command 
his  loving  kindness  to  appear  to  your  souls. 
And  having  once  obtained  this,  you  may  pos- 
sibly he  persecuted,  and  endure  hard  trials, 
but  one  thing  is  made  sure,  you  can  not  be 
miserable.  Nor  shall  you  want  temporal  mer- 
cies and  preservation  too,  so  far  as  they  are 
good  for  you.  The  inward  assurance  of  this 
love  shall  carry  you  strangely  and  sweetly 
through  all  outward  vicissitudes;  and  when 
the  day  shall  come,  that  all  other  comforts 
shall  look  pale  upon  you,  then  shall  you  find 
the  worth  and  happiness  of  this  more  than 
ever  before.  Observe, 

2.  The  manner  in  which  the  psalmist  ex- 
pects to  enjoy  the  object  of  his  confidence. 
The  Lord  null  command,  make  it  appear  to 
me.  Sometimes  God  is  said  to  shut  up  and 
hide  his  love  from  his  children,  and  tliat  is  a 
mournful  time  with  them.  But  we  read  not 
that  he  shuts  out  his  love,  and  ceaseth  alto- 
gether to  have  affection  to  those  whom  once 
he  loved.  And  therefore,  when  he  shows 
himself  again,  in  the  graciou^j  manifesiations 
of  his  mercy,  he  is  not  said  to  begin  anew  to 
love  them,  but  only  to  command  his  love, 
which  erewhile  he  had  countermanded  to  ap- 
pear. 

3.  The  time  :  In  the  day.  If  you  have  a 
mind  to  take  the  day  and  night,  figuratively, 
for  prosperous  and  adverse  times,  it  would 
lead  you,  in  that  sense,  to  observe  David's 
constancy  in  God's  praises  :  which  was  such 
that  not  only  in  the  day  of  deliverance,  but 
even  in  the  night  of  distress,  he  resolved  a 
sons;  'or  God.  And  truly,  many  times  God 
gives  his  children  in  an  afHicted  condition, 
more  sweetness  of  spirit,  more  aptitude,  not 
only  to  pray,  but  to  praise,  and  more  s|)iriiual 
delight  in  himself,  than  in  times  of  outward 
peace  and  prosperity.  He  u;ivp,th  songs  in 
the  nishl,  said  J(jb  :  and  you  know  the  sound 
of  music  is  most  delightful  in  the  night.  But 
to  take  it  properly,  David  is  confident  that  in 
the  several  actions  and  occurrences  of  the  day 
he  should  find  the  goodness  and  favorable  as- 
sistance of  the  Lord  ;  and  then  he  resolves 
(which  leads  to  the  other  part  of  the  text)  in 
the  night  time  to  meditate  on  that  goodness, 
and  to  frame  a  scng  of  praise  to  the  Author 
of  it. 

And  indeed,  what  is  the  whole  thread  of 
our  life,  but  a  checkered  twist,  black  and 
white,  of  delights  and  dangers  interwoven  ? 
and  the  hap[)iest  passing  of  it,  is  constantly 
to  enjoy  and  to  observe  the  experiences  of 
God's  goodness,  and  to  praise  liirii  fur  ihern. 
David  was  a  wise  king,  and  wilhal  a  valiant 
B'jldier,  and  yet  we  see  he  thought  not  this 


experience  inconsonant  with  either  of  these 
two  conditions.  This  precious  book  of  Psalms 
(a  great  plart  thereof  being  his)  testifies  clear- 
ly that  prayer  and  praises  were  his  great  em- 
ployment.  A  religious  disposition  of  mind 
may  not  only  consist  with  fortitude  and  mag- 
nanimity, but  is  indeed  the  best  principle  and 
cause  of  both,  contrary  to  the  wicked  and 
foolish  opinion  of  profane  persons.  Whether 
of  the  two,  do  you  think,  might  welcome  a 
day  of  battle  with  most  courage  and  resolu- 
tion, he  that  had  passed  the  preceding  night 
in  revelling  and  carousing,  or  he  that  had 
spent  it  in  prayer,  and  obtained  some  assu- 
rance of  a  better  life?  Truly,  if  they  went 
on  with  equal  forwardness,  there  is  no  man, 
except  he  were  an  atheist,  but  would  judge 
the  one  to  be  brutish  fury  and  precipitation, 
and  the  other  true  valor. 

His  sonn-.  In  the  worst  esiate  there  is  ever 
some  matter  of  praise  to  be  mixed  with  re- 
quest ;  and  truly,  we  may  justly  suspect  that 
our  neglect  of  praises  makes  our  prayers  un- 
acceptable. 

And  my  prayer.  In  the  best  estate  here 
below,  praise  must  be  accompanied  with 
prayer.  Our  wants,  and  necessities,  and 
straits,  return  daily  upon  us,  and  require  new 
supplies  of  mercy  ;  and  prayer,  if  we  know 
how  to  use  it  right,  is  the  way  to  obtain  them 
all. 

I'o  the  God  of  my  life,  or,  the  God  that  is 
my  life.  This  word  is  added,  as  the  reason 
of  all  that  went  before.    If  you  ask  David 

j  wliy  he  reposeth  so  much  upon  the  loving 
kindness  of  God,  what  he  means,  to  spend  so 
much  jiains  in  praises  and  prayer  to  God  ;  he 
answers,  Because  he  is  my  life.   He  is  I  he  au- 

I  tlior  and  preserver  of  iny  temporal  life,  and 
all  the  passages  and  accidents  of  it  are  in  his 

j  hand  alone.  He  haih  also  given  me,  and  he 
maintains  in  me  a  spiritual  life  ;  yea,  he  is 
the  life  of  my  soul  :  it  lives  by  union  with 
him,  as  my  body  does  by  union  with  it,  and 

Ihehaihlaid  up  life  eternal  for  me.  Would 
Christians  think  thus  indeed,  the  light  of  this 
consideration  would  dispel  their  distrustful 
fears.  Certainly  there  is  atheism  at  the  bot- 
tom of  them  ;  if  not  a  denial  or  a  misconceit 
of  God,  at  least  a  forgetfulness  of  God.  See 
Isa.  li.  12,  13  :  /,  even  I,  am  he  that  comfort- 
eth  i/ou.  Who  art  thou  that  thou  shoiildst  be 
af  raid  of  a  man  that  shall  die,  and  of  the  son 
of  man,  which  shall  be  made  as  grass,  and 
forgetlest  the  Lord  thij  Maker,  that  hath 
stretched  forth  the  heavens,  and  laid  the  foun- 
dations of  the  earth  ?  Consider,  then,  that 
men  have  no  power  over  our  present  life,  but 
by  the  aiipcjintment  of  God.  And  beside  that, 
we  have  another  life  which  is  infinitely  more 
precious  than  ibis  :  a  life  spiritual,  and  which 

[is  the  beginning  of  eternal  life;  and  this  is  al- 
together 0111  of  danger  I'rom  them.    Our  life 

i  is  hid  vnlh  Christ  m  Go-d.  Col.  iii.  3.  It  is 
hid,  and  wicked  men  can  not  so  much  as  see 
it  :  how  tlien  should  iliey  take  it  from  us, see- 

I  ing  it  is  hid  ?   And  that  not  meanly  :  it  is  hid 


470 


GENEROUS  GRIEF. 


|Ser.  ¥11. 


V  ith  Oil  isl  in  God.  W.iat  tlien  stiall  become 
of  it?  Read  the  next  verse,  aiul  read  it  to 
your  comfort,  for  there  is  ahuiuhince  in  it,  if 
you  look  riiflit  upon  it.  ]V/icn  ( '/irist,  who  is 
otir  life  xhiill  a/ipear,  kv  Itkcici.ir  shdll  appear 
Willi  him  III  <^/ori/.  They  that  are  in  God,  he- 
iiiff  united  to  liim  throu<ih  Clirist,  can  never] 
by  any  power  be  se|)arated  from  liim.  ll  is 
an  iudi^soluble  union.  Death  itsell',  that  is 
the  ffreat  dissolver  of  all  other  unions,  civil 
and  natural,  is  so  far  from  untyina'  this,  that 
it  consummates  it  :  it  conveys  the  soul  into 
.he  nearest  and  fullest  enjoyment  of  God,  who 
IS  its  life,  where  it  shall  not  need  to  desire 
thai  God  would  comnnind  (or  send)  his  lovim; 
kindness,  as  it  were  from  a  distance  :  it  shall 
be  then  al  the  sprinsr-head,  and  shall  be  sal- 
islied  with  his  love  for  ever. 


SERMON  VII. 

GENEROUS  GRIEF. 

Wherefore  do  tjou  spend  money  for  that 
which  is  not  bread,  and  your  la/ior  for  thai 
uhich  satisfies  not  ?  says  the  prophet.  Isaiah 
Iv.  2.  All  men  agree  in  this,  that  they  would 
willingly  meet  with  some  satisfying  good  ; 
and  yet,  if  you  look  aright  upon  the  iirojects 
and  labors  of  tlie  greatest  j)art,you  shall  tind 
them  flying  from  it,  and  taking  much  pains 
to  be  miserable.  And  truly,  considering  the 
darkness  that  is  upon  the  soul  of  man,  it  is  no 
great  wonder  to  see  those  miss  their  way, 
and  continue  wandering,  who  hear  not  the 
Voice  of  ihe  gospel  to  recall  them,  and  see 
not  its  light  to  direct  them.  But  this  is  some- 
what strange,  that  where  true  happiness,  and  | 
the  true  way  to  it  are  propounded  and  set  be- 
fore men,  so  few  should  follow  it  in  aood  ear- 
nest. If  the  excellency  of  that  good  did  not 
allure  them,  yet  one  would  think  that  their 
many  disappointments  in  all  other  things, 
should  drive  them  home  to  it.  How  often  do 
we  run  ourselves  out  of  breath  afier  shadows  ! 
And  when  we  think  we  have  overtaken  them, 
tid  would  lay  hold  of  them,  we  find  nothing. 
And  yet,  still  we  love  to  befool  ourselves, 
even  against  our  own  experience,  which,  we 
say,  uses  to  make  fools  wiser.  Still  we  choose 
rather  to  shift  from  one  vanity  to  another, 
than  to  return  to  that  Sovereign  Good,  that 
alone  can  fill  the  vastest  desires  of  our  souls  ; 
rather  to  run  from  one  broken  cistern  to  anoth- 
er, as  the  [)rophet  calls  them,  yea,  and  to  take 
pains  to  hew  them  out,  than  have  recourse  10 
that  Fountain  of  living  waters.  One  main 
thing  that  makes  men  tlius  rove  and  wander 
is,  that  ihey  do  not  reflect  upon  their  own 
eourse,  nor  upon  themselves,  what  is  the 
main  end  they  aim  al,  and  then  see  whether 
.heir  way  be  suitable  to  that  end.  If  they 
would  he  hapjjy  (as  who  would  not?)  then 
surely,  things  that  are  empty,  and  uncertain, 
and  certainly  perishing,  will  not  serve  the 


turn.  And  truly,  as  the  thought  would  bi! 
seasonaljle  at  any  time,  so  espec-ially  to  us  in 
these  times,  wherein,  beside  the  common  un- 
ceriainiy  of  outward  things,  there  is  an  a[)- 
parent  visible  hazard  that  men's  lives  and  for- 
tunes are  likely  to  be  put  to.  Will  you  make 
advantage  and  gain  of  your  trouble?  Thus: 
The  looser  you  find  oilier  things  tied  to  you, 
and  as  it  were  upon  a  running  knot,  secure 
that  one  thing,  and  your  jiortion  in  il,  which 
is  worth  all  ihe  rest :  yea,  far  above  them  all. 
and  that  alone  which  can  be  secured,  and 
made  certain.  Wanting  this,  what  though 
you  had  peace,  and  health,  and  all  imagina- 
ble pros])(>riiy,  you  would  still  be  miserable, 
beins  liable  to  the  wrath  ol'God,  and  eternal 
destruction.  But  if  once  united  to  Christ,  and 
in  him  reconciled  to  God,  and  entitled  to 
heaven,  what  can  fall  amiss  to  you''  Vou 
shall  have  joy  in  the  midst  of  sorrow  and  af- 
fliction, and  peace  in  the  midst  of  war,  yea, 
and  life  in  death.  But  think  not  to  attain  this 
assurance  while  you  continue  profane  and 
Godless,  not  seeking  it  in  the  way  of  holiness, 
for  there  alone  it  is  to  be  found.  And  withal 
beg  it  of  God  by  humble  prayer. 

PsALji  cxix.  136. 

Rivers  of  waters  run  down  mine  eyes  :  because  they 
ke*j)  not  thy  law. 

Love  is  the  leading  passion  of  the  soul :  all 

the  rest  follow  the  measure  and  motion  of  it, 
as  the  lower  heavens  are  said  to  be  wheeled 
about  with  the  first. 

We  have  here  a  clear  instance  of  it  in  the 
psalmist,  who  is  testify  ing  his  love  to  God,  by 
his  esteem  and  love  of  the  law  or  word  of  God. 
What  is  each  of  the  several  verses  of  this 
Psalm,  but  a  several  breathing  and  vent  of 
this  love,  either  in  itself,  or  in  the  causes,  or 
in  the  effects  of  it  ?  Where  he  sets  forth  the 
excellencies  and  utilities  of  God's  law,  there 
you  have  the  causes  of  his  love.  His  observ- 
ing and  studying  of  it,  his  desire  to  know 
it  more  and  observe  it  better,  these  are  the 
effects  of  his  affection  to  it.  The  love  itself 
lie  often  expresseth,  ver.  47,48,  113,  and  140. 
Thy  word  is  pure  ;  therefore  thy  servant  lov- 
clh  it.  And  ver.  127:  /  love  thy  command- 
me?its  above  <iold,  yen,  above  fine  gold.  But 
as  scarcely  accounting  that  love  which  can 
be  uttered,  how  much  il  is,  ver.  97,  he  ex- 
presseth il  most  by  intimating  that  he  can 
not  express  it:  O,  hoiv  1  love  thy  law  !  Hence 
are  his  desires  (which  are  love  in  pursuit)  so 
earnest  after  it.  Among  many,  that  is  pa- 
thetical,  verse  20  :  My  soul  brenkelh  for  the 
longing  that  {t  hath  unto  thy  jiulgment  at  all 
times.  Hence,  likewise,  his  joy  and  delight 
(which  are  love  in  possession),  verse  14  :  I 
have  rejoiced  in  the  way  of  thy  testimonies  as 
much  as  in  all  riches  ;  and  ver.  IG,  I  will  de- 
light  miiself  in  thy  statutes  ;  J  will  not  forget 
thy  word.  We  have  his  hatred  of  things  op- 
posite (which  is  love's  antipailiy),  ver.  113, 
/  hate  vain  thoughts,  but  thy  law  do  I  love  • 


Psalm  cxix.  136.J 


GENEROUS  GRIEF. 


47J 


ver.  163,  /  hate  and  abhor  lyin  tr,  hut  thy  law  ! 
do  I  luce.  And  in  the  139th  verse  you  sliall 
find  his  zeal  (wnich  is  no  other  than  tlie  fire 
of  love  stirred  up  or  blown  into  a  ttaine).  My 
zeal  hath  CO hjurned  me  ;  because  mine  enemies  1 
have  forgotten  Ihy  words.  And  (to  omit  the 
rest)  in  the  158th  verse,  his  love  to  the  law, 
shows  its  sympathy  in  sorrow  for  the  viola- 
tion of  the  law  :  /  beheld  the  Irarigressors 
and  was  grieved  ;  because  they  kej)t  not  thy 
word.  And  here  you  find  this  grief  swelling 
to  such  a  height,  that  it  runs  over  into  abun- 
dant tears.  Hirers  of  waters  run  down  mine 
eyes;  because  they  keep  not  ihy  law. 

The  words  have  briefly,  these  rivers  in 
their  channel  and  course.  They  run  down 
mine  eyes ;  and  then,  in  their  spring  and 
cause,  to  wit,  the  psalmist's  sympathy  with 
God's  law  broken  by  men,  in  the  latter  clause 
of  the  verse,  because  Ihcy  keep  not  thy  law. 
But  both  together  clearly  teach  us.  Thai  <;oJ- 
ly  men  are  affected  with  deep  sorrow  for  the 
sins  of  the  ungodly. 

More  particularly  consider,  I.  The  object 
of  this  affection.  II.  The  nature  of  it.  III. 
The  degree  or  measure  of  it.    IV.  Its  subject. 

I.  The  object  is,  the  transgression  of  the 
law,  or,  to  take  it  (as  in  the  text)  in  concreto, 
men  transgressors  of  the  law  :  They  keep  not 
thy  law.  It  is  true, Me  whole  creation  s^roaneth 
under  ihe  burden  of  sin,  in  the  effects  of  it,  as 
the  Apostle  s])eaks,  Rom.  viii.  32  ;  but  sin 
itself  is  man's  enemy,  he  being  that  reasona- 
ble creature  to  whom  the  law  was  given. 
Now  in  the  general  it  is  a  matter  of  grief  to 
a  godly  mind  to  consider  the  universal  de- 
pravedness  of  man's  nature  ;  that  he  is  a 
tra.-\fgressor  from  the  womb  ;  that  the  carnal 
mind  IS  enmity  against  God,  not  subject  to  his 
law,  neither,  wiiile  it  remains  such,  can  it  be. 
Rom.  viii.  6.  And  this  grief  will  go  the 
deeper  by  remembering  whence  he  is  fallen.  ! 
When  he  was  new  come  forth  of  the  hands 
of  his  Maker,  that  image  of  God  which  he 
stamped  upon  him  shined  bright  in  his  soul : 
the  whole  frame  of  it  was  regular  and  comely, 
the  inferior  fa;;ulties  obeyiiitr  ihc  higher,  and 
all  of  them  subject  unto  God.  But  how  soon 
was  he  seduced,  and  then  what  a  great  change 
ensued  !  Quantum  mulatus  ab  illo  !  There 
is  ever  since,  such  a  tumult  and  confusion  in 
the  soul,  that  it  can  not  hear  the  voice  of 
God's  law,  much  less  obey  and  keep  it. 
Hence  is  that  complaint  of  the  psalmist  of- 
lener  than  once.  They  are  all  gone  out  of  the 
way,  and  become  abominable :  there  is  Jione 
that  doth  good,  no,  not  one.  Mundux  im- 
munilus,  i"  'iriiKtii  KCiTiii,  lies  buried,  in  it,  as  the 
Word  is  used  in  the  inscription  of  tombs,  •vOnh 
KtiTif.  Look  abroad  in  the  world,  and  what 
shall  ye  see  but  a  sea  of  wickedness  over  the 
face  of  the  wlujie,  which  draws  frcmi  a  godly, 
discerning  eye  that  beholds  it,  these  rivers 
of  tears  ?  The  greatest  part  not  knowing  | 
the  true  God,  nor  the  true  religion  and  the 
true  way  of  his  worship.  And  for  those  that 
do,  yet,  how  unlike  are  they  to  it  in  their , 


!  lives  !  The  reformed  churches  tfiis  way,  how 
unreformed  are  they  in  a  great  pari  ! 

But  more  particularly  to  branch  this  out  a 
little  i[i  respect  to  several  sorts  of  men,  this 
1  godly  grief  is  a  very  large  sphere  ;  ii  will  ex- 
tend to  remote  people,  remote  every  way,  not 
only  in  place  but  in  manners  and  religion, 
even  to  heathens  and  gross  idolaters.  Yea, 
the  very  sins  of  enemies,  and  of  such  as  are 
professed  enemies  to  God,  yet  move  the  ten- 
der-hearted Christian  to  sorrow  and  compas- 
sion. Of  whom  I  now  tell  you  weeping,  says 
St.  Paul,  that  they  are  enemies  to  the  cross  of 
Christ.  Phil.  iii.  8.  Enemies,  and  yet  bespeaks 
of  them  weeping.  What  he  writes  concern- 
ing them,  he  would  have  written  in  tears,  if 
that  had  been  legible.  Thus  you  see  the  ex- 
tension of  this  grief.  But  yet,  out  of  all 
question,  it  will  be  more  intense  in  particulars 
of  nearer  concernment.  It  is  the  burden  of 
the  pious  man's  heart,  that  his  law  who 
made  the  world  and  gives  being  to  all  things, 
should  be  so  little  regarded,  and  so  much 
broken  through  all  the  world  :  but  yet  more 
especially,  that  in  his  own  church,  among 
his  own  people,  transgression  should  abound. 
Sins  within  the  church  are  most  properly 
scandals.  God  manifest  Iiimself  (so  to  speak\ 
most  sensible  of  those,  and  therefore  the  godly 
man  is  so  too.  Whether  they  be  the  con- 
tinual enormities  of  licentious  and  profane 
persons,  which  are  by  external  profession  in 
the  face  of  the  visible  church  (though  indeed 
they  be  in  it  but  as  spots  and  blcmishrs,  as 
the  apostle  speaks  :  2  Pet.  ii.  13),  or  whether 
it  be  the  apostacy  of  hypocrites;  or  (which 
sometimes  falls  out)  the  gross  falls  of  true 
converts:  all  these  are  the  great  grief  of  the 
godly.  The  relations  of  men,  either  natural 
or  civil,  will  add  something  too  ;  this  sorrow 
will  in  such  cases  be  greater  than  ordinary  in 
a  Christian  :  he  will  melt  it  in  a  particular 
tenderness  for  the  sins  of  his  kindred,  parents 
or  children,  husband  or  wife:  and  most  of  all, 
ministers  will  grieve  for  the  sins  of  their 
people.  IIow  pathetically  does  this  apjiear 
in  St.  Paul!  And  lest,  ichen  J  come  airam, 
my  (jod  will  humble  me  among  ijou,  and  that 
I  shall  betiuiil  many  which  have  sinned  already, 
and  have  not  repi  riled  of  the  unclennness,  and 
fornication,  and  lascivinusness,  which  they 
hare  committed,  2  Cor  xii.  21.  A  man  can 
no:  but  be  more  particularly  touched  with  the 
s.ns  (if  that  nation,  and  of  that  city,  and  con- 
gregation and  family,  whereof  he  is  a  mem- 
ber. So  we  read  of  Lot,  2  Pet.  ii.  8:  For  that 
righteous  man  dwellin'j;  among  them,  in  see- 
ins"  and  hearing,  vexed  his  righteous  soul, 
from  daij  to  day,  with  their  unlawful  deeds. 
The  sins  of  more  eminent  persons,  either  in 
church  or  commonwealth,  will  most  affect  a 
prudent  Christian,  because  their  iiiclniations 
and  actions  import  the  ])tiblic  much.  There- 
!  fore  the  apostle,  when  he  had  exhorted  to 
siipplirations  and  jirayers  for  all  men.  par- 
tictilarly  mentions  kin^s,  and  such  as  are  ir, 
,  authority.  1  Tim.  i.  2.    And  truly,  when  'hcf 


♦"2 


GENEROUS  GRIEF. 


LSer.  VII. 


arc  ainiscd  by  nii«ailvico  ,ini!  corrupt  counsel, 
pomi'  of  ilu'se  tears  were  very  well  Piunit,  if 
poured  forth  before  God  in  their  behalf:  for 
in  /Its  /land,  as  that  wise  \i\ng  confesscth,  ai-e 
t/ietr  hearts,  .iherc  compared  to  rivers  of 
uafers ;  let  their  motion  be  never  so  impetu- 
ous, yet  fie  Itimelh  them  whithersoever  he 
ji/easeth.  Prov.  xxi.  1.  And  wiio  knows  but 
these  rivers  of  waters,  these  tears,  may  pre- 
vail Willi  the  Lord  to  reduce  the  violent  cur- 
rent of  that  river,  a  king's  heart,  from  the 
wrong  channel  ? 

II.  But  to  proceed:  the  second  thing  to  be 
considered  in  tiiis  affection,  is,  the  nature  of 
at.  (1.)  It  is  not  a  stoical  apathy,  and  affect- 
ed carelessness  ;  much  less  a  delightful  par- 
taking withsinlul  practices.  (2.)  Not  a  proud 
ee'ting  off  of  their  own  goodness,  with  mark- 
inrj  the  sin  of  others,  as  the  Pharisee  did  in 
the  gospel.  (3.)  Not  the  derision  and  mocking 
of  the  folly  of  men,  with  that  laufrhms:  jihil- 
osopher :  it  comes  nearer  to  the  temper  of 
the  other  who  ivepl  always  for  it.  It  is  not  a 
bitter,  bilious  anger,  breaking  forth  into 
railings  and  reproaches,  nor  an  U])braiding 
insultaiion.  Nor  is  it  a  vindictive  desire  of 
punishment,  venting  itself  in  cursings  and 
imprecations,  which  is  the  rash  temper  of 
many,  but  especially  of  the  vulgar  sort.  The 
disciples'  mtJtion  to  Christ  was  far  different 
from  that  way,  and  yet  he  says  to  them.  You 
knoiv  not  of  ichnl  spirit  ye  are.  They  thought 
they  had  been  of  Elijah's  spirit,  but  he  told 
chem  they  were  mistaken,  and  did  not  know 
of  what  spirit  they  were  in  that  motion.  Thus 
heady  zeal  often  mistakes  and  flatters  itself. 
We  find  not  here  a  desire  of  fire  to  come 
down  from  heaven  upon  the  breakers  of  the 
law,  but  such  a  a;rief  as  would  rather  bring 
water  to  quench  it,  if  it  were  falling  on  them. 
Rivers  of  ivaters  run  down  mine  eyes. 

III.  The  (leixree  of  this  sorrow  :  it  is  vehe- 
ment, not  a  light,  transient  dislike,  but  a  deep 
resentment,  such  as  causeth  not  some  few 
sighs,  or  some  drops  of  tears,  but  rivers — 
Pidge  rnaijiin.  Pelngus  aquarum.  It  is  true, 
tliB  measure  and  degree  of  sorrow  for  sin, 
wiether  their  own  or  others,  are  different  in 
dirers  persons,  who  are  yet  true  mourners; 
and  they  are  also  different  in  the  same  persoi., 
at  divers  times,  not  only  upon  the  difference 
of  the  cause,  hut  even  where  the  cause  is 
equal,  upon  the  different  influence  and  work- 
ing of  the  Si)irit  of  God.  Sometimes  it 
pleaseth  him  to  warm  and  melt  the  heart 
more  abundantly,  and  so  he  raises  these  rMvz-.s, 
in  those  eyes,  to  a  higher  tide  than  ordinary  ; 
Fometimes  they  remove  again.  But  yet  iliis 
godly  sorrow  is  always  serious  and  sincere  ; 
and  that  is  the  other  quality  here  remarka- 
ble in  it.  It  is  not  a  histrionical  weeping, 
only  in  public  ;  for  the  speech  is  here  direct- 
ed to  God,  as  a  more  frecjuent  witness  of  these 
tears  than  any  other;  who  is  always  the 
w'tness  of  the  sincerity  of  them,  even  when 
tliey  can  not  be  hid  from  the  eyes  of  men. 
Vqi  I  deny  not  but  they  may,  and  should, 


have  vent  in  public,  especially  at  such  tlme^ 
as  are  set  apart  for  solemn  mourniiig  and 
h.umiliation.  Yet,  even  then,  usually  these 
streams  run  deei)e!^t,  where  they  are  stilles' 
and  most  quietly  conveyed.  But  surely  they 
should  not  be  I'ewer  and  less  freiiiient,  alone, 
than  in  company,  for  that  is  a  little  subject  to 
suspicion.  See  Jer.  ix.  1  :  OA,  that  my  head 
were  waters,  and  mine  eyesa  fountain  of  tears, 
thai  I  might  ivctp  day  and  night  for  the  slain 
of  the  daughter  of  niy  people.  And,  xiii.  17  ; 
Bui  if  ye  will  not  hear  it,  my  soul  shall  weep 
xn  secret  places  for  your  pndc,  and  mine  eyes 
shall  weep  sore,  and  run  down  with  tears,  be- 
cause the  Lord's  flock  is  carried  away  cap- 
tive. 

IV.  The  suhject  of  this  affection  is,  not  to 
the  ungodly  themselves,  who  are  prolessed 
transgressors  of  this  law  ;  they  rather  make 
a  sport  of  sin,  as  Solomon  speaks  ;  they  play 
and  make  themselves  merry  with  it,  as  tht 
Philistines  did  with  Samson,  till  it  brings  the 
house  down  about  their  ears  ;  but  the  godly 
are  they  that  are  affected  with  this  sorrow, 
such  as  are  careful  observers  of  the  law  them- 
selves, and  mourn  first  for  their  own  breach- 
es :  for  these  are  the  only  fit  mourners  lor  the 
transgression  of  others. 

Now  to  inquire  a  little  into  ihecause  of  this, 
why  the  breaking  of  God's  law  should  cause 
such  sorrow  in  the  godly,  as  here  break eth 
forth  into  abundance  of  tears.  We  shall  find 
it  very  reasonable  if  we  consider,  1.  The  na- 
ture of  sin,  which  is  the  transgression,  or 
breach  of  the  law,  as  the  apostle  defines  it. 

2.  The  nature  of  this  sorrow  and  these  tears. 

3.  The  nature  of  the  godly. 

1.  Sin  is  the  greatest  evil  in  the  world  ;  yea, 
truly,  in  comparison,  it  alone  is  worth  the 
name  of  evil,  and  therefore  may  justly  chal- 
lenge sorrow,  and  the  greatest  sorrow.  The 
greatest  of  evils  it  is,  both  formally,  in  that 
it  aloneis  the  defilement  and  deformity  of  the 
soul,  and  casualli/,  being  the  root  whence 
all  other  evils  spring  ;  the  fruitful  womb  that 
conceives  and  brings  forth  all  those  miseries 
that  either  man  feels,  or  hath  ^cause  to  fear. 
Whence  are  all  those  personal  evils  incident 
to  men  in  their  estates,  or  in  their  bodies,  or 
minds,  outward  turmoils  and  diseases,  and  in- 
ward discontents,  and  death  itself,  in  all  the 
kinds  of  it  ;  are  they  not  all  the  fruits  of  that 
bitter  root  ?  Whence  arise  those  public  mis- 
eries of  nations  and  kingdoms,  but  from  the 
epidemic  national  sins  (jf  the  people,  as  the 
deserving  and  procuring  cause  at  God's  hand, 
and  withal,  oftentimes  from  the  ambitious  and 
wicked  practices  of  some  particular  men,  as 
the  working  and  effecting  causes  ?  So  that 
every  w,iy,  if  we  follow  these  evils  home  to 
their  original,  we  shall  find  it  to  be  sin,  or  the 
breaking  of  God's  law.  Ungodly  men,  though 
they  meddle  not  with  public  affairs  at  all, 
yea,  though  they  be  faithful  and  honest  in 
meddling  with  them,  yet,  by  reason  of  their 
impious  lives,  are  traitors  to  their  nation 
they  are  truly  the  incendiaries  of  states  and 


/ 


''SALM  cxix.  136.J 


GEINEROQS  GRIEF. 


473 


kingdoms.  And  these  mourners,  though  they 
can  do  no  more,  are  the  most  loyal  and  most 
serviceable  subjects,  bringing  tears  to  quench 
the  fire  of  wraih,  rivers  of  waters.  And 
therefore  sorrow  and  lears  are  not  only  most 
due  to  sin,  as  the  greatest  of  evils,  but  they 
are  best  bestowed  upon  it,  if  they  can  do  any 
thing  to  its  redress,  because  that  is  both  the 
surest  and  most  compendious  way  to  remedy 
all  the  rest,  sin  being  the  source  and  spring 
of  them  all. 

Tliis  is  the  reason  why  Jeremiah,  ch.  ix.  1, 
when  he  would  weep  for  the  slain  of  his  peo- 
ple, is  straightway  led  from  that  to  bewail 
the  sin  of  his  people,  ver.  2,  3.  And  in  his 
Book  of  tears  and  lamentations,  he  often  re- 
duces all  these  sad  evils,  to  sin  as  causing 
lhi?m,  particularly  ch.  v.  16,  The  crown  is  fal- 
len from  our  luad.  Wo  unto  us,  that  we  have 
iinned  !  He  turns  the  complaint  more  to  the 
sui  than  to  the  affliction. 

'  2.  Collider  the  nature  of  these  tears.  Tears 
spent  for  worldly  crosses,  are  all  lost ;  they 
ruQ  all  to  waste  ;  they  are  lachryma  inanes, 
empty,  fruitless  things.  But  tears  shed  for 
the  breach  ol'  God's  law.  are  the  means  to 
quench  God's  wrath.  The  prayers  and  tears 
of  some  few,  may  avert  the  punishment  of 
many,  yea,  of  a  whole  land.  And  if  not  so, 
yet  they  are  not  lost ;  the  mourners  them- 
selves have  always  benefit  by  them  :  as  you 
have  it  in  that  known  place,  Ezek.  ix.  4,  they 
that  mourned  for  the  common  abominations 
were  marked,  and  the  common  desolation 
took  not  hold  on  them.  This  mourning  for 
other  men's  wickedness,  both  testifies  and 
preserves  the  godly  man's  innocence.  I  say, 
it  preserves  it,  as  well  as  testifies  it :  it  keeps 
him  from  the  contagion  of  that  bad  air  he 
lives  in  ;  lor  without  this,  sin  would  soon 
grow  familiar.  It  is  good  for  men  to  keep 
up  and  mamtain  in  their  souls  a  dislike  of 
sitf  ;  for  when  once  it  ceaseth  to  be  displeas- 
ing to  a  man,  it  will,  before  long,  begin  to  be 
pleasing  to  liim. 

3.  If  we  consider  the  nature  of  the  godly, 
we  shall  see  this  mourning  suit  with  it  exceed- 
ingly, both  in  regard  of  Ins  relation  to  God, 
and  to  man.  God  is  his  father,  and  therefore 
it  can  not grieve  him  much,  to  see  him  of- 
fended and  disiionored.  Love  to  God,  and 
consequently  to  his  law,  and  love  to  men,  and 
desire  of  their  good,  arc  the  spring  of  these 
rivers.  A  godly  man  is  tender  of  God's  glcry 
and  of  his  law  ;  every  sir(jkc  that  it  receives, 
strikeih  his  heart :  and  he  hath  bowels  of  corn- 
passion  to  men,  and  would  be  glad  if  they 
were  converted  and  saved.  He  considers  ev- 
ery mail  as  his  brother,  and  therefore  is  sor- 
rowful to  see  him  run  the  hazard  of  perishing 
111  iin.  The  former  sympathy,  whereby  the 
godly  man  tenders  the  glory  of  God,  is  from 
his  piety  :  this  latter,  whereby  he  pities  the 
mise.'y  of  imn,  is  from  his  charity.  And  from 
these  flow  the  rivrs  fluit  run  down  his  eyes. 

To  be  loo  sensifjlc  of  worldly  crosses,  and 
prodigal  of*  tears  Ujion  such  slight  occasions. 
6C 


is  little  better  than  childish  or  womanish  ; 
but  these  tears  that  flow  from  love  to  God 
and  grief  for  sin,  have  neither  uncomeliness 
nor  excess  in  them.  Abundance  of  them 
will  beseem  any  man  who  is  a  Christian.  Let 
profane  men  judge  it  a  weakness  to  weep  for 
sin,  yet,  we  see  David  do  it.  Men  of  arms 
and  valor  need  not  fear  disparagement  by 
weeping  thus:  it  is  the  truest  magnanimity, 
to  be  sensible  of  the  point  of  God's  honor, 
which  is  injured  by  sin. 

Again,  the  consideration  of  this  truth  will 
discover  the  world  guilty  of  very  much  in- 
gratitude to  godly  men.  It  hath  always  been 
the  custom  of  profane  persons,  to  seek  to 
brand  religion  and  godliness  with  disloyalty 
and  turbulency,  and  to  make  it  pass  for  an 
enemy  to  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  stales 
and  kingdoms.  You  see  clearly  with  what 
affection  religion  furnishes  men  toward  the 
public,  causing  them  to  mourn  for  common 
sins,  and  so  to  prevent,  as  far  as  in  them  lies, 
common  calamities.  And  this  is  of  no  little 
consequence  ;  for  truly,  it  is  not  foreign  pow- 
er, so  much  as  sin  at  home,  that  ruins  king- 
doms. All  the  winds  that  blow  without  the 
earth,  be  they  never  so  violent,  stir  it  not ; 
only  that  which  is  within  its  own  bowels, 
makes  an  earthquake.  It  was  a  grave  an- 
swer of  E[)aminondas,  being  asked  what  he 
was  doing  solitary  and  pensive  in  the  time  of 
solemn  mirth  and  feasting:  While  my  coun- 
trymen,  said  he,  are  so  fcaceahly  feasting,  1 
am  thinking  on  the  best  means  to  preserve  that 
peace  to  them  that  it  may  continue.  Which,  a 
little  altered,  is  applicable  to  the  godly.  They 
are  oftentimes  mourning  for  the  sins  and  pray- 
ing for  the  peace,  of  the  places  where  they 
live;  when  in  the  mean  time,  the  greatest 
part  are  multiplying  sin,  and  so  forfeiting 
their  peace. 

Rivers  of  waters.  "This  is  a  mournful, 
n'.elancholy  life  that  these  Precisians  lead," 
says  the  workllhig.  Yes,  truly,  if  there  were 
no  more  in  it  than  what  we  can  perceive  and 
judge  of.  But  besides  the  full  joy  laid  up  for 
them,  and  the  beginnings  of  it  here,  there  is 
even  in  this  mourning  an  unknown  sweet- 
ness and  delight.  The  philosoplier  says  even 
of  common  tears,  that  there  is  some  kind  of 
pleasure  in  them,  as  some  things  please  the 
taste  by  their  very  tartness.  But  of  these 
lears,  they  that  know  them,  know  it  to  be 
eminently  true,  that  they  are  pleasant.  But 
be  this  exercise  as  sad  as  the  [)rofane  call  it, 
yet,  why  observe  they  not  that  they  them- 
selves are  much  the  cause  of  it?  As  they 
may  read  here  ;  Because  they  keep  not  Gf>d''s 
law. 

But  to  pass  by  divers  inferences  that  the 
words  afford,  let  us  take  notice  of  the  duty 
here  practised,  and  how  much  we  are  all 
obliged  to  the  present  practice  of  it.  Who 
will  deny  that  we  have  too  much  matter  and 
occasions  of  it  ?  Besides  the  sorrow  of  Sion, 
and  particularly  the  bloodshedding  and  dis- 
tress of  our  brethren,  and  our  own  danjjer. 


174 


GENEROUS  GRIEF. 


Ser.  Vli. 


wlial  corner  of  the  land,  what  rank  or  cimdi- 
tiiin  of  people  is  there  that  abounds  not  in 
pross  and  heinous  violations  of  God's  law  ? 
Tlicji  keep  not  ifii/  law  :  nias^istrates  and 
judges  turning  judgment  inlo  gall  and  worm- 
wood :  ministers  remiss  in  that  great  care, 
the  care  of  souls  ;  [leople  wallowing  in  un- 
godliness; and  uncli  anness,  swearing, and  other 
profanenc'-s ;  the  <;realer  ojjprcssing  ihe  less, 
and  the  itss  defrauding  and  wroniring  the 
greater  ;  no  sensible  and  notable  work  of  con- 
version almost  to  he  seen  or  heard  of  atnong 
us  :  the  Lord  absenting  himself  from  his  ordi- 
nances. O  that  he  wiiuld  dwell  in  his  house, 
and  fill  it  with  a  cloud  of  his  glory  ! 

What  vile  uncleanness  and  wantonness  ! 
What  shameful  drunkenness  and  excess  ! 
And  some  are  so  far  from  nu)urning  for  others' 
guiltiness  of  this  sin,  that  they  glory  in  making 
others  guilty  of  it,  and  count  it  a  pastime  to 
make  others  drunk.  And  this  is  a  far  great- 
er sin  than  drunkenness  itself ;  for  these  men, 
while  they  make  beasts  of  their  companions, 
make  devils  of  themselves,  becoming  temp- 
ters and  provokers  to  sin.  If  any  such  be  here, 
either  tremble  at  the  wo  that  the  prophet  Ha- 
bakkuk  (chap,  ii.)  denounceth,  or  confess  that 
you  believe  not  the  scriptures  :  Wo  to  htm  that 
gives  his  neitrhbor  drink,  and  puts  the  bottle  to 
him  to  make  him  drunken.  The  cup  of  the  i 
Lnrd^s  right  hand  shall  be  turned  to  thee  :  it 
is  full  of  heavy  vengeance.  There  is  a  cup,  if 
you  like  it,  to  pay  you  home  the  cups  you 
give  to  others. 

Again,  how  is  the  land  filled  with  oaths 
and  cursings  I  How  are  your  streets,  and  al- 
most all  companies  where  a  man  can  come, 
defded,  partly  with  tearing  the  precious  name 
of  God,  partly  with  calling  on  the  devil  ! 

There  would  be  no  end  of  reckoning  up  all 
particulars  ;  sabbath-breaking,  fraud  and  cov- 
etousness,  pride  and  malice,  and  envyings 
one  of  another,  and  the  rest.  But  the  sum  is 
this,  a  universal  want  of  the  fear  of  God  and 
his  law. 

And  the  cause  of  this,  is,  in  a  great  part, 
ignorance  of  God  and  of  his  law.  And  truly 
it  is  wonderful  under  so  much  light  and  such 
plentiful  preachinir,  to  find  so  much  dark- 
ness, not  only  in  the  skirts  and  remote  places, 
but  even  in  the  prime  pacts  of  t'^is  land.  Mul- 
titudes there  are  tSat  are  strangers  to  the  very 
principles  and  fundamentals  of  that  religion 
which  they  profess  :  and  they  that  have 
knowledge  are  Ibund  abusing  it,  and  sinning 
against  it,  contitming  in  profaneness.  And  , 
without  this  true  religion,  it  is  as  impossible  [ 
to  have  renewed  hearts  and  lives,  as  to  have  | 
a  house  without  a  foundation,  or,  as  we  say,  j 
a  castle  in  the  air.  And  thisatheisn  and  ig- 
norance among  people,  is  in  a  great  part  to 
be  imputed  to  the  corruption  and  sloth  of 
ministers.  Would  to  God  there  were  not 
many  congrcerations,  not  altogether  destitute, 
but  such  as  are  freezing  under  a  cold  and 
lifeless  ministry  ! 

You  see,  then,  we  want  not  causes  of  mourn-  I 


ing  and  humiliation,  on  a11  hands  :  but  our 
want  is  inward,  of  that  due  disposition  for  it. 
softness  of  heart,  and  that  love  to  God,  which 
should  melt  and  mollify  the  heart.  Let  us 
then  stir  up  ourselves  and  one  another,  to  this 
godly  sorrow  for  the  sins  of  the  land.  There 
is  need  of  rivers  of  tears  for  these  heaps  of 
sin  .•  as  they  tell  of  Hercules'  letting  in  a  river 
to  that  monstrous  stable  of  Augeus,  that  could 
not  otherwise  have  been  cleansed  in  the  lime 
allotted  him. 

And  truly,  as  the  duty  lies  upon  all  the 
faithful,  the  ministers  of  the  word  ought  to 
be  most  eminent  in  it,  the  chief  mourners,  the 
precentors,  to  take  up  the  tune  of  these 
themes.  Joel  ii.  17.  And  all  that  wish  the 
good  of  church  and  kingdom,  ought  to  bear  a 
part  in  them,  according  to  their  measure. 
Have  we  not  much  need  to  entreat  recon- 
cilement wiih  God,  that  he  prove  not  our 
enemy  ?  Yes,  surely,  and  were  we  reconcil- 
ed with  him,  we  should  have  little*  need  tb 
fear  the  power  of  man. 

Now,  they  that  would  be  profitable  mourn- 
ers for  others'  sins,  by  all  means,  must  have 
these  two  conditions  I  mentioned  ;  to  be  care- 
ful observers  of  the  law  themselves,  and  to 
mourn  for  their  own  failing  and  breaking  of 
it.  Now,  to  the  observing  of  the  law,  it  is  ab- 
solutely needful  (L)  To  know  and  under- 
stand it,  and  that  not  only  in  the  letter  and 
surface,  but  accordinff  to  the  spiritual  sense 
and  meaning  of  it.  For  without  this  knowl- 
edge, a  man  may  light  upon  some  duty  by 
guess,  as  it  were  in  the  dark,  bnt  observe  the 
law  he  can  not.  They  are  not  alone  rcprove- 
able,  who  glory  in  their  own  sins,  and  make 
sport  of  the  sins  of  others,  but  they  mistake 
it  much,  who  think  it  enough  to  consider 
their  own  with  grief,  and  judge  the  sins  of 
others  an  imperiinency  for  them  to  think  on. 
As  they  mourn  not  aright  for  others,  who  be- 
gin not  at  themselves,  so  they  mourn  neVter 
aright  for  themselves,  who  end  in  themselves. 
He  who  here  thus  weeps  for  others,  made  his 
bed  to  swim  with  those  rivers  for  his  own  sin. 
Psalm  vi.  6.  (2.)  As  a  man  must  know  this 
law,  so  he  must  be  inwardly  convinced  and 
persuaded  of  the  divinity  of  ii,  that  it  is  God's 
law.  (3.)  He  must  have  a  deep  apprehension 
of  the  majesty  and  authority  of  the  Lawgiver, 
to  work  reverence,  and  of  his  goodness,  to  be- 
get love;  and  the  due  mixture  of  these  two 
will  both  strongly  command  and  sweeten 
obedience  to  his  commandments.  And  this 
obedience,  though  it  be  not  an  absolute  and 
perfect  fulfilling  of  any  one  of  the  command- 
ments, yet  it  has  a  respect  to  them  all,  as  this 
Psalm  hath  it  (ver.  6),  which  is  (so  to  speak) 
an  imperfect  kind  of  perfection.  And  from 
this  respect  to  the  law,  which  is  the  observ- 
ing of  it,  v/ill  flow  that  other  condition,  of 
grieving  when  we  break  it. 

And  beside  all  other  things  that  should 
make  a  Christian's  own  sin  grievous  to  him, 
there  is  one  thing  can  not  but  move  him 
much,  the  c  msideration  of  the  sjrrow  aro 


Psalm  cxix.  13o.] 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS  FRAGRANT, 


475 


sufferings  of  Christ.  To  view  the  bleedings 
of  the  Lord  Jesus,  cau  not  but  pierce  a  be- 
lieving s.juI,  and  make  it  say,  ''Did  my  Re- 
deemer shed  his  blood  for  my  sins,  and  shall 
not  I  myself  shed  tears  for  them?"  I  know 
the  natural  cousiilution  of  some  denies  them 
tears  ;  but  if  it  da  so  to  any,  make  up  that 
warn  with  a  sense  of  inward  arief,  and  it  is 
well  enough.  The  eye  of  God  can  discern 
that  as  well  as  the  other.  But  truly,  where 
men  have  tears  for  lighter  causes  (lor  all 
other  causes  are  lighter),  and  none  for  this, 
they  feel  not  yet  the  weight  of  sin  ;  except 
that  want  be  through  the  deepness  of  sorrow, 
which  sometimes  will  stop  the  current  of 
tears,  though  it  used  to  run  at  other  times: 
as  they  say,  Cura  leves  loquuntur,  irnrentes 
stupenl.  But  this  is  a  rare  and  a  happy  im- 
pediment. 

And  to  answer  another  doubt :  If  you  find 
sometimes  worldly  griefs  stir  you  more  vio- 
lently, yet,  let  this  godly  sorrow  affect  you 
more  constantly,  that  it  may  have  the  advan- 
tage in  continuance,  if  it  fall  short  in  the  de- 
gree. 

But  as  this  grief  must  begin  at  home,  as 
they  say  of  charity,  it  must  not  be  so  selfish 
as  to  rest  there.  And  truly,  where  it  comes 
in  that  order,  it  may  be  some  way  a  stronger 
evidence  of  sincerity  to  mourn  for  others' sins 
than  to  mourn  for  our  own  ;  for  there  seems 
to  be  more  of  God  in  it,  because  there  is  less 
in  it  of  ourselves,  and  of  our  own  particular 
interest. 

Now  you  will  possibly  think  it  but  an  un- 
pleasant duly  that  you  have  heard  urged  all 
this  while  :  but  look  forward,  and  consider 
the  issue  of  it.  That  which  Christ  speaks  in 
particular  to  his  disciples,  is  generally  true 
of  all  Christians:  Ye  skull  weep  and  lament, 
but  the  luorld  xhall  rejoice  ;  ye  shall  be  sor- 
rowful, hut  your  sorrow  shall  he  turned  (or 
made)  into  joy.  John  xvi.  20.  'I'he  water  of 
those  tears  shall  be  turned  into  wine  of  con- 
solation. The  irafTic  of  these  rivers  is  gain- 
ful ;  thev  export  grief,  and  import  joy.  When 
the,-e  tears  arc  called  seed,  the  harvest-crop 
is  c;ill  ;.j  jot/.  Psalm  cxxvi.  o.  They  thai  sow 
in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy.  They  are  here 
called  rivers,  and  they  are  answered  with  a 
river,  for  which  ihey  sh:ill  in  the  end  be  per- 
fectly exchaiu'ed.  Psalm  Ixxxvi.  8 :  Thou 
shall  make  llwia  drink  of  the  rivers  of  thy 
pleasures.  And  Rev.  vii.  17 :  The  Lamb  shall 
feed  them  and  lead  them  unto  living  foun- 
tains of  waters.  Here  they  run  down  the 
eyes,  and  water  the  cheeks',  and  there  you 
read  that  God  shall  wipe  them  away  from 
their  eyes.  Who  would  not  be  content  to 
weep,  to  have  God  wipe  away  their  tears 
with  his  own  hand  ?  He  ambitious,  then,  to 
be  found  among  the  mourners  in  Sion  ;  and 
when  ye  remove  from  this  valley  of  tears, 
God  shall  at  once  fully  wipe  away  all  the 
stain  of  sin  from  -:mr  souls,  and  all  tears  for 
It  from  your  eyes.  And  as  he  shall  wipe 
away  the  tears  wi'h  the  one  hand,  he  will 


set  the  crown  upon  your  heads  with  'he 
other. 


SERMON  VII]. 

THE  NAME  OF  JESUS  FRAGRANT. 

Preached  after  tlie  administration  of  the  Lord's 
Supper. 

Blessed  are  they  that  dwell  in  thy  house, 
saith  the  psalmist  ;  and  he  adds  this  reason. 
They  will  be  still  praisinq  thee.  There  is  in- 
deed ahvays  in  God's  house,  both  fit  opporlu- 
nity  and  plentiful  matter  of  his  praises.  But 
the  greater  number  of  those  who  frequent  his 
house,  do  not  dwell  in  it ;  their  delight  and 
affection  is  not  there.  Therefore  they  can  not 
praise  him  ;  they  come  in  as  strangers,  and 
have  no  skill  in  the  songs  of  praise.  Yea, 
and  the  very  children  of  the  family,  who  wor- 
ship in  spirit  and  in  truth,  find  their  instru- 
ments (their  hearts)  very  often  quite  out  of 
tune  for  praises,  and  sometimes  most  of  all 
when  praises  are  requisite.  They  find  still 
such  abundant  cause  of  complaint  in  them- 
selves, weighing  down  their  spirits,  that  they 
can  hardly  at  all  wind  them  up  to  magnify 
that  God  whose  mercy  is  far  more  abundant. 
If  we  would  lake  a  reflex  view,  and  look  back 
upon  our  carriage  this  day  in  the  presence  of 
our  God,  who  is  there  among  us  who  would 
not  find  much  work  for  sad  thoughts  ?  Would 
not  one  find  that  he  had  a  hard  and  stony 
heart,  another  a  light,  inconstant,  wandering 
heart  to  complain  of",  a  third  an  unbelieving 
heart,  and  some  all  of  these  ?  And  they  (if 
such  there  be)  who  have  boih  deeply  sor- 
rowed and  been  largely  comforted,  will  pos- 
sibly, for  all  that,  upon  former  sad  experience, 
be  full  of  fears  and  jealousies  ihat  this  sweet 
temper  will  not  be  of  long  continuance  :  that 
before  long,  the  world,  or  some  lust,  will  find 
or  make  a  way  to  creep  in,  and  banish  those 
heavenly  thoughts,  and  trouble  that  peace 
and  joy  which  accompanies  them.  Yet  not- 
withstanding all  these  causes  of  grief  or  fear, 
our  causes  of  praise  are  both  more  and  great- 
er. And  it  is  no  reason  that  the  sense  of  our 
own  evil  should  prejudge  that  acknowledg- 
ment of  God's  goodness  ;  yea,  rather  it  should 
stir  us  up  to  extol  it  so  much  the  more.  Cease 
not  to  bemoan  the  evils  of  your  own  hearts  ; 
but  withal  forget  not  to  magnify  the  riches  of 
his  grace,  who  hath  given  himself  for  you, 
and  to  you.  These  two  will  not  hinder  one 
another,  but  the  due  intermixture  of  them 
will  make  a  very  good  harmony.  And  the 
fruit  of  them  will  be  this,  you  shall  have  still 
more  cause  to  praise,  and  less  to  complain. 
When  the  Lord  shall  find  you  humble  ac- 
knowledgers of  his  grace,  he  will  delight  to 
bestow  more  grace  upon  you,  and  will  sub- 
due those  inicjuities  for  you,  which  you  can 
not.  And  though  he  is  pleased  to  do  it  but 
gradually,  by  little  and  little,  yet,  in  the  end, 


476 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS  FK  AGRA  NT. 


[Skr.  Vlll. 


the  cdnqucst  shall  be  full ;  and  then,  he  who 
is  llie  author  and  the  Jinixhcr  of  your  fait li, 
tiiough  it  is  liis  tnvn  work,  yet,  because  it  is 
done  in  you.  he  shall  account  the  victory 
yours,  as  obtained  by  you,  and  give  you,  as 
conquerors,  ihe  crown  of  glory.  To  him  that 
oi-crcoinct/i,  sailh  he,  will  I  give  to  sit  ivitli 
me  in  inij  throne.  Rev.  iii.  21. 

There  is  nothing  here,  but  from  free  grace. 
The  courage  and  strength  to  fight  in  this  spir- 
itual warfare,  tlie  victory  by  fighting,  and  the 
crown  by  victory,  flow  all  from  that  fountain. 
In  all  these  things  ive  are  more  than  comjuer- 
ors,  saith  the  apostle — but  how? — through 
him  that  loved  us.  Therefore,  if  we  desire  to 
be  such,  let  us  humble  ourselves  before  the 
throne  of  grace,  entreating  both  for  grace  and 
glory  in  the  name  of  Christ  our  Mediator. 

Cant.  i.  3. 

Because  of  the  savor  of  thy  good  ointments,  thy 
name  is  as  ointment  poured  forth,  therefore  do  the 
virgins  love  thee. 

The  natural  workings  and  desires  of  things 
are  agreeable  to  their  being.  The  beasts,  ac- 
cording to  their  sensitive  life,  seek  those  things 
that  tend  to  the  good  and  preservation  of  that 
life,  and  affect  nothing  higher  than  those,  and 
they  are  satisfied.  Man  (except  such  men  as 
are  in  the  lowest  stage,  and  border  upon  the 
beasts)  finds  nature,  even  corrupt  nature, 
raising  him  to  higher  defires  and  designs. 
And  yet,  of  the  best  of  them,  the  apostle's 
maxim  holds  true.  They  that  are  after  the 
fesh  mtnd  the  things  of  the  flesh  ;  and  yet, 
he  subjoins  the  excellency  of  some  men  be- 
yond the  best  naturalist,  They  that  are  after 
the  Spirit,  the  things  of  the  Sp/rit.  Rom.  viii. 
5.  They  can  not  be  confined  to  things  natu- 
ral, but  are  strongly  moved  toward  spiritual 
blessings,  and  toward  Christ  the  sum  of  them. 
And  having  once  tasted  of  his  sweetness,  they 
can  say,  Because  of  the  savor  of  thy  good 
ointments,  thy  name  is  as  ointment  poured 
forth. 

They  that  are  elevated  to  a  supernatural 
being  can  admit  nothing  into  competition 
with  nis  love:  and  this  it  is  that  lies  under 
these  words.  Because  of  the  savor  of  thy  good 
ointments,  Sec. 

Numbers  have  promiscuously  been  his 
guests  at  this  time,  and  the  greatest  number 
think  they  came  to  good  purpose.  But  know, 
•hat  you  are  so  far  from  partaking  of  Christ 
in  the  sacrament,  that  you  have  not  so  much 
as  smelt  his  perfumes,  if  you  be  not  strongly 
taken  with  his  love.  Great  are  the  praises, 
and  many  the  duties  you  owe  him  for  so  rich 
favors;  and  therefore,  show  yc.r  good  will, 
and  endeavor  some  payment.  But  know,  that 
none  of  them  are  current,  except  they  be 
stamjjed  with  /ore.  If  you  love  not,  you  do 
nothing  ;  all  your  labors  and  services  without 
It,  are  as  so  many  ciphers,  they  amount  to 
just  nothing.  And  with  it,  the  meanest  of 
them  will  find  acceptance.  j 


You  have  briefly  in  the  words,  Christ's  love- 
liness and  //((•  Christian''s  lore,  the  former  the 
cause  of  the  latter  ;  both  couched  under  bor- 
rowed  terms,  according  to  the  whole  strain 
of  this  allegtjrical  song,  on  which  the  true  ex- 
perimental knowledge  of  this  Divine  love  is 
the  best  commentary. 

In  all  love,  three  things  are  necessary  ,  (1.) 
.Some  goodness  in  the  object,  cither  true  tnd 
real,  or  apjiareiit  and  seeming  to  be  so  ;  for 
the  soul,  be  it  never  so  evil,  can  affect  noth- 
ing but  what  it  takes  some  wav  to  be  good. 
(2.)  There  must  be  a  knowledge  of  that 
goodness  :  for  the  most  excellent  things,  if  al- 
together unknown,  affect  not.  (3.)  There 
must  be  a  suitableness  or  agreement  of'  that 
good  thing  with  the  nature  of  those  who 
should  affect  it ;  otherwise,  indeed,  how  good 
soever  it  is,  it  is  not  good  to  them. 

Now  all  these  we  have  clearly  in  this  love. 
I.  The  goodness,  the  excellency  of  Christ  e\- 
pvessed  by  precious  ointments.  II.  The  man- 
ifestation and  making  of  it  known,  signified 
by  the  pouring  forth  of  his  name.  III.  His 
fitness  and  congruity  with  them  who  are  here 
mentioned  under  this  denomination,  virgins  ; 
such  as  have  the  senses  of  their  souls  not 
stopped  with  the  pollutions  of  the  world,  but 
pure  and  active,  and  therefore,  as  the  apostle 
speaks,  Heb.  v.  14,  exercised  to  discern  sood 
and  evil.  These  three  requisites,  thus  hap- 
pily met,  must  needs  produce  love:  There- 
fore the  virgins  love  thee. 

I.  The  excellency  of  the  object :  Because  of 
the  savor  of  thy  good  ointments.  How  true 
is  the  apostle's  word,  when  he  calls  Christ 
the  believer's  All  things  .'  And  that  radical 
grace  of  faith,  because  it  apprehends  Christ, 
hath  a  kind  of  universality  ;  and  it  is  reasona- 
ble, too,  it  alone  being  to  the  soul  what  all 
the  five  senses  are  to  the  body.  It  is  the  eye, 
and  the  mouth  ;  a  wonderful  eye,  it  sees  him 
toho  is  invisible,  Heb.  xi.  27 ;  the  mouth,  it 
tastes  that  the  Lord  is  gracious,  1  Peter  ii.  3. 
Yea,  take  these  two  both  together  in  one 
place.  Psalm  xxxiv.  8:0.'  taste  and  see  that 
the  Lord  is  good.  It  is  the  soul's  ear  ;  for 
what  else  is  meant,  when  it  is  said.  He  that 
hath  an  ear  to  hear,  let  him  hear  ?  And  was 
it  not  that  touch  which  Christ  took  special 
notice  of,  and  with  good  reason  distinguished 
it  from  the  common  touch  of  the  multitude 
that  was  crowding  about  him  ?  That  touch 
alone  draws  virtue  from  him  :  Some  one  hath 
touched  me,  for  there  is  virtue  gone  out  of 
me.  And  lastly,  as  it  is  all  those  other  senses, 
and  Christ  is  its  object  in  reference  to  them 
all,  so  here,  in  its  smelling,  it  finds  the  savor 
of  his  fragrant  graces,  and  by  that  works 
love  :  Because  of  the  savor  of  thy  precious 
ointments. 

What  strange  odds  is  there  between  the 
opinion  of  Christ's  spouse,  and  that  of  the 
world  who  know  him  not  !  They  wonder 
what  she  sees  in  him  desirable  :  she  wonders 
that  they  are  not  all  ravished  with  his  excel- 
lencies.   They  prefer  the  basest  vanities  ia 


Cant.  i.  3.] 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS  FRAGRANT 


477 


the  wirld  bofore  him:  she  finds  the  choicest 
and  richest  things  in  the  world  too  mean  to 
resemble  the  smallest  part  of  his  worth.  See 
in  this  So/iir,  how  busily  and  skilfully  she 
goes  to  all  the  creatures,  and  crops  the  rarest 
pieces  in  nature  and  art  to  set  forth  her  well- 
beloved,  and  seems  to  find  them  all  too  poor 
for  her  purpose.  One  while  she  extols  him 
above  all  things  beautiful  and  pleasant  to  the 
eye  ;  another  while,  above  things  delectable 
to  the  taste,  as  in  the  former  verse,  Thi/  loves 
are  better  than  wine ;  and  here  she  prefers 
the  perfume  of  his  graces  to  the  most  precious 
ointments. 

When  a  natural  eye  looks  upon  the  sacra- 
ment, to  wit,  of  the  Lord's  supper,  it  finds  it 
a  bare  and  mean  kind  of  ceremony.  Take 
heed  there  be  not  many  of  you  that  come  to 
it,  and  partake  of  it  with  others,  who  prize  it 
little,  have  but  low  conceits  of  it,  and  do  in- 
deed find  as  little  in  it  as  you  look  for.  But 
oh,  what  precious  consolation  and  grace  doth 
a  believer  meet  with  at  this  banquet !  How 
richly  is  the  table  furnished  to  his  eye! 
What  plentiful  varieties  employ  his  hand 
and  taste,  what  abundance  of  rare  dainties ! 
Yet,  there  is  nothing  but  One  here  ;  but  that 
One  is  all  things  to  the  believing  soul.  It 
finds  hia  love  is  sweeter  than  the  richest  wine 
to  the  tas;e,  or  best  odors  to  the  smell ;  and 
that  delightful  word  of  his,  Thy  sins  are  for- 
given thee,  is  the  only  music  to  a  distressed 
conscience. 

Thy  '^ond  ointments.  The  holy  ointment 
of  the  sanctuary,  under  the  law,  was  com- 
posed according  to  God's  own  prescription. 
See  Exod.  xxx.  25.  And  they  were  straightly 
forbid  to  imitate  it,  or  make  any  like  it,  to 
signify  the  singular  holiness,  the  matchless 
w  rth  of  the  anointing  oil  of  gladness,  where- 
wicn  our  high  priest,  the  Lord  Jesus  was 
anointed  above  his  fellows.  And  in  this  he  is 
incomparable,  that  his  ointment  he  hath  not 
from  without.  It  was  his  own  Divine  nature 
th^i  perfumed  his  manhood  with  these  pre- 
cious oinune'^ts.  God  and  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  are  said  to  have  anointed  him.  Psalm 
xlv.  7  :  Thou  lovest  righteousness  and  hatest 
wickedness ;  therefore  God,  th)/  God,  hath 
anointed  thee  with  the  oil  of  gladness  above 
thy  fellows.  And  Isa.  Ixi.  1  :  The  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  God  is  upon  me,  because  the  Lord 
halh  anoitited  me  to  preach  s^ond  tidinirs  unto 
the  meek.  But  know,  that  that  Spirit  and  the 
Father  are  one  in  essence  with  the  eternal 
Son.  In  that  mystical  song  much  like  to 
this,  the  xlvlh  Psalm,  it  is  said  (ver.  8)  his 
garments  smell  of  myrrh  and  aloes  and  Cas- 
sia [as  he  comes  forth]  out  ci/'[his]  ivory -pal- 
aces. When  he  came  down  from  his  glorious 
court  above,  to  dwell  among  men,  he  appar- 
elled himself  like  them  :  he  was  clothed  with 
human  flesh.  But  yet,  that  vesture  was  so 
transcendently  enriched  with  all  graces,  as 
with  costly  perfumes,  that  men  might  easily 
know  there  was  more  under  them  than  a 
mere  man    Yea,  even  in  that  low  estate, did 


'  such  beams  of  his  glory  shine  through,  that 
all  whose  eyes  were  open  did  clearly  heboid 
them,  and  know  him  to  be  no  less  than  the 

'  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God,  by  this,  that 
he  was  so  full  of  grace  and  truth.  John  i.  14. 
And  these  are,  in  a  word,  the  precious  oint- 
ments whose  delightful  smell  is  here  com- 
mended. 

Now,  to  enumerate  and  describe  these  gra- 
ces, what  tongue  of  men,  yea,  or  of  angels, 
were  suflBcient  ?  What  other  is  the  main 
subject  of  the  whole  Scriptures  ?  What  mean 
all  the  figures  and  ceremonies  of  the  law,  the 
costly  furniture  and  ornaments  of  the  temple, 
the  right  vestments  of  the  High  Priest,  that 
fine  linen,  that  silk  and  gold,  those  gems  and 
precious  stones  ?  Was  any  one  of  them, 
were  they  all  any  other  than  shadows  and 
dim  resemblances  of  the  matchless  perfec- 
tions of  Jesus  Christ?  It  is  strange  that 
Christians  have  so  low  conceits  of  their  high 
Redeemer  !  What  is  the  gospel,  but  a  more 
clear  and  plentiful  pouring  forth  of  those 
ointments  ?  What  was  the  great  labor  and 
business  of  the  holy  apostles,  but  the  diffu- 
sing of  Christ's  graces  through  the  world  ? 
I  determined  to  know  nothing  among  you, 
save  Christ,  and  him  crucified,  says  St.  Paul 
to  his  Corinthians.  What  are  that  other  sac- 
rament and  this,  but  coverts  under  which 
Christ  conveys  himself  and  his  grace.s  to  the 
believing  soul,  while  the  prol'ane  and  slight- 
hearted  receivers  are  sent  away  with  empty 
elements?  Thus  you  see  how  ample  a  sub- 
ject these  graces  are  in  the  general.  And 
truly,  the  consideration  of  anyone  particular 
of  them  might  be  the  employment  of  many 
hours.  Would  you  hear  of  the  wisdom  of 
Christ  ?  Look  what  the  apostle  says  of  it, 
Col.  ii.  3  :  In  him  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of 
wisdomand knowledge.  Not  somedropsof  wis- 
dom, no,  nor  streams,  but  a  fountain.  Not  one 
treasure,  but  treasures,  many  treasures,  yea, 
all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  ; 
yet,  not  obvious  to  every  eye,  but,  as  treasures 
are,  hid.  The  children  of  wisdom,  who  are  the 
world's  fools,  have  some  knowledge  of  this 
wisdom,  and  draw  from  it  for  their  own  use, 
but  to  sound  the  depih  of  it,  who  can  be  able  ' 

No  less  admirable  is  his  holiness.  He  is 
both  the  immaculate  Lamb,  and  the  undefiled 
Sacrifice.  Such  a  high  priest  became  us. 
Heb.  vii.  26.  Became  ms.'  Yes,  holy,  harm- 
less and  undefiled:  the  more  we  were  defiled 
with  sin,  the  more  stood  we  in  need  of  an  un- 
defiled and  spotl  ess  Hiirh  Priest.  Jt  was  as 
expedient  that  he  should  be  unlike  us  in  that, 
as  that  he  should  be  like  us  in  all  other 
things.  Therefore,  as  for  the  legal  priest- 
hood there  was  a  holy  consecrating  oil,  so 
this  immortal  High  Priest  was  anointed  with 
most  entire  and  complete  holiness.  And  this 
perfect  holiness  of  his,  is  set  forth  as  myrrh, 
the  best  ointments  and  spices — myrrh  which 
is  of  a  virtue  preservative  from  corruption. 
He  was  not  only  of  excellent  smell,  while  he 
lived  among  men,  but  this  myrrh  did  like* 


478 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS  FRAGRANT. 


ISer,  VIIL 


wise  pieprrve  nnd  exempt  him  from  contract- 
ing any  corruption  or  pollution,  by  tlif  had 
air  of  sinful  company  ;  so  thai  he  conversed 
with  sinners,  that  he  misrht  canvert  them, 
without  any  danger  of  infection. 

And  as  le  was  thus  extraordinarily  anoint- 
ed with  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  holiness,  so 
likewise  with  the  spirit  of  mrehness  ;  there- 
fore he  is  called  TJic  Lamb  of  God,  thai  la- 
keth  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  His  voice 
was  not  heard  in  the  streets.  Matt.  xii.  19. 
And  take  in  that  other  grace  which  he  him- 
self mentions  together  with  his  meekness,  as 
being  near  in  nature  to  it,  hvnuUty:  Learn 
of  me,  for  J  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart. 
IVIatt.  XI.  29.  Indeed,  humility  is  an  odorif- 
erous grace  :  it  is  a  <^racin(![  grace,  it  adds  a 
kind  of  sweetness  and  lustre  to  all  other  gra- 
ces;  yea,  it  serves  singularly  as  a  character 
for  the  trial  of  the  truth  of  all  other  graces. 
As  balsam,  which  is  the  chief  of  precious 
ointments,  us{>d  to  be  tried  ;  that  is  the  truest 
and  best,  which,  put  into  any  liquor,  goes  to 
the  bottom:  that  but  slight,  which  swims 
above:  so  those  graces  are  most  upright, 
that  are  accompanied  with  most  humility. 
And  that  this  may  be  out  of  doubt,  you  know 
that  .lesus  Christ  (of  whom  we  now  speak), 
as  he  had  most  grace,,  so  was  he  most  exem- 
plary in  humility.  And  certainly,  the  sweet 
smell  of  this  good  ointment  did  fill  the  whole 
house,  when  he  washed  his  disciples'  feet  : 
as  is  said  of  the  ointment  that  Mary  poured 
upon  his  feet,  in  the  foregoing  chapter. 
Tohn  xii.  3. 

Among  many  other  of  his  gracious  quali- 
ties tliat  might  be  mentioned,  there  is  one  we 
can  not  but  lake  particular  notice  of,  his /ore; 
the  rather,  because  the  fragrant  smell  of  his 
graces  is  here  said  to  beget  love.  Now  you 
know  that  one  of  the  strongest  attractives  of 
love,  is  love.  "Ep-ii  tpwra  n'xrti :  Magncs  am- 
oris  amor.  What  made  him  empty  himself 
of  his  glory,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  but  be- 
cause he  was  full  of  love?  What  made  him 
take  on  the  form  o*"  a  servant,  suffer  heat, 
and  cold,  and  hunger,  and  poverty,  but  love? 
What  other  was  it  made  him  digest  the  per- 
secutions, revilings,  and  the  contradiction  of 
sinners,  but  love?  But  the  great  wonder  of 
his  love  is  this,  he  died  to  become  our  life. 
Who  hath  loved  me,  and  given  himself  for  me, 
says  the  great  apostle  St.  Paul.  Gal.  ii.  20. 
And,  Hereby  perceive  we  the  love  of  God,  be- 
cause he  laid  dortm  his  life  for  us,  says  the 
beloved  apostle  St.  .Tohn.  1  John  iii.  16.  Was 
it  the  naili  that  held  him  fast  to  the  cross, 
when  they  tauntingly  hade  him  come  down  ? 
No;  it  was  his  love,  that  was  stronger  than 
death.  But  all  this  was  noihing  to  the  angry 
countenance  ot  his  Fatl  er,  nor  would  he  ever 
have  ventured  upon  that,  if  infinite  love  had 
not  persuaded  him.  No  wonder  if  the  apos- 
tle call  it  a  love  that  passeth  knowledge. 
That  you  may  know,  saith  he,  the  love  of 
Christ  y^hirji  passeth  knowled '^e.  Eph.  iii.  19. 
Know  it  we  may,  and  should,  but  we  must 


know  withal,  that  we  can  not  know  it  fully. 
And  this  is  our  comfort,  that  it  is  greater 
than  we  can  comprehend  :  for  if  it  were  not 
so,  it  would  be  less  than  we  stand  in  need  of. 
So  much  of  his  love  we  may  understand,  as 
may  abundantly  inflame  our  iuarls  wiih  love 
to  him.  For  :his  purpose  hath  he  revealed  it, 
and  made  his  name  like  an  orntment  poured 
out.    And  that  is  the  second  .hing. 

II.  lUs  name.  That  is,  the  report  and 
manifestation  of  his  excellencies.  And  if  you 
will  take  it  properly  of  his  name,  Jesus,  and 
Christ,  or  the  Messiah,  it  is  true  of  them,  for 
they  are  significative  of  these  excellencies. 
Ask  an  afflicted  conscience,  it'  Jesus,  that  is,  a 
Saiuor,  be  not  a  precious  word  that  hath  a 
sovereign  value,  both  a  refreshing  smell  and 
a  healing  virtue.  The  hammer  of  the  law 
may  break  a  stony  heart  in  pieces,  biU  it  is 
only  the  blood  of  Jesus  that  can  soften  it. 
And  where  it  is  eflcctually  poured,  either 
upon  a  wounded  soul,  it  heals  it,  or  upon  a 
hard  heart,  it  mollifies  it.  For  that  oiher 
name,  Christ,  Ajrell  may  it  be  called  ati  oint- 
,  ment  poured  out,  for  itsignilies  his  anointing. 
And  that  the  sweet  savor  of  this  name  may 
affect,  read  but  that  one  passage,  Isa.  Ixi.  1. 
The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  God  is  upon  me,  be- 
cause the  Lord  hath  anointed  me  to  preach 
j  ffood  tidings  unto  the  meek,  &c.  What  ines- 
:  timable  riches  of  consolation  are  there  in 
'  each  of  those  effects  to  which  Christ  was 
anointed !  And  yet,  we  find  not  a  word 
among  them  all  for  a  proud,  stifi'-necked  sin- 
ner. Here  are  good  tidings,  but  it  is  to  the 
meek  ;  comfortable  binding  up,  but  it  is  for 
the  broken-hearted  ;  liberty,  but  it  is  for  cap- 
tives and  prisoners  groaning  under  their 
chains,  and  desirous  to  be  delivered  ;  not  for 
such  as  delight  in  their  bondage.  There  is 
oil  of  joy  and  garments  of  praise,  but  they 
are  provided  for  mourning,  dejected  spirit.^ 
that  need  them  ;  not  for  the  impenitent.  ^  On 
the  contrary,  there  is  a  terrible  word  inter- 
jected in  the  midst  of  these  promises.  The 
,  day  of  vengeance  of  our  God;  and  that  is 
the  portion  of  Christ's  enemies,  and  such  are 
all  incorrigible  sinners. 

Thus  it  is,  at  the  same  banquet  from  which 
you  come,  one  may  be  filled  with  spiritual 
joy,  and  the  very  person  that  sits  next  may 
be  filled  with  a  secret  curse,  and  return  more 
miserable  than  he  came.  Bui  let  tlie  discon- 
solate, lamenting  sinner  lift  u[)  his  head,  and 
behold  Christ,  tlie  Son  of  God,  anointed  a 
prophet  to  preach  salvation  and  liberty  to 
sucn,  a  priest  to  purchase  it,  and  a  king,  to 
give  it. 

Now,  the  pouring  out  of  his  name  is  divers. 
Before  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  bis  name 
was  poured  out  in  prophecies  and  promises, 
in  types  and  legal  ceremonies  ;  but  more  fully 
when  the  Word  was  made  Jlesh.  Then  an- 
gels, and  holy  men,  yea,  and  women,  spake 
clearly  of  him.  What  was  his  Father's  voice 
at  his  baptism,  the  Holy  Ghost's  descending 
what  was  his  own  preaching,  and  miracles, 


Cant.  i.  3-1 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS  FRAGKANT. 


479 


and  conversation,  out  11  the  pouring  forth  of 
his  precious  name  ?  And  in  his  sufferings 
and  death,  what  thmc  you?  Was  not  his 
name  then  pourei  for  h,  yea,  his  blood  with 
it  ?  Yes,  truly  :  bein?  extended  on  the  cross, 
and  his  body  pierced  in  divers  places,  his  pre- 
cious ointments  were  shed  abroad  toward  all 
the  quarters  of  the  world  :  their  smell  reach- 
ed both  heaven  and  the  visible  earth.  God 
the  Father,  as  he  was  said  to  do  in  Noah's 
sacrifice,  did  much  more  smell  in  his  sacri- 
fice, a  savor  of  rest,  appeasing  his  wrath  ; 
and  all  believers  a  savor  of  peace,  a  quieting 
of  their  consciences.  And  as  aromatic  spi- 
ces, when  they  are  pounded  out  and  beaten, 
send  forth  their  sweet  smells  most  liberally, 
so,  in  these  his  stifferings,  did  the  obedience, 
patience,  ?Lnd  love,  and  all  the  graces,  and  the 
name  of  our  Savior,  most  clearly  manifest 
themselves  to  the  world.  After  he  was  dead, 
they  embalmed  his  body,  but  they  knew  not 
that  his  own  virtue  would  do  more  than  all 
the  ointments  and  spices  in  ihe  world  could 
do,  not  only  by  preserving  his  body  from  cor- 
ruption, but  by  raising  it  the  third  day.  And 
truly,  after  his  resurrection,  his  own  disciples 
knew  his  name  better  than  ever  before  ;  and 
yet  more  fully  after  his  ascension,  when  the 
Holy  Ghost  came  down  upon  them  ;  which 
was  poured  from  heaven  on  them  for  this 
very  end  :  that  they  might  pour  forth  Christ's 
name  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Acts  ii.  8.  And 
they  did  so  carrying  this  precious  treasure  in 
eartliTn  resseh,  as  that  elect  vessel  St.  Paul 
speaks,  1  Cor.  iv.  7.  And  ever  since,  God 
hath  continued  the  pouring  fjrth  of  his  name, 
by  the  ministry  and  i)reaching  of  the  gospel. 
It  is  true,  there^are  too  many  of  those  that 
are  emploved  in  this  work,  who  seek  thenj- 
seives,  and  their  own  ends,  rather  than  his 
glory  wiiom  they  preach.  And  they  that  are 
more  ui)right,  the  very  best  of  them  are  sin- 
ful men.  But  how  mean  and  unworthy  so- 
ev'e#  they  be,  despise  not  the  gospel.  Let 
the  sweet  name  which  they  pour  forth,  pre- 
vail for  itself,  that  so  you  may  reverence  and 
love  it,  if  you  would  have  salvation  by  it  ; 
and  there  is  no  other  name  under  heaven,  by 
which  that  can  be  obtained. 

As  this  name  is  poured  forth  in  the  gospel 
preached,  so,  in  the  sacraments  annexed  to  it ; 
and  pariicfilarly  in  this,  when  the  bread  is 
broken,  and  the  wine  poured  out.  And  was 
not  this  the  earnest  desire  of  the  receivers  of 
it  this  day — it  should  have  been — to  have  our 
share  in  it,  for  the  refresnnient  and  curing  of 
our  souls?  Nor  Siiall  any  that  came  thus, 
be  disappointed.  And  if  not  immediately, 
yet,  most  cerlainlv,  and  that  in  due  time, 
thev  shall  find  the  sweet. fruits  of  it. 

You  have  heard  many  ways  how  the  name 
of  Christ  is  poured  out,  yet  there  is  one  more, 
without  which  all  tlie  rest  are  ineffectual  :  it 
is  this,  the  secret  and  powerful  working  of 
the  Spirit  of  God  \n  'nesnul.  The  ordinances 
and  means  of  salvation  do  indeed  pour  forth 
the  name  of  Christ  round  about  a  man,  but 


:  till  the  Spirit  concur  with  them,  not  one  drop 
falls  within  the  soul.    And  is  he  not  so  much 
the  more  miserable,  who  hears  much  of  Christ, 
and  partakes  nothing  of  him  ^  Yes,  surely.  A 
I  man  may  have  much  common  knowledge  of 
I  Christ,  and  may  understand  well,  yea,  may 
preach  well,  concernine:  his  worth  and  graces, 
and  yet  not  love  him.    But  there  is  a  particu- 
lar knowledge  of  him  t>y  tne  infusion  of  the 
Spirit,  and  where  the  smallest  measure  of 
this  is,  it  presently  wins  the  affection.  There 
is  a  shedding  abroad  of  the  love  of  God  in  our 
hearts,  that  the  apostles  speaks  of,  Eom.  v.  5  ; 
and  this  draws  us  after  him  :  for  our  love  to 
I  God  is  nothing  else  but  the  reflection  of  his 
I  love  to  us.    So  then,  though  many  hear  of 
1  Christ,  yet,  because  there  are  but  few  that 
!  have  this  special  knowledge  of  him,  there- 
1  fore  it  is,  that  so  few  do  truly  esteem  him  and 
I  love  him  ;  and  they  are  such  as  are  here  call- 
I  ed  Virgins:  and  that  is  the  third  thing. 

III.  The  correspondence  in  the  character 
of  those  who  love  Christ:  The  viro^ins. 
Similitude  and  conformity  A)f  nature  beset 
friendship:  pure  affections  delight  in  a  pure 
object,  and  it  makes  them  such.  For  the 
truth  is,  Christ  doth  not  find  men  naturally 
suitable  to  himself,  but  as  he  took  on  our  na- 
ture, so  he  washeth  away  the  sinfulness  of 
our  nature,  which  he  took  not  on,  and  makes 
us  that  way  conformable  to  his  nature.  And 
they  who  are  so  changed,  though  they  were 
formerly  lovers  of  sin,  yet,  by  conversion, 
which  is  called  regeneration,  they  are  bora 
again,  and  so  become  not  only  chaste,  but 
[  even  virgins,  spiritually.  For  by  virgins, 
I  here,  are  not  meant  such  as  Romish  votaries 
fancy  them  to  be:  no,  this  virginity  may  well 
consist  with  any  lawful  state  of  life. 

These  virgins  are  such  as  be  truly  holy  and 
pure  in  heart  and  life,  who,  thoush  they  are 
not  perfectly  free  from  all  sin,  yet  have  affec- 
tion to  no  sin.  These  are  sinsularly  deligiu- 
ed  with  the  smell  of  Christ's  name  and  graces, 
while  the  volu|)tuous  person,  and  the  profane 
worldling,  dislike  and  despise  it !  Ualsama  sic 
suihiis,  SIC  male  nardus  olent.  The  virgins, 
they  bestow  their  affection  whole  and  entire 
upon  Christ. 

Howgros.s'y  do  you  delude  yourselves,  who 
make  your  hearts  dens  of  pride,  filthy  lust, 
malice  and  envy,  and  thousiwids  of  vanities, 
and  yet  think  to  find  a  corner  in  them  Ix)  hxlge 
Christ  too!  Truly,  y(ju  would  both  straiten 
him  in  room,  and  give  him  very  bad  neigh- 
bors. No:  they  that  think  not  a  whole  heart 
too  little  for  him,  shall  never  enjoy  him. 

The  virgins  love  thee.]  Grace  destroys  not 
the  natural  passions  of  the  soul,  hut  ccjrrects 
;  them  only,  by  destroying  their  corruption,  and 
so  they  become  not  merely  not  conirary  to 
grace,  but  are  made  the  subject  and  seat  of 
grace.  Thisof love, which is.thechie'of them, 
we  see,  it  abolishelh  not,  but  rectifies  it,  recal- 
ling it  to  its  due  (jbject,  and  turning  it  into  the 
right  channel,  by  which  it  may  empty  itself 
I  into  the  ocean  of  goodness. 


480 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS  FRAGRANT. 


[Ser.  VTII. 


And  this  love  may  well  consist  with  the 
puriiy  of  virgins  ;  yea,  it  is  this  love  that  puri- 
nes and  makes  them  such.     The  virgins  lore 
—But  wiioin  ?  Thee.  And  it  is  as  reasouahle 
a  love  as  it  is  pure  :  Therefore  they  love  Ihec,  [ 
Decause  thou  liast  made  them  in  some  meas-  j 
ure  ap()reheasive  of  thy  worth,  which  com- ; 
mauds  the  love  of  all  that  know  it  :  not  a  cold 
and  indifferent  affection,  hut  a  superlative, 
ardent  love,  far  overtopping  all  their  other; 
desires.    And  with  good  reason,  since  Christ 
aotli  ii)finitely,  and  beyond  all  comparison, 
surpass  all  other  things  desirable.    Ask  your 
own  hearts,  if  you  love  Christ  thus  :  for  if  not 
thus,  you  love  him  not  at  all.    The  Apostle 
St.  Paul's  love  was  of  this  size.  Phil.  iii.  7,  8. 
But  what  things  were  gain  to  ?ne,  those  I  count- 
ed loss  for  Christ  ;  yea,  doubtless  and  I  count 
all  things  hut  loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the 
knou'lrd  ge  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord,  for  tvhom  j 
I  have  suffered  the  loss  of  all  things,  and  do 
count  them  but  dung  that  I  may  inn  Christ.' 
This  love  will  nt)t  only  undergo  difficulties  and  | 
sufferings  for  Ofcrist  without  either  repining! 
or  fainting,  but  it  will  even  be  glad  to  meet 
with  them,  as  opportunity  is,  to  exercise  and 
testify  itself.    Hard  things  will  seem  most 
easy  for  his  sake,  and  bitter  things  exceeding 
sweet.    In  a  word,  to  him  that  loves,  scarce 
anything  is  impossible.    Love  is  the  leading 
passion  of  the  soul  :  all  the  rest  conform  them- 
selves to  it,  de.nre,  and  hope,  and  fear,  and 
joy,  and  sorrow. 

If,  then,  you  love  Christ,  the  desires  and 
breathings  of  your  soul  after  him  are  strong 
and  earnest.  If  he  withdraw  himself,  or  ap- 
pear angry,  if  either  you  see  him  not,  or  see 
him  look  discontented,  your  grief  will  be  so 
deep  that  it  can  not  be  allayed  by  any  worldly  i 
employment.  Yet,  upon  some  former  tokens 
of  his  love,  whi'^h  is  known  to  be  unchangea- 
ble, hope  will  uphold  the  soul,  till  the  beams 
of  his  grace  scaUer  the  cloud,  and  break 
through.  Though  our  Joseph  seem  strange, 
and  speak  roughly  forawliile,  he  can  not  long 
refrain  discovering-  his  affection. 

Again,  love  you  him,  unspeakable  will  be 
your  joy  when  he  smiles  upon  you.  As  great 
will  be  your  delight  in  possession,  as  your 
desire  is  in  pursuit  ;  and  wiiile  you  have  his 
presence,  it  will  be  too  hard  a  task  for  any 
affliction  to  distnay  you.  Have  you  indeed 
heard  Christ  speak  comfortably  to  you  this 
day  at  his  holy  table?  How  will  this  enable 
ihe  ?oul,aiid  arm  it  against  dangers,  and  dis- 
tracting, distrustful  fears!  Perfect  love  casleth 
nut  fear,  saith  St.  John  :  1  John  iv.  18  :  that 
IS,  ail  base  and  servile  fear  ;  but  there  is  one 
fear  that  is  in  no  heart  but  where  love  begets 
It,  fear  to  offend.  You  know  how  wary  and 
loath  men  are  naturally  to  displease  those  they 
love ;  therefore  it  is,  that  love  to  Christ,  and 
a  careful  observing  of  his  commandments,  are 
inseparable  companions.  Yea,  love  itself  is 
the  fulfilling  of  the  law,  for  it  gives  up  the 
heart  to  God,  and  consequently  the  whole 
man.    Then  there  is  no  return  of  duty  which 


your  receiving  of  Christ  calls  for  (and  wha\ 
doth  it  not  call  for)  ?  there  is  none,  I  sav,  but 
is  comprised  under  this  one  of /ore.  Do  you 
owe  him  praises  ?  Yes,  surely.  Then  love 
him  ;  that  will  stir  you  up  to  praise  him. 
You  never  knew,  but  where  much  love  was 
in  the  heart,  it  made  the  tongue  ready  and 
active  upon  all  occasions  to  praise  the  party 
loved.  Love  will  entertain  small  courtesies 
with  great  thanks;  mncli  more  where  the 
benefit  so  far  exceeds  all  possible  thankfulness. 
Ought  you  to  serve  and  obey  him  ?  Doubt- 
less:  he  hath  for  that  purpose  redeemed  you 
with  his  precious  blood.  And  truly  there  is 
no  obedience  or  service  so  full  ajid  so  cheer- 
ful, as  that  which  flows  from  love.  Should 
you  study  conformity  to  Christ,  and  labor  to 
be  like  him  ?  Yes,  for  this  is  to  walk  worthy 
of  Christ.  Then  there  is  nothing  assimilates 
to  much  as  love.  Men  delight  in  their  society 
whom  they  love,  and  by  theirsocicty  they  do 
insensibly  contract  their  customs,  and  become 
like  them.  These  Virgins  who  love  Christ 
for  his  graces,  they  love  to  converse  with 
him,  and  by  conversing  with  him,  they  re- 
ceive of  his  graces,  and  have  a  smell  of  his 
perfumes.  Not  only  do  they,  by  the  smell 
of  his  garments,  or  such  imposed  rites,  obtain 
the  blessing,  but  they  likewise  smell  like  him 
by  the  participation  of  sanctifying  grace,  of 
his  wisdom  and  holiness,  in  a  pure  and  godly 
conversation,  abstaining  from  the  impure 
lusts  and  pollutions  of  the  world  ;  so  likewise 
of  his  meekness  and  humility.  Never  think 
that  one  and  the  same  soul  can  have  much 
pride  and  much  of  Christ.  Ever,  the  more 
grace  a  man  hath,  the  mor^  sense  hath  he 
likewise  of  his  own  unworthiness,  and  God's 
free  mercy,  and  consequently  the  more  hu- 
mility. 

If  you  love  Christ,  you  can  not  choose  but 
be  like  him  in  love  to  your  brethren.  This 
is  expressly  compared  by  the  psalmist  to  the 
precious  ointment  poured  upon  Aaron's  nead, 
that  ran  down  to  the  very  shirts  of  his  gar- 
ments. Psal.  cxxxiii.  2.  Our  Head  and  High 
Priest,  the  Lord  Jesus,  hath  incomparably 
testified  his  love  to  believers,  whom  he  is 
pleased  to  call  his  brethren.  They  are  far 
from  equalling  him,  either  in  love  to  him,  or 
in  love  one  to  another,  but  they  do  imitate 
him  in  both.  This  is  his  great  command- 
ment, that  we  love  one  anot^ner,  even  as  h» 
loved  us,  which  is  expressed  both  as  a  strong 
motive  and  a  high  example.  It  is  not  possi- 
ble that  a  spirit  of  malice  and  implacable 
hatred  can  consist  with  the  love  of  Christ. 

Finally,  Should  you  he  ready  to  suffer  for 
Christ  ?  '  Yes.  Then  love  is  that  which  wiL 
enable  you  ;  and  if  you  were  inflamed  with 
this  fire  then,  though  burned  for  him,  tha 
fire  would  only  consume  your  dross,  and  be 
soon  extinguished  ;  but  this  would  endure 
for  ever. 

By  these  and  the  like  evidences,  try  wheth- 
er you  indeed  love  the  Lord  .lesus  Cnrisl. 
And  by  these  fruits,  you  who  profess  to  I'ovo 


Rom.  ■^111.  7.]  THE  SINNER  A  REBEL  AGAINST  GOD. 


481 


him,  testily  the  sincerity  of  your  love  ;  and 
be  assured,  that  if  you  be  now  found  among 
these  virgias  that  love  him,  you  shall  one 
day  be  of  the  number  of  those  virgins  that 
are  spoken  of,  Rev.  xiv.  3,  4,  who  sing  a  new 
song  before  the  throne  of  God. 

If  you  hate  the  defilements  of  the  world, 
and  be  not  polluted  with  inordinate  affection 
to  the  creature,  it  shall  never  repent  you  to 
have  made  choice  of  Christ.  He  shall  fill 
your  hearts  with  peace  and  joy  in  believing. 
W'len  you  come  to  his  house  and  table,  he 
shall  send  you  home  with  joy  and  sweet  con- 
solation, such  as  you  would  not  exchange  for 
crowns  and  sceptres.  And  after  some  few  of 
these  running  banquets  here  below,  you  shall 
eater  into  the  great  marriage-supper  of  the 
Lamb,  where  faith  shall  end  in  sight,  and 
hope  in  possession,  and  love  continue  in  per- 
petual and  full  enjoyment  ;  where  you  shall 
be  never  weary,  but  for  ever  happy  in  be- 
holding the  face  of  the  Blessed  Trinity:  to 
whom  be  glory.  Amen. 


SERMON  IX. 

THE  SINNER  A  REBEL  AGAINST  GOD. 

How  true  is  that  word  of  our  Savior,  who 
13  truth  iiself,  Witkoiit  mf.^  ye  can  do  noth- 
ing: —sever  eii.  from  me,  as  that  branch  that 
is  not  in  me.  They  who  are  altogether  out 
of  Christ,  in  spiritual  exercises  do  nothing  at 
all.  'Tis  true,  they  may  pray  and  hear  the 
word,  yea,  and  preach  it  too,  and  yet  in  so 
doing  they  do  nothing,  nothing  in  effect. 
They  have  the  matter  of  good  actions,  but 
it  is  the  internal  fprin  gives  being  to  things. 
They  are  but  a  number  of  empty  words  and 
a  dead  service  to  a  livin?  God.  For  all  our 
outward  performances  and  worship  of  the 
body  are  nothing  but  the  body  of  worship, 
and  therefore  nothing  but  a  carcass,  except 
the  Lord  Jesus  by  his  Spirit,  breathe  upon  it 
the  breath  of  life.  Yea,  the  worshipper  him- 
self is  spiritually  dead  till  he  receive  life 
from  Jesus,  and  be  quickened  by  his  Spirit. 
If  this  be  true,  then  it  will  follow  necessari- 
ly, that  where  numbers  are  met  together  (as 
here),  pretending  to  serve  and  worship  God, 
yet  he  hath  very  few  that  do  so  indeed,  the 
greatest  part  being  out  of  Christ  ;  and  such 
being  without  hirn,  they  can  do  nothing  in 
his  service. 

Romans  viii.  7. 

Because  the  cama'  mind  is  pnmity  against  Ootl  ;  for 
il  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of  tiod,  neither  indeed 
can  be. 

The  ordinary  workings  and  actions  of  crea- 
tures are  suitable  to  their  nature,  as  the  as- 
cending of  light  things,  and  the  moving  of 
heavy  things  downward  ;  so,  the  vital  and 
aensitive  actions  of  things  that  have  life  and 
61 


sense.  The  reasonable  creature,  it  is  true, 
hath  more  liberty  in  its  actions,  freely  choos- 
ing one  thing  and  rejecting  another  ;  yet  it 
can  not  be  denied,  that  in  the  acting  of  that 
liberty,  their  choice  and  refusal  follow  the 
sway  of  their  nature  and  condition.  As  the 
angels  and  glorified  souls,  their  nature  being 
perfectly  holy,  and  unalterably  such,  they 
can  not  sin,  they  can  delight  in  nothing  but 
in  obeying  and  praising  that  God,  in  the  en- 
joyment of  whom  their  happiness  consisteth, 
still  ravished  in  beholding  his  face.  The 
saints,  again,  that  have  not  yet  reached  that 
home,  and  are  but  on  their  journey,  they  are 
not  fully  defecated  and  refined  from  the  dross 
of  sin :  there  are  in  them  two  panics,  nat- 
ural corruption,  and  supernatural  grace ; 
and  these  keep  a  struggling  within  them. 
But  the  younger  shall  supplant  the  elder  : 
grace  shall  in  the  end  overcome  ;  and  in  the 
meanwhile,  though  it  be  not  free  frtjm  mix- 
ture, yet  it  is  predominant.  The  main  bent 
of  a  renewed  man,  is,  obedience  and  holi- 
ness, and  any  action  of  that  kind  he  rejcJices 
in  ;  but  the  sin  that  escapes  him,  he  can  not 
look  upon  but  with  regret  and  discontent. 
But  alas!  they  that  be  so  minded,  are  very 
thin  sown  in  the  world.  Even  in  God's  pe- 
culiar fields,  where  the  laborage  of  the  gos- 
pel is,  and  the  outward  profession  of  true  re- 
ligion unanimously  received,  yet,  the  num- 
ber of  true  converts,  spirituai-iiiinded  per- 
sons, is  very  small  ;  the  greatest  part  acting 
sin  with  delight,  and  taking  pleasure  in  un- 
righteousness, living  in  disobedience  to  God, 
as  in  their  proper  element;  and  tiie  reason 
is,  the  contrariety  of  their  nature  to  our  holy 
Lord.  The  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against 
God. 

The  mind,  ipoovriiia.  Some  render  it  the  pru- 
dence or  wisdom  of  the  flesh.  Here  you  have 
it  the  carnal  mind.  But  the  word  signifies, 
indeed,  an  act  of  the  mind,  rather  ilian  ei- 
ther the  faculty  itself,  or  the  habit  of  pru- 
dence in  it,  so  as  it  discovers  what  is  the 
frame  of  both  these,  the  minding ;  as  it  is 
used,  ver.  5,  conformably  to  that  of  Moses,, 
(xen.  vi..  Every  imagination  of  the  thou^iils- 
of  man's  heart  is  only  evil  continually.  I'he 
word  indeed  signifies  the  unse  thoughts.  So 
then,  take  the  full  latitude  of  it  liius  :  The- 
carnal  mind,  in  its  best  and  wisest  thoughts,, 
is  direct  enmity  against  God. 

Carnal  [nn  n,wKui.\  What  is  meant  by  the 
Jl':sh  here  ?  It  is  the  whole  corrupt  nature 
of  man  ;  and  that  we  may  know  by  its  oppo- 
sition to  the  Spirit:  not  to  the  spirit  or  soul 
of  a  man,  for  so  it  hath  no  thoughts  nor 
mindinsr,  these  being  proper  to  the  soul,  but 
opposed  to  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Now,  the  corruption  of  nature  is  called  the 
jiesh,  not  without  very  good  reason,  not  only 
to  signify  the  baseness  of  it,  the  flesh  being 
the  more  ignoble  and  meaner  part  of  a  man, 
but  because  the  greatest  part  of  the  sins  of 
men's  lives,  are  about  sensitive  objects  andi 
tilings  that  concern  the  flesh  or  the  body.  It 


482 


THE  SINNER  A  REBEL  AGAINST  GOD. 


[Sfti.  IX 


letf.  in  tcmplation  of  sin  to  tiie  soul  by  the 
doors  of  tlie  suiisfs,  aiui  it  gives  the  last  per- 
fection or  aecoinplisiiinent  to  sin,  bv  the  ex- 
ternal ao'ing  of  it.  The  very  first  sin,  that 
brouirht  in  death  and  misery  with  it  upon 
mankind,  the  pleasures  of  the  eye  and  cf  the 
taatK.  were  sharers  in  the  <Tuiliiness  of  it. 

The  carnal  mtnd.]  Man  in  regard  of  his 
courposition,  is,  as  it  were,  the  tie  and  band 
of  lu'aven  and  earth  :  tliey  meet  and  are  mar- 
ried in  him.  A  body  he  has  taken  out  of  the 
dust,  but  a  soul  is  breathed  into  him  from 
heaven,  from  the  Father  of  Spirits  :  a  house 
of  clay,  but  a  guest  of  most  noble  extraction. 
But  the  pity  is,  it  hath  forgot  its  original,  and 
is  so  drownud  in  flesh,that  it  deserves  no  other 
than  to  go  under  the  name  of  flesh.  It  is  be- 
come the  slave  and  drudge  of  the  body,  and 
like  the  Israelites  in  Egypt,  made  perpetual- 
ly to  moil  in  clay.  What  is  all  your  mer- 
chandise^ your  trades  and  manufactures,  your 
tillage  and  husbandry,  but  all  for  the  body, 
in  its  behalf  ibr  food  and  raiment?  In  all 
thes«',  the  mind  must  be  careful  and  thought- 
ful, and  yet  properly  they  reach  it  not,  lor  it- 
self liath  no  interest  in  them.  It  is  true,  the 
necessity  of  the  body  requires  much  of  these 
things,  and  superfluous  custom  far  more  ;  but 
it  is  lamentable  that  men  force  iheir  soul  to 
forget  itself  and  its  proper  business,  to  at- 
tend to  these  things  only,  and  be  busy  in 
them.  They  spend  all  their  time,  and  their 
choicest  pains,  upon  perishing  things,  and 
which  is  worse,  engage  their  affections  to 
them.  They  mind  earthly  things,  whose  end 
is  destructio7i.  Phil.  iii.  18  : — the  same  word 
is  here. 

Will  you  consider  seriously,  that  your  souls 
run  the  hazard  of  perishing,  because  you 
consider  not  their  spiritual  nature  ?  When 
that  earthly  tabernacle  of  yours  shall  fall  to 
the  ground  (and  ere  long  it  must),  your  souls 
must  then  enter  eternity,  and  though  you  had 
as  large  a  share  of  earthly  things  as  your 
earthly  hearts  now  would  wish,  they  will  all 
lose  their  use  in  that  moment.  They  are  not 
a  proper  good  for  the  soul  at  any  time,  and 
least  at  that  time.  If  you  keep  it,  all  your 
life  long,  busy  about  the  interest  and  benefit 
of  the  flesh,  tlie  body,  how  poor  will  it  be 
when  they  part,  having  provided  nothing  at 
all  for  itself,  but  the  guiltiness  of  a  sinful 
life,  which  will  sink  it  into  that  bottomless 
pit !  Be  forewarned  then  :  For  to  he  carnal- 
It,  minded  is  death.  Vcr.  6,  preceding  the  text. 

The  carnal  mind.  Now,  as  sin  hath  de- 
based and  degenerated  the  soul  of  man,  ma- 
king it  carnal,  so,  the  Son  of  God.  by  taking 
on  our  nature,  hath  sublimated  it  again,  and 
made  it  spiritual.  The  souls  that  receive 
him  are  spiritualized  :  yea,  as  sin  made  the 
sou!  carnal,  grace  makes  the  very  body  to 
become  spiritual,  making  it  partaker  and  co- 
worker in  s|)iritual  things  together  with  the 
«oul,  in  doing  and  suffering,  and  participant 
of  the  hopes,  too,  of  an  everlasting  reward. 
This  is  the  main  Christian  character  our 


apostle  gives  here,  that  they  are  spiriti/alty 
minded,  and  thai  their  actions  suit  tlieif 
minds  :  They  walk  Jigt  after  the  flesh,  Inu  af' 
ter  the  Spirit.  Whereas  before,  with  the 
rest  of  the  world,  they  were  eager  in  the  pur- 
suit of  honors,  and  profits,  and  worldly  plea- 
sures, the  new  stream  of  their  desires  runs 
in  another  channel.  They  seek  afier  honor, 
and  are  very  ambitious  of  it  ;  but  it  is  such 
honor  the  aposiie  si)eaks  of  in  this  epistle, 
chap.  ii.  7.  By  patient  coyitinuance  in  well 
doing  they  seek  for  glory,  and  honor,  and 
immortality.  Their  mind  is  upon  profit  and 
gain  ;  but  it  is  with  the  same  apostle,  Phil, 
iii.  8,  that  they  wf/y  wm  Christ,  and  tbey  ac- 
count all  other  things  loss  in  comparison. 
And  their  desires  are  after  pleasure  too,  bui 
not  carnal  pleasures  ;  these  are  both  base, 
and  of  short  continuance,  but  the  pleasures 

'  they  aim  at,  are  those  that  are  at  God\t 
right  hand,  and  for  evermore,  Psalm  xvi.  11  ; 
and  that  path  of  life  which  the  psalmist  there 
speaks  of,  that  way  of  holiness  which  leads 
thither,  is  their  delight.  Spiritual  exercises 
they  go  to,  not  as  their  task  only,  but  more 
as  their  joy  and  refreshment.  And  thi.s 
change  the  Spirit  of  God  works  in  the  soul, 
making  it,  yea,  and  the  body  wherein  it 

1  dwells,  of  carnal,  to  become  spiritual  :  as 
fire,  to  which  the  Holy  Ghost  is  compared, 
refines  sand  and  ashes,  and  makes  of  them 
the  purest  glass,  which  is  so  neat  and  trans- 
parent. 

I  Eninity  against  God.']  Sin  hath  not  only 
made  us  unlike  God,  by  defacing  his  beau- 
tiful image  in  us,  not  only  strangers,  by 
making  us  wander  far  off  from  him,  but  ene- 
mies ;  nor  enetnies  only,  but  enmity  in  the 
abstract;  for  that  is  emphatical.  The  carnal 
mind  is  enmity,  nothing  else  but  enmity. 

Now,  this  enmity  is  described  in  the  latter 
clause  of  the  text,  by  an  antipathy,  so  to  call 
it,  or  non-compliance  with  the  law  of  God  : 
It  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of  God,  -leithei 
can  it  be,  to  wit,  while  it  remains  such.  There 
is  an  absolute  impossibity  in  it,  to  suit  with 
the  law  of  God.  and  consequently  with  God 
himself  The  reason  lies  in  their  opposite 
qualities.  God  is  spiritual  and  holy,  and  so 
is  the  law,  as  our  apostle  hath  it  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapter ;  and  the  opposition  he  there 
makes  between  his  unregenerate  yf.rx  and 
the  law,  is  wholly  true  of  the  un'eg?neratt 
man.  The  law  is  holy,  says  he,  v«r.  12  and 
14,  The  law  is  spiritual:  to  which  too  he 
opposes.  But  I  am  carnal,  sold  under  sin. 

Where  are  now  those  who  so  vilify  grace 
and  magnify  nature  ?  Or,  shall  I  rather  say, 
nullify  grac^'  and  deify  nature  ?  Here  is  the 
best  culog)  he  apostle  will  bestow  upon  the 
best  of  naures.  Enmity  against  God.  Nay, 
all  the  sparkles  of  virtue  and  moral  goodness 
in  civil  men  and  ancient  heathens  are  no  bet 
ter;  beside  many  other  things  to  be  said  of 
the  virtues  of  those  philosophers,  as  ignorance 
of  Christ,  by  whom  alone  this  enmity  is  re- 
moved. 


RcM.  viii.  7.]  THE  SINNER  A  REBEL  AGAINST  GOD.  483 


I  should  easily  confess,  nor,  I  think,  can  any 
deny  it,  that  there  is,  in  the  very  ruins  of  our 
nature,  some  character-  left  of  a  tendency  to 
God  as  our  chief  and  only  satisfying  good, 
which  we  may  call  a  kind  of  love,  and  when 
we  hear  him  spoken  of,  we  find  it  flutter  and 
siir  :  and  hence  men  so  abhor  the  imputation 
of  hating  God  and  being  his  enemies.  Yet 
his  is  so  smothered  under  sensuality  and 
flesh,  that  until  we  be  made  spiritual,  nothing 
appears  but  practical  and  (as  they  call  it)  in- 
terpretative enmity. 

There  is  one  thing  which  stains  them 
enough  :  they  were  all,  as  that  Father  speaks, 
aaiinalia  gloriat:  they  aimed  not,  in  their 
study  of  virtue,  at  God's  glory,  but  at  their 
own  ;  and  is  not  that  quarrel  enough,  and  mat- 
ter of  enmity  ?  Says  not  he,  My  glory  I  will 
not  give  unto  another  ? 

But  that  is  most  useful  to  you,  to  convince 
you  of  that  too  good  conceit  which  men  have 
of  their  natural  condition.  You  would  take 
it  hardly,  the  most  profane  of  you  all,  if  any 
should  come  to  you  in  particular,  and  tell  you, 
you  are  an  enemy  to  God  ;  but  I  answer,  there 
is  none  of  you,  if  you  believe  the  Scriptures, 
but  will  confess  that  all  men  are  naturally 
such,  and  therefore,  except  we  find  \n  our- 
selves a  notable  alteration  from  the  condition 
of  nature,  we  must  take  with  it,  tliat  we  are 
enemies,  yea,  enmity  to  God.  Of  strangers, 
to  become  acquainted  with  liim,  yea,  which 
is  more,  of  enemies  to  become  friends,  is  a 
freater  and  more  remarkable  change,  than  to 
1  incident  to  a  man  without  any  evidence 
a..u  -ign  of  it.  I  know  there  is  very  great  va- 
riety in  the  way  and  manner  of  conversion  ; 
and  10  some,  especially  if  it  be  in  their  tender 
years,  grace  may  be  instilled  and  dropped  in, 
as  it  were,  inscii-iibly.  But  this  I  may  confi- 
dently say,  that  whatsoever  be  the  way  of 
working  it,  there  will  be  a  wide  and  ajjparent 
difference  between  triend.ship  with  God,  and 
the  condition  of  nature,  which  is  enmity 
against  him.  Do  not  flatter  yourselves.  So 
long  as  your  minds  remain  carnal,  ardent  in 
love  to  the  world,  and  cold  in  love  to  God, 
'over*:  of  pleasures  more  than  of  God  (as  the 
apostle  speaks),  you  are  his  enemies,  for  with 
him  there  is  no  neutrality.  That  which  they 
say,  taxing  it  as  a  weakness  in  the  sex,  Aut 
amat,  aut  odit,  nihil  est  tertium,  is  in  this 
case  necessarily  true  of  all.  And  this  is  God's 
prerogative,  that  he  can  judge  infallibly  of 
the  inside.  Those  shadows  of  friendship  men 
use  one  with  another,  will  not  pass  with  him. 
Deceived  he  can  not  be,  but  men  may  easily  ; 
and,  alas  !  too  many  do  deceive  themselves 
in  this  matter,  to  their  own  ruin. 

We  may  learn  hence,  how  deep  sin  goes 
mio  our  nature,  and  consequently,  that  the 
cure  and  remedy  of  it  must  go  as  deep  ;  that 
all  the  pans  of  our  bodies  and  all  the  powers 
of  our  souls  are  polluted  originally,  our  very 
mtnd  and  mnscience,  as  the  apostle  speaks, 
for  it  is  immersed  m  flesh,  and  enslaved  to 
flesh  naturally,  and  therefore  ii  goes  under  its 


name.  We  are  become  all  flesh  :  that  is  the 
spring  of  our  mischiefs.  We  hare  lost  our 
likeness  to  our  Father,  the  Father  of  Spirits, 
the  purest  and  most  spiritual  Spirit,  till  renew- 
ed by  participation  of  his  Spirit  in  our  flesh. 

And  it  is  the  error,  not  only  of  natural  men, 
but  somewhat  of  the  godly  too,  that  in  self- 
reformation  they  set  themselves  against  ac- . 
tual  sin,  but  they  lay  not  the  axe  tp  the  rool 
of  the  tree,  this  root  of  bitterness,  this  our  in- 
bred and  natural  enmity  against  God  ;  and  till 
this  be  done,  the  lopping  off  of  some  branches 
will  -do  no  good  ;  while  the  root  is  in  vigor, 
those  will  grow  again,  and  possibly  faster  than 
before.  Bewail  every  known  act  of  sin,  as 
much  as  you  can,  for  the  least  of  them  de- 
serves it  ;  but  withal,  let  ihe  consideration  of 
them  lead  you  into  thoughts  of  this  seed  of 
rebellion,  the  wickedness  of  our  nature,  that 
takes  life  with  us  in  the  womb,  and  sprinss 
and  grows  up  with  us,  and  this  will  humble 
us  exceedingly,  and  raise  our  godly  sorrow  to 
a  higher  tide.  We  find  David  taketh  this 
course  in  the  fifty-first  Psalm  :  where  he  is  la- 
menting his  particular  sin  of  adultery  and 
murder,  it  leads  him  to  the  sinfulness  of  his 
nature,  I  was  shapen  in  iniquity,  and  in  sin 
did  my  mother  conceive  me  [or,  warm  me]  ; 
which  he  mentions,  not  to  extenuate  and  di- 
minish his  sin  ;  no,  he  is  there  very  far  from 
that  strain,  but  adds  it  as  a  main  aggravation. 
Indeed  the  power  of  original  sin  in  the  regen- 
erate is  laid  very  low,  yet  is  it  not  altogether 
extinct,  which  they  find  often  to  their  grief, 
and  this  makes  them  cry  out  with  our  apos- 
tle, in  the  former  chapter,  0  irrrtched  man 
that  I  am.  ivhn  shall  deliver  me  from  this  body 
of  death  .'  The  converted  are  already  deliv- 
ered (as  he  there  adds)  from  the  dominion  of 
it,  but  not  from  the  molestation  and  trouble 
of  it.  Though  it  is  not  a  quiet  and  uncon- 
trolled master,  as  it  was  before,  yet  it  is  in 
the  hou«e  still,  as  an  unruly  servant  or  slave, 
ever  vexing  and  annoying  them  ;  and  this 
body  of  death  they  shall  have  still  cause  to 
bewail,  till  death  release  them.  This  lepro- 
sy hath  taken  so  deep  root  in  the  walls  of 
this  house,  that  it  can  not  perfectly  be  cleansed 
till  it  be  taken  down  ;  and  it  is  this,  more  than 
any  other  sorrows  or  afflictions  of  life,  that 
makes  the  godly  man  not  only  content  to  die, 
but  desirous,  longing,  with  our  api;stle,  to  he  dis- 
solved, and  be  loith  Christ,  which  is  far  better. 

As  this  teaches  us  the  misery  of  min's  na- 
ture, so  it  sets  off  and  commends  excet-dingly 
the  riches  of  God's  grace.  Are  men  natural- 
ly his  enemies  ?  Why  then  admire,  first,  his 
patience  and  bounty  a  little,  and  then  we  will 
speak  of  his  saving  grace.  Could  not  he  very 
easily  ease  himself  of  his  adversaries,  as  he 
says  by  the  prophet?  Isa.  i.  24.  Wants  he 
power  in  his  right  hand  to  find  out  and  cut 
off  all  his  enemies  ?  Surely  no.  Not  only  he 
hath  power  to  destroy  them  all  ;.n  a  moment, 
but  the  very  withdrawing  of  his  hand,  that 
upholds  their  being  (though  they  consider  it 
not),  would  make  them  fall  to  nothing.  Ye* 


184 


Tllh  TKU£  CHRISTIAN, 


(Ser.  X. 


IS  he  pleased  not  only  to  spare  transgft'ssors,  ' 
but  to  give  them  many  ouiward  blessings, 
rain  and  fruitful  svnsons,  as  the  apostle 
speaks,  Acts  xiv.  17.  And  the  earth  which 
is  so  lull  of  man's  rebellion,  is  yet  more  full 
of  God's  goodness:  The  earth  is  full  of  thy 

foodness,  says  the  psalmist.  It  is  remarka- 
lethat  tiiat  same  reason  which  is  given.  Gen. 
yi.  5,  of  the  justice  of  God  in  drowning  the 
world,  is,  in  chapter  viii.  21,  rendered  as  the 
reason  of  God's  resolved  patience  ever  since  : 
And  the  Lord  said,  I  will  not  curse  the  ground 
any  more  for  /nan^s  sake  ;  for  the  imagirtation 
if  nian^s  heart  is  evil  from  his  youth. 

Then  consider  his  grace,  in  finding  a  way 
af  reconcilement,  and  not  sparing  his  own 
^on,  his  only  begotten  Son,  to  accomplish  it. 
^or  did  the  Son  spare  hmiself.  0  matchless 
love  !  to  lay  down  his  life,  not  for  friends,  but 
for  strangers  ;  not  only  so,  but  enemies,  for 
unrighteous  and  ungodly  persons,  such  as  be 
at  enmity  against  him.  Romans  v.  7,  8.  And 
having  done  this,  he  sends  his  word,  the  mes- 
sage of  reconciliation,  to  rebels,  and  sends  his 
Spirit  into  the  hearts  of  those  whom  he  hath 
appointed  to  salvation,  to  change  their  spirits, 
that  they  perish  not  in  disobedience  :  he  brings 
them  near  ivho  were  fdr  off,  having  slain  this 
enmity  by  the  death  of  his  Son. 

As  many  of  you,  then,  as  have  hitherto 
heard  this  message  of  reconciliation  in  vain, 
be  persuaded  at  last  to  give  ear  to  it.  This  is 
all  that  God's  ambassadors  require,  accord- 
ing to  their  instructions  from  himself,  that 
men  would  lay  down  their  enmity  against 
him,  and  not  be  so  foolish  as  wilfully  to 
perish  in  it :  We  pray  you  in  Christ^s  stead, 
be  ye  reconciled  to  God.    2  Cor.  v.  20. 

Consider  that  this  enmity  is,  \st,  unjust, 
2f//y,  unhappy.  (1.)  Unjust  it  is,  being  against 
him  who  is  the  chief  object  of  love,  who  is 
altogether  goodness,  both  in  himself  and  tow- 
ard his  creatures.  It  is  too  much  not  to  love 
him  with  most  ardent  and  superlative  affec- 
tion ;  but  to  entertain  enmity  against  him  is 
madness.  As  it  was  said  to  one  who  asked, 
"  Why  are  the  beautiful  loved?" — ''It  is  a 
blind  man\'<  (juestton  ;"  certainly  we  are  blind 
if  we  see  not  cause  enough,  not  only  to  desist 
from  enmity,  but  to  be  inflamed  with  his  love. 
One  glance  of  his  amiable  countenance  is  suf- 
ficient to  cause  the  most  rebellious  heart  to 
yield,  and  lay  down  arms,  and  for  ever  de- 
mote itself  to  his  services.  No,  we  know  him 
not,  and  therefore  it  is  we  hold  out  against 
him.  Is  he  not  the  living  spring  of  all  our 
comforts?  Have  we  not  from  him  life,  and 
breath,  and  all  things  ?  And  is  he  not  ready 
to  forgive  inKjuit  y,  transgression,  and  sin? 
Let  mercy  melt  our  hearts  to  him,  those  sweet 
rays  of  love.  Let  his  loving  kindness  over- 
come these  stubborn  hearts  and  spirits  of  ours. 
Among  enemies,  the  weaker  usually  seeks 
5rst  for  peace,  but  here  it  is  the  Mighty  ;  Al- 
mighty God  comes  to  entreat  agreement  with 
sinful  clay. 
U.)  But  if  this  prevail  not,  then  think  how 


unhappy  this  enmity  is.  You  who  are  so  afraid 
of  men,  and  those  weak  men,  of  men  like 
yourselves,  whose  breath  is  in  their  nostrils 
will  ye  not  tremble  at  his  powei,  and  be  afraio 
to  continue  on  terms  of  hostility  against  him 
who  is  the  Lord  of  hosts,  who  hath  p"wer 
both  over  soul  and  body,  to  kill  both  anc  'ast 
them  into  hell  ?  What  is  the  stoutest  of  men, 
but  as  stubble  to  the  flame  of  his  wrath  ? 
Our  God  is  a  consuming  fire.  Heb.  xii.  "29. 
The  sinners  in  Zion  are  afraid,  says  the 
prophet.  \\  ho  shall  dicell,  say  they,  with  de- 
vouring fire  and  everlasting  burnings  i  Isa. 
xxxiii.  14.  Then,  if  you  would  not  perish, 
when  his  wrath  is  kindled,  take  that  word  of 
Eliphaz,  Job  xxii.  21  :  Acquaint  now  thyself 
with  him,  and  be  at  peace;  thereby  good  shall 
come  unto  thee. 

And  to  you,  so  many  as  he  hath  laiien  into 
friendship  with  himself,  look  backward  to  the 
gulf  you  have  escaped,  and  Ibrward  to  the 
happiness  you  are  appointed  to,  and  let  the 
joint  consideration  of  both  awaken  your  hearts 
and  tongues  to  praises.  How  can  your  hearts 
contain  such  a  wonder  of  love  as  he  hath 
manifested  to  you,  and  not  run  over  in  songs 
and  praise  ? 

.And,  as  you  owe  him  praises,  so  study,  be- 
ing made  his  friends,  to  become  more  like 
him.  That  same  idem  velle,  et  idem  jiulle, 
to  love  and  hate  the  same  things  with  him, 
will  be  a  sure  testimony  of  friendship.  And 
because  carnality,  or  flesnly  and  earthly  mind- 
edness,  is  here  made  the  character  of  enmity, 
mortify  those  affections,  nail  them  to  that 
cross  of  Christ  whereby  the  enmity  was  taken 
away.  And  further,  being  once  admitted  into 
friendship  labor  for  a  further  degree  of  inti- 
macy with  him,  and  forbear  everything  that 
may  hinder  that.  Use  frequent  converse  with 
him  ;  for  that  both  entertains  and  increases 
friendship.  If  anything  fall  out  on  your  part 
(as  it  too  often  does),  that  may  occasion  any 
strangeness  between  you  and  your  God,  rest 
not  till  it  be  removed.  And  if  you  walk  in  this 
way,  it  shall  undoubtedly,  at  length,  bring  you 
where  you  shall  abide  in  his  presence  for  ever, 
and  shall  no  more  fear  any  breach  or  inter- 
ruption of  enjoying  him.  To  him  be  praise  ! 
Amen. 


SERMON  X. 

THE  TRUE  CHRISTIAN,  THE  BEST  SUBJECT. 

Romans  xiii.  5,  6,  7,  8. 

Wherefore,  ye  must  needs  be  subject,  not  only  for 

wrath,  but  also  fnr  conscience'  sake. 
For,  for  this  cause  pay  ye  tribute  also  :  for  they  are 

God's  ministers,  attending  continually  upon  this 

very  thing. 

Render  therefore  to  all  their  dues ;  tribute  to  whom 
tribute  is  due,  custom  to  whom  custom,  fear  to 
whom  fear,  honor  to  whom  honor. 

Owe  no  man  anything,  but  to  love  one  another  ;  for 
he  that  loveth  another  hath  fulfilled  the  law. 

The  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God,  which 
shine  in  the  natural  order  and  dependance  of 


Ron.  xiii.  5 — 8.] 


THE  BEST  SUBJECT. 


485 


things  in  the  frame  of  the  great  world,  appear 
likewise,  and  commend,  themselves  to  us,  in 
the  civil  order  he  hath  instiiuied  in  the  socie- 
ties of  men,  the  lesser  world.  As  out  of  the 
same  mass  he  made  the  heavens  and  the 
earth,  and  the  other  elements  between  them, 
one  higher  than  another,  and  gave  them  dif- 
ferent stations  and  qualities,  yet  so  difl'erent 
as  10  be  linked  and  concatenated  together, 
Concordia  disrordia,  and  all  for  the  concern 
and  benefit  of  the  whole  ;  thus,  for  the  good 
of  men,  hath  the  Lord  assigned  these  different 
stations  of  rule  and  subjection  (though  all  are 
of  one  race.  Acts  xviii.  26),  raising  from 
among  men  some  above  the  rest,  and  clothing 
them  with  such  authority  as  hath  some  rep- 
resentment  of  himself,  and  accordingly  com- 
.Tiunicaling  lo  them  his  own  name:  /  have 
said,  ye  are  gods.  And  the  very  power  that 
is  in  magistracy  to  curb  and  punish  those 
that  despise  it,  the  apostle  useih  as  a  strong 
and  hard  cord  to  bind  on  the  duty  of  obedi- 
ence, a  cord  necessity.  But  he  has  another 
of  a  higher  necessity,  that  binds  more  strong- 
ly, and  yet  more  sweetly,  that  of  conscience. 
Wherefore  ye  m'ist  needs  he  subject,  not  only 
for  wrath,  but  also  for  conscience^  sake. 

Observe,  1.  This  is  the  main  consideration 
which  closes  the  discourse,  the  great  cord  that 
binds  on  and  fastens  all  the  rest ;  all  the 
arguments  foreiroing,  therefore,  are  mainly 
here  to  be  pressed.  Have  a  reverential  and 
conscientious  respect  to  the  ordinance  of  God 
in  the  insiitution  of  government,  and  to'  the 
providence  of  God  in  his  choice  of  those  par- 
ticular persons  wliom  he  calls  to  it.  Contain 
thyself  in  thy  own  station,  and  submit  to  those 
set  higher  by  the  Lord,  in  obedience  to  him. 
This,  indeed,  is  the  only  true  spring  of  all 
obedience,  both  to  God,  and  to  men  for  him, 
and  according  to  his  ordinance.  To  regulate 
(he  outward  carriage,  without  the  living 
principle  of  an  enlightened  and  sanctified 
conscience  within,  is  to  build  without  a  foun- 
dation. This  is  the  thing  God  eyes  most. 
He  looks  through  the  surface  of  men's  actions 
to  the  bottom,  follows  them  into  their  source, 
examines  from  what  motives  and  reasons  tliev 
flow.  He  sees  not  only  the  handle  of  the  dial, 
but  all  the  wheels  and  weights  of  the  clock 
that  are  the  cause  of  its  motion,  and  accord- 
ingly judges  bnth  men  and  their  actions  to  be 
good  or  evil,  as  the  inward  frame  and  secret 
motions  of  the  heart  are.  In  his  own  wor- 
ship, the  outside  of  it  may  have  the  same 
visage  and  plausible  appearance  in  a  multi- 
tude convened  to  if  atid  concurring  in  it,  and 
no  human  eye  can  trace  a  difference  :  and 
yet,  oh,  what  vast  difference  doth  God's  eve 
discover  among  iliem  !  He  sees  the  multi- 
tU'le  of  ihoso  who  are  driven  to  his  house  by 
the  power  of  .!ivil  and  church  laws,  or  carried 
to  it  only  witli  the  stream  of  company  and 
custom  (and  these,  I  fancy,  take  up  th«  most 
room  in  our  churches)  :  l)Ut  he  sees  here  and 
there,  where  such  are  in  any  corner,  who 
worship  b-.m  in  singleness  cf  heart,  out  of  con- 


science to  his  holy  command,  and  under  a 
'  sense  of  their  many  obligations — those  who 
dare  not  let  ]iass  any  opportunity  they  can 
I  reach,  of  doing  service  to  their  Lord,  and  who 
dare  not  slight  his  word,  and  thus  coming  for 
conscience^  sake,  they  do  present  their  souls  tc 
receive  his  word  ;  give  their  hearts  up  to  re- 
ceive the  impression  of  it,  put  themselves 
under  it,  to  be  stamped  by  it  according  to 
that,  Rom.  vi.  17  :  But  ye  have  obeyed  frcm 
the  heart  that  form  of  doctrine  which  was  de- 
livered you.    So,  likewise,  he  sees  those  who 
bear  his  name  to  his  people,  the  ministers  of 
!  his  word.    If  they  preach  constantly,  and  live 
blamelessly,  and  are  diligent  and  irreprovable 
;  in  all  the  external  parts  of  their  walking,  this 
!  last  satisfies  men's  ques'ions  in  their  inspec- 
1  tion  and  visitings ;  but  tiod's  inquiry  and 
visiting  search  deeper.    He  asks  from  what 
heart  all  this  comes,  whether  from  a  holy 
conscience  of  the  weight  and  high  importance 
of  their  holy  calling,  and  a  faithful  respect  to 
the  interest  of  their  Master's  glory  and  his 
people's  souls.    And  thus,  he,  as  supreme 
i  Judge,  sits  and  considers  the  proceedings  of 
judges  and  magistrates  ;  not  only  whether 
they  do  that  which  is  just  (for  often  they  can 
not,  easily  or  safely,  do  otherwise),  but  wheth- 
er they  do  it  with  regard  to  him  or  not  ;  that 
is,  whether  they  judge  righteously, /or  con- 
science' sake,  or  nol;  whether  they  do  consider 
him,  as  sitting  above  them,  when  they  sit  down 
upon  the  bench  or  seat  of  justice,  and  do  in- 
deed truly  speak  ri<;hteousnrss.  Psalm  Iviii.  1, 
or  whether  in  heart  they  work  wickedness. 
If  they  have  any  corrupt  end,  or  hearts  that 
are  not  straight,  he  sits  on  their  heart  and 
judges  it;  whether  this  be  done  either  for 
!  base  srain,  or  vain  glory,  or  by  compulsion,  or 
outward  necessity,  or  danger  of  censure,  or 
whether  it  be  this  latter,  an  inward  necessity 
of  conscience,  which  makes  a  true  willingness. 
!     Thus  people,  if  they  obey  for  wrath,  that 
i  is,  for  fear  of  the  magistrate's  sword,  more 
}  than  for  conscience  of  the  Lord's  command, 
[  God  accounts  not  this  obedience,  but  in  his 
jud^rnient  it  goes  for  no  better  than  rebellion. 
I  It  is  to  be  feared,  too  many  magistrates,  and 
j  others,  have  in  this  nation  embraced  the 
reformation,  not  at  all  for  conscience'  sake, 
but  only  for  wrath,  from  fear  of  laws  and 
au  hority.    Hut  although  we  are  not  able  to 
'  follow  forth  his  search  to  the  full,  that  being 
the  Lord's  own  prerogative,  yet,  truly,  where 
it  is  evident  to  us  that  there  is  nothing  of  con- 
:  science,  though  in  civil  things  it  may  pass, 
I  yet,  in  things  that  are  peculiarly  matters  of 
conscience  in  religion,  men  ouiibt  to  be  some- 
what wary,  according  to  the  utmost  of  due 
discerning;  and  we  are,  possibly,  somewhat 
to  blame  in  the  proJhiscuousadmittingof  such, 
whose  carriage,  yea,  whose  profession  and 
xcWifum  speak  aloud,  that  their  compliance 
was  wholly  constrained  obedience,  only  for 
wroth,  and  not  /"or  conscirnce. 

If  civil  authority  is  to  be  obeyed  most  for 
conscience,  then,  church  authority,  that  is 


THE  TRUE  CHRISTIAN 


IJ5F.R.  X 


more  symbolical  wiili  conscience,  :ind  liatli 
nearer  rel'erince  to  it,  ouijhl  lo  aim  most  at 
that.  Conviction  and  conversion  is  our  work, 
and  not  constraint  ;  to  hrini;  people,  both  by 
the  word  and  by  a  way  of  discipline  suitint; 
and  backint;  it,  to  a  sense  of  sin  and  spiritual 
thour;hts  of  God  and  his  holy  law,  thai  they 
may  be  subjct  more  for  conscience  than  for 
wrath. 

And  ye  people,  labor  more  to  find  the  act- 
ings of  that  holy  fear  of  (^od  and  conscience 
of  his  will  in  all  your  ways.  Study  to  have 
an  inward  lighi,  a  practical,  sanctil'yinsr  light, 
directing  you  ;  and  be  not  merely  held  in  as 
beasts,  by  the  authority  and  laws  of  men,  but 
learn  to  know  and  be  sensil)le  of  the  sovereign 
authority  of  ihe  most  high  (!od  and  his  law, 
and  to  have  respect  unto  all  his  command- 
ments. If  this  were  once  done,  how  regular 
a  mo(ion  would  it  keep  among  all  superiors 
and  inferiors  of  all  sorts,  in  families  and  states, 
the  one  comtnanding,  the  other  obeying,  in 
God  !  It  would  be  as  sweet  music  in  the 
celestial  choir  of  their  lives  and  affairs. 
Right-infuriningand  right  inoviiis  consciences 
Would  be  as  continual  teachers  within,  direct- 
ing all  m  obedience,  and  would  make  it  both 
more  constant,  sweet,  and  i)leasaiit,  as  natural 
motion  ;  whereas  that  is  grievous  and  violent 
which  is  from  wrath,  or  outward  power,  and 
therefore  lasts  not:  as  the  Israelites  worship- 
ped God  aright  while  their  good  judges  lived, 
and  ran  after  idols  when  they  were  removed. 

Again.  This  same  obedience  /'or  coiiscience 
ennobles  and  sublimates  men's  actions  even 
m  civil  things,  makes  them  have  somewhat 
Divine,  turns  all  into  sacrifice  to  God,  when 
all  is  done  for  (Jod  :  even  servants  and  chil- 
dren obeying  niasiers  and  parents,  and  sul)- 
jects  magistrates,  for  his  command's  sake, 
still  thinking,  in  the  whole  course  of  their 
regular,  due  carriage,  in  their  very  callings. 
This  I  do  for  God  ;  my  ordinary  labor  and 
works,  and  my  just  obedience  to  men,  I  ofler 
up  to  him.  This  is  the  philosopher's  stone, 
that  turns  actions  of  lower  metal  into  gold  ; 
I  set  the  Lord  alwaijx  before  me.  Psalm  xvi.  8. 

Obx.  2.  Kings,  and  other  powers  of  the 
world,  who  are  the  enemies,  and  sometimes 
the  enraged  persecutors  of  our  holy  religion, 
mistake  their  quarrel,  and  are  very  wrong- 
fully misprejudiced  against  it,  when,  upon 
that  false  sui)[)osition,  they  hate  and  oppose 
it,  suspecting  it  as  an  enemy  to  their  dignity 
and  authority  ;  whereas  there  is  nothing  that 
doth  so  much  assert  their  just  power  as  re- 
ligion doth.  Civil  laws  may  tie  the  hands 
and  tongue  lo  their  obedience,  but  religion 
binds  all  due  subjection  to  them  upon  the 
very  consciences  of  their  people.  Therefore 
they  are  both  ungrateful  and  unwise,  in  using 
their  power  against  reliiiion,  which  it  somuch 
strengthens.  Their  ])ower  should  strengthen 
it,  both  by  way  of  due  return,  to  correspond 
with  it  in  that,  and  even  for  its  own  interest, 
receiving  a  new  establishment  to  itself  by 
«siablishing  i  ili<;ion.    Even  that  master  of 


irreligious  policy,  Machiavel,  confesses  that 
the  profession  of  religion  is  a  friend  tc  authori- 
ty. But  if. the  shadow  of  it  do  anything  that 
way,  we  sec,  contrary  to  his  profane  suppnsi. 
tion,  the  substance  and  truth  of  doth  it  much 
more. 

Obs.  3.   \i  for  conscience'  sake  we  aie  to 
practise  this  sul)jection,  then,  surely  in  nothing 
is  it  our  duly  to  be  subject  against  the  true 
rule  of  conscience,  and  the  prime  object  of 
conscience,  the  authority  and  law  of  God. 
,  That  is  the  first  and  hi<;hest,  our  perpetual, 
!  unalterable  engagement  to  iiim,  binding  both 
;  kings  and  subjects,  both  high  Jind  low.  And 
if  rulers  leave  their  station,  we  ought  to  keep 
ours  still,  in  a  straight  subjection  to  God. 
For  the  extent  of  friendship  and  all  other  re- 
I  lations,  and  of  all  subjection  and  obedience, 
IS  to  be  ruled  and  bounded,  vsi/ue  ad  aras. 
Give  to  Cesar  the  thin>is  that  are  Cesar's,  but 
nothing  of  God's  :  that  is  neither  ours  to  give, 
nor  bis  to  receive. 

For,  for  this  cause  pay  you  trihule  also. 
This  the  apostle  sives  as  a  sign  of  that  con- 
fessed right  which  magistrates  have  to  the 
subjection  and  obedience  of  the  people,  that 
in  all  nations  this  homage  and  acknowledg- 
;  ment  is  due  to  them  :  Tribute  lo  whom  tribute 
is  due.    V.'hich  it  may  be  he  the  rather  men- 
tions, because  some  question  might  exist, 
what  might  Christians  do  concerning  this. 
However,  this,  according  to  the  constitution 
of  several  places,  he  takes  as  granted,  to  be 
not  only  lawful,  but  due  to  be  rendered.  Here 
we  are  not  to  insist  on  the  scanning  of  this  ; 
but  certainly,  as  the  power  of  a  magistrate'is 
not  in  this,  nor  in  any  other  thing,  absolute  and 
unbounded,  so,  the  legal  and  just  paying  ot 
I  tribute  and  other  revenues  by  the  people 
argues  their  engagement  to  those  set  over 
them,  and  is  to  be  rendered,  not  as  wages  to 
a  mercenary  servant,  but  as  an  honorary  due 
to  their  place  and  calling,  who  are  the  minis- 
ters of  God  in  civil  government.    So,  also, 
convenient  yet  liberal  maintenance  to  the 
ministers  of  God's  own  house  is  their  right, 
yet  not  to  enrich  them  ;  nor  yet  ought  it  to 
be  given  grudgingly,  as  uncVue,  or  supercil- 
j  iously,  as  to  servants,  but  with  the  chcerful- 
1  ness  and  respect  agreeable  to  the  Lord's  ser- 
I  vants,  wh(j  watch  for  their  souls. 
I     All  tribute  and  obedience  still  relate  to  this, 
i  and  are  grounded  on  it,  the  Lord's  institution 
,  of  [jowerand  government  for  the  good  of  rnen. 
'  Though  it  sometimes  prove  otherwise  in  the 
!  exercise  of  it,  yet  the  ordinance  is  pure,  and 
j  most  wisely  suited  to  its  end  :  from  which 
j  the  sin  and'corruplion  of  men  turn  it  but  toe 
often  to  the  hurt  of  ooth  the  ruler  himself  and 
of  the  ruled,  Eccl.  viii.  9  :   There  is  a  lime 
wherein  one  man  ruleth  over  another  to  his 
i  own  hurt;  each  proving  a  scourge  to  the  other, 
in  the  just  judgment  of  God  upon  both  for 
their  iniquities  ;  m^k'm<ia  fire  from  Abimelech 
to  devour  the  men  of  Shechrm,  and  the  men 
of  Shechem  to  deal  treacherously  with  AhnnC' 
,  lech.  Judg.  ix.  20.    Yet,  still  the  thit>g  itself 


Rom  xni.  5 — 8.] 


THE  BEST  SUBJECT. 


487 


rema.ns  good.  Many  skilful  physicians  niay 
bill  instead  of  curing,  yet  it  is  but  a  caprice 
to  decry  all  remedies,  and  the  use  of  things 
medicinal,  which  the  God  of  nature  hath  fur- 
nished for  that  use.  Men  may,  and  alas ! 
mos'  men  do,  prejudice  their  own  health,  by 
either  intemperate  or  in  some  way  irregular 
diet  :  vet  this  makes  nothing  against  the  con- 
tinual necessity  and  use  of  food,  nor  can  dis- 
suade any  from  using  it.  Thus,  the  abuses 
of  authority  infringe  not  this,  that  magistrates 
are  a  public  good  ;  yea,  the  unjust  are  better 
than  none,  tyranny  is  better  than  anarchy  ; 
there  is  some  justice  done  in  the  most  unjust 
government. 

But  thus,  they  who  are  exalted  to  rule, 
ought  to  consider  who  raised  them,  and  for 
v/hat  they  are  raised,  and  so  faithfully  lo  do 
justice.  They  are  raised  hiffh,  as  the  stars 
are  set  in  their  orbits,  for  influence  and  the 
good  of  the  inferior  world,  and  like  the  moun- 
tains which  rise  above  the  valleys,  not  to  he 
places  of  prey  and  ruin,  hut,  by  the  streams 
they  send  out,  to  refresh  them.  So,  from 
magistrates,  j7/(//;7«erei  ou<rht  to  run  down  as 
water,  and  justice  as  a  mi  a^hly  stream.  They 
ought  to  consider  themselves  as  ministers ; 
though  called  magistrates  with  relation  lo  the 
people,  yet  ministers  in  relation  to  God 
Hti),  and  the  people's  in  him,  as  the 
word  .>£iT«oy  ii  imports,  being  constant  laborers 
for  their  good  ;  even  as  the  sun  is  a  minister, 
God's  minister  of  heat  and  light  to  the  earth. 
Would  they  look  up  thus  to  God,  it  would 
make  them  lo(jk  down  on  their  inferiors,  not 
with  the  ill  aspect  of  pride  and  cruelty,  but 
with  the  benign  looks  of  good-will,  fidelity, 
and  vigilancy  fijr  their  welfare,  knowing  that 
they  are  appointed  for  this  very  use  in  the 
world  ;  not  referrina:  to  that  which  is  nearest 
here,  and  nearest  themselves,  the  receivin<r 
of  tribute,  but  the  remotest  good,  which  is 
the  chief  end  for  which  iheir  tribute  and  them- 
selves are  appointed,  iIk;  punishing  of  the 
wicked  and  the  encouragement  of  the  good. 

Render  therefore  to  all  their  dues,  tribute 
to  whom  trihute  is  due,  custom  to  ivhom  cus- 
tom, feiir  to  whom  fear,  honor  to  whom  honor. 
The  ap(jstle  enlarges  his  exhortation  to  the 
general  rule  of  equity.  The  humble,  upright 
mind  will  willingly  comjily  with  this,  and  i)ay 
respi'Ct  to  men,  in  obedience  to  (jod,  antl 
therefore  primarily  to  him,  which  the  most 
neglect.  Honor  and  fear  are  due  to  him  as  to 
our  Father  and  Master,  and  yet  where  is  it  to 
be  found  ?  If  I  he  a  father,  where  is  mine 
honor  ?  and  if  1  be  a  master  xohere  is  mu  fear? 
Mai.  i.  6.  The  tribute  of  praise  and  glory 
in  all  these  respects  is  dilc,  and  ought  not  to 
be  purloined,  nor  any  part  detained  ;  but  how 
few  are  faithful  in  this.  Much  uncustomed 
gcods  pass  among  our  hands  in  the  course  of 
our  lives,  many  things  wherein  we  are  not 
mindful  to  give  sjlory,  entire  glory  to  God. 
But  he  can  not  be  deceived  ;  if  we  go  on,  he 
will  take  us  in  our  quietest  coiwei/atice,  and 
all  will  be  forfeited.    We  shall  certainly  lose 


I  all,  if  all  glory  return  not  to  him.  All  thai 
we  have,  and  are,  should  we  daily  and  hearti- 
ly offer  up  to  him,  from  whom  we  have  life, 
and  breath,  and  all  things, 
j  Owe  no  man  anything,  but  to  love  one  anoth' 
er.  That  which  the  apostle  set  before  him- 
self, as  his  own  study  and  exercise,  he  doth, 
in  the  latter  part  of  this  epistle,  set  forth  at 
large,  as  the  duty  of  every  Christian,  to  keep 
a  conscience  void  of  offence  toward  God  and 
men.  Acts  xxiv.  16.  And  having,  in  the 
former  part  of  it,  treated  amply  and  excel- 
lently of  the  doctrine  of  Christian  faith  and 
1  salvation,  and  ascended  to  its  highest  cause, 
I  he  descends  thence  to  give  the  rules  o) 
I  a  Christian  life.  And  he  reduces  them  tc 
these  two  ;  1.  To  give  the  Lord  his  due 
which  is  ourselves  entire  :  our  bodies  oughi 
to  be  a  living  sacrifice,  and  that  they  are  not 
wiihout  the  soul.  And  it  is  love  in  the  soul, 
that  offers  up  this  whole  burnt-offering  to 
God,  the  fire  that  makes  it  ascend.  2.  Tow 
ard  men  likewise,  love  is  all.  Of  which, 
in  many  several  acts  of  it,  he  spake  likewise 
i  in  the  former  chapter,  ver.  9,  &c.  ;  and  hav- 
ing inserted  an  exhortation  to  subjection  to 
human  authority  as  a  divine  institution,  he 
now  returns  to  that  main,  comprehensive, 
j  and  universal  duty  of  love,  and  passes  fitly 
I  from  the  mention  of  other  particular  dues  to 
\  superiors,  to  this,  as  the  general  due,  or  stand- 
ing debt,  which  all  men  owe  one  to  another. 
So  I  conceive  this  is  not  intended  for  the  fur- 
,  ther  pressing  of  that  particular  duly  of  sub- 
jection, by  reducing  it  (as  seeming  hard  in  it- 
self) to  the  sweet  and  pleasant  rule  or  lawof 
love,  but  that  he  passes  wholly  irum  that  par- 
ticular to  this  common  duty,  so  as  that  it  is 
not  excluded,  but  comprehended  here  with 
the  rest,  though  not  specially  aimed  at  ;  a 
little  rivulet  running  awhile  in  its  own  chan- 
nel, in  the  foregoing  discourse,  which  falls 
here  in  again  to  the  main  current  of  the  doc- 
trine of  love,  begun  in  the  former  chapter. 
And  here  he  chooses,  adapiing  it  to  the  strain 
of  the  discourse  immediately  foregoing  it,  to 
express  this  under  the  notion  of  a  debt'  Owe 
nothin!^,  but  love. 

1.  Let  other  debt  be  removed  :  Owe  noth- 
ing. That  is,  be  not  willing  to  continue  debt- 
ors of  anything  to  anv,  by  undue  retaining  of 
such  things  as,  being  paid,  are  not  owing. 

2.  This  is  a  constant  debt,  which  you  must 
still  pay,  and  yet  still  owe — love.  And  the 
reason  added,  is  most  enforcing,  tliat  we 
should  be  willing  tocontiiiue  both  jiayei  s  2indi 
yet  debtors  of  it.  The  dueness  of  it  appears 
in  this,  ihat  the  law  requires  it,  and  the  com- 
pleteness of  it,  in  that  it  is  all  the  law  re- 
(jiiires:  Love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  taw. 
Which  is  amplified  in  the  two  subsequent 
verses. 

This  is  most  fully  true,  take  love  fully, 
as  it  looks  on  iis  full  object,  dud  and  jnan  ; 
and  so  ii  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  whole  law 
which  relates  to  those  two  in  its  two  tables. 
Take  it  particularly,  as  acting  toward  mea 


488 


THE  TRUE  CHRISTIAN 


[See.  X. 


(as  hcie  It  is),  and  so  it  fulfils  that  pan  of  the 
law,  thai  whole  lahle,  which  resijecis  man. 
The  most  of  those  comiiiaiulineiils  are  ex- 
pressly here  set  down  (ver.  9),  and  the  omis- 
Bion  of  one  is  fully  sujiplied  by  that  addition, 
If  tin  re  be  any  other.  Then  aijain,  il  is  clear- 
ed by  the  common  aim  and  result  of  them  all, 
which  is  to  keep  cjur  neighbt)r  undauiaiii'd, 
and  that,  love  doth  must  i^urely  and  fully  : 
therefore  it  fulfils  all.  That  nesjaiive,  icHr/,- 
eth  710  ill  to  his  nemhhor,  answers  the  strain 
of  all  the  commandruents,  which  is,  to  defend 
our  neighbors  from  our  ill,  being  most  of 
them  such,  and  all  of  them  such,  that  are 
here  specified  ;  yet  both  they,  and  this  sum  of 
them,  inYolving  the  contrary,  the  workintr  of  | 
al!  possible  f^ood  to  our  neisjlibor  ;  in  which, 
St. 11  love  suits  it,  nothinn;  being  both  more 
at  erse  from  wrong,  and  more  active  in  good, 
than  love  :  as  the  same  apostle  haili  it,  1  Cor. 
xiii.  Besides  that  it  can  not  do,  no,  nor  so  much  \ 
afi  think  evil,  it  is  naturally  carried  to  bounty 
and  kindness,  and  can  not  cease  from  doing 
good,  a  plant  that  is  fruitful  all  the  year  long. 

The  apostle  hath  very  good  authority  for 
this  abridgment  of  the  law  :  our  Savior  liim-  j 
self,  Matt,  x.xii.  40.    And  he  takes  it  out  of 
the  books  of  the  law  themselves,  and  certi- 1 
fies  us,  that  it  is  the  substance  and  sum  both  I 
of  the  law  and  the  prophets.    Were  this  love 
absolutely  perfect,  the  fulfilling  of  the  law 
would  be  so  too  ;  and  where  it  is  sincere,  as 
the  apostle  requires  it,  there  is  a  sincere  and 
evangelical  obedience,  or  fulfilling  of  the  law. 

In  the  text,  consider,  1.  The  largeness  of 
its  object.  2.  'i'he  largeness  of  its  acting. 
3.  The  height  of  its  true  original. 

1.  The  largeness  of  the  object.  So  far  as 
thou  canst  acquit  thyself,  owe  nothing  else  to 
any  ;  but  love,  owe  that  to  all.  Not  a  like  fa- 
miliar converse  necessarily  to  all,  nor  a  like 
measure  of  beneficence,  nor. a  like  degree  of 
love,  but  yet  love  alike  sincere  and  real  to  all. 
Not  either  a  false,  or  an  empty,  fair  carriage, 
but  holy  Christian  love,  love  rooted  in  thy 
heart,  and  springing  up  in  thy  actions,  even 
toward  all  men,  as  thy  opporiunuy  and  abil- 
itv  serve  thee,  and  their  condition  retjuiresof 
thee  ;  not  hating  or  despising  any  for  their 
poverty  in  estate,  or  deformity  of  body,  or  de- 
fects of  mind,  nor  for  that  which  works  most 
on  men,  injuries  done  to  thyself  Ail  they  \ 
can  do.  can  not  give  thee  an  acquittance, 
or  free  thee  of  this  dchl  of  love  ;  for  thou  art  \ 
bound  to  another.  This  is  the  rule  of  Jesus  | 
Christ,  and  the  badge  of  Christians,  to  love 
their  ve-y  enemies.  But  this,  oh  how  rare  1 
is  it !  How  few  attain  it !  Yea,  how  few  en- 
deavor to  attain  it  !  On  the  contrary,  it  is  by 
many  given  over  as  a  desjierate,  im[)ossible 
business,  they  judging  of  it  not  according  to 
that  spirit  of  Christ  that  is  his,  but  according 
to  the  corrupt  rancor  and  bita-rness  ol'  their' 
own  natural  perverse  spirits.  Yea,  and  too 
many  disdain  it  as  a  poorness  and  sheepish- 
ness  of  spirit  to  suffer  and  forgive.  Be  it  so  : 
Tet  H«  it  such  a  sheepishness  as  makes  a  man 


like  Jesus  Christ,  who,  as  a  sheep  before  the 
shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened  not  his  mouth, 
when  his  heart  within  was  compassionate 
toward  them,  as  appearal  when  he  opened 
it  concerning  them.  Father,  forgive  them,  for 
they  know  not  what  they  do.  This  is  true 
greatness  of  spirit,  to  partake  of  his  spirit 
that  is  the  highest  and  best  of  spirits,  and  it 
is  the  s])irit  oi  meekness  and  love,  lihnv  muci 
is  this  above  the  common  spirit  of  the  world  ! 
Truly  base  and  poor  is  that  which  is  decom- 
posed and  put  out  of  frame  with  every  touch  ; 
whereas  this  is  mighty,  and  triumphs  indeed 
over  all  provocations  and  injuries. 

2.  Let  us  consider  the  largeness  of  its  act- 
ing :  it  goes  through  the  law,  fulfils  it  all. 
That  command,  the  first  in  the  second  table, 
which  is  not  here  expressed,  is  it  not  love 
that  makes  all  concerned  ii.  'T.  to  fulfil  it,  thai 
produceth  mildness  and  mjL.eration  in  supe- 
riors, and  faithfulness  and  willing  obedience 
in  inferiors  ;  makes  both  authority  and  sub- 
jection sweet  and  easy,  where  love  com- 
mands and  love  obeys  ? 

And  for  the  next.  Thou  shalt  not  kill,  dotli 
not  love,  as  the  sunbeams  put  out  the  fire,  by 
its  divine  heat  eat  out  the  earthly,  yea,  the  in- 
fernal fire  of  fixed  malice  or  rash  anger,  that 
burns  naturally  in  the  hearts  of  men  ?  Such 
anger  is  called  brutish,  Ezek,  xxi.  31  ;  burn- 
ing or  brutish  ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  the  am- 
biguity, Prov.  xvii.  27,  is  happy,  of  an  excel- 
lent or  of  a  cool  spirit  ;  for  the  cool  spirit  is 
so,  cool  from  base  passion,  but  burning  truly 
with  this  love.  And  then  this  fire  is  by  very 
small,  and  many  times  merely  imaginary 
causes,  so  easily  blown  up,  that  it  flames 
forth  into  gross  murders,  or  at  least  such  in- 
juries and  violences,  or  contentions  and  revi 
lings,  as  go  in  God's  account,  and  are  writ 
down  in  his  book,  for  murders.  And  he  doth 
not  misjudge,  nor  misname  things,  but  they 
are  really  what  he  accounts  them.  Love  can 
generously  pass  over  those  things  about  which 
folly  and  pride  make  such  a  noise,  OA  .'  can  1 
bear  this  and  that  ?  And  thou  wouldst,  by  so 
saying,  spegik  thy  stout-heartedness.  Fool,  is 
this  stoutness  and  strength  ?  Is  it  not 
rather  the  greatest  weakness  to  be  able 
to  bear  nothing  ?  Have  not  the  weakest 
persons  much  of  that  kind  of  stoutness  and 
strength,  who  are  the  soonest  moved  and 
disquieted,  women  and  children,  and  sick  or 
aged  persons  ?  But  love.  Christian  love  to  thy 
brother,  makes  the  mind  truly  strong  anil 
composed,  not  easily  stirred  against  him  for 
every  trifle,  nay,  not  for  greater  matters. 
Love  can  endure  much,  yea,  all  thm<rs,  says 
the  apostle,  1  Cor.  xiii.  7  :  it  hath  strength  to 
stand  under  them,  and  stand  firm  ;  whereas 
base  minds,  void  of  love,  break  all  to  pieces 
under  a  very  small  weight.  Love  benreth  all 
thin<,rs,  as  tiie  supporters  of  a  strong  and  firm 
building  ;  or  rather,  as  a  house,  it  covers  all, 
for  so  the  word  signifies.  It  doth  not  blaze 
abroad  the  failinas  of  men ;  yea,  it  hides 
much,  covers  a  multitude  of  sins,  not  only 


Rom.  3un.  f-8." 


THE  BEST  SUBJECT. 


489 


from  the  eyes  of  others,  out  even  from  a  : 
maa's  own  oyes  ,  makes  him  not  behold  and 
look  on  those  thinijs  that  might  provoke  him 
Yea,  it  is  ingenious  and  inventive  of  the  fair- 
est constructions  of  things,  to  take  them  by 
the  best  side,  in  the  favorable  sense  ;  and  so 
long  as  there  is  any  agreeable  way  to  in- 
terpret anything  favorably,  will  not  have  a 
hard  thought  of  it,  thinks  no  ill,  as  there  it  is. 
Not  ouiyhath  it  no  active  evil  thoughts  of  te- 
venge,  or  returning  evil,  but  willingly  it  doth 
not  judsre  ill  of  what  is  done  by  others,  and 
what  might  be  so  looked  on  as  to  provoke  : 
aiXoyt^erai,  doth  uot  reckon  wrongs  so  high  as 
want  of  charity  moves  the  most  to  do,  it  sets 
them  low.  And  as  a  healthful  constitution  is 
sweet  Itself,  and  relishes  all  things  right,  so 
there  is  more  true  pleasure  and  content  of 
mind  in  forgiving,  than  ever  any  man  found 
in  revenge.  This  is  but  a  feverish  delight 
"which  malice  and  anger  have  wrousht,  work- 
ing perhaps  greedily,  but  it  is  indeed  a  dis- 
temper. This  love  is  the  very  root  of  peace 
and  concord,  an  humble  grace,  that  is  not  lift- 
ed up  and  insolent,  as  the  word  there  is,  and  j 
so  doth  not  breed  jars  about  punctilios  :  it  es- 
teems so  well  of  others,  and  so  meanly  of  it- 
self that  it  can  not  well  be  crossed  by  any  in 
that  ma'ter  of  undervaluing.  But  vain  spir- 
its are  puffed  up  with  a  little  approbation, 
and  as  easily  kindled  up  with  any  affront  or 
apprehended  disgrace.  Love  is  not  light- 
ly put  out  of  temi)er,as,  in  sickly  constitutions, 
a  fit  of  fever  or  ague  is  brought  on  by  any 
blast  or  wrong  touch  of  diet :  it  is  of  a  strong- 
er digestion,  and  firmer  health. 

Then  for  that  commandment,  Thou  shah 
not  commit  aduJlrry.  all  thinirs  of  that  kind, 
though  they  spring  from  a  kind  of  love,  yet 
are  not  from  this  hjve  from  ahovp,  but  (as 
the  Apostle  James  distinguishes  wisdom)  pro- , 
ceedfrom  the  love  that  \s  sensual  and  devilish. 
Love  is  not  the  true  name  of  it,  but  base  and 
brutish And  generally,  all  profane  soci- 
eties, and  sortings  of  men  one  with  another,  ' 
are  most  contrary  to  this  pure  love.  The 
drunkards  who  are  cup-friends,  as  they  are 
full  of  jars,  and  have  no  constancy,  but  are 
unstable  as  that  wherein  their  friendship  lies, 
their  liquor,  arc  a  vile,  despicable  society,  not 
worthy  of  men,  much  less  of  Christians. 
This  sin  hath  affinity  with  unclcanness,  and 
is  usually  ranked  there.  Right  love  to  a  tip- 
ler,  is  not  to  sit  down  and  guzzle  with  him, 
but  to  reprove  and  labor  to  reclaim  him,  and 
where  that  can  not  be  done,  to  avoid  him. 
To  wicked  persons  we  owe,  not  a  complacen- 
cy or  delight,  which  is  most  contrary  to  this 
love,  but,  haling  their  sin,  we  owe  them  love, 
and  the  desiring,  and,  ai  far  as  love  can,  the 
[ifocuring  of  their  conversion  and  salvation. 
"Wicked  convtTse  can  not  consist  with  this 
love,  which  is  ihe  fulfilling  of  the  law,  and  ' 
not  a  cotribiri;iti(jn  fir  the  lireaking  of  it,  and 
the  joininir  of  their  strength  together  for  that 
end.  Love  rrjotceth  not  in  invfuity,  hut  in 
the  truth:  it  makes  not  men  rejoice  toge'her 
62 


in  sin.  So  foul,  unclean  affections,  and  a  so- 
ciety in  order  to  the  gratifying  of  them,  are 
most  contrary  to  it.  True  love  is  most  ten- 
der of  the  chastity  of  others,  and  can  not  abide 
an  impure  thought  in  itself 

So,  as  to  the  next  precept,  Thou  shall  not 
steal,  love  would  be  loath  to  enrich  or  advan- 
tage itself  upon  the  damage  of  others  in  any 
kind.  It  doth  most  faithfully  and  singly  seek 
the  profit  and  prosperity  of  our  neighbor  even 
as  our  own.  And  if  this  took  place,  of  how 
much  use  were  it  in  the  world  !  But  oh  !  it 
is  rare.  This  meum  and  luum  is  the  grand 
cause  of  the  ill  understanding  and  discords 
that  are  among  men,  when  things  are  not 
managed  by  this  love,  but  by  self-love. 

And  so,  as  to  that,  Thou  shall  not  bear  false 
witness,  the  cherishing  and  preserving  of  the 
good  name  of  our  brethren  is  a  properand  very 
remarkable  fruit  of  this  love,  which  is  so  far 
from  forging  false,  defaming  stories,  that  it 
will  rather  excuse,  if  it  may  be  done,  or  if  not, 
will  pitij  the  real  failings  of  men  which  tend 
to  tlieir  reproach  :  and,  on  the  contrary,  will 
teach  men  to  rejoice  in  the  good  carriaq-e  and 
good  esteem  of  their  brethren,  as  in  their  oWT. 

In  the  end,  love  works  such  a  complacency 
in  the  good  of  others,  and  such  a  contenlation 
with  our  own  estate,  that  it  most  powerfully 
banishes  that  unruly  humor  of  covetins:, 
which  looks  on  the  condition  of  others  with 
envy,  and  on  our  own  with  grudging  and  dis 
content.  This  law  of  love  written  withiu, 
doth  not  only  rectify  and  order  the  hands  and 
the  tongue,  but  the  jealousies,  the  very  stir 
rings  of  ihe  heart  :  it  corrects  the  usual  dis- 
order of  its  motion,  and  bars  those  uncharita- 
ble, inordinate  thoughts,  that  do  so  abound 
and  swarm  in  carnal  minds. 

3.  The  original  of  this  love,  is  that  other 
love  which  corresponds  to  the  other  part,  the 
first  and  chief  point  of  the  law,  our  duty  tow- 
ard God.  Love  to  him  is  the  sum  and 
source  of  all  obedience.  When  the  whole 
soul  and  mind  is  possessed  with  that,  then 
all  is  acceptable  and  sweet  that  he  commands; 
first,  what  he  commands  as  immediately  re- 
ferrible  to  himself,  and  then,  what  is  the  rule 
of  our  carriage  to  men  as  l)eing  [)rescril)cd  and 
commanded  by  him.  Forso,!ind  no  otherwise, 
is  this  love  the  fulfiUnig  of  the  Law,  when  it 
flows  from  x\\7i\.  first  love,  love  to  God,  whose 
law  it  is  that  commands  this  other  love  to 
men.  Some  men  may  have  somewhat  like 
it,  by  a  mildness  and  ingenuousness  of  nn- 
lure,  being  inoffensive  and  well-disposed  tow- 
ard all;  but  then  only  doth  it  fulfil  the  law, 
when  out  of  regard  to  the  law  of  God  it 
obeys,  and  obeys  out  of  love  to  him  whose 
law  it  is.  So,  then,  the  love  of  God  in  the 
heart  is  the  spring  of  right  and  holy  love 
to  our  neighbor,  both  (1.)  Because  in  obedi- 
ence to  him  whom  we  love  sovereignly,  we 
shall  love  others  sincerely,  because  he  will 
have  it  so.  That  is  reason  enough  to  the 
soul  possessed  and  taken  up  with  bislcjve.  It 
loves  nothing,  how  lovely  soever,  but  in  b»na 


490 


(fRAPES  FROM  THORNS. 


[Ser.  XL 


and  for  him,  in  order  and  subordination  to  his 
love,  and  in  respect  to  liis  will ;  and  it  loves 
anything-,  how  unlovely  soever,  taking  it  in 
that  conteniplation.  It  ioves  not  the  dearest 
frienil  but  in  (Jod,  and  can  love  tlie  hatel'ul- 
lest  enemy  lor  him  :  Amit  uin  in  Deo,  el  inim- 
tcu/n  propier  Deuin.  [ Autrustine.]  His  love 
can  beautify  the  most  uiiamiable  object,  and 
make  ii  lnvely.  He  saith  ot'a  worthless,  un- 
deservinac  man,  or  thy  most  undeserving  ene- 
my, Love  him  for  my  sake,  because  it  pleas- 
es nie  :  and  that  is  reason  enough  to  one  who 
loves  him.  (2.)  There  is  that  dilating,  sweet- 
ening virtue  in  love  to  God,  that  it  can  act  in 
no  other  way  to  men  but  as  becomes  love. 
Base  self-love  contracts  the  heart,  and  is  the 
very  root  of  all  sin,  the  chief  wickedness  in 
our  corrupt  nature;  but  the  love  of  God  as- 
similates the  soul  to  him,  makes  it  divine, 
and  therefore  bountiful,  full  of  love  to  all.  So 
these  two  contradict  not,  Love  the  Lord  with 
all  thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 
If  all  our  love  must  go  to  God,  what  re- 
mains, say  you,  for  our  neighbor?  Indeed, 
all  must  so  upward,  and  be  all  placed  on 
him,  and  thence  it  is  resounded  and  regulated 
downward  to  men,  according  to  his  will.  But 
self-love  brings  forth  pride,  and  cruelty,  and 
covetousness,  and  uncleanness,  and  disdain 
of  others,  and  all  such  kind  of  monsters;  so, 
it  is  the  main  breaking  of  the  law. 

All  that  can  be  said,  will  not  persuade  men 
to  this,  till  the  Lord  by  his  love  teach  it  and 
impress  it  on  the  heart.  Know  that  this  is 
the  badae  of  Christ's  followers,  and  his  great 
rule  and  law  given  to  them  :  and  if  you  will 
follow  him,  that  you  may  come  to  be  where 
he  is,  then  study  this,  that  as  our  Lord  Christ 
loved  us,  so,  also,  we  ought  to  love  one  an- 
other. 


SERMON  XI. 

GRAPES  FROM  THORNS. 

Great  and  various  are  the  evils  that  lodge 
within  the  heart  of  man.  Hence  proceed 
evil  thoui^hts,  adulteries,  rmirders,  and  many 
otner  mischiefs,  as  our  Savior  specifies  there, 
'Vlatt.  XV.  19:  they  come  fortli  apace,  and 
yet,  the  heart  is  not  emptied  of  them.  But 
was  this  heart  thus  at  first,  when  it  came 
newly  forth  of  the  hands  of  its  Maker  ? 
Surely  not.  Man  was  made  upright,  hut  he 
found  nut  many  inventions.  Eccl.  vii.  29. 
Soon  did  the  the  heart  find  the  way  to  cor- 
rupt itself:  but  to  renew  itself,  is  as  impossi- 
ble as  to  have  been  rhe  author  of  its  own  cro- 
■tion.  Easily  could  it  deface  the  precious 
characters  of  God's  image,  but  it  passes  the 
heart  of  men  and  angels  to  restore  them. 
Only  the  Son  of  God,  who  for  that  purpose 
look  on  him  our  nalure,  can  make  us,  accord- 
ing lo  the  apostle's  phrase,  partakers  of  the 
Divine  nalure.  It  is  he  aione  that  can  ban- 
vsh  those  unclean  spirits,  and  keep  possession 


that  they  return  no  more.  Have  not  they  made 
^  a  happy  change  of  guests,  who  have  those 
infernal  troops  turned  ou    of  doors,  and  the 
King  of  Glory  fixing  his  £ro-e  within  them* 
This  is  the  voice  of  the  g(>spel :  Lift  up  yow 
heads,  ye  gates,  and  be  ye  lift  ?.n,  ye  cverlas^ 
ing  doors,  that  the  King  cf  Ghry  may  enter 
in.  Psalm  xxiv.  7.    But  small  is  the  numbei 
of  those  who  open  where  this  voice  is  daily 
sounded.    Yea,  some  there  are,  who  grow 
I  worse  under  the  frequent  preaching  of  the 
I  word,  as  if  sin  were  emulous,  and,  as  is  said 
of  virtue,  would  grow  by  opposition.  The 
truth  is,  too  many  of  us  turn  those  serious  ex- 
ercises of  religion  into  an  idle  divertisement. 
'  Take  heed  that  formaliiy,  and  custom,  and 
(  novelty,  do  not  often  help  to  fill  up  many 
roorns  in  our  church.  It  were  indeed  a  breach 
of  charily,  to  entertain  the  I'ulness  of  your  as- 
semblies with  an  ill  construction:  no,  it  is 
'  to  be  commended.    Bnt  would  to  God  we 
were  more  careful  to  show  our  religion  in 
our  lives,  to  study  to  know  better  t'.ie  deceits 
and  impostures  of  our  own  hearts,  and  to 
gain  daily  more  victory  over  our  secret  and 
best  beloved  sins !    Let  our  intentions,  then 
be  to  meet  with  Christ  here,  and  to  admit 
him  gladly  to  dwell  and  rule  within  us. 
If  he  conquer  our  inward  enemies,  those 
without  shall  not  be  able  to  hurt  us.    If  he 
;  deliver  us  from  our  sinful  lusts,  he  will  stir 
■  our  own  distrustful  fears.    And  that  such 
may  be  the  fruits  of  our  meeting,  let  us  turn 
ourselves  toward  the  throne  of  grace,  with 
I  humble  prayer,  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ, 
the  righteous. 

Psalm  Ixxvi.  ]fl. 

Surely,  the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise  thee  :  the  re- 
mainder of  wratli  shall  thou  restrain. 

What  manner  of  man  is  this,  said  the  pas- 
sengers in  the  ship,  that  even  the  tcinds  and 
the  sea  obey  hirn  ?  Matt.  viii.  27.  Christ  sud- 
denly turns  a  great  tempest  into  a  greater 
calm.  Surely,  those  are  no  ordinary  words 
of  command,  which  swelling  waves  and  bois- 
terous winds,  in  the  midst  of  their  rage,  are 
forced  to  hear,  and  taught  to  undersian*!  and 
obey.  Therefore,  the  holding  of  the  seas  in 
the  hollow  of  his  hand,  the  bridling  of  the 
wind,  and  riding  upon  the  wings  of  it,  we 
find  peculiarly  attributed  to  the  Almighty. 
But  no  less,  if  not  more  wonderful,  is  another 

I  of  his  prerogatives,  to  wit,  his  sovereignty 
over  all  mankind,  over  the  divers  and  strange 

!  motions  of  the  heart  of  man.    Admirable  is 

'  it  to  govern  those,  both  in  respect  of  their 

'  multitude  and  irregularity.  Consider  we  what 
millions  of  men  dwell  at  once  upon  the  face 

j  of  the  earth,  and  again,  v/hat  troops  of  sev- 
eral imaginations  will  pass  through  the  fancy 

'  of  any  one  man,  within  the  compass  of  one 
day  ;  it  is  much  to  keep  eye  upon  them,  and 
to  behold  them  all  at  once,  :  ut  far  more  to 
command  and  control  them  lU.  Yet,  if  they 

,  were  all  loyal  and  willingly  obedient,  wer<» 


Psalm  Ixx  n.  10.] 


GRAPES  FRur.I  THORKS. 


they  tradable  anc!  aisily  curbed,  it  \vere 
more  easy  fcr  us  i  conceive  how  they 
inii^ht  be  o;overn  •(!.  but  to  jounj  and  over- 
rule the  unruly  heai..5  of  rH  an,  the  most  of 
whom  coniinually  ar  ;  eithei  plotting  or  act- 
ing ralxllion  agains  their  Lord,  to  make 
them  all  concur  and  mpet  at  last  in  one  end, 
can  not  be  done  but  by  a  po\^  er  and  a  wisdom 
that  are  both  infinite.  T  lat  God  whose 
name  we  often  mention,  but  seldom  think  on 
his  excellency,  is  aioiie  the  absolute  monarch 
of  men's  hearts,  and  the  ruler  of  all  their  mo- 
tions. He  hath  them  limited  while  they 
seem  most  free,  and  works  his  own  glory  out 
of  their  attempts,  while  they  strive  most  to 
dishonor  him.  Surely,  the;  wrath  of  inan 
shall  jiraise  tfiee. 

This  Psalm  is  made  up  of  two  different 
sorts  of  thoughts  ;  the  one  arising  out  of  par- 
ticular  experience,  and  the  other  out  of  a 
general  ductnne.  Those  drawn  from  expe- 
rience, are  set  down  in  the  verses  preceding 
the  text  :  and  in  it,  with  those  that  follow,  is 
contained  the  doctrine,  with  a  duty  annexed 
to  it,  which  two  are  faith's  main  supporters. 
Past  experiences  verify  the  doctrine,  and  the 
generality  of  the  doctrine  serves  to  explain 
the  particular  experiences  to  all  wise  observ- 
ers. There  is  noi  a  treasure  of  the  merits  of 
saints  in  the  church,  as  some  dream,  but 
there  is  a  treasure  of  ihc  pTevAuus  experiences 
of  the  saints,  which  every  believer  hath  right 
to  make  use  of;  and  these  we  should  be 
versed  in,  that  we  may  have  them  in  readi- 
ness at  hand,  in  time  of  need,  and  know  how 
to  use  them  to  draw  both  comfort  from  them 
to  ourselves,  and  arguments  to  use  with  God. 

The  words  contain  clearly  two  proposi- 
tions, both  of  them  concerning  the  u)rath  of 
man:  the  former  hath  the  event  of  it.  Surely 
the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise  thee  ;  the  lat- 
ter, the  limitation  of  it,  The  remainder  of 
wrath  thou  wilt  restrain. 

That  the  virtues  and  graces  of  men  do 
praise  the  Lord,  all  men  easily  understand, 
for  they  flow  from  him:  his  image  and  su- 
persM-i()tion  are  upon  them,  and  therefore  no 
wonder  if  he  has  from  them  a  tribute  of  glo- 
ry. Who  kn(jws  not  that  luth  praises  him  ? 
Aliraham  believed  and  ga'ie  ghfy  to  God. 
Rom.  IV.  20.  Good  works,  the  fruits  of  faith, 
praise  him  loo.  Herein  is  ray  father  glori- 
fied, says  our  Savior,  t/>s't  ys  hear  much  fruit. 
John  XV.  8.  But  that  le  inordinate  wrath 
Df  man  should  praise  him.  may  seem  some- 
what strange.  Were  it  (rod's  own  wrath 
(since  wrath  is  aitriliuied  to  him  in  Scripture), 
that  miuht  praise  him,  for  it  is  always  most 
just.  Or  were  it  a  due  and  moderate  anger 
of  man,  upon  just  cause,  that  were  fit  for 
praising  him  too,  in  despiie  of  the  stoics. 
But  that  wicked  and  disorder  id  wrath  (which 
is  undoubtedly  here  meant),  that  the  wrath 
of  men,  which  is  both  vinccmiely  and  dishon- 
oralile  for  themselves,  lliougt  they  think  oth- 
erwise, that  even  such  a  wruh  should  honor 
iod  and  praise  him,  ar^^uos  veil  both  that  he 


nath  good  right  to  praises,  when  everythinjT 
even  things  that  seem  contrary  to  his  nature 
;  as  well  as  to  his  law,  do  pay  them  to  him 
i  and  that  he  hath  great  power  and  wisdom 
I  ffho  obtains  what  is  due  to  him  even  I'roni 
I  those  persons  and  things  which  of  them- 
i  selves  are  most  unwilling  and  unfit  to  pay  it 
j  This  is  the  excellent  skill  of  his  wisdom,  to 
I  draw  that  which  shall  go  into  the  making  up 
I  of  the  precious  composition  of  his  praise,  out 
I  of  this  poison:  for  so  the  word  here  used  for 
I  uralhful  heat,  doth  sometimes  signify.  And 
I  ;liis  wrath  often  proves  so,  a  deadly  poison 
both  to  those  it  is  incensed  against,  and  ta 
the  very  breast  that  breeds  it,  and  wherein  it 
is  kindled. 

But  lor  the  clearer  understanding  of  thiSj 
I  conceive  it  will  be  requisite  to  consider 
more  distinctly,  first,  what  this  ivrath  of  man 
is  ;  secondly,  how  it  can  praise  God ;  and 
lastly,  the  infallibility  of  this  event.  Surely 
the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise  thee. 

I.  In  the  cxlviiith  Psalm,  where  David 
i  summons  the  creatures  to  meet  in  that  song' 
'  of  praise,  to  keep  that  full  concert,  he  calls 
'  not  only  the  heavens  and  the  inhabitants  of 
it,  angels  and  lights,  but  those  of  the  lower 
'  world  to  bear  their  pan  in  it ;  and  not  only 
,  men,  beasts,  cattle,  creeping  things,  and  the 
flying  fowl,  but  those  creatures  which  do 
'  most  resemble  this  wrath  here  spoken  ot 
I  fire,  stormy  tempest,  and  dragons,  ^f-  The 
1  tenor  of  this  Psalm  doth  show,  that  by  the 
wrath  of  man  is  to  be  understood  the  undue 
rage  of  evil  and  ungodly  men  against  those 
whom  God  owns  for  his  people.    The  word 
here  used,  signifies  a  hot  or  injlamrn>^  wrath  ; 
and  indeed  such  is  the  feverish,  distempered 
anger  of  the  church's  enemies.    And  as  too 
much  heat  is  an  enemy  to  solid  reason,  this 
hot  wrath  of  theirs  makes  them  incapable  of 
wise  deliberation  in  themselves,  and  inflexi- 
^  ble  to  the  good  advice  of  others.    It  is  true 
1  they  take  counsel  how  to  execute  their  wrath, 
as  we  shall  hear  anon,  but  they  take  no 
counsel  that  may  cool  it.    An^er,  described, 
•by  its  material  cause,  is  called  a  boiling  of 
the  blood  about  the  heart  ;  but  this  ariseth 
from  the  apprehension  of  something  offen- 
I  sive,  kindling  a  desire  of  revenge.    Now  it  is 
\  a  wonder  what  the  powers  of  ihe  world  find 
I  in  Christ  and  his  harmless  flock,  that  can  in- 
cense them.    St.  James  says  of  the  tongue, 
'  that  it  is  set  on  fire  of  hell.   The  same  is  the 
I  origin  of  this  wrath.    Why  do  the  Kzathen 
rage  ?  saith  the  psalmist,  Psalm  ii  That 
j  !s,  not  only  to  what  purpose,  intimating  that 
!t  is  a  fruitless  rage,  and  void  of  success,  in 
j  regard  of  God's  power,  but  Why,  that  is, 
I  upon  what  occasion,  checking  the  rage  as 
groundless  and  without  cause,  in  regard  of 
Christ  and  his  church's  innoceiicy.  The  cause 
is  only  within  ihemselves,  to  wit,  that  unhap- 
py aniii)atliy  of  the  serpent's  seed  a<rainst  the 
seed  ol'lhe  woman.   Thus,  this  wrath  of  man 
is,  the  causeless,  malicious  enmity  of  the 
I  wicked  against  the  church  ot  God.    And  uu' 


492 


GRAPES  FROM  THORNS. 


[See.  XI 


der  the  name  of  this  passion  I  take  to  be 
here  couipiised  likewise,  all  the  attendants 
of  it,  all  their  crafty  cunii>lotTiieuts  and  devi- 
ces for  the  acting  of  their  wrath.  As  there 
is  mention  of  the  nation's  ragea^'ainst  Christ, 
in  the  second  Psalm,  so,  likewise,  of  the  con- 
sultations of  those  who  are  of  quality  fit  for 
it:  The  tillers  take  counsel  loi>elher.  Fur- 
ther, this  wrath  is  not  barely  their  inward 
fire,  but  the  vent  of  it,  when  it  flames  into 
cruel  and  nuirageous  practices,  including  like- 
wise all  the  instruments  they  make  use  of 
And  of  all  these  it  is  true,  that  God  shall 
gain  glory  by  them.  Surely,  the  wrath  of  man 
shall  praise  thee.  « 

The  wrath  of  man,  says  the  apostle,  accom- 
plishelh  not  the  righteousness  of  God.  Jam. 
i.  20.  How,  then,  can  it  accomplish  his 
praises  ?  And  this  is  the  Ild  thing  pro- 
pounded. 

Are  grapes  gathered  of  thorns,  or  f  gs  of 
thistles  ?  Surely  not.  Therefore  I  called  this 
phrase  not  the  fruit  or  proper  effect  of  man's 
wrath,  but  the  event  or  consequent  of  it,  by 
the  efficacy  of  Divine  providence.  The  wrath 
of  man  shall  praise  thee.  That  is,  the  use 
which  thou  wilt  make  of  it,  shall  tend  to  thy 
praise.  Thou  wilt  produce  such  effects  from 
it,  both  in  the  church  and  upon  thine  enemies, 
when  thou  sulfercst  thy  wrath  to  break  forth, 
as  shall  furnish  more  matter  of  thy  praises 
than  if  thou  hadst  altogether  restrained  it. 
To  instance  this  in  some  few  particulars : — 

It  is  the  fury  of  the  church's  enemies,  that 
has  made  known  to  the  world  the  invincible 
courage  and  patience  of  the  satnls.  Those 
ages  which  have  been  most  monstrous  in  per- 
secution, have  most  of  all  graced  Christianity. 
Had  there  been  no  persecuting  emperors,  who 
would  have  beard  of  those  primitive  martyrs 
who  triumphed  over  the  cruelty  (;f  their  tor- 
ments ?  Were  there  no  persecution,  or  peril, 
nor  sword,  against  believers,  we  should  not 
have  heard  the  apostle  say,  immediately  after 
the  mention  of  those.  In  all  these  we  are  more 
than  conquerors.  They  could  not  have  been 
so  much  as  conquerors  had  there  been  no  con- 
flicl. 

Again,  as  the  wrath  of  man  praises  God  in 
the  invincihle  patience  of  the  saints,  so,  like- 
wist,  in  the  immoveable  stalnlify  of  the  church. 
Is  it  not  wonderful  how  so  small  and  weak  a 
company  as  the  church  hath  often  been  re- 
duced to,  yea,  hath  always  been  in  respect  of 
the  world,  could  escape  the  mouths  of  so 
many  lions,  so  many  enraged  enemies  that 
were  ready  to  devour  it?  And  that  we  may 
see  that  this  tends  solely  to  the  praise  of  her 
great  Protector,  look  to  the  church's  song 
penned  by  the  royal  prophet ;  it  is  the  cxxivth 
Psaim  :  If  it  had  not  been  the  Lord  thai  was 
on  our  side,  when  men  rose  up  against  us, 
ihen  they  had  swallowed  us  up  quick.  The 
great  monarchies  and  kingdoms  of  the  world, 
wJiicli  have  risen  with  so  much  splendor, 
havj  lind  their  periods  and  been  buried  in  the 
dual.    That  golden-headed  and  silver-bodied  , 


image  degenerated  into  wor^e  metal  as  it 
went  lower,  and  the  brittle  feet  were  the 
cause  of  the  fall  and  breaking  of  all  the  rest. 
But  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ,  though  des- 
picable in  the  wxirld,  and  exposed  to  the 
wrath  of  the  world  in  all  ages,  staniis  firm 
and  cai\  not  be  removed.  There  is  a  conmion 
emblem  of  the  winds  blowing  from  all  quar- 
ters, and  upon  the  globe  of  the  earth,  being 
in  the  middle  of  them,  is  written  Immobilts. 
This  fitly  resembles  the  church.  Why,  it 
seems  to  be  the  sport  of  all  the  winds,  but  is 
indeed  so  established,  that  all  of  them,  yea, 
the  very  gaits  of  hell  can  nol  prevail  against 
it.  Now,  the  more  the  church's  enemies  la- 
bor  and  moil  themselves  to  undo  her,  the 
more  do  their  weakness  and  the  power  of  her 
Lord  appear ;  so  that  thus  the  wrath  of  man 
dolh  praise  him. 

When  was  the  church  free  from  the  world's 
wrath  ?  To  say  nothing  of  the  church  of  the 
Jews,  did  not  those  wicked  emperors  of  Rome 
think  to  have  made  the  Christian  cburCii 
short-lived,  to  have  drowned  her  newly-born 
in  floods  of  her  own  blood  ?  And  in  latter 
ages,  who  knows  not  the  cruelties  that  have 
been  practised  by  the  Turk  in  the  East,  and 
the  proud  prelate  of  Rome  in  the  West  ?  By 
which  she  hath  sometimes  been  brought  to 
so  obscure  and  low  a  point,  that  if  you  can 
follow  her  in  history,  it  is  by  the  track  of  her 
blood  ;  and  if  you  would  see  her,  it  is  by  the 
light  of  those  fires  in  which  her  martyrs  have 
been  burnt.  Yet  hath  she  still  come  through 
and  survived  all  that  wrath,  and  still  shall 
survive,  till  she  be  made  perfectly  triumph- 
ant. 

Further  :  men's  wrath  tends  to  God's  praise 
in  this,  that  God,  giving  way  to  it,  doth  so 
manage  it  by  his  sublime  providence,  that  it 
often  directly  crosses  their  own  ends,  and  con- 
duces manifestly  to  his.  Pharaoh  thought 
that  his  dealing  more  cruelly  with  the  Jews 
in  their  tasks  and  burdens,  was  wisdom  :  Let 
us  work  wisely,  says  he.  But  whereas  their 
ordinary  servility  was  become  familiar  to 
them,  and  they  were  tamed  to  it,  that  same 
accession  of  new  tyranny  did  prepare  and 
dispose  the  Israelites  for  a  desire  of  de- 
parture, and  their  departure  made  way  for 
Pharaoh's  destruction.  Undigestible  insolen- 
cy  and  rage,  hastening  to  be  great,  make 
kingdoms  cast  them  off,  which  would  have 
been  far  longer  troubled  with  their  wicked- 
ness, bad  it  been  more  moderate.  Surely, 
then,  the  wrath  of  man  commends  the  wis- 
dom of  (lod,  when  he  makes  him  by  that  con- 
trive and  afford  the  means  of  his  own  down- 
fall. The  steps  of  his  ttrength  shall  he  strait- 
ened, and  his  own  counsel  shall  cast  him  down, 
fays  Bildad,  Job  xviii  7.  And  that  is  a  sad 
fall  ;  as  that  eagle  that  was  shot  with  an  ar- 
row trimmed  with  her  own  feathers. 

But  to  close  this  point.  It  is  out  of  all 
question,  that  the  deserved  punishment  of 
man's  unjust  wrath  doth  always  glorify  tiie 
justice  of  God  ;  and  the  more  he  gives  way 


Psalm  Ixxvi.  10.] 


GRAPKS  FROM  THORNS. 


to  their  wrath,  the  more  notable  shall  be  both 
their  punishment  and  the  justice  of  it.  And 
though  God  seems  neglective  of  his  people 
and  of  his  praise,  while  man's  wrath  prevails, 
yet  the  truth  is,  he  never  comes  too  late  to 
vindicate  his  care  of  b&ih  ;  and  when  he  defers 
longest,  the  enemy  pays  dear  interest  for  the 
time  of  forbearance.  In  his  eternal  decree, 
he  resolved  to  permit  the  course  of  man's 
■.fraih  for  liis  own  glory,  and  when  the  period 
which  he  hath  fixed  is  come,  he  stops  man's 
wrath,  and  gives  course  unto  the  justice  of  his 
own.  Nor  is  there,  then,  any  possibility  of 
escaping.  He  will  right  himself,  and  be 
knowi  by  executing  judgment.  Surely,  the 
wralli  of  man  shall  praise  thee. 

And  that  is  the  Hid  thing  propounded,  the 
infallibility  of  the  event. 

The  Author  of  nature  governs  all  his  crea- 
t.  res,  each  in  a  suitable  way  to  the  nature  he 
hath  given  them.  He  maintains,  in  some 
things,  a  riatural  necessity  of  working,  con- 
tingency in  others,  and  in  others,  liberty  ;  but 
all  of  them  are  subject  to  this  necessity  of  ef- 
fecting inevitably  his  eternal  purposes.  And 
this  necessity  is  no  way  repugnant  to  the  due 
liberty  of  man's  will.  Some  entertain  and 
maintain  the  truth  ;  some  plot,  others  act  and 
execute,  against  ii  ;  some  please  themselves 
with  a  wise  neutrality,  and  will  appear  so  in- 
different that  it  would  seem  they  might  be 
accepted  of  all  sides  for  judges  of  controver- 
sies. And  all  these  find  no  less  liberty  to  wind 
and  turn  themselves  whither  they  please, 
than  if  no  higher  hand  had  the  winding  of 
them.  Yet  shall  not  only  the  sea/  of  the  god- 
ly, but  even  the  wrath  of  the  enemy,  and  the 
cold  discretion  of  the  neutral,  all  tend  to  his 
praise  whose  supreme  will  will  have  a  secret, 
but  a  sure  and  infallible  sway  in  all  their  ac- 
tions. While  some  passengers  sit,  some  walk 
one  way,  some  another,  some  have  their  faces 
toward  their  journey's  end,  some  their  back 
turned  upon  it,  this  wise  Pilot  does  most  skil- 
fully guide  the  ship  to  arrive  with  them  all  at 
his  own  gl<jry.  Happy  they  who  propound 
and  intend  iiis  glory  as  he  himself  does,  for  in 
them  shall  the  riches  of  his  mercy  be  glori- 
fied !  They  who  oppose  him,  lose  this  happi- 
ness, but  lie  is  sure  not  to  lose  his  glory  for  all 
that,  to  wit,  the  glory  of  his  justice.  His  right 
hand  shall  find  out  all  his  enemies.  Surely, 
the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise  thee. 

The  consideration  of  this  truth,  thus  in 
some  measure  unfolded,  may  serve  to  justify 
the  truly  wise  dispensations  of  God  against 
our  imaginary  wisdom.  Were  the  matter  re- 
ferred to  our  modelling,  we  should  assign  the 
church  constant  peace  and  prosperity  for  her 
portion,  and  not  consent  that  the  least  air  of 
trouble  should  come  near  her  :  we  would  have 
TO  enemies  to  molest  her,  nor  stir  against  her, 
or  if  they  did  stir,  we  would  have  them  to  be 
presently  repressed  ;  and  these,  in  o'lr  judg- 
ment, would  be  the  fairest  and  most  glorious 
tokens  of  hii  love  and  power  whose  spouse 
she  is     JBui  this  carnaJ  wisdom  is  enmity 


against  God,  and  is  opposed  to  the  glory  of 
God,  which  rises  so  often  out  of  the  wrath  of 
his  enemies.  Had  GocT  caused  Pharaoh  to 
yield  at  the  very  first  to  the  release  of  his  peo- 
ple, where  had  been  the  fame  of  those  mirac- 
ulous judgments  in  Egypt,  and  those  mercies 
I  on  the  Israelites,  the  one  setting  out  and  illus- 
trating the  other  ?  Where  had  been  that 
1  name  and  honor  which  God  says  he  would 
1  gain  to  himself,  and  which  he  did  gain  out 
j  of  Pharaoh's  final  destruction,  making  that 
stony-hearted  king  and  his  troops  sink  like  a 
stone  in  the  waters,  as  Moses  sings  ?  Observe 
I  his  proud  boastings  immediately  foregoing 
his  ruin  :  /  will  pursue,  says  he,  I  will  over- 
take, I  will  divide  the  spoil  ;  my  lust  shall  be 
satisfied  on  them:  I  will  draw  my  sword,  and 
my  hand  shall  destroy  them.  Soon  after,  the 
sea  quenches  all  this  heat.  Commonly,  big 
threatenings  are  unhappy  presages  of  very  ill 
success.  That  i  .storian  [Herodotus]  says  well 
of  God,  Deus  neminem  alium,  c/uam  seipsum, 
sinit  de  se  rnagnifice  sentire  :  God  suffers  nc 
other  to  think  highly  of  himself,  thasi  him- 
self alone.  And  indeed,  as  he  abhors  those 
boastings,  so  he  delights  in  the  abasing  of  the 
lofty  heart  whence  they  flow,  and  it  is  his 
prerogative  tojgain  praise  to  himself  out  of 
their  wrath.  Hast  thou  an  arm  like  God? 
says  the  Lord  to  Job,  then,  look  upon  the 
proud  and  bring  them  low.  Job  xl.  9,  12. 
When  Sennacherib  came  up  against  Jerusa- 
lem, his  blasphemies  and  boastings  were  no 
less  vast  and  monstrous  than  the  number  of 
his  men  and  chariots.  Good  Hczekiah  turned 
over  the  matter  unto  God,  spreading  the  let- 
ter of  blasphemies  before  him,  upon  which 
God  undertook  the  war,  and  assured  Heze- 
kiah  that  the  As'syrian  should  not  so  much  as 
shoot  an  arrow  against  the  city,  but  return 
the  same  wify  he  came.  2  Kings  xix.  33.  And 
the  deliverance  there  promised  and  effected, 
is  conceived  to  have  been  the  occasion  of  pen- 
ning this  very  Psalm.  Surely,  when  an  angel 
did  in  one  night  slay  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
five  thousand  in  their  camps,  that  wrath  and 
those  threats  tended  exceedingly  to  the  praise 
of  the  God  of  Israel.  The  hook  that  he  put  in 
Sennacherib's  nostrils  (as  the  liistory  speaks), 
to  pull  him  back  again,  was  more  remarkable 
than  the  fetters  would  have  been,  if  he  had 
tied  him  at  home,  or  hindered  his  march  with 
his  army. 

Who  is  he  then  that  will  be  impatient  be- 
cause of  God's  patience,  and  judge  him  slack 
in  judgment,  while  the  rage  of  the  wicked 
prevails  awhile  ?  Know,  that  he  is  more 
careful  of  his  own  glory  than  we  can  be,  and 
the  greater  height  man's  wrath  arises  to,  tlie 
more  honor  shall  arise  to  him  out  of  it.  Did 
not  his  omnipotency  shine  brighter  in  the 
flames  of  that  furnace  into  which  the  three 
children  were  cast,  than  if  the  king's  wrath 
had  been  at  first  cooled  ?  Certainly,  the  more 
both  it  and  the  furnace  had  their  heat  aug- 
mented, the  more  was  God  glorified.  Who  is 
that  God,  saith  he,  blasphemously  and  proud- 


GRAPES  FROM  THORNS. 


|i?ER.  XI 


'\  .  that  can  ilf/ivcr  you  out  of  mi/ honds  ? 
IJ^-ji.  iii.  15.  A  ([lu'stioii,  iiidocd,  hia;-lily  dis- 
rio  lorina:  tlie  Aliiiiiility,  but  siay  till  llu'  real 
am  WIT  ccnip  :  and  liien,  not  only  shall  that 
wrrth  praise  him,  hut  that  very  same  tongue, 
though  inured  to  hlaspherny,  shall  he  taught 
to  b<?ar  a  main  part  in  the  confession  of  those 
prai.-ies.  Let  that  apostate  emperor  [Julian] 
go  taunting  the  Head  and  tormenting  the 
menibers  of  that  mystical  body,  his  closing 
with  'EfUnTti  rnXiXiirt,  Thou  host  overcome,  O 
Ga/iiean  (meaning  Christ),  shall  help  to  veri- 
fy thbit,  whether  its  course  be  shorter  or  long- 
er, man's  wrath  ends  always  in  God's  praise. 
In  lik'' manner,  the  closing  of  the  lions'  mouth 
Si)ak£  louder  to  his  [iraise  who  stopped  them 
than  li"  he  had  stopjied  Daniel's  enemies  in 
the  beginnina  of  their  wicked  design.  So  hot 
was  their  rage,  that  the  king's  favorable  in- 
clination to  Daniel  (of  which,  in  other  cases, 
courtiers  used  to  be  so  devout  observers),  yea, 
his  cotitesiing  and  pleading  for  him,  did  i)rofit 
him  nothing,  hut  they  hurried  their  king  to 
the  execution  of  their  unjust  malice,  though 
themselves  were  convinced  that  nothing  could 
be  t'ound  against  him,  but  only  concerning //je 
law  o  f  his  Gorl.  Dan.  vi.  5.  It  is  said,  ver.  14, 
that  King  Darius  set  his  heart  on  Daniel  to 
deliver  him,  and  he  labored  to  do  it  till  the 
going  down  of  the  sun,  and  then  those  coun- 
sellors and  counsels  of  darkness  overcame 
him.  But  upon  this  black  night  of  their  pre- 
vailing wrath,  followed  a  bright  morning  of 
praises  to  Daniel's  God  vr  hen  the  lions  that 
were  so  quiet  company  all  night  to  Daniel, 
nrade  so  quick  a  breakfast  of  those  accursed 
courtiers  who  had  maliciously  accused  him. 
Even  so  let  thine  enemies  perish,  0  Lord,  and 
lit  those  that  love  thee  be  as  the  sun  when  he 
goes  forth  in  his  might  ! 

The  other  proposition  concerns^hc  limiting 
of  his  wrath  :  The  remainder  of  wrath  thou 
wilt  restrain. 

To  take  no  notice,  for  the  present,  of  divers 
other  readings  of  these  words,  the  sense  of 
them,  as  thevare  here  very  well  rendered,  may 
be  briefly  this  :  that  whereas  the  wrath  of 
man  lo  which  God  gives  way,  shall  praise  him, 
the  rest  shall  be  curbed  and  bound  up,  as  the 
word  is  ;  no  more  of  it  shall  break  forth  than 
shall  contribute  to  his  glory.  Here  should  be 
considered  divers  ways  and  means  by  which 
God  uscth  to  stop  the  heady  course  of  man's 
wrath,  and  hinder  its  proceeding  any  further; 
but  only,  for  the  present,  let  us  take  out  of 
it  this  lesson,  that  the  most  compendious  way 
to  be  safe  from  the  violence  of  men,  is  to  be 
on  terms  of  friendship  with  God. 

Is  it  not  an  incomparable  privilege,  to  be 
in  the  favor  and  under  the  protection  of  One, 
whose  power  is  so  transcendent  that  no  ene- 
my can  so  much  as  stir  without  his  leave  ? 
Bt  persuaded,  then.  Christians,  in  these  dan- 
gers that  are  now  so  near  us,  every  one  to 
draw  near  to  him.  Remove  what  may  pro- 
voke him.  Let  no  reigning  sin  be  fou»d  ei- 
ther iu  your  cities  or  in  your  villages,  for  he 


is  a  holy  God.^     it  a  time  to  multiply  jirov 
ocations  now,  or  is  it  not  rather  high  time  la 
be  humbled  for  the  former?    What  shame- 
less impiety  is  it,  to  be  now  licentious  or 
intemperate,  to  be  proud,  to  oppress  or  ex- 
tort, to  profane  (^od's  day,  and  blaspheme 
his  name  I    All  these  sins,  and  many  others, 
abound  among  us,  and  that  avowedly.  With- 
out abundance  of  repentance  i'or  these,  we 
shall  smart,  and  the  wrath  of  our  enemies, 
though  unjust  in  them,  shall  praise  God  in 
our  just  punishment:  thouah. doubtless,  he  will 
own  his  churcii,  and  be  praised  likewise  in 
the  final  punishment  of  their  wrath  who  rise 
against  it.    There  is  a  remarkable  expres- 
sion in  the  ninety-ninth  Psalm,  of  God's  deal- 
ing with  his  people  :  Thou  u-ast  a  God  thai 
forgaresl   Ihim,  though    thou  toakest  ven- 
geance on  their  inventions.  A  good  cause  anc" 
a  covenant  with  God,  will  not  shelter  an 
impenitent  people  from  sharper  correction. 
It  is  a  sad  word  God  speaks  by  his  prophet 
to  his  own  people  :  I  myself  will  figh  t  against 
you,    Jer.  x.xi.  5.    A  dreadful  enemy  .'  and 
none,  indeed,  are  truly  dreadful  but  he.  Oh! 
prevent  his  anger,  and  you  arc  safe  enough. 
If  perverse  sinners  Avill  not  hear,  yet,  let 
those  who  are  indeed  Christians,  mourn  in 
secret,  not  only  for  their  own  sins,  but  let 
them  bestow  some  tears  likewise  upon  the 
sins  of  others.    Labor  to  appease  the  wrath, 
of  God,  and  he  will  either  appease  man's 
wrath,  or,  liowsoever,  will  turn  it  jointly  to 
our  benefit  and  his  own  glory.    Let  the  fear 
of  the  most  high  God,  who  hath  no  less  pow- 
er of  the  strongest  of  his  enemies,  than  over 
the  meanest  of  liis  servants;  let  his  fear,  I 
say,  possess  all  our  hearts,  and  it  will  cer- 
tainly expel  that  ignoble  and  base  fear  of  the 
wrath  of  man.    See  how  the  proi)het  oppo- 
ses them,  Isa.  viii.  12.    Fear  riot  their  fears 
says  he,  nor  be  afraid  ;  but  sanctify  the  Lord 
of  hosts  himself,  and  let  him  be  your  fear, 
and  let  him  be  your  dread.    Fear  not,  yet 
fear.  This  holy  fear  begets  the  best  courage  : 
the  breast  that  is  most  filled  with  it,  abounds 
most  in  true  magnanimity.    Fear  thus,  that 
you   may  be  confident,  not  in  yourselves, 
though  your  policy  and  strength  were  great, 
for  cursed  is  the  man  that  irusteth  in  man, 
and  maketh  flesh  his  arm,  but  confident  in 
that  God  who  is  too  wise  and  vigilant  to  be 
surprised,  loo  mighty  to  be  foiled,  and  too 
rich  to  be  outspent  in  provision  ;  who  can 
suffer  his  enemy  to  come  to  the  highest  point 
of  apparent  advantage,  without  any  incon- 
venience, yea,  with  more  renown  in  his  con- 
quest. And  so,  a  Christian  who  is  made  once 
sure  of  this  (as  easily  he  may),  is  little  care- 
ful about  the  rest.    His  love  to  (iod  prevail- 
ing over  all  his  aflfections,  makes  him  very 
indifi'erent  what  becomes  of  himself  or  his 
dearest  friends,  so  God  may  be  glorified 
What  though    many  fall    in  the  quarr 
(which  God  avert  !)  yet,  it  is  sufficient  th 
truth  in  the  end  shall  be  victorious.  Hav 
not  the  saints  in  all  ages  been  content  to  con- 


"psAi  ii  cxii.  7. J 


THE  BELIEVER  A  HERO. 


49: 


vey  pure  religion  to  posterity,  in  streams  of 
their  own  blood,  not  of  others?  Well,  hold 
fast  by  this  conclusion,  that  God  can  limit 
and  bind  up  the  most  violent  wrath  of  man, 
so  that,  thougii  it  swell,  it  will  not  break 
forth.  The  stiffesi  heart,  as  the  current  of 
the  most  impetuous  rivers,  is  in  his  hand,  to 
appoint  its  channels,  and  turn  il  as  he  pleas- 
eth.  Yea,  it  is  he  that  hath  shut  up  the  very 
sea  with  bars  and  doors,  and  said.  Hitherto 
shait  thou  come  and  no  farther,  here  shall  ihy 
■j^roud  waves  be  stayed.  Job  xxxviii.  10,  11. 
To  see  the  surges  of  a  rough  sea  come  in 
toward  the  shore,  a  man  would  think  that 
they  were  hasieningto  swallow  up  the  land  ; 
but  they  know  their  limits,  and  are  beaten 
back  into  foam.  Though  the  waves  thereof 
toss  themselves,  as  angry  at  their  restraint, 
yet,  the  small  sand  is  a  check  to  the  great 
sea,  yet  can  they  not  prevail :  though  they 
roar,  yet  can  thei/  not  pass  over  it.  Jer.  v.  22. 

The  sum  is  this:  what  God  permits  his 
church's  enemies  to  do,  is  for  his  own  further 
glory;  and  reserving  tiiis,  there  is  not  any 
wrath  of  man  so  great,  but  he  will  either 
sweetly  calm  it,  or  strongly  restrain  it.  To 
him  be  praise  and  dominion  for  ever. 


SERMON  Xn. 


THE  BELIEVER  A  HERO. 


Psalm  cxii.  7. 

He  shall  not  be  afriiid  of  evil  tidings  ;  his  heart  is 
fixed,  trusting  in  the  Lord. 

All  the  special  designs  of  men  agree  in 
this  ;  they  seek  satisfaction  aftd  quietness  of 
mind,  that  is,  happiness.  This,  then,  is  the 
great  question.  Who  is  the  happy  man  ?  It 
is  here  resolved,  ver.  1  :  Bleased  is  the  man 
thai  feareth  the  Lord,  that  delighteth  in  his 
Commandments. 

The  blessedness  is  unfolded,  like  a  rich 
landscape,  that  we  may  view  ihe  well-mixed 
colors,  the  story  and  tissue  of  it,  through  the 
whole  alphahei  in  capital  letters.  And  take 
all  and  set  them  together,  it  is  a  most  full 
and  complete  blessedness,  not  a  letter  want- 
ing to  it.*  Among  the  rest,  that  which  we 
ha  ve  in  these  words,  is  of  a  greater  magni- 
tude and  brightness  than  many  of  the  rest. 
He  shall  not  lie  afraid  of  evil  things. 

Well  may  the' Psalm' begin  with  a  Halle- 
lujah, a  note  of  praise  to  him  in  whom  this 
blessedness  lies.  Oh,  what  a  wretched  crea- 
ture were  man,  if  not  provided  with  such  a 
portion  !  Without  which  there  is  nothing 
but  disappointment,  and  thence  the  racking 

*  Tliis  Pstilrn,  in  the  Ifclirew,  consists  of  twenty- 
two  short  verses  each  of  whi^  begins  with  one  of 
the  letters  of  the  .iljjhabet  in  mTir  order,  tiU  they  are  , 
all  ended.  No  one  letter  is  here  omitted,  us  is  the 
case  in  the  xxt  th  Psalm,  where  the  same  order  is  ob. 
kerved.  1 


torment  and  vexatitm  of  a  disquieted  mir.d 
still  pursuing  somewhat  that  he  never  over 
takes. 

The  first  words  are  the  inscription,  Tht 
blessedness  of  that  man,  &c.  So,  the  partic 
ulars  follow  ;  where  outward  blessings  are  so 
set,  as  that  they  look  and  lead  higher,  point- 
ing at  their  end,  the  infinite  goodness  whence 
they  flow,  and  whither  they  return  and  car- 
ry along  with  them  this  happy  man. 

And  these  promises  of  outward  things  are 
often  evidently  accomplished  to  the  righte- 
ous, and  their  seed  after  them,  and  that, 
commonly,  after  they  have  been  brought 
very  low.  But  when  it  is  otherwise  with 
them,  they  lose  nothing.  It  is  good  for  many, 
vea,  it  is  good  for  all  the  godly,  that  they 
should  have  less  of  these  lower  things,  in  or- 
der to  raise  their  eye  to  look  after  higher — ■ 
the  eye  of  all,  both  of  those  who  are  held 
somewhat  short,  and  of  those  that  have  abun- 
dance in  the  world. 

These  temporal  promises  were  more  aboun- 
ding, and  more  frequently  fulfilled  in  theit 
very  kind,  in  the  times  of  the  law  :  yet,  stil 
the  right  is  constant,  and  all  ages  do  givt 
clear  examples  of  the  truth  of.  this  word 
Where  it  is  thus,  it  is  a  blessing  created  by 
its  aspect  to  this  promise,  and  so  diflfers  frorr 
the  prosperity  of  ungodly  men;  and  where 
it  is  otherwise  with  the  ri<rhteous  and  the", 
seed,  it  is  no  shift,  but  a  most  solid  comfor 
to  turn  their  eyes  to  a  higher  compensation. 

But,  howsoever  it  go  with  them,  this  s(. , 
holds.  He  shall  not  he  afraid  of  evil  tidings 
Notwithstanding  the  hardest  news  that  ca  . 
come  lo  his  ears,  of  anything  that  concern 
either  himself  or  his  children,  or  the  rest  of 
God's  children  in  his  charge,  in  the  world, 
I  his  heart  is  fixed,  trusting  in  the  Lord. 

First,  let  us  take  a  view  of  the  characlei 
of  this  blessed  man.  Who  is  it  that  is  thus 
undaunted  ?  The  man  that  feareth  God. 
I  All  the  passions  are  but  several  ebbings 
I  and  flowings  of  the  soul,  and  their  motions 
are  the  signs  of  its  temper,  which  way  it  is 
carried  ;  that  is  mainly  to  be  remarked  by 
the  beating  of  its  pulse.  If  our  desires,  anc 
hopes,  and  fears,  be'  in  the  things  of  th. 
world,  and  the  interests  of  flesh,  tiiis  is  tlieii 
distemper  and  disorder,  the  soul  is  in  a  con 
linua!  fever.  But  if  they  move  Godward, 
then  it  is  composed  and  calm,  in  a  good  tem- 
per and  healthful  state,  fearing  and  loving 
him,  desirinjr  him,  and  nothing  but  him, 
waiting-  for  him.  and  trusting  in  him.  And 
when  any  one  aff'ection  is  right  and  in  a  due 
aspect  to  God,  all  the  rest  are  so  too  ;  lor 
they  are  radically  one.  And  he  is  the  life  of 
that  soul  which  is  united  to  him  ;  and  so,  in 
him,  it. moves  in  a  peculiar  spiritual  manner, 
as  all  do  naturally  in  the  dependance  of  their 
natural  life  on  him  who  is  the  Fountain  of 
life. 

Thus  we  have  here  this/er/r  of  God,  as  oft- 
en elsewhere,  set  out  as  the  very  subsiancc  of 
holiness  and  evidence  of  happiness.  And  that 


496 


THE  BELIEVER  A  HERO. 


\ii£R.  XTI. 


we  may  know  there  is  nothing  cither  base  or 
grievous  in  this  fear,  we  have  joined  with  it, 
dtlti^ht  and  trust  :  That  (ic!ii;/il(  t/i  ^rcathj 
in  his  cominandtncnts  :  whicii  is  lliat  badire 
of  love  to  liini,  to  observe  them,  and  that 
with  delifrbt,  and  wiih  exceedmji  preat  de- 
light. So  then,  this  fear  is  not  that  wliicli  love 
casts  out,  but  tiiat  wliich  h)ve  brings  in.  This 
fear  follows  and  flows  from  love.  It  is  a  fear 
to  olTeiid,  whereof  nothing  is  so  tender  as 
love,  and  that,  in  respect  of  the  greatness  of 
God,  hath  in  it  withal  an  humble  reverence. 
There  is  in  all  love  a  kind  of  reverence,  a 
cautious  and  respective  wariness  toward  the 
party  loved  ;  hut  especially  in  this,  where 
not  only  we  stand  in  a  lower  relation,  as 
children  to  our  Father,  but  the  goodness 
which  draws  our  love  doth  infinitely  tran- 
scend our  measures  and  reach  :  therefore, 
there  is  a  rejoicing  with  trcmhling,  and  an 
awful  love,  n  fcarine  the  Lord  find  his  good- 
ness. Hos.  iii.  5.  This  is  both  fear  and 
trust.  The  heart  touched  by  the  spirit  of  God, 
as  the  needle  touched  with  the  loadstone, 
looks  straight  and  speedily  to  God,  yet  still 
with  trembling,  being  filled  with  this  holy 
fear. 

That  delighteth.  Oh  I  this  is  not  only  to 
do  them,  but  to  do  them  with  delight:  there 
is  somewhat  within  that  is  connatural  and 
symbolical  with  them.  Yea,  this  very  law 
itself  is  writ  within,  not  standing  as  a  hard 
taskmaster  over  our  head,  but  impressed 
within,  as  a  sweet  principle  in  our  hearts, 
md  working  thence  naturally.  This  makes 
d  soul  find  pleasure  in  the  purging  out 
of  sensual  pleasures,  and  ease  in  doing  vio- 
lence to  corrupt  self,  even  undoing  it  for  God, 
havin?  no  will  but  his.  The  remainders  of 
sin  and  self  in  our  flesh,  will  be  often  rising 
up,  but  this  predominant  love  dispels  them. 
So,  this  fear  works  with  delight. 

And  further,  that  we  may  know  how  se- 
rene and  sweet  a  thing  it  is,  it  is  here  like- 
wise joined  with  confidence,  trusting  in  the 
Lord  ;  a  quickening  confidence  always  ac- 
companying it,  and  so,  undoubtedly,  it  is  a 
blessed  thing.  Blessed  is  he  that  feareth. 
Fear  sounds  rather  quite  contrary,  hath  an 
air  of  misery  :  but  add,  whom  ?  That  fear- 
elk  the  Lord.  That  touch  turns  it  into  gold. 
He  that  so  fears,  fears  not :  He  shall  not  he 
afraid.  All  petty  fears  are  swallowed  up  in 
his  great  fear,  as  a  spirit  inured  with  great 
nings,  is  not  stirred  nor  affected  at  all  with 
small  matters.  And  this  great  fear  is  as 
sweet  and  pleasing  as  those  little  fears  are 
anxious  and  vexing.  Secure  of  other  things, 
he  can  say.  If  my  God  be  pleased,  no  matter 
who  is  displeased.  No  matter  who  despise 
me,  if  he  account  me  his.  Though  all  for- 
sake me,  my  dearest  friends  grow  estranged, 
and  look  another  way,  if  he  reject  me  not, 
that  is  ray  only  fear,  and  for  that  I  am  not 
ptrnlcxed  :  I  know  he  will  not.  As  they  an-  ' 
3wered  Alexander,  when  he  sent  to  inquire  ' 
what  they  most  feared,  thinking  possibly 


'  they  would  have  said,  lest  he  should  invade 
them  :  but  their  answer  was,  IVt-  fear  noth- 
ing hut  lest  heaven  should  fall  7ipon  71s ; 
which  they  did  not  fear  neither:  so,  a  be- 
liever hath  no  fear  but  of  the  displeasure  of 
heaven,  lest  the  anger  of  God  should  fall  up- 
on him :  he  fears  that ;  that  is,  accounts 
that  only  terrible  ;  but  yet,  he  doth  not  fear, 
doth  not  ajjprehend  it  will  fall  upon  him,  he 
is  better  persuaded  of  the  goodness  of  his 
God.  So  this  fear  is  still  joined  with  trust, 
as  here,  so  often  elsewhere.  Psalm  xxxiii.  18, 
xl.  n,  and  cxlvii.  11. 

There  is  no  turbulency  in  this  fear  ;  it  is 
calm  and  sweet.  Even  that  most  terrible 
evil,  that  which  this  fear  properly  apprehends 
and  flies,  sin,  yet,  the  fear  of  that  goes  not 
to  a  distraction.  Thou<rh  there  is  little 
strength,  and  many  and  great  enemies, mighty 
Anakims  of  temptations  from  without,  and 
corruptions  within,  and  so,  good  reason  for  a 
holy,  humble  fear  and  self-distrust,  yea,  this 
should  not  beat  us  off :  yet,  it  is  most  fit  to 
put  us  on  to  trust  in  Him  who  is  our  strength. 
Courage  !  the  day  shall  be  ours.  Though 
we  may  be  often  foiled  and  down,  and  some- 
times almost  at  a  hopeless  point,  yet,  our 
Head  is  on  high.  He  hath  conquered  for  us, 
and  shall  conquer  in  us.  Therefore,  so  fear 
as  not  to  fear.  Why  should  1  fear  in  the 
days  of  evil,  says  the  psalmist,  when  the  in- 
i(/uity  of  my  heels  shall  compass  me  about  ? 
Psalm  xlix.  5.  (Which  I  take  is  some  griev- 
ous aflliction,  and  that  with  a  visage  of  pun 
ishment  of  sin  :  guiltiness  is  to  be  read  in  it, 
yet  does  he  not  fear.)  If  I  trusted  in  wealth, 
and  hoastsd  myself  in  the  multitude  of  riches, 
then  that  being  in  hazard,  I  must  fear:  lean- 
ing on  that,  it  failing,  T  might  fall.  But  this 
is  my  confidence  (ver.  15),  God  will  redeemmy 
soul  from  the  power  of  the  grave,  for  he  shall 
j  receive  me.  Wealth  can  not,  but  he  can.  It 
buys  not  a  man  out  from  his  hand,  but  he 
buys,  from  the  hand  of  the  israve  ;  so  the 
word  is.  For  the  visible  heavens  even  in 
their  fall,  and  the  dissolution  of  nature, 
would  not  affright  a  believer,  Sifractus  ilia- 
batiir  orhis,  Src. 

Alas  !  most  persons  have  dull  or  dim  ap- 
prehensions and  shallow  impressions  of  God  ; 
therefore  thcvhave  little  either  of  this/ear  or 
of  {his  t7-ust.  God  is  not  in  all  their  thoughts, 
but  how  to  compass  this  or  that  design,  and 
if  they  miss  one,  then  how  to  compass  another: 
they  are  cast  from  one  wave  upon  another. 
And  if  at  any  time  they  attain  their  purpose, 
they  find  it  but  a  wind,  a  handful  of  nothing, 
far  from  what  they  fancied  it. 

Oh,  my  brethren,  my  desire  is,  that  the 
faces  of  your  souls  were  but  once  turned  about, 
that  they  were  toward  him,  looking  to  him, 
continually  fearing  him,  delighting,  trusting 
in  him,  making  him  your  all.  Can  anything 
so  elevate  and  ennoble  the  spirit  of  a  man,  as 
to  contemplate  and  converse  with  the  pure 
ever-blessed  spring  and  Father  of  spirits  . 
Beg  that  you  may^now  him,  that  he  would 


^ftSTi  cxii.  7.] 


THE  BELIEVER  A  HERO. 


497 


e  veal  himself  to  you ;  for  otherwise,  no  teach- 
1112:  can  make  iiim  known.  It  is  to  light  can- 
liles  to  seek  the  sun,  to  think  to  attain  to  this 
knowledge  without  his  own  revealing  it.  If 
he  hide  his  face,  who  then  may  behold  him  ? 
Fray  for  this  quickening  knowledge,  such  a 
knowledge  as  will  effectually  work  this  happy 
fear  and  trust. 

You  who  have  attained  anything  of  it,  desire 
and  follow  on  to  know  ike  Lord  ;  particularly, 
so  that  your  hearts  may  repose  on  him.  So 
fear  that  you  may  not  fear.  He  would  have 
our  spirits  calm  and  quiet ;  for  when  they  are 
n  a  hurry  and  confusion,  they  are  ihen  fit  for 

othing:  all  within  raa'^es  a  jarring,  unpleas- 
■:it  noise,  as  of  an  in.  'r  iment  quite  out  of 
tune. 

This  fear  of  God  is  not,  you  see,  a  perplex- 
ing doubting  and  distrust  of  his  love:  on  the 
contrary,  it  15  a  fixed  resting  and  trust  on  his 
love. 

Many  who  have  some  truth  of  grace,  are, 
through  weakness,  filled  with  disquieting 
fears  ;  but  possibly,  though  they  perceive  it 
not,  it  may  be  in  some,  a  point  of  wilfulness, 
a  little  latent,  undiscerned  affectation  of  scrup- 
ling and  doubting,  placing  much  of  religion 
in  it.  True,  where  the  soul  is  really  solicit- 
ous about  its  interest  in  God,  that  argues  some 
grace  ;  but  being  vexingly  anxious  about  it, 
argues  that  grace  is  low  and  weak.  A  spark 
there  is,  even  discovered  by  that  smoke  ;  but 
the  great  smoke  siill  continuing,  and  nothing 
seen  bul  it,  argues  there  is  little  fire,  little  1 
faiih,  little  love.  j 

And  this,  as  it  is  unpleasant  to  thyself,  so 
is  it  to  God,  as  smoke  10  tiie  eyes.    What  if 
one  should  be  always  questioning  wiih  his 
friend,  whether  he  loved  him  or  not,  and  upon  I 
every  little  occasion  were  ready  to  think  he  ; 
doth  not,  how  would  this  disrelish  their  society  1 
together,  tliough  truly  loving  each  other  I  ! 
The  far  more  excellent  way,  and  more  pleas-, 
in^  both  to  ourselves  and  to  God.  were  to  re- . 
solve  on  humble  trust,  reverence,  and  conli-  ■ 
dence,  being  most  afraid  to  ofl'end,  delightintrl 
to  walk  in  his  ways,  loving  him  and  his  will 
in  all,  and  then,  resting  persuaded  of  his  love,  I 
though  he  chastise  us.    And  even  though  we  ! 
offend  him,  and  see  our  offences  in  our  chas-  [ 
tisements,  yet  he  is  good,  plcntrons  in  redernp-  ' 
lion,  ready  to  forgive;  therefore  let  Israeli 
trust  and  hope.  Psalm  cxxx.  7.    Let  my  soul  ' 
roll  itself  on  him,  and  adventure  there  all  its 
weight.    lie  bears  greater  matters,  upholding 
the  frame  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  is  not 
troubled  nor  burderud  with  it. 

Thv;  heart  of  a  man  is  not  sufficient  for 
self-support ;  therefore,  naturally,  it  seeks  out 
some  01  her  thing  to  lean  and  rest  itself  on.  | 
The  unhappiness  is,  for  the  myst  part,  that  it 
seeks  10  things  below  itself;  but  these,  being 
both  so  mean  and  ft^  uncertain,  can  not  be  a 
firm  and  certain  slay  to  it.  The.se  things  are 
not  fixed  themselves:  how  can  they  men  fix 
he  heart  ?    Can  a  man  have  firm  footing  on  j 

quaymire,  or  moving  sands  ?    Therefore, ' 
63 


men  are  forced  in  these  things,  still  to  shif* 
their  seal,  and  seek  about  from  one  to  another, 
still  rolling  and  unsettled.  The  believer  only 
nalh  this  advantage  ;  he  hath  a  rest  high 
enough  and  sure  enough,  out  of  the  reach  of 
all  hazards.  His  heart  is  fixed,  trusting  in 
'.he  Lord. 

The  basis  of  this  happiness  is,  He  Irusteth 
■'.n  the  Lord.  So  the  heart  is  fixed  ;  and  Sv 
Ixed,  it  fears  no  ill  tidings. 

This  trust  is  grounded  on  the  word  of  God, 
revealing  the  power  and  all-sufficiency  of  God, 
and  withal  his  goodness,  his  ofl'er  of  himself 
to  be  the  stay  of  souls,  his  commanding  us  to 
rest  on  him.  People  wait  on  I  know  not  wha 
persuasions  and  assurances,  but  I  know  nt- 
ether  to  build  faith  on,  than  the  word  of  prom 
se,  the  truth  and  faithfulness  of  God  opened 
up,  his  wisdom,  and  power,  and  goodness,  as 
.he  stay  of  ;ill  those  who,  renouncing  all  othei 
props,  will  venture  on  it, and  lay  all  upon  him 
He  that  believes,  sets  to  his  seal  that  God  i.\ 
true,  John  iii.  33,  and  so,  he  is  sealed  for  God  , 
his  portion  and  interest  are  secured.  If  ye 
will  not  believe,  surely  ye  shall  nut  be  estab 
hshcd.    Isa.  vii.  9. 

This  is  the  way  to  have  peace  and  assurance 
which  many  look  for  first,  Thou  wilt  keep  him 
in  perfect  peace  whose  mind  is  stayed  on  thee, 
because  he  trustcth  in  thee.  Isa.  xxvi.  3.  So 
here,  the  heart  is  fixed  by  truslini(. 

Seek,  then,  clearer  apprehensions  of  the 
faithfulness  and  goodness  of  God,  hearts  more 
enlarged  in  the  notion  of  free  grace,  and  the 
absolute  trust  due  to  it ;  thus  shall  tlrtjy  be 
more  established  and  fixed  in  all  the  rollings 
and  changes  of  the  world. 

His  heart  is  fixed,  or  prepared,  ready-dressed 
and  in  arms  for  all  services,  resolved  not  to 
give  back,  able  to  meet  all  adventures,  and 
stand  its  ground.  God  is  unchangeable,  and 
therefore  faith  is  invincible.  That  sets  the 
heart  on  him,  fastens  it  there  on  the  rock  of 
eternity  ;  then,  let  winds  blow,  and  storms 
arise,  it  cares  not. 

This  firm  and  close  cleaving  unto  God  hath 
in  it  of  the  affection  which  is  inseparable  from 
this  trust,  love,  joined  with  faith,  and  so,  a 
hatred  of  all  ways  and  thoughts  that  alienate 
and  estrange  from  God,  that  remove  and  un- 
settle the  heart.  The  holiest,  wariest  heart 
is  surely  the  rnos'  believing  and  fixed  heart 
If  a  believer  will  adventure  on  any  v;ray  of  sin, 
he  shall  find  that  it  will  unfix  him,  and  shake 
his  confidence,  more  than  ten  thousand  hazards 
and  assaults  from  without.  These  are  so  far 
from  moving,  that  they  seitleand  fix  theheart 
commonly  more, causing  it  tocliave  thecloser 
and  n(?arer  uiit(j  God  ;  but  sinful  liberty  breeds 
disquiet,  and  disturbs  all.  W  here  sin  is,  there 
will  be  a  siorm  :  the  wind  within  the  bowe's 
af  the  earth,  makes  the  earthquake. 

Would  you  be  quiet,  and  have  peace  within 
•n  troublous  times  ?  keep  near  unto  God,  bo- 
ware  of  anything  that  may  interjiose  heiweea 
YOU  and  your  confideiue.  It  is  good  for  me, 
«ays  the  psalmist,  I"     near  God :  not  onl* 


49S 


THE  BELIEVER  A  HERO. 


[Sf.r.  XIL 


to  draw  nenr.  but  to  keep  near,  to  cleave  to 
him,  and  dwell  in  him  :  so  the  word  imports. 
Oh,  the  sweet  calm  of  such  a  soul  amidst  all 
storms  I  Thus,  once  trusiinir  and  lixed,  then 
Qo  more  lear  :  he  is  not  afraid  of  evil  fidini;s, 
not  of  any  i//-/icari»!>.  Whatsoever  sound  is 
terrible  in  the  ears  of  men,  the  noise  of  war, 
news  of  death,  or  even  the  sound  of  the  trum- 
pet in  the  last  judtrment,  he  hears  all  this 
uudisquieted.  Nothing  is  unexpected.  Being 
once  ti.xed  on  God,  then  the  heart  may  put 
cases  to  itself,  and  suppose  all  things  imagi- 
nable, the  most  terrible,  and  look  for  them  ; 
not  trouble  before  trouble  comes,  Avith  dark 
and  dismal  a[)|irehensions,  but  satisfied  in  a 
quiet,  unmoved  expectation  of  the  hardest 
things.  Whatsoever  it  is,  though  particular- 
ly not  thought  on  before,  yet  the  heart  is  not 
afraid  of  ihe  news  of  it,  because  it  is  fixed, 
trusting  on  the  Lord.  Nothing  can  shake 
that  foundation,  nor  dissolve  that  union  ; 
therefore,  no  fear.  Yea,  this  assurance  stays 
the  heart  in  all  things,  how  stranse  and  un- 
foreseen soever  to  it.  All  are  foreseen  to  my 
God  on  whom  I  trust,  yea  are  forecontrived 
and  ordered  by  him.  This  is  the  impregnable 
fortress  of  a  soul.  All  is  at  the  disposal  and 
command  of  my  God  ;  my  Father  rules  all : 
what  need  I  fear  ? 

Every  one  trusts  to  somewhat.  As  for 
honor,  and  esteem,  and  popularity,  they  are 
airy,  vain  things;  but  riches  seem  a  more 
solid  work  and  fence,  yet  they  are  but  a  tower 
in  conceit,  not  really.  Prov.  xviii.  11.  The 
•■ich  7nans  wealth  is  his  strong  city,  and  as  a 
high  uall  m  his  own  conceit.  But  (ver.  If)), 
Ihe  name  of  the  Lord  is  a  strong  tower,  indeed. 
This  IS  the  thing  that  all  seek,  some/i??ice  and 
fixing ;  here  it  is.  We  call  you  not  to  vexa- 
tion and  turmoil,  but/row!  it,  and,  as  St.  Paul 
said,  Whom  ye  ignorantly  u  orship,  him  declare 
I  unto  you.  Ye  blindly  and  fruitlessly  seek 
after  the  show.  The  true  aiming  at  this  fixed- 
ness of  mind  will  secure  that,  though  they 
fall  short,  yet,  by  the  way  they  will  light  on 
very  pretty  things  that  have  some  virtue  in 
them,  as  they  that  seek  the  philosopher's 
stone.  But  the  believer  hath  the  thing,  the 
secret  itself  of  trancjuillily  and  joy,  and  this 
turns  all  into  gold,  their  iron  chains  into  a 
crown  of  gold  :  While  ive  look  not  at  the  things 
which  are  seen,  hut  at  the  things  which  are  not 
set,,.    2  Cor.  iv.  17,  18. 

This  is  the  blessed  and  safe  estate  of  be- 
lievers. Who  can  think  they  have  a  sad, 
heavy  life?  Oh!  it  is  the  only  lightsome, 
sweet,  cheerful  condition  in  the  world.  The 
rest  of  men  are  poor,  rolling,  unstayed  things, 
every  report  shaking  them,  as  the  leaves  of 
trees  are  shaken  with  the  wind  :  yea,  lighter 
than  so,  as  the  chaff  that  the  wind  drives  to 
and  fro  at  its  pleasure.  Isa.  vii.  2  ;  Psalm  i.  4. 
Would  men  but  reflect  and  look  in  upon  their 
own  hearts,  it  is  a  wonder  what  vain,  childish 
things  the  most  would  find  there,  glad  and 
sorry  at  things  as  light  as  the  toys  of  children, 
at  \^h'ch  they  iaugh  and  cry  in  a  breath. 


How  easily  is  the  heart  puffed  up  with  a  thing 
or  a  word  that  pleaseth  us,  bladder-like, 
swelled  with  a  little  air,  and  it  shrinks  agajn 
in  discouragements  and  fear,  upon  the  touch 
of  a  needle's  point,  which  gives  that  air  some 
vent. 

What  is  the  life  of  the  greatest  part  but  a 
continual  tossing  between  vain  hopes  and 
fears?  All  their  days  are  s[)ent  in  these. 
Oh  !  how  vain  a  thing  is  a  n)an  even  in  his 
best  estate,  while  he  is  nothing  but  himself 
— while  his  heart  is  not  united  and  fixed  on 
God,  and  he  is  discjuieted  in  vain.  How  small 
a  thing  will  do  it!  He  needs  no  other  than 
his  own  heart  :  it  may  prove  disquietment 
enough  to  itself:  his  thoughts  are  his  tor- 
mentors. 

I  know  some  men  are,  by  a  stronger  under- 
standing and  by  moral  principles,  somewhat 
raised  above  the  vulsrar,  and  speak  big  of  a 
constancy  of  mind  :  but  these  are  but  flour- 
ishes, an  acted  bravery.  Somewhat  there 
may  be  that  will  hold  out  in  some  trials,  but 
it  will  fall  far  short  of  this  fixedness  of  faith. 
Troubles  may  so  multiply,  as  to  drive  them 
at  length  from  their  posture,  and  mav  come 
on  so  thick,  with  such  violent  blows,  as  will 
smite  them  out  of  their  artifirial  guard,  dis- 
order all  their  Seneca  and  Epictetus,  and  all 
their  own  calm  thoughts  and  high  resolves. 
The  approach  of  death,  though  they  make  a 
good  mien,  and  set  the  best  face  on  it,  or  if 
not,  yet,  some  kind  of  terror,  may  seize  on 
their  spirits,  which  they  are  not  able  to  shift 
off.  But  the  soul  trusting  on  God,  is  prepared 
for  all,  not  only  for  the  calamities  of  war, 
pestilence,  famine,  poverty,  or  death,  but 
when  in  the  saddest  apprehensions  of  the  soul 
beyond  hope,  believes  against  hope  ;  even  ii 
the  darkest  night,  casts  anchor  in  God,  re 
poses  on  him  when  be  sees  no  light.  Is.  1.  10 
Yea,  though  he  slay  me,  says  Job,  yet  will  J 
trust  on  him — not  merely,  though  I  die,  but, 
though  he  slay  me  :  when  I  see  his  hand  lifted 
up  to  destroy  me,  yet,  from  that  same  hand 
will  I  look  for  salvation. 

My  brethren,  my  desire  is,  to  stir  up  in 
'your  hearts  an  ambition  after  this  blessed 
estate  of  the  godly  who  fear  the  Lord,  and 
truj-t  in  him,  and  so  fear  no  other  thing.  The 
common  revolutions  and  changes  of  the  world, 
and  those  which  in  these  late  times  we  our- 
i  selves  have  seen,  and  the  likelihood  of  more 
and  greater  commg  on,  seem  dreadful  to  weak 
minds.  But  let  these  persuade  us  the  more 
to  prize  and  seek  this  fixed,  unaffrighted  sta- 
tion :  there  is  no  fixing  but  here. 

Oh  !  that  you  would  be  persuaded  to  break 
off  from  the  vile  ways  of  sin,  which  debase 
the  soul  and  fill  it  full  of  ten.rs,  and  to  dis- 
engage them  from  the  vanities  of  this  world, 
to  take  up  in  God,  to  live  in  him  wholly,  to 
cleave  to  and  depend  on  him,  to  esteem  not! 
ing  beside  him  !  Excellent  was  the  answei 
of  that  holy  man  to  the  em])eror,  on  his  first 
essaying  him  with  large  proffers  of  honor  and 
I  riches  to  draw  him  from  Christ :  0£'er  thest 


4 

Psalm  cxii.  7.] 


THE  BELIEVER  A  HERO. 


499 


things  I'says  he)  to  children,  I  regard  them 
not.  Then  after  he  had  tried  to  terrify  him 
u'ith  threatening  :  Threaten  (says  he)  your 
effeminate  courtiers,  J  fear  none  of  these 
things. 

Seek  to  have  your  hearts  established  on 
liim  hy  the  faith  of  eternal  life,  and  then  it 
will  be  ashamed  to  distrust  him  in  any  other 
thing.  Yea,  truly,  you  will  not  much  regard, 
nor  be  careful  for  other  thmgs  how  they  be. 
It  will  be  all  one,  the  better  and  the  worse 
of  this  moment  ;  the  things  of  it,  even  the 
greatest,  being  both  in  themselves  so  little 
and  worthless,  and  of  so  short  continuance. 

Well,  clioose  you  ;  but  all  reckoned  and  ex- 
amined, 1  had  rather  be  the  poorest  believer 
than  the  greatest  king  on  earth.  How  small 
a  commotion,  small  in  its  beginning,  may 
prove  the  overturning  of  the  greatest  king- 
dom !  But  the  believer  is  heir  to  a  kingdom 
that  can  not  be  shaken.  The  mightiest  and 
most  victorious  prince,  who  hath  not  only  lost 
nothing,  but  hath  been  gaining  new  conquests 
all  his  days,  is  stopped  by  a  small  distemper 
in  the  middle  of  his  course  ;  he  returns  to  his 
dust,  and  then  his  vast  designs  fall  to  nothing. 
In  that  very  day  his  thoughts  perish.  But  the 
believer,  in  that  very  day,  is  sent  to  the  pos- 
session of  his  crown  :  that  is  his  coronation- 
day  ;  all  his  thoughts  are  accomplished. 

How  can  you  afTrighi  him  ?  Bring  him, 
word  that  his  estaie  is  ruined.  "  Yet,  my  in- 
heritance is  safe,"  says  he.  "  Your  wife,  or 
child,  or  dear  friend,  is  dead." — "  Yet  my  Fa- 
titer  lives." — "  You  yourself  must  die." — 
"  Well,  then,  I  go  home  to  my  Father,  and  to 
my  inheritance.^' 

For  the  public  troubles  of  the  church,  doubt-  \ 
less,  it  is  boih  a  pious  and  a  srenerous  temper, 
to  be  more  de<'|)ly  affected  for  these  than  for 
all  our  private  ones  :  and  to  be  alive  to  the  | 
common  calamities  of  any  people,  but  espe- 
cially of  God's  own  people,  hath  been  the 
character  of  men  near  unto  him.  Observe 
the  pathetical  strains  of  the  prophets'  bewail- 
mg,  when  they  foretell  the  desolation  even  of 
foreign  kingdoms,  much  more  wlien  foretel- 
ling that  of  the  Lord's  chosen  people  ;  they 
are  still  mindful  of  Sion,and  mournful  for  her 
distresses.    See  Jer.  ix.  ] ,  and  the  whole  Ixjok 
of  Lamentations.    So  the  psalmist :  If  I  fur-  \ 
get  thee,  O  Jerusalem,  &c.  Psalm  cxxxvii.  5.  i 
Pious  spirits  are  always  public-spiriied,  as} 
even   brave  heathens   were   for   the  com-  ] 
moiivvealth.    So  he,  in  that  passage  of  Hor- 
ace:* "Little  regarding  himself,  but  much 
•olicitous  for  the  public."    Yet  even  in  this, 
with  much  compassion,  there  is  a  cairn  in  a 
••eliever's  mind.    How  these  agree,  none  can 
ell  but  they  who  feel  it.    He  finds  amid  all 
iard  news,  yet  still  a  fixed  heart.  trvstin<r, 
<aiisfied  in  this,  that  deliverance  shall  conie  i 
in  due  time  (Psalm  cii.  I.'J),and  that  in  those  ' 
judgments  that  are  inHicted,  man  shall  be 

•  Invcnit  insomni  vnlvpntom  p  ibliru  ciirS 
Fata  viri'jm,  casusqiir  urbis,  cunctisque  timentem, 
Securiifnqiie  sui. 


humbled  and  God  exalted  (Isa.  li.  11  ;  v.  IC), 
and  that  in  all  tumults,  and  changes  and  sub- 
versions of  states,  still,  his  throne  is  fixed,  and 
with  that  the  believer's  heart  likewise.  So 
[Psalm  xxix.  10:  The  Lord  sitteth  upon  the 
I  flood  :  yea,  the  Lord  sitteth  king  for  ever. 
I  Or,  sat  in  the  flood,  possibly  referring  to  the 
{general  deluge:  yet.  then,  God  sat  quiet, and 
;  still  sitteth  kinsr  for  ever.    He  steered  the  ark, 
'  and  still  guides  his  church  through  all.  So 
Psalm  xlvi.,  throughout  that  whole  Psalm, 
I  In  all  commotions,  the  kingdom  of  Christ 
shall  be  spreading  and  growing,  and  the  close 
of  all  shall  be  full  victory  on  his  side  :  and 
that  is  sufficient  for  the  believer. 

Of  this,  a  singular  example  is  in  Job,  who 
was  not  daunted  with  so  many  ill-hearings, 
j  but  stood  as  an  unmoved  rock  amid  the 
winds  and  waves :  Ille  velut  rupes  immota 
manehat. 

In  this  condition  there  is  so  much  sweet- 
ness that,  if  known,  a  man  might  suspect 
bimself  to  be  rather  selfishly  taken  with  it, 
than  to  be  purely  loving  God.  Such  joy  in 
believing,  or  at  least  such  peace,  such  a  se- 
rene calmness,  is  in  no  other  thing  in  this 
world.  Nothing  either  without  or  within  a 
man  is  to  be  named  with  this  trusting  on  his 
goodness,  who  is  God,  and  on  his  faithful- 
ness, who,  giving  his  promise  for  thy  warrant, 
commands  thee  to  rely  on  him.  The  holy 
soul  still  trusts  under  the  darkest  apprehen- 
sions. If  it  is  suggested  that  thou  art  a  rep- 
robate, yet  will  the  soul  say,  "  I  will  see  the 
utmost,  and  hang  by  the  hold  I  have,  till  I 
feel  nivself  really  cast  off,  and  will  not  wil- 
lingly fall  off.  If'  I  must  be  separnied  from 
liim,  he  shall  do  it  himself ;  he  shall  shake 
me  off  wliile  1  would  cleave  to  him.  Yea,  to 
the  utmost,  I  will  look  for  mercy,  and  will 
hope  better:  though  I  f(;und  him  shaking  me 
off,  yet  will  I  think  he  will  not  do  it."'  It  is 
good  to  seek  after  all  possible  assurance,  ljut 
not  to  fret  at  the  want  of  it  ;  for  even  without 
those  assurances  which  some  Christians  hang 
too  much  upon,  there  is  in  simple  trust  and 
reliance  on  God,  and  in  a  desire  to  walk  in 
his  ways,  such  a  fortress  of  peace,  as  all  the 
assaults  in  the  world  are  not  able  to  make  a 
breach  in.  And  to  this  add  that  unspeakable 
delight  in  walking  in  his  fear,  joined  with 
this  trust.  The  noble  ambition  of  pleasing 
him,  makes  one  careless  of  pleasing  or  dis- 
jileasing  all  the  world.  Besides,  the  delight 
in  his  commandments,  in  so  pure,  so  just  a 
law,  holiness,  victory  over  lusts,  and  temper- 
ance, hath  a  sweetness  in  it  that  presently 
pays  itself,  because  it  is  agreeable  to  his 
will. 

It  is  the  godly  man  alone,  who,  by  this  fixed 
consideration  in  God,  looks  the  grim  visage 
of  death  in  the  face  wilh  an  unappalled  mind, 
which  damps  all  the  joys,  and  defeats  all  the 
hopes  of  the  most  prosperous,  proudest,  and 
wisest  worldlings.  As  Archimedes  said,  when 
shot,  Avornsti  ah  nplrrna  (I nmonstralione,  so  l 
spoils  all  their  figures  and  tine  devices.  Bui 


600  THE  PARABLE  i 

to  the  righteous,  there  is  hope  in  his  death. 
He  goes  tliroUiih  it  witliout  fear,  without 
Caligula's  Qiw  vaiti.i.  Thougii  riches,  hon- 
ors, and  all  the  glories  of  this  world,  are  with 
a  man,  yet  he  fears  :  yea,  lie  fears  ihe  more 
for  these,  because  here  they  must  end.  But 
the  good  man  looks  dealh  out  of  countenance, 
111  the  words  of  David,  Though  J  xralk  Ihrough 
the  volley  and  shadow  of  dealh,  yet  will'l  fear 
no  evil,  for  thou  art  with  me.  Psalm  xxiii.  4. 


SERMON  xnr. 

THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER. 

Matt.  xiii.  3. 

And  he  spake  many  things  unto  ihom  in  parables, 
saying,  Behold  a  sower  went  forth  to  sow. 

The  rich  bounty  of  God  hath  furnished  our 
natural  life,  not  barely  for  strict  necessity,  but 
with  great  abundance:  many  kinds  of  beasts, 
and  fowls,  and  fishes,  and  herbs,  and  fruits, 
has  he  provided  for  the  use  of  man.  Thus 
our  spiritual  life  likewise  is  supported  with  a 
variety:  the  word,  the  food  of  it,  hath  not 
only  all  necessary  truths  once  simjjly  set 
down,  but  a  great  variety  of  doctrine  for  our 
more  abundant  instruction  and  consolation. 
Among  the  rest,  this  way  of  similitudes  hath 
a  notable  commixture  of  profit  and  delight. 

Parables  not  unfolded  and  understood,  are 
a  veil  (as  here)  to  the  multitude  :  and  in  that 
view,  they  are  a  great  judgment  (as  Isa.  vi. 
9,  cited  here) :  but  when  cleared  and  made 
transparent,  then  they  are  a  fflass  to  behold 
Divine  things  in  more  commodiously  and  suit- 
ably to  our  way.  All  things  are  big  with 
such  resemblances,  but  they  require  the  dex- 
terous hat  d  of  an  active  spirit  to  bring  them 
forth  T  is  way,  beside  other  advantages,  is 
much  graced  and  commended  by  our  Savior's 
frequent  use  of  it. 

That  which  is  given  here,  is  fitted  to  the 
occasion  :  multitudes  were  coming  to  hear 
him,  and  m;iny  were  not  a  whit  the  belter  for 
it.  He  instructs  us  in  this  point,  the  great  dif- 
ference between  the  different  hearts  of  men, 
so  that  the  same  word  hath  very  different  suc- 
cess in  them.  ■  ] 

In  this  parable  we  shall  consider  these  three 
■things:  1.  The  nature  of  the  word  itself.  2., 
The  sameness  and  commonness  of  the  dispen- 
sation. 3.  The  difference  of  the  operation  and  I 
production.  i 

The  word,  the  seed,  hath  in  it  a  productive  I 
virtue  to  bring  forth  fruit  according  to  its 
Kind,  that  is,  the  fruit  of  a  ncir  life  ;  not  only 
a  new  habitude  and  fashion  of  life  without, 
but  a  n.?w  nature,  a  new  kind  of  life  within, 
new  thoughts,  a  new  estimate  of  things,  new 
delights  and  actions.  When  the  word  reveals  ^ 
!jod,  his  greatness  and  holiness,  then  it  begets 
pious  fear  and  reverence,  and  study  of  coa- 
formity  to  him.  When  it  reveals  his  good- 
ness and  mercy,  it  works  love  and  confidence.  | 


F  THE  SOWER.  [Ser.  XIII 

When  it  holds  up  to  our  view  Christ  cruLi 
fied,  it  crucifies  the  soul  to  the  world,  and  th« 
World  to  it.  When  it  represents  those  rich 
things  which  are  laid  up  lor  us,  that  blessed 
inheritance  of  the  saints,  then  it  makes  all  the 
lustre  of  this  world  vanish,  shows  how  poor 
it  is,  weans  and  calls  off  the  hea-t  from  them, 
raising  it  t(^  those  higher  hoi)es,  and  sets  it  on 
the  project  tjf  a  crown.  And  so  it  is  a  seed 
of  noble  thoughts  and  of  a  suitable  behavior 
in  a  Christian,  as  in  the  exposition  of  this 
parable,  as  it  is  called  the  word  of  the  king- 
dom ;  seed,  an  immortal  seed,  as  St.  Peter 
calls  it,  1  Peter  i.  23,  springing  up  to  no  less 
than  eternal  life. 

This  teaches  us,  1.  Highly  to  esteem  the 
great  goodness  of  God  to  those  places  and 
times  which  have  been  most  blessed  with  it. 
He  showeth  his  trord  iinio  Jacob,  his  statutes 
and  hts  jud gments  unto  Israel.  He  hath  not 
dealt  so  with  any  nation  ;  and  as  for  his  jud g- 
ments,  they  have  not  known  them.  Psalm 
j  cxlvii.  19. 

I  2.  That  the  same  dispensation  is  to  be 
i  preached  indifferently  to  all  where  it  comes, 
as  far  as  the  sound  can  reach.  And  thus  it 
was  very  much  extended  in  the  first  promul- 
gating of  the  gospel  ;  their  sound  went  out 
ihrovgh  all  the  earth,  as  the  apostle  allusively 
applies  that  ot  the  psalmist.  Romans  x.  18  ; 
Psalm  xix.  4. 

3.  This  teaches  also  ministers  liberally  tc 
sow  this  seed  at  all  times,  according  to  that, 
In  the  morning  soio  thy  seed,  and  in  the  even- 
ing withhold  not  thy  hand,  &c.  (Eccl.  xi.  6), 
praying  earnestly  to  him  who  is  the  Lord,  not 
only  of  the  harvest,  but  of  the  seedtime,  and 
of  this  seed,  to  make  it  fruitful.  This  is  his 
peculiar  work.  So  the  apostle  acknowledges, 
I  have  ■planted,  Apollos  watered,  but  God  gave 
the  increase.  1  Cor.  iii.  6. 

4.  Hence  we  also  learn  the  success  to  be 
very  different.  This  is  most  evident  in  men  : 
while  one  is  cast  into  the  mould  and  fashion 
of  the  word,  and  so  moulded  and  fashioned  by 
it,  another  is  no  whit  changed  ;  while  one 
heart  is  melting  before  it,  another  is  still 
hardened  under  it. 

So,  then,  this  is  not  all,  to  have  the  word 
and  to  hear  it,  as  if  that  would  serve  our  turn 
and  save  us,  as  we  commonly  fancy,  The 
temple  of  the  Lord,  the  temple  of  the  Lord 
are  we.  Multitudes  under  the  continual  sound 
of  the  word,  yet  remain  lifeless  and  fruitless, 
and  die  in  their  sins.  Therefore,  we  must  in- 
quire and  examine  strictly,  what  becomes  of 
it,  how  it  works,  what  it  brings  forth  and 
for  this  very  end,  this  parable  declares  sc 
many  are  fruitless.  We  need  not  press  them, 
they  are  three  to  one  here;  yea,  that  were 
too'narrow,  the  odds  is  far  greater,  for  these 
are  but  the  kinds  of  unfruitful  grounds,  and 
under  each  of  these  are  comprised  huge  mul- 
titudes of  individuals,  so  that  there  may  be  a 
hundred  to  one,  and  it  is  to  be  feared  thai  in 
manv  congregations  it  is  more  than  so. 

Whence  is  then  the  difference  ?    Not  from 


Matt.  xiii.  3.] 


THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER. 


501 


the  seed  ;  that  is  the  same  to  all.  Not  from 
the  sower  neither,  for  though  tliese  be  divers, 
and  of  different  abilities,  j'ei  it  hangs  little  or 
nothing  on  that.  Indeed,  he  is  the  finest  to 
preach,  who  is  himself  most  like  his  message, 
and  comes  forth  not  only  with  a  handful  of 
this  seed  in  his  hand,  but  with  store  of  it  in  his 
heart,  the  word  dici  llin^  richly  in  him  ;  yet, 
howsoever,  the  seed  he  sows,  being  this  word 
of  lift,  depends  not  on  his  qualifications  in 
any  kind,  either  of  common  gifts,  or  special 
grace.  Peojile  mistake  this  much,  and  it  is 
a  carnal  conceit  to  hang  on  the  advantages 
of  the  minister,  or  to  eye  that  much.  The 
5ure  way  is,  to  look  up  to  God,  and  to  look 
into  thine  own  heart.  An  unchanged,  unsufi- 
ened  heart,  like  aa  evil  soil,  disappoints  the 
fruit.  What  though  sown  by  a  weak  hand, 
yea,  possibly  a  foul  one,  yet  if  received  into  a 
clean  and  honest  heart,  it  will  fructify  much. 
There  is  in  the  world  a  needless  and  prejudi- 
cial distmguishing  of  men,  out  of  which  peo- 
ple will  not  come,  for  all  we  can  say. 

The  first  bad  ground  is  a  hf^hwny.  Now 
w  e  have  a  commentary  here,  whence  we  may 
not,  and  will  not  depart  :  it  i,s  authentic  and 
full.  It  is  those  who  hear  the  word  and  under- 
stand it  not.  Ver.  19.  Gross,  brutish  spirits, 
who  perceive  not  what  is  said,  are  as  if  they 
were  not  there,  sit  like  blocks,  one  log  of 
wood  upon  another  ;  as  he  said,  Lapis  super 
Inpidern  in  Ihealro.  This  is  our  brutish  mul- 
titude. What  pity  is  it  to  see  so  many,  such 
as  have  not  so  much  as  a  natural  apprehen- 
sion of  spiritual  truths  !  Their  hearts  are  the 
common,  road  of  all  passengers,  of  all  kinds  of 
foolish,  brutish  thoughts  ;  seeking  nothing  but 
how  to  live,  and  yet  they  know  not  to  what 
end,  have  no  design  ;  trivial,  hi<fhway  \w,\r[s, 
which  all  temptations  pass  through  at  their 
pleasure  :  profane  as  Es'iii,  which  some  crit- 
ics draw  from  a  word  signifying  the  threshold, 
the  outer  stej)  that  tvery  foul  foot  treads  on. 

These  retain  nothing  ;  there  is  no  hazard 
r.f  that ;  and  yet,  the  enemy  of  souls,  to  make 
all  sure,  lest  peradventure  some  word  miirht 
take  root  unawares,  some  grain  of  this  seed, 
is  busy  to  pick  it  away  ;  to  take  them  off  from 
ail  reflection,  all  serious  thoughts,  or  the  re- 
membrance of  any  thing  spoken  to  them.  And 
if  any  common  word  is  remembered,  yet  it 
doth  no  good,  for  that  is  trodden  down  like 
the  rest  ;  though  the  most  is  j)icked  up,  be- 
jause  it  lies  on  the  road.  So  it  is  expressed, 
Mark  iv.  4. 

The  second  is  stony  txroiind  ;  hard  hearts, 
not  softened  and  made  penetrable  to  receive 
>n  deeply  this  ingrafted  word  with  meekness, 
with  humble  yielding  and  submission  to  it  ; 
the  rocks.  Yet,  in  thes(!,  there  is  often  some  re- 
ceiving of  it,  and  a  litileslendcr  t/ioistureahove 
hem,  which  the  warm  u.r  may  make  spring 
ip  a  little  :  they  receive  with  joy,  have  a  lit- 
.le  present  delight  in  it,  are  moved  and  taken 
with  the  sermon,  possildy  even  to  the  shed- 
ding of  som<!  tears  :  but  the  misery  is,  there 
«  want  of  deith  of  earth,  it  sinks  not. 


No  wonder  if  there  is  some  present  delight 
in  these.  Therefore,  the  xnord  of  the  king- 
dom, especially  if  skilfully  and  sensibly  de- 
livered by  some  more  able  speaker,  pleases. 
Let  it  be  but  a  fancy,  yet  it  is  a  fine  pleasant 
one  ;  such  love  as  induced  the  Son  of  God  tc 
die  for  sinners  ;  such  a  rich  purchase  made 
as  a  kingdom  :  such  glory  and  sweetness. 
Therefore  the  description  of  the  new  Jerusa- 
lem, Rev.  xxi.,  suppose  it  to  be  but  a  dream, 
or  one  of  the  visions  of  the  night,  yet  it  is 
passing  fine  :  it  must  needs  please  a  mind 
that  heeds  what  is  said  of  it.  There  is  a  nal- 
ural  delight  in  spiritual  things,  and  thus  the 
word  of  the  prophei,  as  the  Lord  tells  him 
(Ezek.  xxxiii.  32),  was  as  a  mfnstrel's  voice, 
a  fine  song  so  long  as  it  lasted,  but  which 
dies  out  in  the  air.  It  may  be,  the  relish  and 
air  of  it  will  remain  avvhile  in  the  imagina- 
tion, but  not  long  ;  even  that  wears  out  and 
is  forgotten.  So  here,  it  is  heard  with  joy, 
and  some  is  springini;  up  presently  :  they 
commend  it,  and,  it  may  be,  repeat  some  pas- 
sages, yea,  possibly  desire  to  be  like  it,  to 
have  such  and  sucii  graces  as  are  recommend- 
ed, and  \i[)on  that  think  they  have  them,  are 
presently  good  Christians  in  their  own  con- 
ceit. And  to  appearance,  some  change  is 
wrought,  and  it  appears  to  be  all  that  it  is  ; 
but  it  is  not  deep  enough.  They  talk,  possi- 
bly, too  much,  more  than  those  whose  hearts 
receive  it  more  deeply:  there  it  lies  hid 
longer,  and  little  is  heard  of  it ;  others  may 
think  it  is  lost,  and,  possibly,  themselves  do 
not  perceive  that  it  is  there  ;  they  are  exer- 
cised and  humbled  at  it,  and  find  no  good  in 
their  own  hearts  ;  yet,  there  it  is  hid  ;  aa 
David  says,  Thy  word  have  I  hid  in  my  heart. 
And  as  seed  in  a  manner  dies  in  a  silent, 
smothering  way,  yet,  it  is  in  order  to  the  fruc- 
tifying and  the  reviving  of  it,  so  it  will  spring 
up  in  lime,  and  be  fruitful  in  its  season — 
with  patience,  as  St.  Luke  hath  it  of  the  good 
ground  ;  not  so  suddenly,  but  much  more 
surely  and  solidly. 

But  the  most  are  present  mushroom  Chris- 
tians, soon  ripe,  soon  rotten.  The  seed  goes 
never  deep  :  it  sjjrings  up  indeed,  but  any- 
thing blasts  and  withers  it.  There  is  little 
root  in  some.  If  trials  arise,  either  the  heat 
o[ persecution  without,  or  a  temptation  with- 
in, this  sudden  spring-seed  can  stand  before 
neiiiier. 

Oh,  rocky  hearts!  How  shallow,  shallow, 
are  the  imjiressions  of"  Divine  things  upon 
you  I  Religion  goes  never  fariiier  than  tlie  up- 
per surface  of  your  hearts.  You  have  but  few 
deep  thoughts  of  God,  and  ol'  Jesus  Christ, 
and  the  thiiiss  of  the  world  to  come  ;  all  are 
but  slight  and  transient  glances. 

The  third  is,  thorny  ground.  This  relates 
to  the  cares,  and  pleasures,  and  all  the  inte- 
rests of  this  life.  See  Mark  iv.  1  :  and  Luke 
viii.  r>.  All  these  together  are  the  thorns. 
And  these  grow  in  hearts  which  do  more 
deejily  receive  the  seed,  and  send  it  forth,  and 
and  in  which  it  springs  up  more  hopefully 


51)2 


THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER. 


[Ser.  XHi. 


than  in  '.'itlici  of  tlie  oilier  two,  and  yt't  llicy 
clu.ki'  it.    Oh,  the  pity  ! 

j\lany  arc  ilius  almost  at  liea.en  ;  there  is 
so  much  desire  of  renovation,  and  some  en- 
deavors after  it,  and  yet,  the  thorns  prevail. 
Miserable  thorns,  the  l)a^e  thiiif;s  ofa  jierish- 
ing  life,  drawiiiw  away  the  strength  of  alfec- 
tions,  sueliing  liie  sap  of  the  soul  !  Our  oth- 
er seed  and  harvest,  our  corn  and  hay,  our 
shojis  anil  ships,  our  tradings  and  bargains, 
our  suits  and  jjretensions  fur  jilaces  and  em- 
ployments of  gain  or  credit,  hushand  or  wife, 
and  children,  and  house,  and  train,  our  feast- 
ings  and  entertainments,  and  other  j)leasures 
of  sense,  our  civilities  and  compliments,  and 
a  world  of  those  in  all  the  world,  are  these 
thorns,  and  they  overspread  all :  t/ie  lusL  of 
the  eye,  the  lust  of  the  Jiesh,  and  the  pride 
ofUf  .  _ 

And  tor  how  long  is  all  the  advantage  and 
delii;lu  of  these  ?  Alas!  that  so  poor  things 
should  prejudice  us  against  the  rich  and  bl*^ss- 
ed  increase  of  this  divine  seed  ! 

The  last  is,  good  ground,  a  good  and  hon- 
est heart.  There  is  not  much  fineness  here, 
not  many  questions  and  disputes,  but  honest 
simplicity,  ^weet  sincerity,  that  is  all;  an 
humble,  single  desire  to  eye  and  to  do  the  will 
of  God,  and  this  from  love  to  himself.  This 
makes  the  soul  abound  in  the  fruits  of  holi- 
ness, receiving  the  word  as  the  ground  of  it. 
Different  degrees  there  are  indeed,  some  thir- 
ty, some  sixty,  and  some  a  hundred  fold; 
yet,  the  lowest  are  aiming  at  the  highest,  not 
resting  satisfied,  still  growing  more  fruitful  ; 
if  thirty  last  year,  desiring  to  bring  forth  six- 
ty this. 

This  is  the  great  point,  and  we  ought  to  ex- 
amine it ;  for  much  is  sown  and  little  brought 
forth.  Our  God  hath  done  much  for  us  ; 
(what  more  could  be  done  ?)  yet,  when 
grapes  were  expected,  wild  grapes  are  produ- 
ced. What  becomes  of  all?  Wlio  grow  to 
be  more  spiritual,  more  humble  and  meek, 
more  like  Christ,  more  self-denying,  fuller  of 
love  to  God  and  one  to  another  ?  Some,  but 
alas!  how  few.  All  the  land  is  sown,  and 
that  plentifully,  with  the  good  seed  ;  but 
what  conies  lor  the  most  part  ?  Cockle,  and 
no  arain.    Infelix  lolium. 

We  would  do  all  other  things  to  purpose, 
and  not  willingly  lose  our  end  :  we  wuuld  not 
trade  and  gain  nothing,  buy  and  sell,  and  live 
by  the  loss  ;  we  would  not  plough  and  sow, 
and  reap  nothing.  How  sensibly  do  we  feel 
one  ill  year  !  And  shall  this  alone  be  lost  la- 
bor wliich,  well  improved,  were  worth  all 
the  rest?  Oh  !  how  much  more  worth  than 
all  !  Shall  we  do  only  the  <rreatest  business 
to  the  least  purpose?  Bethink  yourselves, 
what  do  we  here  ?  Why  come  we  here  ? 
If  we  still  remain  as  proud  and  [)assionate, 
.\s  s<lf-willed  as  before,  what  will  all  great 
bargains,  and  g(jod  years,  and  full  barns,  avail 
within  a  while  ?  That  word,  'I'hou  fool,  this 
ni'jht  shall  they  fetch  away  thy  soul,  how 
lerrible  will  it  be  I 


We  think  we  are  ^ise  in  not  losing  ou^  la- 
bor in  other  things;  why,  it  is  all  lost,  even 
where  most  is  gained.  What  anijunls  it  to, 
when  cast  up  ?  Vanity  and  vexation  oj 
spirit,  is  the  total  sum.  And  in  all  our  pro- 
jecting and  bustling,  what  do  we  hut  soir  tht 
wind,  and  reap  the  ichirlwind,  sow  vanity  and 
reap  vexalion  ? 

This  seed  aloiic,  being  fruitful,  makes  rich 
and  happy,  springs  up  to  eternal  life  !  Oh  . 
that  we  were  wise,  that  we  would  at  length 
learn  to  hear  every  sermon  as  on  the  utmost 
edge  of  time,  at  the  very  brink  of  eternity  ! 
For  anything  we  know  for  ourselves,  of  any 
of  us  it  may  be  really  so.  However,  it  is 
wise  and  safe  to  do  it  as  if  it  were  so.  Will 
you  be  persuaded  ot'  this  ?  It  were  a  happy 
sermon,  if  it  could  prevail  for  the  more  fruit- 
ful hearing  of  all  the  rest  henceforward.  We 
have  lost  too  much  of  our  little  time  ;  and 
thus,  with  the  apostle,  /  beseech  you,  1 
beseech  you,  receive  not  the  grace  of  God  in 
vain. 

Now,  that  you  may  be  fruitful,  examine 
well  your  own  hearts  :  pluck  up,  weed  out, 
for  there  are  still  thorns.  Some  will  grow, 
but  he  is  the  happiest  man  who  hath  the 
sharpest  eye  and  the  busiest  hand,  spying 
them  out,  and  plucking  them  up.  Take  heed 
horn  ye  hear  ;  think  it  not  so  easy  a  matter. 
Plough  up,  and  soiv  not  among  thorns.  Jer- 
emiah iv.  3. 

And  above  all,  pray,  pray  before,  after,  and 
in  hearing.  Dart  up  desires  to  God.  He  is 
the  Lord  of  the  harvest,  whose  influence 
doth  all.  The  difference  of  the  soil  makes 
indeed  the  difl'erence  of  success :  but  the 
Lord  hath  the  privilege  of  bettering  the 
soil.  He  who  framed  the  heart  changei 
it  when  and  how  he  will.  There  is  a  curse 
on  all  grounds  naturally,  which  fell  on  the 
earth  for  man's  sake,  but  fell  more  on  the 
ground  of  man's  own  heart  within  him  : 
Thorns  and  briers  shall  thou  bring  forth. 
Now  it  is  He  that  denounceth  that  curse,  who 
alone  hath  power  to  remove  it.  He  is  bothi 
sovereign  owner  of  the  seed,  and  the  changer 
of  the  soil  ;  he  turns  a  wilderness  into  Car- 
mel  by  his  Spirit ;  and  no  ground,  no  heart, 
can  be  good,  till  he  change  it. 

And  being  changed,  much  care  must  be 
had  still  in  manuring;  for  still  that  is  in  it, 
which  will  bring  forth  many  weeds,  is  a 
mother  to  them,  and  but  a  step-mother  to 
ibis  seed.  Therefore, 

Consider  it,  if  you  think  this  concerns  you. 
He  that  hath  an  ear  to  hear,  as  our  Savior 
closes,  let  him  hear.  The  Lord  apply  your 
hearts  to  this  work  ;  and  though  discour- 
agements should  arise  without,  or  within, 
and  little  present  fruit  appear,  but  corruption 
is  rather  stronger  and  greater,  yet,  watch, 
and  pray.  Wait  on;  it  shall  he  better.  This 
fruit  is  to  be  brought  forth  luilh  patience,  as 
St.  Luke  hath  it.  And  this  seed ,  \\u?,  word, 
the  Lord  calls  by  that  very  name,  the  very 
word  of  his  patience.    Keep  it,  hide  it  in  thi^ 


2  Cor.  vii.  1.1  THE  PROMISES  AN  ENCOURAGEMENT  TO  HOLINESS. 


50" 


heart,  and  in  due  time  it  shall  spring  up. 
And  this  patience  shall  be  put  to  it  but  for  a 
little  while.  The  day  of  harvest  is  at  hand, 
whin  all  who  have  been  in  any  measure 
fruitful  in  grace,  shall  be  gathered  into  glory. 


SERMON  XIV. 


2  Cor.  vii.  1. 

Having  thTcfore  these  promises,  dearly  beloved,  let 
us  cleanse  ourselves  from  all  filtliiness  of  the  flesh 
and  spirit,  perfecting  holiness  in  the  fear  of  God. 

It  is  a  thing  both  of  unspeakable  sweet- 
ness and  usefulness,  for  a  Christian  often  to 
consider  theexcellency  of  that  estate  to  which 
he  is  called.  It  can  not  fail  to  j)ut  him  upon 
very  high  resolutions,  and  carry  him  on  in  the 
divine  ambition  of  behaving  daily  more  suit- 
ably to  his  high  calling  and  hopes.  There- 
fore, these  are  often  set  before  Christians  in 
the  Scriptures,  and  are  pressed  here  bv  the 
apostle  upon  a  particular  occasion,  the  avoid- 
ance of  near  coiubincments  with  unbelievers. 
He  mentions  some  choice  jironiises  which 
God  makes  to  his  own  people,  and  speaks  of 
their  near  relation  to,  and  communion  with, 
himself;  and  upon  these,  he  enlarges  and 
raises  the  exhortation  to  the  universal  en- 
deavor of  all  holiness,  and  that  as  aiming  at 
the  very  top  and  highest  deifree  of  it. 

Ill  the  words  are,  I.  The  thing  to  which  he 
would  persuade.    II.  The  motive. 

I.  The  thing  is,  holiness  in  its  full  exten- 
sion and  intention.  Pur^inir  ourselves  from 
all  Jilllnness  of  the  flesh  a?ul  spirit,  and  per- 
fecliriir  holiness  in  the  fear  of  God. 

The  purging  out  of  (ilthiness,  and  the  per- 
fecting of  holiness,  express  those  two  parts  of 
renewing  grace,  mortijicalion  and  vivifir.ation, 
as  usually  they  are  distinguished.  But  I  con- 
ceive they  are  not  so  truly  dillVrent  parts,  as 
a  different  notion  of  the  same  thing,  the  de- 
crease of  sin  and  the  increa>(!  of  grace,  being 
truly  one  thing,  as  are  the  dispelling  of  dark- 
ness atid  the  augmetiting  of  light.  So  here, 
the  one  is  yendcred  as  the  necessary  result, 
yea,  as  the  e(|uivalent  of  the  other,  as  the 
same  thing  indeed  :  ptir<rin<r  fro/nfilthiness, 
and,  in  so  doing,  perfecting  holiness  ;  perfect- 
inn:  holiness,  and,  in  so  doing,  punrimr  from 
filUaness.  By  perfection  is  meant  a  growing, 
progressive  advance  toward  perfection. 

Th','  words,  without  straining,  give  us  as 
it  were  the  several  dimensions  of  holiness. 
The  hmailth — cleansin<;  from  nil  fillhiness  ; 
the  length,  parallel  to  man's  composition,  run- 
ning all  along  through  his  s(juI  and  bodv  — 
from  all  filthmess  of  the  flesh,  and  spirit  ;  the 
hen,rht~-perfectinir  holiness  ;  the  depth  that 
which  is  the  bottom  whence  it  rises  up — a 
deep  Impress  of  the  fear  of  God,  perfecting 
holiness  in  the  fear  of  God. 


j  Let  us  cleanse  ourselres-l  It  is  the  Lord 
;  who  is  the  sanctifier  of  his  people  ;  he  pur- 
'  ges  away  their  dross  and  tin,  he  pours  clean 
water,  acurdins  to  his  promises  :  yet,  doth  he 
call  to  us  to  cleanse  ourselves.  "Even,  having 
such  promises,  let  us  cleanse  ourselves.  He 
puts  a  new  life  into  us,  and  causes  us  to  act, 
and  excites  us  to  excite  it  and  call  it  up  int». 
act  in  the  progress  of  sanciification.  Men 
are  strangely  inclined  to  a  perverse  construc- 
tion of'things.  Tell  them  that  we  are  to  act 
and  work,  and  to  ifzye  all  diligence,  then  they 
would  fancy  a  doing  in  their  own  strength, 
and  be  their  own  saviors.  Again,  tell  them 
that  God  works  all  our  works  in  us,  and  for 
us,  then  they  would  take  the  ease  of  doing 
j  nothing  :  ii'  they  can  not  have  the  praise  of 
doing  all,  they  will  sit  still  with  folded  hands, 
and  use  no  diligence  at  all.  But  this  is  the 
corrupt  logic  ol'  the  flesh,  its  base  sophistry. 
The  apostle  reasons  just  contrary,  Phil.  ii.  12: 
It  IS  God  that  loorketh  in  you  both  to  will  and 
do  ; — therefore,  would  a  carnal  heart  say,  we 
need  not  work,  or  at  least,  may  work  very 
carelessly.  But  he  infers,  Therefore  let  us 
work  out  our  own  salvation  with  fear  and 
Iremhlin'j,  that  is,  in  the  more  humble  obedi- 
I  ence  to  God,  and  dependance  on  him  ;  not  ob- 
structing the  influence  of  his  grace,  and  by 
sloth  and  negligence  provoking  him  to  with- 
draw or  abate  it.  Certainly,  many  in  whom 
there  is  truth  of  grace,  are  ke[)t  low  in  the 
growth  of  it,  by  their  own  slothfulness,  sitting 
still,  and  not  bestirring  themselves,  and  exer- 
cising the  proper  actions  of  that  sj)iritual  life 
by  which  it  is  entertained  and  advances. 

From  all  filthmess.]  All  kinds  of  sinful 
pollutions.  Not  as  men  commonly  do,  reform 
some  things,  and  take  to  themselves  dispen- 
sations in  others,  at  least  in  some  one  pecu- 
liar sin,  their  mistress,  their  Herodias,  or 
their  Delilah  :  no  parting  with  that ;  yea, 
they  rather  forego  many  other  things,  as  a 
kind  of  composition  for  the  retaining  of  it. 

Of  flesh  and  spirit.]  The  whole  man  must 
be  purified  and  consecrated  to  G(jd  ;  not  only 
refined  from  the  gross  outward  acts  of  sin, 
but  from  tlie  inward  affect/on  to  it,  and  from 
the  secret  motions  of  it,  that  so  the  heart, 
like  a  weaned  child  (Psalm  cxxxi.  2),  go  not 
after  it,  which  when  restrained  from  the  out- 
ward commission  of  sin,  it  may  do,  and  very 
often  does;  as  the  Israelites  lusted  after  Ike 
flesh  pots,  their  hearts  remained  in  Egypt 
still,  though  their  bodies  were  brought  out. 
This,  then,  is  to  be  done;  affection  to  sin  is 
to  be  purged  out.  That  is,  we  are  to  cleanse 
the  ground  ;  not  only  to  lop  off  the  branches, 
but  to  dig  about,  and  loosen  and  pluck  up 
the  root.  Though  still  fibres  of  it  will  stick, 
yet  we  ought  still  to  be  finding  them  out,  and 
plucking  them  up. 

Further,  this  applies  not  only  to  the  'nncr 
part  of  all  sins,  but  to  some  sins  that  are  al- 
most wholly  inward,  tliat  bang  not  so  much 
on  the  body,  nor  are  acted  by  it:  those fllthi- 
nes.ies  of  the  spirit  which  are  less  easily  dis 


504 


THE  PROMISES  AN  ENCOURAGEMENT  TO  HOLINESS.    [Ser.  XR 


cenu'il  than  those  of  llip  flcs^li,  and,  as  more 
hardly  disceriieil,  so,  when  discerned,  more 
hardly  purijed  out:  pride,  srlf-lovc,  unl/dicf, 
cui  uKsil  I/,  kc,  which,  liiou;;h  more  retired 
and  refined  sins,  yet  are  pollutions  and  defile- 
ments, yea,  of  tiie  worst  sort,  as  beins  more 
spiritual,  Ji/l/iincss  of  the  spirit.  Fleshly 
polluiioiis  are  thinj^s  of  which  the  devils  are 
not  capable  in  themselves,  though  they  ex- 
cite men  to  them,  and  so  they  are  called  un- 
clean spirits.  But  the  hij^hest  rank  of  sins, 
are  those  that  are  properly  spirilual  wicked- 
nessea.  These  in  men  are  the  chief  strengths 
of  Satan,  the  inner  works  of  his  forts,  and 
strong-holds.  2  Corintliians  x.  4.  Many  who 
are  not  much  tempted  to  the  common  ijross 
sensualities,  who  have,  possibly,  though  in- 
clination to  them,  yet,  a  kind  of  disdain  of 
them,  and  through  educati(jn,  and  morality, 
and  strength  of  reason,  with  somewhat  of 
natural  conscience,  are  carried  above  them, 
yet,  have  many  of  those  hcisihts  the  apostle 
speaks  of,  those  lofty  imn ntnatwns  that  rise 
against  God  and  the  obedience  of  Christ,  all 
which  must  be  demolished. 

Perfecting;  holiness.]  Not  content  with  low 
measures,  with  just  so  much  as  keeps  from 
hell,  but  aspiring  toward  perfection  ;  aiming 
liigh  at  self-victory,  sell'denial,  and  the  love 
of  God  becoming  purer  and  hotter,  like  a  fire, 
growing,  and  flaming  up,  and  consuming  the 
earth.  Though  men  fall  short  of  their  aim, 
yet  it  is  good  to  aim  high  :  thev  shall  shoot  so 
much  the  higher,  though  not  full  so  high  as 
they  aim.  Thus  we  ought  to  be  setting  the 
state  ol'  perfection  in  our  eye,  re>solving  not  to 
rest  content  below  that,  and  to  come  as  near 
it  as  we  can,  even  before  we  come  at  it. 
Not  as  though  1  had  already  attained,  says 
the  apostle,  hut  this  one  thing  I  do  ;  forget- 
ting the  things  which  are  behind,  and  reach- 
tng  forth  unto  those  which  are  before.  J  press 
loviard  the  mark.  Phil.  iii.  11,  12.  This  is  to 
act  as  one  who  hath  such  a  hope,  such  a  state 
in  view,  and  is  siill  advancing  toward  it. 

In  the  fear  of  God.]  There  is  no  working 
but  on  firm  ground  ;  there  are  no  snlid  en- 
deavors in  holiness  where  it  is  n'^t  founded  in 
a  deeply-felt  reverence  of  (lod,  a  desire  to 
please  him  and  to  be  like  him,  which  springs 
from  love.  This  most  men  are  either  wholly 
strangers  to,  or  are  but  slight  and  shallow  in 
it,  and  therefore  make  so  little  true  progress 
in  holiness. 

II.  Then  there  is  the  motive.  Having 
these  promises. .  Being  called  to  so  fair  an  es- 
tate, so  excellent  a  condition,  to  be  the  peo- 
ple, yea,  the  sons  and  daughters  of  God, 
therefore  they  are  called  to  the  coming  forth 
from  Babel,  and  the  separating  themselves 
from  sin,  and  [)urgiiig  it  out.  Holiness  is  his 
image  in  his  children  ;  the  more  there  is  of 
it,  the  more  suitable  are  they  to  that  blessed 
relation  and  dignity,  and  ;he  firmer  are  their 
hopes  of  the  inheriiance  ol  slory. 

Consider  sin  as  a  filthiness:  hate  it.  Oh, 
how  ugly  and  vile  is  lust,  how  deformer'  is 


swelling  pride  !  And  all  sin  is  an  aversion 
from  (5od,  a  casting  of  the  noble  soul  into  the 
;  mire,  the  del'acing  of  all  its  beauty.  Turning 
I  to  present  things,  it  i)ollutes  itself  with  them  . 
he  who  is  c/ad  in  scar/el,  embraces  the  dung- 
hill, as  Jeremiah  it\  another  sense  laments  ^ 

The  purity  of  things  is,  an  uniuirture  and 
simplicity  corresponding  with  their  own  be- 
ing ;  and  such  is  the  purity  of  the  soul  when 
elevated  above  the  earth  and  sense  and  uni- 
led  unto  God,  contemplatina:  him,  and  de- 
fighting  in  him.  All  inordinate  bent  to  the 
creatures,  or  to  itself  (which  is  the  first  and 
main  disorder),  doth  defile  and  debase  it.  And 
the  more  it  is  sublimed  and  freed  from  itself 
the  purer  and  more  heavenly  it  grows,  and 
partakes  the  more  of  God,  and  resembles  him 
the  more. 

This,  then,  is  to  be  our  main  study;  first, 
to  search  out  our  iniquities,  the  particular  de- 
filements of  our  nature;  not  only  gross  filthi- 
ness, drunkenness,  lasciviousness,  &c.,  but  our 
love  of  this  earth,  or  of  air,  our  vanity  of 
mind,  our  self-will  and  self-seeking.  Most 
persons,  even  most  Christians,  are  short- 
sighted in  respect  to  their  own  secret  evils, 
filthiness  of  the  .spirit  especially,  and  use 
little  diligence  in  this  inquiry.  They  do  not 
seek  light  from  God,  to  go  in  before  him,  and 
to  lead  them  into  themselves,  as  the  prophet 
had  in  the  discovery  of  idolatries  at  Jerusa- 
lem. Oh !  that  we  could  once  see  what 
heaps  of  abominations  lie  hid  in  us,  one  be- 
hind another ! 

Then,  having  searched  out,  we  must  fol- 
low on  to  purge  out :  we  are  not  to  pass  over, 
nor  to  spare  any,  but  to  delight  most  in  cast- 
ing out  the  best  beloved  sin,  the  choicest 
idol,  that  hath  had  most  of  our  service  and 
sacrifices,  to  make  room  for  Jesus  Christ. 

And  never  cease  m  this  work,  lor  siill  there 
is  need  of  more  purifying.  One  day's  work 
in  this,  disposes  for,  and  engages  to  a  further, 
to  the  next :  lor,  as  sin  is  purged  out,  light 
1  comes  in,  and  more  clear  discoveries  are 
made  of  remaining  pollutions.  So,  then,  still 
there  must  be  progress,  less  of  the  world,  and 
more  of  God  in  the  heart  every  day.  Oh  ! 
this  is  a  sweet  course  of  life.  What  gain, 
what  preferment  is  to  be  compared  to  it  ? 

And  in  this,  it  is  good  to  have  our  ambi- 
tion growing;  the  higher  we  rise,  to  aspire 
still  the  higher,  looking  further  than  before, 
even  towanl  the  perfection  of  holiness.  It  is 
not  much  we  can  here  attain  to,  but  surely  , 
it  is  commonly  far  less  than  we  might ;  we 
improve  not  our  condition  and  advantages  as 
we  might  do.  The  world  are  busy  driving 
forward  their  designs.  Men  of  spirit  are  ani' 
mated  both  by  better  and  by  worse  success* 
if  anything  miscarry,  it  sets  them  on  the 
more  eagerly  to  make  it  up,  in  the  right  man- 
agement of  some  other  design:  and  when 
they  prosper  in  one  thing,  that  enables  and 
I  encourages  them  to  attempt  further.  Shall 
all  other  things  seem  worth  our  pains  i  Are 
,  only  grace  and  glory  so  cheap  in  our  account., 


Psalm  cxix.  32.] 


GRACE  AND  OBEDIENCE. 


505 


that  the  least  diligence  of  all  goes  that  way  ? 
Oh,  strange  delusion  ! 

Now,  our  cleansing  is  to  be  managed  by 
all  holy  means;  the  word  and  sacrament 
more  wisely  and  spiritually  used  than  com- 
monly they  are  with  us  :  and  private  jirayer, 
wbich  purifies  and  elevates  the  soul,  takes  it 
up  into  the  mount,  and  makes  it  shine;  and 

f)articularly,  supplicating  for  the  Spirit  of  ho- 
iness  and  for  victory  over  sin,  is  not  in  vain  ; 
—the  soul  obtains  its  desires  of  God,  becom- 
ng  that  which  it  is  fixedly  set  upon ;  holy 
resolutio7c  ; — Christians  are  much  wanting 
in  this,  are  faint  and  loose  in  their  purposes ; 
— the  consideration  of  Divine  truths,  the 
mysteries  of  the  kingdom,  the  hope  of  Chris- 
tians, yea,  rich  and  great  promises,  that  is 
particularly  here  the  motive:  these  are  all 
the  means,  and  holy  means  they  are,  as  their 
end  is,  the  perfection  of  holiness. 

Having-  these  promises.]  Now  consider 
whether  it  is  better  to  be  the  slaves  of  Satan, 
or  the  sons  of  God.  Measure  delight  in  God, 
with  the  low,  base  pleasures  of  sense.  Bles- 
sed are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see 
God :  these  gradually  go  on  together,  and  are 
perfected  together. 

Why,  then,  is  there  such  an  invincible  love 
of  sin  in  the  hearts  of  men?  At  least,  why 
so  little  love  of  holiness,  and  endeavor  after 
it,  so  mean  thoughts  of  it,  as  a  thing  either 
indecent  or  unpleasant,  when  it  is  the  only 
noble  and  the  only  delisrhtful  thing  in  the 
world  ?  The  soul  by  other  things  is  drawn 
below  itself,  but  by  holiness  it  is  raised  above 
itself,  and  made  divine.  The  pleasures  of 
sin  are  for  a  season:  they  are  the  pleasures 
of  a  mcjuient  exchanged  for  those  of  eternity. 
But  even  in  the  mean  time,  in  this  season, 
the  holy  soul  is  fed  with  communion  with 
God,  one  hour  of  which  is  of  more  worth 
than  the  lonsrest  life  of  the  highest  of  the 
world's  delights. 


SERMON  XV. 

GRACE  AND  OBEDIENCE. 

Psalm  cxix.  32. 

I  will  run  the  way  of  thy  commandmpnts,  when  thou 
shall  enhirgp  my  heart. 

To  desire  ease  and  happiness,  under  a  gen- 
eral representation  of  it,  is  a  thing  of  more 
easy  and  general  persuasion  ;  there  is  some- 
wliat  in  nature  to  help  the  argument.  But  to 
find  beauty  in,  and  be  taken  with,  the  very 
waif  of  holiness  that  leads  to  it,  is  more  rare, 
and  depends  on  a  hi^^her  principle.  Self-lore 
inclines  a  man  to  desire  the  rest  of  love,  but 
to  love  and  desire  the  labor  of  Inve,  is  love  of 
a  higher  and  purer  strain.  To  deliiiht  and 
be  cheerful  in  obedience,  argues  much  love 
as  the  spring  of  it.  That  is  the  thing  the 
holy  psaltnist  doth  so  plentifully  express  in 
this  Psalm,  and  he  is  still  desiring  xn  yre  of 
that  sweet  and  livelv  alTecfion  that  night 
fi4 


make  him  yet  more  abundant  in  action.  Thus 
here,  J  u-ill  run,  &c.  He  presents  his  desire 
and  his  purpose  together,  y.  d..  The  more  of 
this  grace  thou  bestowest  3a  me,  the  more 
service  shall  I  be  able  to  do  thee. 

This  is  the  top  of  his  ambition,  while  oth- 
ers are  seeking  to  enlarge  their  barns,  their 
lands  or  estates,  or  their  titles  ;  and  kings  to 
enlarge  their  territories  or  authority,  to  en- 
croach on  neighboring  kingdoms,  or  be  more 
absolute  in  their  own  ;  instead  of  all  such  en- 
largements, this  is  David's  great  desire,  an 
enlarged  heart  to  run  the  way  of  God's  com- 
mandments. 

And  these  other  (how  big  soever  they 
sound)  are  poor  narrow  desires:  this  one  is 

j  larger  and  higher  than  them  all,  and  gives 
evidence  of  a  heart  already  large.  But  as  it 
is  miserable  in  those  desires,  so  it  is  happy 

I  in  this,  that  much  would  still  have  more. 

I  Let  others  seek  more  money,  or  more  hon- 
ot-,  oh  !  the  blessed  choice  of  that  soul  that  is 
still  seeking  more  love  to  God,  more  affection, 
and  more  ability  to  do  him  service  :  that 
counts  all  days  and  hours  for  lost,  which  are 
not  employed  to  this  improvement  ;  that 
hears  the  word  in  public,  and  reads  it  in  pri- 
vate for  this  purpose,  to  kindle  this  love,  or  to 

J  blow  the  spark,  if  any  there  be  already  in  the 
heart,  to  raise  it  lo  a  clear  flame,  and  from  a 
little  Hame  to  make  it  burn  yet  hotter  and 
purer,  and  rise  higher:  but,  above  all  means, 
is  often  presenting  this  in  prayer  to  him  on 
whose  influence  all  depends,  in  whose  hand 
our  hearts  are,  much  more  than  in  our  own. 
It  follows  him  with  this  desire,  and  works  on 
him  by  his  own  interest.  Though  there  can 
be  really  no  accession  of  gain  to  him  by  our 
services,  yet,  he  is  pleased  so  to  account  with 
us  as  if  there  were.  Therefore  we  may  urge 
this:  Lord,  jrive  more,  and  receive  more:  1 
will  run  the  way  of  thy  commandments,  when 
thou  shalt  enlari^e  my  heart. 

We  have  here  in  the  words  a  required  dis- 
position, and  a  suitable  resolution.  The  dis- 
position relates  to  the  resolution,  as  the 
means  of  fulfilling  it :  and  the  resolution  re- 
lates to  the  disposition,  both  as  the  end  of 
desiring  it,  and  as  the  motive  of  obtaining  it. 
The  resolution  occurs  first  in  the  words, 

I  will  run,  &c.  I  The  way  resolved  on,  is, 
that  of  God's  commandments  ;  not  the  road 
of  the  polluted  world,  not  the  crooked  ways 
of  his  own  heart,  hut  the  highway,  the  royal 

!  way,  the  straisfht  way  of  the  kingdom,  and 

j  that  in  the  noti(jn  of  subjection  and  obedi- 
ence, the  way  of  thy  commandments.  This, 

I  man  naturally  struggles  against,  and  repines 
at.  To  be  limited  and  bounded  by  a  law  is  a 
restraint  ;  and  vain  man  could  possibly  find 
in  his  heart  to  do  many  of  the  same  things 
that  are  commanded,  but  he  would  not  be 
tied,  would  have  his  liberty,  and  do  it  of  his 

I  own  choice.  This  is  the  enmityof  the  carnal 
mind  against  God,  as  the  apostle  expresses 
it  :  it  is  not  suhjecr.  to  the  law  of  God,  neither 

I  can  it  be  ;  it  breaks  these  bonds,  and  casta 


GRACE  AND  OBEDIENCE. 


away  tlie  cords  of  his  authority.  Tins  is  sin,  which  W  they  attain  not,  l.icy  are  nothing 
(lie  irausgrcssioii  of  the  htw  :  and  this  made  This  end  is  to  nioriil'y  and  j)urify  the  heart, 
tlie  first  sin  so  ijreat,  ihoUi^h  in  a  matter  one  to  mould  it  to  the  way  of  (iod's  command- 
Would  think  small,  the  eating  of  the  fruit  of  ments  in  the  whole  track  of  our  lives  ;  in  our 
a  tree:  it  was  rebellion  iiirainst  the  majesty  '  private  converse  one  with  another,  and  our 
of  (rod,  casting  ofi'  iiis  law  ;uul  authority,  and  retired  secret  converse  with  ourselves,  to  have 
aspiring  to  an  imaijined  si'lf  deity.  And  liiis  God  still  before  us,  and  his  law  our  rule,  in 
is  still  the  treasonable  jiridc  or  independ- !  ail  we  do,  that  he  may  be  onr  meditation  day 
ency,  and  wickedness  of  t>ur  nature,  rising  up  '  and  night,  and  that  his  law  may  be  our  co«n« 
against  God  who  formed  us  of  nt)thing.  -  sellor,  as  this  Psalm  hath  it  ;  to  regulate  all 
And  this  is  the  power  and  substance  of  re-  our  designs  and  the  works  of  our  callings  by 
ligion,  the  new  impress  of  God  upon  the  it ;  to  ■Wi\\k  soher/jj,  and  ff-ot/h/,  ti/id  r7  <:hteoufS' 
heart,  obedience  and  resignrnenl  to  him.  To  |  hj,  in  this  presoit  icorld  ;  to  curb  and  cross 
be  given  up  to  hiin  as  entirely  his,  to  be  i  our  own  wills  where  thev  cross  God's  ;  to 
moulded  and  ordered  as  he  will,  to  be  sub-  '  deny  ourselves  our  own  humor  and  pride,  our 
ject  to  his  laws  and  ai)poinlments  in  all  passions  and  pleasures,  to  have  all  these  sub- 
things,  to  have  every  action,  and  every  word,  dued  and  brought  under  by  the  power  of  the 
under  a  rule  and  law,  and  the  penalty  to  be  law  of  love  within  us — this,  and  nothing  be- 
so  high,  eternal  death  ;  all  this  to  a  carnal  or  I  low  this,  is  the  end  of  religion  !  Alas  !  among 
haughty  mind  is  hard.  Not  only  every  action  multitudes  who  are  called  Christians,  soKie 
and  every  word,  but  even  every  thought  too,  there  may  be  who  sjieak  and  ap])ear  like  it, 
nmst  be  subject  ;  the  soul  is  not  so  much  afe  ;  yet  how  few  are  there  who  make  this  tbtir 
thought-free.  Evenj  thou2;ht  is  brought  into  j  business,  and  aspire  to  this,  the  way  of  God's 
ca/itifil'i/,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  2  Cor.  x.  5  :   commandments .' 

and  so  the  licentious  mind  accounts  ii.  Not  His  intended  course  in  this  way,  the  psalm- 
only  the  affections  and  desires,  but  the  very  ist  expresses  by  rvnning.  It  is  good  to  be  in 
reasonings  and  imaginations  are  brought  un- '  this  way  even  in  the  slowest  motions.  Love 
der  this  law.  will  creep  where  it  can  not  go.    But  if  thou 

Now,  to  yield  this  as  reasonable  and  due  I  art  so  indeed,  then  thou  wilt  long  for  a  swilter 
to  God:  to  own  his  sovereignty,  and  to  ac- '  motion.  If  thou  do  but  creep,  be  doing,  creep 
knowledge  the  law  to  be  A()/)/,j!/.s7,  a«a  o-ooc/;  I  on,  yet  desire  to  be  enabled  to  go.  If  thou 
to  approve,  yea,  to  love  it,  even  where  it  1  goest,  but  yet  halting  and  lamely,  desire  to  be 
most  contradicts  and  controls  our  own  corrupt  strengthened  to  walk  .straight  ;  and  if  thou 
will  and  the  law  of  sin  in  our  flesh  :  this  is  :  walkest,  let  not  that  satisfy  ihce — desire  to 
true  spiritual  obedience  ;  to  study  and  inquire  I  r?/«.  So  here  David  did  xoalk  in  this  way, 
after  the  will  of  God  in  all  our  ways,  what  :  but  he  earnestly  wishes  to  mend  his  pace:  he 
will  ph  ase  him.  and  having  found  it,  to  fol-  would  willingly  run,  and  for  that  end  he  de- 
low  that  which  is  here  called  the  way  of  his  j  sires  an  enlarged  h':art. 

comminidmcnts  ;  to  make  this  07/r  way,  and  j  Some  dispute  and  descant  too  much  wheth- 
our  business  in  the  world,  and  all  other  things  er  they  go  or  not,  and  childishly  tell  their 
but  accessories  and  by-works,  even  those  law-  steps,  and  would  know  at  every  pace  whelh- 
ful  things  that  may  be  taken  in,  and  used  as  \  er  they  advance  or  not,  and  how  much  they 
helps  in  our  way  :  as  the  disciples  passing  advance,  and  thus  amuse  themselves,  and 
throu<rh  th-  corn,  plucked  the  ears  and  did  sjiend  the  time  of  doing  and  going,  in  ques- 
eat  it  passin^-  as  a  by-work,  but  their  busi-  i  tioning  and  doubting.  Thus  it  is  with  many 
ness  was  to  UA\ovf  their  Master.  And  what-  j  Christians.  But  it-  were  a  more  wise  and 
soever  would  hinder  us  in  this  way,  must  be  comfortable  way,  to  be  endeavoring  onward, 
watched  and  guarded  against.  To  effect  that,  '  and,  if  thou  make  little  progress,  at  least  to 
we  must  either  remove  and  thrust  it  aside,  or  be  desiring  to  make  more  ;  to  be  praying  and 
il'  we  can  not  do  that,  yet  we  must  go  over  it,  walking,  and  praying  that  thou  may  est  walk 
and  trample  it  under  foot,  were  it  the  thing  faster,  and  that  in  the  end  thou  niayest  run  ; 
or  the  person  that  is  dearest  to  us  in  the  |  not  to  be  satisfied  wiih  anything  attained,  but 
world.  Till  the  heart  be  brought  to  this  state  '  yet,  by  that  unsatisfiedness,  not  to  be  so  de- 
and  purpose,  it  is  either  wholly  void  of,  or  |  jected  as  to  sit  down,  or  stand  still,  but  ra- 
very  low  and  weak  in  the  truth  of,  religion.    ,  iher  excited  to  go  on.    So  it  was  with  St. 

We  place  religion  much  in  our  accustomed  i  Paul,  Phil.  iii.  13:  Forgetting  the  things 
performances,  in  coming  to  church,  hearing  !  \chich  arc  behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto 
and  repeating  of  sermons,  and  praying  at  |  those  things  which  are  before,  I  press  for* 
home,  keeping  a  round  of  such  and  such  du-  ward.  If  any  one  thinks  that  he  haih  done 
ties.  The  way  of  (iod's  commandments  is  !  well  and  run  far,  and  will  take  a  pause,  the 
more  in  doin<r  than  in  discourse.  In  many,  great  apostle  is  of  another  mind  :  i\ot  as  if  I 
religion  evaporates  itself  too  much  out  by  the  \  had  a/ready  attained.  Oh,  no  !  far  from  that, 
tongue,  while  it  appears  too  little  in  their  |  he  still  sets  forward,  as  if  nothing  were  done  : 
vjfiys.  Oh  !  hut  this  is  the  main  :  one  act  of  '  like  a  runner,  not  still  looking  hack  to  see 
charity,  meekness,  or  humility,  speaks  more  how  much  he  hath  run,  but  forward  to  what 
than  a  day's  discourse.  All  the  means  v/e  use  he  is  to  run,  stretching  forth  to  tha  t,  inflamed 
m  religi''"   are  intended  for  a  further  end,  with  frequent  looks  at  the  mark  and  er.d. 


PsAL3i  cxix  32.] 


GRACE  AND  OBEDIENCE. 


507 


Some  are  retarded  by  looking  on  what  is  past, 
as  not  satisfied  :  ihey  have  done  nothing,  as 
they  think,  and  so  stand  still  discontented. 
But  even  in  that  way,  it  is  not  good  to  look 
too  much  to  things  behind  :  we  must  forget 
them  rather,  and  press  onward. 

Some,  if  ihey  have  gone  on  well,  and  pos- 
sibly run  for  a  while,  yet,  if  they  fall,  tlien 
they  are  ready,  in  a  desperate  malcontent,  to 
lie  still,  and  think  all  is  lost ;  and  in  this  peev- 
sh  fretting  at  their  falls,  some  men  please 
Jiemselves,  and  take  it  for  repentance,  where- 
as indeed  it  is  not  that,  but  ratiier  pride  and 
humor.  Repentance  is  a  more  submissive, 
humble  thing.  But  this  is  what  troubles 
some  men  at  their  new  falls  (especially  if  af- 
ter a  long  time  of  even  walking  or  running), 
they  think  their  project  is  now  spoiled,  their 
thouglits  are  broken  off:  they  would  have 
had  somewhat  to  rejoice  in,  if  they  had  still 
gone  on  to  the  end,  but  being  disa[)point- 
ed  of  that,  they  think  they  had  as  sjood  let 
alone,  and  give  over.  Oh  !  but  the  humble 
Christian  is  better  tausrht :  his  falls  teach  him 
indeed  to  abhor  himself;  they  discover  his 
own  weakness  to  him,  and  empty  him  of  self- 
trust  ;  but  they  do  not  dismay  him  to  get  up 
and  go  on,  not  boldly  and  carelessly  foraret- 
ting  his  fail,  but  in  the  humble  sense  of  it, 
walking  the  more  warily,  yet  not  the  less 
swiftly  ;  yea,  the  more  swiftly  too,  making 
the  more  haste  to  regain  the  lime  lost  by  the 
fall.  So  then  if  you  would  run  in  this  way, 
depend  on  the  strength  of  (rod,  and  on  his 
Spirit  leading  ihee,  that  so  thou  mayest  lUJt 
fail.  And  yet  if  thou  dosi  fall,  arise,  and,  if 
thou  art  [)lun2ed  in  the  mire,  go  to  the  Foun- 
tain opened  lor  sin  and  uncleanness,  and  wash 
there  ;  bemoan  thyself  before  ihy  Lord  ;  and 
if  hurt  and  bleeding  by  thy  fall,  yet  look  to 
him,  desire  Jesus  to  pity  thee,  and  bind  up 
and  cure  tliy  wound,  washing  olf  thy  blood, 
and  pouring  in  of  his  own. 

However  it  is  with  thee,  give  not  over, 
faint  not,  run  on.  And  that  thou  mayest  run 
the  more  aasily  and  expeditely,  iiiake  thyself 
as  light  as  may  be,  lay  axide.  evnri/  loenr/U. 
Hebrews  xii.  1,2.  Clog  not  thyself  wiih  un- 
necessary burdens  of  earth,  and  especiallv  lay 
aside  that  which,  of  all  things,  weighs  the 
heaviest,  and  cleaves  the  closest,  the  sm  lliat 
so  easih/  licsrls  ?/.s-,  and  is  so  hardly  |)Ut  off  us, 
that  f)lds  so  C(jnnalurally  to  us,  and  we  there- 
fore think  will  not  iiinder  us  much.  And  not 
only  the  sins  that  are  more  outward,  but  the 
mner,  close-cleaving  sins,  the  sin  that  most 
of  all  sits  easily  to  us  ;  not  only  our  cloak,  but 
our  inner  coat,  away  with  that  too,  as  our 
Savior  says  in  another  case  :  and  run  ihf.  race 
te;  before  us,  our  ap[)oiiiled  stage,  and  thai 
tr;.(i  patience,  under  all  op[)ositiuiis  and  dis- 
couragemenis  from  the  world  without,  and 
from  sin  within.  And  to  encourage  thee  in 
this,  look  to  such  a  c/ouil  of  minessex,  that 
compasselh  us  about  to  furiher  us,  as  trou- 
bles, t«iii|)iatioas,  and  sin,  do  to  hinder  us. 
They  encountered  the  like  sutfering-s,  and 


were  encumbered  with  the  like  sins  :  and  yet, 
they  ran  on,  and  2;0t  home.  Alexander  would 
have  run  in  the  Olympic  games,  if  be  had  had 
kiniis  to  run  with  :  now,  in  this  race,  kings 
and  prophets,  and  rigliteous  persons,  run , 
yea,  all  are  indeed  a  kmgli/  generation,  each 
one  heir  to  a  crown  as  the  prize  of  this  race. 

And  if  these  encourage  but  little,  then  laoi 
beyond  them,  above  that  cloud  of  witnesses, 
to  the  sun,  the  Sun  of  Riglitcousness  ;  look- 
ing off  from  al!  things  here,  that  would  either 
entangle  thee  or  discourage  thee,  taking  thine 
eye  off  from  them,  and  looking  to  him  who 

1  will  powerfully  draw  thee  and  animate  thee. 

I  Look  to  Jcsits,  not  only  as  thy  forerunner  in 
this  race,  but  also  as  thy  undertaker  in  it,  the 
author  and  finisher  of  our  faith.    His  altain- 

;  ing  the  end  of  the  race,  is  the  pledge  of  thy 
attaining,  if  thou  follow  him  cheerfully  on 
the  same  encouragements  that  he  looked  to: 

I  Who  for  Ike  jotj  that  teas  set  hrfora  him,  en- 
dured the  cross,  and  despised  the  shame,  and 
is  noiv  set  down  at  the  rii^ht  hand  of  God. 

\  When  thou  shall  enlarge  my  heart.]  -In  all 
beings,  the  heart  is  the  princijjle  of  motion, 
and  according  as  it  is  more  or  less  perfect  in 
its  kind,  those  motions  which  flow  from  it, 
are  more  or  less  vigorous.  Therefore  hath 
the  psalmist  good  reason,  to  the  end  his 
spiritual  course  may  be  the  sieadfasler  and 
the  faster,  to  desire  that  the  })rinciple  of  it, 
the  heart,  may  be  more  enabled  aiul  disposed, 
which  he  here  expresses  by  its  being  enlarged. 

j  What  this  enlargement  of  the  heart  is,  a 
man's  own  inward  sense  should  easily  ex- 
plain to  him.  Surely  it  would,  did  men  re- 
flect on  it,  and  were  they  ac(juainted  with 
their  own  hearts:  l)Ui  the  most  are  not.  They 
would  find  the  carnal  natural  heart  a  narrow, 
contracted,  hampered  thing,  bound  wilh  cords 
and  chains  of  its  own  twisting  and  forging, 
and  so  incapable  of  walking,  much  less  of  run- 

[  ning,  in  this  way  of  God's  commandments, 
till  it  be  freed  and  enlarged. 

The  heart  is  taken  generally  in  Scripture 
for  the  whole  soul,  the  understanding  and  the 
will,  in  its  several  affections  and  motions  ;  and 
the  ()lirase  being  here  of  an  enlarged  heart, 
it  seems  very  congruous  to  take  it  in  the  most 
enlarged  sense. 

1     It  is  said  of  Solomon,  that  he  had  a  large 

[  heart  (the  same  word  that  is  here),  as  the 
sand  on  the  seashore,  1  Kings  iv.  29  ;  that  is, 
a  vast  comprehensive  spirit,  that  could  fath- 
om nmch  of  nature,  both  its  greater  and  les- 
ser things.  He  spake  of  trees,  from  the  cedar 
in  Lebanon,  to  the  hyssop  on  the  wall,  and  of 
great  beasts,  and  small  creeping  things. — 
Thus,  I  conceive,  the  enlargement  of  the  heart 
conipriseth  the  enlightening  of  the  under- 
standing. There  arises  a  clearer  light  there, 
to  discern  spiritual  things  in  a  more  spiritual 

'  manner  ;  to  se<;  the  vast  difference  between  the 
vain  things  the  world  goes  afler,  and  the  true, 
solid  deli<jht  that  is  the;  uvn/  of  (iod's  com- 
mandments  ;  to  know  the  false  blush  of  the 

\  pleasures  of  sin,  aud  what  deformity  is  uiide' 


508  GRACE  AND 

that  raintpd  niaA,  an^  not  be  allured  by  it  ; 
to  have  enlarired  apprehensions  of  God.  '  His 
excelleney,and  arealness,  and  goodness  ;  how 
worthy  he  is  to  he  obeyed  and  served.  This 
is  the  creat  diirniiy  and  hapjiiness  of  the  soul  ; 
all  other  pretensions  are  low  and  poor,  in  re- 
spect of  this.  Here,  then,  is  enlarffement,  to 
see  the  purity  and  beauty  of  his  law,  how 
just  and  reasonable,  yea,  how  pleasant  and 
amiable  it  is;  that  fus>comrnr/n(/mrnts  are  not. 
grievous;  that  they  are  beds  of  spices,  the 
more  we  walk  in  them,  still  tbe  more  of  their 
fragrant  smell  and  sweetness  we  find. 

And  then,  consequently,  upon  the  larofer 
and  clearer  knowledge  of  these  things,  the 
heart  dilates  itself  in  affection  :  the  more  it 
knows  of  God,  still  the  more  it  loves  him, 
and  the  less  it  loves  this  present  world.  Love 
is  the  great  e?ihir<rr'r  of  the  heart,  to  all  obe- 
dience. Then  nothing  is  hard,  vea,  the  harder 
things  become  the  more  delightful. 

All  love  of  other  things  doth  pinch  and  con- 
tract the  heart,  for  they  are  all  narrower  than 
itself.  It  is  framed  to  that  wideness  in  its 
first  creation,  capable  of  enjoyinsr  God,  though 
not  of  a  full  comprehending  of  him.  There- 
fore, all  other  things  gather  it  in,  and  straiten 
it  from  its  natural  size ;  only  the  love  of  God 
stretches  and  dilates  it.  He  is  large  enough 
for  It,  yea,  it,  in  its  fullest  enlargement,  is  in- 
finitely too  narrow  for  him.  Do  not  all  find 
it  if  they  will  ask  themselves,  that  in  all  oth- 
er loves  and  pursuits  in  this  world,  there  is 
Still  somewhat  that  pinches  ?  The  soul  is  not 
at  itfe  full  size,  but,  as  a  foot  in  a  strait  shoe, 
is  somewhere  bound  and  pained,  and  can  not 
go  freely,  much  less  run  :  though  another 
who  looks  on,  can  not  tell  where,  vet  each 
one  feels  it.  But  when  the  soul  is  set  free 
from  these  narrow  things,  and  is  raised  to  the 
love  of  God,  then  is  ii  at  ease  and  at  large, 
and  hath  room  enough  :  it  is  both  elevnied 
and  dilated.  And  this  word  signifies  a  hii^h- 
raised  soul,  and  is  sometimes  taken  for  proud 
and  lofty  ;  but  there  is  a  srrentnrss  and  hri<;ht 
of  spirit  in  the  love  of  God  and  union  with 
him,  that  doth  not  vainly  swell  and  lift  it  up, 
but  with  the  deepest  humility,  joins  the  high- 
est and  truest  masrnanimity. '  It  sets  the  soul 
above  the  snares  that  lie  here  below,  in  which 
most  men  creep  and  are  entangled,  in  that 
way  of  Ufe,  which  is  on  hi^h  to  the  just,  as 
I'Solomon  speaks. 

Good  reason  hath  David  to  join  these  to- 
gether, and  to  desire  the  one  as  the  spring 
and  cause  of  the  other:  an  enlarged  heart, 
that  he  might  run  the  xoay  of  God's  command- 
ments. 

Sensible  joys  and  consolations  in  God  do 
encourage  and  enlarge  the  heart  ;  but  these 
are  not  so  general  to  all,  nor  so  constant  to 
any.  Love  is  the  abounding  fixed  sprins  of 
ready  obedience,  and  will  make  the  heart 
cheerful  in  serving  God,  even  without  those 
felt  comforts,  when  he  is  pleased  to  deny  or 
withdraw  them. 

In  that  course  or  race,  are  understood  con- 


OBEDIENCE.  [Ser.  XV 

slancy,  activity,  and  alacrity  ;  and  all  these 
flow  from  the  enlargement  of  the  heart. 

1.  Constancy.  A  narrow  enthralled  heart, 
fettered  with  the  love  of  lower  things,  and 
cleaving  to  some  particular  sins,  or  but  some 
one,  and  that  in  secret,  may  keep  foot  a  while 
in  the  way  of  God's  commandments,  in  some 
steps  of  them  ;  but  it  must  give  up  quickly,  ii 
not  able  to  run  on  to  the  end  of  the  goal.  But 
a  heart  that  hath  laid  aside  every  weight, 
and  the  most  close-cleaving  and  besetting  sin 
(as  it  is  in  that  forccited  place  in  the  epistle 
to  the  Hebrews),  hath  stripped  itself  of  all 
that  may  falter  or  entangle  it,  it  runs,  and 
runs  on,  without  fainting  or  wearying;  it  is 
at  large,  hath  nothing  that  pains  it  in  the  race. 

2.  Activity.  Not  only  holding  on,  but  run- 
ning, which  is  a  swift,  nimble  race.  It  stands 
not  barsjaining  and  disputing,  but  once  know- 
ing God's  mind,  there  is  no  more  question  or 
demur.  /  made  haste  and  delayed  not,  as  in 
this  psalm  the  word  is,  did  not  stay  upon  why 
and  wherefore:  he  stood  not  to  reason  the 
matter,  but  ran  on.  And  this  love,  enlarging 
the  heart,  makes  it  abundant  in  the  work  of 
the  Lord,  quick  and  active,  despatching  much 
in  a  little  time. 

3.  Alacriti/.  All  is  done  with  cheei fulness, 
so,  no  other  constraint  is  needful,  where  this 
overpowering,  sweet  constraint  of  love  is.  1 
will  run,  not  be  hauled  and  drawn  as  by  force, 
but  skip  and  leap  :  as  the  evangelic  promise 
is,  that  the  lame  shall  leap  as  a  hart,  and  the 
tongue  of  the  dumb  sing  ;  for  in  the  wilder- 
ness shall  waters  break  out,  and  streams  in  the  < 
desert.  Isa.  xxxv.  6.  The  Spouse  desires  her 
Beloved  to  hasten  as  a  roe  and  hind  on  the 
mountain  of  spices,  and  she,  doth  so,  a.  ^  each 
faithful  soul  runs  toward  him,  to  meet  him 
in  his  way. 

It  is  a  sad  heavy  thing  to  do  anything  as  in 
obedience  to  God,  while  the  heart  is  straiten- 
ed, not  enlarged  toward  him  by  Divine  love  ; 
but  that  once  taking  possession  and  enlarging 
the  heart,  that  inward  principle  of  obedience 
makes  the  outward  obedience  sweet  ;  it  is 
then  a  natural  motion.  Indeed,  the  soul  runs 
in  the  ways  of  God,  as  the  sun  in  his  course, 
which  finds  no  difficulty,  being  naturally  fitted 
and  carried  to  that  motion  ;  he  goes  forth  as 
a  bridegroom,  and  rejoiceth  as  a  strong  man 
to  run  a  race. 

This  is  the  great  point  which  our  souls 
should  be  studious  of,  to  attain  more  evenness, 
and  nimbleness,  and  cheerfulness,  in  the  ways 
I  of  God  ;  and  for  this  end  we  ought  to  seek 
above  all  things  this  enlarged,  heart.  It  is 
the  want  of  this  makes  us  bog,  and  drive 
heavily,  and  run  long  upon  litile  ground.  Oh, 
my  beloved,  how  shallow  and  narrow  areoui 
thoughts  of  God  !  Most  even  of  those  who 
are  truly  godly,  yet,  are  led  on  by  a  kind  of 
instinct,  and  carried  they  scarcely  know  how, 
to  give  some  attendance  on  God's  worship, 
and  to  the  avoidance  of  gross  sin,  and  go  on 
in  a  blameness  course.  It  is  better  thus  than 
to  run  to  excess  of  riot  and  open  wickedness, 


Rom.  viii.  33,  34.j  GRACE  AND 

with  the  ungodly  world.  But,  alas  !  this  is 
but  a  dull,  heavy  and  hmsuid  motion,  where 
the  heart  is  not  enhirsed  by  the  daily  ffrowin^ 
iove  of  God.  Few,  few  are  acquainted  with 
that  delightful  contemplation  of  God,  which 
ventilates  and  raises  this  flame  of  love.  Petty 
things  bind  and  contract  our  spirits,  so  that 
they  feel. little  joy  in  God,  little  ardent,  active 
desire  to  do  him  service,  to  crucify  sin,  to 
break  and  undo  self-love  within  us,  to  root  up 
our  own  wills  to  make  room  for  his,  that  his 
alone  may  be  ours,  that  we  may  have  no  will 
of  our  own,  that  our  daily  work  may  be  to 
grow  more  like  iiim  in  the  beauty  of  holiness. 
You  think  it  a  hard  saying,  to  part  with  your 
carnal  lusts  and  delights,  and  the  common 
ways  of  the  world,  and  to  be  tied  to  a  strict, 
3xact  conversation  all  your  days.  But  oh  ! 
the  reason  of  this  is,  because  the  heart  is  yet 
straitened  and  enthralled  by  the  base  love  of 
these  mean  things,  and  that  arises  from  the 
ignorance  u{  things  higher  and  better  One 
ghince  of  God,  a  touch  of  his  love,  will  free 
and  enlarge  tlie  heart,  so  that  it  can  deny  all, 
and  part  wiih  all,  and  make  an  entire  re- 
nouncing of  all,  to  follow  him.  It  sees  enough 
in  liim,  and  in  him  alone,  and  therefore,  can 
neither  quietly  rest  on,  nor  earnestly  desire 
anything  beside  him. 

(Jh  !  that  you  would  apply  your  hearts  to 
consider  the  excellency  of  this  way  of  God's 
commandments !  Our  wretclied  hearts  are 
prejudiced  ;  they  think  it  melancholy  and  sad. 
Oh  !  there  is  no  way  truly  joyous  but  this. 
^  T/iti/  shall  sini^'  in  the  ways  of  the  Lord,  says 
the  psahnist.  Psalm  cxxxviii.  5.  Do  not  men, 
when  their  eyes  are  opened,  see  a  beauty  in 
meekness,  and  temperance,  and  humility,  a 
present  delightfulness  and  quietness  in  them  ? 
Whereas  in  pride  and  passion,  and  intemper- 
ance, there  is  nothing  but  vexation  and  dis- 
quiet. And  then  consider  tlie  end  of  this 
way,  and  of  this  race  in  it,  rest  and  peace  for 
ever.  It  is  the  way  of  fence,  both  in  its  own 
nature,  and  in  respect  of  its  end.  Did  you 
believe  that  joy  and  glory  which  are  set  be- 
fore you  in  this  way,  you  would  not  any  of 
you  defer  a  day  longer,  but  forthwith  you 
would  break  from  all  tliat  holds  you  back, 
and  enter  into  this  way,  and  run  on  cheerfully 
in  it.  The  persuasion  of  those  great  things 
above,  would  enlarge  and  greaten  the  heart, 
and  make  the  greatest  things  here  very  little 
in  your  eyes. 

But  would  you  attain  to  this  enlarged  heart 
for  this  race,  as  you  ought  to  apply  your 
thoughts  to  these  Divine  things,  and  stretch 
them  on  the  jtrornises  made  in  the  world,  so, 
above  all,  take  David's  course,  seek  this  en- 
largement of  neart  from  God's  own  hand. 
For  it  is  here  propounded  and  laid  before  God 
by  way  of  request :  See  what  is  my  desire  ;  1 
would  gladly  serve  thee  better,  and  advance 
more  in  the  way  of  thy  commandments  ;  now 
this  I  can  not  do  till  my  heart  be  more  enlarg- 
ed, and  that  can  not  be  but  by  thy  hand. 
When  thou  shall  enlarge  my  heart.  Present 


OBEDIENCE.  509 

1  this  suit  often  :  it  is  in  his  power  to  do  it  for 
thee.  He  can  stretch  and  expand  thy  straiten- 
ed heart,  can  iioist  and  sjiread  the  sails  within 
thee,  and  then  carry  tliee  on  swiftly  ;  filling 
them,  not  with  the  vain  air  of  man's  applause, 
which  readily  runs  a  soul  upon  rocks  and 
splits  it,  but  with  the  sweet  breathings  and 
soft  gales  of  his  own  Spirit,  which  carry  it 
straight  to  the  desired  haven. 

Findest  thou  sin  cleaving  to  thee  and  clog- 
ging thee  ?  Cry  to  him  :  "  Help,  Lord  !  set  me 
free  from  my  narrow  heart. — I  strive  but  in 
vain  without  thee  ;  still  it  continues  so. — I 
know  little  of  thee  ;  my  affections  are  dead 
and  cold  toward  thee. — Lord,  I  desire  to  love 
thee,  here  is  my  heart :  and  lest  it  fly  out,  lay 
hold  on  it,  and  take  thine  own  way  with  it: 
though  it  should  be  in  a  painful  way,  yet,  draw 
it  forth,  yea,  draw  it  that  it  may  run  after 
thee."  All  is  his  own  working,  and  all  his 
motive  is  his  own  free  grace.  Let  who  will 
fancy  themselves  masters  of  their  own  hearts, 
and  think  to  enlarge  them  by  the  strength  of 
their  own  stretches  of  speculation  :  they  alone, 
they  alone  are  in  the  sure  and  haj)pv  way  of 
attaining  it,  who  humbly  sue  and  wait  for 
this  enlargement  of  heart  from  his  hand  who 
made  it. 


SERMON  XVI. 

CHRISTIAN  TRIUMPH. 

Romans  viii.  33,  34. 

Whoshnll  lay  anythlnc;  to  tho  tharijc  of  God's  elect? 
It  is  (;o(l  tliiit  jiistifictli  :  Who  is  lie  that  condem- 
iietli?  It  is  Clirist  that  died,  yea,  rather,  that  is 
risen  again,  who  is  even  at  tlie  right  hand  of  Gotl, 
who  also  niaUeth  intercession  lor  us. 

Other  men  may  fancy  and  boast  as  they 
please,  but  there  are  none  in  the  world  but 
the  godly  alone,  that  are  furnished  with  suf- 
ficiently strong  supports  and  comforts  agamst 
all  possible  hazards.  And  of  these  doth  the 
apostle  treat  most  freely,  sweetly',  and  plenti- 
fully, in  this  chapter.  He  secures  believers 
in  their  Christ,  touching  these  two  great  evils, 
after  condemnation  and  present  ajjiiction,  that 
the  one  can  not  befall  them,  and  the  other 
can  not  hurt  them. 

For  their  immunity  from  the  former,  they 
have  the  clear  word  of  the  gospel,  and  the 
seal  of  the  Spirit;  and  that  former  privilege 
made  sure,  as  the  far  greater  doth  secure  the 
other  as  the  less. 

They  are  freed  from  condemnation,  and  nol 
only  so,  but  entitled  and  ensured  to  a  kingdom. 
And  what  hurt  then  can  aflhciion  do  ?  Yea. 
it  doth  good  ;  yea,  not  only  it  can  not  rob 
them  of  their  crown,  but  it  carries  them  on 
toward  it,  is  their  highway  to  it:  If  ive  suf- 
fer with  him,  we  shall  also  he  glorified  to- 
gether. Yea,  all  things  to  the  children  of 
God  do  prove  advantageous  :  severally  taken 
in  their  present  sense,  they  mav  seem  evil, 


510 


CHRISTIAN  TEIUMPII. 


[Sek.  xn, 


but  taken  jointly  in  their  after  issue,  their 
workinfT  loiieilier  is  all  lor  good,  in  tiieir 
'simple  naiure,  possibly  they  are  poison,  yei, 
Jonienipereil,  and  prepared,  they  shall  prove 
medicinal.  All  these  t/iim^s  are  asruinsl  me, 
said  old  Jacob,  and  yet  he  lived  to  see  even 
all  these  were /"or  him.  The  children  of  God 
are  indeed  so  happy,  that  the  harshest  thinjis 
in  their  way  chanpe  their  nature,  and  become 
sweet  and  profitable.  'J'his  much  is  effected 
hy  their  prayers,  wiiich  have  a  divine  incanta- 
tion in  them.  They  breathe  I'orth  the  ex- 
]iressions  of  their  love  to  (lod,  by  which  they 
are  characterized,  ver.  28,  them  that  lore  God  ; 
and  that  is  jiut  on  their  beans,  the  iinpre.<swn 
of  /lis  /oce  to  them,  to  which  they  are  here  led 
by  the  aposile,  as  to  the  spring-liead  of  all. 
All  their  comforts  and  privileges  flow  thence, 
yea,  all  their  love  and  ilieir  faith,  appropria- 
ting those  comforts  and  privileges.  Yea,  the 
very  treasury  of  all  together,  Jesus  Christ 
himself,  is  the  free  gift  of  this  free  love.  He, 
as  the  greatest,  ascertains  all  things  besides 
as  unspeakably  less. 

These  two  are  such  mighty  arguments,  that 
no  dilliculiy  nor  grief  can  stand  before  them. 
The  love  of  God,  he  is  with  us;  who  then 
can  be  against  us?  All  the  world  it  may  be, 
but  that  all  is  nothing.  Once  it  was  nothing  : 
it  was  that  God  who  is  our  God,  who  loves  us 
and  is  for  us,  who  made  it  something  ;  and 
if  he  will,  It  may  again  be  nothing.  And  as 
it  is  at  its  best,  it  is  nothing,  being  compared 
with  another  gift  which  be  hath  bestowed 
on  us;  and  having  bestowed  that,  surely,  if 
there  be  anything  in  this  world  can  do  us  any 
good,  we  sliall  not  want  it.  He  that  spared 
not  his  ow?i  Son,  hut  gave  him  to  the  death 
for  us,  will  he  not  with  him  give  us  all  things  ? 

And  to  close  all,  he  makes  these  two  great 
immunities  good  to  us  in  Christ.  He  fixes 
there.  Thire  we  are  freed  from  all  fear  of 
condemnation,  or  of  being  hurl  by  affliction. 
No  accusation  nor  jruiltiness  can  annul  the 
righteousness  ofChri>t,  and  that  is  made  ours. 
No  distress  nor  suffering  can  cut  us  off  from 
the  l(>vc  of  God  :  and  if  ii  can  not  do  that, 
we  need  not  fear  it :  all  other  hazards  are  no 
hazard,  that  beinu  sure. 

And  in  confidence  of  this,  the  apostle  gives 
the  defiance,  casts  a  challenge  to  angels,  to 
men,  to  all  the  world,  upon  these  two  points, 
Who  shall  accuse  ? — Who  shall  separate  1 — 
Accuse  to  God,  or  separate  from  him?  What- 
fcoever  times  may  come,  the  hardest  that  any 
can  apprehend  or  foretell,  if  these  two  be  not 
sufficient  furniture  against  them,  I  know  not 
what  is. 

Men  are  commonly  busied  about  other 
events  conceriiinLT  them  and  tlicirs,  what  shall 
become  of  this  or  the  other,  and  what  if  this 
or  "hat  fall  out.  But  the  conscience  once 
raised  to  ibis  inquiry,  the  soul  being  awake 
to  discern  the  hazard  of  eternal  death,  all 
other  fears  and  questions  are  drowned  and 
lost  in  this  great  question.  Am  I  condemned 
or  not  ?    Is  ray  sin  pardoned  or  not  ? 


And  then,  a  satisfyina  answer  received  con 
ceriiing  this,  all  is  quiet:  the  soul  rejioses 
sweetly  on  (^od,  and  puts  all  its  other  con- 
cernments into  his  hands.  Let  him  make  me 
poor  and  despised,  let  him  smite  and  chastise 
me,  be  hath  foririvenmy  sin  ;  all  is  well.  That 
burden  taken  off,  the  soul  can  go  light,  yea, 
can  leap  and  dance  under  all  other  burdens. 
Oh,  how  it  feels  itself  nimble  as  a  man  eased 
of  a  load  that  he  was  even  fainting  under  ! 
Oh  !  blessed  the  man  whose  sin  is  taken  off, 
lifted  from  his  shoulders  (that  is  the  word, 
r'salm  xxxii.  1),  laid  over  upon  Christ,  who 
could  hear  the  whole  load,  and  tahr  it  avay, 
take  it  out  of  sight,  which  we  could  never 
have  done  :  no,  they  would  have  sunk  us  for 
ever.  That  one  word,  '"o  i.  John  i.  29,  signi- 
fies both,  and  answers  to  the  two,  Tsa.  liii.  4, 
He  hath  home  our  grief  and  carried  our 
sorrows;  lifted  them  away.  0  how  sweet  a 
burden,  instead  of  this,  is  that  cniraffement 
of  obedience  and  Im-e  to  him  as  our  Redeemer, 
and  which  is  all  he  lays  on  us  !  If  we  follow 
him,  and  bear  bis  cross,  he  is  our  stren£rth, 
and  bears  both  it  and  us.  So  then,  this  is  the 
great  point,  the  heart's  ease,  to  be  delivered 
'  from  the  ccndemnincf  weight  of  sin. 
j  And  certainly,  while  men  do  not  think 
thus  their  hearts  have  very  slight  impressions 
of  the  truth  of  these  things.  T  fear  the  most 
of  us  scarcely  believe  this  condemnation  to 
come,  at  least,  very  sballowlv,  and  so  they 
can  not  much  consider  the  deliverance  froin 
it  provided  for  us  in  Jesus  Christ.  I  can  not 
see  how  it  is  possible  for  a  heart  persuadt-d  » 
of  these  things  to  be  very  careful  about  any- 
thing beside.  You  who"  eat  and  drink,  and 
labor  and  trade,  and  bestow  all  your  time  ei- 
ther in  the  pains  or  the  pleasures  of  this 
earth,  what  think  you  of  eternity?  Is  it  a 
light  thing  for  you  to  perish  for  ever?  After 
a  few  days  vainly  spent,  to  fall  under  the 
wrath  of  God  for  ever?  Ob,  thai  you  would 
:  be  persuaded  to  think  on  these  things  ! 
j  And  you  who  have  an  interest  in  this  free 
and  blessed  estate,  why  are  your  spirits  so 
j  cold,  so  infrequent  in  the  thoughts  of  il  ? 
Why  are  you  not  rejoicing  in  the  Lord,  glad- 
dening yourselves  in  secret  when  you  re- 
member this?— Go  the  world  as  it  will,  my 
sin  is  forgiven  me.  Mistake  me,  accuse  me 
whoso  will,  my  God  hath  acquitted  me  in  his 
Christ,  and  he  loves  me,  and  lives  to  inter- 
cede for  me. 

Methinks  I  hear  some  sny,  Ay,  ihev  who 
could  sav  that,  might  be  merry  indeed  ;  btit 
alas  !  I  have  no  such  assurance.    Who  can 
lay  anythin<r  to  the  charge  of  God\<i  elect? 
That  is  true,  but  here  is  the  great  point  of  so 
hard  a  resolution.  Am  I  one  of  these  ? 
j     That  the  apostle  doth  thus  specilV  the  own- 
j  ers  of  this  consolation,  by  this  high  and  hid- 
den character  of  their  election,  is  not  to  ren- 
der it  doubtful  and  dark  :  for  his  main  aim, 
on  the  contrary,  is,  both  to  extend  it  as  far  ai 
j  it  can  go,  and  to  make  it  as  clear  as  may  be 
to  all  that  have  interest  in  it :  but  he  des- 


Rom.  viii.  33,  34.] 


CHRISTIAN  TRIUMPH. 


511 


ignates  them  by  the  primitive  act  of  love  I 
fixing  ou  them,  so  as  it  is  now  manifested  tt  ] 
ihem  in  the  subsequent  effects  which  flow 
from  their  election:  called,  and  sanctified, 
and  conformed  to  Jesus  Christ,  both  by  his 
Spirit  witli  tliem,  and  by  the  sufferings  that ' 
without  arir^e  against  them  in  the  world.  '< 
They  are  such  as,  being  the  sons  of  Gud,  are 
led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  walk  not  after 
the  flesh  hut  after  the  Spirit. 

And  these  things,  indeed,  considered  as 
their  characters,  the  stamp  of  God  on  them, 
ihe  impressions  of  their  election  to  life,  do  I 
check  tiie  vam  confidence  of  all  carnal,  un- 
godly professors  of  the  name  of  Christ,  and 
tell  them  tbat  their  pretended  title  to  him  is 
a  mere  delusion.  Certainly,  whosoever  lives 
in  tiie  love  of  sin,  and  takes  the  flesh  for  his 
guide,  that  accursed,  blind  guide  is  leading 
him  into  the  pit.  What  gross  folly  and  im- ' 
pudence  is  it  for  any  man,  walking  in  the 
lu-^t  of  his  own  heart,  to  fancy  and  aver  him- 
self to  be  a  partner  of  that  redemption,  j 
whereof  so  great  a  part  is,  to  deliver  us  from 
ihe  power  of  our  iniquities,  to  renew  our 
hearts,  and  reunite  them  to  God,  and  pos- 
sess them  with  his  love! 

The  great  evidence  of  thy  election  is,  love. 
Thy  love  to  him,  gives  certain  testimony  of 
his  preceding,  eternal  love  to  thee:  so  are 
they  here  designated,  they  that  love  God. 
Thy  choosing  him,  is  the  effect  and  evidence 
of  his  choosing  thee.  Now,  this  is  not  labo- 
rious, nor  needs  to  be  dispute'd.  Amid  all  thy 
frailties,  feel  the  pulse  of  thine  affection, 
which  way  it  beats,  and  ask  thy  heart  wheth- 
er tiiou  love  hira  or  not ;  in  this  thou  hast 
the  character  ol'  thy  eieciion. 

Know  you  noi,  iliat  the  redeemed  of  Christ 
and  he  are  one  ?    They  live  one  lite,  Christ 
lives  in  them,  and  ;/  any  man  hath  not  the\ 
Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his,  as  the 
apostle  declares  in  this  chapter.    So.  then,  [ 
this  we  are  i)lainly  to  tell  you,  and  consider  i 
it,  you  that  will  not  lei  go  your  sins  and  lay 
hold  ou  Christ,  iiave  as  yet  no  share  m  him.  , 

But  on  the  other  side,  the  truth  is,  that  i 
when  souls  are  once  set  upon  this  search,  ! 
they  commi  nly  wind  the  notion  too  high,  j 
and  subtilize  too  much  in  the  dispute,  and  so 
entangle  and  perplex  themselves,  and  drive 
themselves  farther  off  from  that  comfort 
that  they  are  seeking  after:  such  measures 
and  marks  of  ^race,  they  set  to  themselves 
for  their  rule  and  standard;  and  unless  thev 
find  those  witliout  all  controversy  in  them- 
selves, they  will  not  believe  that  they  have 
an  interest  in  Christ  and  this  blessed  and 
safe  estate  in  him. 

To  such  I  would  only  say.  Are  you  in  a 
willing  league  with  any  known  sin?  Yea, 
would  you  Avillingly,  if  you  might  be  saved  I 
in  that  way,  give  up  yourself  to  voluptuous- : 
ness,  and  uiig(j(iliness.  and  not  at  all  desire  | 
tofollow  Jesus  Christ  in  the  way  of  holiness? 
Then  truly,  I  have  not  anything  as  yet  to  say 
•or  your  comfort ;  only  there  is  a  salvation 


provided,  and  the  door  is  y<?t  open,  and  youi 
heart  may  be  changed.  But,  on  the  other 
side,  are  the  desires  of  thy  soul  after  Christ, 
a  whole  Christ,  to  be  righteousness,  and 
withal  sanclification  to  thee  ?  Wouldst  thou 
willingly  give  up  thyself  to  be  ruled  by  him, 
and  have  him  for  thy  king  ?  Hadst  thou 
rather  choose  to  suffer  the  greatest  affliction 
for  his  sake,  to  honor  him,  than  to  commit 
the  least  sin  to  displease  him  ?  Doth  thy 
heart  go  out  after  him,  when  thou  hearest 
him  spoken  of?  Dost  thou  account  him  thy 
treasure,  so  that  all  the  world  sounds  but  as 
an  empty  shell  to  thee,  when  he  is  named? 
Savs  thy  soul  within  thee.  Oh,  that  he  were 
mine  !  and.  Oh,  thai  I  were  his,  that  I  could 
please  him,  and  live  to  him  !  Then,  do  not 
toss  thy  spirit,  and  jangle  and  spin  out  thy 
thoughts  in  fruitless,  endless  doublings,  but 
close  with  this  as  thy  portion,  and  be  of  good 
comfort ;  thy  sins  are,  or  will  be  forgiven 
thee. 

I  add  further  :  if  thou  sayest  still,  that  thou 
findest  none  of  all  this,  yet,  I  say,  there  is 
warrant  for  thee  to  believe  and  lay  hold  on 
this  righteousness  here  held  forth,  to  the  end 
that  thou  mayest  then  find  those  things  in 
thee,  and  find  comfort  in  them.  Thou  art 
convinced  of  ungodliness  ;  tlien  believe  on 
him  who  justifies  the  ungodly.  Thou  art 
condemned  ;  yet  Christ  is  dead  and  risen. 
Flee  to  him  as  such,  as  the  Lamb  slain,  he 
vho  was  dead,  and  is  alive;  and  then  say, 
117(0  is  he  that  condernneth?  It  is  Christ 
that  died,  or  rather,  that  is  risen.  Who  shall 
accuse?  It  is  true,  they  make  clamor  and 
make  a  noise,  both  Satan  and  thy  conscience, 
but  how  can  they  fasten  any  accusation  on 
thee?  If  they  dare  accuse,  yet  they  can  not 
condemn,  when  the  Judge  hath  acquitted 
thee,  and  declared  thee  free,  who  is  greater 
than  all,  and  hath  the  absolute  power  of  the 
sentence.  All  charges  and  libels  come  too 
late,  after  he  hath  once  i)ronounced  a  soul 
righteous.  And  who  shall  condemn?  Jt  is 
Christ  that  died.  If  the  sentence  of  the  law 
be  brought  forth,  yet  here  is  the  answer,  it 
ought  not  to  be  twice  satisfied  ;  now,  once  it 
is  satisfied  in  Christ,  he  hath  died,  and  that 
stands  for  the  believer.  Whosoever  flees  to 
him,  and  lays  hold  on  him  for  life,  /(e  can  not 
die  airain,  nor  canst  thou  die,  for  whom  he 
died  once.  Or  rather  is  risen;  that  raises 
the  assurance  hi<her,  and  sets  it  firmer,  tor 
this  evidences  that  in  his  death  all  was  paia. 
When  he,  being  the  surely,  and  seized  on  tor 
the  debt,  and  once  death's  prisoner,  yet,  waa 
set  free,  this  ch  ars  the  matter  that  there  la 
no  more  to  be  [laid.  And  yet  further,  in  sign 
that  all  is  d(jne,  he  is  raised  to  th.e  height  of 
hynor  above  all  princi[ialities  and  [towers,  is 
set  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Father,  and  there 
he  sits  and  lives  to  make  intercession,  to  sue 
out  the  fulfilling  of  all  for  believers,  the 
bringing  of  them  home,  lives  to  see  all  made 
good  that  he  died  and  covenanted  for.  So, 
now  that  his  righteousness  is  thine  who  be- 


512 


CHRISTIAN  TRIUMPH. 


[Ser.  XVTl. 


lievest,any  challenge  must  meet  with  Christ 
first,  and  if  it  seize  not  on  liim,  it  can  not 
light  on  thee,  for  thou  art  in  him,  married  to 
him.  And  the  same  triumjih  that  he  speaks, 
Isa.  1.  S,  wlience  these  words  are  borrowed, 
is  made  thine,  and  ihou  mayest  now  sjjeak  il 
in  hini.  T  know  not  what  can  cast  him  down, 
who  hatli  ti)is  word  lo  rest  upon,  and  to  com- 
fort lumself  in. 


SERMON  XVII. 

CHRISTIAN  TllIUMFH. 

RojiANs  viii.  35,  &c. 

Who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ? 
Shall  tribulation,  or  distress,  or  persecution,  or 
famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril,  or  sword?  &c. 

Is  this  he  whoso  lately  cried  out,  O  wretch- 
ed man  tli'.il  I  am  !  ic/io  shall  deliver  me  ? 
who  now  triumphs,  0  happy  man  !  Who  shall 
separate  us  from  the  lure  nf  Christ  ? 

Yes,  it  is  the  same.  Pained,  then,  with  the 
thoughts  of  that  miserable  conjunction  with 
a  body  of  death,  and  so  crying  out,  who  will 
deliver,  wlio  will  separate  me  from  that  ? 
now,  now,  he  hath  found  a  Deliverer  to  do 
that  for  him,  to  whom  he  is  for  ever  united, 
and  he  s;lories  now  in  his  inseparable  union 
and  unalterable  love,  which  none  can  divide 
him  from.  Yea,  it  is  through  him,  that  pres- 
entlv  afier  that  word  of  complaint  he  praises 
God  :  and  now,  in  him  he  triumphs.  So  vast 
a  difference  is  there  between  a  Christian  ta- 
ken in  himself,  and  in  Christ!  When  he 
views  himself  in  himself,  then  he  is  nothing 
but  a  poor,  miserable,  polluted,  perishing 
wretch  ;  but  then  he  looks  again,  and  sees 
himself  in  Christ,  and  there  he  is  rich,  and 
safe,  and  happy  ;  he  triumphs,  and  he  glo- 
ries in  it,  above  all  the  painted  prosperities, 
and  aiiainst  all  the  horrid  adversities  of  the 
world  ;  he  lives  in  his  Christ,  content  and 
happv,  and  laughs  at  all  enemies. 

And  he  extends  his  triumph  ;  he  makes  a 
common  good  of  it  to  all  believers,  speaks  it 
in  their  name.  Who  shall  separate  vs  ?  and 
would  have  them  partake  of  the  same  confi- 
dence, and  speak  in  the  same  style  with  him. 
It  is  vain  that  men  fancy  these  to  be  ex])res- 
sions  of  revelations,  or  some  singularly-priv- 
ilesed  assurances  ;  then,  they  would  not  suit 
their  end,  which  is  clearly,  and  undoubtedly, 
the  encouragement  of  all  the  children  of 
God,  upon  grounds  that  are  peculiar  to  theiu 
from  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  but  common 
to  'hem  all,  in  all  ages,  and  all  varieties  of 
condition. 

It  is  true,  all  of  them  have  not  alike  clear 
and  firm  apprehensions  of  their  happy  and 
sure  estate,  and  scarcely  any  of  them  are 
alike  at  all  times  ;  yet,  they  have  all  and  al- 
ways the  same  right  to  this  estate,  and  to 
the  comfort  of  it,  and  when  they  stand  in  a 


right  light  to  view  it,  they  do  see  it  so,  and 
rejoice  in  it. 

There  be  indeed  some  kinds  of  assurance 
that  are  more  rare  and  extraordinary,  some 
immediate  glances  or  coruscations  of  the 
love  of  God  upon  the  soul  of  a  believer,  a 
smile  of  his  counteiuuice  ;  and  this  doth  ex- 
ceedingly refresh,  yea,  ravish  the  soul,  and 
enables  it  mightily  for  duties  and  sifferings. 
These  he  dispenses  arbitrarily  and  freely, 
where  and  when  he  will.  Some  weaker 
Christians  sometimes  have  them,  while 
stronger  are  stransjers  to  them,  the  Lord 
training  them  to  live  more  contentedly  by 
faith  till  the  day  of  vision  come. 

And  that  is  the  other,  the  less  ecstatical, 
but  the  more  constant  and  fixing  kind  of  as- 
surance, the  proper  assurance  of  faith:  the 
soul,  by  believing,  cleaves  unio  God  in  Christ 
as  he  offers  himself  in  (he  gospel,  and  thence 
is  possessed  with  a  sweet  and  calm  persua- 
sion of  his  love  ;  that  being  the  proper  work, 
to  appropriate  him,  to  make  Christ,  and  in 
him  eternal  life,  ours.  So  that  it  is  the  prop- 
er result  and  fruit  ol'that  its  aciing,  especial- 
ly when  it  acts  anything  strongly,  to  quiet 
the  soul  in  him.  Then,  bei?is  jusltjied  by 
faith,  we  have  peace  with  God ,  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  from  that  peace,  joy, 
yea,  even  glorying  in  tribulation,  as  there 
follows.  And  these  springing,  not  from  an 
extraordinary  sense  or  view,  but  from  the 
very  innate  virtue  of  faith  working  kindly 
and  accordmg-to  its  own  nature. 

Therei'ore  many  Christians  do  prejudice 
their  own  comfort  and  darken  their  spirits, 
by  not  giving  freedom  to  faith  to  act  accord- 
ing to  its  nature  and  proper  principles.  They 
will  not  believe  till  they  find  some  evidence, 
or  assurance,  which  is  quite  to  invert  the  or- 
der of  the  thing,  and  to  look  for  fruit  witho'it 
setting  a  root  for  it  to  grow  from. 

AYould  you  take  Christ  upon  the  absolute 
word  of  promise,  tendering  him  to  you,  and 
rest  on  him  so,  this  would  engraft  you  into  life 
itself,  for  that  he  is,  and  so  those  fruits  of  th  e 
Holy  Ghost  would  bud  and  flourish  in  your 
hearts.  From  that  very  believing  on  hirn, 
would  arise  this  persuasion,  yea,  even  to  a 
gloriation,  and  an  humble  boasting  in  his 
love.  117(0  shall  accuse — Who  shall  ton- 
demn — 11 7/ o  sliall  separate  ? 

The  undivided  companion  and  undoul  ted 
helper  and  preserver  of  this  confidenc;  of 
faith,  is  an  active  love  to  Christ,  leading  o  a 
constant  study  of  holiness  and  strife  against 
sin,  which  is  the  grand  enemy  of  faith,  which 
^  obstructs  the  very  vital  spirits  of  faith,  which 
I  makes  it  sickly  and  heavy  in  its  actings,  and 
causes  he  palsy  in  the  hand  of  failh,  so  that 
j  it  can  not  lay  so  fast  hold.  Therefore,  this  you 
should  be  careful  of;  yea,  know  that  of  ne- 
cessity it  attends  faith,  and  as  faith  grows, 
j  holiness  will  grow,  and  holiness  growing  will 
mutually  strengthen  and  establish  faith.  The 
'  comforts  of  the  Holy  Ghost  are  holy,  purify- 
!  ing  comforts,  and  the  more  the  soul  is  purifi- 


Rom.  viii.  35.] 


CHRISTIAN  TRIUMPH. 


513 


ed  and  made  holy,  the  more  is  it  cleared  ana 
enlarged  to  receive  much  of  these  comforts- 
Blessed  are  the  pure  m  heart,  for  they  shal 
see  God.  Unht/liness  is  as  damps  and  filthy 
mists  in  the  soul  :  it  darkens  all. 

Hence  it  is  evident  in  what  way  Christians 
may  and  ought  to  aspire  to  this  assurance. 
It  is  their  portion,  and  in  this  way  they  are 
to  aspire  to  it,  and  shall  find  it ;  if  not  imme- 
diately, yet,  let  them  wait  and  go  on  in  this 
way,  they  shall  not  miscarry. 

Again,  it  appears  that  this  assurance  is  no 
enemy  to  holy  diligence,  nor  a  friend  carnal 
security  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  the  only  thing 
that  doth  eminently  ennoble  and  embolden 
the  soul  for  all  adventures  and  services.  Base 
fears  and  doubtmgs,  wherein  some  place 
much  of  religion  (and  many  weak  Christians 
seem  to  be  in  that  mistake,  to  think  it  a  kind 
of  holy,  spiritual  temper  to  be  questioning  and 
doubting),  I  say  these  base  fears  can  never 
produce  any  thing  truly  generous,  no  height 
of  obedience;  they  do  nothing  but  entangle 
and  disable  the  soul  for  every  good  w:)rk. 
Perfect  love  casts  out  this  fear,  and  works  a 
sweet  unperplexing  fear,  a  holy  wariness  not 
to  offend,  which  fears  nothing  else.  And 
this  confidence  of  love  is  the  great  secret  of 
comfort,  and  of  ability  to  do  God  service. 
Nothing  makes  so  strong  and  healthy  a  con- 
stitution of  soul,  as  pure  love  ;  it  dares  sub- 
rait  to  fxod,  and  resign  itself  to  him  ;  it  dares 
venture  itself  in  his  hand,  and  trust  his  word, 
and  seeks  no  more  than  how  to  please  him. 
A  heart  thus  composed,  goes  readily  and 
cheerfully  unto  all  service,  to  do,  to  suffer,  to 
live,  to  die,  at  his  pleasure  ;  and  (irmly  stands 
to  vhis,  that  nnlhinir  can  s'  jtarate  it  from  iliat 
which  is  sufficient  f  r  ii,  which  is  all  its  bap- 
pmess,  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus.  Ver. 
39.  That  is,  indeed,  his  love  to  us,  but  it  is 
so  as  it  includes  inseparably  the  inseparable- 
ness  of  our  love  to  him.  '  For  observe  the 
things  specified  as  most  likely,  if  anvthing,  to 
separate  us  ;  Shall  trilmla/ion  or  distress,  &c. 
Now  these  especially,  being  endured  for  his 
sake,  c<in  not  immediately  have  any  likely 
visase  of  altering  his  love  to  us,  but  rather 
confirm  us  in  it;  but  these  shall  not  separate 
us,  by  altering  our  love  to  him,  by  driving  us 
from  him,  and  carrying  us  into  any  way  of  de- 
fection, or  denial  o{  his  name,  and  so  cut  us 
off  from  our  union  wiih  him,  and  interest  in 
his  love  ;  and  that  is  the  way  wherein  the 
weak  Christian  will  most  apprehend  the  haz- 
ard of  separation.  Now,  the  apostle  speaks 
his  own  sense,  and  would  raise  in  his  breth- 
ren the  same  confidence,  as  to  that  danger. 
There  is  no  fear  ;  not  one  of  these  things 
shall  be  able  to  carry  us  away.  These 
mighty  waves  shall  not  unsettle  our  faith, 
nor  quench  the  flame  of  our  love.  We  shall 
be  victors,  and  more  than  victors,  in  all.  But 
kow  ?  Ver.  .37  :  ThrouE;h  him  thai  hath  lovrd 
us.  Thus  his  love  makes  sure  ours.  He 
hath  8uch  hold  of  our  hearts  as  he  will  not 
let  go,  nor  suffer  us  to  let  go  our  hold  :  all  is  | 
65 


fast  by  his  strength.  He  will  not  lose  us 
nor  shall  any  be  able  to  pluck  us  out  of  his 
hand. 

Jesus  Christ  is  the  medium  of  this  love,  the 
middle  link  that  keeps  all  safe  together  be- 
tween God  and  man,  being  so  closely  united 
in  his  personal  nature,  and  the  persons  of 
men  in  and  by  him,  to  the  Father.  So  here, 
it  is  first  called  the  love  of  Christ,  ver.  35, 
and  then,  in  the  close.  The  love  of  God  in 
Christ  ;  the  soul  being  firs^  carried  to  him  as 
nearest,  but  so  carried  by  him  into  that  prim- 
itive love  of  God  that  flows  in  Christ,  and 
that  gave  even  Christ  to  us  as  before.  And 
this  is  the  bottoin-truth,  the  firm  ground  of 
the  saints'  perseverance,  which  men  not  ta- 
king aright,  must  needs  question  the  matter. 
Yea  we  may  put  it  out  of  question  upon  their 
suppositions,  for  if  our  own  purposes  and 
strength  were  all  we  had  to  rely  on,  alas  I 
how  soon  were  we  shaken  ! 

So  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  is  not  only 
here  mentioned  as  the  point  of  happiness, 
from  which  we  can  not  be  removed,  but  as 
the  principle  of  firmness  that  makes  itself 
sure  of  us,  and  us  of  it,  and  will  not  part 
with  us. 

Now,  it  is  no  pride  in  a  Christian,  but  the 
truest  humility,  to  triumph  and  glory  in  this. 
This  is  it  that  makes  all  sure  :  this  is  the 
great  comfort  and  the  victory  of  the  saints. 
He  that  loved  us  and  bought  us  so  dear,  will 
not  lightly  slip  from  us  ;  yea,  upon  no  terms 
will  he  let  us  ^o,  unless  some  stronger  than 
he  is,  meet  with  him,  and  by  force  bereave 
him  of  us  :  which  we  know  is  impossible. 
He  and  his  Father,  who  are  one  in  them^ 
selves,  and  in  their  strength,  and  luic  in  this 
love,  are  greater  and  stronger  than  all ;  ana 
he  that  once  overcame  for  us,  always  over- 
comes in  us. 

Thus  he  lets  temptation  and  tribulation  as- 
sault us,  and  thus  neither  disjjrovcs  his  love, 
nor  endangers  his  right  to  us  ;  yea,  it  doth 
but  give  proof  and  evidence  of  the  invincible 
firmness  of  both.  He  suffers  others  to  lie  soft, 
and  sit  warm,  and  pamper  their  flesh  at  lei- 
sure ;  but  he  hath  nobler  business  for  his 
champions,  his  worthies,  and  most  of  all  for 
the  stoutest  of  them:  he  calls  them  forth  to 
honorable  services,  to  the  hardest  encounters  ; 
he  sets  them  on,  one  to  fight  with  sickness, 
another  with  poverty,  another  with  reproach- 
es and  persecutions,  with  prisons  and  irons, 
and  willi  death  itself.  And  all  this  while, 
loves  he  them  less  or  they  him?  Oh,  no. 
He  looks  on  and  rejoices  to  see  them  do  val- 
iantly;  it  is  the  joy  of  his  heart,  no  sight  on 
earth  so  sweet  to  him  ;  and  it  is  all  the  while 
by  his  subduing,  and  in  his  strength,  that 
they  hold  out  in  the  conflict,  and  obtain  the 
conquest. 

And  thus  they  are  the  more  endeared  to 
him  by  these  services  and  these  adventures  of 
love  for  him,  and  he  9(111  likewise  is  the 
more  endeared  to  them.  Certainly,  the  more 
any  one  suffers  for  Christ,  the  more  he  loves 


514 


CHRISTIAN  TRIUMPH. 


[Ser.  XVll. 


Christ :  as  love  doth  grow  and  ctigniic  itself 
'n  all  it  does  and  suffers,  and  burns  hotter  hy 
what  it  encounters  and  overeoines,  as  liy  fuel 
added  to  it.  As  to  Jesus  Christ,  by  what  he 
sull'ered  for  us  we  are  the  dearer  to  him,  so 
he  is  to  us  by  all  we  suffer  for  his  sake. 

Love  grows  niosi  by  opposition  from  others 
whosoever,  when  it  is  sure  of  acceptance  and 
the  correspondence  of  mutual  love  in  the  par- 
ty loved.  Above  all,  this  heavenly,  divine 
love  is  stronir  os  death,  a  vehement  flame,  a 
flame  of  God,  indeed,  as  the  word  is,  Cant, 
viii.  6,  and  main/ waters  can  not  mench  it; 
not  all  these  that  here  follow  one  another, 
trilnilation,  distress,  jiersecut ion,  famine,  na- 
kedness, peril,  sirord.  Yea,  in  the  midst  of 
these,  I  say,  it  grows  :  the  soul  cleaves  closer 
to  Christ,  the  more  attempts  are  made  to  re- 
move it  from  him,  thou<ili  ki//rd  all  thP day 
oufr.  This  passage  from  the  Psalms  is  most 
fit,  both  to  testify  that  persecution  is  not  un- 
usually the  lot  of  the  saints,  and  to  give  in- 
stance of  their  lirm  adherence  to  God  in  all 
troubles,  as  the  church  there  professeth.  And 
if  the  saints  in  that  dispensation  could  reckon 
in  such  a  manner,  much  more  ought  Chris- 
tians, upon  a  clearer  discovery  of  the  cove- 
nant of  grace  and  their  union  with  God  in 
Christ.  The  saints  are  as  in  a  common  butch- 
ery in  the  world  ;  yea,  not  only  as  sueef  for, 
the  slaughter,  but  sometimes  as  sheep  for  the 
altar,  men  thinking  it  a  sacrifice.  They  that 
kill  you,  says  our  Savior,  shall  think  they  do 
God  service.  Yet  even  this  pulls  not  from 
him.  They  part  with  life?  ay,  why  not? 
This  life  is  but  a  death,  and  he  is  our  life  for 
whom  we  lose  it. 

All  these  things  do  but  increase  the  victo- 
ries and  Iriumiihs  of  love,  and  make  it  more 
glorious:  as  they  tell  of  her  multiplying  la- 
bors to  that  chanipion,  they  are  not  only  con- 
querors, but  more  than  contjuerors,  by  multi- 
plied victories,  and  they  eain  in  them  all  both 
more  honor  and  more  slrencth  ;  they  are  the 
filter  for  new  adventures,  and  so  more  than 
simple  conquerors.  We  overcome,  and  are 
sure  not  to  lose  former  conquests,  but  to  add 
more,  and  conquer  on  to  the  end  ;  which  oth- 
er conquerors  are  not  sure  of.  Oftentimes 
they  outlive  their  own  successes  and  renown, 
and  lose  on  a  sudden  what  they  have  been 
gaining  a  wIkjIc  lifetime.  Not  so  here  ;  we 
are  secured  in  the  author  of  our  victories.  It 
\f>  through  him  that  hath  loved  us;  and  he 
can  not  grow  less,  yea,  he  shall  still  grow 
greater,  till  all  his  enemies  be  made  his  foot- 
stool. 

Having  given  the  challenge  and  finding 
none  to  answer,  and  ihat  all,  the  most  ai)pa- 
rent,are  in  a  most  rhetorical  accutnulation  si- 
lenced, tribulation,  distress,  persecution,  fam- 
ir.e,  nakedness,  peril,  sword,  &c.,  he  goes  on 
confidently  in  the  triutni)ii,  and  avers  his  as- 
surance of  full  and  final  victory  against  ail 
imaginable  power  of  all  the  creatures  :  neith- 
er death  nor  life,  not  the  fear  of  the  most  ter- 
rible death,  nor  the  hope  or  love  of  the  most 


desirable  life.  And  in  the  height  of  t.na 
courage  and  confidence,  he  supposes  imf)0ssi- 
blc  enemies,  Nor  angels,  nor  principalities, 
nor  powers  ;■ — unless  you  take  it  of  the  angels 
of  darkness  only  :  but  if  it  could  be  possible 
that  the  others  should  offer  at  such  a  thing, 
they  would  be  too  weak  for  it.  No  sense  of 
any  present  things,  nor  apprehensions  of 
things  to  come  ;  not  anything  within  the 
vast  circle  of  the  world  above  or  below;  nor 
any  creature,  can  do  it.  Plere  sin  is  not  spe- 
cified, because  he  is  speakini;  of  outward  op- 
positions and  difficulties  expressly,  and  be- 
cause that  is  removed  by  the  former  chal- 
lenge. Who  s/miII  accuse  ?  that  asserting  a  free 
and  final  acquittance  of  all  sin,  a  pardon  of 
the  curse,  which  yet  will  never  encourage 
any  of  those  to  sin  who  live  in  ihe  assurance 
of  this  love.  Oh,  no  :  and  these  general 
words  do  include  it  too.  Nothing  prcserit,  nor 
to  come,  &rc.  So  it  is  carried  clear,  and  is  the 
satisfying  comfort  of  all  whom  Jesus  Christ 
hath  drawn  after  him,  and  united  in  his 
love. 

It  is  enough  ;  whatsoever  they  may  be  sep- 
arated from,  the  things  or  persons  dearest  in 
this  world,  it  is  no  matter  :  the  jewel  is  safe. 
None  can  take  my  Ciirist  from  me,  and  I  am 
safe  in  him,  as  his  purchase.  None  can  take 
me  from  him,  and  being  still  in  his  love,  and 
through  him  in  the  Father's  Inve,  that  is  suf- 
ficient. What  can  I  fear  ?  What  can  I  want? 
All  other  hazards  signify  nothing.  How  lit- 
tle value  are  they  of!  And  for  how  little  a 
while  am  I  in  danger  of  them  !  Methinks, 
all  should  look  on  a  believer  with  an  emulous 
eye,  and  wish  his  esiaie  more  than  a  king's. 

Alas,  poor  creatures  !  rich  men,  great  men, 
princes  and  kings,  wli«t  vain  things  are  they 
that  you  embrace  and  cleave  to  !  Whatsoev- 
er they  be,  soon  must  you  part.  Can  you  say 
of  any  of  them.  Who  shall  separate  us  ? 
Storms  may  arise  and  scatter  ships  that  sail 
stnoolhly  together  in  fair  weather.  Thou 
mayest  be  removed,  by  public  commotions 
and  calamities,  from  thy  sweet  dwellings,  and 
societies,  and  estates.  You  may  even  live  to 
see  and  seek  your  parting.  At  last  you  must 
part,  for  you  must  die.  Then,  farewell  parks 
and  palaces,  gardens  and  honors,  and  even 
crowns  themselves.  Then,  dearest  friends, 
children  and  wife  must  be  parted  with.  Lin- 
quenda  tellus,  et  domus  et  placens  uxor. 
And  what  hast  thou  lefr,  poor  soul,  who  hast 
noi  Christ,  but  that  which  thou  wouldst  glad- 
ly part  with  and  canst  not,  the  condemning 
guilt  of  all  thy  sins  ? 

But  the  soul  that  is  in  Christ,  when  other 
things  are  pulled  away,  feels  little  or  nothing  : 
he  cleaves  to  Christ,  and  these  separations 
pain  him  not.  Yea,  when  that  sreat  separa- 
tist death,  comes,  that  breaks  all  other  unions, 
even  that  of  the  soul  and  body,  yet,  so  far  is 
it  from  separating  the  believer's  soul  from  its 
beloved  Lord  Jesus,  that,  on  the  contrary,  it 
carries  it  into  the  nearest  union  with  hint, 
and  the  fullest  enjoyment  of  him  for  ever. 


Isaiah  lix.  1,  2.] 


THE  GOODNESS  OF  GOD 


515 


SERMON  XVIII. 

GOODNESS  OF  30D,  AND  WICKEDNESS  OF  MAN. 

Isaiah  lix.  1,  2. 

Behold,  the  Lorl's  hand  is  not  shortened,  that  it  can 
not  save,  neither  his  ear  heavy,  that  it  can  not  hear. 

But  your  iniquiries  have  separated  between  you  and 
and  your  God,  and  your  sins  have  hid  his  face  from 
you,  that  he  wUl  no  hear. 

Our  vain  niinds  are  naturally  fruitful  in 
nothing  more  than  in  mistakes  of  God.  For 
the  most  part  we  think  not  on  him,  and  when 
we  do  it,  we  fancy  him  according  to  our  own 
affections,  which  are  wholly  perverse  and 
crooked. 

Men  commonly  judge  it  a  vain  thing  to 
spend  much  pains  and  time  in  worshipping 
hitn  ;  and  if  they  are  convinced  of  this,  and 
tied  to  it  by  the  professions  of  his  name,  then 
they  think  all  religion  is  a  shell  of  external 
diligences  and  observances,  and  count  it 
strange  if  this  be  not  accepted.  In  the  for- 
mer chapter  we  find  this,  in  the  prophet's 
contest  with  the  people  about  their  fasting, 
and  their  opinion  of  it  ;  he  cuts  up  their  sac- 
rifices, and  lets  them  see  what  was  within  ; 
the  skin  was  sound  and  looked  well,  but 
being  opened,  the  erMrails  were  found  rotten. 
And  here  he  enters  into  another  contest, 
against  the  latent  atheism  of  their  hearts, 
who  after  their  manner  of  seeking  God,  not 
finding  him,  and  not  being  delivered,  are 
r  '  idy  to  think  that  he  either  can  not,  or 
Wi!i  not  help,  and  rather  rest  on  that  gross 
mis:ake,  than  inquire  into  themselves  for  the 
true  c;iuse  of  their  continuing  calamities  :  they 
incline  railier  to  think  it  is  some  indisposition 
in  God  10  iielp,  than  what  it  truly  is,  a  want 
of  reformation  in  iliemselves  that  hinders  it. 
It  is  not  likely  ttiai  tliey  would  say  thus,  or 
speak  it  out  in  j)lain  terms;  no,  nor  possibly 
speak  it  formally  and  distinctly  within,  not 
so  much  as  in  tbeir  thoughts  :  and  yet,  they 
might  have  a  confu.«ed,  dark  conceit  of  this. 
And  much  of  the  atheism  of  man's  heart  is  of 
this  fashion  :  not  formed  into  resolved  propo- 
sitions, but  latent,*  in  confused  notions  of  it, 
scarcely  discernible  by  himself;  at  least,  not 
searched  out  and  discerned  in  his  own  breast  : 
there  they  are,  and  he  sees  them  not,  not 
Written  assertions,  but  flying  fumes,  filling 
the  soul,  and  hindering  it  to  read  the  char- 
acters of  God  that  are  writ  upon  the  con- 
science. 

The  impenitency  of  men,  in  any  condition, 
and  particularly  under  distress,  is  frmm  the 
want  of  cl  iar  apprehensions  and  deep  persua- 
sions of  God,  of  his  just  anger  provoked  by 
their  sin,  and  of  his  sweetness  and  readiness 
to  forgive  <nd  embrace  a  reluming  sinner:  of 
hissovereign  power,  able  to  rid  them  out  of  the 
greatest  trouble,  his  ear,  (|uick  etioush  to  bear 
the  cries,  yea,  the  least  whispering  of  an  hum- 
b'cd  heart  in  the  lowest  deep  of  his  sorrow, 
"  Ezek.  viii.  7.    Behind  the  ualh 


and  his  arm,  long  enough  to  reach  them,  and 
strong  enough  to  draw  them  forth.  He  that 
comes  unto  God,  must  heJieve  that  he  is,  says 
the  apostle,  Heb.  xi.  6.  So,  certainly,  he  who 
believes  that,  must  come  ;  it  will  sweetly  con- 
strain him  :  he  can  not  but  come,  who  is  so 
persuaded.  Were  men's  hearts  much  im- 
pressed with  that  belief  in  all  their  troubles, 
they  would  eye  men  less,  and  God  more,  and 
without  delay  they  would  fasten  upon  the 
church's  resolution,  Hos.  vi.  1  :  Come  and  let 
us  return  untn  the  Lord  ;  for  he  hath  torn, 
and  he  will  heal  us,  he  hath  smitten,  and  he 
will  bind  us  up.  And  this  is  the  very  thing 
that  the  prophet  would  here  persuade  to  by 
his  present  doctrine  ;  and  having  impleaded 
them  guilty,  he  sets  them  a  copy  of  humble 
confession,  ver.  12,  &c.  Hence  the  frequent 
complaints  in  the  Psalms,  Why  hulesl  thou 
thyself?  So  Psalm  xxii.  2  :  I  cry,  but  thou 
hearest  not. 

In  the  words  of  these  two  verses,  these  tw 
things  appear :  a  sad  condition,  and  the  true 
cause  of  it. 

The  condition,  I  think,  I  have  reason  to 
call  sad :  it  is  God  hiding  his  face  that  he 
will  not  hear.  This  may  be  either  the  per- 
sonal estate  of  his  children,  or  the  public  es- 
tate of  his  church.  From  a  soul,  he  hides  his 
face,  not  so  much  in  the  withdrawing  of  sen- 
sible comforts  and  sweet  tastes  of  joy,  which 
to  many  are  scarcely  known,  and  to  such  as 
do  know  them,  commonly  do  not  continue 
very  long,  but  it  is  a  suspension  of  that  lively 
influence  of  his  Divine  power,  for  raising  the 
mind  in  the  coniem[)lation  of  him  and  com- 
munion with  him  in  prayer  and  meditation, 
which  yet  may  be,  where  those  relishes  and 
senses  of  joy  are  not.  And  the  returns  of  it 
appear  in  beating  down  the  power  of  sin, 
or  abating  and  subduing  it,  making  the  heart 
more  pure  and  heavenly,  making  it  more  to 
live  by  faith  in  Christ,  to  be  often  at  the 
throne  of  grace,  and  to  receive  gracious  an- 
swers, supplies  of  wants,  and  assistances 
against  temptations.  Now,  when  there  is  a 
cessation  and  obstruction  of  these  and  such 
like  workings,  the  face  of  God  is  hid ;  the 
soul  is  at  a  loss,  seeks  still  and  can  not  find 
him  whom  it  loveih.  And  in  this  condition 
it  can  not  take  comfort  in  other  things;  they 
are  too  low.  It  is  a  higher  and  nol)ler  desire 
than  to  be  satisfied,  or  diverted,  with  the 
childish  things  that  even  men  delight  in  who 
know  not  God.  It  is  a  love-sickness,  which 
nothing  can  cure  but  the  presence, and  love 
of  the  party  loved.  Yea,  nothing  can  so  much 
as  allay  the  pain,  and  give  an  interval  of  ease, 
or  recover  a  fainting  fit,  but  some  good  word 
or  look,  or  at  least  some  kind  message  from 
him.  Set  thee  in  a  palace,  and  all  dcliirhts 
about  thee,  and  a  crown  on  thy  head,  yet,  if 
his  love  has  c(!ased  on  thy  heart,  these  are  all 
nothin;;  without  hiin.  It  was  after  David 
was  advanced  to  his  kingdom,  and  is  in  the 
,  Psalm  of  the  dedication  of  his  royal  house, 
I  that  he  said.  Thou  didst  hide  thy  face,  and  1 


M6 


THE  GOODNESS  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  XVIII 


iras  tronhhd.  Ps.  xxx.  7.  q.  d.  All  is  dark  : 
all  the  shining  marhle,  and  the  gold,  and  the 
azure,  lose  their  lustre,  when  thou  art  not 
here  dwoJling  with  nie. 

And  thus- tor  the  church  ;  God  is  the  proper 
liffht,  the  beauty,  the  life  of  it.  Deck  it  with 
all  this  world's  splendor,  with  all  the  dresses 
ot  pompous  worship,  these  are  not  its  genuine 
beauty  :  and  they  i)rovoke  Him  who  is  its  or- 
nament (as  is  Jer.  ii.  32)  to  depart.  But  give 
it  the  native  purity  and  beauty  of  holy  minis- 
ters and  ordinances  well  regulated,  yet,  even 
that  is  but  a  dead  comeliness,  proportion  and 
feature  without  life,  when  God  is  absent. 

And  as  for  tlie  matter  of  deliverances  and 
working  fur  her,  which  is  here  the  thing  in 
hand,  none  can  do  anything  in  that,  not  the 
wisest,  nor  the  best  of  men,  with  all  their 
combined  wit  and  strength,  when  he  retires 
and  comes  not  ibrth,  doth  not  show  himself 
on  the  behalf  of  his  people,  and  work  their 
works  for  them.  These  have,  it  may  be, 
some  kind  of  prayer  possibly;  thev  offer  at 
extraordinarie?,  and  yet  obtain  nothing,  are 
not  heard.  The  saddest  note  in  all  the  Song 
of  Lamentations,  is  that  at  chapter  iii.  43,  44  : 
Thou  hast  covered  with  anger,  and  persecuted 
us  ;  thou  hast  slain,  thou  hast  not  pitied  ;  thou 
hast  covered  thyself  ivilh  a  cloud,  that  our 
vrayer  should  not  pass  throuirh.  Still,  while 
that  door  stands  open,  there  is  hope  and  rem- 
edy for  other  evils  ;  but  that  beinsf  shut,  what 
can  a  people,  or  a  sou!  expect,  but  growing 
troubles,  one  sorrow  upon  the  back  of  anoth- 
er ?  Yea,  that  is  the  great  trouble,  the  hiding 
of  his  face,  and  his  refusing  to  hear.  Observe 
Job  xxxiv.  29  :  When  he  giveth  peace,  who 
then  can  make  trouble  ?  Now  the  other,  in 
the  same  terms,  would  have  been.  When  he 
makes  trouble,  who  can  s-ive  peace  ?  Bat  in- 
stead of  this,  it  is,  When  he  hides  his  face,  who 
then  can  behold  him?  No  peace  but  in  be- 
holding him,  and  nothing  but  trouble,  that  is 
the  grand  trouble,  when  he  hides  his  face. 
And  it  is  expressed  in  both  cases,  whether  it 
be  personal  or  national,  whether  against  a  na- 
tion or  a  man  only. 

This  is  the  thing  wherein  the  strength  of 
other  troubles  lie,  that  which  gives  them 
wei<rht,  when  they  impart  and  signify  thus 
much,  that  the  face  of  God  is  hid  from  a  soul 
or  a  people. 

We  ought  to  inquire  if  this  be  not  our  zox\- 
aition  at  this  time.  Hath  he  not  hid  his  face 
from  us  ?  Are  we  not  left  in  the  dark,  that  we 
know  not  which  way  to  turn  us?  Either  we 
must  sit  still  and  do  nothing,  or,  if  we  stir,  we 
rio  but  rush  one  upon  another,  as  in  darkness, 
tontesting  each  to  have  the  way,  and  yet, 
when  we  have  it  given  us,  we  know  not  well 
which  way  to  go.  And  we  think  to  be  cleared, 
out  it  fails  us  ;  as  in  this  chapter,  ver.  9  :  We 
v:ait  for  ltsht,hut  behold  obscurity,  for  bright- 
ness, but  we  walk  in  darkness  :  ive  grope  for 
ihe  wall  like  the  blind,  and  stumble  at  noonday 
as  in  the  nisht.  Our  counsels  are  strangely 
darkened,  and  there  is  no  right  understanding 


'  one  of  another.  By  all  our  debates,  little  or 
no  clearing  of  things  is  aitained,  but  our  pas- 

'  sions  are  more  inflamed,  and  parlies  are  fur. 

j  ther  off;  the  light  of  sound  judgment  gone, 
and  with  it  the  heat  of  love,  instead  of  which, 
that  miserable  infernal  beat,  heat  withou' 
light,  mutual  hatreds  and  revilings ;  both 
sides  (verbally  at  least)  agreeing  in  the  gen- 
eral terms  both  of  their  desires  and  designs, 
and  yet  falling  out  about  modes  and  fashion? 
of  them.  And  to  say  no  more  of  parties,  the 
enemies  of  religion  on  both  hands,  right  and 

;  left,  are  in  action  and  in  power,  and  only 
those  who  love  that  which  we  conceive  is  the 
way  of  truth,  standing  as  a  naked  prey  to 
whether  of  the  two  shall  prevail.  Desires 
and  prayers  we  have  presented,  and  .gee  as 
yet  no  appearance  of  an  issue,  but  further 
confusion,  even  fasting  to  strife  and  debate. 
And  where  are  there  any  that  look  like  per- 
sons to  stand  in  the  gap,  lifting  up  holy  hands, 
without  wralh  or  doubting  ?  Hearts  are  still 
as  unhumbled,and  live  as  unreformed  asever! 
New  intestinetroubles  are  most  likely  to  arise, 
few  or  none  laying  it  to  heart,  and  with  calm, 
lowly  spirits  mourning  before  God  for  it. 

\Epfiraim  against  Manasseh,  and  ManaSich 

i  against  Ephraim,  and  they  both  against  Ju* 

!  dah  ;  and  for  all  this,  his  anger  is  not  turned 
away,  but  his  hand  is  stretched  out  still.  Isa. 
ix.  21. 

I     But  generally,  men  ought  to  be  less  ia  de- 
scanting one  on  another,  and  more  in  search- 
ing and  inquiring  each  into  himself.  Even 
where  it  may  seem  zeal,  yet-  nature  and  pas- 
sion mav  more  easily  let  in  the  other  ;  but 
this  self-search  and  self-censure  is  an  uneasy 
task,  the  most  unpleasant  of  all  things  to  our 
'  carnal,  self-loving  hearts.     But  the  heavy 
;  hand  of  God  shall  never  turn  from  us,  nor  his 
'  gracious  face  turn  toward  us,  till  there  is 
i  more  of  this  among  us.    Most  say  their  pray- 
!  ers,  and  as  they  are  little  worth,  they  look 
j  little  after  them,  inquire  not  what  becomes 
i  of  them.    But,  my  brethren,  would  we  con- 
tinue to  call,  and  find  favorable  answers,  we 
must  be  more  within.    The  heart  must  be 
m.nde  a  temple  to  God,  wherein  sacrifices  do 
ascend  ;  but  that  they  may  be  accepted,  it 
must  be  purged  of  idols,  nothing  left  in  any 
corner  though  never  so  secret,  to  stir  the  jeal- 
ousy of  our  God,  who  sees  through  all.  Oh, 
happy  that  heart  that  is,  as  Jacob's  house, 
purged,  in  which  no  more  idols  are  to  be 
found,  but  the  Holy  God  dwelling  there  alone 
as  in  his  holy  temple  ! 

Behold,  the  Lord's  hand  is  not  shortened.] 
Much  of  all  knowledge  lies  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  causes  ;  and  in  practical  things,  much 
of  the  right  ordering  of  them  depends  on  it. 
The  true  cause  of  a  disease  found  out,  is  half 
the  cure.  Here  we  have  the  miseries  of  an 
afflicted  people  reduced  to  their  real  cause: 
that  which  is  not  the  cause,  is  first  removed. 
Behold,  the  Lord's  hand  is  not  shortened,  that 
it  can  not  save  ;  but  your  iniquities  have  sepa' 
rated  between  you  and.  your  God. 


TsA.  lix.  ],  2.] 


AND  THE  WICKEDNESS  OF  MAN. 


\ 

517 


We  are  not  only  to  be  untaught  this  error, 
that  we  think  not  so,  hut  are  to  be  taught  to 
believe  an(|  think  on  that  truth,  that  God  is 
still  the  same  in  power  and  gcjodness,  to  keep 
up  the  motion  of  it  in  our  hearts.  So  we  may 
call  in  past  experiences  and  relations  of  God's 
former  workin£;s  for  his  people,  and  that  with 
much  use  and  comfort.  He  who  brought  forth 
his  people  out  of  Egypt  with  an  outstreiched 
arm  (as  still  they  are  reiuinded  of  that  deliv- 
erance by  the  prophets,  and  called  to  look  on 
it  as  the  great  instance  and  pledge  of  their 
restoration  bv  the  same  hand),  can  again  de- 
liver his  people  when  at  the  lowest.  Isaiah 
1.  2. 

And  with  this  belief,  we  shall  not  faint  in 
the  time  of  deep  distress,  whether  our  own, 
or  the  church's,  knowing  the  unalterable,  in- 
vincible, infinite  power  of  our  God  ;  that  all 
the  strength  of  all  enemies  is  nothing,  and 
less  than  nothing,  to  his:  their  devices,  knots 
of  straw.  What  is  it  that  is  to  be  done  for  his 
church,  if  her  and  his  glory  be  interested  in 
it  ?  There  remains  no  question  in  point  of  dif- 
ficulty: that  hath  no  place  with  him.  The 
more  difficult,  yea,  if  impossible  for  us  or  any 
human  strength,  the  more  fit  work  for  him. 
Bacnw^e  it  is  hard  for  you,  shall  il  also  be 
hard  for  me  ?  saith  the  Lord  in  the  prophet. 
And  where  Jeremy  uses  that  argument  in 
prayer,  he  hath  his  answer  returned  in  the 
same  words,  as  the  echo  to  the  prayer,  re- 
sounding from  heaven  (chap,  xxxii.  17,  com- 
pared with  ver.  27),  and  that  in  relation  to  the 
great  restoration  of  the  Tews  from  Babylon, 
as  is  expre-^sly  promised,  ver.  36,  &c.  And 
there  the  prophet  gives  that  first  irreat  exam- 
ple of  Divine  power,  the  forming  ol'tlie  world, 
ver.  17  :  Behold,  thou  hast  made  the  henrcn 
and  the  earth  by  thy  uroat  power. 

Men  think  it  is  an  easy,  common  belief,  and 
that  none  doubt  of  the  omnipf)tency  of  God. 
But  oh,  the  undaunted  confidence  it  would 
give  to  the  heart,  being  indeed  firmly  be- 
lieved, and  wisely  used  and  applied  to  partic- 
ular exigencies!  Men  either  doubt,  or  (which, 
upon  the  mat  er,  for  the  use  of  it,  is  all  one) 
they  forget  who  the  Lord  is,  when  their  hearts 
misgive  them  because  of  the  church's  weak- 
ness, and  the  enemy's  power.  What  is  that 
upon  the  matter?  Remember  whose  is  the 
church,  God's,  and  what  his  power  is,  and 
then  see  if  thou  canst  find  any  cause  of  fear. 
See  Isa.  xli.  14:  Fear  not,  thou  irorm  Jacob, 
and  ye  men— few  or  weak  men — (so  the  word 
is) — of  Israel:  J  will  help  thee,  saith  the 
Lord,  and  thi/  Redeemer,  the  Holy  One  of  Is- 
rael. SoTsa.  li.  12,  13  :  L  even  I,  am  he  that 
cnmfnrteth  ynu.  There  is  the  strength  of  it. 
Who  art  thuu,that  thou  shouldsl  he  afraid  of 
1  rr.an  that  sh'ill  die,  and  of  the  son  of  man, 
which  shall  he  made  as  <rrass  ;  and  forgetlest 
the  Lord  thy  Maker,  that  hath  stretched  forth 
the  hcavrns,  and  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
earth  ?  Do  but  think  aright  on  him,  and  then 
»ee  if  it  be  possible  for  thee  to  fear.  All  thy 
little  doubts  and  despondencies  c  '  mind  will 


fly  and  vanish  away  before  one  clear  thought 
of  thy  God.  Though  the  world  were  turning 
upside  down,  it  shall  go  well  with  them  who 
fear  him. 

And  as  this  apprehension  of  God  strength- 
ens faith,  so  it  quickens  prayer.  It  stirs  thee 
up  to  seek  to  bim  for  help,  when  thou  know- 
est  and  remembcrest  that  there  it  is.  There  is 
help  in  him,  power  enough,  and  no  want  ot 
readiness  and  good  will  neither.  If  we  apply 
ourselves  to  seek  him  aright,  his  hand  is  as 
strong  to  save,  and  his  ear  as  quick  to  hear, 
as  ever.  And  in  this,  that  his  ear  is  not 
heavy,  is  signified  both  his  speedy  and  certain 
knowledge  of  all  requests  sent  up  to  him,  and 
his  gracious  inclination  to  receive  them.  Now, 
these  persuasions  do  undoubtedly  draw  up 
j  the  heart  toward  him. 

Again,  as  they  strengthen  faith,  and  quick- 
en prayer,  so  they  each  us  repentance,  direct 
us  inward  to  self  examination,  to  the  search- 
ing, and  finding  out,  and  purg-ing  out  of  sin, 
when  deliverance  is  delayed  :  for  we  are 
sure  it  stops  not  upon  either  of  these  on  God's 
part,  either  the  shortness  of  his  hand,  or  the 
dulness  of  t.is  ear.  Whence  is  it  then  ?  Cer- 
tainly, it  must  be  somewhat  on  our  side,  that 
works  against  us,  and  prejudices  our  desires. 
So  here,  thus  you  see  the  clear  aim  of  it :  Be- 
hold, the  Lord^s  hand  is  not  shortened,  that 
it  can  not  save,  nor  his  ear  hravy,  that  it  can 
not  hear.  What  is  it  then  that  hinders  ?  Oh  ! 
it  is  this,  out  of  all  doubt — Your  iniquities 
separate,  old  sins  unrcpentcd  of,  and  new 
sins  still  added,  as  all  impenitent  sinners  do. 
j  Now  this  separates  hclwern  yon  and  God,  for 
;  he  is  a  holy  (rod,  a  just  God  :  who  hates  in- 
j  iquity.  And  between  you  and  your  God  :  that 
j  pleads  no  connivance  at  your  sins,  but  rather 
I  calls  for  nearer  inspection  and  sharper  pun- 
ishment. He  will  be  sanctified  m  those  that 
are  near  hiin,  in  them  especially.  Their  sin 
is  aggravated  much  by  that  relation,  your 
God.  To  sin  against  him  so  grossly,  so  con- 
tinuedly,  with  so  high  a  hand,  and  so  impen- 
itent hearts;  not  reclaimed  by  all  his  mer- 
cies, by  the  remetnbrance  of  his  covenant 
made  with  you,  and  mercies  bestowed  on 
you,  nor  by  the  fear  of  his  judgments  threat- 
ened, nor  by  the  feeling  of  them  inflicted  ;  no 
returning  or  relenting,  not  of  his  own  people 
to  their  God  —surely,  you  must  be  yet  more 
punished.  Amos  iii.  :-  /"ou  only  have  I 
known  of  all  I  he  families  of  the  earth;  there- 
fore will  I  punish  you  for  all  your  inii/uities. 
(/.  d.  I  let  others  escape  with  many  things 
that  1  can  not  pass  over  in  you.  You  fast 
and  pray,  it  ma--  be,  you  howl  and  keep 
a  noise,  hut  yoi>  imend  nothing,  forsake  not 
one  sin  for  all  your  sufferings,  and  for  all 
your  moanings  and  cries.  You  would  be 
delivered,  l)Ut  do  not  part  with  one  of  your 
lusts  or  wicked  customs,  even  for  a  deliver- 
ance :  and  so  the  quarrel  remains  still.  It 
is  that  which  separates,  is  as  a  huge  wall 
I  between  us.  between  me  and  your  prayers, 
I  and  between  you  and  my  helping  hand  ;  and 


5J8 


THE  GOODNESS  OF  GOD,  fee. 


[Ser.  XV  rn 


though  I  do  hear,  and  could  help,  vol,  I  will  ! 
not  :  till  this  wall  be  down,  you  shiill  not  see 
nic,  nor  find  by  any  gracious  sign  that  I  hear  i 
you.    This  bides  his  face,  that  he  ici/l  not  | 

This  way  God  hath  established  in  his  ordi- 
nary methods  with  hispeojile:  though  s;)me- 
tiines  he  uses  his  own  privilege,  yet,  usu- 
ally he  links  and  Cdlfiiiiiti/  together,  and 
ripentancc  and  deliverance  together. 

Sin  separates  and  hides  bis  face,  not  only 
from  a  people  that  professes  his  name,  but 
even  from  a  soul  ibat  really  bears  his  name 
stamped  upon  it.  Though  it  can  not  fully, 
and  for  ever,  cut  off  such  a  soul,  yet,  in  part, 
and  for  a  time,  it  may,  yea,  to  be  sure,  it  will 
separate,  and  hide  the  face  of  God  from  them. 
Their  daily  inevitable  frailties  do  not  this: 
but  eitiier  a  course  of  careless  walking,  and 
many  little  unlawful  liberties  taken  to  them- 
selves, that  will  rise  and  gather  as  a  cloud, 
and  hide  the  face  of  God  :  or  some  one  gross 
sin,  especially  if  often  reiterated,  will  prove 
as  a  firm  stone-wall,  or  rather  as  a  brazen- 
wall,  built  up  by  their  own  hands  between 
them  and  heaven,  and  will  not  be  so  easilv 
dissolved  or  broken  down  ;  and  yet,  till  that 
be,  the  light  of  His  countenance,  who  is  the 
life  of  the  soul,  will  be  eclipsed  and  withheld 
IV om  it. 

And  this  considered,  besides  that  law  of 
love  that  will  forbid  so  foul  ingratitude,  yet,  I 
say,  this  considered,  even  our  own  interest 
will  make  us  wary  of  sinning.  Though  we 
were  sure  not  to  be  yet  altogether  scpiirated 
from  the  love  of  God  by  it,  yet,  thou  who 
liast  any  persuasion  of  that  love,  darest  thou 
Venture  upon  any  known  sin  ?  Thou  art  not 
liazardless  and  free  i'rom  all  damage  by  it,  if 
thou  hast  need  of  that  argument  to  restrain 
ihee.  Then,  before  thou  run  upon  it,  sit 
down  and  reckon  the  expense  :  see  what  will 
it  cost  thee  if  thou  do  commit  it.  Thou  know- 
est  that  once  it  cost  the  heari-blood  of  thv 
Redeemer  to  expiate  it,  and  is  that  a  light 
matter  to  thee  ?  And  though  that  paid  all 
that  score,  nothing  thou  canst  suffer  being 
able  to  do  anything  that  way,  yet,  as  an  una- 
voidable i)resent  fruit  of  it,  it  will  draw  on 
this  damage  ;  thou  shall  be  sure  for  a  time, 
it  may  be  for  a  long  time,  ptissibly  most  of 
thy  time,  nearly  all  thy  days,  it  may  darken 
nmch  that  love  of  God  to  thee,  which  if 
thou  dosi  but  esteem,  think  .on  it.  It  chan- 
ges not  in  him,  but  a  sad  change  will  sin 
bring  on  thee,  as  to  thy  siefht  and  apprehen- 
sion of  it.  Many  a  sweet  hour  of  blessed 
communion  with  thy  God  shall  thou  miss, 
and  either  be  dead  and  stupid  in  that  want, 
or  mourn  after  him,  and  yet  find,  though 
sighs  and  tears  continue,  the  door  shui,  yea, 
a  dead  wall  raised  between  thee  and  him, 
and  at  best  much  siraiiening  and  jiains  to 
lake  it  down  again  ;  contrary  to  other  walls 
and  buildings,  which  are  far  mcjre  easily 
pulled  down  than  buill  up,  bui  this  is  a  great 
deal  easier  built  up  than  pulled  down.  True, 


thy  God  could  cast  it  down  with  a  word,  and  i 
is  his  free  grace  that  must  do  it,  otherwise 
thou  couldsi  never  remove  it :  |^et  will  he 
have  thee  feel  thy  own  handywork,  and 
know  thy  folly.  Thou  must  be  at  pains  to 
dig  at  it,  and  may  be  it  will  cost  thee  broken 
bones  in  taking  it  down,  pieces  of  it  falling 
heavy  and  sad  u-jxin  thy  conscience, and  crush- 
ing thee  :  as  David  cried  out  at  that  work,  for 
a  healing  word  from  God,  Make  me  In  hear 
joy  (iiid  gladness,  thai  the  hones  which  thou 
hd.tt  hroken  may  rejoice.  Psalm  li.  8.  It  will 
force  ihee  lo  say,  0  fool  that  I  was,  what 
meant  I  !  Oh  !  it  is  good,  keeping  near  God, 
and  raising  no  divisions.  What  are  sins? 
False  delights,  by  which  a  man  but  provides 
his  own  vexation.  Now,  this  distance  from 
God,  and  all  this  turrnoiling,  and  breaking, 
and  crying  before  he  appears  again,  consider 
if  any  pleasure  of  sin  can  countervail  this 
damage.  Surely,  when  thou  art  not  out  of 
thy  wits,  thou  wilt  never  make  such  a  bar- 
gain for  all  the  pleasure  thou  canst  make  out 
of  any  sin,  to  breed  thyself  all  this  pains,  and 
all  this  grief,  at  once  lo  displease  thy  God, 
and  displease  thyself,  and  make  a  partition 
between  him  and  thee.  Oh,  sweet  and  safe 
ways  of  holiness,  walking  with  God  in  his 
company  and  favor  !  He  that  orders  his  con- 
versation aright,  he  sees  the  loving  kindness 
of  the  Lord :  It  is  shown  to  him  ;  he  lives  in 
the  sight  of  it.   Fsalm  1.  23. 

But  if  any  such  separation  is  made,  yet,  is 
it  thy  great  desire  to  have  it  removed  ?  Why 
then  there  is  hope.  See  to  it,  labor  to  break 
it  down,  and  pray  to  him  lo  help  thee,  and  he 
will  put  forth  his  hand,  and  then  it  must  fall. 
And  in  all  thy  sense  of  separation,  look  to 
him  who  /irake  down  the  middle  wall  of  ■par- 
tition, Eph.  ii.  14.  There  it  is  spoken  of  as 
between  men,  Jews  and  Gentiles,  but  so  as  it 
was  also  between  the  Gentiles  and  God,  who 
were  separated  from  his  people,  and  from 
himself.  See  ver.  16:  That  he  might  recou' 
cile  both  to  God  in  one  body;  and  ver.  18: 
Throuiih  him  we  have  access  hi/  one  Spirit  to 
the  Father.  And  then  he  adds,  that  they 
were  no  more  strangers  and  foreigners, 
dwelling  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  n-ifl.uui, 
as  the  word  is,  but  fellow-citizens  with  the 
saint:;,  and  of  the  househidd  of  God.  .  ' 

Oh,  that  we  knew  more  what  it  were  to 
live  in  this  sweet  society,  in  undivided  fel- 
lowship with  God!  Alas!  how  little  is  un- 
derstood this  living  in  him,  separated  from 
sin  and  this  world,  which  otherwise  do  sep- 
arate from  him  :  solacing  our  hearts  in  his 
love,  and  desjiising  the  base  muddy  delights 
that  the  world  admires:  hoping  for  ihatA^ew 
Jerusalem,  where  none  of  these  walls  of  sin 
are,  nor  any  one  stone  of  them,  and  for  that 
bright  day  wherein  there  is  no  cloud  nor  mist 
to  hide  our  Sun  from  us. 

Now,  for  the  condition  of  the  church, 
know  sin  to  be  the  great  obstructer  of  iis 
peace,  making  him  to  withdraw  his  hand, 
and  hide  his  face,  and  lo  turn  away  his  eai 


6.0JI.  xiii.  11 — 14.J 


TIME  rO  AWAKE. 


518 


from  our  prayers,  and  loath  our  fasts  :  as  Tsa. 
i.  15,  and  Jer.  xiv.  The  quarrel  stands  : 
sin  not  repented  of  and  removed.  The  wall 
is  still  standing;  oaths,  and  sabbath-break- 
ing-, and  pride,  and  oppression,  and  heart- 
burnings siill  remaining.  Oh,  what  a  noise 
of  religion  and  reformation  !  All  sides  are  for 
the  name  of  it,  and  how  little  of  the  thing- ! 
The  gospel  itself  is  despised,  grown  stale, 
as  trivial  doctrine.  Oh,  my  beloved  I  if  I 
could  speak  many  hours  without  intermis- 
sion, all  my  cry  would  be,  Repent  a?id  pray. 
Let  us  search  and  try  our  ways,  and  turn 
unio  the  Lord  our  God.  Oh,  what  walls  of 
every  one's  sin  are  set  to  it!  Dig  diligently 
to  bring  down  thine  own  ;  and  for  those  huge 
wails  of  public  national  guiltinesses,  if  thou 
canst  do  nothing  to  them  more,  compass  them 
about  as  Jericho,  and  look  up  to  heaven  for 
their  downfall.  Cry,  Lord,  these  we  our- 
selves have  reared,  but  without  thee  who 
can  bring  them  down  ?  Lord,  throw  them 
down  for  us.  A  touch  of  ihy  hand,  a  wurd 
of  thy  mouih,  will  make  them  fall.  Were 
we  less  busied  in  impertinences,  and  more  in 
this  most  needful  work,  it  might  do  some 
good.  Who  knows  but  the  Lord  might  make 
his  own  way  clear,  and  return  and  visit  us, 
and  make  his  face  to  shine,  that  we  might 
be  saved ! 


SERMON  XIX. 

TIJIE  TO  AWAKE. 

Romans  xiii.  11,  12,  13,  14. 

* 

And  that,  knowing  the  time,  that  now  it  is  high  lime 

to  !i\v;ike  out  ot'  sleep  ;  Cor  now  is  our  salvation 

nearer  lhan  Wricn  we  believed. 
The  nisjlit  is  far  spent,  tlie  day  is  at  hand:  let  us 

therelore  cast  off  (he  works  of  darkness,  and  let  us 

put  on  the  armor  ol  lij^ht. 
Let  us  walk  honestlyas  in  the  day  ;  not  in  rioting  and 

drunkenness,  not  in  chambering  and  wantonness, 

not  in  strife  and  envying. 
But  put  yi'  on  the  I.nril  .Jesus  Christ,  and  make  not 

provision  fur  the  flesh,  to  fulfil  the  lusts  thereof. 

The  highest  beauty  of  the  soul,  the  very 
image  of  God  upon  it,  is  holiness.  He  that 
is  as[)iring  to  it  himself,  is  upon  a  must 
excellent  design  :  and  if  he  can  do  anything 
to  excite  and  call  up  others  to  it,  he  performs 
a  work  of  the  greatest  charity. 

This,  St.  Paul  doth  frequently  and  pres- 
singly  in  his  writings.  This  epistle,  as  it 
doth  admirably  clear  the  d(jctrine  of  justift- 
calion,  it  doth  not  less  earnesily  urge  the  doc- 
trine of  sanr.tification.  That  one  sentence 
about  the  middle  thereof,  dues  excellently 
unite  them,  and  so  is  the  summary  of  all  that 
goes  before,  and  all  that  fcillows:  ch.  viii.  1: 
'ihere  is  therefore  now  no  condemnation  to 
them  tuhich  arc  in  Christ  Jrsu^,  who  ivalk  not 
after  the  fesh,  hut  after  the  Spirit. 

The  present  words  are  as  an  alarm,  or 
morning  watch-bell,  of  singular  use.  not  only 


awaking  a  ChristiAn  o  his  day's  work,  hut 
withal  reminding  him  what  it  is  And  these 
two  shall  be  all  our  division  of  them.  1.  Oui 
awaking  sounded.  2.  Our  walking  directed. 
The  former,  ver.  11,  12,  tells  us,  it  is  time  to 
rise,  and  calls  us  up  to  put  on  our  clothes, 

[  and,  being  soldiers,  our  arms.  The  latter, 
ver.  13,  directeth  our  behavior  and  employ- 
ment throughout  the  day.  The  last  verse 
doth  shortly,  and  that  fully  and  clearly,  fold 
up  both  together.  We  shall  take  the  words 
just  as  they  lie. 

And  that,  knowing  the  time.  This  imports 
much  in  all  actions,  and  here  it  is  the  apos- 
tle's great  argument.  Now  it  is  unfit  to 
sleep,  knowing  the  time  :  however  it  might 
have  been  before,  now  it  is  very  unseasona- 
ble and  unsuitable,  that  you  lie  snoring  as  at 
midnight.  Do  you  know  what  o'clock  it  is 
I 'I  ifxj)?  It  is  time  to  rise:  it  is  morning,  the 
day  begins  to  ap[)e»r. 

[Ohseri-alion.]  All  the  days  of  sinful  na- 
ture are  dark  night,  in  which  there  is  no  right 
discerning  of  spiritual  things.    Some  light 

!  there  is  of  reason,  to  direct  natural  and  civil 

'actions,  but  no  daylight.  Till  the  sun  arise 
it  is  night  still,  for  all  the  stars,  and  the  moon 
to  help  them.  Notwithstanding  natural  spec- 

j  ulaiions,  that  are  more  remote,  and  all  pru- 
dence and  i)olicy  for  affairs,  that  come  some- 
what nearer  to  action,  vet  we  are  still  in  the 
night.  And  you  do  tliink  that  a  sad  life,  but 
the  truth  is,  we  sleep  on  in  it,  and  our  beads 
are  still  full  of  new  dreams  which  keep  us 
sleeping.  We  are  constantly  drunk  with  cares 
of  desires  of  sense,  and  so  our  sleep  contin- 
ues. Kometimes  it  is  called  death — diad  in 
sins,  &c.  Now  sleip  is  br(jthcr  to  death; 
and  so,  by  it  not  unfitly  is  the  same  state  re- 
sembled. No  spiritual  life  we  have  at  all, 
and  therefore  in  that  sense  are  truly  dead. 
But  because  there  is  in  us  a  natural  life,  and 
in  that,  a  capacity  of  spiritual  life,  therefi^re 
we  are  .said  to  be  asleep.  As  in  a  deep  sleep, 
our  soul  is  bound  up  and  drowned  in  flesh, 
through  a  surcharge  of  the  vapors  of  gross, 
sensible  things  that  we  glut  ourselves  with- 
al ;  and  the  condition  of  our  wisest  thoughts, 
in  relation  to  our  highest  good,  are  mithing 
but  dreams  aiid  reveries.  Your  projectings, 
and  bargainings,  and  buildings,  these  be  a 
better  sort  of  dreams  ;  but  your  eiivyings,  and 
mutual  (lespisiiigs  and  discontents,  your  de- 
tracting and  evil-.sj)eaking,  these  are  more 

I  impertinent,  and  to  yourselves  more  perplex 
ing.  And  your  sweetest  enjoyments  in  this 
life,  which  you  think  most  real,  are  but  shad- 
ows of  delight,  a  more  pleasant  sort  of 
dreams.  All  pomps  and  royal  solemnities, 
the  Scripture  calls  favTaatas,  phantasies.  Acts 

\  XXV.  23.  A  man  will  not  readily  think  so 
while  he  is  in  them.  Somnium  narrare  vigi- 
laniis  est.  We  do  not  perceive  the  vanity  of 
our  dreams,  and  know  that  they  are  so,  till 

I  we  be  awaked.  Sometimes  in  a  dream  a 
man  will  have  such  a  thought  that  it  is  but  a 

,  dream,  yet  doth  he  not  thoroughly  see  the 


t)20 


TIME  TO  AWAKE. 


[Si^R.  XIX. 


folly  thereof,  but  <xocs  on  in  it.  The  natural 
man  may  liavo  soinetinies  a  plance  of  such 
thouJ:lits,  that  all  these  things  he  is  either 
turuKiiliiio-  or  clelif^hting  in,  are  vanity  and 
nolhinsi  to  the  purpose  ;  yet,  he  awakes  not, 
but  raves  on  still  in  theni ;  he  shifts  a  little, 
turns  on  his  bed  as  a  door  on  its  binges,  but 
turns  not  ulf,  does  not  rise. 

But  the  spiritual-minded  Christian,  who  is 
indeed  awake,  and  looks  back  on  his  former 
thoughts  and  ways,  oh,  how  does  he  disdain 
himself,  and  all  his  former  high  fancies  that 
he  was  most  (deased  with,  finding  them 
dreams!  Oh,  what  a  fool,  what  a  wretch 
was  I,  while  my  bead  was  full  of  such  stuff, 
building  castles  in  the  air,  imagining  and 
catching  at  such  gains,  and  funb  i)refermenis 
and  i)leasures.  and  either  ihev  still  running 
before  me,  and  I  could  not  overtake  them,  or, 
if  I  though  I  did,  what  have  I  now,  wben  I 
see  what  it  is,  and  find  that  I  have  embraced 
a  shadow,  false  hopes,  and  fears,  and  joys ! 
He  thinks  hv  hath  eaten,  and  his  sou/  is  empty. 
Isa.  xxix.  8.  And  yoa  that  will  sleep  on.  may  ; 
but  sure  I  am,  when  you  come  to  your  death- 
bed, if  possibly  you  awake  then," then  shall 
you  look  back,  with  sad  regret,  upon  what- 
soever you  most  esteemed  and  gloried  in  under 
the  sun.  While  they  are  coming  toward  you, 
they  have  some  show  ;  but,  as  a  dream  that 
is  past,  when  these  gay  things  are  flown  by, 
then  we  see  how  vain  they  are.  As  that 
liixurioui  king  who  caused  to  he  painted  on 
his  tomb  two  fingers,  as  sounding  one  upon 
another,  with  that  word,  A/i  is  not  worth  so 
much,  Non  tanli  est.  I  know  not  how  men 
make  a  shift  to  satisfy  themselves  :  but,  take  a 
sober  and  awakened  Chrisiian,  and  set  him  in 
the  midst  of  the  best  of  all  things  that  are  here, 
his  heart  would  burst  with  desjiair  of  satisfac- 
tion, were  it  not  for  a  hope  that  he  hath,  be- 
yond all  that  this  poor  world  either  attainsor  is 
seeking  after,  and  that  hope  is,  indeed,  the 
dawning  of  the  day  that  is  here  spoken  of. 

It  is  time  to  awake,  say?^  he:  yovr  salvation 
IS  nearer  than  xrhen  ye  believed.  That  bright 
day  you  look  for,  is  hastening  forward;  it  is 
nearer  than  when  you  began  to  believe.  The 
night  isfar  spent,  thegross  darkness  is  already 
past,  some  daylight  there  is,  and  it  is  every 
niomcnt  growing,  and  the  perfect,  full  morn- 
ing-light of  it  is  very  near. 

[Otiservation.'l  Grace,  and  the  gospel  that 
works  it,  compared  with  the  dark  night  of 
nature,  is  the  day,  and  it  is  often  so  called: 
the  ai)ostle  here  calls  it  so,  Let  us  walk  honest- 
ly as  in  the  day.  But  yet,  that  same  light  of 
the  gospel  shining  to  us  in  the  word,  and 
within  us  by  the  Spirit,  is  but  the  appearance 
or  approaching  of  the  day,  a  certain  pledge 
of  it,  yea,  a  kind  of  beginning  of  it,  telling  us 
that  it  is  near.  It  is  one  and  the  same  light, 
and  where  it  eniers  into  any  soul,  it  makes 
sure  that  eternal  full  day  to  it,  that  it  shall 
not  be  disappointed  of,  more  than  the  dav  can 
po  back,  and  the  sun  fail  to  rise  when  the 
d»wi\  is  begun.    And  this  begun  light  is  still 


j  growing  clearer,  and  lending  to  the  perfert 
day.  Prov.  iv.  18.  And  at  the  first  peep  or 
a])pearance  of  it,  so  much  it  is,  that  t|ie  soul 
is  called  to  awake  and  arise,  and  ])ui  on  day- 
clothes,  and  a])])ly  itself  to  the  actions  of  the 
day  :  and  that  is  the  thing  the  apostle  here 
presses  by  it. 

Oh,  the  blessed  gospel,  revealing  God  in 
Christ,  and  calling  up  sinners  to  communion 
with  him,  dis|)elling  that  black  nigbt  of  igno- 
rance and  accursed  darkness  that  otherwise 
had  never  ended,  but  passed  on  to  an  endless 
night  of  eternal  misery  !  Says  not  Zacharias 
with  good  reason  in  his  song,  that  it  was 
through  the  lender  mercy  of  God  that  this 
dai/sprint;  from  on  hii^h  did  visit  us? 

Nou\  says  the  aposile,  this  day  appearing, 
it  is  lime  to  awake.  And  the  longer  it  is  since 
it  began  to  appear,  and  the  clearer  the  light 
grows,  the  more  high  time  is  it  to  awake  and 
rise,  and  cast  oil"  iiiglit-clothes  and  night- 
works,  works  of  darkness,  and  to  put  on  gar- 
ments, yea,  armor  of  linht.  He  that  is  a 
soldier,  his  garments  are  not  on  till  his  arms 
be  on  and  his  sword  about  him  ;  then  he  is 
ready  :  especially  in  a  time  and  posture  of 
war,  and  the  enemy  lying  nigh,  even  round 
about  him  :  and  this  is  every  Christian's  state 
while  he  is  here.  An  armor  of  light,  not 
only  strong  and  useful,  but  comely  and  grace- 
ful, fit  to  walk  abroad  in,  bright  shining 
armor  :  as  your  old  poets  describe  their 
champions,  dazzling  their  enemies'  eyes. 

And  thus  apparelled,  we  are  to  behavt 
ourselves  suitably,  to  walk  honestly  as  in  the 
day,  not  in  rioting  and  drunkenness.  Vhat 
is  a  night-work,  as  the  apostle  hath  it,  1 
Thess.  V.  7.  To  stagger  and  reel  in  the  streets 
in  daylight,  to  be  drunk  in  the  morning,  is 
most  shameful  :  so  is  that  spirit  of  drunken- 
nessas  unbeseeming  a  Christian  :  to  see  them 
hurrying  and  justling  one  another,  as  drunk 
with  love  of  earthly  things,  and  their  spirits 
by  that  besotted  and  unfitted  for  sjjiritual 
things,  that  they  find  no  pleasure  in  them. 

Chambering  and  loantonness.  All  impure, 
lascivious  conversation,  how  vile  are  these, 
and  unfit  for  the  light !  Even  nature  is 
ashamed  to  be  seen  in  these  things,  in  the 
natural  light  of  the  day  ;  much  more  will 
grace  in  the  spiritual  light  of  the  gospel. 

Sin  fe  and  envy.  As  scuffles  and  hoi  quarrels 
are  most  of  all  unseemly  in  the  streets  in  day- 
light, so,  the  quarrels  and  jarrinas  of  Chris- 
tians  are  very  shameful  before  the  light 
wherein  they  walk.  The  gospel  of  Christ, 
the  grand  doctrine  thereof,  is  meekness  and 
love.  But  oh  !  where  are  they,  those  graces 
that  so  abound  in  the  doctrine  of  Christianity, 
and  yet  are  so  scarce  in  the  livesof  Christians  ? 
Where  are  they  who  look  gladly  on  the  good 
of  others, and  bearevilsand  injuries  from  tbeiF 
neighbors  patiently, and  repay  evil  with  good? 
Thus  it  ought  to  be  :  but,  on  the  contrary,  bow 
ready  are  the  most  to  part  on  the  least  occa- 
sions, to  bile  and  snarl  at  each  other  I  There 
is  more  still  of  the  spirit  of  the  dragon,  thau 


Rom.  xiii.  11—14.] 


TIME  TO  AWAKE. 


521 


of  the  dove.  My  brethren,  remember  and 
consider,  that  the  gospel-light  shines  among 
us,  and  that  more  clearly  than  in  former  times, 
and  more  clearly  than  to  most  people  in  the 
world  in  these  times  ;  and  do  not  outface  and 
affront  the  blessed  light  with  the  accursed 
works  of  darkness.  You  might  have  been 
profane  in  former  times,  or  in  some  other 
place,  at  a  cheaper  rale. 

Know,  that  if  this  glorious  light  do  not 
break  off  your  course  of  sin,  it  will  increase 
your  load  of  judgment.  The  heaviest  of  all 
condemnations,  is  to  live  in  darkness,  and  to 
live  and  die  in  it,  in  the  midst  of  light. 
Among  all  your  desperate  accursed  wishes, 
this  shall  be  one,  and  a  chief  one,  that  either 
the  Son  of  God  had  never  come  into  the  world, 
or  that  you  had  never  heard  of  him. 

Much  of  what  we  aim  at,  were  gained,  if 
Christians  could  be  brought  to  consider  who 
ihey  are,  and  to  walk  like  themselves  :  it 
would  raise  them  above  the  base  pleasures 
of  sin,  and  the  snares  of  the  world.  The  way 
of  life  is  on  hi:;h  In  the  just :  there  is  a  holy 
loftiness,  a  disdain  of  all  impure  sordid  ways. 
It  is  said  of  Jehoshaphat,  that  his  heart  was 
lift  up  in  the  ways  of  the  Lord.  2  Chron. 
xvii.  6.  As  a  vain,  self-conceited  lifiing  up 
of  the  heart  is  the  great  enemy  of  our  welfare 
(as  it  is  written  of  another,  even  of  a  good 
king,  Hezekiah,  thai  his  heart  was  lift  up, 
therefore  was  wrath  upon  him)  ;  so  there  is  a 
happy  exaltation  of  the  heart,  when  it  is  rais- 
ed in  God,  to  despise  all  communion  with  the 
unholy,  and  the  unholy  ways  of  the  world. 
This,  my  brethren,  is  that  which  I  would 
were  wrought  in  you  by  the  consideration  of 
our  holy  calling.  We  are  cal/ed  to  holiness, 
and  not  to  unc'eanness.  —  Ye  are  the  children 
of  the  li  ir/u  and  of  the  day.  1  Thess.  iv.  7  ; 
V.  5.  Base  night  ways,  such  as  can  not  endure 
the  light,  do  not  become  you.  0  that  come- 
liness wiiich  the  saints  should  study,  that 
decorum  which  ihey  should  keep  in  all  their 
Ways,  cvrxi;!  ■"'■li,  one  action  like  another,  and 
all  like  Christ,  living  as  in  the  light.  They 
ihat  converse  with  the  best  company,  such 
persons  areobliged  to  more  decency  in  api)arel. 
We  live  in  the  light,  in  the  company  of  angels 
of  God,  and  Jesus  Christ;  and  therefore  should 
not  act  anything  that  is  low  or  mean,  unbe-  j 
seeming  the  rank  we  keep,  and  the  presence  I 
of  those  with  whom  we  associate.  When  i 
the  king  passes  through  the  country  in  prog-  j 
ress,  they  wlio  aee  him  seldom,  being  either  j 
to  attend  him  in  his  way,  or  to  receive  him 
into  their  houses,  will  labor  to  have  all  things 
in  the  best  order  they  can  for  the  time  ;  but 
tiiey  that  live  at  court,  and  are  daily  in  the 
king's  presence,  are  constantly  courtlike  in 
their  habit  and  carriage,  and  all  about  them. 
0  followers  of  the  Lamb,  let  your  'garments 
be  always  u-hite  ;  yea,  let  him  be  your  gar- [ 
ment :  clothe  yourselves  with  himself;  have 
your  robes  made  of  liis  spotless  fleece. 

Put  OH  thi'  Lord  Jesus.    No  resemblance 
IS  mor«  usual  than  that  of  people's  customs  to  i 
66 


their  clothes,  their  habitudes  to  their  habits. 
This  the  apostle  used  in  the  foregoing  words, 
Put  on  the  [furniture,  or]  armor  of  light 
havmg  cast  off  the  works  of  darkness,  as 
clothes  of  darkness,  night-clothes.  And  the 
word,  loalkmg  decently,  has  something  of  the 
same  resemblance  contained  in  it.  And  here 
we  have  the  proper  beauty  and  ornament  of 
Christians,  even  the  Lord  Jesus,  recommenc- 
ed to  them  under  the  same  notion,  Pz<<  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Him  we  put  on  by  faith, 
and  are  clothed  with  him  as  our  righteous- 
ness. We  come  unto  our  Father  in  our  Elder 
Brother's  perfumed  garments,  and  so  obtain 
the  blessing  which  he,  in  a  manner,  was 
stripped  of  for  our  sakes.  He  did  undergo  the 
curse,  and  was  made  a  curse  for  our  sakes : 
so  the  apostle  speaks  of  him,  Gal.  iii.  13.  We 
put  him  on,  as  the  Lord  our  righteousness, 
and  are  made  tht  ^iirhteousness  of  God  in  him. 
This  investitute  is  first,  when  our  persons  are 
made  acceptable,  and  we  come  into  court. 
But  there  is  another  putting  of  him  on,  in  the 
conformity  of  holiness,  which  ahvays  accom- 
panies the  former  ;  and  that  is  it  which  is 
here  meant.  And  this  I  declare  unto  you, 
that  whosoever  does  not  thus  put  him  on, 
shall  find  themstives  deceived  in  the  other, 
if  they  imagine  it  belongs  to  them. 

They  who  are  the  sons  of  God,  and  have 
the  hope  of  inheriting  with  Christ,  do  really 
become  like  him,  are  even  heirs  in  some 
degree  now ;  and  that  blessed  expectation 
they  have,  is  to  be  fully  like  him.  1  John 
iii.  3.  When  he  appears,  v;c  shall  be  like  him, 
saith  the  apostle.  And  in  the  meanwhile, 
they  are  endeavoring  to  be  so,  and  somewhat 
attaining  it ;  as  he  adds.  Every  one  that  hath 
this  hope,  purifieth  himself,  as  he  is  pure.  He 
is  the  only  begotten  Son,  and  we  are  so  restor- 
ed in  him  to  the  dignity  of  sons,  that  withal 
we  are  really  changed  into  his  likeness.  He 
is  the  image  of  the  Father  that  is  renewed 
upon  us. 

It  is  the  substance  of  religion,  to  be  like 
him  whom  we  worship.*  Man's  end  and 
perfection  is  likeness  to  God.  But  oh,  the 
distance,  the  uniy<eness,  yea,  the  contrariety, 
that  is  fallen  upon  our  nature  !  The  carnal 
mind  is  cninitt/  to  Gad  :  the  soul  is,  as  it  were, 
become  flesh,  and  so  most  unsuitable  to  the 
Father  of  Spirits  ;  it  is  become  like  the  beast 
that  perishes.  Now,  to  repair  and  raise  us, 
this  was  the  course  taken  :  we  could  not  rise 
up  to  God,  he  came  down  to  us,  yea  into  us, 
to  raise  and  draw  us  up  again  to  him.  He 
became  like  us,  that  we  might  become  like 
him.  God  first  put  on  man,  that  man  might 
put  on  God.  Putting  on  the  Lord  Jesus,  we 
I)Ut  on  man  ;  but  that  man  is  God,  and  so,  in 
putting  on  man,  we  [)ut  on  God.  Thus,  put- 
ting on  Christ,  we  put  on  all  grace:  we  dc 
this,  not  only  by  studying  him  as  our  copy 
and  example,  but  by  real  participation  of  hia 
Spirit :  and  that,  so  as  that  daily  the  likeness 
is  growing,  while  we  are  carried  by  that 
•  Suinma  religiunis  imilari  quern  colis. 


TIME  TO  AWAKE- 


[Ser.  XIX. 


Spirit  to  s;udy  his  example,  and  eiiat)led  in 
siinie  measure  to  cimfbrni  to  it ;  so  that  these 
two  grow  logeilier,  i;roici7ig  m  grace,  and  in 
the  kiioicltilat  of  our  Lord  and  Savior  Jesris 
Christ.  He  is  tiie  armor  of  lis;hl  before 
spoken  of:  all  our  ornaineiit  and  safety  is  in 
bim.  Some  i)ietures  of  <rreat  persons  you  have 
seen,  with  arms  and  robes  on  at  once:  thus 
we,  when  eloiiied  with  Christ,  have  our  arms 
and  robes  both  on  at  once,  yea,  both  in  one, 
for  lie  is  both.  So  tliis  is  the  ^reat  study  of 
a  Chrisiian,  to  eye  and  read  Ciirisi  much,  and, 
by  looking  on  him,  to  become  more  and  more 
like  hini,  making  tiie  impression  dee])er  by 
each  day's  meditation  and  beh(jlding  of  him. 
His  Spirit  in  us,  and  that  love  his  Spirit  works, 
make  ihe  work  easy,  as  sympathies  do.  And 
still  the  more  the  change  is  wrought,  it  be- 
comes still  the  more  easy  to  work  it.  This 
is  excellently  described  by  this  apostle,  2  Co- 
rinthians iii.  18. 

Now  we  see  our  business:  oh  that  we  had 
hearts  to  it !  It  is  high,  it  is  sweet,  to  he 
growing  more  and  more  Christ-like  every 
day.  What  is  the  purchase  or  conquest  of 
kingdoms  to  this?  Oh,  what  are  we  doing, 
who  mind  not  this  more?  Even  they  whose 
projier  work  it  is,  how  remfss  are  they  in  it, 
and  what  small  progress  do  they  make  !  Are 
we  less  for  the  world  and  ourselves,  and 
more  for  God,  this  year  than  the  former  ? — 
more  meek  and  gentle,  abler  to  bear  wrongs, 
and  to  do  good  for  them,  more  holy  and  spir- 
itual in  our  thoughts  and  ways,  more  abun- 
dant and  fervent  in  prayer  ?  I  know  there 
will  be  times  of  deadness,  and  winter  sea- 
sous,  even  in  the  souls  of  living  Christians; 
but  it  is  not  always  so,  it  will  come  about 
yet ;  so  that,  take  the  whole  course  of  a 
Christian  tcjgeiher,  he  is  advancing,  putting 
on  still  more  of  Christ,  and  living  more  in 
him.  There  is  a  closer  union  between  the 
soul  and  this  its  spiritual  clothing,  than  be- 
tween the  body  and  its  garments:  that  doth 
import  a  transformation  into  Christ,  put  on 
as  a  new  life,  or  a  new  self.  The  Christian 
by  faiih  doth  this:  he  puts  off  himself,  old 
carnal  self,  and  instead  thereof,  puts  on  Jesus 
Christ,  and  thenceforward  liaih  no  more  re- 
gard of  that  old  self,  than  of  old  cast  clothes, 
hut  is  all  for  Christ,  joys  in  nothing  else. 
This  is  a  mystery  which  can  not  be  under- 
Stood  but  by  partaking  of  it. 

My  brethren,  learn  to  have  these  thoughts 
frequent  and  occurrent  with  you  on  all  occa- 
sions. Think,  when  about  anything,  how 
would  Christ  behave  himself  in  this?  Even 
to  let  me  endeavor. 

You  will  possibly  say,  they  that  speak 
thus,  and  advise  thus,  do  not  do  thus.  Oh, 
that  that  were  not  too  true  I  Yet  there  be 
some  that  be  sincere  in  it,  and  although  it  be 
but  little  that  is  attained,  yet  the  very  aim  is 
excellent,  and  somewhat  there  is  that  is  done 
by  it.  It  is  better  to  have  such  thoughts  and 
dtsires,  than  altogether  to  give  it  up  ;  and 
ihe  very  desire,  being  serious  and  sincere, 


does  so  much  change  the  habitude  and  i  sag 
of  the  soul  and  life,  that  it  is  not  to  be  des- 
pised. 

Now  follows.  And  make  no  provision  for  the 
flesh,  to  fulfil  the  Insls  thereof  And  it  will 
follow  necessarily.  We  hear  much  to  little 
purpose.  Oh,  to  have  the  heart  touchtd  by 
the  Sjiirit  with  such  a  word  as  is  here  !  It 
would  untie  it  from  all  these  things.  These 
are  the  words,  the  very  reading  of  which 
wrought  so  with  Augustine,  that,  of  a  licen- 
tious young  man,  he  turned  a  holy  faithful 
servant  of  Jesus  Christ.  While  you  were 
without  Christ,  you  had  no  higher  nor  other 
business  to  do,  than  to  attend  and  serve  the 
fiesh  ;  but  once  having  put  him  on,  you  are 
other  men,  and  other  manners  do  become 
you.  ANa  cetas  a/ios  mores  poxlri/at.  , 
This  forbids  not  eating,  and  drinking,  and 
clothing,  and  providing  for  these,  nor  decen- 
cy and  comeliness  in  them.  The  putting  on 
of  Christ  does  not  bar  the  sober  use  ol' I  hem  ; 
yea,  the  moderate  i)roviding  for  the  necessi- 
ties of  the  flesh,  while  thou  art  tied  to  dwell 
in  it,  that  may  be  done  in  such  a  way  as  shall 
be  a  part  cf  thy  obedience  and  service  to 
God.  But  to  lay  in  provision  for  the  lusts 
of  it,  is  to  Victual  and  furnish  his  enemy  and 
thine  own  :  for  the  lusts  of  the  fesh  do  strive 
against  God's  Spirit,  and  war  against  thy 
soul.    Gal.  V.  17  ;  1  Pet.  ii.  11. 

This  was  the  quarrel  between  God  and  his 
own  people  in  the  wilderness.    Bread  for 
their  necessities,  he  gave  them,  but  they  re- 
quired meat  for  their  lusts  (which  should 
rather  have  been  starved  to  death  than  fed), 
and  many  of  them  fell  in  the  quarrel.  Ht 
gave  them  their  desire,  but  gave  them  a 
plague  with  it,  and  they  died  with  the  meat 
between  their  teeth.   Many  who  seem  to  fol- 
low God,  and  to  have  put  on  Christ,  yet  con- 
tinuing in  league  with  their  lusts,  and  pro- 
viding for  them,  they  are  permitted  awhile  so 
to  do,  and  are  not  withheld  from  their  desire, 
and  seem  to  prosper  in  the  business  ;  but 
though  not  so  sudden  and  sensible  as  that  of 
the  Israelites,  there  is  no  less  certain  a  curse 
joined  with  all  they  purchase  and  provide  for 
'  that  unhallowed  use.    It  is  certainly  the  pos- 
ture and  employment  of  most  of  us,  even 
who  are  called  Christians,  to  be  purveyors 
for  the  flesh,  even  for  the  lusts  of  it  {ad  su- 
I  ■pervacuum  sudare)  ;  these  lusts  corn])reliend- 
ing  all  sensual,  and  all  worldly,  fleshly,  self- 
pleasing  projects.    Even  some  things  that 
seem  a  little  more  decent  and  refined  come 
j  und(.'r  this  account.    What  are  men  cora- 
1  monly  doing  but  projecting  and  laboring,  be- 
'  yond  necessity,  for  fuller  and  finer  provision 
j  for  back  and  belli/,  and  to  feed  their  [)ride,  and 
;  raise  themselves  and  theirs  somewhat  abo^e 
I  the  condition  of  others  about  them  ?  And 
where  men's  interests  meet  in  the  teeth,  and 
cross  each  other,  there  arise  heart-burnings 
and  debates,  and  an  evil  eye  one  against  an- 
[  other,  even  on  fancied  prejudice,  where  there 
,  is  nothing  i>ut  crossing  a  iiuinor.    So  the 


Psalm  cvn.  43.] 


TIME  TO  AWAKE. 


523 


grand  idol  is  their  own  will,  that  must  be 
provided  for  and  served  in  all  things,  that 
takes  them  up  early  and  late,  how  they  may 
be  at  ease,  and  pleased,  and  esteemed,  and 
honored.  This  is  the  makinff  provisio/t  for 
the  fesh  and  its  lusts,  and  from  this  are  they 
all  called  who  have  put  on  Christ  ;  not  to  a 
hard,  mtaii,  unpleasant  life,  instead  of  that 
other,  but  to  a  lar  more  high  and  more  truly 
pleasant  life,  that  disgraces  all  those  their 
former  pursuits  which  they  thought  so  gay 
while  they  knew  no  better.  There  is  a  tran- 
scendent sweetness  in  Christ,  that  puts  the 
flesh  out  of  credit.  Put  on  Christ,  thy  robe 
royal,  and  make  no  provision  for  the  fesh; 
surely  thou  wilt  not  then  go  and  turmoil  in 
the  kitchen.  A  soul  clothed  with  Christ, 
stooping  to  any  sinful  delight,  or  an  ardent 
pursuit  of  anything  earthly,  though  lawful, 
doth  wonderfully  degrade  itself  Methinks 
t  is  as  a  king's  son  in  his  jjrincely  apparel, 
playing  the  scullion,  sitting  down  to  turn  the 
spits.  A  soul  living  in  Christ  indeed,  hath 
no  vacancy  for  the  superfluous,  luxurious  de- 
mands of  flesh,  yea,  supplies  the  very  neces- 
sities of  it  with  a  kind  of  regret.  A  necessi- 
talibus  meis  libera  me,  Doininc,  said  one  :  De- 
liver me,  Lord,  from  my  necessities. 

Oh,  raise  up  your  spirits,  you  that  pretend 
to  anything  in  Christ;  delight  in  him,  and 
let  his  love  satisfy  you  at  all  times.  What 
need  you  go  a  begging  elsewhere  ?  All  you 
Would  add,  makes  you  the  poorer,  abates  so 
much  of  your  enjoyment  of  him  ;  and  what 
can  (■oinpcnsaie  ihat?  Put  on  the  Lord  Je- 
$U3,  and  then  view  yourselves,  and  see  if  you 
be  fit  to  be  the  slaves  of  fiesh  and  earth. 

These  two,  Put  on  the  Lord  Jesus,  and 
Make  no  provision,  are  directly  the  represen- 
tation of  the  (  hurch,  Apoc.  xii.  A  woman 
clothed  with  the  sun,  and  having  tliQ  moon 
under  her  feet,  needed  borrow  no  beauty  from 
it,  or  anything  under  it.  She  left  the  scarlet, 
and  the  purple,  and  the  gold,  to  the  harlot 
after  spoken  of,  for  her  dressing. 

The  service  of  the  flesh  is  a  work  the 
Christian  can  not  fold  to,  till  he  forgets  what 
clothes  he  has  on.  This  is  all,  my  brethren. 
Oh  that  we  could  be  once  persuaded  to  put 
on  Christ,  and  then  resolve  and  remember  to 
do  nothing  unbeseeming  that  attire  ! 


SERMON  XX. 

OBSEIiVATlON  OF  FilOVIDENCE. 

Psalm  cvii.  43. 

\Wio  is  wisp,  and  will  obscrvo  those  things, even  they 
shall  undrrstand  the  loving-Kindn'  ss  of  the  Lord. 

Most  men  live  in  a  brutal  sensitive  jile, 
live  not  so  much  as  the  life  of  reason  ;  but 
far  fewer  the  Divine  life  of  faith,  which  is 
farther  above  common  reason  than  thai  is 
above  sense.    The  spiritual  light  of  grace  is 


]  that  which  makes  day  in  t  le  soul  :  all  other 
wisdom  is  but  night-light.  Then  I  satv  thai 
wisdom  cxcellelh  folly,  as  far  as  light  excel- 
leth  darkness.  Eccl.  ii.  13.  This  higher  sort 
of  knowledge  is  that  the  prophet  speaks  of. 

:  Having  discoursed  excellently  through  the 
Psalm  of  the  wisdom,  power,  and  coodness 
of  God,  so  legible  in  his  providence  toward 
men,  and  often  called  up  the  dull  minds  of 
men  to  consider  these  his  works,  and  bloss 
him  for  them,  he  closes  with  this  applaud- 
ment  of  tlieir  happiness  that  truly  do  so, 
Whoso  is  wise,  <!fC. 

They  that  spake  it  knew  not  how  true 
their  speech  is,  who  have  called  the  world  a 
nest  of  fools.    It  is  true,  there  is  very  little 

i  even  of  natural  clearness  of  judgment  among 
men,  but  suiely  far  less  of  this  true  spiritual 
wisdom.  So  that  if  we  read  this  as  a  ques- 
tion, M  hoso  is  wise  ? — Oh,  how  few  are 
there!  And  yet,  most  imagine  they  are; 
few  are  convinced  they  are  fools,  and  that  is 
the  heiffht  of  their  folly.  That  word  is  most 
true.  Job  xi.  12  ;  Vai)i  man  irould  he  wise, 
tliouffh  he  be  born  as  the  wild  ass^s  colt.  In 
youth,  he  runs  wild,  unbroken,  and  unuseful  ; 
and  in  fuller  age,  hath  but  a  brutish,  slavish 
life,  yokes  in  with  beasts  in  the  satne  kind  of 
labor;  or  in  little  better;  turmoiling  and 
drudging  to  serve  his  base  lusts,  his  gain,  his 
pleasure,  and  forgets  quite  what  high  condi- 
tion the  soul  that  sjjarkles  within  him  is  born 
to,  and  made  capable  of.  In  a  word,  he 
knows  not  God.  That  is  both  his  folly  and 
his  misery.  How  much  of  life  [lasscs  ere 
we  consider  what  we  live  for  I  And  though 
all  applied,  how  incapable  are  ii  great  many 
to  know  anything!  Inter  ho/nincs  (/ilid  ho- 
mine  rarius  I  Among  men  what  mcjre  rare 
than  man.  a  truly  rational  benig  ?  To  this 
purpose  there  is  a  notable  word,. Job  xi.  8,  9. 

Now,  to  stir  up  your  desires  and  endeavors 
after  this  wisdom,  consider  that  it  is  the 
proper  excellency  of  the  rational  nature,  the 
true  elevation  of  hutnan  nature,  to  be  wise. 
And  they  are  not  such,  and  know  somewhat 
of  their  (jwn  defect,  yet  would  willingly  jiass 
for  such,  and  had  rather  be  accounted  un- 
comely, yea,  even  dishonest,  than  unwise 
(call  a  man  anything  rather  than  a  fool)  ;  but 
yet,  if  they  could,  would  rather  have  the 
thing  than  the  reputation  of  it,  and  desire 
really  to  be  wise  if  it  were  in  their  p(jwer. 

Now  it  were  good  to  work  on  this  tiesign 
within  us,  and  to  have  it  drawn  into  the  right 
chaimcl.  Would  you  be  wise  ?  Then,  seek 
true  wisdom.  What  most  men  seek  and  ad- 
mire in  themselves  and  others  are  but  false 
shadows  and  appearances  of  wisdoHi  ;  the 
knowledgf^  either  of  base,  low  things,  as  to 

I  scrape  and  gather  together,  or  else  of  vain, 

I  unprofitable  things,  and  such  knowledge  as 

,  is  for  the  most  part  but  imaginary.  For  most 
things  in  state  affairs  lake  another  bias  and 

j  course,  are  not  so  much  modelled  by  wit,  as 
mostmen  imag  ne.  And  forthesecretsof nature 

I  we  have  little  certain  knowledge  of  them 


b24 


OBSERVATION  OF  PROVIDENCE. 


[Ser.  XX 


How  s.iort  is  our  life  to  attain  any  knowlediie ! 
Tliat  is  an  exc  ellent  wonl.  Job  viii.  8.  But 
the  knowledge  here  set  before  us,  is  the  best 
kind  of  knowledge,  that  of  the  highest 
things,  Divine  things.  1  say  the  best  kind 
of  knowledge  of  ihem,  for  there  are  notions 
even  of  these  tilings,  ihat  iiave  little  in 
them;  either  curious,  fruitless  disputations 
of  such  points  as  are  most  removed  both 
from  our  notice  and  our  use,  or  a  useless 
knowledge  of  useful  things.  But  this  is  a 
■well-regulated  and  surc-l'ootcd  knowledge  of 
Divine  things,  as  God  himself  hath  revealed 
them. 

This  wisdom  descends  from  above  ;  there- 
fore for  the  attainment  oi'it,  these  two  things 
are  necessary  :  1st,  To  know  that  we  want 
it,  sensibly  and  feelingly  to  know  this,  that 
we  know  nothing  of  the  things  of  God.  Mul- 
ti  ad  sapienliam  jiervenirenl ,  nisi  se  jarrijani 
pervemsxe  arbitrarcntur :  Many  men  ivotild 
have  attained  to  icisdn/n,  if  they  had  not  fan- 
cied or  imagined  that  they  had  already  at- 
tained it.  I  speak  not  now  of  the  lowest 
sort,  the  grossly,  the  brutishly  ignorant  even 
t-;  the  letter  of  Divine  truths,  but  such  as 
can  give  themselves  or  others,  if  put  to  it,  a 
good  account  of  the  principles  of  laith  and 
holiness,  have  read  and  heard  much,  and 
possibly  learned  and  retained  not  a  little  that 
way,  yet  still  are  but  ignorants.  strangers  lo 
this  heavenly  wisdom.  Therefore  men  must 
first  know  this,  that  they  must  go  anew  to 
school  again,  and  become  as  little  children. 
Wisdom  invites  no  other.  Whoso  is  simp/e, 
let  him  turn  in  hither.  Prov.  ix.  4.  The 
strange  woman,  and  so,  all  the  enticements 
to  sin,  they  invite  the  same  persons  (ver.  16), 
but  to  a  directly  opposite  end  :  she  calls  the 
fools  to  befool  ihem.to  drow.n  them  in  folly 
and  wretchedness;  but  wisdom  calls  them, 
to  unbefool  them,  to  recover  them  and  teach 
them  the  way  of  life. 

2dly.  Being  convinced  and  sensible  of  the 
want  of  it,  to  use  the  right  way  to  attain  it, 
to  give  all  diligent  attendance  on  the  word 
and  ordinances  of  God,  to  desire  it  of  him. 
Desire  is  all :  if  you  desire  much,  you  shall 
have  much.  Vent  thy  desire  this  way  heav- 
enward, whence  this  wisdom  descends.  This 
light  springs  from  on  high.  Man  can  not 
raise  himself  to  it  without  another.  James 
i.  5.  If  any  man  lack  wisdom — if  he  is  but 
once  sensible  of  that,  why  then  the  sweetest, 
easiest  way  to  attain  ii  than  can  be  desired, 
is  pointed  out — let  him  ask  it  of  God,  who 
givelh  lihcrully,  and  upbrnideth  not  ;  does 
neither  harshly  refuse,  nor  upbraidingly  give 
it,  but  delights  to  give  it  to  them  that  ask  it, 
even  his  own  Holy  Spirit,  the  spring  of  this 
wisdom,  as  he  hath  promised. 

We  are  all  U>o  little  in  this  humble  seek- 
ing and  begging  of  this  Divine  knowledge, 
and  that  is  the  cause  we  are  so  shallow  and 
small  proficients.  Jf  thou  cry,  and  lift  up 
thy  voice  for  understanding,  if  thou  search 
tor  It  as  for  hid  treasures.   Prov.  ii.  3.  Sit 


I  down  upon  thy  knees  and  dig  for  it ;  tnai  ii 
;  the  best  posture  to  fall  right  upon  the  golden 
vein  and  go  deepest  to  know  the  mind  ol 
God,  in  searching  the  Scriptures,  to  be  di- 
rected and  regulated  in  his  ways,  to  be  made 
skilful  in  ways  of  honoring  him,  and  doing 
I  him  service.  This  neither  men  nor  angels 
can  teach  him,  but  God  alone.  For  the  Lord 
givelh  wisdom.  Ver.  C. 

Of  this  wisdom  we  have  liere  the  character 
and  the  privilege. 

I.  The  character  :  Whoso  inll  observe  these 
things.  That  looks  back  to  the  doctrine  of 
tlie  psalmist,  which  is  very  divinely  sweet. 
He  had  been  extolling  the  goodness  of  God  in 
general,  in  his  dealings  with  men,  and  in- 
stancing, in  divers  occurrcnt  and  remarkable 
particuTars,  the  fitness  and  mildness  of  his 
chastisements,  the  seasonabieness  and  sweet- 
ness of  his  deliverances,  as  correcting  us  for 
our  greater  good,  and  relieving  us  in  our  great- 
est need,  when  we  are  nearest  despairing  of 
relief.  This  is  exemplified  in  travellers  and 
prisoners,  in  sick  men  and  seamen,  and  in  the 
various  disposal  of  the  state  of  all  sons  of 
persons,  the  highest  and  the  meanest ;  and 
the  repeated  sweet  burden  of  the  song  is  O 
that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his  go^u 
ness,  and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the  chiU 
dren  of  men  .'  And  in  the  end,  he  declares 
the  result  of  all,  ver.  42,  the  joy  of  the  godly, 
the  shame  and  silencing  of  the  wicked,  who 
usually  either  mistake,  or  slight,  or  despise 
the  providence  of  God  in  the  rule  of  human 
affairs,  who  readily  speak  big  their  own 
thoughts,  which  are  vain,  promising  them- 
selves continual  success.  In  the  end  he  shall 
clear  himself,  and  gladden  the  souls  of  his 
peojile,  and  clothe  his  enemies  with  shame. 
Wait  a  while,  and  thus  it  shall  be  ;  they  shall 
change  places.  He  pours  contempt  upon 
princes,  and  sets  the  poor  on  high  from  afflic- 
tion, and  so  rights  himself  and  them  that 
wait  on  him.  Then  the  righteous  shall  see  it 
and  rejoice,  and  all  niiquily  shall  slop  her 
mouth.  And  it  is  a  great  point  of  true  wis- 
dom, rightly  to  observe  these  things. 

This  observing  hath  in  it,  first,  a  believing 
notice  of  these  things,  to  take  such  instances' 
aright,  when  they  meet  our  eye,  to  know 
these  things  to  be  indeed  the  Lord's  doings  : 
and  so,  when  we  are  in  any  present  strait,  to 
believe,  accordingly,  the  same  inspection  of 
his  eye,  and  secret  conduct  of  his  hand,  to  bt 
in  all.  Now  it  is  a  great  point  to  have  the 
heart  established  in  these  persuasions.  We 
are  generally  much  defective  in  this,  and 
they  most  who  least  suspect  themselves  of 
it.  But  withal,  the  observing  or  keeping  of 
these  things  (so  the  word  is),  this  firm  be- 
lieving, liaih  in  it  these  two  following  on  it, 
and  flowing  from  it,  serious  contemplation  and 
suitable  action. 

1.  To  observe  these  things,  is  often  to  turn 
our  eye  to  the  view  of  these  things,  and  to 
keep  it  on  them,  so  as  to  have  our  hearts 
warmed  with  them,  to  be  deeply  taken  with 


/■«ALM  cvii.  43.] 


OBSERVATION  OF  PROVIDENCE. 


525 


wonder  and  love.  But  alas  !  our  souls  are 
drowned  in  flesh,  dragged  down  from  thinus 
that  become  them,  and  are  worthy  of  them, 
to  drudge  and  weary  themselves  in  the  mire 
and  clay.  How  few  are  there  who  make  it  a 
great  part  of  their  daily  business  to  behold 
G-od  in  his  works  and  ways  wiih  themselves 
and  others  !  Some,  in  respect  of  others,  are 
called  great  spirits  ;  but  oh,  what  are  they  ? 
What  a  poor  greatness  is  it  to  project,  for  a 
great  estate,  or  great  places  and  titles,  or  to 
conceive  great  revenges  of  little  wrongs  ! 
There  is  something,  even  in  nature,  of  great- 
ness of  spirit,  very  far  beyond  the  bastard, 
false  character  that  most  take  of  it,  and  that 
is  above  most  things  others  imagine  great, 
and  despise  them.  But  true  greatness  is  this, 
to  have  a  mind  much  taken  up  with  the 
greatness  of  God,  admiring  and  adoring  him, 
and  exciting  others  to  do  so  ;  grieved,  and  ho- 
lily  angry,  that  men  regard  him  so  little, 
breathing  forth  such  wishes  as  these  of  the 
psalmist,  both  to  express  their  own  thoughts, 
and  to  awake  sleejiing  besotted  men  about 
them  :  O  thai  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for 
his  goodness,  &c.  They  could  wish  a  voice 
that  could  reach  many  thousands  ;  and  if  they 
had  one  audible  to  all  the  world,  would  use  it 
no  otherwise  than  to  be  precentors  of  the 
praises  of  God,  to  call  up  and  begin  the  song, 
O  that  men  would  praise,  &c. 

Consider  yourselves,  my  brethren,  and  trace 
yourselves  into  your  own  hearts,  whether  of- 
ten in  the  day  your  thoughts  run  this  way. 
finding  the  meditation  of  God  sweet  to  you, 
or  whether  they  do  not  run  out  much  more  to 
vain  things,  anil  are  seldom  here:  eitiier  hur- 
ried and  busied  in  a  surcharge  of  affairs,  or,  if 
vacant,  yet  spinning  themselves  out  in  frothy, 
foolish  fancies,  that  you  would  be  ashamed  to 
look  back  upon.  You  might  entertain  Divine 
and  heavenly  thoughts  even  whiie  about  your 
earthly  employments  and  refreshments  ;  but 
this  is  little  known  and  little  sought  after. 
Make  it  your  business  to  learn  more  of  this 
wisdom.  Call  in  your  hearts,  commune  often 
with  yourselves  and  with  God  :  be  less  abroad, 
and  more  within,  and  more  above.  It  is  by 
far  the  sweel«st  life.  Beg  of  God  to  wind  up 
your  hearts,  when  vou  find  them  heavy  and 
dull,  that  they  follow  you  slowly  in  this,  and 
need  much  pulling  and  hauling  from  your 
hand  :  a  l(jucli  from  his  hand  will  make  them 
mount  up  easily  and  nimbly.  Oh  !  seek  his 
drawing  :  Drau)  me,  I  will  run  after  thee. 
And  when  you  meet  together,  let  this  be  your 
business,  to  speak  of  Him  who  alone  is  to  be 
exalted,  who  doth  and  disposeth  all  as  he 
pleases.  Say  to  friends,  and  kindred,  and 
neighbors,  "  Oh,  how  great  and  how  gracious 
a  God  have  we  I  Oh,  that  we  could  bless 
him  !" 

2.  To  keep  these  things  is  to  walk  accord- 
ing to  the  firm  belief  and  frequent  thoughts 
of  them  ;  to  fear  him,  and  to  walk  humbly 
and  warily,  because  our  follies  draw  on  his 
rods,  and  to  study  to  please  hirn,  and  no  mat- 


I  ter  who  be  displeased  ;  and  when  he  corrects, 
to  fall  down  humbly  under  his  hand,  whc 
I  hath  our  sickness  and  health,  our  life  and 
death,  and  all  that  concerns  us,  in  his  abso- 
I  lute  power.  If  anything  advance  or  advan- 
tage us  before  others,  endeavor  to  be  the 
more  lowly  and  serviceable  to  him.  If  in  a 
low  condition,  still  bles^and  reverence  him, 
for  his  presence  will  turn  the  meanest  cot- 
tage, yea,  the  darkest  dungeon,  into  a  palace. 

The  chief  delight  of  the  saints  is,  to  offer 
praises  to  God,  to  gather  them  in  from  all  his 
works,  to  send  up  to  him.  And  his  chief  de- 
light in  all  his  works  is  to  receive  these 
praises  of  them  from  their  hands:  they  arti* 
ulate  them,  make  a  reasonable  sacrifice  of 
them.  Psalm  cxlv.  10  :  All  thy  works  shall 
praise  thee,  and  thy  saints  shall  bless  thee. 
We  are  called  to  this  high  work,  yet  lie  be- 
hind, and  most  unworthily  and  foolishly  de- 
base ourselves  in  other  things.  But  they  that 
are  wise,  if  there  be  any,  will  mind  this,  will 
not  let  the  Lord's  marvellous  and  gracious 
doings  pass  without  notice. 

If.  The  privilege  of  this  wisdona.  It  is  a 
high  proof  of  his  love  to  us,  that  he  loves  to 
be  seen  working  by  us,  and  sloops  to  take  our 
acclamations  and  approbation,  hath  such  re- 
gard to  them,  and  rewards  them  so  richly, 
even  thus:  Whoso  is  wise,  and  will  observe 
these  thjngs,  they  shall  understand  the  loving 
kindness  of  the  Lord.  Observe,  They  that  are 
wise,  and  observe,  shall  understand  further. 
To  him  that  hath,  shall  he  given  ;  to  him  that 
usefully  hath.  That  is  to  nave,  and  so  it  is 
there  meant :  to  him  that  improves  it  to  his 
advantage  who  gave  it.  The  greatest  difli- 
culty  is  to  begin :  as  one  said  of  his  growing 
rich,  that  "  He  came  hardly  by  a  little  riches, 
and  easily  by  great  riches."  Having  once 
got  a  stock,  he  grew  rich  apace.  So  once 
taking,  be  it  but  the  first  lessons  of  this  wis- 
dom, learning  these  well,  shall  facilitate  thy 
knowledge  exceedingly.  The  wise  increaseth 
learning.  Prov.  i.  5.  Wouldst  thou  but  re- 
ceive and  hearken  to  the  easiest  things  rep- 
resented by  God,  these  would  enlighten  and 
enlarge  thy  soul  to  receive  more  ;  especially, 
walking  by  the  light  thou  hast,  be  it  ever  so 
little,  that  invites  and  draws  in  more.  Be 
diligent  in  the  practice  of  wiiat  you  know,  if 
you  would  know  more.  Believe  it,  that  is 
the  way  to  grow.  Whoso  observes,  keeps 
these  things,  acts  according  to  the  knowledge 
of  them  fas  John  vii.  17),  he  shall  understand, 
shall  understand  it  by  finding  it.  'V hey  shall 
understand  it  in  themselves  (the  word  is  in 
the  reciprocal  mood,  llilhpaliel)  ;  it  shall  be 
particularly  and  effectually  sh(jwn  unto  them 
they  shall  experience  it,  and  so  understand  it, 
and  that  is  the  only  lively  understanding  of 
it.  Men  may  hear,  yea,  deliver  large  dis- 
courses of  it,  and  yet  not  understand  tne  thing 
Happy  are  they  to  whom  this  is  given  !  So- 
lus docel  qui  dat,  et  discit  qui  rreipit :  He 
alone  teaches  who  gives,  and  he  learns  who 
receives. 


526 


OBSERVATION  OF  PROVIDENCE. 


[Ser.  XX 


Lovins'  kindness.  (Heh.  i^rdciousnesx.)  All 
soris  of  kindnesses,  even  ouiward  and  cum- 
mon  mercies,  in  those  shall  he  understand  his 
goodness  :  in  recoveries  and  deliverances  from 
dangers,  and  temporal  hlestings.  he  their  [lor- 
tioii  in  ihein  less  or  more,  though  the  things 
be  common,  yet  they  come  to  he  his  own  hy 
a  particular  stamp  of  love,  which  to  others 
they  have  not.  And  the  children  of  God 
know  it,  they  can  find  it  out,  and  can  read  it, 
though  the  world  that  looks  on  it  can  not. 
And  indeed,  to  them,  the  lowest  things  are 
disjjosed  of.  in  order  to  the  highest :  their 
daily  hread  is  given  them  by  that  same  love 
that  gives  ihem  Christ:  all  is  given  in  him. 
So  the  curse  is  taken  away,  and  all  is  sweet- 
ened with  a  i)lessing.  A  little  that  a  righteous 
man  hath,  is  heller  than  the  abundance  of  tlic 
wicked. 

But  the  things  they  chiefly  prize  and  desire, 
as  indeed  they  deserve  so  to  be,  are  of  anoth- 
er sort  :  in  their  very  being  and  nature,  are 
love-lokens,  effects  of  that  peculiar  free-grace 
mat  chose  ihem  to  life.  And  this  is  called 
the  h i^ht  of  God's  countenance.  His  ever- 
lasting lore.  Now  they  that  are  icise,  and 
observe  these  things,  they  shall  understand 
this  loving  kindness.  Not  that  they  first  are 
thus  wise,  before  they  partake  of  this  loving 
kindness;  no:  by  it  this  wisdom  was  given 
them  ;  but  this  promise  is  made  to  their  im- 
provement of  that  ffifi,  and  walking  in  those 
ways  of  wisdom.  Not  only  are  they  loved  of 
God,  but  they  shall  understand  it.  He  will 
manifest  himself  to  them,  and  tell  them  he 
loves  them.  And  the  more  they  Avalk  in 
these  ways,  the  more  clearly  shall  they  per- 
ceive and  powerfully  find  his  love  manifested 
10  ihem. 

This  is  the  highest  inducement  that  can  be 
to  such  as  have  any  interest  in  it.  When  this 
love  hath  but  once  touched  them,  though  as 
yet  they  know  it  not  certainly,  yet  it  works 
that  esteem  and  aiTcction  that  nothing  can  be 
admitted  into  comparison  with  it.  While 
carnal  men  wallow  in  the  puddle,  these  are 
the  crystal  streams  a  renewed  soul  desires  lo 
bathe  in,  even  the  love  of  God.  0  !  let  me 
find  that ;  no  matter  what  T  have,  or  what  I 
want.  In  poverty,  or  any  distressed,  forsaken 
condition,  one  good  word  or  good  look  from 
him,  makes  me  up.  I  can  sit  down  content 
and  cheerful,  and  rejoice  in  that,  though  all 
the  world  frown  on  me,  and  all  things  look 
dark  and  comfortless  about  me,  that  is  a  piece 
of  heaven  within  the  soul.  Now,  of  this  ex- 
perimental, understanding  knowledge  of  this 
love,  there  are  dili'erent  degrees  ;  there  is  a 
great  latitude  in  this.  To  some  are  afforded, 
at  some  times,  little  glimpses  and  inlets  of  it 
ill  a  more  immediate  way  ;  but  these  stay 
not :  Suavis  hora.  sed  hrevis  mora.  Others  are 
upheld  in  the  belief  of  it,  and  live  on  it  by 
faith  :  though  it  shine  not  so  clear,  yet  a  light 
they  havp  to  walk  by.  Though  the  sun  shines 
act  br  silt  out  to  them  all  their  life,  yet  they 
are  led  borne,  and  understand  so  much  love 


m  their  way,  as  shall  bring  them  to  the  ful- 
ness of  it  ill  the  end.  Others,  having  passed 
most  of  the  day,  have  a  fiiir  <rlimpse  in  the 
very  evening  or  close  of  it.  But,  howsoever, 
they  that  walk  in  this  way  by  tiiis  light, 
whatsoever  measure  they  have  of  it,  are  led 
by  it  to  the  land  of  light.  The  connexion 
here  made,  you  see.  They  that  wisely  observe 
these  things,  shall  iinderslnnd  this  loving 
kindness.  A  wise  man  observin<r  of  Gofi's 
ways,  and  ordering  our  own  to  his  mind,  is 
the  certain  way  to  attain  much  exjierienced 
knowledge  or  his  love. 

This  love  is  most  free,  and,  from  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end,  works  of  itself ;  but  in  the 
method  of  it,  God  hath  thus  linked  things  to- 
gether, made  one  portion  of  grace,  in  the  use 
of  it.  draw  on  another.  And  this  his  children 
should  prudently  consider.  There  is  such  a 
like  speech,  Ps.  L  23  :  Whoso  offerelh  praise, 
glorijieth  me  .*  and  to  him  that  ordcreth  his 
conversation  aright,  will  I  show  the  salvation 
of  God. 

The  confetnplalion  of  God  in  his  works  sets 
the  soul  open  to  receive  the  ii:"uences  of  this 
love:  by  looking  toward  him,  draws  his 
eye  toward  it,  as  one  look  of  love  draws  on  an- 
other. Certainly  many  that  have  some  desire 
of  the  light  of  God's  countenance,  and  evi- 
dences of  his  love,  yet,  in  noi  applying  their 
souls  to  consider  him,  do  much  injure  them- 
selves. 

Heavenly  thoughts  do  refine  the  soul,  as 
fire  works  itsell'  higher  and  to  a  purer  flame 
by  stirring.  To  be  blessing  God  for  his  good- 
ness, giving  him  praise  in  the  view  of  his 
works  in  the  world,  and  for  his  church,  and 
particularly  for  ourselves,  this  both  disposes 
the  heart  to  a  more  suitable  temper  for  re- 
ceiving Divine  comforts,  and  invites  him  to 
let  them  flow  into  it.  For  if  he  have  such 
acknowledgments  for  general  goodness  and 
common  mercies,  how  much  larger  returns 
shall  he  have  upon  the  discoveries  of  special 
love  !  Is  it  a  sight  of  God  as  reconciled 
thou  wouldst  have  ?  Now,  praise  sets  a  man 
amonff  the  angels,  and  they  behold  his  face. 

Again,  action,  walking  in  his  ways  humbly 
and  carefully,  and  so  waiting,  never  wants  a 
successful  return  of  much  love.  How  can  he 
who  is  goodness  itself,  hide  and  reserve  him- 
self from  a  soul  that  yields  up  itself  to  him, 
hath  no  delight  but  to  please  him,  hate^  and 
avoids  what  may  offend  him  ?  This,  surely, 
is  the  way,  if  there  is  any  under  heaven,  to 
enjoy  communion  with  him. 

They  that  forget  him,  and  disregard  their 
ways,  and  are  no  way  careful  to  order  them 
to  his  liking,  do  but  delude  themselves  with 
mistaken  fancies  of  mercy.  I  beseech  you, 
be  warned.  There  can  not  be  solid  peace  in 
the  ways  of  sin  :  no  peace  to  the  wickrd,  sailh 
my  God.  Outward  common  favors  you  may 
share  for  a  time  :  but  these  have  a  curse  with 
them  to  you,  and  you  shall  cjuickly  be  at  an 
end  of  these  receipts  ;  and  then  you  would 
look  toward  him  for  some  persuasions  of  his 


Psalm  cxix.  90.  J 


IMPERFECTION  AND  PERFECTION. 


527 


loving  kindness,  but  are  likely  to  find  nothing 
but  frowns  and  displeasure.  0  !  consider  this, 
ye  that  forget  God,  lest  he  tear  you  in  pieces, 
and  there  he  none  to  deliver  you. 

Even  ihey  who  have  some  title  to  this  love 
of  God,  and  are  desiring  further  evidence  of 
it,  yei  do  often  sit  exceedingly  in  their  own 
light,  and  work  against  their  end,  still  bent 
on  that  assurance  they  would  have,  and  yet 
neglecting  the  way  to  it,  which  certainly  is 
ill  a  manner  to  neglect  itself.  Were  they 
more  busied  in  honoring  God,  doing  him  what 
service  they  can  in  their  station,  striving 
against  sin.  acknowledgmg  his  goodness  to 
the  world,  and  even  to  themselves,  that  they 
are  yet  in  the  region  of  hope,  not  cut  off  in 
their  iniquities,  thus  offering  praise,  and  or- 
derinty  their  conversation  aright,  submitting 
unto  him,  and  giving  him  glory  ;  their  assur- 
ances and  comforts,  in  the  measure  he  thinks 
fit,  would  come  in  due  time,  and  sooner  in  this 
way  than  in  any  other  they  could  take. 

Observe  these  things,  beware  of  sin,  and 
ye  shall  understand  the  loving-kindness  of  the 
Lord.  It  is  true,  this  love  of  God  changes 
not,  nor  hangs  on  thy  carriage,  nor  on  any- 
thing without  itself ;  yea,  all  our  good  hangs 
on  it ;  but  know,  as  to  the  knowledge  and  ap- 
prehension of  it,  it  depends  much  on  the  holy 
frame  of  thy  heart  and  the  exact  regulation  of 
thy  ways.  Sin  obstructs  and  darkens  all  ; 
those  are  the  clouds  and  mists  ;  and  where 
any  believer  is  adventurous  on  the  wavs  of 
sin,  he  shall  smart  for  it.  Wheresin  is,  there 
will  be  a  storm,  as  Chrysostom's  word  is  of 
Joshua.*  The  experience  of  all  witnesseth 
this.  No  strength  offaiih  will  keep  out  floods 
of  doubling  and  troublous  thoughts,  where 
any  novel  sin  hath  opened  a  gap  for  them  to 
rush  in  by-  See  David,  Psalm  li.,  ex[)rcssing 
himself  as  if  all  were  to  begin  again,  his  joy 
taken  away,  and  his  bones  broken,  and  to 
sense  all  undone  :  nothing  will  serve  but  a 
new  creature.  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O 
God ,  and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me. 

There  is  a  congruiiy  in  the  thing  itself,  and 
God  hath  so  ordered  it,  that  vexation  and  an- 
guish should  still  attend  sin,  and  the  ways  of 
holiness  be  ways  of  peace.  Say  men  what 
they  will,  great  falls  leave  wounds  and  smart 
behind  ihcrn,  and  ihcy  must  be  washi-d  with 
shar|HT  li(|U(ir  before  balm  and  oil  be  poured 
into  ihem.  And  not  only  will  more  notorious 
hreach(!s  disturb  thy  peace,  but  a  tract  of 
careless  and  fruitless  walking.  Ifthouabate 
of  thy  atiendance  on  (Jod,  and  thy  fear  cool 
toward  him,  lagging  and  falling  downward  to 
something  you  are  caring  for  and  taken  with, 
you  f  ball  find  an  estrangement  :  it  may  be  in- 
sensiblf^  at  first  and  for  a  while  because  of  thy 
sloth,  that  thou  dost  not  observe  diligently 
how  it  i^  with  thee  ;  but  after  a  time,  it  shall 
be  mor(!  easily  known,  but  more  hardly  mend- 
ed. And  there  are  none  of  us  but  might  find 
much  more  of  God  in  this  our  way  home- 


\  ward,  if  the  foolishness  and  wanderings  of  oui 
hearts  did  not  prevent  us. 

Be  persuaded,  then,  you  whose  hearts  he 
hath  wrought  for  himself  to  attend  beUer  on 
him,  and  the  advantage  shall  be  your?,  doubt 
it  not.  And  though  for  a  time  you  find  it  not, 
yet  wait  on,  and  go  on  in  that  way  ;  it  shall 
not  disappoint  you.  The  more  you  let  go  ol 
the  false,  vain  comforts  of  the  world  for  his 
sake,  the  more  richly  you  shall  be  furnished 
with  his.  Oh  !  we  make  not  room  for  ihem  ; 
that  is  the  great  hinderance.  Consider  him, 
behold  his  works,  bless  him,  confess  him  al- 
ways worthy  of  praise  for  his  goodness  and 
his  wonderful  works  to  the  children  of  men, 
however  he  deal  with  thee  in  particular  ;  and 
assuredly,  he  shall  deal  graciously  with  thee, 
and  ere  long  thou  shalt  find  it,  and  be  forced 
to  acknowledge  it.  Though  it  may  be  thou 
want  these  bright  shillings  of  comforts  thou 
wouldst  have,  yet,  looking  to  him,  and  walk- 
ing before  him,  observing  these  things,  thou 
shalt  have  of  his  light  to  lead  thee  on,  and  a 
calm  within  ;  sweet  peace,  not  that  height  of 
joy  thou  desircst. 

There  are  ofien  calm,  fair  days  without 
storm,  though  it  be  not  so  clear  sunshine; 
and  in  such  days  a  man  may  travel  comforta- 
bly. I  would  have  Christians  called  off  from 
a  perplexed  over-pressing  of  this  point  of  their 
particular  assurance.  If  we  were  more  stu- 
dious to  please  biin,  forgetting  ourselves,  we 
should  find  him  remember  us  the  more  ;  yet, 
we  should  not  do  so  for  this  either,  but  sim- 
ply for  himself  In  a  word,  this  is  thy  wis- 
dom ;  mind  thy  duty,  and  refer  to  him  thy 
comfort. 


SERMON  XXI. 

IMPERFECTION  AND  PERFECTION. 

PsALM  CXIX.  96. 

I  have  seen  an  end  of  all  pcrfoclion  ;  but  tbv  com- 
man<lmi.'iit  is  exceeding  broad. 

Grace  is  a  divine  light  in  the  soul,  and 
shows  the  true  colors  of  things.  The  ajjostle 
overshoots  not  when  he  says.  The  spiritual 
man  jud geth  all  things.  He  hath  undeniably 
the  advantage  :  he  may  judge  (jf  natural 
things,  but  the  natural  man  can  not  judge  of 
spiritual  things.  Yea,  the  truest  judgment 
of  natural  things,  in  respect  to  our  chiefest 
end,  springs  particularly  from  spiritual  vvis- 
dom  :  that  makes  the  true  parallel  of  things, 
and  gives  a  just  account  of  their  dilferences, 
as  here. 

I  have  seen  an  end,  fee]  A.i  that  have 
any  measure  of  spiritual  light,  are  of  this 
mind  :  but  certainly,  they  that  are  more  emi- 
ntMitly  blessed  with  it,  have  a  more  W\<i\\  and 
clearer  view  of  both  parts.  David,  who 
is  <?enerally,  and  with  greatest  likelihood, 
supposed  to  the  author  of  this  Psalm,  was 


b28 


IMPERFECTION  AND  PERFECTION. 


[Skr,  XXI, 


sinf;iilarly  advantajred  to  irmke  this  judefmeni 
oC  things.  He  had,  no  dnui)!,  a  iarfre  measure 
of  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  of  his  law, 
wiiich  here  he  declares  to  he  so  har^e  ;  and 
beini;  botli  a  wise  and  a  great  man,  might 
know  more  than  most  others,  even  of  all  oili- 
er perfections — might  trace  them  to  their  ut- 
most, and  see  tiieir  end,  as  he  expresses  it. 
This  same  rerdict  we  iiave  from  his  son  Solo- 
mon, after  nmch  experience  in  all  things;  who, 
having  the  advantage  of  peace  and  riches, 
did  particularly  set  hiinself  to  this  work,  to  a 
most  exact  inquiry  after  all  things  of  this 
earth.  He  set  nature  on  the  rack,  to  confess 
its  utmost  strength  for  the  delighting  and  sat- 
isfying of  man  :  with  much  jrains  and  art,  he 
extracted  the  very  spirit  of  all,  and  after  all, 
he  gives  the  same  judgment  we  have  here  ; 
his  book  writ  on  that  suljject,  being  a  para- 
phrase on  this  sentence,  dilating  the  sense, 
and  confirminc  the  truth  of  it.  It  carries  its 
own  sum  in  those  two  words  which  begin 
and  end  it  ;  the  one,  Vanity  of  vanities  all  is 
vanity,  and  the  other.  Fear  God  and  keep  his 
commandments,  for  that  is  the  whole  duty  of 
man.  And  these  here  are  just  the  equivalent 
of  those  two  ;  the  former  of  that  beginning 
word,  1  have  seen  an  end  of  all  perfection  ; 
and  the  latter  of  that  concluding  one.  But 
thy  commandment  is  exceeding  broad. 

When  mean  men  speak  of  this  world's 
greatness,  and  poor  men  cry  down  riches,  it 
passes  but  for  a  querulous,  peevish  humor, 
to  discredit  things  they  can  not  reach,  or  else 
an  ignorant  contempt  of  things  they  do  not 
understand  ;  or,  taking  it  a  little  further,  hut 
a  self-pleasing  shift,  a  willingly  undervaluing 
of  those  things  of  purpose  to  allay  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  want  of  them  :  or  at  the  best, 
if  something  of  truth  and  goodness  be  m  the 
opinion,  yet,  that  the  assent  of  such  persons 
is  (like  the  temperance  of  sickly  bodies), 
rather  a  virtue  made  of  necessity,  than  em- 
braced of  free  choice.  But  to  hear  a  wise 
man,  in  the  height  of  these  advantages,  pro- 
claim their  vanity,  yea,  kings  from  the  very 
thrones  whereon  they  sit  in  iheir  royal  robes, 
give  forth  this  sentence  upon  all  the  glories 
and  delights  about  them,  is  certainly  above 
all  exception.  Here  are  two,  the  father  and 
the  son  ;  the  one  raised  from  a  mean  condi- 
tion to  the  crown,  instead  of  a  shei)herd's 
staff,  to  wield  a  sceptre,  and  that,  after  many 
afflictions  and  dangers  in  the  way  to  it,  which, 
to  some  palates,  gives  a  higher  relish  and 
sweetness  to  honor,  than  if  it  had  slid  on 
them  before  they  could  feel  it,  in  the  cheap, 
easy  way  of  an  undoubted  succession.  Or,  if 
any  think  David's  best  days  a  little  cloudy, 
by  the  remains  of  insurrections  and  opposi- 
tions, in  that  case  usual:  as  the  jumbling  of 
the  water  is  not  fully  quieted  for  a  while  af- 
ter the  same  is  over  ;  then,  take  the  son,  suc- 
ceeding to  as  fair  a  day  as  heart  can  wish, 
both  a  complete  calm  of  peace,  and  a  bright 
sunshine  of  riches  and  regal  pomp,  and  he 
able  to  improve  these  to  the  highest.  And 


yet,  both  these  are  perfectly  of  trie  same 
mind  in  this  great  point.  The  son  having 
])eace  and  time  for  it,  though  a  king,  would 
make  his  throne  a  puljiit,  and  be  a  preacher 
of  this  one  doctrine,  to  which  the  fathers  sen- 
tence is  the  fittest  text  1  have  seen. 

The  words  give  an  account  of  a  double 
prospect  ;  the  latter  being,  as  it  were,  the 
discovery  of  a  new  world  after  the  travelling 
over  the  old,  expressed  in  the  former  clause: 
I  have  seen  an  end  of  all  perfection,  i.  e.,  ta- 
ken in  an  exact  view  of  all  other  things,  and 
seen  their  end  ;  hnt  thy  commandment  is  of 
exceeding  extent  and  perfection,  and  I  see  but 
a  [lart,  and  there  is  no  end  of  it. 

7  have  seen  an  end.]  I  have  tried  and 
made  experiment  of  much  of  what  this  world 
affords,  and  the  rest  I  see  to  the  uttermost  of 
it,  how  far  it  reaches.  The  psalmist,  as 
standing  on  a  vantage  ground,  sees  clearly 
round  about  him  the  farthest  horizon  of  earth- 
ly excellencies  and  advantages,  and  finds 
them  not  to  be  infinite  or  unmeasurable  ; 
sees  that  they  are  bounded,  yea,  what  their 
bounds  are,  how  far  they  go  at  their  very  far- 
thest, an  end  of  all,  even  of  perfection.  And 
this  is  in  effect  what  I  find,  that  their  end 
stops  short  of  satisfaction.  A  man  may  think 
and  desire  beyond  them,  yea,  not  only  mat/, 
but  must :  he  can  not  be  terminated  by  their 
bounds,  will  still  have  a  stretch  farther,  and 
feels  them  leave  him,  and  then  finds  a  void. 
All  which  he  says  most  porKlerously  in  these 
short  words,  giving  the  world  the  slight  thus: 
It  is  not  so  great  a  matter  as  men  imagine  it ; 
the  best  of  it  I  have  examined,  and  CLinsider- 
ed  it  to  the  full,  taken  the  whole  dimension  : 
all  the  profits  and  pleasures  under  the  sun, 
their  utmost  goes  but  a  short  way  ;  the  soul  is 
vaster  than  all,  can  look  and  go  much  farther. 

I  will  not  attempt  tlie  particulars,  to  reck- 
on all,  or  be  large  in  any  :  the  preacher,  Sol- 
omon, hath  done  this  matchlessly,  and  who  is 
he  that  can  come  after  the  king?  If  any  be 
sick  of  that  poor  disease,  esteem  of  riches,  ht 
can  tell  you  the  utmost  of  these,  that  wher 
they  increase,  they  are  increased  that  eat  them 
and  what  good  is  to  the  openers  thereof,  savi. 
the  beholding  of  them  itith  their  eyes  1  Eccl 
V.  11.  Yea,  locking  them  up,  and  not  usinj. 
them,  and  still  gathering,  and  all  to  no  use 
tills  is  a  madness  :  it  is  all  one  as  if  they  weri* 
still  in  the  mines  under  the  ground,  and  thi 
difference  none,  but  in  turnioiling  pains  in 
gathering  and  tormenting  care  in  keeping. 
But  take  the  best  view  of  them,  supposing 
that  they  be  used,  that  is,  spent  on  family 
and  retinue,  why  then,  what  hath  the  owner 
but  the  siffhtof  them  for  himself  ?  Out  of  all 
his  dishes,  he  fills  hut  one  belly.  Of  all  his 
fair  houses  and  richly-furnished  rooms,  he 
lodges  but  in  one  at  once.  Andifhir  great 
rent  be  needful  for  his  great  trair..  ,i  any 
other  ways  of  expense,  is  it  an  advanta^ic  lo 
need  much  ?  Or  is  he  not  rather  poorer  who 
needs  five  or  six  thousand  pounds  by  year, 
than  he  that  needs  but  one  hundred  ? 


Psalm  cxix.  96.] 


IMPERFECTION  AND  PERFECTION. 


529 


Of  all  the  festivities  of  the  world  and  de- 
lights of  sense,  the  result  is,  laus^hler  is  mad; 
and  mirth,  and  orchards,  and  music,  these 
things  pass  away  as  a  dream,  and  are  still  to 
begin  again.  And  so  gross  and  earthly  are 
they,  that  for  the  beasts  they  may  be  a  fit 
good,  but  for  a  divine,  immortal  soul,  they 
can  not.  A  horse  lying  at  ease  in  a  fat  pas- 
ture, may  be  compared  with  those  that  take 
delight  in  them. 

Honor  and  esteem  are  yet  vainer  than  those 
pleasures  and  riches  that  furnish  them. 
Though  they  be  nothing  but  wind,  compared 
ed  to  solid  soul-delights,  yet,  as  to  nature, 
there  is  in  them  somewhat  more  real  than 
in  the  fame  of  honor  :  which  is  no  more,  in- 
deed, than  an  airy,  imaginary  thing,  and 
hangs  more  on  others  than  anything  else, 
and  not  only  on  persons  above  them,  but  even 
those  below  ;  especially  that  kind  which  the 
vanity  of  man  is  much  taken  with,  all  popu- 
lar opinion,  than  which  there  is  nothing  more 
light  and  poor,  and  that  is  more  despised  by 
the  elevated  sort  of  natural  spirits,  a  thing  as 
unworthy  as  it  is  inconstant.  No  slavery 
like  the  affecting  of  vulgar  esteem  :  it  en- 
thrals the  mind  to  all  sorts.  Often  the  wor- 
thiest share  least  in  it.  See  Eccl.  ix.  11-15. 
True  worth  is  but  sometimes  honored,  but  al- 
ways envied.  Eccl.  iv.  4,  Asrain,  I  cnnsidcr- 
ed  all  travail,  and  every  right  ivork,  that  for 
this  a  mail  is  envted  of  his  ne?g;hbor.  And 
with  whomsoever  it  is  thou  seekest  to  he  es- 
teemed, be  it  with  the  multiiude,  or  more 
chiefly  with  the  wiser  and  better  sort,  what  a 
narrow  thing  is  it  at  largest !  How  many  na- 
tions know  neither  thee,  nor  those  who  know 
thee  ! 

Beyond  all  these  things  is  inward  worth, 
and  even  that  natural  wisdom  such  as  some 
minds  have  to  a  far  more  refined  height  than 
others.  A  man  by  it  sees  round  about  him, 
yea,  and  within  himself  That  Solomon 
grants  to  be  an  excellent  thing,  Eccl.  iv.,  yet 
presently  finds  the  end  of  that  perfection,  ver. 
16.  That  guards  not  from  disasters  and  vex- 
ations ;  yea,  there  is  in  it  an  innate  grief, 
amid  so  many  follies.  Eccl.  i.  18.  7n  much 
wisdom  is  much  !^ri/'f,  and  he  that  increaselh 
knowledge,  increaselh  sorrow.  Yea,  give  a 
man  the  confluence  of  all  these,  which  is  so 
rare,  make  him  at  once  rich,  and  honorable, 
and  healthful,  and  encompassed  with  all  the 
delights  of  nature  and  an,  and  wise  to  make 
the  best  improvement  of  all  they  can  well 
afford  (and  there  is  much  in  that),  yet,  there 
ts  an  end  of  these  ptrf ecHnns.  For  there  is 
quickly  an  end  of  himself  who  hath  tiiem: 
he  dies,  and  that  spoils  all.  Death  breaks 
the  strings,  and  that  ends  the  music.  And 
the  highest  of  natural  wisdom,  which  is  the 
soul  of  all  nature's  advantages,  that  ends 
them,  whether  practical  or  political.  In  that 
day  are  all  state  projects  and  high  thoughts 
laid  low,  if  speculative.  For,  in  spile  of  all 
sciences  and  knowledge  of  nature,  a  man  goes 
out  in  the  dark ;  and  if  thou  art  learned  in 
67 


many  languages,  one  death  silences  all  thy 
tongues  at  once.  So  says  Solomon,  Eccl.  ii.  16, 
And  how  dieth  the  vise  man  ?  as  a  fool.  Yea, 
suppose  a  man  were  not  broken  off,  but  contin- 
ued still  in  the  topofall  these  perfections;  yea, 
imagine  much  more,  the  chiefest  delights  of 
sense  that  have  ever  been  found  out,  more 
solid  and  certain  knowledge  of  nature's  se- 
crets, all  moral  composure  of  spirit,  the  high- 
est dominion,  not  only  over  men,  but  a  depu- 
ted command  over  nature's  frame,  the  course 
of  all  the  heavens,  and  the  affairs  of  all  the 
earth,  and  that  he  was  to  abide  in  this  es- 
tate :  yet  would  he  see  an  end  of  this  per- 
fection, that  is,  it  would  come  short  of  ma- 
king him  happy.  It  is  a  union  with  a 
Higher  Good  by  that  love  that  subjects  all 
things  to  him,  that  alone  is  the  endless 
perfection  :  Thy  commandment  is  exceeding 
hrnnd. 

You  may  think  this  a  beaten  subject,  and 
possibly,  that  some  other  cases  or  questions 
were  fitter  for  Christians.  I  wish  it  were 
more  needless.  But,  oh,  the  deccitfulness  of 
our  hearts  !  Even  such  as  have  shut  out  the 
vanities  of  this  world  at  the  fore-gate,  let 
them  in  again,  or  some  part  of  them  at  least, 
at  the  postern.  Few  hearts  clearly  come  off 
untied  from  all,  but  are  still  lagging  after 
somewhat  ;  and  thence  so  little  delight  in 
God,  in  prayer  and  holy  things.  And  though 
there  be  no  fixed  esteem  of  other  things,  yet 
that  indisposition  to  holy  ways,  argues  some 
sickly  humor  latent  in  the  soul ;  and  there- 
fore this  is  almost  generally  needful,  that 
men  be  called  to  consider  what  they  seek  af- 
ter. Amid  all  thy  pursuits,  stop  and  ask  thy 
soul,  For  what  end  is  all  this?  At  what  do 
1  aim  ?  For  surely,  by  men's  heat  in  these 
lower  things,  and  their  cold  indifference  for 
heaven,  it  would  seem  we  take  our  portion  to 
be  here.  But,  oh,  miserable  portion  at  the 
best!  Oh  !  short-lived  hajipiness!  Look  on 
them  and  learn  to  see  this,  ihee«^/o/  all  per- 
fections, and  to  have  an  eye  beyond  them, 
till  your  hearts  be  well  weaned  from  all 
things  under  the  sun.  Oh  I  there  is  little  ac- 
quaintance with  the  things  that  are  above  it, 
little  love  of  them,  still  some  pretensions, 
some  hopes  that  flatter  us — "  T  will  attain 
this  or  that ;  and  then" — Then  what  ?  What 
if  this  night,  thou  fool,  thy  soul  shall  be  re- 
quired of  thee  ? 

But  thy  cnmmandmeni.]  The  former  part  of 
this  sentence  hath  witiiin  every  man's  breast 
somewhat  to  suit  with  it  and  own  it.  Readi- 
ly, each  man  according  to  his  experience  and 
the  capacity  of  his  sotil,  bath  his  sense,  if 
awake,  of  the  unsaiisfactoriness  of  all  this 
world.  Give  him  what  iliou  wilt,  yet,  still 
there  is  empty  room  within,  and  a  pain  in 
that  emptiness,  and  so,  vexation,  a  torment- 
ing windiness  in  all.  And  men  of  more  con- 
templative minds  have  higher  and  clearer 
thoughts  of  this  argument  and  matter,  and 
may  rise  to  a  very  high  moral  contempt  of 
the  world ;  and  some  c*"  them  have  done  so 


53") 


IMPERFECTION  AND  PERFECTION. 


LSer.  XXI. 


Bui  ihis  other  part  is  more  sublime,  and  pe- 
culiar to  a  divine  illumination.  That  which 
we  find  not  irit/iout,  we  would  have  vithni, 
and  would  work  out  of  ourselves  what  can 
not  be  extracted  from  thinn^s  about  us.  Phi- 
losopliy  is  much  set  on  liiis,  but  it  is  upon  a 
false  scent,  and  so  still  deluded.  No,  it  !i  with- 
out us  ;  not  within  us,  but  above  us.  That 
fulness  is  in  God,  and  there  is  no  communion 
with  him,  or  enjoyment  of  him,  but  in  the 
way  of  his  commandmeni.  Therefore,  this  is 
the  discovery  that  answers  and  satisfies,  'J'hy 
commandment  7S  exceedhtsr  broad. 

Commandme7it.]  He  speaks  of  all  as  one, 
I  conceive,  for  that  tie  and  connexion  of  them 
all,  on  account  of  which  he  that  breaks  one, 
is  guilty  of  all.  A  rule  they  are,  and  are  so 
one,  as  a  rule  must  be.  One  authority  runs 
through  all:  that  is  the  golden  thread  they 
are  strung  on.  Break  that  anywhere,  and  all 
the  pearls  drop  off.  Psalm  cxix.  6  :  Then 
shall  I  not  he  ashamed,  irhcn  I  have  respect 
to  all  thy  commandmcjils.  Otherwise  one 
piece  shames  another,  like  uneven  and  incon- 
gruous ways.  The  legs  of  the  lame  not  be- 
ing even,  make  an  unseemly  going.  And  as 
it  is  here,  so  a  ])lural  word  is  joined  with  the 
singular,  ver.  137,  and  Psalm  cxxxii.*  And 
it  is  fitly  here  spoken  of  as  one  opposed  to  all 
varieties  and  multitudes  of  things  beside.  Thy 
commandment,  each  linked  to  one  another, 
and  that  one  chain  reaches  beyond  all  the  in- 
coherent perfections  in  the  world,  if  one  were 
added  to  another,  and  drawn  to  a  length. 
This  commandment  is  exceeding  broad  ;  the 
/■ery  breadth  immense,  and  therefore  the 
'ength  must  be  much  more  so,  no  end  of  it. 
rhat  good  to  which  it  leads  and  joins  the 
soul,  is  enough  for  it:  it  is  complete  and  full 
in  its  nature,  and  endless  in  its  continuance, 
so  that  there  is  no  measuring,  no  end  of  it 
uny  way.  But  all  other  perfections  have 
iheir  bounds  of  being,  and  period  of  duration, 
so  that  each  way  an  end  is  to  be  found  of 
;hem.  Now,  in  this,  the  opposition  is  the 
imore  admirable,  that  he  speaks  not  expressly 
of  the  enjoyment  of  God,  but  of  the  com- 
mandment of  God  :  he  extols  that  above  all 
the  perfections  of  the  world.  Which  is  much 
to  be  remarked,  as  having  in  it  a  clear  char- 
acter of  the  purest  and  highest  love.  It  had 
been  more  obvious  to  all,  had  he  said,  I  have 
seen  the  utmost  of  all  besides  thee,  but  thou, 
0  God,  the  light  of  thy  counienance,  the 
blessed  vision  of  thy  face,  that  alone  is  bound- 
less and  endless  happiness.  Or,  lo  have  ta- 
ken it  below  the  full  perfect  enjoyment  of 
glory,  but  some  glances  let  into  the  soul  here, 
a  comfortable  word  from  God,  a  look  of  love, 
oh,  how  far  surpassing  all  the  continued  ca- 
resses and  delights  of  the  world  !    He  speaks 

•  Deuiii  trailuiit  llobra'i,  uuX  voce,  eloquio  uno, /loc 
tst,  uno  .spiritii  ot  halilii,  sine  ulla  intf-rspiratione, 
mora.  p;uisa,  vel  distiiictioiip,  ita  lit  omnia  verba,  tan- 
luam  verbum  iiinim,  el  vox  una,  fuernnt,  elocutum. 
Alqui  hinc  voliint  (hiplicem  iilam  aecentuiiin  rationeiii 
in  DecaloKo  ortam,  ut  altera  una,  illa  Dei  conliniiata 
elocutio,  at.cra  homiiiurii  tarda  el  diitincla,  judicctur. 


not  of  that  neither,  hut  Thy  eommandment  is 
ejrreeding  broad.  As  the  apostle  says.  The 
foolishness  of  God  is  wiser  than  mail's  wis- 
do7n,  1  Cor.  i.  25,  so  here,  that  of  God  which 
seems  lowest  and  hardest,  is  infinitely  beyond 
whatsoever  is  highest  and  sweetest  in  the 
world.  The  obeying  of  his  commands,  his 
very  service,  is  more  profitable  than  the 
world's  rewards  :  his  commands  more  excel- 
lent that  the  perfection  of  ilie  world's  enjoy- 
ments. To  be  subject  to  him,  is  truer  happi- 
ness than  to  command  the  whole  world. 
Pur.e  love  reckons  thus:  Though  no  further 
reward  were  to  follow  obedience  to  God,  the 
perfection  of  his  creature  and  its  very  happi- 
ness, carries  its  full  recompense  in  it  own  bo- 
som. Yea,  love  delights  most  in  the  hardest 
services.  It  is  self-love,  to  love  the  embra- 
ces and  rest  of  love  ;  but  it  is  love  to  him  in- 
deed to  love  the  love  the  labor  of  love,  and 
the  service  of  it.  and  that,  not  so  much  be- 
cause it  leads  to  rest,  and  ends  in  it,  but  be- 
cause it  is  service  to  him  whom  we  love. 
Yea,  that  labor  is  itself  a  rest,  it  is  so  natural 
and  sweet  to  a  soul  that  loves.  As  the  revo- 
lution of  the  heavens,  which  is  a  motion  in 
rest,  and  rest  in  motion,  changes  not  place, 
thouah  running  still  :  so,  the  motion  of  love 
is  truly  heavenly,  and  circular  still  in  God, 
beginning  in  him,  and  ending  in  him,  and  so, 
not  ending,  but  still  moving  without  weari- 
ness. 

Let  us  see  what  the  commandment  is,  and 
that  will  clear  it,  for  it  is  nothing  but  love. 
All  is  in  that  one,  Thou  shall  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  &c.  So,  the  com- 
mand that  is  here  called  so  broad,  is  love. 
There  is  no  measuring  that,  for  its  object  is 
immeasurable.  We  readily  exceed  in  the 
love  of  any  other  thing  ;  but  in  the  love  of 
God  there  is  no  danger  of  exceeding.  Its 
true  measure  is,  to  know  no  measure. 

According  as  the  love  is,  so  is  the  soul :  it 
is  made  like  to,  yea,  it  is  made  one  with, 
that  which  it  loves.  Si  terram  aynas,  terra 
es  :  SI  Deurn  anias,  quid  vis  ut  dicam,  Dcus 
es  ?  [Augustine.]  By  loving  gross,  base 
things,  it  becomes  gross,  and  turns  to  flesh, 
or  earth  ;  and  «o,  by  the  love  of  God,  it  is 
made  divine,  is  one  with  him.  So  this  is  the 
excellencv  of  the  command  enjoining  love. 
God  hath  a  good-will  to  all  his  creatures; 
but  that  he  should  make  a  creature  capable 
of  loving  him,  and  appoint  this  for  his  com- 
mand, oh  !  herein  his  goodness  shines  bright- 
est. Now,  though  fallen  from  this,  we  are 
asain  mvited  to  it :  though  degenerated  and 
accursed  in  our  sinful  nature,  yet  we  are  re- 
newed in  Christ,  and  this  command  is  re- 
newed in  him,  and  a  new  way  of  fulfilling  it 
is  pointed  out. 

This  command  is  broad.  There  is  room 
enough  for  the  soul  in  God,  that  is  hampered 
and  pinched  in  all  other  things.  Here,  love 
with  all  thy  heart,  with  all  thy  soul,  with  ah 
thy  mind,  and  with  all  thy  strength.  Stretch 
it  to  the  utmost ;  there  is  enough  for  it  here, 


Hab.  iii.  17,  18.] 


CONFIDENCE  OF  FAITH. 


531 


while  it  must  contract  and  draw  itself  to  oth- 
er things.  /  w?7/  w<ilk  at  liberty,  says  David, 
for  I  seek  thy  precepts.  That  which  per- 
verse nature  judges  thraldom,  once  truly 
known,  is  only  freedom.  This  is  because  the 
law  is  love,  and  such  a  love  as  brings  full 
content  to  the  soul.  Man  hath  not  an  object 
of  love  besides  God  ;  too  many  he  hath  thai 
can  torment  and  trouble  him,  but  not  one  that 
by  being  loved  by  him,  satisfies  and  quiets 
him.  Whether  he  loves  things  without  him, 
or  himself,  still  he  is  pained  and  restless.  All 
other  things  he  loves  naturally,  in  reference 
to  himself:  but  himself  is  not  a  sufficient  ob- 
ject for  him.  It  must  be  something  that  adds 
to,  and  perfects  his  nature,  to  which  he  must 
be  united  in  love:  somewhat  higher  than 
himself,  yea,  the  highest  of  all,  the  Father 
of  Spirits.  That  alone  completes  a  spirit  and 
blesses  it,  to  love  him,  the  spring  of  spirits. 

Now  this  love,  as  including  obedience  to 
his  commands,  is  a  thing  in  itself  due  and 
expressly  commanded  too.  Tiiis  is  the  thing 
which  surpasseth  all  pursuits  and  all  enjoy- 
ments under  heaven,  not  only  to  be  loved  of 
God,  but  to  love  him.  Yea,  could  these  be 
severed,  this  rather  would  be  the  deformity 
and  misery  of  the  creature,  to  hate  him:  this 
IS  the  hell  of  hell. 

And  to  love  him,  not  only  with  complacen- 
cy, a  desire  to  enjoy  him,  but,  moreover,  wish- 
ing him  glory,  doing  him  service,  desiring  he 
may  be  honored  by  all  his  creatures,  and  en- 
deavoring ourselves  to  honor  him,  that  is  our 
\.' >rk  ;  applauding  the  praises  of  ansels  and 
all  creatures,  and  adding  our  (as  Psalm  ciii. 
22)  svvHei,  willing,  entire  submission  to  his 
will,  ready  to  do,  to  suffer  anything  for  him. 
O.h  !  awav  all  base,  muddy  pleasures,  all 
false  night-shows  of  earthly  glories,  all  high 
a. tempts  and  heroic  virtues!  These  have 
their  measure  and  their  close,  and  prove  in 
the  end  but  lies.  This  command,  this  love 
alone,  is  the  endless  perfection  and  delight  of 
souls,  which  begins  here,  and  is  completed 
above.  The  happiness  of  glorv  is  the  perfec- 
tion of  holiness:  that  is  the  full  beauty  and 
loveliness  of  the  SpCMise,  the  f>amb's  wife. 

Oh  !  how  much  are  the  multitudes  of  men 
to  be  pitied,  who  are  hunting  they  know  not 
what,  slill  pursuing  content,  and  it  still  (ly- 
ing before,  and  they  at  as  great  a  distance  as 
when  they  promised  themselves  to  lay  hold 
on  it !  It  is  strange  what  men  are  doing. 
Ephritim  fcedcth  on  the  wind.  Hos.  xii.  1. 
The  most  serious  designs  of  men  are  more 
foolish  than  the  play  of  children  :  all  the  dif- 
ference is,  that  these  are  tristes  incptice, 
sourer  and  more  sad  trides. 

Oh,  that  ye  would  turn  this  way,  and  not 
still  lay  out  your  monei/  for  that  which  is  not 
bread  !  You  would  find  the  saddest  part  of 
a  spiritual  course  of  life  hath  under  it  more 
true  sweetness  than  all  your  empty  minhs, 
which  sound  much,  and  are  nothing,  like  the 
crncklins;  of  thorns  under  the  pot.  There  is 
more  joy  ia  enduring  a  cross  for  God,  than  in 


the  smiles  of  the  world  ;  in  a  private,  de- 
spised affliction,  without  the  name  of  suffering 
for  his  cause,  or  anything  it  like  martyrdom, 
but  only  as  coming  from  his  hand,  kissing  it, 
and  bearing  it  patiently,  yea,  gladly  for  his 
sake,  out  of  love  to  him  because  it  is  his  will 
so  to  try  thee.  What  can  come  amiss  to  a 
soul  thus  composed  ? 

I  wish  that  they  who  have  renounced  the 
vain  world,  and  have  the  face  of  their  hearts 
turned  Godward,  would  learn  more  this  hap- 
py life  and  enjoy  it  more,  not  to  hang  so  much 
upon  sensible  comforts,  as  to  delighi  in  obe- 
dience, and  to  wait  for  those  at  his  pleasure, 
whether  he  gives  much  or  little,  any  or  none. 
Learn  to  be  still  finding  the  sweetness  of  his 
commands,  which  no  outward  or  inward 
change  can  disrelish,  rejoicing  in  the  actings 
of  that  Divine  love  within  thee.  Continue 
thy  conflicts  with  sin,  and  though  thou  mayest 
at  limes  be  foiled,  yet,  cry  to  him  for  help, 
and  getting  up,  redoub'e  thy  hatred  of  it  and 
attempts  against  it.  •'~<tili  stir  this  flame  of 
God.  That  will  overcome:  Many  waters  can 
not  quench  it.  It  is  a  renewed  pleasure,  to  be 
offering  up  thyself  ev.-ry  day  to  God.  Oh  ! 
the  sweetest  life  in  \,>e  world,  is,  to  be  cros- 
sing thyself,  to  pleav.  him  ;  trampling  on  thy 
own  will,  to  follow  las 


SERMON  XXIT. 

CONFIDEf.T  OF  FAITH. 

HaBAKV./  111.  17,  18. 

Alttioiigh  ihc  fig-tret  .""iPii  no»  blossom,  neither  shall 
fruit  he  in  the  viii'-  ;  tiie  iiibot  pi'  the  olive  shall  fail, 
and  the  fields  simll  yield  no  meat  •  the  flocks  shall 
be  cut  oU"  from  the  (old,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd 
in  the  stalls ; 

Yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  jn_v  in  the  God 
of  my  salvation. 

Most  men's  industries  and  employments  are 
chiefly  without  them,  but  certainly  our  main 
and  worthiest  business  lies  within  us  ;  nor  is 
ever  a  man  tit  for  the  varieties  and  vicissitudes 
of  time  and  affairs  without,  till  he  have  taken 
some  pains  to  some  good  purpose  within  him- 
self A  distempered,  discomposed  mind  is 
as  a  limb  out  of  joint,  which  is  lit  for  no  ac- 
tion, and  moves  both  deformedly  and  pain, 
fully.  That  which  we  have  to  do,  my  breth 
ren,  for  which  these  our  meeiings  are  com 
manded  of  God,  and  should  be  attended  by  us, 
and  which  we  should  follow  out  when  we 
are  gone  hence,  is  this,  the  reducing  of  our 
souls  to  God.  Their  disunion  from  him  is 
their  disjointing,  and  they  are  never  right  till 
they  refix  on  him  ;  and  being  there,  they  are 
so  right,  that  nothing  can  come  wrong  to 
them.  As  they  are  not  readily  ensnared  with 
ease  and  plenty,  so,  neither  are  they  lightly 
astonished  with  want  and  trouble,  but,  in  the 
ebb  of  all  other  comforts,  they  can  hold  the 
prophet's  purpose,  to  /(;)/  in  the  Lord,  and 
rejoice  tn  the  God  of  tlieir  salvation. 


S32 


CONFIDENCE 


OF  FAITH. 


[Ser.  XXh 


TmS:  «rr  may  hear  and  speak  of,  but  truly, 
few  attain  it.  I  tear,  many  of  us  are  not  so 
uuich  as  seekins^  after  it  and  aspiring  to  it.  A 
soul  really  conversaiu  with  God,  is  taken  up 
wiili  liiin,  all  iis  alfections  work  and  move 
toward  liiiii,  as  the  prophet's  here;  his  fear, 
\\\»joi/,  liis/r».f/,  ver.  16-19.  This  is  a  jirayer, 
as  it  is  entiiled,  hut  it  is  both  a  prophetical 
and  an  unusual  one  ;  a  prophecy  and  a  som:; 
(as  the  word  added  imports)  of  Hahakkuk  the 
prophet  on  Ne^inolh.  The  strain  of  it  is  high, 
and  full  of  sudden  raptures  and  changes,  as 
tiiat  word  signifies  ;  as  here,  having  ex[)ress- 
ed  much  fear  in  the  foregoing  words,  a  shiver- 
ins,  trembling  horror,  lie  yet  adds  such  a 
height  of  an  invincible  kind  of  joy — like  tiie 
needle  of  the  compass,  fixedly  looking  toward 
liim,  yet,  not  without  a  trembling  motion. 
Thus,  we  have  the  temper  of  the  psalmist, 
Psahn  ii.  11 :  Rejoice  inlh  tremllnn^.  Which 
suits  well  to  so  sublime  an  object ;  joying  in 
God,  because  he  is  f^ood,  yet  with  joy  still 
mixed  with  holy  awe,  because  he  is  srent. 
And  this  especially  in  a  time  of  great  judg- 
ments, or  in  the  lively  apprehensions  or  repre- 
sentations of  them,  whether  before  or  after 
their  inflicting ;  whether  they  be  on  the  people 
of  God  for  their  iniquities,  or  on  the  enemies 
of  God  for  their  oppressions  and  cruelties  to 
his  people  while  he  made  tliem  instruments 
for  tlieir  correction.  In  both,  God  is  formid- 
able, and  greatly  to  he  feared,  even  by  those 
that  are  nearest  to  him.  This  we  find  in  ibe 
prophets  when  seeing  judgments  afar  ofiT,  long 
before  their  day,  which  they  had  commission 
to  denounce.  So.  this  prophet  here  not  only 
discovers  great  awe  and  fear  at  what  lie  saw 
and  foretold  concerning  God's  own  people,  the 
Jews,  but  at  the  after-reckoning  with  the 
Chaldeans,  his  and  their  enemies.  When 
God  comes  to  do  judgment  on  the  wicked, 
this  will  make  them  who  stand  by  and  suffer 
not  with  them,  yet  to  tremble  ;  yea,  such  as 
are  advantaged  by  it,  as  usually  the  people 
o/ God  a.e,  their  enemies'  ruin  proving  their 
deliverance.  The  majesty  and  greatness  of 
God,  and  the  terribleness  of  his  march  toward 
tliemnnd  seizing  on  them,  as  it  is  liere  highly 
set  forth,  this  works  an  awful  fear  in  the  hearts 
of  his  own  children.  They  can  not  see  their 
father  angry  but  it  makes  them  quake,  tiiough 
it  be  not  against  them,  but  on  their  behalf. 
And  this  were  our  right  temper,  when  we 
see  or  hear  of  the  hand  of  God  against  wicked 
men,  who  run  their  own  courses  against  all 
waf^ng  : — not  to  entertain  these  things  with 
carnal  rejoicings  and  lirjlitness  of  mind,  or 
with  boasting  insults  :  to  ajjplaud  indeed  the 
righteousness  of  God,  and  to  give  him  his 
glory,  but  withal,  to  fear  before  him,  though 
ihey  were  strangers  and  no  way  a  part  of 
ourselves,  and  to  have  an  humble  sense  of  the 
Lord's  dealing  in  it ;  so,  Psalm  lii.  G  ;  and  to 
learn  to  reverence  God  ;  m  all  our  ways  to 
acknoivled ge  htm;  to  be  sure  to  take  him 
along  with  us,  <ind  to  undertake  nothing  with- 
out him. 


And  this  fear  of  judgments  falling  upon 
others,  is  the  way  not  to  feel  them  on  our 
selves.  When  God  sees  that  the  sound  of  the 
rod  on  others'  backs  will  bumble  a  soul  or  a 
people,  he  will  spare  stroke  of  it.  They 
who  have  most  of  this  holy  fear  of  (lod's 
anger,  fall  least  under  the  dint  oi'it.  Blessed  is 
he  that  fcareth  always  ;  htt  he  that  hardens  hii 
heart,  shall  fall  into  mischief.  Prov.  xxviii.  14. 
He  that  fears  it  not,  shall  tall  into  it ;  he  that 
fears  and  trembles  at  it,  shall  escape.  So  the 
prophet  here  trusts  for  himself:  ver.  16:  1 
trernhled  in  myself,  that  I  might  rest  in  the 
day  of  trouble,  and  upon  this  confidence,  he 
rises  to  this  high  resolution,  Yet  Iwill  rejoice 
in  the  Lord. 

The  words,  to  make  no  other  division  of 
them,  are  a  conjuncture  of  a  sad  supposition, 
and  a  cheerful  position,  or  purpoix^- 

Although  the  Jig-tree  shall  not  llossnm.'\ 
This  is  a  thing  that  may  come,  and,  possibly, 
which  the  prophet  did  foresee  would  come, 
among  other  judgments  ;  and  it  is  of  all  other 
outward  scourges  the  sorest,  most  smarting, 
and  most  sweeping  ;  cuts  off  most  people, 
and  can  least  be  suffered  and  shifted.  It  lieth 
amon?  the  rest  in  the  storehouse  of  Divine 
judgments.  He  who  furnished  the  earih,and 
gave  being  by  the  word  of  his  mouth  to  all 
these  things,  hath  still  the  sole,  absolute 
power  of  them  :  they  obey  his  word  of  com- 
mand,  and,  rightly  looked  upon,  in  our  use 
of  them,  and  the  sweetness  we  find  in  them, 
lead  us  to  him  as  the  spring  of  being  and 
goodness.  He  is  invisible  in  his  nature  ;  in 
his  works,  most  visible  and  legible.  Not  only 
the  spacious  heavens  and  the  glorious  lights 
in  them,  but  the  meanest  things  on  earth, 
every  plant  and  flower  in  their  being  and 
growing,  yea,  every  pile  of  grass,  declare  God 
to  us. 

And  it  is  a  supernatural  light  in  natural 
things  to  see  and  taste  him  in  them.  It  is 
more  pleasant  than  their  natural  relish  ;  it  is 
the  chief  inner  sweetness,  the  kernel  and 
marrow  of  all  ;  and  they  that  take  not  the 
pains,  and  have  not  the  skill  to  draw  it  forth, 
lose  the  far  betti  r  half  of  their  enjoyments, 
even  of  the  things  of  this  earth.  To  think, 
how  wise  he  is  who  devised  such  a  frame, 
how  powerful  he  who  made  all  these  things, 
how  rich  he  must  be  who  still  continues  to 
furnish  the  earth  with  these  varieties  of  pro- 
visions, how  sweet  must  he  be,  whence  all 
these  things  draw  their  sweetness!  But,  alas! 
we  are  brutish,  and  in  our  use  of  these  things, 
we  differ  liitle  or  nothing  from  tl»e  beast.  We 
are  called  to  a  higher  life,  but  we  live  it  not. 
Man  is  in  honor,  hut  he  understands  it  not ; 
he  IS  as  the  beast  that  perishes.  Psalm  xlix.  20. 

Now,  because  we  acknowledge  God  so  little 
in  the  use  of  these  things,  therefore  he  is  put 
to  it  (so  to  speak)  to  leach  us  our  lesson  in  the 
want  and  deprivenient  of  them,  which  our 
dulness  is  more  sensible  of  We  know  things 
a  great  deal  better  by  wanting  them,  than  by 
having  thera,  and  take  more  notice  of  thai 


Hab.  lii.  17,  18.] 


CONFIDENCE  OF  FAITH. 


533 


hand  which  hath  power  of  them,  when  he 
withdraws,  than  when  he  bestows  them. 

Besides  all  other  provocations,  and  particu- 
lar abuses  of  these  things  by  intemperance 
and  luxury,  were  it  no  more  than  ihe  very 
neglecting  of  God  in  his  goodness,  this  calls 
for  a  famine,  to  diet  us  into  wiser  thoughts, 
and  to  remind  us  of  our  own  and  all  other! 
creatures'  dependance  on  that  God  whom  we 
so  forget,  as  to  serve  our  idols  and  lusts  upon 
his  bouQty.  This  was  the  case  of  Judah  and 
Israel.  See  Hos.  ii.  8-13.  But  when  more 
sparingly  fed,  and  better  laugiit,  in  the  wilder- 
ness, those  mercies  were  resiored  again,  and 
then,  all  acknowledged  the  dowry  of  that 
blessed  marriage  with  himself,  which  is  so 
far  beyond  all  account.    Ver.  14-16. 

How  wretched  ingratitude  is  it,  not  to  re- 
gard and  love  him  in  the  use  of  all  his  mer- 
cies !  But  it  is  horrid  sti'ipidity,  not  to  con- 
sider and  seek  to  liim  in  their  withdrawment, 
or  in  the  threatening  of  it.  Few  have  a  right 
sense  of  his  hand  m  anything.  They  grumble 
and  cry  out,  but  not  to  him.  As  in  the  case 
of  oppression,  it  is  said.  Job  xxxv.  9,  10,  Bij 
reason  of  the  multitude  of  oppressions,  they 
make  the  oppressed  to  cry  ;  they  cry  out  by 
reason  of  the  arm  of  Ihe  mighty,  but  none 
sayelh,  Where  is  God  my  maker  i — so,  of  this 
very  judgment  of  famine,  the  prophet  speaks, 
Hos.  vii.  14  :  And  they  have  not  cried  unto  me 
with  their  hearts,  when  they  howled  upon  their 
beds:  they  assembled  themselves  for  corn  and 
wine,  and  they  rebel  against  me.  Tliey  did 
not  humbly  and  repeiitingly  seek  to  God  by 
prayer,  but  a  natural  brutish  sense  of  their 
wants  pressed  out  complaints  :  lliey  howled 
as  a  hungry  dog  would  do  for  bread.  This  is 
ail  the  most  do,  in  years  of  dearth,  or  harvests 
threatening  it.  No  beast  in  the  mountain  or 
wilderness  is  so  untamed  as  the  heart  of  man, 
which,  when  catclied  in  (iod's  judgments,  lies 
and  cries  as  a  wild  bull  in  a  net.  It  is  true, 
they  are  somewhat  nearer  sober  thoughts  in 
distress  ;  and  their  grief  though  merely  natu- 
ral, yet  is  nearer  spiritual  grief,  than  their 
mirth  and  laughter  ;  but  it  umst  have  a  touch 
of  that  Spirit  above,  to  make  it  spiritual,  to 
made  it  change  to  gold,  to  turr  *,  to  godly 
sorrow.  No  scourge  carries  a  |)owet  of  chang- 
ing the  heart  with  it;  that  is  a  superadded 
work.  Many  people,  and  particular  persons, 
have  been  beat  as  in  a  mtjrtar  with  variety 
of  afllictions,  one  coming  thick  upon  another, 
and  yet,  are  never  the  wiser,  and  yet,  have 
not  returned  unto  me,  saith  the  Lord. 

Therefore,  if  you  be  afflicted,  join  prayer 
with  your  correction,  and  beg  by  it,  that  God 
would  join  his  Spirit  with  it.  Seek  this  in 
earnest,  else  you  shall  be  not  a  whit  the  bet- 
ter, but  siiall  still  endure  the  smart,  and  not 
reap  the  fruit  thereof.  Yea,  I  believe,  some 
are  the  worse,  even  by  falsely  ima^inin^  they 
are  better,  partly  presuming  it  must  be  so, 
and  [lartly,  may  be,  feeling  s(jme  present  mo- 
tions and  meltings  in  the  time  of  alllictions, 
whicb  e"anish  and  presently  cool  when  they 


are  off  the  fire.  Ay,  but  these  two  together 
make  a  happy  man  ;  Blessed  is  he  whom  thou 
correctest,  and  teachest  out  of  thy  law.  Psalm 
xciv.  12. 

Although  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom.] 
This  sometimes  does,  and  at  any  time  may, 
befall  a  land  ;  but,  however,  it  is  very  useful 
!  10  put  such  cases.  It  is  true,  there  is  great 
odds  between  real  and  imagined  distresses  ; 
yet,  certainly,  the  frequent  viewing  of  its 
picture,  though  it  is  only  in  the  imagination, 
hath  so  much  likeness  as  somewhat  abates 
the  strangeness  and  frighlfulness  of  its  true 
visage  when  it  comes. 

There  is  a  foolish  pre-apprehension  of  possi- 
ble evils,  which,  whether  they  come  or  not, 
does  no  good,  but  makes  evils  to  come  per- 
plexingly  beforehand,  and  antedates  their 
misery,  and  adds  the  pain  of  many  others 
that  will  never  come.  These  are  the  fumes 
of  a  dark,  distemi)ered  humor,  vain  fears, 
which  vex  and  trouble  some  minds  at  present, 
and  do  not  waste  anything  of  any  grief  to 
come  after.  But  calmly  and  composedly  to 
sit  down  and  consider  evil  days  coming,  any 
j  kind  of  trials  that  probably,  yea,  or  possibly, 
may  arrive,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  entertain 
them  without  astonishment :  this  is  a  wise 
and  useful  exercise  of  the  mind,  and  takes  off 
much  of  the  weight  of  such  things,  breaks 
them  in  falling  on  us,  that  they  come  not  so 
sad  down,  when  ihey  light  first  u[)on  theappre- 
hension.  Thus,  it  is  true,  nothing  comes  un- 
awares  to  a  wise  man.  He  baih  supjiosed  all, 
or  as  bad  as  anything  that  can  come,  hath  ac- 
(juainied  his  mind  with  the  horridest  shapes, 
and,  therefore,  when  such  things  appear,  will 
not  so  readily  siart  at  them. 

This  I  would  advise  to  be  done,  not  only  in 
things  we  can  more  easily  suffer,  ljut  in  tlujse 
we  tliink  would  prove  hardest  and  must  indi- 
gestible, to  inure  thy  heart  to  them  :  not  to 
be  like  some,  who  are  so  tender-fancied,  that 
they  dare  not  so  much  as  think  of  some  things, 
the  death  of  a  dear  friend,  or  husband,  or  wife, 
or  child.  That  is  oftener  to  be  viewed,  ra- 
ther than  any  other  event.  Bring  ihy  mind 
,  to  it,  as  a  starting-horse  to  that  whereat  it 
does  most  startle — "  What  if  I  should  be  be- 
reft of  such  a  person,  such  a  thing  ?"  This 
Would  make  it  much  more  tolerable  when 
thou  art  put  to  it.  "  What  if  the  place  where 
I  live,  were  visited  with  all  at  once  in  some 
degree,  pestilence,  and  sword,  and  famine? 
How  should  1  look  on  them  ?  Could  my  mind 
kee[)  its  own  jilace  and  standing,  fixed  on  God 
in  such  a  case?  What  if  I  were  turned  out 
of  my  good  furniture  and  warm  house,  ant 
stripped  not  only  of  accessory,  but  necessary 
things"  (as  here  he  sujiposcs  not  only  the  fail 
ing  of  delicacies,  the  tig-tree,  wine,  and  ol- 
ives, but  of  common  necessary  food,  the  fields 
not  yielding  meat,  and  the  flocks  cut  off)  ; 
thy  little  ones  cryinirfor  bread,  and  thou  hast 
none  for  them  ?  You  little  know  what  the 
tenderesi  .nnd  delicalest  among  you  may  be 
[)Ut  to.    These  times  have  given  many  real 


t>34 


CONFIDENCE  OF  FAITH. 


[Ser.  XXII 


instances,  within  these  kinifdoms,  of  striin2:e 
chan<(es  in  die  (•ontlition  uf  all  ranks  of  per- 
sons. Or  iliink,  if  thou  abhorrest  thai,  "  What 
if  I  were  sniitlen  with  blotches  or  loathsome 
sores  on  my  fiesii,  or  if,  by  any  accident,  1 
should  lose  an  arm,  or  an  eye.  or  both  eyes  ? 
What  if  extreme  poverty,  and  sickness,  and 
forsaking  of  friends  come  all  at  once  ?  Could 
I  welcome  these,  and  make  up  all  in  God  — 
find  riches,  and  friends,  and  fulness  in  him  ?"' 
Most  men,  if  ihey  would  speak  truly  to  such 
a  case,  must  declare  them  insufferable  :  "1 
were  undone  if  such  a  thing  befell  ine,  or  such 
a  comfort  were  taken  from  me."  Most  would 
cry  out,  as  Micah  did,  Judges  xviii.  24 :  Ye 
have  taken  away  ini/  trtxls  ;  for  so  are  these 
th  ings  our  beans  cleave  to  and  principally  de- 
light in.  He  thai  worships  mammon,  his 
purse'is  the  sensiblest  piece  of  him  :  he  is 
broke,  if  fire,  or  ravage  of  war,  throw  him 
out  of  his  nest,  and  empty  it.  He  that  makes 
his  belly  /lis  god  (such  they  are  the  apostle 
speaks  of,  Phil.  iii.  19),  how  could  he  endure 
this  case  the  prophet  puis  here,  the  failing  of 
vines,  of  flocks  and  herds  ? 

It  were  good  to  add  to  the  supposition  of 
want,  somewhat  of  the  reality  of  it;  some- 
times to  abridge  thyself  of  thinirs  thou  de- 
sirest  and  lovest,  to  inure  thy  appetite  to  a 
refusal  of  what  it  calls  for  ;  to  practise  some- 
what of  poverty,  to  learn  to  need  few  things. 

It  is  strange,  men  should  be  so  foolish  as 
to  tie  themselves  to  these  things,  which  have 
neither  satisfying  content  in  them,  nor  cer- 
tain abode.  And  w/n/  shovldst.  thou  set  thine 
eyes  on  things  tvhich  are  not  ?  says  Solomon, 
Proverbs  xxiii.  5 — a  nonens,  a  fancy  ?  How 
soon  may  you  be  parted  !  He  who  is  the  true 
God,  God  alone,  how  soon  can  he  pull  the 
false  gods  from  you,  or  you  from  them  !— as 
in  that  word,  Job  xxvii.  8  :  What  is  the  hope 
of  the  hypocrite,  though  he  hath  irained,  tvhen 
God  taketh  away  hts  soul?  Like  that  case  in 
the  parable,  Luke  xii.  19:  Soul,  take  thine 
ease.  A  strange  inference  from  lull  barns  ! 
That  were  sufficient  provision  for  a  horse,  a 
fit  happiness  for  it ;  but  for  a  soul,  though  it 
were  to  stay,  how  gross  and  base  a  portion  ! 
But  it  can  not  stay  neither:  This  night  thy 
soul  shall  he  required  of  thee. 

The  only  firm  position  is  that  of  the  proph- 
et. Yet  v'lll  J  rejoice  in  the  Lord.  And  such 
times  indeed  are  fit  to  give  proof  of  this,  to 
tell  thee  whether  il  be  so  indeed,  where  thy 
heart  is  built.  While  thy  honor,  and  wealth, 
and  friends,  are  about  thee,  it  is  hard  to  know 
whether  these  props  bear  lln-'e  up,  or  anoth- 
er, an  Invisible  sup[)orter  :  but  when  these 
are  plucked  away,  and  thou  art  desiiiute  round 
about, then  it  will  appear  if  ihy  sirenffth  he  in 
God,  if  these  other  things  were  but  flourishes 
about  thee,  and  thou  laidst  no  weight  on  them 
at  all.  He  that  leans  on  tliese,  must  fall  when 
these  fall,  and  hii^  hope  is  cut  off,  and  his  trust 
as  a  spider  s  weti.  He  shall  lean  upon  his 
house,  out  it  shall  not  stand.  Job  viii.  14,  15. 
They  that  clasp   their  hearts  about  their 


houses  or  estates,  within  a  while  they  areei 
iher  sadly  pulled  ai^under,  or  swept  away  to 
gel  her. 

Bui,  oh  I  the  blessed,  the  high  condition  of 
a  soul  set  on  God,  untied,  independent  from 
all  things  beside  him,  its  whole  depcndance 
and  rest  placed  on  liim  alone,  silting  loose  to 
all  the  world,  and  so  not  stirred  with  altera- 
tions! Yea,  amid  the  turnings  upside-down 
of  human  things,  if  the  frame  of  the  heaven 
and  earth  were  falling  to  jjieces,*  the  heart 
founded  on  him  who  made  il, abides  unmoved  ; 
the  everlasting  arms  are  under  it,  and  bear  it 
up. 

Do  ye  believe,  my  brethren,  that  there  is 
such  a  thing,  that  it  is  no  fancy  ?  Yea,  all  is 
but  fancy  beside  it.  Do  you  believe  this? 
Why,  then,  is  one  day  after  another  put  off", 
and  this  not  attained,  nor  the  soul  so  much  as 
entered  or  engaged  to  a  serious  endeavor  after 
it,  lookinff  on  all  things  else,  compared  to 
this  noble  design,  as  vanity  ?  How  often,  and 
how  easily  are  their  joys  damped,  who  rejoice 
in  other  things,  and  their  hopes  broken  ! 
What  they  expected  most,  soon  proves  a  lie, 
as  the  word  spoken  of  the  olive  here  signifies  ; 
as  if  the  lalwr  of  it  should  lie  (spem  mentita 
seges) — a  fair  vintage  or  harvest  promised, 
and  either  withered  with  drought,  or  drowned 
with  rain  ;  indeed,  it  lies  at  the  best  I  But  the 
soul  that  places  its  joy  on  God,  is  still  fresh 
and  green  when  all  are  withered  about  it. 
Jer.  xvii.  8  :  Acquaint  thyself  ivith  him  be- 
times in  ease.  It  is  a  sad  case,  to  be  making 
acquaintance  with  him,  when  thou  shouldst 
most  make  use  of  his  friendship,  and  find 
comfort  in  his  love. 

Now  this  joy  in  God  can  not  remain  in  an 
impure,  unholy  soul,  no  more  than  heaven 
and  hell  can  mix  together.  An  impure,  un- 
holy soul,  I  call  not  that  which  is  stained 
with  sin.  for  no  other  are  under  the  sun  ;  all 
must  then  quit  all  pretensions  to  that  estate  ; 
but  such  a  one  as  willingly  entertains  any  sin- 
ful lust  or  way  of  wickedness.  Thai  delight 
and  this  are  directly  opposite.  And  certainly 
the  more  the  soul  is  refined  from  all  deligli  s 
of  sin,  yea,  even  from  sinless  delights  of  sense 
and  of  this  present  world,  it  hath  the  more 
capacity,  the  fitter  and  the  larger  room,  for 
this  pure,  heavenly  delight. 

No  language  can  make  a  natural  man  un- 
derstand what  this  thing  is,  to  rejoice  in  God. 
Oh  !  it  is  a  mystery.  Most  men  mind  poor 
childish  things,  laughing  and  crying  in  a 
breach,  at  trifles  ;  easily  puff"ed  up,  and  as  ea- 
sily cast  down.  But  even  the  children  of 
God  are  too  little  acquainted  with  this  their, 
portion.  Which  of  you  find  this  power  in  the 
remembrance  of  God,  that  it  doth  overflow' 
and  drown  all  other  things,  both  your  worldly 
joys  and  worldly  sorrows,  that  you  find  them 
not  ?  And  thus  it  would  be,  if  we  knew  him. 
Is  he,  then,  our  Father,  and  yet  we  know 
him  not  ? 

Although  all  should  fail,  yet,  rejoici;  in  him 
•  Si  fractus  illibatur  orbU. 


I  Cor.  i.  30.1  SUMMARY  OF  SPIRITUAL  PRIVILEGES. 


535 


who  fails  iiol,  who  alters  not.  He  is  still  the 
same  in  himself,  and  to  the  sense  of  the  soul 
that  is  knit  to  him,  is  then  sweetest  when  the 
world  is  bitterest.  When  other  comforts  are 
withdrawn,  the  loss  of  them  brings  this  great 
gain,  so  much  the  more  of  God  and  his  love 
imparted,  to  make  all  up.  They  that  ever 
found  this,  could  almost  wish  for  things  that 
others  are  afraid  of.  If  we  knew  how  to  im- 
prove them,  his  sharpest  visits  would  be  his 
sweetest;  thou  wouldst  be  glad  to  catch  a 
kiss  of  his  hand  while  he  is  beating  thee,  or 
pulling  away  something  from  thee  that  thou 
lovest,  and  bless  him  while  he  is  doing  so. 

Rejoice  in  God,  although  the  Ji<;-tree  blos- 
som not,  &c.  Yea,  rejoice  in  these  hardest 
things,  as  his  doing.  A  heart  rejoicing  in 
him,  delights  in  all  his  will,  and  is  surely 
provided  for  the  most  firm  joy  in  all  estates  ; 
for  if  nothing  can  come  to  pass  beside,  or 
against  his  will,  then  can  not  that  soul  be 
vexed  with  delights  in  him,  and  hath  no  will 
but  his,  but  follows  him  in  all  times,  in  all 
estates,  not  only  when  he  shines  bright  on 
them,  but  when  they  are  clouded.  That 
flower  which  follows  the  sun,  doth  so  even  in 
cloudy  days:  when  it  doth  not  shine  forth, 
yet  it  follows  the  hidden  course  and  motion 
of  it.  So,  the  soul  that  moves  after  God, 
keeps  that  course  when  he  hides  his  face  ;  is 
content,  yea,  is  glad  at  his  will  in  all  estates, 
or  conditions,  or  events.  And  though  not  only 
all  be  withered  and  blasted  without,  but  the 
face  of  the  soul  little  better  within  to  sense, 
no  flourishing  of  graces  for  the  present,  yet  it 
rejoices  in  him,  and  in  that  everlasting  cove- 
nant that  still  holds,  ordered  in  all  Ikniirs 
and  sure,  as  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel  sweetly 
expresses  it,  2  Sam.  xxiii.  5  :  For  this,  says 
he,  ts  alt  my  salvation  and  all  my  desire,  al- 
though he  make  it  not  to  <>row.  That  is  a 
Strange  althou<rh,  and  yet  is  he  satisfied  even 
in  that. 

This  joy  in  God,  as  my  God,  the  God  of 
my  salvation,  ought  to  exercise  the  soul  in 
the  darkest  and  worst  times  ;  and  it  ought  to 
stick  to  it,  not  to  let  go  this  confidence,  still } 
expecting  salvation  from  him,  and  resting  on  ! 
him  for  it,  though  not  having  those  senses  ' 
and  assurances  that  thou  desirest.  This,  weak 
believers  are  easily  beaten  from,  by  tempta- 
tion. But  we  are  to  stand  to  our  ri^ht  in  him, 
even  when  we  see  it  not.    And  when  it  is 
said  to  thee,  as  in  Psalm  iii.,  that  there 
is  no  help  for  thee  in  God,  tell  all  thai  say  I 
so,  they  lie:  He  is  my  God,  my  glory,  and  \ 
the  lifter-up  of  my  head  ;  as  there  he  speaks. 

Rejoice  in  him  still  as  ihy  God  ;  and  how- 1 
ever,  rejoice  in  him  as  (Jon.  /  will  rejoice  in 
Jehovah,  glad  that  he  is  God,  that  his  enemies 
can  not  unsettle  nor  reach  bis  throne,  that  he 
rules,  and  is  glorious  in  all  things,  that  he  is 
self-blessed,  and  needs  nothing.  This  is  the 
Durest  and  highest  kind  of  rejoicing  in  him, 
and  is  certainly  most  distant  and  most  free 
from  alteration,  and  hath,  indeed,  most  of 
heaven  in  ii. 


SERMON  XXIII. 

SPIRITUAL  PRIVILEGES. 

1  Cor.  i.  30. 

But  of  him  are  ye  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  of  God  i» 
made  unto  us  wisdom,  righteousness,  sanctilication 
and  redemption. 

The  great  design  of  the  gospel  is,  to  bring 
men  to  Jesus  Christ ;  and,  next  to  that,  to  in- 
struct those  who  are  brought  to  him,  in  the 
clearest  knowledge,  and  to  keep  them  in  the 
fresh  remembrance  of  the  privileges  and  hap- 
piness they  have  in  him.  This  the  apostles, 
writing  to  new  converts,  much  insist  upon, 
and  Paul  most  abundantly  :  but  nowhere 
more  excellently  and  fully  than  in  these 
words. 

As  that  is  a  great  and  much  commended 
oracle,  yiwSi  nairov.  Know  thyself,  so,  also, 
there  can  be  nothing  more  comfortable  and 
profitable  for  a  Christian  than  this  point,  to 
understand  his  new  being,  to  know  himself 
as  out  of  himself  in  Christ,  to  study  what  he 
is  there.  Oh  !  what  joy,  what  humility,  what 
holiness  would  it  work,  were  we  well  seen 
and  much  conversant  in  this  subject,  viewing 
ourselves  in  this  light,  as  here  the  apostle  rep, 
resents  a  believer  to  himself.  Of  him  are  ye  in 
Christ  Jesus,  &c. 

If  we  look  back  a  little,  we  see  his  aim  is, 
to  vindicate  the  doctrine  of  Christ  from  con- 
tempt  in  that  chief  point  whicii  is  the  believ- 
er's greatest  comfort  and  glory,  yet  lies  open- 
est  to  the  world's  misprison,  the  doctrine  of 
the  cross,  Christ  crucijied.  Him  we  preach, 
says  he,  let  men  take  it  as  they  please  :  be  he 
a  stnmhlinir-hlock  to  the  Jews,  and  foolishness 
to  the  Gentiles,  yet,  to  them  that  lielifve  among 
both,  he  is  the  power  of  God,  and  the  wisdom 
of  God. 

As,  in  the  person  of  Christ,  glory  was 
wrapped  up  in  meanness,  so  it  was  in  his  suf- 
ferings and  death.  And  in  the  doctrine  of  it, 
and  in  the  way  of  preaching  of  it,  they  are  not 
dressed  with  human  wisdom,  or  excellency  of 
sperch:  this  would  be  as  incongruous  as  that 
rich,  gaudy  attire  they  cover  the  image  of  the 
Virgin  with,  and  her  Child  lying  in  a  stable. 
And  that  all  might  be  suitable,  so  is  it  in  the 
persons  of  those  that  believe  on  him.  Breth- 
ren, you  see  your  callinif,  how  that  not  many 
wise  men  after  the  fesh,  not  many  mi'^hty, 
not  many  noble,  are  called.  And  (ii>d's  pur- 
pose in  this,  is,  that  no  Jlesh  should  glory  be- 
fore hrn. 

This  is  the  grand  disease  of  flesh,  to  swell 
in  conceit  of  any  little  advantages,  real  or  im- 
agined, forgetting  itself  and  him  from  whom 
it  receives  all,  receives  its  very  *elf,  the  being 
it  hath,  and  all  superadded  good.  Now,  God 
is  pleased,  in  justice  on  some,  and  in  great 
mercy  to  others,  so  to  order  moJ»t  things  ir 
the  world,  as  to  allay  this  tumor ;  often  bring- 
ing down  high  things,  and  raising  the  low, 
and  so  attempering  and  levelling  disparities 


536 


SUMMARY  OF  SPIRITUAL  PRIVILEGES, 


[Sf.r.  XXIll. 


as  to  takr  men  oft'fruni  solf-glorying.  Proud 
uiidertakin^s,  wo  see,  are  coininoiily  most 
disgraoetully  broken.  Nor  is  iliere  any  surer 
jiassage  of  the  sjjeedy  ruin  of  any  alVairs  or 
persons,  ilian  ])resum|)iuous  boastiiiii.  This 
IS  Gad's  work  among  men,  as  even  natural 
men  iiavo  observed,  to  abase  iiiajh  tilings,  to 
exalt  low  things.  He  goes  from  one  tiling  to 
another,  jiuliing  down  ihe  crest  and  blas.ing 
the  glory  c»f  all  liumaii  excellency,  breaking 
the  likeliest  projects,  and  efi'ecting  what  is 
least  to  be  expeclcd,  withdrawing  man  from 
his  purpose,  to  hide  pride  from  his  eyes,  as 
Elihu  speaks,  Job  xxxiii.  17.  To  this  pur- 
pose, see  Job  x.  11,  12  ;  1  Sam.  ii.  4,  5;  and 
the  Virgin  in  her  song,  Luke  i.  51.  Whatso- 
ever men  bear  themselves  big  upon,  and  be- 
gin to  glory  in,  they  call  the  hand  of  God  lo 
crush  it,  raising  an  idol  of  jealousy  in  his 
sight.  All  high  things  have  their  day  :  77ie 
day  of  the  Lord  shnll  he  on  nil  the  cedars  of 
Lebanon,  and  he  alone  exalted.  Isa.  ii.  13,  17. 
If  ever  this  was  the  case  in  any  time,  we  mav 
see  it  is  legible  in  ours,  in  great  letters.  This 
is  the  very  result  of  his  ways,  staining  the 
pride  of  all  glory,  defeating  witty  counsels,  j 
making  counsellors  mad,  throwing  down  all 
plumes  and  trampling  them  in  the  mire,  that 
no  party  or  persons  in  the  kingdom  can  set 
out  for  any  triumph  of  courage,  or  wit,  or  any 
other  excellency, but  somewhat  shall  be  clear- 
ly seen  to  meet  and  dash  it  in  pieces,  that  no 
flesh  may  glory  before  him.  And  this,  to 
souls  that  love  God,  is  the  main  happiness  of  i 
the  times,  and  that  wherein  they  will  chiefly 
rejoice. 

The  particular  here  spoken  of,  is  eminent- 
ly suited  to  this  end,  the  choice  and  calling 
of  persons  to  the  dignity  of  Christians:  Not 
many  wise,  not  man)/  mi<{hty,  or  noble,  but 
the  mean  thim^s,  the  foolish  things,  and  the 
most  insignificant,  things  that  are  not,  non- 
entia,  very  nothings,  to  annul  things  that 
seem  most  to  be  somethinij.  Thus  it  was  in 
the  first  times;  and  thousfh  afterward,  by 
means  of  these  meaner  jiersons,  greater  were 
caught  and  drawn  into  Christ,  philosophers 
and  kings,  yei  still  it  remains  true  in  all 
times,  that  predominantly  the  choice  is  of  the 
meaner  sort;  God  testifying  how  little  bees- 
teems  those  tilings  which  men  account  <jrent. 
Those  endowments  of  wit  and  eloquence 
which  men  admire  in  some,  alas  I  how  poor 
are  they  to  him  !  he  respecteth  not  any  who 
are  wise  in  heart:  they  are  nothinsr,  and  less 
than  nothing  in  his  eyes.  He  is  the  author 
of  all  these.  Will  he  esteem  thy  riches  ?  No, 
not  gold,  nor  all  the  forces  of  strength.  Job 
xxxvi.  19.  Even  wise  men  admire  how  little 
It  is  that  men  know,  how  small  a  matter  lies 
under  the  sound  of  those  popular  wonders,  aj 
learned  man,  a  great  scholar,  a  great  states- 1 
man  :  how  much  more  doth  the  all-wise  God 
meanly  account  of  these!  He  often  discov- 
<?rs,  even  lo  the  world,  their  meanness  ;  he 
oelbols  tbein.  So  valor,  or  birth,  or  worldly 
greatness,  these  he  gives,  and  gives  as  things  i 


I  he  makes  no  great  reckoning  of,  to  euch  as 
shall  never  see  his  face  ;  and  calls  to  liie  in- 
heritance of  glory  poor  despised  creatures 
who  are  looked  on  as  the  ciflscourings  and 
refuse  of  the  world  :  these  are  raised  from  the 
dnnu:hill,  and  set  with  princes,  made  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  God,  entitled  each  of  them 
to  a  crown  that  fades  not.    Oh  the  wonder  ! 

Now,  they  are  not  ])u(!'ed  up  with  this,  but 
the  more  assurance  they  have,  and  the  clearer 
their  view  is  of  the  slate  they  are  called  to, 
the  more  bumble  they  are  ;  siill  laying  these 
together.  What  was  I  in  myself?  and  what 
am  I  in  Christ?  And,  in  comparing  these, 
they  are  swallowed  up  with  amazement  at 
that  love  which  made  iliischange  ;  and  for  this 
very  end  doih  the  apostle  express  thus  their 
estate.  Ye  are  of  him  in. Christ  Jesus. 

This  isa  new  being,  a  creation  ;  for,  in  re- 
lation to  this  being,  we  are  nothing  in  our 
state  of  nature  ;  and  then,  considering  that  in 
relation  to  others,  the  meanest  are  often 
chosen  and  made  partakers  of  this  beingi  such 
as  have  nothing  naturally  great  of  nobility, 
or  morality,  or  high  intellectuals;  the  most 
nothings  are  often  chosen  and  made  ])arta- 
kers  of  this  being,  to  illustrate  the  power  of 
Him  who  makes  them  exist.  In  kings  some- 
what may  be  observed  of  this  in  llieir  choice 
of  favorites,  and  raising  men  who  are  not 
of  highest  deserving,  as  afi'ecting  to  show 
their  freedom  in  choice,  and  their  power  in 
making  out  of  nothing,  and  so  they  love  to 
have  them  called  their  creatures.  But  these 
are  but  shadows :  both  are  poor  creatures,  both 
are  easily  thrown  down.  But  God  doth  in- 
deed show,  in  his  choice,  his  freedom  a"id 
power  in  his  new  creature:  he  draws  tlu-m 
out  of  the  lowest  bottom  of  nothing,  and 
raises  them  to  the  most  excellent  kind  of 
being  that  creatures  are  capable  of,  to  be  the 
sons  of  God,  and  so  heirs,  joint  heirs  with 
Christ  Jesus.    Rom.  viii.  17. 

Ye  are  of  him  in  Christ  Jesus.']  This  must 
be  taken  in  an  eminent  sense.  All  the  crea- 
tures are  of  God  ;  but  man,  even  in  his  first 
creation,  for  the  dignity  of  his  being,  and  the 
slow  way  of  forming  him,  was  accounted  to 
be  of  God,  in  a  peculiar  manner  ;  formed  to 
his  own  likeness,  and  therefore  called  the  Son 
of  God,  called  his  offspring.  Acts  xvii.  28. 
But  in  this  new  being,  much  more  are  we  so : 
we  are  of  him  as  his  children,  partakers  of 
the  divine  nature,  and  that  so  fastened  that  it 
abideth.  And  the  medium  of  this  excellent 
and  permanent  being  is  primarily  to  be  con- 
sidered ;  for  in  him  it  becomes  so.  It  is  both 
high  and  firm,  being  in  the  essential  Son,  as 
the  foundation  of  it  ;  therefore  here  express- 
ed, as  bearing  the  whole  weight  of  this  hap- 
py fabric. 

Of  him  ye  are  in  Christ  Jesus.  The  life 
which  believers  derive  from  God  is  through 
him.  He  is  that  eternal  Word,  by  which  all 
things  were  made  in  their  first  creation,  and 
do  still  subsist.  Heb.  i.  ;  John  i.  And  he  is 
made  the  basis  of  the  second  creation,  in  v 


1  Co&.  i.  30.] 


SUMMARY  OF  SPIRITUAL  PRIVILEGES. 


537 


wonderful  way,  becoming  himself  a  crea'ure  ; 
and  so,  the  root  of  the  new  progeny  is  from 
heaven,  the  sons  of  God :  so  it  follows  in  both 
these  cited  scriptures.  John  i.  12-14.  The 
word  was  made  fesh,  and  so,  they  that  re- 
ceive him  are  made  the  sons  of  God.  And  so, 
Heb.  ii.  10,  11,  amply  and  excellently  is  that 
iLystery  unfolded.  The  first  franje  of  man, 
at  least  the  excellency  and  beauty  of  it,  was 
'jroken  by  his  fall  ;  therefore  a  new  model  is 
framed  of  a  selected  number,  to  be  a  new 
world,  more  firm  than  the  former,  united  un- 
to God  so  close,  as  never  to  be  severed  again. 
Man,  though  he  was  made  holy  and  God- 
like, continued  not  in  that  honor.  Now  God 
himself  becomes  a  man,  to  make  all  sure: 
that  is  the  foundation  of  an  indissoluble  union. 
Man  is  knit  to  God  in  the  person  of  Christ  so 
close,  thai  there  is  no  possibility  of  dividing 
them  any  rtiore  ;  and  this  union  of  our  naiure 
in  his  person  is  made  the  ground  of  the  union 
of  our  persons  with  God.  We  find  our  own 
flesh  catch  liold  in  Christ  of  a  man,  and  in  that 
man  may  find  God,  and  are  made  one  with 
him  by  faith  in  Christ.  And  this  all  the  pow- 
ers of  hell  can  not  dissolve.  Our  life  none 
can  cut  off  from  his,  more  than  a  man  can 
cut  a  beatn  from  off  the  sun.  We  are  and 
subsist  of  God  in  Christ.  This  is  an  unknown 
mystery,  but,  were  it  known,  it  would  prove 
a.  depth  of  rich,  inexhaustible  consolation. 
The  world  doth  not  know  what  Christians 
are.  This  is  no  wonder  ;  for  truly  they  know 
not  themselves,  or  but  very  litile.  How 
would  it  elevate  their  spirits,  but  not  in  pride  ! 
Oh  !  nothing  is  more  humbling  than  this,  as 
liie  apostle  here  implies.  But  it  would  raise 
them  above  the  world,  and  suit  their  desires 
and  their  actions  to  their  condition,  having 
all  under  foot  that  the  world  accounts  great, 
walking  as  heirs  of  heaven,  led  and  moved  by 
the  spi  '  of  Christ  in  them  ;  thinking,  when 
so/iciied  to  any  base  way.  how  doth  this  be- 
come the  sons  of  God  ?  Shall  one  who  lives 
in  Christ,  degrade  him  so  much,  as  to  borrow 
comfort  or  pleasure  from  any  sin,  for  the  kil- 
lii  gand  destruction  whereof  he  laid  down  his 
precious  life  ? 

Oh,  my  brethren,  that  this  divine  ambition 
w^re  kindled  in  your  breasts,  to  partake  of 
this  hiirh  and  happy  being,  and  leave  all  your ! 
pursuits  to  follow  this,  restless  till  you  be  in 
Christ  !  For  solid,  abiding  rest,  sure  I  am, 
out  of  him  there  is  none.  And  then,  being  in 
him,  renicmher  where  you  are,  and  what  you 
are.  Walk  in  Christ,  and  live  like  him,  as 
one  with  him  indeed:  let  his  thoughts  and 
desires  be  yours.  What  was  his  work,  yea, 
what 'his  refreshment,  his  meat  and  drink-? 
To  do  his  Father's  will.  Oh!  when  shall  we 
find  ourselves  so  minded,  as  the  Apostle's 
word  is,  the  same  mind  in  us  that  was  in 
Christ  ? 

Who  of  God  is  made  unto  us  wisdom.] 
Known  unto  God  are  all  hn  works  from  the 
be^innin'^r.    It  was  not  an  accidental  afier- 
device  in  God  (for  in  him  there  can  be  no 
68 


such  thing),  but  was  bis  great  forethought 
project,  out  of  the  ruins  of  man's  first  estate, 
to  raise  a  fairer  and  firmer  fabric,  new  from 
the  very  foundation.  And  in  the  new  foun- 
dation lies  the  model,  and  excellency,  and 
stability  of  the  whole  structure.  This  is  the 
choicest  of  all  his  works,  wherein  he  chiefly 
glories  ;  hk  masterpiece,  which  great  angels 
admire  ;  and  this  is  it,  u  ho  of  God  is  made 
unto  us  tvisdom.  And  this  is  one  letter  of  his 
name.  He  is  called  Wonderful,  who  is  here 
spoken  of :  so  all  is  wonderl'ul  in  this  work  : 
wonderful,  first,  that  he  should  be  made  any- 
thing, the  Maker  of  all  things  himself  made 
something  which  before  he  was  not ;  then 
made  to  us — that  he  should  be  made  any- 
thing to  our  interest  and  advantage,  who  are 
a  company  of  traitors  ;  and  made  unto  us  of 
God,  the  God  against  whom  we  rebelled  and 
continued  naturally  enemies  !  The  purpose 
was  bred  in  the  Father's  own  breast,  to 
give  out  his  Son,  thence  to  recover  us  and 
bring  us  back.  Oh,  astonishing  depth  of 
love!  Then,  made  unto  )/s  what  ?  Rather, 
what  not  ?  We  arc  made  up  in  hmi  fur  ev- 
er rich  and  happy  ;  he  being  made  all  unto 
us,  all  we  need,  or  can  desire,  wisdom,  righ- 
teousness, sanctificat  lon  and  redemption. 
Without  him,  we  are  undone,  forlorn  caitiffs, 
masses  of  misery,  as  you  say,  having  nothing 
either  in  us  or  on  ns,  nothing  but  poverty  and 
wretchedness,  blindness  and  nakedness,  alto- 
gether ignorant  of  the  way  to  happiness,  yea, 
ignorant  of  our  very  misery,  a  nest  of  fools, 
natural  fools,  children  of  folly  (as  they  who 
are  renewed  by,  and  provided  with,  this  wis- 
dom, are  called  children  of  wisdom),  guilty, 
filthy,  condemned  slaves. 

This  is  the  goodlf  posture  we  are  in,  out  of 
Christ  ;  yet,  who  is  se/isible  of  it  ?  IIow  few 
can  be  brought  to  serious  thoughts  about  it ! 
Nay,  are  not  the  most  in  the  niidst  of  this 
misery,  yet  full  of  high  conceits  of  their 
worth,  wit,  freedom,  &:c.  ?  As  frantic  bed- 
lamites, lying  naked  and  filthy  in  their  chains, 
yet  dream  they  are  great  and  wise  persons, 
commanding  and  ordering  all  about  them  ; 
fancying,  possibly,  that  they  are  kings,  a 
stick  in  their  hands  a  sceptre,  and  their  iron 
cha  ns  of  gold.  This  is  a  pleasinsr  madness 
!  for  the  time  ;  yet,  who  does  not  pity  it  that 
looks  on  ? 

Methinks  I  see  one  of  this  sort,  when  I  see 
one  evidently  destitute  of  Christ,  bearing  him- 
self bit  ui)on  the  fancy  of  his  parts,  and  birth, 
and  riches,  or  stoutness  ;  see  such,  upon  any 
cross  word,  swelling  against  others,  threat 
ening  high,  and  protesting  they  will  be 
slaves  to  none  ;  not  knowing  that,  even  while 
they  speak  thus,  thev  are  wretched  caitiffs, 
under  the  hardest  and  basest  kind  of  slavery. 
Inquire,  my  brethren,  if  ever  you  had  a  right 
and  clear  view  of  your  natural  misery  ;  oth 
erwise  you  are,  it  is  likely,  still  in  it,  an., 
though  you  profess  to  believe  in  Christ,  are 
not  yet  gone  out  of  yourselve  to  him,  and  not 
.  knowinc  your  crrpat  need  of  him,  do  certainlj 


SUMMiKY  OF  SPfHITUAL  PRIVIl.  ;:GES. 


[Ser.  XXIII. 


make  little  esteem  and  little  use  of  him.  You 
are  full,  and  reiiiii  u  tthoui  him  ;  all  is  well 
and  in  quiet  ;  but  it  is  owinqr  to  the  slroiii^ 
man's  yet  i)ossessins;  the  house,  and  keeping 
you  captives  as  quiet  as  lie  can,  that  you  look 
not  out,  or  cry  for  a  deliverer.  He  is  afraid 
of  him,  to  be  dispossessed  and  turned  out  by 
Him  who  is  stronger,  the  mighty  redeemer 
thaicameout  of  Zion.  Oh,  that  many  among' 
you  were  crying  to  him,  and  wailing  for  him, 
to  come  unto  you  for  your  rescue  ! 

Made  unto  us  wisdom,  ri <rhleousncss,. lancti- 
ficalion,  and  redemplton.]  To  supply  and 
help  all,  he  is  onr  magazine  whither  to  have 
recourse  to  :  for  this  end,  he  is  replenished 
with  a/l  the  fulness  of  God,  the  xery  fulness 
of  the  Godhead  dwelling  in  him,  the  Spirit 
being  not  •riven  to  him  hi)  measure.  He  is  fit 
to  be  made  our  wisdom,  who  is  the  wisdom  of 
the  Father  ;  as  here  in  this  place,  the  apos- 
tle lately  called  him,  the  wisdom  of  God.  In 
him  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and 
knowledge.  Col.  ii.  3.  They  that  find  him, 
and  come  unto  him,  find  it  so:  but  the  most 
look  but  on  the  surface  :  they  hear  his  name, 
and  know  not  what  is  under  it. 

Made  unto  us  righteousness.  Bv  fulfilling 
the  whole  law,  and  all  righteousness,  Matt, 
iii.  15,  and  yet.  suffering  the  rigor  of  it,  as  if 
he  had  transgressed  it.  No  guile,  no  spot 
was  found  on  him  :  he  was  holy,  harmless, 
nndefiled,  separate  from  sinners,  and  yet,  the 
greatest  sinner  by  imputation  :  The  Lord  laid 
an  him  the  iniquity  of  us  all,  Isa.  liii.  6.  And 
so.  Psalm  xl.  12,  which  is  prophesied  of  him  : 
Mine  iniquities  have  taken  hold  of  me.  He 
owns  them  as  his,  though  not  his.  He  en- 
dured all  that  justice  could  require,  entered 
and  paid  the  debt,  and  is  acquitted  and  set  ' 
free  again,  and  exalted  at  the  right  hand  of 
God.  So  it  is  evident  that  he  is  righteous, 
even  in  that  representative  and  sponsional  I 
person  he  put  on.  | 

Sanctification.  Christ  is  a  living  spring  of 
that  ;  anointed  above  his  fellows.  In  him  is 
no  mixture  of  any  iniquity.  The  Holy  Ghost 
descended  on  the  apostles  in  the  shape  of 
fire  ;  there  was  somewhat  to  be  purged  in  ! 
them  :  they  were  to  be  quickened  and  enabled 
by  it  for  their  calling.  But  on  him  it  de- 
scended as  a  dove:  there  was  no  need  of 
cleansing  or  purging  out  anything.  That 
was  a  symbol  of  the  spotless  purity  of  his  na- 
ture, and  of  the  fulness  of  the  Spirit  dwelling 
in  him. 

And  redemption.  Christ  is  mighty  to  save, 
and  having  a  right  to  save  :  a  kinsman  ;  a 
brother.    And  as  he  hath  bought  freedom  for 
sinners,  so,  he  will  put  them  in  possession 
of  It,  will  effect  and  complete  it.    All  that 
are  in  him,  are  really  delivered  from  thepow-  ' 
er  of  sin  and  death,  and  shall,  ere  long,  be  I 
perfectly  and  fully  so:  they  shall  be  lifted  up  | 
above  them,  no  longer  to  be  molested  with 
any  remainders  of  either,  or  with  the  fear  of 
them,  or  so  much  as  any  grief  for  them.  And  j 
that  day  is  called  the  dai,  of  redemption,  to  i 


which  we  are  beforehand  made  sure  and 
sealed  by  the  Spirit.  Ejihcs.  iv.  30. 

We  can  not  then  doubt  of  his  fitness  and 
fulness  to  be  these,  and  these  for  us;  bu: 
withal,  we  must  know  that  he  is  designed  so 
to  be  made  unto  us,  and  that  he  came,  and 
did,  and  suffered  all  for  this  purpose,  and 
having  done,  returned,  and  now  lives,  to  be 
these  to  us.  It  is  his  place  and  office,  and  so 
his  delight ;  he  loves  to  be  put  upon  the  per- 
formance of  this,  to  be  their  ivisdom  and 
righteousness.  Made  of  God  to  us.  It  is 
agreed  between  the  Father  and  him,  that  he 
should  be  so.  He  is  the  wisdom  of  God,  and 
made  of  God  our  wisdom.  Wonderful  I  that 
the  same  which  is  his  own  irisdom,  and  no 
less,  he  would  make  ours.  And  now,  under 
a  sense  of  all  our  ignorances  and  follies,  it 
becomes  us  to  go  to  him,  to  ap}^.y  ourselves 
to  him,  and  apply  him  to  us.  He  is  called 
our  Head,  and  called  so  most  fitly,  tor  it  is 
the  place  of  all  our  wisdom  ;  that  lies  in  our 
head.  And  so,  as  to  all  the  rest,  righteous- 
ness, sanctification,  and  redemption.  If  he 
be  righteousness  in  himself,  and  holy,  and 
victor  over  his  enemies,  and  set  free  from 
wrath  and  death,  then  are  we  so  too,  in  him  ; 
for  he  is  ours,  and  so  ours,  that  we  become 
what  he  is,  are  inrighted  to  all  he  hath,  and 
endowed  with  all  his  goods  ;  though  poor 
and  base  in  ourselves,  yet  married  to  him  ; 
that  is  the  title.  We  are  made  rich,  and  no- 
ble, and  free,  we  are  righteous  and  holy,  be- 
cause he  is.  Uxor  fulget  radiis  marili.  The 
ivife  shines  with  the  rays  of  her  husband.  All 
debts  and  pleas  are  taken  off,  he  stands  be- 
tween us  and  all  hazard,  and  in  him  we 
stand  acquitted  and  justified  before  God. 

That  which  makes  up  the  match,  and  ties 
the  knot  of  this  union,  is  faith.  He  is  made 
of  God  unto  us  wisdom,  righteousness,  &c. 
He  is  tendered  and  held  out  as  all  these,  in 
the  promise  of  the  gospel  ;  not  only  declared 
to  be  really  furnished  and  fit  so  to  be,  but  of- 
fered to  be  so,  and  we  warranted,  yea,  invi- 
ted and  entreated,  to  receive  him  as  such. 
But  he  is  effectually  made  to  be  this  to  us,  to 
me,  by  believing,  the  promise  being  brought 
home  and  applied  of  God,  and  faith  wrought 
in  the  heart  to  entertain  and  unite  to  him. 
*I1  TTiiTTit  iaonoui :  Faith  closes  the  bargain,  and 
makes  him  ours.  Now,  in  that,  he  is  made 
unto  us,  not  of  ourselves,  but  God,  for  that 
is  his  gift  and  work  :  we  can  not  believe,  any 
more  than  we  can  fulfil  the  whole  law.  And 
though  men  think  it  a  common  and  easy 
thinff,  to  accept  of  so  sweet  an  offer  at  so 
cheap  a  rate,  nothing  being  required  J)Ut  to 
receive  him,  yet,  this  is  a  thing  that  natural- 
ly all  refuse.  No  man  cometh,  says  he,  ex- 
cept the  Father  draw  him.  John  vi.  44. 
Though  men  bebeseeched  to  come,  yet,  the 
most  will  not  come  unto  him,  that  they  may 
have  life.  To  as  many  as  received  him,  he 
gave  the  privilege  to  become  the  so7is  of  God, 
John  i.  12;  and  yet,  for  all  that,  many  did 
not  receive  him ;  yea,  as  there  it  is  express* 


1  Cor.  ).  30.] 


SUMMARY  OF  SPIRITUAL  PRIVILEGES. 


ed,  He  Came  lo  his  oivn,  but  his  own  received 
him  not.  They  who  were  nearest  to  him  in 
natural  relation  and  interest,  yet  refused  him, 
for  the  mosi  pari,  and  attained  not  this  bless- 
ed spiritual  interest  in  him  unto  life. 

It  should  be  considered,  my  brethren,  Christ 
is  daily  held  out,  and  none  are  excluded  or 
excepted,  all  are  invited,  be  they  what  they 
will,  who  have  need  of  him  and  use  for  him  ; 
and  yei,  who  is  persuaded  ?  Oh,  \tho  hath 
bblieved  our  report  ?  One  hath  his  farm,  an- 
other his  oxen,  e.\ch  some  engagement  or  an- 
other. Men  are  not  at  leisure  for  Christ. 
Why  ?  You  think,  may  be,  you  have  re- 
ceived him.  If  it  be  so,  you  are  happy.  Be 
not  deluded.  Have  you  received  him  ?  Do 
you  find  him  then  living  and  ruling  within 
you  ?  Are  your  eyes  upon  him  ?  Do  you 
wait  on  him,  early  and  late,  to  see  what  his 
will  is  ?  Is  your  soul  glad  in  him  ?  Can 
you,  in  distress,  sickness,  or  poverty,  clasp  to 
him,  and  find  him  sweet,  and  allay  all  with 
this  thought,  However  things  go  with  me, 
yet,  Christ  is  in  me  ?  Doth  your  heart  cleave 
to  him?  Certainly,  if  he  be  in  you,  it  will 
be  thus ;  or,  at  least,  your  «nost  earnest  de- 
sire will  be,  that  it  may  be  thus. 

Men  will  not  believe  how  hard  a  matter  it 
is,  to  believe  the  fulness  and  sufficiency  of  Je- 
sus Christ,  till  they  be  put  to  it  in  earnest  to 
make  use  of  him,  and  then  they  find  it  ; 
when  sin  and  death  are  set  before  their  view, 
and  discovered  in  their  native  colors  unto  the 
soul,  when  a  man  is  driven  to  that,  What 
sha/l  I  do  to  he  saved?  then,  then  is  the 
time  to  know  what  notion  he  hath  of  Christ. 
And  as  the  difliculty  lies  in  this,  in  tJie  first 
awakening  of  the  conscience  from  sin,  so,  in 
after-times  of  temptation  and  apprehension 
of  wrath,  when,  upon  some  new-added  guilt- 
iness, or  a  new  sight  of  the  old,  in  a  /right- 
ful manner,  sin  revives  and  the  soul  dies,  it  is 
struck  dead  with  the  terrors  of  the  law — then 
to  keep  thy  hold,  and  find  another  life  in 
Christ,  the  law  and  justice  satisfied,  and  so 
the  conscience  quieted  in  him  :  this  is  indeed 
to  believe. 

It  is  a  thing  of  huge  diflficulty,  to  brine 
men  to  a  sense  of  their  natural  miserv,  to  see 
that  they  have  need  of  a  Savi(jr,  and  to  Ioc;k 
out  for  one  :  but  then,  beinir  brous-hl  to  that, 
it  is  no  less,  if  not  more  dif!i(-ult,  to  persuade 
them  that  Christ  is  he  ;  that,  as  they  have 
need  of  him,  so  they  need  no  more,  he  bein"- 
able  and  sufficient  for  them.  All  the  waver^ 
ings  and  fears  of  misbelieving  minds,  do 
spring  from  dark  and  narrow  apprehensions 
of  Jesus  Christ.  All  the  doubt  is,  not  of  their 
interest,  as  they  imagine:  they  who  sav  so, 
and  think  it  so,  do  not  perceive  the  bottom 
and  root  of  their  own  malady.  They  say, 
they  do  no  whit  ddubt  but  that  he  is  able 
enough,  and  his  righteousness  large  enough, 
bu'.  that  all  the  d(;ubt  is,  ;/  he  f>elon<r  to  me. 
N(,w,  I  >ay,  this  doubt  arises  from  a  defect 
and  doubt  of  the  former,  wherein  you  sus- 
pect it  not.    Why  doubtest  ihou  that  he  be- 


longs to  thee  ?  Dost  thou  flee  to  tiim,  as  lost 
and  undone  in  thyself?  Dost  thou  renounce 
all  that  can  be  called  thine,  and  seek  thy 
life  in  him  ?  Then  he  is  thine.  He  came  to 
seek  and  to  save  that  ivhich  tvas  lost.  Oh, 
but  I  find  so  much,  not  only  former,  but  still 
daily  renewed  and  increasing  guiltiness. 
Why,  is  he  a  sufficient  Savior,  or  is  he  not  ? 
If  thou  dost  say,  he  is  not,  then  it  is  mani- 
fest that  here  lies  the  defect  and  mistake.  If 
thou  sayest,  he  is,  then  hast  thou  answered 
all  thy  objections  of  that  kind  much  guilti- 
ness, much  or  little,  old  or  new,  neither  helps 
nor  hinders,  as  to  thy  interest  in  him  and  sal- 
vation by  him.  And  lor  dispelling  of  these 
mists,  nothing  can  be  more  effectual  than  the 
letting  in  of  those  gospel  beams,  the  clear 
expressions  of  bis  riches  and  fulness  in  the 
Scriptures,  and  eminently  this.  Made  of  God 
u  isdom,  righteousness,  sancttfication,  and  re- 
demptinn. 

\\'isdom.  Both  objectively  and  effectively. 
Objectively,  I  mean,  our  wisdom,  as  all  our 
wisdom  lies  in  the  right  knowledge  and  ap- 
prehension of  him.  And  this  suits  to  the 
apostle's  present  discourse.  The  Jews  would 
have  a  sign,  and  the  Gentiles,  wisdom  ;  but 
we,  says  he,  preach  Christ.  So,  ch.  ii.  2  :  7 
determined  to  know  nothijig,  save  Christ 
crucified.  He  was  learnedly  bred,  and  knew 
many  thini(s  beside,  much  of  nature,  and 
much  of  the  law;  but  all  this  was,  to  him, 
obsolete,  useless  stuff :  it  was  as  if  he  never 
had  heard  of  or  known  anything  else  but  Je- 
sus Christ.  We  may  know  other  things,  but 
this,  and  this  alone,  is  our  wisdom,  to  knoxu 
him,  and  him  crucijied.  Particularly,  we  may 
have  knowledge*  of  the  law,  and  by  it  the 
knowledge  of  sin  ;  but  in  relation  to  our 
standing  before  God,  and  so,  our  happiness, 
which  is  the  greatest  point  of  wisdom,  Jesus 
Christ  is  alone,  and  is  all.  And  the  more 
firmly  a  soul  eyes  Christ,  and  loses  all  other 
knowledge  and  itself  in  contemplating  him, 
the  more  truly  wise  and  heavenly  it  is. 

And  effectively  he  is  our  wisdom.  All  our 
right  knowledge  of  him  and  belief  in  him, 
flow  from  himself,  are  derived  from  him,  and 
sent  into  our  souls.  His  spirit  is  conveyed 
into  ours  ;  a  beam  of  himself,  as  of  the  sun. 
The  Sun  of  righteousness  is  not  seen  but  by 
his  own  light  ;  so  that  every  soul  that  is 
made  wise  unto  salvation,  that  is  brought  to 
apjirehend  Christ,  to  cleave  to  him,  and  re- 
pose on  him,  it  is  by  an  emission  of  Divine 
light  from  himself,  that  shows  him,  and 
leads  unto  him.  And  so  we  know  God  in 
him.  There  is  no  rigiit  knowledge  of  the 
Father  but  in  the  Son.  God  dwelling  in  the 
man,  Christ,  will  be  found  or  known  no- 
where else;  and  they  that  consider  and  wor- 
ship God  out  of  Christ,  do  not  kitow  or  wor- 
ship the  true  God  ;  but  a  false  notion  and 
fancy  of  their  own. 
j  The  Shechtnah,  the  habitation  of  the  Maj 
esty,  is  Jesus  Christ  ;  there  he  dwells  as  be 
\  tween  the  cherubims  over  the  mercy-seat 


$40 


SUMMARY  OF  SPIRITUAL  PRIVILEGES.  [Ser.  XXIIl 


To  apprrliend  God  so  as  to  love  l)im,  and 
trust  in  hill)  all  our  lifo,  to  hope  to  find  favor 
and  bliss  with  him,  this  is  the  only  wise 
knowledge  of  him.  Now,  this  alone  is  in 
Christ,  and  from  him.  He  contains  this  rep- 
resentation of  God,  and  gives  his  own  iiglit 
to  see  it.  So  that  a  Christian's  desire  should 
be,  in  relation  to  Jesus  Christ,  that  of  David 
in  reference  to  the  temple,  as  a  figure  of 
him.  One  thhig  have  1  desired  of  him,  and 
thai  will  I  seek  after,  that  J  may  diretl  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord  ;  that  I  may  get  in  to  Christ, 
to  kn(iW  God  there,  to  behold  the  beavty  of 
the  Lord.  There  we  see  beauty  indeed,  the 
Father's  glory,  and  so,  as  our  Father  lecon- 
ciled  to  us,  we  see  him  merciful  and  gra- 
cious. And  as  we  should  desire  to  behold, 
so,  still,  to  irujuire  in  his  temple,  to  advance 
in  the  knowledge  of  God,  studying  him  in 
Christ:  we  are  to  admire  what  we  see,  and 
to  seek  stili  to  see  more.  And  know,  that 
this  knowledge  of  God,  as  we  have  it  in 
Christ,  so  it  is  from  htm.  He  reveals  the 
Father:  he  came  from  his  bosom  for  that 
purpose.  We  can  not  believe  on  him,  can 
not  come  near  God  through  him,  but  as  he 
lets  forth  of  his  light,  to  conduct  and  lead  us 
in,  yea,  powerfully  to  draw  in,  for  his  light 
does  so.  Now,  knowing  and  apprehending 
him  by  his  own  light,  his  Spirit,  the  apostle 
clears  it,  that  this  is  our  wisdom,  by  those 
rich  titles  added,  according  to  which  we  fii>d 
him  to  us,  when  we  receive  from  him  that 
wisdom  by  which  we  apprehend  him  aright 
and  lay  hold  on  him,  then  made  unto  us  righ- 
teousness, sanctif  cation,  and  redemption. 

Righteousness.  This  doubtless  is  meant 
of  the  righteousness  by  which  we  are  justi- 
fied before  God.  And  he  is  made  this  to  us  : 
applied  by  faith,  his  righteousness  becomes 
ours.  That  exchange  made,  our  sins  are 
laid  over  upon  him,  and  his  obedience  put 
upon  us.  This  is  the  great  glad  tidings,  that 
we  are  made  righteous  by  Christ.  It  is  not 
a  righteousness  wrought  by  us,  but  given  to 
us,  and  put  ujuin  us.  This  carnal  reason  can 
not  comprehend,  and  being  proud,  therefore 
rejects  and  argues  against  it ;  says,  ILm  can 
this  thing  be  ?  But  faith  closes  with  it,  and 
rejoices  in  il.  Without  either  doing  or  suf- 
i'ering,  the  sinner  is  acquitted  and  justified, 
and  stands  as  guiltless  of  breach,  yea,  as 
having  fulfilled  the  whole  law.  And  happy 
they  who  thus  fasten  upon  this  righteous- 
ness! They  may  lift  up  their  faces  with 
gladness  and  boldness  before  God  ;  whereas 
the  most  industrious,  self-saving  justiciary, 
thouffh  in  other  men's  eyes  and  his  own,  pos- 
sibly, for  the  present,  he  makes  a  glittering 
show,  yet,  when  he  shall  come  to  be  exam- 
ined of  God,  and  tried  according  lo  the  law, 
he  sha.i  be  covered  with  shame,  and  con- 
founded in  his  f(jlly  and  guiltiness.  But  faiih 
tmrnphs  over  sclf-unworthiness,  and  sin,  and 
ieatli,  and  the  law,  shrouding  the  soul  under 
the  mantle  of  Jesus  Christ  ;  and  there  it  is 
•afft.     All  accusations  fall  off,  having  no- 


where to  fasten,  unless  some  blemish  could  be 
found  in  that  righteousness  in  which  faith  hath 
Wrapt  itself.  This  is  the  very  sjjring  of  solid 
peace,  and  fills  the  soul  with  peace  and  joy. 
But  still  men  would  have  something  within 
themselves  to  make  out  the  matter,  as  if  this 
robe  needed  any  such  piecing  :  and  not  find- 
ing what  tJiey  desire,  ihence  disquiet  and  un- 
settlement  of  mind  arise. 

True  it  is,  that  this  faiih  purifies  the  heart, 
and  works  holiness,  and  all  graces  How  from 
it ;  but  in  this  work  of  justifying  the  sinner 
it  is  alone,  and  can  not  admit  ol'any  mixture. 
As  Luiher's  resemblance  is,  "  Faith  is  as  the 
bride  with  Christ  in  the  bed-chamber  alone; 
but  when  she  cometh  forth,  hath  the  attend- 
ance and  train  of  other  graces  with  her." 
This  well  understood,  the  soul  that  believes 
on  Jesus  Christ,  will  not  let  go  for  all  defi- 
ciency in  itself;  and  yet,  so  resting  on  him, 
will  not  be  slothful  nor  regardless  of  any  du- 
ty of  holiness.  Yea,  this  is  the  way  to 
abound  in  all  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  first  to 
have  lha.t  wisdom  from  him,  rightly  to  appi^- 
hend  and  apply  him  as  our  righteousness, 
and  then  shall  we  find  all  furniture  of  grace 
in  him  ;  he  will  likewise  be  sanctif  cation. 
Say  not.  Unless  I  find  some  measure  of  sanc- 
tif cation,  what  right  have  I  to  apply  him  as 
my  righteousness  ?  This  inverts  the  order, 
and  disappoints  thee  of  both.  Thou  must  first, 
without  finding,  yea,  or  seeking  anything  in 
thyself  but  misery  and  guiltiness,  lay  hold 
on  him  as  thy  righteousness  ;  or  else  thou 
sbalt  never  find  sanctif  cation  by  any  other 
endeavor  or  pursuit. 

He  it  is  that  is  made  sanctif  cation  to  us, 
and  out  of  him  we  seek  it  in  vain.  Now, 
first  he  must  be  thy  righteousness,  before 
thou  find  him  thi/  sanctif  cation.  Simply  as 
a  guilty  sinner,  thou  must  flee  to  him  for 
shelter  :  and  then,  being  come  in,  thou  shalt 
be  furnished  out  of  his  fulness,  with  grace 
for  grace.  As  a  poor  man  pursued  by  the 
justiciary,  fleeing  to  a  strong  casile  for  safe- 
ty, and  being  in  it,  finds  it  a  rich  palace,  and 
all  his  wants  supplied  there. 

This  misunderstanding  of  that  method,  is 
the  cause  of  that  darkness  and  discomfort, 
and  withal  of  that  deadness  and  defect  of 
graces,  that  many  persons  go  drooping  under 
who  will  not  take  this  way,  the  only  straight 
and  sure  way  of  life  and  comfort.  Now, 

Sanctif  cation  he  is  to  us,  not  only  as  a  per- 
fect pattern,  but  as  a  powerful  principle.  It 
is  really  the  spirit  of  Christ  in  a  believer,  that 
crucifies  the  world,  and  purges  out  sin,  and 
forms  the  soul  to  his  likeness.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  be  holy,  not  being  in  him  ;  and  being 
truly  in  him,  it  is  as  impossible  not  to  be 
holy.  Our  pothering  and  turmoiling  without 
him  makes  us  lose  our  labor  ;  and  in  this 
point,  indeed,  little  wit  makes  much  labui . 

Redemption.  Sin  is  often  prevailing  even 
in  believers,  and  therewithal  discomforts  and 
doubts  arising,  as  it  can  not  otherwise  choose. 
Oh,  how  do  they  groan  and  sigh  as  caplivea 


Jf.r.  X.  23.  24.1 


THE  FOLLY 


OF  MAN.  &c. 


541 


still  to  the  law  of  sin  and  death  !  Well,  there 
is  in  our  Lord  Jesus  help  for  that  too.  He  is 
redemphon  ;  that  is,  the  complement  and  ful- 
ness of  deliverance.  The  price  he  paid  once 
for  all :  now  he  goes  on  to  work  that  deliver- 
ance bv  conquest,  which  he  bought  by  ran- 
som. It  is  going  on  even  when  we  feel  it 
not,  and  within  a  little  while  it  shall  be  per- 
fected, and  we  shall  see  all  the  host  of  our 
enemies  who  pursued  us,  as  Israel  saw  the 
Egyptians  lie  dead  upon  the  shore.  Courage  ! 
<hai  day  is  coming. 

And  all  this  is,  That  he  that  glories,  may 
glory  in  the  Lord.  Is  it  reasonable?  No 
self-rjlorying :  the  more  faith,  the  less  will 
there  be  still  of  that.  A  believ.€r  is  nothing 
in  himself :  all  is  Christ's,  Christ  is  his  all. 
That  treasurer  who,  being  called  to  an  ac- 
count, because  that  out  of  nothing  he  had  en- 
riched himsell  suddenly,  many  thought  he 
would  have  been  puzzled  with  it ;  but  he, 
without  being  much  moved,  next  morning 
came  before  the  king  in  an  old  suit  that  he 
wore  before  he  got  that  office,  and  said,  "  Sir, 
this  suit  on  my  ba^^k  is  mine,  but  all  the  re»t 
lb  thine."  So,  our  old  suit  is  ours,  all  the  rest 
Christ's,  and  he  allows  it  well.  And  in  the 
full  and  pure  glory  that  ascends  to  God  in 
this  work,  are  we  to  rejoice  more  than  in  the 
work  itself  as  our  salvation.  There  is  an 
humble  kind  of  boasting  that  becomes  a  Chris- 
tian. My  soul  shall  glory  (or  make  her  hoasl) 
in  Gor/,  says  David,  a//  the  daylong.  "What 
was  I  before  I  met  with  Christ,"  thinks  a  be- 
liever, "  and  now  what  am  I  ?"  And,  upon 
that  thought,  he  wonders  and  loves.  But 
most  of  the  wonder  is  yet  to  come  ;  for  he 
conceives  but  little  what  we  shall  be. 


SERMON  XXIV. 

T»o    rOLLY  OF  MAN,    AND  THE   TEACHING  OF 
GOD. 

Jeremiah  x.  23,  24. 

O  Lord,  I  know  that  the  way  of  man  is  not  in  him- 
spIC:  it  is  not  in  man  that  walketh,  to  direct  his 
steps. 

0  Lord,  correct  me,  but  with  jiidijmont  ;  not  in  thine 
anger,  li'st  thou  bring  me  to  nothing. 

It  can  not  be  expressed  what  an  advantage 
a  heart  acquainted  with  God  hath,  in  all  the 
revolutions  and  changes  of  the  world,  when 
it  turns  unto  hitn,  and  gives  vent  to  its  griefs 
and  desires  into  his  bosom,  and  so  finds  ease. 
This  the  prophet  does  here:  after  the  de- 
nouncing of  a  heavy  judgment,  he  turns  tow- 
ard hitn  from  whom  he  brought  that  message, 
to  entreat  for  them  to  whom  he  brought  it. 
After  a  very  sad  close  of  his  sermon,  he  adds 
this  short  but  very  sweet  prayer;  presents 
himself,  and  speaks  in  that  style,  as  repre- 
senting the  whole  people  :  Correct  rne,  0 
Lord;  he  makes  their  calamity,  as  it  w«re, 
all  his  own;  bears  their  person,  and  presents 


his"  petition  for  them  in  his  own  name.  The 
prophets,  though  they  could  not  but  applaud 
and  approve  the  justice  of  God  who  sent  them, 
in  the  harshest  news  they  brousht,  yet,  with- 
al, could  not  be  insensible  to  the  miseries  of 
his  people  ;  and  so  we  find  them  tnixing  pa- 
thetical  complaints  and  prayers  for  them, 
with  the  predictions  of  judgments  against 
them. 

Observe.  And  thus  are  all  his  faithful  min- 
isters aff'ected  toward  his  church.  The  Lord 
himself  is  pleased  to  express  a  kind  of  regret, 
sometimes,  in  the  punishing  of  them  ;  as  the 
tender-liearted  father  feels  the  lashes  he  lays 
on,  though  highly  deserved  by  the  stubborn- 
ness of  his  children.  Hoiv  shall  I  give  thee 
up,  Ephrairn  ?  Hoiv  shall  I  deliver  thee,  Is- 
rael? How  shall  1  make  thee  as  Admah? 
How  shall  I  make  thee  as  Zehoim  ?  My  heart 
IS  turned  xvithin  me,  my  rcpenlings  are  kin- 
dled together.  Hosea  xi.  8.  So  it  well  be- 
comes his  servants  to  be  thus  affected  when 
they  deliver  sad  news  to  his  people,  to  return 
praying  for  them  ;  thus  going  as  angels  be- 
tween heaven  and  earth,  beseeching  the  peo- 
ple to  return  unto  God,  and  beseeching  God 
to  return  to  his  people,  and  spare  them. 

The  prophet,  in  this  prayer,  first  premises 
a  position  suiting  his  purpose,  and  then,  upon 
that,  presents  his  supplication.  The  position 
he  lays,  to  make  a  double  benefit  of  it  in  or- 
der to  his  petition.  It  is  both  a  sure  ground 
for  himself  to  stand  on,  and  a  fit  argument  to 
move  God  by.  Thus  it  is,  and  thus  he  in- 
tends and  uses  it,  at  once  to  support  his  own 
faith,  and  to  work  on  the  goodness  of  God  by 
it.  Beside  the  fitness  of  the  truth  itself  for 
both  these  ends,  we  find  some  print  of  both 
in  the  very  way  of  expressing  it,  O  Lord,  I 
know  that  the  tray  of  man  is  not  in  himself, 
so  expressing  both  his  own  persuasion  of  tne 
truth  of  it,  /  know,  and  representing  it  to 
God  as  a  fit  truth  to  urge  his  suit  by,  O  Lord, 
I  know. 

Observe.  A  great  part  of  the  strength  and 
art  of  prayer,  lies  in  this  :  first,  to  have  the 
mind  furnished  with  fit  conceptions  of  God, 
and  established  in  the  firm  persuasions  of 
them;  in  that  is  much  of  the  strength  of 
prayer:  then,  fitly  to  call  up  and  use  these 
conceptions  and  persuasions  for  our  own  sup- 
porting and  prevailing  with  God  ;  in  that  lies 
the  art  of  it. 

We  possibly  think  that  we  do  suflTiciently 
believe  both  the  goodness  and  power  of  God, 
especially  his  power,  none  suspecting  himself 
of  the  least  doubt  of  it ;  yet  our  perplexing 
doubts  and  fears,  our  feeble  staggerings  in 
faith  and  prayer,  upon  particular  ])ressing  dif- 
ficulties, discover  evidently  a  defect  here, 
though  still  we  will  not  own  it.  And  alas! 
how  little  faculty  have  we  in  the  most  need- 
ful times,  to  rest  on  his  strength,  and  to  stir 
up  ourselves  to  stir  him  up  by  prayer,  to  do 
for  us,  holding  firm  to  that  great  point  of  his 
absolute  sovereignty  and  |)ov/er  over  all 
things,  and  holding  it  up  to  him,  entreating 


542 


THE  FOLLY  OF  MAl^, 


[Ser.  XXIV. 


him  hy  it  to  appear  and  work  for  us.  Lord,  it  ! 
IS  in  thy  liand  ;  iliat  I  know,  and  ihai  is 
enough  to  tne  :  thy  ffood  will  I  dare  irust. 
(For  there  is  implied  a  secret  conlidenee  of 
that.)  This  contents  ine,  ihai  thou  hast  full 
power  ot  the  business.  That  is  the  thing 
which  here  the  prophet  fixes  on.  O  Lord,  I 
know  that  the  way  of  man  ix  not  in  himself. 
y.  d.  As  there  is  in  us  no  power  to  turn  off 
the  judgment  determined,  all  our  wit  and 
strength  can  do  nothing  to  that,  so  we  are  sure 
there  is  no  power  in  our  enemies  to  do  any- 
thing either  beyond  or  beside  thy  appoint- 
ment, in  the  execution  of  it.  And  upon  this, 
Lord,  we  come  to  su|)plicnte  thee  for  mitiga- 
tion. With  men  it  often  falls  out,  either  in 
just  punishments,  or  unjust  oppressions,  that 
the  ministers  and  under-oflicers  do  exceed 
their  commission,  and  overdo  their  business  ; 
yea,  sometimes  add  little  less  of  their  own, 
than  all  that  comes  to  which  is  appointed  to 
them.  But  with  thee,  0  Lord,  it  is  not  so. 
As  our  enemies  can  not  stir  of  themselves 
without  order  from  thee,  and  as  thy  commis- 
sions are  always  all  just,  so  thou  seest  to  the 
perft)rmance,  art  present  at  it,  wjiich  often 
men  can  not  be  ;  and  so  nothing  is,  or  can  be, 
done  beside  thy  notice  and  allowance. 

L  His  position  is  this:  The  way  <»/  man  is 
not  in  himself,  and  repeated  more  jilainly,  II 
is  not  in  man  that  u  alketh  to  direct  his  steps  ; 
thus,  by  a  double  negation,  putting  it  alto- 
gether out  of  his  power.  And  under  this,  the 
positive  truth  is  couched,  that  the  absolute 
disposal  of  all  the  ways  of  man  is  wholly  in 
the  supreme  hand  of  God  ;  according  to  that, 
Prov.  XX.  24,  Man''s  goings  are  of  the  Lord  ; 
how  can  a  man,  then,  understand  his  own  way  ? 
He  doth  not  certainly  know  anything  of  his 
o-'^n  doings.  Even  he  who  seems  to  know 
moat,  to  advise  and  deliberate  upon  all  he 
does,  yei  hath  no  power  of  his  contrivements, 
knows  not  which  way  they  will  turn,  till  the 
event  doth  clear  it,  and  even  then,  on  looking 
back,  is  often  amazed  at  the  strange  course 
of  things,  so  far  different  from,  and  possibly 
contrary  to  all  his  witty  projectings  and  mod- 
els. He  often  does  not  attain  his  oim,  but  he 
never  fails  to  accomplish  God's  purpose,  even 
when  his  intentions  are  least  from  it,  yea, 
when  they  are  most  against  it.  Let  us  luild 
a  tower,  said  they,  lest  we  be  scattered  abroad. 
Gen.  xi.  ;  and  that  was  the  very  thing  which 
caused  their  scattering.  Joseph  was  sold  by 
his  brethren,  that  thej,'  might  not  boxo  before 
him,  as  he  had  dreamed  :  and  this  brought  it  to 
pass.  Pharaoh  says,  Ze<  us  deal  wisely  ;  and 
that  way  of  opi)ressing  them,  lest  they  should 
go  away,  both  stirred  up  God  to  deliver  them, 
and  disp(^sed  them  to  depart.  And  not  to  mul- 
tiply instances,  generally  in  all  the  ways  of 
men,  they  have  their  designs  at  most  times 
eccentric  to  God's,  but  his  design  holds  al- 
ways, and  theirs  no  further  than  they  are 
lis.  Have  we  not  ourselves  seen  instances 
of  this  ? 

Man  consults  and  determines  freely,  yei' 


even  those  inward  actings  of  the  mind  and 
will,  are  ordered  and  framed  by  the  hand  of 
God  :  and  it  can  not  otherwise  be.  It  is  a 
most  vain  fancy,  to  imagine  that  anything  in 
this  is  inconsistent  with  the  natural  liberty  oi 
the  will,  or  that  any  such  liberty  can  he  in 
any  creature,  as  consists  not  with  his.  But 
because  in  these  inward  actings,  man  finds 
himself  more  at  his  choice,  though  all  is  se- 
cretly overruled,  and  in  the  event  of  things, 
God's  sovereign  disposal  is  more  legible ; 
therefore,  these  two  are  expressed  with  some 
kind  of  difference.  Proverbs  xvi.  9:  A  man''s 
heart  deriseth  his  leay,  but  the  l,ord  directs 
his  steps.  That  is,  when  he  hath  devised, 
that  does  not  carry  it:  he  may  devise  and 
fancy  things  twenty  ways,  and  tliink  he  is  ta- 
king freely  his  own  course,  but  he  shall  find 
in  the  issue  another  hand  than  his  own.  It 
is  not  m  man  that  walks,  as  the  word  is  here  ; 
he  walketh,  and  yet  the  direction  of  his  steps 
is  in  another  hand.  But  in  the  devisings,  too, 
the  Lord  so  acts  upon  man,  that  he  is  turned 
which  way  it  pleaseth  him.  Everi  the  heart, 
and  that  of  the  most  uncontrolled,  the  most 
impetuous  torrent,  the  king^s  heart  is  in  his 
hand,  as  the  rivers  of  waters  :  he  tvrneth  it 
whithersoever  he  will,  Proverbs  xxi.  1.  When 
men  either  determine  themselves,  or  follow 
imallowed  ways  for  determination  (as  those, 
Ezek.  xxi.  21),  yet  are  they  ordered  of  God. 
This  he  does  infallibly  and  uncontrollably,  yet 
in  such  a  way  as  there  is  nothing  distorted  or 
violented.  Fortiter  et  svaviter — all  is  so 
done.  Things  are  in  their  own  course,  and 
men  are  in  their  voluntary  choice  ;  yet,  all 
subserving  the  great  Lord,  and  his  ends,  and 
his  glory,  who  made  them  all  for  himself: 
as  the  lower  orbs  have  each  their  motion,  but 
are  all  wheeled  about  with  the  first.  Men 
know  not  what  he  is  doing  by  them,  and 
what  in  the  end  he  will  do  with  them.  With 
the  rod  of  Assyria  he  scourges  his  children, 
and  then  throws  the  rod  in  the  fire.  Isa.  x.  5 
and  16.  The  horseleech  draws  the  blood  to 
fill  itself,  but  the  physician  intends  the  pa- 
tient's health.  Men  are  drawn  on  by  tempo- 
ral prosperings  and  successes  to  drive  proudly 
and  furiously,  till  they  drive  themselves  over 
the  edge  of  the  precipice  appointed  for  their 
ruin  ;  and  all  his  exalting  inem  for  a  season, 
is,  in  the  end,  to  exalt  himself  in  their  great- 
er and  more  remarkable  destruction.  I  will 
get  me  a  name  upon  Pharaoh,  and  all  his  host. 
Men  are  busv,  consulting  or  acting  with  or 
against  one  another,  and  he  sits  and  laughs  at 
their  wisest  plots:  he  alone  is  in  all  affairs, 
doing  all  his  own  will  in  heaven  and  in 
earth. 

Oh  !  the  folly  and  blindness  of  men,  who 
think  to  carry  all  to  their  minds,  and  walk  as 
masters  of  their  own  designs,  and  never  have 
any  serious  thought  of  him  in  whose  hands 
both  they  and  all  their  business,  and  all  the 
affairs  of  states  and  kingdoms  of  this  world, 
are  as  a  piece  of  wax.  to  frame  them  to  what 
he  pleases — he  who  destroys  the  counsels  of 


1 


Jek.  X.  23,  24.] 


AND  THE  TEACHING  OF  GOD. 


54^ 


the  wise,  and  makes  the  diviners  mad,  who 
pnurs  contempt  vpon  princes,  leads  counsel- 
lors aioai/  spoiled,  and  maketh  the  judges 
fools  ;  he  who  hath  sel  limits  to  all  things,  to 
the  rasins^  of  the  sea,  making  the  small  sand 
give  check  to  the  great  ocean  :  when  it  brake 
out  of  the  wo'nh.  he  had  a  cradle  provided  for 
It,  and  swaddling-bands,  Job  xxxviii.,  and 
there,  though  it  rolls  to  and  fro,  yet  it  can  not 
get  out.    Oh  !  it  is  ignorance  of  God  makes 
men  rush  on,  and  not  inquire  whether  he  be 
with  ihem  or  no.   Moses  was  wise  and  stout, 
and  leader  of  a  numerous  people,  yet  he 
would  not  stir  on  other  terms  :  If  thou  s;o  not 
icith  us.  let  us  not  S'o  up  hence.  Well,  if  men 
will  on  their  peril,  be  it ;  let  us  reverence  God. 
For  even  this  is  for  him,  and  he  will  gain  his 
glory  out  of  it.    The  way  of  man  is  not  in 
himself.    If  we  see  their  folly,  let  us  learn  to 
be  wiser,  to  keep  close  to  him,  and  desire  his 
cracious  direction  to  our  ways  ;  for  it  is  not 
in  our  hands,  even  when  we  intend  best.  And 
for  public  affairs,  let  us  rest  satisfied  in  his 
part.    Amid  all  disorders,  he  is  ordering  all 
wisely  and  justly,  and  to  them  who  love  him, 
graciously  ;  therefore  we  ousht  not  to  be  dis- 
mayed.   Let  us  calm  our  thoughts  with  this, 
remember  who  it  is  that  rules  all,  and  dis- 
poses of  peace  and  war,  and  all  affairs,  and 
we  can  not  wish  them  in  a  better  hand.  I 
am  persuaded  that  in  all  the  commcnions  of 
ilie  World,  wben  a  believer  thinks  on  this,  it 
ran  not  but  calm  and  compose  his  spirit  ex- 
ceedingly:  My  Fdthrr  rules  all.    Let  this  so 
quiet  our  fears,  as  that  withal  it  quicken  our 
prayers,  and  stir  us  up  to  the  work  of  this 
day — repentant,  humble,  seeking  unto  God  ; 
seeing  all  is  in  his  hands,  our  peace,  our  lih- 
eriies,  and  our  enemies,  that  threaten  to  be- 
reave us  of  both.    Oh  !  that  the  eff'ect  of  all 
our  troubles  and  dangers  were  lo  drive  us 
more  to  God,  to  make  us  throng  more  about 
the  throne  of  grace,  n  draw  forth  our  King 
for  our  help  !   Oh,  our  impenitence  and  unre- 
formedness  !    That  turns  him  to  be  our  ene- 
my, and  that  only.    Men  are  nothing.  An<l 
now,  in  so  great  straits,  yet  so  little  calling 
on  him  !    Oh,  my  brethren,  what  are  we 
doing?   Oh  !  pray,  pray.    It  is  our  God  that 
commands  all,  and  we  may  say  it  upon  his 
own  warrant,   it  is  prayer  that  commands 
him. 

II.  The  petition  :  Correct  me,  &c.  When 
the  hand  of  God  is  stretched  out  against  a 
people  or  a  person,  certainly  there  is  no  run- 
ning frfim  him.     7'he  only  wise  and  safe 
course  is,  to  run  unto  him.    This  the  prophet 
does  in  behalf  of  his  people,  and  by  his  ex- 
ample teaches  them  so  to  do.  As  the  prophet 
utters  his  own  sense  and  desires  in  this  pray- ' 
er,  so  he  sets  it  as  a  copy  to  the  people 
of  God  in  time  of  ju{lgment  to  pray  by; 
shows  them  the  war,  which  is,  not  vainly  to 
ottV-r  to  flee  fnirri  liim,  or  proudly  to  stand  out 
against  him,  to  their  undoing,  but  to  humble  ' 
themselves  under  his  mighty  liand,  supplica-  [ 
ing  him,  yielding  themselves,  and  begging  | 


quarter.  Correct  me,  0  Lord,  with  Judg- 
ment, not  in  an^er,  lest  thou  bring  me  to  noth- 
ing. That  I  should  suff'er  for  my  rebellion, 
there  is  good  reason  ;  yet.  Lord,  do  not  ut- 
terly destroy  me,  which  will  be,  if  the  weight 
of  thine  anger  fall  upon  me.  And  for  that, 
though  indeed  we  have  deserved  it,  vet  there 
is  another  vent  for  it,  and,  pardon  us  to  say 
so,  fitter  matter  for  it :  Pour  out  thy  wrath 
upon  the  heathen:  ver.  25:  let  it  go  out  that 
way.  So  we  see  the  supplication  hath  these 
two  particulars  in  it,  an  aversion  and  diver- 
sion ;  an  aversion  of  the  anger  of  God  upon 
his  own  people  under  correction,  and  a  diver- 
sion of  it  upon  his  and  their  enemies;  Lord, 
turn  from  us,  and  pour  it  out  there.  The 
aversion  is  presented  qualified  with  an  hum- 
ble submission,  declaring  expressly  they  de- 
cline not  that  correction  of  God,  but  only 
deprecate  his  consuming  anger.  Correct  me, 
O  Lord,  but  with  jud^-ment,  that  is,  with 
measure :  such  as  the  discretion  and  love  of 
a  father  resolves  on  toward  a  child.  Thus 
much  will  I  correct  him  lor  his  good,  and  no 
further. 

Not  in  thine  anger.  God  is  pleased  to  ex- 
press his  displeasure  against  sin  by  wrath  and 
anger,  even  toward  his  own  children.  But 
the  anger  which  here  the  prophet  entreats 
exception  from,  for  the  church,  is  anger  op- 
posed to  judgment,  unbounded,  destroying 
anger,  that  knows  no  limits  nor  stop,  but  the 
devouring  of  those  against  whom  it  is  kin- 
dled. This  is  spoken  in  our  language,  hut  it 
is  lo  be  understood  in  a  way  suiting  the  pu- 
rity of  God.  In  him  truly  is  no  passion  at 
all,  much  less  any  that  is  not  ordered  by  wis- 
dom and  judgment.  He  is  not  carried  in  heat 
beyond  his  purposed  measure,  but  knows  well 
how  far  he  intends  to  go  wiih  any,  and  goes 
no  farther.  But  as  his  anger  means  his  just 
punishing  of  sin,  so  his  unlimited  anger  sig- 
nifies no  other  than  his  just  proceeding  in 
punishment,  to  the  utter  destruction  of  inflex- 
ible sirmers ;  and  to  this  is  opposed  here,  his 
correcting  with  jud'j;rnent,  that  is,  in  a  fa- 
therly, gracious  moderation,  such  as  does  not 
utterly  ruin  and  cut  off,  but  indeed  reclaims 
and  converts  sinners  unto  him. 

Tliis  submission  and  yieldance  to  a  meas- 
ured correction,  is  a  thing  most  reas(jnable: 
they  that  know  anything  aright  of  themselves 
and  God,  will  not  refuse  it. 

First,  reflectina:  on  their  own  sinfulness, 
which  when  truly  discovered,  even  where 
there  is  least,  yei  is  there  enough  of  it  to  jus- 
tify even  utter  destruction.  Therefore  have 
we  good  reason  unrepiningly  to  receive  such 
moderate  correction  from  the  hand  of  God  as 
he  thinks  fit,  and  to  W(jnder  that  it  is  no 
more.  It  is  one  true  character  of  repentance 
under  the  rod,  to  accept  the  punishment  of 
our  iniquity,  to  have  our  untamed  spirits 
brought  low,  tostoop  to  God,  to  acknowledge 
our  punishment  to  be  far  less  than  our  ini 
quiiy,  and  that  it  is  of  his  <jo(jdness  that  w 
are  not  consumed,'  a.s  the  church  confesses 


M4 


THE  FOLLY  OF  MAN,  fee. 


[Sm.  XXIV 


Lam.  iii.  22.  Though  \vv  fei'l  it  heavy,  and 
the  measure  hard,  yet  sell'-knowledgc  and 
conscience  of  sin  will  hiy  the  soul  low,  and 
make  it  ([uiet,  so  that  it  will  say  nothing,  or 
if  any  ihing,  it  will  he  confession  of  its  own  ■■ 
guiltiness  and  the  rigiiteousness  of  Cxod  ;  still 
clearing  him  in  ail.,  as  it  is,  Psalm  li.  4,  and 
using  that  other.  Psalm  cxix.  137  ;  whatso- 
ever is  so  inflicted,  Rii>htcous  art  thou,  O 
Lord,  and  just  are  thy  judgments.  Which 
words  a  good  king  used,  being  put  in  prison, 
and  hardly  dealt  with.  So  the  psalmist. 
Psalm  xxxviii.  3  :  There  is  no  soundness  in 
my  flesh,  because  of  thine  anger  ;  neither  is 
there  any  rest  in  my  hones,  because  of  my 
sin.  He  justifies  God's  anger  by  his  own 
sin.  Thus  Daniel  makes  conl'essicn  for  this 
peoj)le,  under  the  very  captivity  here  threat- 
ened, when  it  had  lasted  out  the  full  term. 
See  Dan.  ix. 

And  knowing  our  sin,  ought  we  not  to  al- 
low God  the  clearing  of  his  own  justice,  his 
purity  and  hatred  of  sin,  in  punishing  it? 
And,  possibly,  he  will  punish  sin  most  exem- 
plarilv  here,  in  those  who  are  nearest  him, 
his  own  people  and  children  ;  he  can  least 
endure  it  there.  This,  especially,  when  we 
consider  his  sovereignty  and  greatness,  that 
he  is  tied  to  no  account  of  his  actings;  and 
though  we  did  not  see  so  clear  reason  for  our 
sufferings  in  our  deservings,  there  is  reason 
enough  in  his  will.  And  this,  well  consid- 
ered, would  bring  us  to  much  humble  sub- 
mission in  all.  /  u'as  dumb,  says  David,  / 
opened  not  my  rnovth,  because  thou  didst  it. 
Psalm  xxxix.  9.  The  bishop  of  Troyes  meet- 
ing Attila  marching  toward  the  city,  asked 
who  he  was.  I  am,  said  he,  the  scourge  of 
God.  Upon  this,  he  set  open  the  gates  to 
him  ;  but  God  marvellously  restrained  the 
soldiers  in  that  city. 

But  yet  further,  as  our  own  guiltiness,  and 
God's  righteousness  and  greatness,  plead  for 
this  compliance  with  his  chastisements,  so 
even  his  goodness,  and  our  own  profit  in  them. 
There  is  in  his  chastising  of  his  own  people 
very  much  mercy,  that  they  may  not  be  con- 
demned icitk  the  world.  1  Cor.  xi.  32.  Their 
afflictions  have  a  secret  stamp  of  love  on 
them  :  By  this  is  the  ini(jui/y  of  Jacob  purged, 
&c.  He  purifies  a  people  in  his  furnace,  that 
they  may  be  holy  unto  him  ;  gives  his  own 
many  sweet  experiences  of  secret  support  and 
comfort  in  allliciion,  and  seasonable  delivery 
out  of  it,  and  brings  them  forth  with  advan- 
tage. The  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness. 
Heb.  xii.  11.  He  bumbles  and  purges  a  peo- 
ple, or  a  person,  by  his  rods,  and  prepares 
them  for  greater  mercies,  to  enjoy  them  both 
more  sweetiv  and  usefully  :  renews  his  cove- 
nant and  the  mutual  endearments  of  love  be- 
tween himself  and  his  people,  according  to 
the  gracious  promises  made  to  his  people,  in 
relation  to  ibis  very  judgment  here  threat- 
ened, and  after  inflicted  on  them.  See  Isaiah 
liv. ;  Ezek.  xxxvi. 

We,  possibly,  think  it  strange  that  our 


pressures  and  troubles  still  continue,  and  rath- 
er grow  upon  us  than  abaie  :  but  we  judge 
not  wisely  concerning  this,  ibe  most  part 
cursing  and  repining,  others  falling  into  a 
dead,  hopeless  stupidness,  not  caring  wha 
becomes  of  things.  But  our  best  course  were, 
to  turn  lo  him  who  smites  us,  to  acknowl- 
edge our  rebellions  and  his  justice,  to  eye 
men  less,  and  God  more,  in  our  suflerings, 
and  to  confess  that  our  provocations  exceed 
all  that  is  come  upon  us;  to  fall  down  hum- 
bly before  God,  and  take  submissively  his 
chastisement,  saying.  Correct  me,  O  Lord, 
but  with  judgment  ;  and  wiih  the  church,  1 
icill  bear  the  indignation  of  the  Lord,  because 
I  have  sinned  against  him.  Mic.  vii.  9. 

Thus,  likewise,  in  private  personal  correct- 
ings,  let  us  learn  lo  behave  ourselves  meekly 
and  humbly,  as  the  children  of  so  great  and 
good  a  Father  ;  whatsoever  he  inflicts,  not  to 
murmur,  nor  entertain  a  fretful  thought  of  it. 
Besides  the  undutifulness  and  unseemliness 
of  it,  how  vain  is  it!  What  gain  we  hy 
struggling  and  casting  up  our  hand  to  cast 
off  the  rod,  but  the  more  lashes?  Our  only 
way  is,  to  kneel  and  fold  under  bis  hands,  and 
kiss  his  rod,  and,  even  while  he  is  smiting  us, 
to  be  blessing  him,  sending  up  confessions  of 
his  righteousness,  and  goodness,  and  faithful- 
ness, only  entreating  for  the  turning  away  of 
his  wrath,  though  it  should  be  with  the  con- 
tinuing of  our  affliction.  That  is  here  the 
style  of  the  prophet's  prayer.  Correct  me,  0 
Lord,  but  not  in  anger.  Anci,  according  to 
this  suit,  even  where  troubles  are  chastise- 
ments for  sin,  yet  a  child  of  God  may  find 
much  sweetness,  reading  much  of  God's  love 
in  so  dealing  with  him,  in  not  suffering  him 
lo  grow  wanton  and  forget  him,  as,  in  much 
ease,  even  his  own  children  sometimes  do. 
And  as  they  may  find  much  of  God's  love  to 
them  in  sharp  corrections,  they  may  raise  and 
act  much  of  their  love  to  him  in  often-repeat- 
ed resignments  and  submissions  of  them- 
selves, and  ready  consenting  to,  yea,  rejoicing 
in  his  good  pleasure,  even  in  those  things 
which  to  their  flesh  and  sense  are  most  un- 
pleasant. 

Now,  to  the  petition,  the  averting  of  his 
anger.  That  is  the  great  request  of  them 
who  know  and  fear  him  :  and  there  is  high 
reason  for  it.  The  heaviest  suflerings  are 
liffht  without  it,  but  the  least  ingredient  of 
that  adds  inexpressible  weight  to  the  small- 
est affliction.  This  was  the  thing,  it  is  likely, 
which  made  the  visage  of  death  so  sad  to 
holy  men  in  Scripture,  David,  Hezekiah,  Jfc., 
that  in  those  times  it  had  some  character  of 
God's  anger  against  them  upon  it ;  came  to 
them  as  a  messenger  of  displeasure.  So  a 
thing,  small  in  itself,  may  be  a  great  cur'se. 
To  be  cast  o.ut  unburied  is  no  greal  matter. 
Natural  men  sliafht  it :  Ccelo  tegitur,  qui  nan. 
habet  urnam.  There  is  little  difference,  to  lie 
eaten  of  beasts  above  ground,  or  of  worms 
beneath.  Yet,  when  foretold  to  a  man  as  a 
judgment  denounced  from  God,  as  against 


IsA.  XXX.  15 — 16.] 


MERCY  DESPISED,  &c. 


545 


that  king,  Jeremiah  xxii.  19,  it  hath  its  own  [ 
weight,  carrying  some  stamp  of  God's  despi- 
sing him.  And  though  a  man  feels  it  not 
when  it  is  done,  yet  he  feels  it,  looking  on  it  ' 
beforehand,  especially  as  threatened  of  God  ;  ' 
sees  himself,  as  it  were,  dragged  about  and  | 
torn.  1 

Now,  if  any  little  particular  cross,  marked 
with  God's  present  anger,  becomes  so  heavy, 
how  much  more  is  his  abiding,  prolonged 
wrath,  the  thing  here  spoken  of — anger,  to 
which  no  bound  is  set !  That,  says  he,  in  the  ' 
name  of  his  people,  would  bring  me  to  naught. 
There  is  no  standing  before  it ;  it  will  make  [ 
the  stoutest  and  proudest  to  shake,  yea,  ; 
shakes  them  to  pieces.  If  the  wrath  of  a  j 
king  be  to  meaner  men  as  the  roaring  of  a 
lion  (Prov.  xix.  12),  how  much  more  terrible, 
even  to  kings  themselves,  is  the  wrath  of 
God  !  This  great  King  whose  voice  shakes 
the  mountains,  and  makes  the  earth  to  trem- 
ble, armies  of  terrors  and  deaths  are  nothing 
to  a  look  of  his  angry  countenance.  //'  he 
withdraw  not  his  anger,  the  proud  helpers 
stoop  under  him.  Job  ix.  13.  The  helpers  of 
pride,  the  great  Atlases  of  the  world,  who 
are  thought  to  bear  up  all,  those  who,  for  their 
wit  and  power,  are  thought  the  supporters 
of  the  kingdoms,  how  soon  are  they  crushed 
to  pieces  by  a  touch  of  this  anger  of  God, 
and  perish  at  the  rebuke  of  his  countenance  .' 
0  Lord,  says  iliat  holy  man.  Psalm  xc.  11, 
considering  the  frailty  of  poor  man,  and  the 
power  of  God,  who  knows  the  power  of  Ihine 
anger  ?  Even  according  to  thy  fear,  so  is 
thy  wrath  ;  full  as  much,  yea,  far  more  terri- 
ble than  we  can  apprehend  it. 

They  who  dare  go  on  in  ways  wherein  it 
may  be  but  suspected  that  he  is  against  them, 
oh  !  they  know  him  not.  Let  us  consider,  and 
fear  before  him;  and,  for  the  land,  still  en- 
treat the  turning  away  of  his  wrath,  rather  i 
than  deliverances  from  any  pressures :  Lord, 
while  thou  thinkest  good  further  to  afflict  us, 
so  as  to  draw  us  nearer  to  ihce,  we  are  con- 
tent, yea,  we  will  bless  thee  :  but  whatsoever 
thou  do  with  us,  suflfer  not  thy  hot  displeas- 
ure to  arise  against  us,  for  then  we  are  un- 
done. So  this  is  all  a  soul  under  his  hand,  in 
affliction,  ought  to  say.  Correct  me,  but  not 
in  wrath,  lest  thou  bring  me  to  nothing  :  thou 
knowest  I  can  not  stand  before  that.  He  is 
pleased  to  look  to  this,  and  to  express  it  as 
that  which  moderates  his  anger,  even  when 
justly  incensed;  Isa.  Ivii.  16;  I  will  not  con- 
tend for  ever,  neither  will  I  be  always  wroth: 
for  the  spirit  should  fail  before  me,  and  the 
souls  which  I  have  made.  Lord,  if  thou  wilt, 
now  quickly  and  how  easily  couldst  thou 
break  into  pieces,  or  sink  into  nothing,  not 
only  me,  a  little  atom  of  it,  but  the  entire 
frame  of  this  whole  world  ;  and,  therefore, 
strive  not  with  me.  This  Job  often  repre- 
sents, and  God  is  pk'ased  to  move  himself  to 
restrain  his  wrath  and  draw  forth  his  mer- 
cv  by  it.  His  great  compassion  lays  hold  on 
such  considerations.  See  Psalm  Ixxviii.  38, 
69 


39,  and  Psalm  ciii.  14.  And  this  may  furnish 
great  confidence  to  souls  under  a  sense  of 
wrath,  that  do  but  fall  down  and  entreat  for 
mercy.  He  who  so  often  prevents  us,  when 
we  seek  it  not,  will  he  cast  any  one  away 
who  seeks  and  sues  for  it  ? 

The  diversion  of  this  anger  briefly  relates 
to  the  heathen,  the  professed  and  obdurate 
enemies  of  God  and  his  church  ;  q.  d.  Thy 
wrath,  0  Lord,  may  have  its  course,  and  yet 
spare  thy  people.  There  is  matter  enough 
for  it  round  about,  that  is  good  for  nothing 
else  ;  and  good  reason  for  it,  besides  all  other 
wickedness,  their  spite  and  cruelty  against 
thy  people:  For  they  have  eaten  up  Jacob. 

Note  the  character  of  the  ungodly,  who  are 
fit  fuel  for  this  fire.  That  know  not,  and  call 
not  on  thy  name;  that  profess  not,  pretend 
not  to  be  thine.  Tremble,  you  who  are  too 
like  these,  though  reputed  among  the  people 
of  God.  Seek  the  knowledge  of  God,  and 
worship  him,  families  and  persons,  lest  this 
curse  come  upon  you. 

Now,  this  is  a  prophetical  foretelling  of 
the  utter  destruction  of  the  church's  enemies 
whereas  the  church  is  corrected  in  measure, 
and  not  destroyed.  She  is  first  punished  ;  but 
they  that  come  last,  the  enemies,  the  heaviest 
wrath  falls  down  there,  and  smothers  them, 
ends  on  them,  and  makes  a  full  end  o{  them. 
Jer.  XXX.  11.  The  belief  of*  this  may  uphold 
the  faithful  in  the  church's  greatest  distresses. 
When  at  the  lowest,  then  the  wrath  is  nearest 
changing  place  and  removing  to  her  enemies. 

And  this  is  to  be  so  desired  and  prayed  for, 
in  reference  to  the  implacable  enemies  of  God, 
that  we  should  beware  we  mix  nothing  of  our 
own  interest  or  passi-on  with  it.  As  wrath  in 
God  is  without  any  disturbance  a^stuas  et 
tramjuillus  es,  so  somewhat  like  is  the  desire 
of  it  in  the  godlv,  a  calm,  undistempered  love 
of  the  name  of  God.  And  so  shall  the  saints 
rejoice  in  the  final  victory  and  triumph  of 
Christ  over  all  his  enemies,  and  their  final 
ruin  in  that  day  when  they  shall  be  made  his 
footstool.  Then  fhey  shall  have  a  pure  com- 
placency and  delight  in  his  justice  ;  that  shall 
make  all  even.  And  why  are  we  disquieted, 
if  we  hope  for  that  day  ? 


SERMON  XXV. 

mercy  despised,  and  the  contempt  punished. 

Isaiah  xxx.  15 — 18. 

For  thus  saith  thp  Lord  God,  tlio  holy  One  of  Israel, 
In  rcUirninn;  and  rest  shall  ye  be  saved,  in  quietness 
and  in  confidence  shall  be  your  strength;  and  ye 
would  not. 

But  ye  said,  No,  for  we  will  flee  upon  horses,  there- 
fore shall  ye  flee  :  And  we  will  ride  upon  the  swift, 
therefore  shall  they  that  pursue  you  b<  swift. 

One  thousand  shall  lleo  a(  the  rehuUe  of  one  :  at  the 
rebuke  of  fi\i  shall  ye  flee,  till  ye  be  left  as  a  beacon 
upon  the  top  of  a  mountain,  and  as  an  ensign  on  a 
hUl. 


546 


MERCY  DESPISED, 


[Sep  XXV 


And  thprpfore  will  the  T.ord  wait,  that  he  may  he 
gracious  unto  you,  and  thcri'lbro  will  ho  lie  exalted, 
that  he  may  hu\e  mercy  ujioii  you:  for  the  Lord 
is  a  God  of  judgment  ;  blessed  are  all  they  thai 
wait  for  him. 

In  the  sentence  of  that  createst  and  bia:gesl 
jiidgiiieiit  thai  ever  yet  came  on  the  world, 
tlie  imiviTsal  delu!i:e,  as  we  have  it  Gen.  vi., 
that  word  doili  most  lively  express  the  reason 
of  it,  Ml/  Spij-it  shall  not  always  strive  with 
man.  For  thus  it  is,  while  he  spares  even 
his  own  people,  he  is  at  a  continual  strife  with 
them  by  gracious  entreaties  and  mercies,  by 
advices,  and  warnings,  and  ihreatenings,  still 
contesting  ;  that  is  the  way,  he  uses  in  the 
contest,  on  his  part,  against  refusals,  and 
revolts,  and  rebellions  on  their  part.  Thus 
here. 

The  question  between  him  and  his  people 
here,  is  about  the  help  of  Egypt :  this  God 
often  declares  to  be  wholly  against  his  mind 
and  their  own  good  :  yet  they  on  all  occasions 
had  so  strong  a  mind  to  it  that  they  could  not 
be  diverted.  The  prophet  here  hath  his 
message  concerning  this  point,  to  preach  it, 
and  to  write  it,  to  remain  ad  perpetuam  rei 
memoriem,  as  they  speak,  that  it  may  be  for 
the  time  to  come,  for  ever  and  ever  ;  ver.  8  ; 
shows  them  plainly,  that  this  course  was 
wholly  without  the  counsel  and  consent  of 
God,  yea,  directly  against  it,  and  that  it  should 
succeed  accordingly  :  The  slrcngthof  Pharaoh 
shall  be  your  shame,  and  the  trust  in  the  shadow 
of  Egypt  your  confusion  ;  it  shall  prove  to 
you  according  to  its  name,  a  land  of  distress 
and  trouble,  instead  of  help.  And  if  you  would 
know  what  would  suit  that  other  name  of 
Eiiypt  better,  that  were  humble  yieldance  to 
God,  and  confidence  in  him :  your  Rahah, 
your  best  Egypt,  your  truest  strength,  were 
to  sit  still.  Ver.  7.  This  is  here  again  repre- 
sented to  them,  so  gladly  would  he  reclaim 
them. 

For  thus  snilh  the  Lord.]  The  words  have, 
1st,  God's  express  advice  to  his  people.  2dly, 
Their  peremptory  refusal  ofit.  3dly,  His  just 
sentence  passed  upon  their  obstinacy.  The 
advice  is  prefaced  with  the  usual  words  of 
the  prophets.  Thus  saith  the  Lord;  for  in 
that  lies  the  dignity  and  authority  of  the 
message.  His  advices,  doul)tless,  are  the 
choicest  and  the  safest  ;  yea,  his  counsels  are 
all  com  mands,  requiring  duly  the  most  absolute 
obedience. 

The  Lord  Jehovah.']  Were  but  his  word 
known  to  be  his,  and  taken  so,  how  would  our 
souls  melt,  and  yield  to  the  impressions  of  it, 
when  we  read  or  hear  I  Oh  !  learn  to  hear 
him.  to  take  every  word  of  his  as  from  his  own 
mouth,  every  time  the  law  is  read,  as  if  thou 
heard  it  frrim  Mount  Sinai.  So  think,  now 
God  commands  iie  to  fear  him,  as  if  you  heard 
him  speaking  from  heaven.  That  would 
level  more  our  opinion  of  men,  and  make  less 
dilTcrence  of  his  messengers. 

Another  word  of  his  style  is  here  added, 
The  holy  One  of  Israel.    This  is  much  to  be 


I  considered  by  his  people,  the  holiness  of  his 
nature,  and  withal,  the  nearness  of  tiis  rela- 
tion to  them,  and  so,  the  reverence  and  obe- 
dience we  owe  him,  our  deep  engagement  to 
holiness,  as  his  people,  his  ciiildren.  Phis  is 
his  image  in  us,  if  we  are  truly  such.  All  his 
sons  and  daughters  are  like  him,  holy  as  he  is 
holy.  The  blind,  base  world  thinks  it  a  word 
of  disgrace,  but  the  great  God  owns  it  as  a 
chief  point  of'his  glory,  a  diamond  of  his  crown, 
and  frequently  expresses  it  as  one  of  the  titlei 
he  most  delights  to  be  known  by.  Holy,  Holy, 
Holy.  And  as  this  is  beheld,  the  heart  can 
not  but  be  filled  with  reverence,  and  holy  fear, 
and  self-abasement:  as  this  pro])het  here,  in 
seeing  the  vision,  and  hearing  that  voice.  Then 
said  i,  Wo  is  me,  for  1  am  undone.  Isa.  vi.  5. 

This  is  here  used  fitly  to  scare  his  people 
from  rebellion,  the  unholy  way  on  which  they 
were  so  bent;  and  the  rather  because  they 
were  grown  weary  of  it,  and  desired  not  to 
hear  this  word.  Ver.  9.  Therefore  it  is  the 
more  repeated  ;  Because  ye  despise  this  word, 
ye  shall  hear  it  the  more.  Ver.  12.  The 
prophet  will  neither  be  mocked  nor  threaten- 
ed out  of  it  ;  he  will  both  deliver  his  message, 
and  give  the  King  who  sent  him  his  own  title. 
And  oh,  that  we  knew  him  according  to  it, 
and  understood  what  this  means.  The  holy 
One  of  Israel .'  He  was  a  holy  man,  and 
knew  something,  who  yet  confesses  his  own 

I  ignorance  in  that  point  (there  must  be  some 
knowledge  ofit,  to  discover  ignorance  ofit)  : 
I  neither  learned  wisdom,  nor  liave  the  k~iowl- 

'  edge  of  the  holy.    Prov.  xxx.  3. 

hi  returning  and  rest.]  In  leaving  off  the 
pains  ye  take  in  messages  and  journeys  to 
Egypt,  in  humbly  and  quietly  composing 
yourselves  to  wait  on  me,  and  trust  in  me  ; 
submitting  to  my  hand,  in  what  I  bring  upon 
you,  and  from  the  same  hand,  mine  alone, 
expecting  deliverance  in  due  lime.  Tliisdoes 
not  bar  the  use  of  all  lawful  means,  but  as  it 
shuts  out  perplexing  cares  and  turmoil  even 
in  those  good  means,  so  it  expressly  forbids 
all  intermeddliner  with  all  unwarranted  ways, 
such  as  GodnJoth  not  direct  us  to,  but  rather 
dissuades  us  from. 

And  if  this  be  the  safest  way,  surety  it  is 
the  sweetest,  easiest  way.  There  can  not  be 
anything  easier  than  to  be  quiet  and  sit  still, 
to  rest  and  trust,  and  so  be  safe  and  strong. 
And  as  it  is  in  this  particular,  so  generally,  it 
is  in  all  the  ways  of  God  ;  they  are  the  only 
easy,  peaceable,  sweet  ways,  with  the  least 
pains,  and  the  surest  advantage.  And  the 
ways  of  disobedience,  besides  wnat  comes 
after,  are,  even  for  the  present,  more  turbulent, 

[  laborious,  perplexed  ways.  What  a  hurry 
and  pother  arc  men  put  in,  to  serve  their  lusts, 

]  or  their  ambition,  when,  if  they  attain  theii 
object,  it  does  not  quit  the  cost  and  the  pains  ; 
besides  that  if  their  hojies  mock  them,  and 
after  long  pursuit,  they  emijrace  a  shadow. 
Thus  men  woo  their  own  vexation,  and  take 
a  great  deal  morepams  to  be  miserao.e,  llian 

I  they  would  be  put  to,  to  make  them  nappy 


.SA.  XXX.  15—18.]  AND  THE  CONTEMPT  PUNISHED. 


547 


What  a  pity  to  pay  so  dear  for  nothing,  to 
give  their  riches  and  treasures,  and  to  be  at 
pains  too  to  carry  them  to  a  ■people  that  shall 
not  profit  them  (et  oleum  et  operam),  both 
their  expense  and  travel  laid  out  to  no  pur- 
pose !  The  voluptuous,  or  covetous,  or  am- 
bitious, how  do  they  project,  and  drudge,  and 
serve  their  wretched  lusts,  who,  when  they 
have  done  one  piece  of  service,  are  still  to 
begin  another !  And  what  is  the  profit  of  all, 
but  shame  and  sorrow  at  last  ?  The  humble, 
sober-minded  Christian  saves  all  that  pains, 
and  hath  his  heart's  desire  in  quietness  and 
confidence.*  His  great  desire  and  delight  is, 
God  ;  and,  by  desiring  and  delighting,  he  hath 
him.  Psalm  xxxvii.  4  :  Delight  thou  tn  the 
Lord,  and  he  shall  give  thee  thy  heart''s  desire 
— HIMSELF  ;  and  ihen,  surely,  thou  shall  have 
all,  Any  other  thing  commit  to  him,  and  he 
shall  bring  it  to  pass. 

Strange  !  men  might  have  God  at  an  easier 
rate  than  the  poorest  vanities  they  are  hunt- 
ing afier,  and  yei  they  will  not;  a  full  foun- 
tain uf  living  waters  is  ready  provided,  yet 
they  will  be  at  pains  to  hew  out  little  cisterns, 
which,  afier  all  their  pains,  are  but  broken 
cisterns,  and  can  hold  no  water. 

I  know  not  what  men  are  doing,  still  at 
work,  when  they  might  belter  sit  still,  troub- 
ling themselves  and  all  about  them,  and  can 
not  well  tell  for  what.  Oh,  the  sweet  peace 
of  believing  and  obeying  God  !  They  truly 
conquer,  sitting  still  :  Sedendo  vincebnnt.  In 
all  times,  they  are  safe  under  the  shadow  of 
I'le  Almighty  ;  are  strong  in  the  Lord,  and 
til  tin:  power  of  his  might. 

And  ye  would  not,  but  said,  No.~\  Thus 
men  sometimes  flatly  reject  his  counsels,  and 
when  they  are  not  so  gross  as  plainly  to  speak 
it  out,  yei  say  so  in  doing  so,  and  for  good 
manners'  sake  will  blanch  it  with  reproach- 
ing the  messengers;  will  have  it  to  be  not 
God's  mind,  bu.  men's  own  fancy,  a  false 
vision  ;  will  own  nothing  for  truth  but  what 
suits  their  humor  and  desiirn.  First,  they  re- 
solveon  their  course  witlu/ui  acquaintincGod, 
ask  not  his  advice  ;  then,  when  he  is  pleased 
to  give  it  by  his  messengers,  ihey  reject  it, 
not  under  that  name,  as  God's  advice,  but  will 
not  have  it  pass  for  this,  because  it  crosses 
their  already-determined  course.  If  it  favored 
that,  then,  no  question,  it  were  welcome 
enough  as  his  word.  That  is  meant  by  those 
words,  ver.  10  :  Which  say  to  the  prophets, 
prophesy  not  unto  us  right  things  ;  speak  unto 
us  smooth  things,  prophesy  deceits.  And  so 
they  used  Jeremiah  long  after,  in  this  very 
point.  Jer.  xlii.  2.  And  so  they  goon  to  take 
their  own  course ;  No,  but  we  will  f  ee  upon 
hcrses. 

And  ihis  is  the  nature  of  carnal  hearts; 
they  are  generally  inclined  to  rebel,  and  take 
a  way  of  their  own,  casiing  away  the  counsels 
of  God,  as  not  suiting  with  the  slate,  or  wiih 
wit,  or  points  of  honor.    They  find  more  feel- 

•  Vatat  tompprantia.  Spd  non  habebunt  requiem, 
qui  bcsliain  udorant. — Skneca. 


ing  and  real  substance  in  sensual  things  than 
in  the  promises  of  God  :  these  seem  airy,  un- 
sure  thinffs  to  them  ;  therefore,  they  would 
still  see  apparent  means,  and  where  these 
fail,  think  it  but  a  fancy  to  rest  on  God.  They 
dare  not  trust  him  so  but  as  withal  to  do  for 

j  themselves,  although  nothing  can  be  done  but 
what  he  forbids,  which  therefore  can  not  be 
done  without  giving  up  with  him,  and  depart- 
ing from  their  trust  on  him.  All  this  cleaves 
to  us,  and  much  cause  have  we  to  suspect 
ourselves,  when  it  is  but  doubtful  that  there 
appears  little  or  no  evidence  of  God's  counsel 
or  good-will  to  a  business,  but  rather  clear 
characters  of  his  dislike,  and  much  of  our  own 
will,  a  soul,  uncontrollable  bent  to  it  ;  when 
we  are  conscious  to  ourselves  of  this,  that 
either  we  have  not  asked  advice  of  God  at  all, 
or  very  slightly,  not  being  much  upon  our 
knees  w^ith  it  ;  or,  possibly,  in  asking  his 
advice,  have  brought  our  answer  with  us,  in 
our  own  breasts,  the  lying  oracle  that  making 
answer,  and  we  consenting  to  delude  ourselves, 
nor  hearkening  to  anything  that  does  not  clink 
and  sound  to  our  purpose. 

Our  hearts  are  exceedingly  deceitful,  and 
particularly  in  this  point  of  withdrawing  our 
trust  from  God,  and  leaving  off  to  follow  him 
in  his  ways,  to  irust  on  the  arm  of  flesh,  on 
policy  and  strength,  and  self-resolved  under- 
takings, rather  than  on  him  without  these. 
Evil  men  think  that  those  who  advise  ihem 
to  trust  on  God  are  silly  fellows,  who  know 
not  what  belongs  to  policy  and  reasons  of  slate. 
A  fancied  wisdom  it  is,  ihat  men  are  enamor- 
ed with,  and  look  not  to  a  higher  wisdom, 
consider  not  God,  that  he  also  is  ivise.  Isa. 
xxxi.  2.    There  is,  I  think,  in  that  word  a 

i  tart  scorn  of  the  folly  of  their  seeming  wis. 
dom.    Be  it  that  you  are  wits,  yet  you  will 

:  not  deny  some  wisdom  to  God  :  Yet  he  also 
IS  wise.    So  they  think  not  on  his  power 

I  neither ;   therefore  he  puts  them  in  mind 

j  (ver.  3),  that  the  Egyptians  are  men. 

Well,  if  you  be  resolved  on  that  course, 
says  God,  then  know  mine  too,  that  I  am  re- 
solved upon  :  Therefore  ye  shall  fee,  shall 
have  fleein?  enough  ;  and  if  you  be  swift,  they 
that  pursue  i/ou  shall  be  swifter,  and  «/ic  shall 
serve  to  chase  a  thousand,  the  rebuke  the  very 
terror  of  one.  This  is  the  condition  of  the 
mightiest  people  and  the  best-appointed  ar- 
mies, when  forsaken  of  God.  There  is  no 
strength  nor  courage,  nor  anything  of  worth 
in  any  of  the  creatures,  but  as  it  is  derived 
from  God  :  it  is  dependant  on  him  in  the  con- 
tinuance and  use  of  it.  Why  are  thy  valiant 
men  swept  away?  They  stood  not,  because 
the  Lord  did  drive  them.  Jer.  xlvi.  15.  We 
have  seen  this,  and  the  turn  of  it  on  both 
sides,  how  men  become  a  prey  to  any  party 
when  the  terror  from  God  is  u]  on  them. 

Therefore,  learn  we  to  fear  him,  to  beware 
of  all  ways  wherein  we  may  justly  apprehend 
him  to  he  against  us.  Cleave  to  him  and  lo 
his  iruih,  wlien  it  is  lowest,  and  when  no  hu- 

I  man  means  of  help  apj)ear,  then  think  you 


548 


MERUY  DESPISED, 


'Ser.  XX^. 


hear  him  savins:  to  you,  Stand  till,  and  see 
'.he  snlration  of  the  Lord.  ! 

Ver.  IS.  Therefore  will  ihc  Lord  ii^ail.] 
There  is  no  hiiiyCiage  of  men  nor  of  angels  fit  j 
to  express  the  graciousness  of  (rod's  punish-  ' 
nientsand  the  thrcatenings  of  them  ;  ab  if  liiey  ; 
were  violently  drawn  and  forced  from  him, 
hut  mercy,  and  the  sweet  promises  thereol', 
naturally  Howing  from  him.  'fhus  here,  he 
is  forced  to  give  uj)  his  people  to  their  own 
counsels,  because  they  will  not  follow  his  ad- 
vices. He  entreats  tliein  to  be  quiet,  and  let 
him  do  for  them  ;  but  seeing  they  will  not  sit 
still,  and  be  safe  at  his  direction,  they  must  run 
their  own  course,  and  fall  in  it.  But  it  can  not 
pass  so,  they  must  not  be  quite  given  over  ; 
the  Lord  hath  an  interest  in  them  which  he 
will  not  lose.  They  must  indeed  for  a  time  eat 
the  fruit  of  their  own  ways,  and  that  is  not  a 
season  to  show  them  favor  :  but  the  Lord  will 
wait  a  better  hope.  Re  is  resolved  to  show 
them  mercy,  and  will  find  his  own  time  for 
it :  Therefore  will  he  watt,  that  he  may  be 
gracious. 

And  this  is  he  moved  to,  according  to  his 
gracious  nature,  by  the  greatness  of  their  dis- 
tress and  desolation.  Though  procured  by 
themselves,  by  their  great,  their  inflexible 
stubbornness,  yet  he  pities  to  see  them  so  left 
as  a  beacon  on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  and  as 
an  ensign  on  n  lull.  And  therefore  will  the 
Lord  wail.  Thus  we  have  the  proper  argu- 
ings  of  free  mercy,  which  otherwise,  to  our 
narrow  thoughts,  may  seem  strange  and  some- 
what iiiconsequeni.  Such  a  Mere/ore  as  this, 
so  unexpectedly  changing  the  strain,  doth 
genuinely  and  sweetly  follow  upon  the  prem- 
ises, when  free  love  is  the  medium  :  that  in- 
tervening in  the  midst,  makes  the  sweet  turn. 
Your  iniquities  prevail  to  bring  you  low,  and 
lengthen  out  y(jur  calamities  ;  therefore,  I 
will  let  that  have  its  course,  and  will  stay 
till  mv  fit  time  come  to  do  you  good.  Mean- 
while I  will  lie  hid,  and  be  as  silting  still  ; 
but  when  that  time  comes,  I  will  get  up  and 
show  mysell'.  He  will  be  exalted,  that  he  may 
have  mercy  on  you  ;  for  the  Lord  is  a  Gud  of 
judi^ment.  He  is  wise,  and  just,  and  good, 
and  knows  his  measures  of  afllicting  his  peo- 
ple, his  times  and  ways  of  delivering  them, 
and  of  bringing  (jestruction  on  his  enemies, 
and  will  not  slip  this  season  ;  and  it  being  so, 
this  certainly  follows,  tbit  they  are  blessed 
that  wait  on  him. 

Observe,  1.  The  strong  iii.-lination  of  God 
to  sliow  mercy.  He  would  willingly  have  his 
people  to  find  nothing  but  ease  :  he  delights 
in  the  prosperitv  of  his  servants,  would  have 
them  constantly  have  a  sweet,  peaceful,  yea, 
cheerful  life,  by  constant  walking  in  his  ways; 
but  they  are  often  the  enemies  of  their  own 
peace,  grieve  his  Spirit,  and  turn  him  to  be 
their  own  enemy.  But  he  can  not  persist  in 
tl^at  to  his  own  ;  he  longs  to  be  at  his  way  of 
niercy  and  loving  kindness  again.  He  retains 
not  his  anser  for  ever,  because  mercy  pleases 
aim.    He  inflicts  judgment  for  sin,  but  what 


he  delights  in  is  mercy.  Tnerefore,  says  the 
prophet.  Lam.  iii.  32,  33,  Thoutrk  he  caust 
grief,  yet  he  will  have  compassion  according 
to  the  multitude  of  his  mercies:  For  he  doth 
7iot  willinoli/  afflict  the  children  of  men 
Though  he  doth  grieve  them,  y  ft,  not  willing' 
hi;  they  themselves  procure  and  draw  on 
\\\^\.,h\'  grieving  his  Spirit.  But  he  willingly 
shows  mercy,  for  that  abounds:  there  is  sucL 
multitude  and  plenty  of  it,  that,  as  to  full 
breasts,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  him  to  let  it  forth. 
The  two  words,  gracious  and  merciful,  which 
stand  first  in  the  name  of  God,  Exodus  xxxiv. 
C,  the  one  signifies  free  grace,  the  other,  ten- 
der bowels  of  mercy.  This  is  no  emboldment 
to  continue  in  sin,  yea,  it  is  of  all  things  the 
most  fit  encouragement  and  inducement  to  a 
sinner  to  return  from  sin  ;  and  so  it  is  used  and 
urged  throughout  the  Scriptures.  See  Isaiah 
xxxi.  5,  6,  and  Iv.  7  ;  Jer.  iii.  12.  In  public 
calamities,  where  a  people  are  charging  the 
cause  thereof  upon  themselves,  searching 
their  hearts  and  their  ways,  and  turning  unto 
God,  humbly  acknowledging  their  iniquity, 
and  entreating  pardon,  oh  !  this  is  the  thing 
he  would  not  despise.  Yea,  it  is  what  he 
looks  and  longs  for,  and  upon  that  would 
readily  forget  all  past  disloyalties.  See  Jer. 
iii.  1.  Yea,  at  the  sound  of  their  repentings. 
his  bowels  would  resound  with  compassion 
by  a  secret  sympathy  and  harmony,  as  one 
string,  well  tuned  to  another,  stirs  when  it  is 
touched.    Thus,  Jer.  xxxi.  18-20. 

This  a  sinner  shall  find  in  his  returning  un- 
to God,  more  than  we  can  express  or  promise 
in  his  name.  Oh,  he  waits  to  be  gracious, 
meets  thee  graciously.  Yea,  he  hath  first 
touched  tiiy  heart  secretly,  hath  first  drawn 
it  toward  himself,  before  it  stirred,  or  had  a 
thought  that  way.  Now  no  more  upbraid- 
ings  or  remembrance  of  all  thy  wanderings  : 
an  act  of  perfect  oblivion  is  past.  For  I  will 
forgive  their  iniquity,  and  I  will  remember 
their  sin  no  more.  Jer.  xxxi.  34.  Is  thy  heart 
any  little  softened,  and  relents  it  toward  him  ? 
Then,  the  controversy  is  ended,  and  his 
thoughts  are  now,  how  to  comfort  thee.  Art 
thou  busy  inditing  accusations  against  thy- 
self? Tiien  makes  he  it  his  part  to  wipe 
away  and  blot  out.  Comest  thou  home  with 
a  heart  full  of  holy  shame  and  grief,  and  thy 
mouth  full  of  humble  confessions  of  thy  diso- 
bedience ?  Then  know,  it  is  thy  tender- 
hearted Father  meets  thee,  most  ready  to 
forgive  thee,  yea,  to  interrupt  thy  confessions 
in  the  middle  with  embraces  and  kisses  of 
love. 

But,  alas  !  we  preclude  ourselves  from  the 
sweet  experiences  of  these  tender  mercies,  by 
the  hardness  of  our  hearts,  and  by  the  liirht- 
ness  and  vanity  of  them.  Oh  that  indignity, 
our  God  still  watting  to  be  gracious,  to  heap 
up  more  of  his  love  to  us,  but  we  are  busied 
in  other  things,  and  not  at  leisure  to  wait  on 
him  !  Oh  !  what  are  they,  these  things  that 
take  us  up?  Great  matters?  Alas!  sorry 
trifles,  all  day  long.    And  when  we  are  a« 


IsA.  XXX.  15 — 18.] 


AND  THE  CONTEMPT  PUNISHED. 


549 


leifiure,  yet  we  are  not  at  leisure  ;  for  then 
we  must  take  our  ease,  must  go  to  sleep,  and 
so  still  he  is  put  off  and  forced  to  retire,  after 
he  has  stayed  till  his  head  he  filled  with  dew,  \ 
and  his  locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night.  ' 
Cant.  V.  2. 

Observatioi.  2.  Th<:  Lord  doth  most  exact- 
ly and  wisely  measura  both  the  degree  and 
the  time  of  his  people's  afflictions.  Though 
they  have  brought  them  upon  themselves,  and 
justly  he  might  leave  them  so,  this  he  will 
not  do  :  he  is  a  God  of  judgment.  This  is 
largely  and  sweetly  expressed,  in  a  resem- 
blance of  husbandry,  Isa.  xxviii.  24-29.  He 
knows  how  much  and  how  long  outward  or 
inward  trouble  is  fit  for  every  one,  and  where 
the  less  will  serve,  will  not  use  the  more.  He 
knows  what  need  some  spirits  have  to  be 
bruised  and  broken  beyond  others,  either  un- 
.  der  disgrace  or  poverty,  or  the  proper  pres- 
sures of  the  spirit  witnin,  apprehensions  of 
wrath,  or  withdrawmenis,  at  least,  of  com- 
forts ;  and  hath  set  his  days  for  deliverance 
of  his  church,  and  of  every  believer  under  af- 
fliction. So,  the  style  of  the  prophet,  Jn  that 
day,  speaking  as  of  a  certain  prefixed  day, 
and  that,  no  power  or  wit  of  man  can  disap- 
point. And  it  is  so  chosen,  as  it  shall  be  evi- 
dent to  be  the  fittest,  that  it  could  not  so  well 
either  have  been  sooner  or  later  ;  all  things 
concurring  to  make  it  most  seasonable  to  his 
people,  and  honorable  to  his  own  name.  Hab. 
ii.  3:  The  vision  is  for  the  appointed  time  : 
though  it  tarry,  wait  for  it  ;  it  shall  come, 
and  shall  not  tarry.  That  is  strange,  Though 
it  tarry,  it  shall  not  la^ri/.  But  in  the  origi- 
nal, there  are  two  words,  the  one  importing 
an  undue  slowness  or  constrained  retardment : 
that  can  not  be  so,  it  shnll  not  tarry,  thom^h 
tl  tarry  ;  that  is,  though  it  slay  itself,  and 
come  not  till  the  appointed  lime  :  so  the  other 
word  signifies.  Thus,  Psalm  cii.  13:  Thou 
shalt  arise,  and  have  mercy  upon  Zion  ;  for 
the  svl  lime  n  come.  Now,  for  this  the  I^ord 
wait,s.  It  is  not  through  want  of  love,  but 
from  abundance  of  wisdom,  that  he  delivers 
not  sooner.  He  hath  chosen  the  finest  time, 
in  his  all-discernmg  wisdom  ;  yet,  there  is  in 
this  love,  an  e*  lest  kind  of  longing  that  the 
time  were. come.  Thus  here,  he  tcai^s  to  he 
gracious,  and  he  loill  he  exalted,  will  cheer- 
fully and  gladly  raise  up  himself,  and  appear 
to  show  mercy  to  his  people,  and  bring  his 
enemies  low  ;  coming  forth,  as  it  were,  to 
judgment,  and  sitting  down  on  his  throne. 
In  which  posture  he  was  not  seen  while  they 
prevailed  and  triumphed,  and  his  church 
were  under  their  opf)ression  ;  but  when  the 
time  of  their  restorin?  and  consolation  comes, 
he  ihen  is  to  sit  on  his  throne,  and  so  is  exalt- 
ed to  show  them  mercy.  Hence  the  psalmist 
f>  often  desires  ttiat  the  Lord  would  arise, 
and  utters  predictions,  assuring  that  he  will 
arise,  and  exciting  his  people  to  rejoice  in 
that.  Psalm  ix.  7,  S,  and  Psalms  xcvi.,  xcvii., 
and  xcviii. 

Thus,  the  .-.hurch,  in  her  saddest  condition, 


ought  hopefully  to  remember  and  rest  on  it, 
that  the  day  is  determined,  and  can  not  fail. 
Our  salvation  is  in  God.    He  laughs  at  his 
enemies,  when  they  are  at  the  top  of  pros- 
perity and  pride  ;  sees  that  their  day  is  com- 
ing.   Now,  certainly  the  firm  persuasion  of 
this  would  much  stay  our  minds  ;  but  either 
we  do  not  believe,  or  we  do  not  improve  and 
use  these  truths,  and  draw  that  comfort  from 
them  which  abounds  in  them.  Our  God  loses 
no  time  :  he  is  irairing  till  his  appointed  time. 
And  if  Ar  ivait,  it  becomes  us  so  to  do.  That 
is  our  duty  here,  to  wait  on  him.    This  faith 
does,  and  so,  makes  not  haste  ;  neither  goes 
out  to  any  undue  means,  nor  frets  impatiently 
within  at  the  deferring  of  deliverance,  but 
quietly  rests  on  God,  and  waits  for  hiin.  This, 
as  it  is  our  duty,  is  also  our  happiness ;  and 
thus  it  is  here  expressed.  L^pon  consideration 
that  the  Lord  wails  to  he  gracious,  and  will 
he  exalted  to  show  mercy,  the  prophet  is  car- 
ried to  this  acclamation,  in  respect  to  the  hap- 
piness of  believers,  0  .'  blessed  are  they  that 
wait  for  him  .'    Their  thoughts  fall  in  and 
meet  with  his  ;  for  he  is  waiting  for  the  same 
day  they  wr/il  for,  and  if  he  be  not  disappoint- 
ed, they  shall  not.    We  are  naturally  irregu- 
lar in  our  affections  and  notions,  and  the  only 
right  ordering  of  them  is,  by  reducing  them 
to  conformity  with  the  ways  and  thoughts  of 
God,  which  keep  an  unalterable,  fixed  course, 
as  the  heavens  ;  the  wav,  I  say,  to  rectify  our 
thoughts  is,  to  set  them  by  his,  as  clocks  and 
watches,  which  so  readily  go  wrong,  too  slow 
or  to  fast,  are  ordered  by  the  sun,  which  keeps 
its  course.    Oh  I  that  we  were  more  careful 
to  set  and  keep  our  hearts  in  attendance  on 
God,  winding  them  up  in  meditation  upon 
him,  and  conforming  ihein  in  their  motions 
and  desires  to  his  disposal  in  all  ;  for  all  that 
concerns  us,  and  for  the  times  of  all,  being 
quiet,  yea,  glad  in  this,  which  the  psalmist 
makes  his  joy:  My  times  are  m  thy  hand,  0 
J.nrd.  Psalm  xxxi.  15.   And  surely  that  is  the 
best.    Were  1  to  choose,  they  should  be  in  no 
other  hands,  neither  mine  own,  nor  any  oth- 
ers.  Alas!  what  silly,  poor  creatures  are  we  ! 
How  little  do  we  know  what  is  fit  for  us  in 
any  kind,  and  still  less  what  time  is  fit  for 
any  mercy  to  be  bestowed  upon  us  !  When 
'  he  withholds  mercies  or  comforts  for  a  sea- 
j  son,  it  is  but  till  the  due  season  ;  it  is  but  to 
ripen  them  for  us,  which  \v'e  in  childish  haste 
would  pluck  green,  when  they  would  be  nei- 
!  ther  so  sweet  nor  so  wholesome.  Therefore 
it  is  our  wisdom  and  our  peace,  to  resign  all 
things  into  his  hands,  to  have  no  will  nor  de- 
sires, but  only  this,  that  we  may  still  vail  for 
'  him.    All  shall  be  well  enough,  if  we  but  get 
rid  of  the  vain  hopes  and  expectations  of  this 
world.    None  who  indulge  them  are  so  well 
but  they  are  siill  waiting  for  somewhat  fur 
ther.    Now,  amid  all  that,  our  soul  may  say 
with  David,  and  speak  it  to  God  as  known  to 
j  him,  that  it  is  so  indeed  :  And  nou\  Lord, 
what  wait  I  for?  My  hope  is  in  thee.  My  expec- 
tation  or  waiting  (the  same  word  that  is  here) 


wo 


CONFESSION  AND  PRAYER  OF  FAITH. 


[Ser.  XXVI. 


IS  all  jilnced  upon  thev.  Is  it  so,  bretliren  ? 
Are  our  lu'aris  gailiered  in  from  otlier  ihinj^s, 
to  I'us  atit'udaiice,  while  the  iiiosl  ahoui  us 
are  i^apiiiir  for  the  wind  ?  Have  we  laid  all 
up  in  God,  to  desire  and  wut  for  Itiin,  and 
pretend  to  nothing:  beside  him  ? 

I  Would  do  so,  may  a  soul  think,  i)ut  can  I 
hope  that  he  will  look  on  me,  and  bestow 
nimself  on  >^ueh  a  one  as  I  am  ?  To  that  1 
say  nothing  but,  look  on  his  word.  If  thou 
thinkest  that  warrant  gooil  enough,  here  it  is 
for  thee,  that  they  are  certainly  blessed  Ihul 
wait  for  him.  This  is  assurance  enousjh. 
Never  was  any  one  wlio  waited  for  him,  mis- 
erable with  disappointment.  Whosoever 
ihou  art  that  dost  indeed  desire  him,  and  de- 
sirest  to  wait  for  him,  surely  thou  resolvesi 
to  do  it  in  his  ways,  wherein  he  is  to  be 
found,  and  wilt  not  willingly  depart  from 
these;  that  were  foolishly  to  disappoint  thy- 
self, and  not  to  be  true  to  thine  own  end. 
Therefore  look  to  that:  do  not  keepc(jmpany 
with  any  sin.  It  may  surprise  thee  some- 
times as  an  enemy,  but  let  it  not  lodge  with 
thee  as  a  friend. 

And  mind  this  other  thing,  prescribe  noth- 
ing to  ■  God.  If  thou  hast  begun  to  wait, 
faint  not,  give  not  up,  wait  on  still.  It  were 
good  reason,  were  it  but  upon  little  hope  at 
length  to  find  him  :  but  since  it  is  upon  the 
unfailing  assurance,  that  in  the  end  thou 
shah  obtftin,  what  folly  were  it,  to  lose  all 
for  want  of  wailing  a  little  longer  !  See 
Psalm  xl.  1.  In  waiting  1  waited — waited, 
and  heller  waited — but  all  was  overpaid  : 
He  did  bear  me.  So  Psalm  cxxx.,  /  wnt  and 
wall  until  the  morniii<r.  These  two  joined 
are  a'l,  and  may  well  go  together,  earnest  de- 
sire       patient  atlendance. 

Tiiesf  words,  as  others  of  the  prophet, 
which  we  call  consolations,  I  conceive,  look 
beyond  the  deliverances  from  outward  trou- 
bles, to  the  great  promise  of  the  Messiah. 
Sure  I  am  the  strain  of  something  following 
is  too  high  for  that,  and  can  not  but  have  an 
aspect  to  the  days  of  the  gospel,  as  that  ver. 
26.  Now  the  Lord  had  set  his  time,  that  /u/- 
ncss  of  time  for  the  corning  of  the  blessed 
Son  in  the  flesh  ;  and  till  that  time  ca/«e,  the 
the  Lord  was  luaitin'^  to  he  irracious,  to  open 
up  his  treasures  more  fully  than  ever  before  : 
which  when  be  did,  then  was  he  exalled  to 
shoio  merci/,  and  exalted  in  showing  mercy. 
Christ  himself  was  lifted  up  on  '.he  cross, 
thereto  sliow  that  rich  mercv  that  is  forever 
to  be  admired  :  lifted  uj)  to  show  his  bowels 
as  the  word  is  here.  Did  he  not  let  us  see 
into  his  heart,  there  to  read  that  love  that 
can  no  otherwise  be  uttered  ?  And  in 
that,  the  Lord  was  most  eminently  manifest- 
ed d.  God  nfjudf^menl,  wisdom,  and  jus- 
tice, and  mercy,  all  shinin£r  briijhtest  in  that 
contrivance.  There  he  was  lifted  up,  and 
then,  afier  that,  lifted  up  into  fflory,  who  is  the 
Desire  of  the  nations,  the  salvation  and  joy  of 
all  ages,  both  before  and  after.  Before  he 
came,   they  were  Irom  one  age  to  another 


u-aitinjr ;  and  more  particularly  at  the  time 
of  his  coming,  God  stirred  up  the  exjiectation 
of  believers  to  welcome  him,  being  so  near. 
See  Luke  ii.  25,  38.  And  in  all  times,  before 
and  alter  that,  he  is  the  happiness  of  souls, 
and  ih/  i/  only  are  blessed  that  wait  for  him. 
Whether  you  do,  or  do  not,  believe  it  now, 
the  day  is  coming  when  all  the  world  shall 
know  it  to  be  so. 


SERMON  XXVL 

CONFESSION  AND  PUAYER  OF  FAITH. 

Jerf.jiiah  xiv.  7—9. 

O  Lord,  tbnuijh  oiir  iniquities  testify  against  lis,  do 
llidu  it  for  tliy  name's  sake  :  for  our  backslidings 
are  many,  we  have  sinned  against  tliee. 

0  llie  liope  of  Israel,  llie  Savior  tliereof  in  lime  of 
troid)le,  why  slioiildst  thou  be  as  a  stranger  in  the 
land  and  as  a  wa3'-faring  man,  that  turneth  aside 
to  tarry  for  a  night  ? 

Why  sliouldst  thou  be  as  a  man  astonished,  as  a 
mighty  man  that  can  not  save  ?  yet  thou,  ()  Lord, 
art  in  the  midst  of  us,  and  we  are  called  by  thy 
name  ;  leave  us  not. 

If  we  look  backward  and  forward  in  this 
chapter,  we  find  the  three  great  executioners 
ol' God's  anger  on  the  world  foretold,  as  hav- 
ing received  commission  against  this  people. 

In  all  troubles,  felt  or  feared,  this  is  still 
the  great  resource  of  them  who  are  acquaint- 
ed with  it,  and  can  use  it.  Prayer.  And  their 
labor  in  it  is  not  altogether  lost,  even  where 
judgment  is  determined  and  unalterable,  as 
here  it  was  ;  for  some  mitigations  of  time 
and  measure  are  desirable,  and  by  pray- 
er attainable  ;  and  whatsoever  there  is  of 
that  kind,  the  prayers  that  have  been  made 
long  before,  have  had  a  concurrence  and  in- 
fluence in  it.  And  always,  at  the  least,  pray- 
er carries  the  personal  good  of  them  that  pre- 
sent it:  if  it  return  unto  their  bosom,  as  Da- 
vid speaks,  without  effect  for  others,  it  re- 
turns not  thither  empty,  it  brings  [)eace  and 
safety  thither  with  it  :  they  save  their  own 
souls.  The  mourners,  if  ihey  turn  not  away 
the  destroyers'  weapons  from  the  city,  yet, 
they  procure  one  sent  along  with  them,  with 
an  ink  horn  for  their  own  marking  and  spar- 
ing, Ezek.  ix.  3.  And  were  there  nothing  ux 
this,  nor  anv  fallowing  effect,  prayer  hath 
within  itself  its  own  reward.  Did  we  know 
it,  we  should  think  so.  The  very  dignity 
and  delight  of  so  near  access  to  God,  to  speak 
with  him  so  freely,  this  it\  itself  is  the  most 
blessed  and  honorable-privilege  that  the  crea- 
ture is  capable  of:  it  IS  a  pledge  of  heaven, 
something  of  it  beforehand,  a  standing  in  pre- 
tension to  the  life  of  angels  :  An'^rlnrum  can- 
didali,  as  Tertullian  speaks  :  it  is  to  be  but  a 
hitle  lower,  as  the  word  is.  Psalm  viii.  5. 
Many  practise  a  form  ;  few  know  the  vital 
sweetness  of  it. 

Oh,  my  brethren,  be  aspiring  to  more  heav- 


Jer.  xiv.  7 — 9.] 


C0NFE8SI0W  AND  PRAYER  OF  FAITH. 


551 


enliness,  and  a  higher  bent  of  the  soul  in  it  | 
than  as  yet  you  know,  and  use  it  more  that  I 
way  ;  use  it  for  yourselves  and  others,  this 
whole  land,  these  kingdoms,  the  church  of 
God  through  the  whole  earth.  No  times 
that  we  have  seen,  wherein  it  hath  been 
more  needful,  and  none  wherein  less  plenii- 
ful.  There  is  no  one  that  sliis  vp  himself  lo  \ 
lay  hold  on  God.  Some,  no  doubt,  there  are  in 
these  limes;  yet,  so  few,  so  general  a  decay 
and  negligence  in  the  zeal  and  frequency  of 
prayer,  that,  to  speak  of,  there  is  none.  And 
is  it  not  so  now  with  us?  Many  discourse 
one  to  another,  and  yet,  most  to  little  or  no 
purpose:  but  little  is  spoken  where  nothing 
would  be  lost,  in  humble  supplication  to  God. 
And  this  is  the  saddest  sign  of  that  long  last- 
ing trouble.  Oh  !  pity  the  kingdom  and  your- 
selves, and  learn  to  pray.  \ 
This  prayer  of  the  prophet  is  made  up  of 
the  two  usual  ingredients,  confession  and  pe- 
tit ion. 

0  Lord,  Jehovah.]  A  chief  point  of  prayer 
is,  the  presenting  of  the  soul  before  God,  re- 
membering to  whom  we  speak,  that  is  to  the 
great  king,  the  holy  God  ;  which  this  ex- 
presses, where  it  is  indeed,  when  we  say,  0 
Lord,  or  should  remind  us  of,  when  we  for- 
get it,  10  have  such  apprehensions  as  we  can 
reach  of  his  glorious  majesty.  Consider,  if 
we  find  our  hearts  filled  with  him  when  we 
are  before  him.  Oh  !  how  seldom  think  we 
that  he  is  God,  even  while  we  speak  to  him, 
and  how  quickly  do  we  forget  it,  and  let  slip 
that  thought !  When  we  have  anvthing  of 
it,  how  soon  are  we  out  of  it,  and  multijilying 
vain  words  I  For  such  are  all  those  we  utter 
to  him  without  this.  Oh  !  pray  to  be  taught 
this  point  of  prayer,  and  watch  over  your 
hearts  iu  prayer,  to  set  ihem  thus  when  you 
enter  to  Him,  and  to  call  them  in  when  they 
wander,  and  pluck  them  up  when  they  slum-* 
ber,  to  think  where  they  are,  and  what  they 
are  doing. 

Our  iniquities  testify  against  vs.]  Confes- 
sion fiti-  begins.  All  the  dilference  be- 
tween Gel  and  us  lies  in  this,  our  mu/uities. 
Now  liumble  confession  is  one  great  article  of 
pacification  :  it  is  a  thing  judgment  certainly 
aims  at,  a  thing  mercy  is  mainly  moved  with. 
See  Hos.  v.  15.  Psalin  xxxii.  5.  Jeremi- 
ah xxxi.  18.  j 

When  we  are  to  encounter  any  enemy  or  ' 
difficulty,  it  is  sin  weakens  us.    Now,  confes- 
sion weakens  it,  takes  away  the  power  of  ac- 
cusations,   anticipates   the  great   accuser,  i 
leaves  him  noiliinif  tosay,  takes  off  the  stroke  j 
of  sins  testifying  against  us,  says,  you  need 
not,  1  confess  all,  and  more  than  you  can 
say. 

For  this,  a  right  knowledge  of  God's  law  is 
requisite,  and  then  a  diiiijcnt  use  of  it  ;  lay- 
ing it  lo  our  way,  as  a  straight  rule  to  show 
our  uiievenness,  whi(;h,  witliout  it,  we  dis- 
cern not.  Set  that  glass  before  you,  but  with- 
al beg  light  from  Heaven  to  see  by  ;  other- 
wise our  applications  to  this  work  of  search- 


ing our  hearts,  and  comparing  them  with  the 
law,  is  but  poring  in  the  dark,  where  nothing 
is  to  be  seen  of  our  spots  though  we  s«i  the 
glass  before  us,  and  open  the  leaves  of  it. 
The  spirit  of  a  man  is  the  candle  of  ihe  Lord  , 
Prov.  XX.  27  :  but  it  is  so  when  he  lights  it, 
and  dircts  a  man  by  it  into  himself,  lo  see 
the  secret  corners  and  pollutions  that  lie  hid 
within  him.  Sin  discovered  by  this  light, 
appears  in  its  native  vileness,  and  that  makes 
lively  resentments  and  confessions. 

Their  confession  of  sin  is  varied  here  in 
three  several  expressions,  and  no  one  of  them 
is  empty  ;  the  adding  one  to  another,  testify- 
ing a  deep  sense,  and  each  of  them  having 
much  under  it,  when  issuing  from  an  awa- 
kened, sensible  mind. 

Our  iniquities  testify  against  us.]  This 
expresses  a  deep  and  clear  conviction.  Our 
iniquities  are  undeniable  ;  they  stand  up  and 
give  in  witness  against  us,  and  we  can  no; 
except  against  them,  nor  deny  the  charge 
they  lay. 

And  thus  it  shall  be  with  all  transgressors 
in  their  day,  and  with  each  of  us.  It  is  not 
far  off,  our  particular  day,  it  is  coming,  when 
ihe  most  ignorant  and  impudent  shall  be 
forced  lo  know  and  the  most  obstinate  and 
impudent  shall  be  forced  to  acknowledge 
their  iniquities.  Such  as  now  will  not  be 
warned  and  convinced,  who  hide  their  sin  as 
men,  like  Adam,  who  show  themselves  in 
that  his  children,  they  (as  he  was)  shall  be 
called  for,  and  forced  to  come  out  of  the 
thickets,  and  convicted  of  their  disobedience. 
This  men  find  sotnetimes  in  a  day  of  distress, 
when  some  outward  or  inward  pressure  seizes 
on  them,  lays  on  the  arrest,  and  brings  them 
lo  stand  and  hear  what  these  witnesses  have 
lo  say  against  them.  However,  there  is  a 
day  coming  for  tliis  at  tiie  long  run,  a  day  of 
particular  judgment  for  each  one,  and  that 
great  solenm  day  for  altogether:  ihe  light  of 
that  fiery  day  shall  let  them  see  to  read  the 
bill  they  would  not  look  on  sooner.  If  men 
would  consider  this,  when  sin  is  speaking 
them  fair  and  enticing  them,  in  how  differ- 
ent a  style  it  will  afterward  speak,  it  would 
sp(;il  tiie  charm  of  it.  As  Solomon  speaks  of 
the  strange  rrnman,  that  her  end  is  bitter 
as  wormwood  (I'rov.  v.  4),  so  are  all  the 
ways  of  sin.  Those  same  sins  which  look  so 
pleasing  and  friendly,  and  entreat  thee,  shall 
appear  again  in  another  tune,  and  with  other 
language,  lo  witness  ai;ainst  tliee,  and  cry  for 
vengeance.  Men  think  sin  evanishes  as  it 
is  acted,  and  forget  it  as  if  they  were  to  hear 
no  more  of  it,  and  know  not  that  it  shall  be 
forthcoming  again,  even  thoughts,  words, 
and  actions.  All  is  kept  for  a  court-day,  ini- 
quities sealed  up  in  a  bag,  as  Job  speaks,  a^ 
writs  lo  be  produced  in  the  process  against 
thee.  Oh,  how  little  know  you  what  the 
amazement  is  of  a  man'ssinssurrounding  him 
and  testifying  aijainst  him,  that  he  is  a  rebel 
against  God,  and  to  be  condemned  !  And  no 
scarcity,  such  multitudes  of  them,  one  com- 


CONFESSION  AND  PRAYER  OF  FAITR 


[Ser.  XXVI 


pany  succeeJin<i  another,  as  that  word,  Job 
X.  17  :  T/ioii  rentirrst  thy  icitnrsaes  ftiruin.fl 
me  ;  not  by  twos  or  threes,  but  by  thousands, 
armies  of  them.  Tliis  is  more  ail'rii;litfu! 
than  to  be  eiieompassed  with  drawn  swords, 
or  to  see  a  whole  army  march  up  upon  a  man, 
it  were  nothing  to  these  bands  mustered  up. 
So  Psalm  I.  21  :  /  will  reprove  thee,  and  set 
them  in  order  lief  ore  thine  ci/es. 

There  is  no  wav  to  escape  l)ut  by  preven- 
tion, taking  a  day  beforehand  to  judije  thy- 
self, and  call  these  witnesses,  and  hear  them, 
and  pass  sentence.  This  would  save  the  la- 
bor. God  is  desirous  to  have  the  matter 
thus  anticipated,  and  turns  it  over  to  thee,  to 
judsre  tiiyself,  that  he  may  not  judge.  Why 
defer  we  ?  It  is  not  worth  the  while  and  the 
pains  ?  And  then  for  that  day,  when  it  would 
seem  so  terrible  to  have  these  witnesses  stand 
up,  thy  safety  is,  having  judged  and  condemn- 
ed thyself,  to  take  sanctuary  in  Christ,  and 
mike  him  thy  advocate  to  answer  all  for  thee. 
He  can  and  will  do  it  to  the  full  :  yea,  he 
hath  already  answered  all  that  thy  sins,  were 
they  many  more,  can  say.  Oh,  happy  the 
man  that  takes  this  course!  Sin  not  upon 
this  account  :  none  surely  will  do  that. 
These  things  I  lorite  unto  you,  saith  the  apos- 
tle, that  ye  sin  not;  but  then,  ?f  any  man 
not  so  minded,  do  sin,  here  is  that  comfort, 
we  have  an  advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus 
Christ  the  righteous.    1  John  ii.  1. 

Our  hackslidtnas  are  many.  This  is  the 
double  die  of  his  people's  sins  ;  they  are  not 
simple  transgressions,  but  treacheries,  revolts, 
breaches  of  promises,  of  covenant  and  vow, 
turnings  back,  goings  out  from  God,  adultery, 
prosiituting  their  hearts  to  idols,  to  base  lusts  ; 
a  heart  professed  to  be  married  lo  its  Alaker, 
running  a  gadding  after  strange  vanities. 
And  who  of  us  hath  not  this  sadly  to  say 
against  himself? — How  often  have  I  vowed 
myself  thine,  and  with  some  kind  of  hopes 
and  purpose  to  have  been  true  lo  it ;  but  how 
soon  hath  all  evanished  !  Oh  !  the  unspeak- 
able unfaithfulness,  not  only  of  common  for- 
mil  professors,  but  of  real  believers!  And 
these  provoke  God  highly,  go  most  to  his 
h«art,  to  be  slighted  by  his  own,  to  whom  he 
hjith  so  particularly  shown  himself  and  im- 
ported of  his  love. 

And  we  hare  sinned  against  thee.^  This 
that  comes  last  seems  to  sound  least  ;  but  I 
take  it  as  meaning  most :  as  if  they  would 
have  offered  at  particular  confession,  and  then 
seeing  such  a  huge  multitude,  and  no  end, 
were  forced  to  retire,  and  shut  up  all  in  this 
general  word.  We  might  and  v/ould  speak 
of  many  things,  but  they  are  too  many,  we 
are  overwhelmed.  What  shall  we  say  ?  We 
have  sinned  against  thee.  Thus  Job,  /  have 
xinned  against  thee ;  what  shall  I  do  unto 
thee?  As  in  David's  confession.  Psalm  li.  4: 
Against  thr.e,  thee  only  hove  I  sinned  ;  tkke, 
the  great,  the  holy  God,  our  God.  This  were 
our  business,  instead  of  much  discourse  and 
dfibalc  of  things,  to  fall  down  and  confess 


I  unto  God  ;  to  begin  at  ourselves,  our  own 

I  breaches  and  backslidings,  and  then  to  add 

'  the  public  national  guiltiness.    Oh  !  we  ar 
a  sinful  people,  and  few  lay  it  to  heart.  All 

'  ranks  are  highly  guilty  ;  and  where  are  they 
who  retire  and  mourti  for  their  abominations  ? 
Those  continued  and  multiplied,  are  the  con- 
tinuers  and  nmltipliers  of  our  plagues,  sword, 
and  pestilence,  and  threatenings  of  famine. 
If  you  have  a  mind  to  do  anything  for  the 
land,  and  for  yourselves,  your  fatnilies  and 
your  little  ones,  oh  !  apply  to  this  work,  to 
confess  and  bewail  our  iniquities.   It  may  be, 

1  yea,  I  dare  say,  it  shall  be,  the  Lord  will  re- 
turn and  have  mercy  on  us. 

O  Lord,  though  our  inii/uilies  testify  against 
us.]  In  all  our  approaches  unto  God,  it  is  a 
prime  thing  to  take  him  up  according  to  his 
name.  This  is  the  very  ground  of  access  and 
confidence  of  sinners,  and  there  is  no  coming 
near  him  witluiut  it.  We  have  heard  it,  that 
he  is  the  Lord,  merciful  and  gracious,  &c. 
Not  so  much  as  coi\fessions  can  be  made  with- 
out this,  much  less  petitions  presented.  In- 
stead of  coming  to  fall  down  before  him,  to 
acknowledge  sin,  the  soul  will  run  quite 
away,  and,  though  that  Avere  in  vain,  would 
seek  to  hide  itself,  that  it  might  not  at  all  ap- 
pear. But  apprehending  his  goodness  and 
readiness  to  forgive,  this  draws  the  heart  to 
him,  and  being  drawn  in.  this  makes  it  melt 
before  him.  In  this  some  Christians  mistake 
much,  when  they  hold  off  from  the  apprehen- 
sions of  God's  graciousness,  to  the  end  that 
they  may  be  the  more  humble  and  deeply  af- 
fected with  their  sins.  No,  no:  this  is  that 
which  warms,  and  softens,  and  makes  the 
soul  pliable,  fit  to  receive  any  form  from  his 
hand.  Therefore  the  people  of  God,  and  the 
prophets  in  their  name,  still  lay  hold  on  that, 
and  interweave  it  both  with  their  confessions 

fand  their  petitions,  as  the  main  ground  of 
their  confidence,  in  presenting  both. 

The  petition  is  in  these  two  words,  which 
begin  and  close — Do  for  us — Leave  us  not. 
The  rest  is  argument,  backing  and  pressing 
the  petition  with  familiar  and  pathetic  ex- 
postulations ;  and  in  them,  the  whole  strength 
of  the  argument  lies  in  a  nmtual  interest,  that 
they  are  his  people,  and  he  is  their  God.  But 
take  the  words  as  they  lie. 

Do  thou  for  thy  name^s  sake.]  It  is  not  ex- 
pressed what  or  hoir,  and  it  is  best  so  :  that  is 
referred  to  Him  who  knows  what  is  best, 
which  we  do  not.  It  is  an  act  of  grace  in 
general  that  is  sued  for,  but  for  the  way  and 
time,  all  is  put  in  his  hand.    True  it  is,  that 

;  sometimes  p.rayer  is,  and  must  be,  somewhat 
more  particular  upon  particular  warrant,  or 
upon  accf)unt  of  ihe  cotnmon  liberty  that  God 
gives  his  children,  to  present  freely  the  ])ar- 
ticular  thoughts  and  desires  of  their  hearts  to 
him.  But  it  is  good  always  to  close  thus,  or 
that  it  be  understood  so  when  not  expressed, 
that  we  resign  that  matter  to  him,  lo  make 
his  own  choice  of  things,  and  use  his  own 

,  way.    Only,  we  entreat  his  favor,  and  his 


J  EE.  X17.  7 — 9.] 


CONFESSION  AND  PRAYER  OF  FAITH. 


553 


owning-  ot  us  and  our  condition,  that  he  be  for 
as,  and  do  for  us.  And  this  is  safe  and  sweet, 
(o  let  him  choose.  We  often  perplex  our- 
selves about  that  which  lies  not  in  our  way, 
and  is  not  our  part  to  ])e  busied  in,  what 
things  shall  be  done.  This  he  undertakes  for, 
and  will  be  careful  of  Be  not  afraid.  Psalm 
xxxvii.  5.  Commit  thy  way,  roll  Ihy  u-ay 
upon  the  Lord,  trust  on  the  Lord,  and  he  will 
do  it ;  there  is  no  more.  In  the  Hebrew  it  is, 
Turn  it  over  to  him  and  be  quiet,  and  let  him 
alone,  he  will  do  well  enough.  Besides  that 
vhere  is  all  reason  for  it,  if  men  knew  what 
peace  of  spirit  there  is  in  this  resignation, 
they  would  choose  it  before  any  way  that 
can  be  thought  on,  and  it  never  yet  repented 
any  one  who  chose  it. 

For  thy  name's  sake.]  This  is  the  unfail- 
ing argument,  which  abides  always  the  same, 
and  haih  always  ihe  same  force.  When 
nothing  is  to  be  said  for  ourselves  but  guilti- 
ness, yet,  this  name  we  may  plead  by. 
Though  our  iniquities  testify  against  us, 
though  they  return  us  harsh  answers  as  from 
thee,  speaking  nothing  but  just  refusals  of  our 
suits  and  rejecting  of  ourselves  ;  yet.  Lord, 
remember  thy  own  name,  and  thence  we 
look  for  a  better  answer.  Do  according  to 
that,  and  for  thy  name's  sake,  in  regard  of 
strangers  and  enemies,  who  will  reproach 
thy  name  in  the  ruin  of  thy  people ;  and  for 
thy  name's  sake,  in  regard  of  thy  people's 
Knowledge  of  it,  and  confidence  in  it,  wlio,  in 
all  iheir  straits  do  expect  their  help  from 
thee.  Thy  promises  made  to  them,  and  thy 
covenant  made  wiih  them,  in  these  is  thy 
name,  and  they  do  cast  themselves,  and  rely 
on  it.  Now  see  whether  it  may  be  for  thy 
glory  to  cast  them  off.  Whatsoever  we  are, 
look  to  thine  own  interest,  and  do  for  that ; 
Do,  for  thy  name's  sake. 

In  the  next  clause,  and  more  particularly, 
a  part  of  his  name  is  expressed,  The  hove  of 
Israel.  That  i«  a  piece  of  his  royal  style,  by 
which  he  is  known  in  the  world.  And  in  this 
appeareth  the  wonderful  condescension  and 
Dounty  of  God  to  his  creatures,  to  choose  a 
number  of  persons,  that  he  will  pass  his  word 
to  engage  himself  to  be  theirs  ;  not  only  to 
forgive  us  who  are  his  debtors  by  our  sins, 
but  to  become  himself  a  debtor  to  us  by  his 
promises.  And  he  loves  to  be  challenged  on 
them,  and  pressed  with  them.  It  is  a  maxim 
of  court-lhitiery,  that  mean  persons  ought  nol 
to  urge  the  kiiiir  u|)on  his  word  ;  but  this 
greatest  Kinsr  takes  nothing  better  from  the 
meanest  of  his  subjects.  Lord,  thou  hast  un- 
dertaken the  protection  of  us  thy  people,  and 
now  it  lies  upon  thee,  in  j)oint  of  honor  and 
truth,  to  save  us. 

The  hope  of  Israel.]  All  people,  and  every 
man,  have  somiMhing  they  rely  on  and  make 
their  hope;  and  they  often  choose  the  most 
broken,  rotten  hopes,  which  fail  while  they 
'ean  upon  ihetn,  and  n  n  only  fail,  but  hurt 
vheiii,  as  Egypt  |>roved  to  Israel.  Therefore 
It  pr'j^ed  as  a  broken  reed,  which  not  only 
70 


flew  in  pieces  in  their  hand,  but  the  splinter 
ran  up  into  their  hand  and  hurt  them.  How 
often  have  we  found  it  thus,  been  disappoint- 
ed, yea,  wounded  by  our  vain  hopes,  pierced 
through  with  many  sorrows,  as  the  apostle 
speaks  of  those  who  love  and  trust  in  riches! 
Therefore  Job  disclaims  this,  that  he  never 
made  gold  his  god  :  If  I  made  gold  my  hope. 
Ch.  XXXI.  24.  There  is  a  word  of  one  of  his 
friends  speaking,  ch.  xxii.  25,  rendered  in  our 
translation.  The  Almighty  shall  be  thy  de- 
fence :  the  word  is  in  the  original,  The  Al- 
mighty shall  be  thy  gold.  To  those  who  ac- 
count and  make  him  so,  he  is  both  ;  for  they 
are  rich  enough  in  him  in  the  greatest  scar- 
city, and  safe  enough  in  him  in  the  greatest 
danger. 

But  you  who  would  look  to  it,  inquire  each 
of  you  well,  what  is  thy  hope,  what  thy  iieart 
readiest  turns  to,  and  cleaves  to,  to  comfort 
itself  in  any  distress.    Yea,  in  the  times  of 
the  greatest  ease,  what  are  thy  thoughts  most 
biased  and  turned  to,  with  oftenest  and  deep- 
I  est  delight  ?    Canst  thou  say.  It  is  to  God  ? — 
1  that  thy  heart  hath  got  that  retreat,  and  is  in- 
ured  to  that,  is  frequently  there  throughout 
the  day,  turns  by,  or  passes  over  husband  or 
wife,  or  children,  or  riches,  or  delights,  or 
anything  that  would  stand  in  tiiy  way,  and 
stays  not  till  it  be  at  him,  and  there  rejoices 
in  his  love,  sits  down  under  his  shadow  con- 
tent and  happy,  willing  that  others  should 
rule  and  share  tiie  world  as  they  please  ?  that 
thou  dost  not  envy  them,  yea,  canst  even  pity 
;  thern  with  all  tiieir  gay  hopes  and  great  proj- 
lects?  yea,  thouifh  thou  do  not  find  at  all 
I  limes,  yea,  possibly,  scarcely  at  any  time,  that 
sensible  presence  of  God,  and  shining  of  his 
;  clear-discovered  love  u[ion  thee,  yet  liiat  still 
:  he  is  thy  hope,  that  tli  ni  art  at  a  point  with 
!  all  the  world,  hast  given  u[)  all  to  wait  on 
him,  and  hojje  lor  him,  and  dost  account  tliy- 
self  richer  in  thy  simple  hoi)e,  than  the  rich- 
est man  on  earth  is  in  his  possessions  ?  Tiiea 
art  thou  truly  so,  for  the  hope  of  God  is  heav- 
en begun,  and  heaven  complete  is  the  posses- 
I  sing  of  him. 

I  The  Savior  thereof .]  Not  exempting  them 
I  from  trouble,  but  saving  in  time  (f  trouble. 
j  The  reason  for  Israel's  trouble  lay  in  their 
j  own  sin  and  security,  and  their  abuse  of  ease 
I  and  peace :  but  yet,  they  were  not  left  to  per- 
ish in  trouble,  but  had  a  Savior  in  lime  of 
I  trouble,  who  was  then  most  eyed  and  consid- 
'  ered,  and  found  to  be  so.  In  the  furnace,  both 
the  faith  of  his  people,  and  the  truth  of  hie 
I  promises,  are  tried. 

The  children  of  God  are  much  beholden  to 
j  their  troubles  for  clear  experiences  of  them- 
I  selves  and  of  God.    And  in  this,  indeed,  is 
the  virtue  of  faith,  to  apprehend  God  as  a 
Savior  in  time  of  trouble,  before  he  .  ome 
forth  and  manifest  himself  to  be  so. 

Wicked  men  have  their  times  of  trouhlt 
too,  even  here,  but  have  no  title  to  this  Sa- 
vior. Sure  fortunes  fahri — if  themselves  or 
friends,  or  means  can  help  them,  it  is  well , 


054 


CALAMITIES  CAUTIOUSLY  INTERPRETED.         [Ser.  XXV II. 


but  lliey  can  jjo  no  furiher.  But  tlip  churcli, 
the  Israel  of  Giid,  when  all  help  fails  on  all 
hands,  has  one  great  resource  that  can  not 
fail,  tlie  strong  God,  her  hope  and  Sm^ior  in 
limv  of  trouble,  or  siraitness.  When  there  is 
no  way  out,  he  can  cut  out  away  through  the 
sea,  can  divide  their  enemies,  or  wliatsoever 
is  their  grealest  dilliculiy .  and  mal;e  a  way 
through  the  middle  of  ii.  Well  might  Moses 
say,  Il'ifipi/  art  thoti,  O  Israel .'  Who  is  Uke 
unto  thee,  O  people  saved  by  the  Lord,  the 
shield  of  thy  help?  Deut.  xxxiii.  29.  Men 
are  under-saviors  in  outward  deliverances  ;  so 
it  is  said,  Neh.  ix.  27  :  Tliou  gavest  them  sa- 
viors ;  hut  he  is  the  Savior.  All  others 
have  tlieir  commissions  from  him.  All  their 
strength  and  all  their  success,  is  from  him. 
Without  him,  no  strength,  nor  wit,  nor  cour- 
age, avail:  all  falls  to  pieces  when  he  with- 
draws his  hand.  Give  ws  help  from  trouble, 
for,  says  the  church,  vain  is  the  help  of  man. 
We  have  found  this,  if  any  people  ever  did, 
and  have  had  real  lectures  to  teach  us  to 
cease  from  man;  for  wherein  is  he  to  be  ac- 
counted of?  Yet,  still  we  are  ready  to  look 
to  mtiltitudes,  or  to  the  quality  of  men  who 
undertake  for  us.  But  if  we  do  so,  yet  shall 
that  prove  our  shame  and  disappointment  : 
and  it  shall  never  go  Vv^ell  with  us,  till  our  de- 
pendance  and  confidence  come  clear  off  from 
all  creatures,  and  we  fix  it  entirely  upon  him 
who  is  our  shield  and  our  strens'th. 

Thus  should  a  soul  in  particular  distress, 
especially  in  inward  trouhle,  wherein  the  help 
lies  most  inconitnunicahly  and  immediately 
in  God's  own  hand,  learn  to  trust  liim.  And 
though  thou  art  not  clear  in  thy  interest  as  a 
believer,  yet,  plead  thy  interest  as  a  sinner, 
which  ihou  art  sure  of  God  in  our  flesh  hath 
enlarged  the  nation  of  Israel;  all  that  will  but 
look  to  him,  he  is  their  Savior:  Look  unto 
me,  and  be  saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
Now,  he  hath  styled  himself  the  Savior  of 
sinners;  press  him  by  that:  Lord,  I  do /oo/; 
to  thee,  do  for  me,  O  Savior  !  Hel.'),  I  am  in 
trouble.  So,  in  any  particular  temptation, 
either  to  sin,  or  to  distrust  because  of  sin, 
say,  Now,  Lord,  here  is  an  opportunity  for 
thy  power  and  thy  grace  to  glorify  itself. 
And  though  thou  find  thyself  sinking,  yet  be- 
lieve, and  thou  shall  not  drown. 

Why  shouldest  thou  be  as  a  stranger  in  the 
land?]  The  main  thing  desired  was,  his 
constant  abode  with  them.  Some  passing 
deliverances  he  had  wrought;  but  that  was 
not  enough.  lie  came  as  a  stranger,  to  stay 
a  ni<rhl,  refreshed  them  with  a  transient  vis- 
it, and  away  again.  Thus  we  may  say.  He 
hath  still  done  for  us.  When  we  were  in 
desperate  straits,  he  came  and  helped  ;  but 
then  we  were  left  to  such  counsels  as  '.,red  us 
new  troubles.  He  hath  not  so  evidently 
yet  taken  up  his  resilience,  though  he  hath 
built  him  a  house  among  us,  we  trust,  with 
that  intention,  to  dwell  with  us.  This  we 
are  to  sue  and  entreat  for. 

Whu  art  thou  as  one  astonished  ?]  Why  art 


thou  looking  on  our  miseries  as  an  amazed 
stranger,  as  not  concerned  in  our  affairs  or 
condition,  and  not  caring  what  heccjmes  of 
us  ;  as  a  traveller,  but  ])assing  through,  and 
having  no  further  interest  or  regard  :  or,  r/s  a 
mighty  man  that  can  not  save,  as  Samson  af- 
ter his  hair  was  cut,  either  as  wearied  or 
bound,  or  somewhat  hindered,  though  strong 
enough. 

Now,  Lord,  look  not  on.  Own  our  suffer- 
ings, and  bestir  thyself.  Make  it  appear  that 
thou  faintest  not,  neither  art  weary,  nor  that 
anything  can  stand  before  thee  and  be  thy 
hinderance.  Break  through  our  sins,  the 
greatest  hinderance  of  all ;  let  not  these  stop 
thy  way,  nor  bind  thy  hands.  For  Ihou  art 
in  the  midst  of  us:  though  we  see  thee  not  so 
in  thy  work  as  we  desire,  yet  here  we  know 
thou  art  in  thy  special  good-will  and  power, 
as  thou  art  in  our  profession  and  homage 
done  to  thee  as  our  king  among  us.  That 
testifies  thy  presence.  Thou  canst  not  so 
hide  thyself,  but  there  are  still  some  charac- 
ters of  thy  presence.  And  ive  are  called  by 
thy  name,  thy  people.  If  we  perish,  ihy  name 
being  upon  us,  what  becomes  then  of  it  ? 
Therefore  leave  us  not.  Though  thou  strike 
us,  yet  stay  with  us,  and  we  shall  live  in  hope 
of  favor  and  deliverance :  if  thou  go  not 
away,  our  cries  and  prayers,  at  least  our  mis- 
eries, will  move  thee. 

These  things  make  up  our  plea.  We  are  a 
most  unworthy  people,  yet,  we  are  called  by 
his  name,  are  in  covenant  with  him  ;  so,  his 
glory  is  interested.  We  must  not  let  go 
this.  And  what  advantage  so  great  as  to  have 
our  interest  wrapped  up  in  his?  His  glory 
and  our  safety  are  in  one  bottom,  to  sink  and 
swim  together  ;  then,  there  is  no  hazard. 
Therefore  keep  close  io  his  interest  and  his 
covenant,  and  beg  his  staying  with  us,  and 
arising  for  us,  and  lay  hold  on  him  for  this  end. 
It  is  a  pleasant  violence  ;  and  were  there 
many  to  use  it  toward  him,  our  deliverance 
were  not  far  off. 


SERMON  XXVII. 

CALAIMITIES  CAUTIOUSLY  INTERPRETED. 

Luke  xiii.  1 — 9. 

There  were  present  at  that  season  some  that  told  him 
of  the  (Jalileans,  whose  blood  Pilate  had  mingled 
with  their  sacrifices. 
And  Jesus  answering,  said  unttt  them,  Piipjiosc  ye  that 
these  r.alileans  were  sinners  above  all  the  (lalileans, 
because  they  siifiered  such  things  ? 
I  tell  you,  nay  ;  but  except  yc  repent,  ye  shall  all  like- 
wise perish. 

Or,  those  eighteen,  upon  whom  the  tower  in  Siloani 
lell,  and  slew  them,  think  ye  that  they  were  sinners 
above  all  men  that  dwelt  in  .Jerusalem  ? 
I  tell  you,  nay  ;  but  except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  like- 
wise perish. 

He  spake  also  this  parable  :  A  certain  man  had  a  fig 
1  tree  planted  in  his  vineyard,  and  ho  came  ami  sough 
I     (Vuit  thereon,  and  fojud  none. 


Luke  xiii  1—9.]       CALAMITIES  CAUTIOUSLY  INTERPRETED. 


555 


Then  sakl  lie  unto  tlie  dresser  of  the  vineyard,  Behold, 
these  three  years  I  come  seeking  fruit  on  this  tig- 
tree,  and  find  none  ;  cut  it  down  ;  why  cunibereth 
it  tlie  gronnd  i 

And  he  answering,  said  unto  him.  Lord,  let  it  alone 
tliis  year  also,  till  I  shall  dig  about  it,  and  dung  it  ; 

And  if  it  bear  Iruit,  well  ;  and  if  not,  then  after  that 
thou  shalt  cut  it  down. 

It  is  no  easy  or  common  thing,  to  give  God's 
ways  a  right  consiruction.  For  the  most  part 
we  either  let  them  pass  unobserved,  or  un- 
frame  our  observations,  looking  those  princi- 
ples and  passions  of  our  own,  which  give 
.hings  another  shape  or  color  than  what  is 
.ruly  iheirs.  This  was  here  the  case.  This 
sad  accident  should  have  been  observed  by 
them  who  heard  it,  and  might  have  been 
spoken  of  by  them  to  very  good  purpose  ;  but 
our  Savior  knew  well  what  they  meant  by 
reporting  the  story,  and  what  thoughts  they 
had  of  it  and  of  themselves,  and  by  his  answer, 
it  Would  seem,  all  was  not  right  with  ihera. 

The  fact  here  related,  we  have  not  any 
further  account  of  in  sacred  history,  nor  any- 
thing that  we  can  clearly  and  certainly  call  it 
in  any  human  writer.  It  is  commonly  con- 
ceivetl  to  have  been  done  at  .Terusalem,  where 
Pilaie  abode,  and  that  his  power  was  exerci- 
sed and  done  upon  the  followers  of  that  Judas 
of  Galilee  spoken  of.  Acts  v.  37,  being  such  as 
denied  it  lo  be  lawful  to  give  obedience  to  the 
Roman  empire,  or  to  offer  sacrifice  lor  the  in- 
terest and  ifood  of  it.  When  they,  it  is  likely, 
were  coming  together  to  offer  at  .lerusaiein, 
and  to  n)aintain  and  to  spread  their  opinion, 
Pilate  conn  s  upon  them,  a  id,  while  they  were 
at  the  solemnity,  makes  a  sacrifice  of  ihem  to 
that  authority  they  refused  to  sacrifice  for: 
whether  justly  or  nor,  we  can  not  determine  ;  1 
our  Savior  does  not  ;  but  if  it  was  just,  surely 
it  was  very  tragical  and  severe,  suitable  to  j 
that  character  Philo  gives  of  /us  disposition 
who  acted  it.  ['AiiciXtnTov.]  The  straining  of 
justice,  commonly  breaks  it :  a  little  of  the 
other  side,  is,  of  the  two,  doubtless,  the  safer 
extreme. 

However,  this  stroke  and  all  others,  as  they 
come  from  the  Su|)rerae  Hand,  are  righieous. 
Whatsoever  he  the  temper  or  intent  of  the 
lower  actor,  and  virhatsoever  be  the  nature  of 
the  action,  as  from  him,  the  sovereign  hand 
of  God  is  in  them,  and  chief  in  them.  Amos 
iii.  6:  Shall  there  he  evil  in  a  cihj,  and  the 
Lord  hal/i  not  done  it  1  And  yet  all  evils,  as  he 
doth  them,  are  both  good  and  well  done.  Ac- 
tions, whether  voluntary  or  casual,  as  these 
two  here,  yet  do  powerfully  issue  from  the 
First  Being  and  Worker,  and  as  from  him,  are 
both  unalterably  certain  and  unquestionably 
just.  Thus  they  who  here  report  it  seem  to 
have  judged  of  this  passage,  that  it  was  a  just 
punishment  of  sin.  And  oii.  oavior  contpsis 
not  about  thai,  but  rather  seems  to  agree  to 
thrm  so  far,  and  draws  that  warning  out  of  it : 
he  only  corrects  the  misconceit  it  seems  they 
were  in,  in  thrusting  it  too  far  off  from  them- 
selves, and  throwing  it  too  heav}  upon  those 
who  sacrificed. 


Think  ye  that  thetj  were  suiners  Though 
it  were  an  error  to  think  that  all  temporal  evils 
are  intended  of  God  as  punishments  of  some 
particular  guiltiness,  and  so  to  be  taken  as  in- 
fallibly concluding  against  either  persons  or 
causes  as  evil,  yet  certainly  the  hand  of  God, 
either  upon  ourselves  or  others,  is  wisely  to 
be  considered,  and  it  will  very  often  be  found 
a  punishment  pointing  to  the  sin.  And  it  is 
certainly  an  argument  of  very  great  stiffness 
and  pride  of  heart,  not  to  observe  and  acknowl- 
edge it,  and  a  sure  presage  either  of  utter  ruin, 
or,  at  least,  of  a  heavier  stroke.  Any  one  who 
is  set  against  the  Lord,  and  will  not  be  hum- 
bled, whether  by  what  he  sees  on  others,  oi 
what  he  feels  on  himself,  shall  find  he  hath 
an  overmatch  to  deal  with,  that  will  eithei 
bow  him  or  break  him.  Isa.  xxvi.  11:  Lord, 
when  ihij  hand  is  lifted  up,  they  will  not  see , 
but  they  shall  see  and  be  ashamed  for  their 
envy  at  the  people  ;  yea,  the  fire  of  thine  ene- 
mies shall  devour  them. 

Think  ye  that  Ihei/  were  sinners  above  all 
men  that  dwelt  at  Jerusalem  ?]  Our  Savior 
goes  not  to  search  into  the  quarrel,  and  to  con- 
demn or  justify  either  the  one  party  or  the 
other  ;  that  was  not  for  his  purpose.  His  aim 
was  to  rectify  the  mistake  of  those  he  spoke 
to,  and  to  draw  forth  from  their  own  relation 
what  was  most  proper  fur  their^usc.  Much 
of  our  hearing  and  telling  of  news,  hath  little 
of  this  in  it  ;  and  with  most  persons  it  doth 
not  relish,  to  wind  things  that  way.  Some, 
even  good  persons,  do  accustom  themselves, 
and  take  too  much  liberty,  to  an  empty,  fruit- 
less way  of  entertainment  iv.  this  kind.  And 
if  we  make  any  remark,  it  commonly  keeps 
abroad,  comes  not  home  to  ourselves.  Be  it 
a  judgment,  be  the  persons  great  sinners  in  a 
sinful  course,  yet,  they^re  not  always  the 
greatest  of  all  because  they  sulfer  and  others 
escape,  as  we  readily  think,  and  the  Jews 
here  concluded  concerning  these  Galileans. 

God  is  to  be  adored  and  reverenced,  who 
useth  his  own  freedom  in  this  ;  he  does  in- 
justice to  none,  yel  chooses  them  on  whom 
he  will  do  exemplary  justice,  and  whom  he 
will  let  pass,  and  gives  no  acc(.iunt  of  this  to 
any.  Some  less  wicked  have  been  ensamples 
to  them  who  were  much  more  wicked  than 
they. 

Do  not  flatter  yourselves  in  the  conceit  of 
exception  from  some  stroke  which  others  in 
the  same  way  with  you  have  fallen  under,  or 
even  from  some  course  which  others  have  run 
and  smarted  in, and  bear  yourselves  big  upon 
the  name  of  God's  people.  But  tremble  be- 
fore the  Lord,  and  search  your  own  hearts. 
And  let  us  think,  though  we  may  not  be  guilty 
of  such  public  scandalous  evils  as  others  fall 
into  and  arc  punished  for,  yet  how  full  are 
we  of  secret  malice,  pride,  and  lusts,  &c.,  and 
let  us  wonder  at  the  patie'ice  of  God  to  our- 
selves, while  multitudes  have  been  swept 
away  round  abuut  us.  Think  you  that  they 
who  have  died  by  sword  or  j)estilence  of  late, 
were  greater  sinners  than  we  who  are  left 


556 


CALAMITIES  CAUTIOUSLY  INTERPRETED. 


[Ser.  xxvn. 


behind  ?  Oil,  no!  hut  except  trc  repent,  tre  shall 
all  likewise  perish.  EnoUfrh  of  ihese  arrows 
are  still  in  God's  arsenal,  and  though  lie  Hse 
not  these  to  us,  yet  remember,  death,  and 
judgment,  and  eternity,  are  before  us,  and  they 
call  fo;  wise  and  speedy  consideration  and  re- 
pentance. 

Oh  I  \ M  that  go  on  in  your  transgressions 
after  all  that  is  come  upon  us,  who  were 
drunkards  and  swearers,  and  are  so  yet,  what 
think  you  ?  Because  the  heat  of  public  judg- 
ment is  abated,  is  there  no  more  fear  ?  Have 
you  made  a  covenant  with  bell  and  death, 
and  gained  quarter  of  them  that  they  will  not 
seize  on  you  ?  Oh  !  that  will  never  hold  : 
they  will  not,  they  can  not  keep  to  you.  And 
if  you  hold  on  your  course  when  the  day  of 
visitation  shall  come,  how  much  heavier  shall 
it  be  by  all  this  forbearance  !  You  shall  wish 
you  had  been  cut  off  with  the  first.  The  day 
is  at  hand,  when  it  shall  be  easier  for  them 
than  for  you.  Only,  the  advantage  is,  that 
there  is  an  exception  yet  sounding  in  your 
ears  ;  Except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise 
perish. 

I  beseech  you,  my  brethren,  enter  into  your 
own  hearts,  and  be  not  always  out  of  your- 
selves, and  so  out  of  your  wits.  Consider  the 
Lord's  ways  and  your  own,  and  wonder  at  bis 
goodness.  Why  am  not  I  made  an  example 
toothers,  as  well  as  so  inany  have  been  made 
examples  to  me  ?  Now  let  me  fall  down  at 
his  feet,  and  besr  of  him,  that  as  he  hath  not 
made  me  an  example  of  justice  all  this  while, 
he  may  now  make  me  an  example  of  tnercy 
and  free  grace  to  all  that  shall  look  on  hitn. 

Our  Savior,  to  their  reported  instance  adds 
another  himself,  which  was,  no  doubt,  late 
and  recent  with  them,  to  the  same  purpose, 
and  in  the  same  strain  :  Think  ye  that  they 
were  siiinfs  above  all  men  that  tlivelt  in  Jer- 
usale'rti?  x  lell  you,  nay  ;  hut  except  ye  re- 
pent, ye  shall  all  likewise  perish.  Not  just 
after  the  same  particular  manner,  but  the  like- 
ness is  in  perishing. — You  shall  as  certainly 
perish  as  they  are  perished.  And  this,  to 
many  impenitent  sinners,  is  verified  in  their 
being  cut  off,  even  by  some  temporal  judg- 
ment,after  long-abused  forbearance,  and  often, 
very  like  those  they  have  seen  instances  of, 
and  would  not  be  warned  by.  Thus,  it  was 
fulfilled  to  many  of  the  Jews,  in  the  death  of 
many  thousands  of  them,  and  the  destruction 
of  their  city  by  the  Romans,  in  which  there 
was  much  likeness  with  the  two  explanatory 
judgments  here  mehiioned.  But  the  universal 
and  far  more  dismal  perishing  of  unrepenting 
sinners,  is  that  deain  which  lies  unseen  on 
the  other  side  of  that  death  we  see  and  are  so 
afraid  to  look  on.  Oh  !  saw  we  the  other, 
this  would  api>ear  nothing  :  it  would  be  the 
only  terrible  of  all  terribles  indeed.  And  how 
terrible  soever,  it  is  the  unfailing  attendant 
of  impenitence.  These  God  hath  linked  to- 
gether, and  no  creature  can  sever  them,  con- 
tinuance in  sin  and  perishing,  repentance  and 
life.    It  is  faith,  indeed,  that  lays  hold  on  our 


pardon  and  life  in  Christ,  and  by  that  we  are 
justified  and  saved  ;  yet,  so  as  this  is  still  true, 
so  that  the  other  nowise  crosses  it,  that  there 
IS  no  life  without  repentance.  And  this 
wrongs  not  the  gospel  at  all,  to  preach  and 
profess  re()entance ;  yea,  it  is  a  prime  point 
of  preaching  the  gosjiel.  And  here  we  find 
the  great  preacher  of  the  gospel,  who  is  him- 
self the  great  substance  and  subject  of  the 
gospel,  this  is  his  doctrine.  Except  ye  repent,' 
ye  shall  all  likeu  ise  perish.  There  is  no  right 
preaching  of  the  gospel,  but  the  doctrine  of 
repentance  must  be  in  it:  the  drawing  and 
turning  of  the  soul  to  God,  from  whom  it  is 
gone  out  by  sin,  this  the  gospel  aims  at.  And 
there  is  no  right  preaching  of  repentance, 
without  the  gospel.  The  law  indeed  dis- 
covers sin,  but  that  is  not  enough  to  work 
repentance  :  for  that,  there  must  be  a  door  of 
I  hope  opened  to  a  sinner,  at  which  he  may 
I  come  in,  hoping  to  be  pardoned  and  acceptea 
upon  returning  and  submitting.  This  the 
gospel  alone  does.  And  whensoever  the 
prophets  preached  repentance,  there  was 
somewhat  that  always  expressed  or  imported 
the  notion  of  the  gospel,  God  declaring  him- 
self reconciled,  ready  to  forgive  and  receive 
him. 

Now,  not  to  speak  of  the  nature  of  repent- 
ance, which  here  were  pertinent,  I  shall  only 
desire  you  to  seek  to  know  the  nature  of  it,  by 
feeling  the  power  of  it  within  you.*  Oh  ! 
happy  they  that  do  !  Were  the  sweetness  of 
it  known,  we  might  persuade  most  by  that; 
but  i.'iat  can  not  be  known,  till  we  be  persuaded 
and  brought  to  repentance, — the  delight  there 
is  in  those  tears,  the  pleasure  in  crucifying  sin, 
even  the  most  pleasant  sins.  The  soul,  then 
in  its  right  motion  when  turning  toward  God, 
finds  itself  moved  sweetly  ;  but  it  is  thrown, 
and  distorted,  and  disappointed  in  turning 
from  him  and  following  sinful  lusts.  But 
here,  necessity  is  the  argument,  the  highest 
necessity.  If  it  may  be  necessary  for  you  not 
to  perish,  then  it  is  necessary  for  you  to  re- 
pent.  Had  any  of  you  an  ulcer,  though  pain- 
ful to  be  lanced,  yet,  if  told  it  must  he,  else 
you  would  die,  that  would  make  a  man  call 
for  it  and  entreat  it.  Lord  what  is  the  mad- 
ness of  the  minds  of  men  !  Do  we  believe 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  after  all  that  is  here, 
as  perishing  and  being  saved,  eternal  death 
and  eternal  life,  and  can  we  think  on  any- 
thing else,  so  as  to  forget  these,  or  to  be 
negligent  and  unresolved  concerning  them, 
and  yet,  eat  and  please  the  fiesh,  and  seek  to 
make  other  things  sure,  and  leave  these  to 
their  hazard  ?  The  God  who  made  your 
hearts,  persuade  them  !   For  who  else  can  ? 

The  parable  that  follows,  teaches  the  same 
doctrine  of  repentance,  and  that  upon  the  mo- 
tive of  patience  and  forbearance,  lie  spake 
also  this  parable  :  A  certain  man  had  a  Jig- 
tree  planted  in  his  vineyard.    Par'  iculars 

•  Mnlo  sentire  cnmpvnctwnem  quam  scire  ejus  ilefini- 
tinnem.  I  would  rathcr/ff/  coinimnction,  than  luJOW 
its  (kfin'/.'m.    TTh'tmas  a  Keniuis 


LUKE  xiii.  1—9.]     CALAMITIES  CAUTIOUSLY  INTERPRETED. 


557 


s'.iould  not  be  overstrained  and  squeezed  for 
morality.  The  main  is,  God's  dispensation, 
and  his  expectation  in  his  orchard,  the  church. 

Our  Savior  is  much  in  this  way  of  teach- 
ing. He  calls  in  natural  things  to  serve  spir- 
itual ends  ;  and  so  all  are  fit  to  do,  had  we 
the  faculty  to  exact  it.  A  spiritual  mind 
draws  that  which  is  symbolical  with  it,  out 
of  all.  Such  may  fruiii'uUy  walk  in  gardens 
and  orchards,  and  feed  on  the  best,  though 
they  stir  nothing.  The  great  Lord  is  him- 
self the  planter  of  his  vineyard  ;  his  own 
hand  sets  e^ch  tree.  And  the  soil  is  fruitful, 
there  is  sap  and  moisture.  This  is  to  be  un- 
derst  )od  of  his  visible  church  and  ordinances ; 
for  the  planting  here  signifies  that.  Christians 
are  often  compared  to  things  living,  growing 
and  fruitful ;  as  to  the  vine  and  fig-tree,  Isa. 
v.,  &ZC.  There  is  high  engagement  to  be  so, 
and  real  Christians  are  truly  so. 

And  he  sought  fruit  thereon.]  Good  rea- 
son had  he  so  to  do,  having  so  planted  it. 
Those  trees  which  are  left  wild  in  the  barren 
wilderness,  no  fruit  is  to  be  expected  on 
'.hem  ;  at  least,  no  garden-fruit,  such  as  grows 
in  the  garden  of  God.  Some  natures  have 
some  kind  of  fruit,  and  some  sweeter  than 
others, but  they  are  but  wild  figs.  God's  deliffht 
is  to  come  into  his  garden,  and  there  eat  his 
pleasant  fruits.  Cant.  iv.  16.  Natural  men 
may,  after  their  fashion,  be  temperate,  and 
patient,  and  charitable  ;  but  to  believe  on 
God,  and  love  him  above  themselves,  and 
froai  such  principles  to  do  all  they  do,  this  is 
not  to  be  expected. 

Now,  all  that  are  planted  in  the  church  of 
God,  are,  in  name,  such  trees  as  should  have 
their  sap  in  them,  that  is,  faith  and  love,  and 
bear  answerable  fruits :  they  are  called 
trees  of  rig/Ucous7iess,  and  planting  of  the 
Lord,  that  he  may  he  glorified.  Isa.  Ixi.  3.  He 
himself  knows  who  are  indeed  such,  and 
knows  that  the  rest  can  bear  no  such  fruit  ; 
yet,  in  regard  of  outward  dispensations  and 
their  own  profession,  he  speaks  after  the  man- 
ner of  men  ;  he  comes  and  seeks  fruit.  Men 
who  think  they  may  live  in  the  face  of  the 
church,  and  make  use  of  her  ordinances,  and 
yet  be  as  excusably  barren  of  all  the  fruits 
of  holiness,  as  if  they  srew  upon  a  common 
heath,  it  is  strange  they  should  not  conceive 
their  own  folly,  and  know  that  God  reckons 
otiiervvise,  and  according  to  the  arround  that 
he  hath  set  them  in,  and  the  manuring  he  be- 
stows on  them,  lo<jks  for  some  suitable  fruit. 

But  the  most  are  thus.  They  consider  not 
what  they  are  ;  think  it  a  kind  of  imperti- 
nent irnporiuniiy,  to  press  thetn  to  holiness, 
to  meekness,  to  bearing  wrongs,  to  heaven- 
ly-mindcdness,  to  spiritual  activity,  and  use- 
fulness to  others.  Why,  it  is  strange.  What 
think  ye,  my  brethren,  are  we  Christians,  or 
are  v/e  not  ?  We  have  a  name  that  we  are 
active,  and  are  dead.  Congreirations  are  fill- 
ed with  such  ;  and  when  the  Lord  comes  and 
reeks  fru.it,  in  the  greatest  part  he  finds  none. 
Ii  lies,  oaths,  and  cursings,  were  the  fruits, 


there  are  enough  of  these  ;  But  zeal  for  God, 
love  to  our  brethren,  self-denial,  humility,  if 
these  be  they,  alas  !  where  are  they  ?  So 
much  preaching,  sabbaths,  fasts,  and  cove- 
nants ;  and  where  is  fruit,  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit  ?  Oh  !  there  are  empty  leaves,  and 
some  promising  greenness,  but  the  most  be- 
lie the  hope  they  give.  And  we  of  this  land, 
who  are  engaged  so  high,  what  could  have 
been  done  more  for  us  ?  Though  lying  far 
north,  yet  have  we  much  of  the  gospel  sun- 
shine, and  are  bound  by  our  own  promise,  and 
covenant,  and  solemn  oath  to  God,  to  be  more 
fruitful.  Yet  this  is  still  broke.  Who  that 
had  seen  our  first  meltings  into  tears,  or  fair 
buds  of  stirring  zeal,  could  have  imagined 
we  should  have  been  so  barren  ? 

Then  said  he  unto  the  dresser  of  his  vine- 
yard.] Now  the  conference  with  the  vine- 
dresser about  it,  though  that  is  much  for  the 
fulness  of  the  parable,  yet  may  iinjjly  God's 
imparting  of  his  thoughts  concerning  his 
church  to  his  faithful  ministers.  Such  are 
included  under  that  name  here.  For  he 
blames  not  the  vine-dresser  as  negligent,  but 
complains  of  the  barrenness  of  the  tree.  In 
the  cutting  down,  there  may  be  some  point- 
ing at  church  censure,  but  I  conceive,  it  is 
rather  to  express  God's  purpose  concerning 
the  barren  tree,  than  to  give  order  or  com- 
mand about  it.  Doubtless,  the  Lord  would 
have  his  vine-dressers  sensible  of  the  fruit- 
lessness  of  his  trees,  though  it  be  not  by  any 
notable  neglect  on  their  part. 

These  three  years.]  This  expresses  the 
great  patience  of  God,  that  spares  so  long, 
and  speaks  not  of  cvltins  down  at  the  very 
first.  Thus,  of  long  time  hath  he  waited 
on  many  of  us,  many  more  years  than  to  the 
strict  number  here  named  ;  on  how  many  of 
us  a  great  part  of  our  lifetime!  Whence  is 
it  that  we  are  not  afraid  of  this  word  here 
sounding,  as  it  were,  in  our  ears  ?  Cut  it 
doivn:  why  troubles  it  the  ground?  As  if 
he  should  say,  It  takes  up  room,  and  does  no 
good,  yea,  hinders  and  prejudices  others,  as 
all  ungodly,  fruitless  persons  in  the  church 
of  God  do. 

The  vine-dresser  entreats  and  obtains  ont 
year  more.  This,  the  faithful  laborers  of 
God  will  not  fail  to  do:  to  preaching  to  his 
people,  they  will  join  much  prayer  for  them, 
that  they  may  be  made  fruitful,  ami  mean- 
lime,  be  spared  and  not  perish  in  their  un- 
fruiifulness.  They  will  double  their  endeav- 
ors in  the  sense  of  that  danger  ;  to  all  other 
pains  will  add  this,  the  watering  of  thera 
with  tears.  God- is  gracious,  and  easy  to  be 
entreated,  and  forbears  yet,  and  waits.  Oil  I 
it  is  not  too  late.  Any  of  you  that  at  length 
are  stirred  up  to  any  real  desires  of  fruitl'ul- 
ness  to  him,  I  dare  give  you  warrant  to  be 
confident,  not  only  of  his  forbearing  upon 
such  a  desire,  but  of  his  favorable  acceptance 
of  it  as  a  good  sign,  yea,  as  already  a  begin- 
ning of  fruit.  Indeed,  in  case  of  people's  re« 
maining  barren  after  all,  the  end  will  be  to 


S58 


PRESENT  DUTY. 


ISer.  xxviri 


be  cut  ilotrn  ;  and  -o  evei  f  f'ruiiless  and  piti- 
less person  ainon<;  you,  it  is  not  lung  to  that 
dav  :  it  will  he  upon  you  before  you  are 
aware.  As  John  prenehed,  VV/c  iixc  is  hud 
uiilo  the  root  of  the  trees;  therefore,  ei'ery 
tree  which  hrnii^eth  not  forth  good  fruit,  is 
fteicn  down  and  cast  into  the  Jire.  Matt.  iii.  10. 
God  is  taking  his  axe,  as  it  were,  and  fetch- 
ing liis  stroke  at  you,  and  you  know  not  how 
soon  it  may  liiriif,  and  you  be  cut  down,  and 
cut  ofTfroni  all  hojies  for  ever,  never  to  see  a 
day  of  grace  more,  nor  liear  a  sermon  more 
— cut  down  and  cast  into  the  fire  lo  burn,  and 
thai  never  to  end.  Oh,  for  some  soul  to  be 
rescued,  were  it  even  now  !  Oh  !  To-day, 
to-day,  if  you  will  hear  his  twice,  harden  not 
your  hearts. 

Real  Christians,  thougli  not  altogether  bar- 
ren— that  is  impossilile,  yet,  are  n(jt  so  plen- 
tifully fruitful  ;  there  is  little  of  the  increase 
of  God,  such  as  he  may  be  invited  to  his 
garden  for,  such  as  the  vine-dressers  may  re- 
joice in,  yea,  the  Master  liimself.  The  Lord 
maketh  a  kind  of  boast  of  us,  as  men  will 
do  of  trees  in  their  gardens,  that  they  have 
much  fruit,  though  possibly  a  meaner  ap- 
pearance and  show  than  most  of  the  rest. 
01),  what  a  joy  and  glory  were  it  to  our 
God,  to  have  unobserved,  obscure  Christians 
abounding  in  sweet  spiritual  fruits,  laden  with 
fruit,  and  hansing  down  the  head,  stooping 
the  lower,  siill  the  more  humble  for  it ;  re- 
ferring all  to  himself,  living  to  him,  doing  all 
for  him  !  But  alas !  we  are  empty  vines, 
bringing  forth  truit  to  ourselves,  serving  our 
own  wills  and  humors,  and  barren  to  him. 
But  for  this  end  are  we  planted  in  the  house 
of  God,  and  ingrafted  into  the  Son  of  God, 
that  blessed,  living  Root,  to  be  fruitful  to  his 
praise.  It  is  iii.T  credit  ;  Herein  is  my  Father 
glorified,  that  ye  bear  much  fruit  j  so  shall  ye 
be  my  disciples,  John  xv.  8. 

Now,  for  this  are  requisite,  1st,  Mucl 
prayer.  For  thoush  here  he  speaks  as  an  or- 
dinary master,  yet  it  is  his  secret  influence 
which  does  all.  Hos.  xiv.  8  :  From  me  is  thy 
fruit  found,  and  prayer  draws  down  that. 
2dly,  'Much  faith  in  Christ,  living  to  him, 
and  drawing  sap  from  him.  Such  as  do  all 
in  his  strength,  and  are  much  in  application 
and  attraction,  shall  be  found  the  most  abun- 
dant in  all  choice  and  sweet  fruits  ;  they  who 
abide  in  him,  that  is,  who,  in  the  very  act- 
ings of  faith,  any  more  in  him  than  many 
ethers  who  yet  are  in  him.  But,  alas  !  this 
is  a  thing  of  which  men  speak  much,  and 
knew  little. 


SERMON  XXVITI. 

(Preacliod  befiire  ilie  Lord  Conmiissi.irier  and  the  Parlia- 
ment, 14tli  November,  I(>G9.) 

prf:sent  duty. 
John  xxi.  22. 

 What  is  that  to  thee  ?    Follow  thou  me. 

Of  all  that  ever  lived  on  earth,  the  most 
blessed  was  this  handi'ul  and  small  company 


our  Lord  chose  for  his  constant  aticndanis,  to 
see  his  divine  miracles,  enjoy  his  sweetest  com- 
pany, and  to  hear  his  divine  doctrine.  What 
a  holy  flame  of  love  must  have  burned  in 
their  hearts,  \\  ho  were  always  so  near  the 
Sun  of  R iiilileousness  !  It  was  indeed  a  sad 
hour,  wherein  that  was  erlipsed,  and  the 
Tiord  of  life  lay  dead  in  the  grave.  And  wiual 
a  delude  of  joy  was  in  iheir  hearts  when  he 
rose  again  !  And  what  a  transport  was  it 
when  they  f^aw  him  ascend,  and  a  shining 
cloud  kissmg  his  feet,  and  parting  him  from 
them  !  In  the  interval,  as  lie  had  risen  hiin- 
j  self,  so,  he  is  raising  them  from  their  unbe- 
I  lief.  St.  Peter,  not  content  with  a  bare  for- 
saking  of  his  Lord,  had  also  denied  him.  But 
he  falls  not  a  quarrelling,  but  speaks  of  love 
to  him,  and  blows  up  these  sparks  of  love 
with  this  threefold  question,  J.ovrsl  thnu  mcl 
St.  Peter  answers  ftrvenily,  but  most  mod- 
estly, whereupon  his  Lord  gives  him  a  ser- 
vice suitable  to  his  hive.  Feed  my  sheep  ;  for 
which  none  are  qualified  but  they  that  love 
him.  But  when  he  grows  bold  to  ask  a  ques- 
tion, he  gets  a  grave  check,  and  a  holy  com- 
mand. What  is  that  to  thee?  Follow  thou 
!  me.  This  was  a  transient  stumbling  in  one 
who,  but  latelv  recovered  of  a  great  disease, 
did  not  walk  firmly.  But  it  is  the  common 
track  of  most,  to  wear  out  their  days  with 
impertinent  inquiries.  There  is  a  natural  de- 
sire in  men  to  know  the  things  of  others,  and 
to  neglect  their  own,  and  to  be  more  con- 
cerned about  things  to  come,  than  about 
things  present.  And  this  is  the  great  subject 
of  conversation.  Even  the  weakest  minds 
must  descant  upon  all  things  ;  as  if  the  weak- 
est capacities  could  judge  of  the  greatest 
matters,  by  a  strange  levelling  of  understand- 
ings, more  absurd  and  irrational  than  that  of 
fortunes  !  Most  men  are  beside  themselves, 
never  at  home,  but  always  roving.  It  is  true, 
a  man  may  live  in  solitude  to  little  purpose, 
as  Pomitian  catching  flies  in  his  closet.  JVla- 
r.v  noisome  thoughts  break  in  upon  one  when 
'  alone  ;  so  that  when  one  converseth  with 
'  himself,  it  bad  need  be  said,  Vide,  ut  sit  cum 
bono  viro.  A  man  a. one  shall  be  in  worse 
company  than  are  in  all  the  world,  if  he 
bring  not  into  him  better  company  than  him- 
self or  all  the  world,  which  is,  the  fellow- 
ship of  God  and  the  Holy  Spirit.  Yet,  the 
matters  of  the  church  seem  to  concern  all, 
and  so  indeed  they  do  :  but  every  sober  man 
must  sav,  all  truths  are  not  alike  clear,  alike 
necessary,  nor  of  alike  concernment  to  every 
one.  Christians  should  keep  within  their 
line.  Whether  it  be  the  will  of  our  great 
Master,  that  the  order  that  hath  been  so  long 
in  the  church  continue  in  it,  or  not.  What  is 
that  to  thee  ?  It  is  certainly  a  great  error,  to 
let  our  zeal  run  out  from  the  excellent  things 
of  religion,  to  matters  which  have  little  or  no 
connexion  with  them.  A  man,  though  he 
err.  if  he  doit  calmly  and  meekly,  may  be  a 
better  man  than  ho  who  is  stormy  and  furi- 
ously orthodox.    Our  business  is  to  follo\? 


Jd  HN  xxi.  22.J 


PRESENT  DUTY. 


559 


Jesus,  and  trace  his  life  upon  earth,  and  to 
wiit  his  return  in  the  clouds.  Had  I  a  strong 
voice,  as  it  is  the  weakest  alive,  yea,  could  I 
lift  it  up  as  a  trumpet,  I  would  sound  a  re- 
treat from  our  unnatural  contentions  and  ir- 
religious strivings  for  religion.  Oh  !  what 
are  the  tilings  we  fight  for,  compared  to  the 
great  things  of  God  ?  There  must  be  a 
great  abatement  of  the  inwards  of  religion, 
when  ii  runs  wholly  to  a  scurf.  God  forbid 
any  should  think,  that  except  all  be  accord- 
ing to  our  mind,  we  must  break  the  bond  of 
peace.  If  we  have  no  kindness  to  our  breth- 
ren, yet,  let  us  have  pity  on  our  mother,  and 
not  tear  her  bowels.  And,  indeed,  next  to 
the  grave  and  the  silent  shades  of  death,  a 
collage  in  some  wilderness  is  to  be  wished 
for,  10  mourn  for  the  pride  and  passion  of 
mankind.  How  do  the  profane  wretches 
lake  advantage  from  our  breaches  I  But  if 
there  be  such  here,  because  of  the  wealcness, 
folly,  and  passions  of  some  men,  is  it  follv  to 
follow  Jesus  ?  Are  some  ridiculous,  and  for 
that,  will  you  turn  religion  into  ridicule  ?  If 
you  do,  it  will  at  least  turn  to  a  Sardonic 
laughter.  Because  we  contend  for  a  little, 
is  the  whole  an  invention?  Will  the  pillars 
be  branglcd,  because  of  the  swarms  of  flies 
that  are  abi;ut  them  ? 

There  is  an  Eternal  Mind  that  made  all 
things,  that  stretched  out  the  heavens,  and 
formed  the  spirit  of  man  within  him.  Let  us 
tremble  before  him,  and  love  the  Lord  Jesus. 
Our  souls  have  indelible  characters  of  their 
own  excellency  in  them,  and  deep  apprehen- 
sions of  another  state,  wherein  we  shall  re- 
ceive according  to  what  we  have  done  upon 
earth.  Was  not  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  de- 
clared to  be  such  by  his  resurrection  from  the 
dead?  Ilaih  there  not  been  received  and 
transmitted  to  us,  through  all  ages,  many 
martyrs  following  him  through  racks  anil 
fires,  and  their  own  blood,  to  his  glory  ?  And 
shall  we  throw  off  all  these  ?  Better  be  the 
poorest,  weakest,  and  most  distempered  per- 
son upon  earth,  with  the  true  fea:  .  God, 
than  ihe  greatest  wit  and  highest  mind  m  the 
world,  if  prolime,  or,  though  not  such,  if  void 
of  any  just  or  deep  sense  of  the  fear  of  God. 
For  a  Iivin<r  dojr  is  better  than  a  dead  lion. 
Some  religious  persons  are  perhaps  weak  per- 
sons, yet,  in  all  ages,  there  have  been  greater 
nobles  and  more  generous  souls  truly  religious, 
than  ever  were  in  the  whole  tribe  of  atheists 
and  libertines. 

Let  us,  therefore,  follow  the  holy  Jesus. 
Our  own  concernments  concern  us  not,  com- 
pared to  this.  What  IS  that  to  thee  ?  may  be 
said  of  all  things  beside  this.  All  the  world 
is  one  great  impcrtinency  to  him  who  con- 
templates (rod  and  his  Son  Jesus.  Great 
things,  coaches,  furniture,  or  houses,  concern 
the  outward  pomp  or  state  of  the  world,  but 
not  the  necessities  of  life;  neither  can  they 
give  ease  to  him  that  is  pinclu'd  with  any  one 
trouble.  He  that  li;ith  iwen.y  houses,  lies  but 
in  one  at  once  ;  he  that  hath  twenty  dishes  on 


his  table,  hath  but  one  oelly  to  fill.  So  it  is, 
ad  supervacua  sudalur.  Ail  are  uncertain  ; 
sudden  storms  fall  on,  and  riches  fly  away  as 
a  bird  to  heaven,  and  leave  those  who  look 
after  them,  sinking  to  hell  in  sorrow. 

A  Christian  is  solicitous  about  nothing.  If 
he  be  raised  higher,  it  is  liiat  he  desires  not  : 
if  he  fall  down  again,  he  is  where  he  was. 
A  well-fixed  mind,  though  the  world  should 
crack  about  him,  shall  be  in  quiet.  But  when 
we  come  to  be  stretched  on  our  deathbed, 

\  things  will  have  another  visage.  It  wi'l  pull 
the  rich  from  his  treasure,  strip  the  great  of 

^  his  robes  and  glory,  and  snatch  the  amorous 
gallant  from  his  fair,  beloved  mistress,  and 
from  all  we  either  have  or  grasp  at.  Only 
sin  will  stick  fast  and  follow  us.  Those  black 
troops  will  clap  fatal  arrests  on  us,  anddeliv- 
er  us  over  to  the  jailer.  Are  these  contri- 
vances, or  the  dark  dreams  of  melancholy  ? 
All  the  sublimities  of  holiness  may  be  arrived 
at,  by  the  deep  and  profound  belief  of  these 
things.  Let  us,  therel'ore,  ask,  "Have  we 
walked  thus,  and  dressed  our  souls  by  this 
pattern  ?" 

But  this  hath  a  nearer  aspect  to  pastors, 
I  who  should  be  copies  of  the  fair  original,  and 
i  second  patterns whofollownearcrChrist ;  they 
should  be  imitating  him  in  humility,  meek- 
ness, and  contempt  of  the  world,  and  partic- 
ularly in  afi'cction  to  souls,  feeding  the  flock 
of  God.  Siiould  we  spare  labor,  when  he 
spared  not  his  own  blood  ?  How  precious 
must  the  sheep  be,  who  were  bought  at  so 
high  a  rate  as  the  blood  of  God!  Oh,  for 
;  more  of  this  Divine  and  evangelic  heat,  in- 
stead of  our  distempered  heat.  This  is  the 
substance  of  religion,  to  imitate  him  whom  we 
worship.  Can  there  be  a  higher  or  nobler 
design  in  the  world,  than  to  be  Godlike, 
and  like  Jesus  Christ  ?  He  became  like  us, 
that  we  might  be  more  like  him.  He  took 
our  nature  upon  him,  that  he  might  transfuse 
his  into  us.  His  life  was  a  track  of  doing 
good,  and  suff'ering  ill.  He  spent  the  days  in 
preaching  and  healing,  and  often  the  nights 
in  prayers.  He  was  holy,  harmless,  and  un- 
drjiled,  and  separate  from  stinncrx.  How, 
then,  can  heirs  of  wrath  follow  the  Lamb  of 
God,  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world  ? 
Humility,  meekness,  and  charily,  were  the 
darling  virtues  of  Christ.  He  came  to  exjiiate 
and  to  extirpate  our  pride  :  and  when  that 
Majesty  did  so  humble  himself,  shall  a  worm 
swell  ?  No  grace  can  be  where  the  mind  is 
so  swelled  with  this  airy  humor.  He  was 
meek,  and  reviled  not  again  :  nor  did  he  vent 
his  anger,  though  he  met  with  the  greatest 
injuries.  The  rack  of  his  cross  could  make 
him  confess  no  anger  again|t  those  who  were 
draining  him  of  his  life  antf  blood  :  all  he  did 
was  to  pray  for  them.  Charity  was  so  dear 
to  him,  that  he  recommended  it  as  the  char- 
acteristic by  which  all  might  know  his  disci- 
ples, if  they  loved  one  another.  But  alas  !  by 
this  may  all  know  we  are  not  his  disciples, 
because  we  hate  one  another.    But  that  we 


f)60 


LOVE  THE  FULFILLING  OF  THE  LAW. 


[Sek.  XXIX. 


may  imitate  him  in  his  life,  we  must  run  the 
back-trade,  and  beuin  wiili  his  death,  and 
must  die  wiilioul  him.  Love  is  a  deatii.  He 
that  loves,  is  <jcme  and  lost  in  God,  and  can 
esteem  or  take  pleasure  in  nothinij  beside 
him.  When  the  bitter  cup  of  the  Father's 
wrath  was  presented  to  our  Lord,  one  drop 
of  this  elixir  of  love  and  union  to  the  Father's 
will,  sweetened  it  so,  thai  he  drank  it  over 
without  more  complaining.  This  death  of 
Jesus  mystically  acted  in  us,  must  strike  down 
all  things  else,  and  he  must  become  our  all. 
Oh,  that  we  WLuld  resolve  to  live  to  him  that 
died,  and  to  be  only  his,  and  humbly  to  follow 
tlie  crucified  Jesus!  All  else  will  be  quickly 
gone.  How  soon  will  the  shadows  that  now 
amuse  us,  and  please  us,  fly  away  ! 


SERMON  XXIX. 

I.OVE  THE  FULFILLING  OF  THE  LAW. 

Matthew  xxii.  37,  39. 

Jesus  said  unto  him,  Thou  shall  love  the  Lord  thy 
Grd  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and 
with  all  thy  mind  ;  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 

The  wisdom  and  meekness  of  our  Savior  is 
ti»e  more  remarkable,  and  shines  the  bright- 
er, by  the  malice  of  his  adversaries  ;  and  their 
cavils  and  tempting  questions  occasion  our 
benefit  and  instruction.    Thus  was  it  here. 

We  see,  the  words  are  the  sum  of  the  whole 
law,  and  they  are  taken  out  of  the  book  of 
the  law.  They  are  called  two  commandments  : 
the  former  is  the  sum  of  the  first ;  the  latter, 
of  the  second  table.  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
thy  God.  That  is,  says  our  Savior,  the  first 
and  sreat  commandment.  Our  first  obligation 
is  to  God,  and  then,  through  him  and  for  his 
sake,  to  men. 

The  second  is  like  unto  it.]  Seems  it  not 
rather  contrary  than  like  to  the  former  ? — 
Whereas  in  the  former,  the  whole  stream  of 
love  is  directed  in  one  undivided  current  tow- 
ard God,  this  other  commandment  seems  to 
cut  out  a  new  channel  for  it,  and  to  turn  a 
great  part  of  it  to  men  :  Thi/  neighbor  as  thy- 
self. No,  they  are  not  contrary,  if  we  take 
them  ri<,'ht  ;  yea,  they  do  not  only  agree,  but 
are  inseparable.  They  do  not  divide  our  love, 
but  they  set  it  in  its  righ  t  course  ;  first,  wholly 
to  God,  as  the  sovereign  good,  and  only  for 
himself  worthy  to  be  loved  :  and  then,  back 
from  him,  it  is,  according  to  his  own  will,  de- 
rived downward  to  our  neighbor.  For  then 
only  we  love  both  ourselves  and  others  aright, 
when  we  make  our  love  to  hiin  the  reason 
and  the  rule  of  both.*  So,  then,  our  love  is 
not  to  be  inimediaiely  divided  between  him 
and  our  neighbor,  or  any  creature,  but  is  first, 
all  to  be  bestowed  on  him,  and  then  he  dif- 

•  Minus  enim  te  amat,  f]ui  aliquid  prater  te  amat, 
et  non  propter  te.  Incipiat  homo  amare  Dcum,et  non 
amabil  in  homine  nisi  Deum. — Augustine 


fuses,  by  way  of  reflection,  so  miwh  of  it  upon 
others  as  he  thinks  lit.  Being  allri'i  his  bands, 
it  is  at  his  dis])osal  :  and  tliat  which  he  dis- 
poses elsewhere  (as  here.  Than  shalt  love  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself),  it  is  not  taken  ofl'  from 
him,  but  abiding  still  in  him,  as  in  its  naf.-ral 
])lace  (as  light  doth  in  the  sun),  flows  f.rth 
iix)in  him  by  such  an  emanation  as  divides  it 
not ;  as  beams  flow  forth  from  the  sun  and 
eiiligluen  the  air,  and  yet,  are  not  cut  ofT 
from  it. 

So,  then,  the  second  is  like  unto  the  first, 
because  it  springs  from  il,  and  depends  on  it. 
It  commands  the  same  affection  ;  love,  in  the 
former,  placed  on  God,  and  in  this,  extended 
from  him  to  our  neighbor.  And  it  is  like  unto 
it  in  this  too  ;  that,  as  the  former  is  the  sum 
of  the  first  table,  and  so,  the  first  and  great 
commandment,  so  this  is  the  sum  of  the  sec- 
ond table,  and  therefore  next  unto  it  in  great- 
ness and  importance. 

All  the  precepts  that  can  be  found  in  the 
law  and  the  prophets,  are  reducible  to  these, 
and  all  obedience  depends  upon  this  love.  1. 
Consider  this,  how  these  arc  the  sum  of  this 
law.  2.  Consider  them  particularly  in  them- 
selves. 

Not  only  because  it  is  love  that  facilitates 
all  obedience,  and  is  the  true  principle  of  it, 
that  makes  it  both  easy  to  us,  and  acceptable 
to  God  ;  but  beside  this,  that  love  disposes 
the  soul  for  all  kinds  of  obedience,  his  very 
act  of  love  is  in  effect  all  tliat  is  commanded 
in  the  law.  For  the  first,  laid  to  the  first  ta- 
ble, it  is  so  much  one  with  the  first  com- 
mandment, that  it  expresses  most  filly  the 
positive  of  it,  opposite  to  that  which  is  there 
forbidden  :  Thon  shalt  have  no  nlher  gods  be- 
fore me — but  shalt  have  me  alone  for  thy 
God,  or  bestow  all  Divine  affection,  and  all 
worship  that  is  the  sign  and  expression  of  it, 
upon  me  only.  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
God  ivith  all  thy  heart,  and,  if  thou  lovest  me 
alone,  thou  wilt  not  decline  to  any  kind  of 
false  worship.  Tbal  were  to  vitiate  thy  af- 
fection, and  to  break  that  conjugal  love  and 
fidelity  to  which  thou  art  bound  by  covenant, 
being  my  people  as  by  a  spiritual  marriage. 
Therefore  is  idolatry  so  frequently  called,  in 
the  phrase  of  the  prophets,  adultery  and  w/t- 
cleanness. 

And,  in  the  letter  of  that  second  command- 
ment, the  Lord  uses  that  word  which  in  its 
usual  sense  is  conjugal,  and  relates  to  mur- 
riage,  /  am  a  jealous  God  ;  and,  in  the  closf 
of  that  precept,  expresseih  particularly  this 
afTection  of  love,  as  particularly  interested  in 
it,  though  extended  to  all  the  rest,  /  show 
mercy  to  thousands  of  them  that  love  me. 

Is  it  not  a  genuine  property  of  love,  tohon- 
or  and  respect  the  name  of  those  whom  we 
love  ?  And  therefore  it  is  altogether  incon- 
sistent with  the  love  of  God,  to  vilify  and 
abuse  his  name. 

They  that  understand  the  true  use  of  that 
holy  rest  of  the  sabbath  day,  do  know  that  it 
frees  the  soul,  and  makes  it  vacant  from 


Matt.  xxii.  37,  39.]     LOVE  THE  FULFILLING  OF  THE  LAW. 


56] 


earthly  things  for  this  purpose,  that  it  may 
fully  apply  itself  to  the  worship  and  contenni- 
plation  of  God,  and  converse  with  him  at 
greater  length.  Then,  certainly,  where  there 
IS  this  entire  love  to  God,  this  will  not  weigh 
heavy,  will  be  no  grievous  task  fo  i;  :  it  will 
embrace  and  gladly  obey  this  fourth  com- 
mamlment,  not  only  as  its  duly,  but  as  its  jreat 
delight.  For  there  is  nothing  that  love  re- 
joices in  more,  than  in  the  converse  and  so- 
ciety of  those  on  whom  it  is  placed  :  it  would 
willingly  bestow  most  of  its  time  that  way, 
and  thinks  all  hours  too  short  that  are  spent 
in  that  society.  Therefore  not  only  they  who 
profanely  break,  but  they  who  keep  it  heavily 
and  wearily,  who  find  it  rather  a  burden  than 
a  delight,  may  justly  suspect  that  the  love  of 
God  is  not  in  them  ;  but  he  that  keeps  his  day 
cheerfully,  and  1  jves  it,  because  on  it  he  may 
more  liberally  solace  and  refresh  himself  in 
God,  may  safely  take  it  as  an  evidence  of  his 
love  to  God. 

Now,  ih^t,  after  the  same  manner,  the  love 
of  our  neiglibor  is  the  sum  of  the  second  ta- 
ble, the  Apostle  St.  Paul  proves  it  for  us  clear- 
ly and  briefly,  Rom.  xiii.  9,  10.  All  the  com- 
mandments touching  our  neighbor,  are  for  the 
guarding  of  him  from  evil  and  injury.  Now, 
Love  U'orketh  no  ill  to  his  neighhor ;  there- 
fore love  is  the  fulfillin<T  of  the  law.  He 
that  truly  loves  his  neighbor  as  himself, 
will  be  as  loath  to  wrong  him,  as  to  wrong 
himself,  eiiher  in  that  honor  and  respect 
that  is  due  to  him,  or  in  his  life,  or  chas- 
tity, or  goods,  or  good  name,  or  to  lodge  so 
much  as  an  unjust  desire  or  thought,  because 
that  is  the  beginning  and  conception  of  real 
injury.  In  a  word,  the  great  disorder  and 
crookedness  of  the  corrupt  heart  of  man,  con- 
sists m  self-love  :  it  is  the  very  root  of  all  sin 
b<Hh  against  God  and  man,  for  no  man  com- 
mits any  offence,  but  it  is  in  some  way  to 
profit  or  please  himself  It  was  a  high  enor- 
mity of  self-love  that  brought  forth  the  very 
first  sin  of  mankind.  That  was  the  bait  which 
took  more  than  either  the  color  or  the  taste 
of  the  apple,  that  it  was  desirable  for  knowl- 
edge ;  it  was  in  that,  that  the  main  strength 
of  the  temptation  lay.  Ye  shall  he  as  goiJs, 
knowing  good  and  evil.  And  was  it  not  deep 
self-love  to  affect  I  hat  ?  And  it  is  slill  thus  : 
though  we  feel  the  miserable  fruits  of  that 
tree,  the  same  self-love  possesses  us  still ;  so 
that,  to  please  our  own  humors  and  lusts,  our 

Cride,  or  covetousness,  or  voluptuousness,  we 
reak  the  law  of  God,  the  law  of  piety,  and 
of  equity  and  charity  to  men.    Therefore  the 
apostle,  foretelling  the  ini(|uities  and  impie- 
ties of  the  lar#  times,  that  men  should  he  cov- 
etous, boasters,  he,  and  lovers  of  pleasures 
more  than  lovers  of  God — sets  that  on  the 
front,  as  the  chief,  leading  evil,  and  the  source 
of  all  the  rest — lovers  of  their  ownselves : 
-Men  shall  he  lovers  of  themselves,  therefore, 
covetous  ;  and  lovers  of  pleasures  more  than  j 
lovers  of  (rod,  because  lovers  of  their  own-  I 
tttves.  2  Tim.  -ii.  2.    Therefore,  this  is  the  ' 
71 


sum  of  that  which  God  requires  in  his  holy 
law,  the  reforming  of  our  love,  which  is  the 
commanding  passion  of  the  soul,  and  wheels 
all  the  rest  about  with  it  in  good  or  evil. 

And  its  reformation  consists  in  this,  in  re- 
calling it  from  ourselves  unto  God,  and  reflect- 
ing it  from  God  to  our  brethren.  Loving  our- 
selves sovereignly  by  corrupt  nature,  we  are 
enemies  to  God,  and  haters  of  him,  and 
can  not  love  our  neighbers  but  only  in  refer- 
ence to  ourselves,  and  so  far  as  it  profits  or 
j^leaseth  us  to  do  so,  and  not  in  order  and  re- 
spect unto  God.  The  highest  and  the  true 
redress  of  this  disorder,  is  that  which  we 
have  here  in  these  two  precepts  as  the  sub- 
stance of  all :  first,  that  all  our  love  ascend  to 
God,  and  then,  that  what  is  due  to  men  de- 
sc^nd  thence,  and  so,  passing  that  way,  it  is 
purified  and  refined,  and  is  subordinated  and 
conformed  to  our  love  of  him  above  all,  which 
is  the  first  and  great  commandment. 

Here  we  have  the  supreme  object  of  love 
to  whom  it  is  due — The  Lord  thy  God,  and 
the  measure  of  it,  which  is  indeed  to  know 
no  measure* — With  all  thy  heart,  all  thy 
soul,  and  all  thy  mind.  For  which,  in  Deut. 
vi.  5,  we  have  all  thy  strength.  Luke  hath 
both.  The  difference  is  none,  for  all  mean 
that  the  soul,  and  all  the  powers  of  it,  should 
unite  and  combine  themselves  in  their  most 
intense  and  highest  strength,  to  the  love  of 
God,  and  that  all  the  workings  of  the  soul 
and  actions  of  the  whole  man,  be  no  other 
than  the  acting  and  exercise  oJ'this  love. 

He  accounts  not  nor  accepts  of  anything  we 
can  offer  him,  if  we  give  not  the  heart  with 
it ;  and  he  will  have  none  of  that  neither,  un- 
less he  have  it  all.  And  it  is  a  poor  all,  when 
we  have  given  it,  for  the  great  tiod  to  accept 
of.  If  one  of  us  had  the  affection  of  a  hun- 
dred, yea,  of  all  the  men  in  the  world,  yet 
could  he  not  love  God  in  a  measure  answera- 
ble to  his  full  worth  and  goodness.  All  the 
glorified  spirits,  angels,  and  men,  that  are  oi 
shall  be,  in  their  perfections,  loving  him  with 
ihc  utmost  extent  of  their  souls,  do  not  alio- 
gether  make  up  so  much  love  as  he  deserves. 
Yet  he  is  pleased  to  require  our  heart,  and 
the  love  we  have  to  bestow  on  him  ;  and 
though  it  is  infinitely  due  of  debt,  yet  he  will 
take  it  as  a  gift:  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart. 
Prov.  xxiii.  26. 

Therefore,  the  soul  that  begins  to  offer  it- 
self to  him,  although  overwhelmed  with  the 
sense  of  its  own  unworthiness  and  the  mean- 
ness of  its  love,  yet  may  say.  Lord,  I  ana 
ashamed  of  this  gift  I  bring  thee,  yet,  be- 
cause thou  callest  for  it,  such  as  it  is,  here  it 
is  ;  the  heart  and  all  the  love  1  have,  I  olfer 
unto  thee,  and  had  I  ten  thousand  times 
more.  It  should  all  he  thine.  As  much  as  I 
can,  I  love  thee,  and  I  desire  to  be  able  to 
love  thee  more.  Although  I  am  unworthy  to 
be  admitted  to  love,  yet,  thou  art  most  wor- 
thy to  be  loved  by  me,  and  besides,  thou  dost 

•  Modus  est  nescire  modum,  subtilius  ista  diatin? 
giUTe  facile  est  iriagis  quam  suliduia. 


THE  LAW  WRITTEN  UPON  THE  HEART. 


[Ser.  XXX 


allow,  yea,  commandcst  nic  \o  love  thee.  My 
loving  of  iheo  adds  notliitig  to  iliee,  but  it 
makes  iiic  liai)i)y  ;  and  though  it  be  true,  the 
love  and  the  fieari  I  oflVr  thee,  is  infinitely 
too  little  for  thee,  yet  there  is  nothing,  be- 
sides thee,  enough  for  it. 

The  Lord,  or  Jehovah,  thy  God.']  There  lie 
the  two  great  reasons  of  love,  n)  :iyatririn'  and 
ri  iiidv — Jehovah,  the  Spring  of  being  and 
/roodncss,  intinitely  lovely  ;  all  the  beauty 
tnd  excellencies  of  the  creatures,  are  but  a 
irop  of  that  ocean  : — and,  Thi/  God,  to  all  of 
as  the  Author  of  our  life,  and  of  all  that  we 
enjoy  ;  who  spread  forth  those  heavens  that 
'oil  about, us  and  comfort  us  with  their  light, 
ind  motions,  and  influences,  and  established 
'his  earth  that  sustains  us  ;  who  furnisheth 
as  with  food  and  raiment,  and  in  a  word  (and 
n  is  the  apostle's,  Acts  xvii.  25),  who  gives 

us,  ^oihii  Kill  irnjiji/  KOI  ra  Travra,  life,  and  breath, 

and  all  things  ;  and,  to  the  believer,  his  God 
in  a  nearer  propriety,  by  redemption  and  pe- 
culiar covenant.  But  our  misery  is,  the  most 
of  us  do  not  study  and  consider  him,  what  he 
is  in  himself  and  what  to  us  ;  and  therefore 
we  do  not  love  him,  because  we  know  him 
not. 

And  thy  neis.hhor  as  thyself.]  If  we  will 
not  confess  anil  suspect  ourselves,  how  much 
we  are  wanting  in  the  former,  yet  our  mani- 
fest defect  in  this  latter  will  discover  it. 
Therefore,  the  apostle,  Rom.  xiii.  10,  speaks 
of  this  as  all,  because,  though  inferior  to  the 
other,  yet  connected  with  it,  and  the  surest 
«ign  of  it.  For  these  live  and  die  together, 
rhe  apostle  St.  John  is  express  in  it,  and 
gives  those  hypocrites  the  lie  plainly:  Jf  any 
man  say,  I  love  God,  and  hatcth  his  brother, 
he  is* a  liar.  1  John  iv.  20.  We  have  no  real 
way  of  expressing  our  love  to  God,  but  in  our 
converse  with  men  and  in  the  works  of  love 
toward  them. 

Certainly,  'hat  sweet  affection  of  love  to 
God,  can  n  consist  with  malice  and  bitter- 
ness of  spirit  against  our  brethren.  No,  it 
sweetens  and  calms  the  soul,  and  makes  it  all 
love  every  way. 

As  thyself.]  As  truly  both  wishing  and,  to 
thy  power,  procuring  his  good,  as  thy  own. 
Consider  how  much  unwilling  thou  art  to 
be  injured  or  defamed,  and  have  the  same 
thoughts  for  thy  brother  ;  be  as  tender  for 
him.  B-it  how  few  of  us  aspire  to  this  de- 
gree of  charity  ! 

Thy  very  enemies  are  not  here  excluded. 
If  self-love  be  still  predominant  in  thee,  in- 
stead of  the  love  of  God,  then  thou  wilt  make 
thine  own  interest  the  rule  of  thy  love  ;  so 
when  thou  art,  or  concei vest  thou  art,  wronged 
by  any  one,  the  reason  of  thy  love  ceaseth. 
But  if  thou  love  for  God,  that  reason  abides 
siill.*  God  haih  commanded  me  to  love  my 
enemies,  and  he  gives  me  his  example;  he 
does  good  to  the  wicked  who  offend  him. 

And  this  is  indeed  a  trial  of  our  love  to  God. 

•  Amicus  (lilii^cndiis  in  I  ?o,  et  iniinirus  propter 
uear:  [.Vugi'stuje.] 


One  hath  marred  thee;  that  gives  thee  tti 
think  that  thou  hast  no  cause  to  love  him  for 
thyseli':  be  it  so,  self-love  forbids  thee,  but  the 
love  of  God  commands  thee  to  love  him.  God 
says.  If  ihou  lovesi  me,  love  him  lor  my  sake. 
And  il'ihy  love  to  God  be  sincere,  the  J  will 
be  glad  of  the  occasion  to  give  so  good  a  tes- 
timony of  it,  and  lind  a  pleasure  in  that  which 
others  account  so  dilllculi  and  painful 


SERMON  XXX. 

THE  LAW  WRITTEN  UPON  THE  HEART. 

Hebrews  viii.  10. 

For  this  is  the  covenant  that  I  will  make  with  the 
house  of  Israel  after  those  days,  saith  the  Le.rJ  ;  I 
will  r,ui  my  laws  into  their  mind,  and  write  them  in 
their  hearts  ;  and  1  will  be  to  them  a  God,  and  they 
shall  be  to  ine  a  people. 

The  two  great  evils  that  perplex  sensible 
minds,  are,  the  guiltiness  of  sin,  and  the 
I  power  of  it.  Therefore,  this  new  covenant 
hath  in  it  two  promises  opposite  to  these  two 
evils  ;  free  pardon  to  remove  the  guilt  of  sin, 
and  the  subduing  of  its  power  by  the  law  of 
God  written  in  the  heart.  Of  this  latter  only 
for  he  present.  Having  spoken  somewhat 
o  le  sense  of  the  law  in  the  ten  command- 
n  Its,  and  of  the  sum  of  it  in  two,  this  re- 
mains to  be  considered  as  altogether  neces- 
sary for  obedience,  and  without  which,  all 
hearing  and  speaking,  and  all  the  knowledge 
of  it,  will  be  fruitless.  Though  it  be  made 
very  clear  and  legible  without,  we  shall  only 
reacl  it,  and  not  at  all  keep  it,  unless  it  be 
likewise  written  within. 

Observe,  in  the  first  place,  the  agreement 
of  the  law  with  the  gospel.  The  gospel 
bears  the  complete  fulfilling  of  the  law,  and 
the  satisfying  of  its  highest  exactness,  in  our 
surety  Jesus  Christ,  so  that,  in  that  way,  noth- 
ing is  abated  ;  but  besides,  in  reference  to 
ourselves,  though  it  take  oflf  the  rigor  of  it 
from  us,  because  answered  by  another  for  us, 
yet  it  doth  not  abolish  the  rule  of  the  law, 
but  establishclh  it,  Rom.  iii.  31.  It  is  so  far 
from  tearing  or  blotting  out  the  outward 
copies  of  it,  that  it  writes  it  anew,  where  it 
was  not  before,  even  unthin,  sets  it  upon  the 
heart  in  sure  and  deep  characters.  We  see 
this  kind  of  writing  of  the  law,  is  a  promise 
for  the  days  of  the  gospel  cited  out  of  the 
prophet  Jeremiah,  ch.  xxxi.  33. 

There  is  indeed  no  such  writing  of  the  law 
in  us,  or  keeping  of  it  by  us,  as  will  hold  good 
for  our  justification  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  there- 
fore, that  other  promise  runs  combined  with 
it,  the  free  forgiveness  of  iniquity.  But  again, 
there  is  no  such  forgiveness  as  sets  a  man 
free  to  licentiousness  and  contempt  ol  Gcd  % 
law,  but,  on  the  contrary,  binds  him  jviore 
strongly  to  obedience;  therefore,  to'iliat 
sweet  promise  of  the  pardon  of  sin,  is  iiisepa- 
ral  ly  joined  this  other  of  the  inward  writing 


Heb.  viii.  10.] 


THE  LAW  WRITTEN  UPON  THE  HEART. 


563 


of  the  law.  The  heart  is  not  washed  from 
^he  guiltiness  of  sin  in  the  blood  of  Christ, 
that  it  may  wallow  and  defile  itself  again  in 
the  same  puddle,  but  it  is  therefore  washed, 
that  the  tables  or  leaves  of  it  may  be  clean, 
for  receiving  the  pure  characters  of  that  law 
of  God  which  is  to  be  written  on  it. 

Concerning  this  writing,  there  are  three 
things  you  may  mark  :  1.  What  it  is.  2.  What 
is  its  necessity.    3.  Who  is  its  writer. 

1.  What  it  is.  The  writing  of  the  law  in 
the  heart,  is  briefly  no  other  than  the  renew- 
ing and  sanctifying  of  the  heart  by  the  infu- 
sion of  grace,  which  is  a  heavenly  light  that 
gives  the  soul  to  know  God  aright.  And  that 
is  added  here,  as  the  same  with  the  writing 
of  the  law  in  the  heart,  and  an  illustration  of 
it.  They  shall  all  know  me,  from  the  least  of 
them  to  the  srreatesl.  And  this  light  bring- 
eth  heat  with  it.*  That  right  knowledge  of 
God  beinsr  in  the  soul,  begets  in  it  love  to 
him,  and  love  is  the  same  with  the  fulfilling 
of  the  whole  law.  It  takes  up  the  whole 
soul  :  /  will  put  it  in  their  mind,  and  write 
it  in  their  hearts.  If  we  will  distinguish 
these,  then  it  is,  that  they  shall  both  know 
it  and  love  it.  It  shall  not  be  written  anew 
in  their  heads,  and  go  no  deeper,  but  be 
written  in  their  hearts.  But  we  may  well 
take  both  expressions  for  the  whole  soul  ;  for 
this  kind  of  knowledge  and  love  are  insepa- 
ble,  and  where  the  one  is,  the  other  can  not 
be  wanting. 

So,  then,  a  supernatural,  sanctified  knowl- 
(  ';:e  of  God,  is  the  law  of  God,  writien  in  the 
beart.  When  it  comes  and  entertains  him 
as  holy  within  it,  then  it  hath  not  a  dead  let- 
ter of  the  l:uv  written  in  it,  but  vofiov  cfixj-vxav, 
the  Lawgiver  himself :  his  name  and  will  are 
engraven  on  it  throughout,  on  everv  part  of 
it.  All  that  thi'V  know  of  God  shall  not  be 
by  mere  report,  and  by  ihe  voice  of  others,  but 
they  shall  inwardly  read  and  know  him  with- 
in themselves.  Which  (hy-the-by)  makes 
not  the  public  teaching  and  work  of  the  min- 
istry superfluous  to  anv,  even  to  those  who 
know  most  of  God,  but  signifies  only  this: 
that  all  they  that  do  indeed  receive  and  be- 
lieve the  gospel,  are  inwardly  enlightened  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  to  understand  the  things  of 
God,  and  have  not  their  knowledge  on  bare 
/rust  of  others  who  instruct  ihetn,  without 
any  particular  persuasion  and  light  within, 
but  what  they  hear  of  spiritual  tilings,  they 
shall  understand  and  know  after  a  spiritual 
mpuiner.  And  the  universality  of  the  promise 
SiCrnfies,  that  this  kmd  of  knowledge  should 
Is  more  frequently  and  more  largely  be- 
f  towed  in  the  days  of  the  gospel,  than  it  was 
before. 

2.  The  necessity  of  writing  the  law  on  the 
heart.  Although  there  be  in  the  natural  con- 
science of  man,  some  dim  characters  of  the 
law,  convincing  him  of  grosser  wickednesses, 
and  leaving  him  inexcusable,  of  which  the 
iposile  speaks,  Rom.  ii.  15 ;  yet,  he  is  so  far, 

*  Lax  est  vehioulum  caloris. 


naturally,  from  the  right  knowledge  of  God 
and  the  love  of  his  whole  law,  that,  instead 
of  that  knowledge,  his  mind  is  full  of  dark- 
ness, and,  contrary  to  that  love,  his  heart  is 
possessed  with  a  natural  enmity  an<J  •'.ntipa 
thy  against  the  law  of  God.  Eph.  iv.  18; 
Rom.  viii.  7.  There  is  a  law  within  him  di- 
rectly opposite,  which  the  apostle  calls  the 
law  of  sin,  Rom.  vii.  23  ;  sin  ruling  and  com- 
manding the  heart  and  whole  man,  making 
laws  at  its  pleasure,*  and  obtaining  full  obe- 
dience. Therefore,  of  necessity,  before  a  man 
can  be  brought  to  obey  the  holy  law  of  God, 
the  inward  frame  of  his  heart  must  be 
changed,  the  corrupt  law  of  sin  must  be  ab- 
rogated, and  the  soul  must  renounce  obedi- 
ence to  it,  and  give  itself  up  wholly  [e.V 
to  receive  the  stamp  and  impression  of  the 
law  of  God  ;  and  then,  having  it  written  with- 
in upon  his  heart,  his  actions  will  bear  the 
resemblance,  and  be  conformable  unto  it. 

In  this  promise  which  God  makes  to  his 
people,  he  hath  regard  to  the  nature  of  that 
obedience  which  he  requires.  Because  he 
will  have  it  sincere  and  cordial,  therefore  he 
puts  a  living  principle  of  it  within,  writes  his 
law  in  the  heart,  and  then  it  is,  in  the  words 
and  actions,  derived  thence,  and  is  more  in 
the  heart  than  in  them.  The  first  copy  is  in 
the  heart,  and  all  the  other  powers  and  parts 
of  a  man  follow  that,  and  so,  by  that  means, 
as  it  is  sincere,  so  it  is  universal.  The  heart 
is  that  which  commands  all  the  rest  ;  and,  as 
the  vital  spirits  flow  from  it  to  the  whole 
body,  thus,  the  law  of  God,  being  written  in 
it,  is  difl'used  through  the  whole  man.  It 
might  be  in  the  memory,  or  in  the  tongue, 
and  not  in  the  rest  ;  hut  put  .it  in  the  heart, 
and  then  it  is  undoubtedly  in  all. 

Its  being  written  in  the  heart,  makes 
the  obedience  likewise  universal  in  the  ob- 
ject, as  they  speak,  in  respect  to  the  whole 
law  of  God.  When  it  is  written  only  with- 
out a  man,  he  may  read  one  part  and  pass 
over  another,  may  possibly  choose  to  conform 
to  some  part  of  the  law,  and  leave  the  rest  ; 
but  when  the  full  copy  of  it  is  written  in  his 
heart,  then  it  is  all  one  law.  And  as  in  itself 
it  ia  inseparable,  as  St.  James  teaclieth  us, 
James  ii.  10,  so  it  is  likewise  in  his  esteem 
and  affection  and  endeavor  of  obedience  :  he 
hath  regard  unto  all  the  commandments  as 
one.  Because  of  his  love  to  the  law  of  God, 
he  hates,  not  only  some,  but  every  false  u  ay, 
as  David  speaks.  Psalm  cxix.  104.  He  that 
looks  on  the  law  without  him,  will  possibly 
forbear  to  break  it  while  others  look  upon 
him;  his  obedience  lies  much  in  the  behold' 
er's  eye  ;  but  he  that  hath  the  law  written 
within,  can  not  choose  but  reffard  it  as  much 
in  secret  as  in  public.  Although  his  sin 
might  be  hid  from  the  knowledge  and  cen- 
sure of  men,  yet  still  it  were  violence  done  to 
that  pure  law  that  is  wi*'-'n  his  breast,  and 
therefore  he  hates  it  alike  as  if  it  were  public. 
This  is  the  constant  enemy  of  all  sin,  this  It  w 
•  Tolerabis  iniijuas  iiilcriils  leges. 


GOD'S  END  AND  DESIGN  IN  AFFLICTION. 


[Rek.  XXX.. 


w.tliiu  him.  Psalm  cxix.  11  :  1  have  hid  thy  j 
la-x)  in  my  heart,  says  David,  that  I  miirhl  not 
sin  aoainst  thee.  It  makes  a  man  abate 
nothing  of  liis  course  of  obedience  and  holi- 
ness because  unseen,  but  like  the  sun  that 
keeps  on  its  motion  when  it  is  clouded  from 
our  eyes,  as  well  as  when  we  see  it. 

In  a  word,  this  writing  of  the  law  in  the 
heart,  makes  obedience  a  natural  motion,  I 
mean,  by  a  new  nature  :  it  springs  not  from 
outward  constraints  and  respects,  but  from  an 
inward  principle,  and  iliciefore,  not  only  is  it 
universal  and  constant,  but  ciicerful  and  easy. 
The  law,  only  written  in  tables  of  stone,  is 
hard  and  grievous ;  but  make  once  the  heart 
the  table  of  it,  and  then  there  is  nothing  more 
pleasing.  This  law  of  God  makes  service 
delightful,  even  the  painfuUest  of  it.  Psalm 
xl.  S  :  /  delight  to  do  thy  will,  O  my  God  ; 
yea,  thi/  law  is  leithin  my  heart.  The  sun 
which  moves  with  such  wonderful  swiftness, 
that  to  the  ignorant  it  would  seem  incredible 
to  hear  how  many  thousands  of  miles  it  goes 
each  hour,  yet  because  it  is  naturally  fitted 
for  that  course,  it  comes,  as  the  psalmist 
speaks,  like  a  bridegroom  forth  of  his  cham- 
ber, and  rejoices,  as  a  strong  man,  to  run  a 
race.  Psalm  xix.  5.  If  the  natural  man  be 
convinced  of  the  goodness  and  equity  of  the 
law  of  God,  yet,  because  it  is  not  written 
within,  but  only  commands  without,  it  is  a 
violent  motion  to  him  to  obey  it,  and  the»e- 
fore  he  finds  it  a  painful  yoke.  But  here 
David,  in  whose  heart  it  was,  speaks  of  it : 
how  often  doth  he  call  it  his  delight  and  his 
joy .' 

If  any  profane  persons  object  to  a  godly 
man  his  exact  life,  that  it  is  too  precise,  as  if 
he  wrote  each  action  before  he  did  it,  he  may 
answer,  as  Demosthenes  did  to  him  that  ob- 
jected he  wrote  his  orations  before  he  spake 
them,  that  he  was  not  at  all  ashamed  of  that, 
although  they  were  not  only  written,  but  en- 
graven beforehand.  Certainly,  the  godly  man 
lives  by  this  law  which  is  written  and  en- 
graved on  bis  heart,  and  he  needs  not  be 
ashamed  of  it. 

It  is  true,  the  renewed  man,  even  he  that 
hath  this  law  deepest  written  in  his  heart, 
yet,  while  he  lives  here,  is  still  molested  with 
that  inbred  Antinomian,  that  law  of  sin  that 
yet  dwells  in  his  Hesh  :  though  the  force  and 
power  of  it  is  broken,  and  its  law  repealed  in 
his  conversion,  and  this  new  pure  law  placed 
in  its  stead,  yet  because  that  part  which  is 
flesh  m  him,  still  entertains  and  harbors  it 
there,  it  creates  and  breeds  a  Christian  daily 
vexation.  Because  sin  hath  lost  dominion. 
It  is  still  practising  rebellion  against  that 
spiritual  kingdom  and  law  that  is  established 
m  the  regenerate  mind :  as  a  man  that  hath 
once  been  in  possession  of  rule,  though  usurp- 
ed, vet,  being  subdued,  he  is  still  working  in 
that  k\n<rdom  to  turbulent  practices.  But 
till, ugh  by  this  (as  the  apostle  was,  Rom.  vii. 
4)  every  godly  man  is  often  driven  to  sad  per- 
plexities and  complaints,  yet  in  this  in  his 


comfort  :  that  law  of  his  God  written  here, 
hath  his  heart  and  aflection.  Sin  is  dethron 
ed  and  thrust  out  of  his  heart,  and  liatli  only 
a  usurped  abode  within  him  against  his  will 
He  sides  with  the  law  of  God,  and  fights  with 
all  bis  power  for  it  agamst  tne  other.  1'hat 
holy  law  is  his  delight,  and  this  law  of  sin  his 
greatest  grief. 

3.  The  writer:  T  will  write.  The  Lord 
promises  himself  to  do  this,  and  it  is  indeed 
liis  prerogative.  He  wrote  it  at  first  on  tables 
of  stone,  and  this  spiritual  engraving  of  it  on 
the  heart,  is  much  more  peculiarly  his.  Other 
men  might  afterward  engrave  it  on  stone,  but 
no  man  can  at  all  write  it  on  the  heart,  not 
upon  his  own,  much  less  upon  another's. 
Upon  his  own  he  can  not,  for  it  is  naturally 
taken  up  and  possessed  with  that  contrary 
law  of  sin  (as  we  said  before),  and  is  willing- 
ly subject  to  it,  loves  that  law,  and  therefore, 
in  that  posture,  it  neither  can  nor  will  work 
this  change  upon  itself  to  dispossess  that  law 
which  it  loves,  and  bring  in  that  which  it 
hates.  No  man  can  write  this  law  on  the 
heart  of  another,  lor  it  is  inaccessible  :  his 
hand  can  not  reach  it,  he  can  not  come  at  it ; 
how  then  shall  he  write  anything  on  it  ? 
I  Men,  in  the  ministry  of  the  word,  can  but 
stand  and  call  without :  they  can  not  speak  to 
within,  far  less,  write  anything  within. 
Though  they  speak  never  so  excellently  and 
spiritually,  and  express  nothing  but  what  is 
written  on  their  own  hearts  (and  certainly, 
that  is  the  most  powerful  way  of  speaking, 
and  the  likeliest  for  making  an  impression  on 
]  the  heart  of  another),  yet,  unless  the  hand  of 
God's  own  Spirit  carry  it  into  the  hearer's 
heart,  and  set  on  the  stamp  of  it  there,  it  will 
perish  as  a  sound  in  the^iir,  and  eflfect  noth- 
ing.* Let  this  ever  be  acknowledged  to  his 
glory.  The  voice  of  men  may  beat  the  ear, 
but  only  he  who  made  the  heart,  can  work 
upon  it,  and  change  and  mould  it  as  it  pleaseth 
him.  This  is  his  own  promise,  and  he  alone 
I  makes  it  good.  He  writes  his  law  on  the 
hearts  of  his  children,  and  by  this  work  of 
[  his  grace  prepares  them  for  glory.  They  who 
!  have  this  law  written  in  their  hearts,  theil 
!  names  are  certainly  written  in  the  book  of 
life. 


SERMON  XXXL 

god's  end  and  design  in  AFFI.JCTIOrf. 

HOSEA  v.  15. 

I  will  go  and  return  to  my  place,  till  they  acknowl- 
edf;e  their  offence,  and  seek  my  face  :  in  theil 
affliction  they  will  seek  me  early. 

There  is  nothing  we  more  hardiy  learn 
and  whereof  we  have  more  need  to  be  taught, 
than  tojudge  aright  concerning  our  own  deal- 

*  Sonus  verborum  nostrorum  aures  percutit,  magis- 
tor  inlus.  Nolite  putare  quencjtam  hominem  aliquid 
discere  ab  alio  homine :  admonere  possumus  per 
strepitum  vocis  nostrae,  si  non  est  inlus  qui  docsat 
inanis  sircpitus  est  noster.  [Augustine.] 


ITos.  V.  15.1 


GOD'S  END  AND  DESIGN  IN  AFFIJCTION. 


565 


mg  with  God,  and  God's  dealing  with  us  ;  to 
know  and  acknowledge  the  perverseness  and 
j'olly  of  our  own  ways,  and  the  wisdom  and 
Toodness  of  his  ways.  Therefore,  the  ser- 
mons of  the  prophets  insist  much  on  this,  to 
convince  the  people  of  God,  to  whom  they 
were  sent,  of  both  these  ;  and  by  this  to  per- 
suade them  to  repentance.  This  is  evidently 
here  the  prophet's  aim.  The  whole  chapter, 
with  the  following-,  contains  a  pathetic  re- 
monstrance of  God's  just  quarrel  with  his 
people,  aggravated  by  much  Ions-suffering  and 
lenity,  and  many  warnings,  verbal  and  real, 
on  his  part,  and  much  stubbornness,  impeni- 
tence, and  multiplied  provocation  on  theirs; 
he  using  all  means  to  reclaim  and  save  them, 
and  they  using  all  means  to  despise  him  and 
ruin  themselves.  The  plea  is  against  both 
the  kingdoms  of  Israel  and  Judah. 

In  these  words  we  have  the  Lord,  after 
much  reasoning  and  trial  of  milder  ways, 
which  prevailed  not  with  them,  concluding 
upon  a  severe  course,  as  being  found  necessa- 
ry, and  such  as  would  be  more  effectual  for 
iheir  conversion.  The  words  contain  these 
three  things  :  I.  The  procuring  cause  of  God's 
afflicting  his  people.  IT.  His  way  of  afflicting 
them.    III.  The  end  of  it. 

I.  The  procuring  cause  is  made  up  of  these 
two,  sin  and  impenitence.  Ivil/  go  till  they 
acknon-led ge.  their  offences.  So  that,  if  they 
had  not  committed  those  provoking  sins,  or, 
having  committed  them,  had  humbly  ac- 
knowledged or  repented  of  them,  this  labor 
of  afflicting  them  had  been  saved  ;  but  these 
sins  once  committed  and  often  repeated,  and 
their  being  not  so  much  as  once  acknowl- 
edjed,  and  ail  this  by  God's  own  peculiar 
people,  cav  not  but  draw  on  heavy  afflictions. 

]st.  \Vc  may  see  liow  unwilling  God  is  to 
afflict  his  people.  Judgments  are  termed  his 
strange  vuirk,  but  mercy  is  bis  darling  attri- 
bute. When  God  exercises  punitive  acts 
against  his  people,  the  Scripture  represents, 
as  it  were,  a  kind  of  reluctance  and  struggling 
in  his  bowels.  Hos.  xi.  8.  How  shall  I  smile 
thee,  O  Ephrmm  ?  and  hoin  shall  J  give  thee 
up,  O  Manassch  ?  My  repentin!j;s  are  heaun 
already.  He  delights  in  their  prosperity,  and 
hath  given  them  a  rule,  by  which,  if  they 
walk,  peace  shall  Jje  upon  them.  He  liaih 
made  them  laws,  the  observance  of  which 
will  bring  l)eaps  of  blessings  upon  them  :  as 
we  find  what  a  multitude  of  favors  attended 
It,  Levit.  xxvi.  4-12.  I  will  give  ynu  ram  in 
due  season  ;  and  a  little  after,  7  will  give  you 
peace  in  the  land,  and  ye  shall  lie  down,  and 
none  shall  make  you  afraid.  I  will  walk 
among  you,  I  will  be  your  God,  and  ye  shall 
be  my  people.  So,  also,  Deut.  xxvii.  1-12. 
But  those  laws  not  bein?  observed,  then  it  is 
said,  ver.  24,  &c..  The  Lord  shall  make  the 
ram  of  thy  hmd  powder  and  dvst  ;  the  Lord 
shall  caxisf.  thee  to  he  sinillen  before  thine  ene- 
mies. &c.  But  what  is  all  that'when  opposed 
to  the  affliction  here  threatened,  of  God's 
withdrawing  himself?    I  will  ^o  and  return 


to  my  place,  till  they  acknotvledge  their  offence. 
He  will  not  leave  them,  unless  they  drive  him 
away  ;  yea,  and  he  is  even  then  loath  to  leave 
them,  and  grieved  that  they  are  such  enemies 
to  themselves,  and  will  not  be  persuaded  to 
be  better  advised. 

2dly.  We  see  where  the  true  blame  of  the 
many  sufferings  and  miseries  of  the  church  is 
to  be  found.  The  abounding  of  sin,  and  the 
want  of  repentance,  these  make  her  troubles 
to  abound.  If  God's  own  people  would  take 
his  counsel,  it  would  be  well  for  them  ;  either 
his  first  counsel  of  obedience,  or  his  after 
counsel  of  repentance.  When  they  are  run- 
ning from  him,  he  calls  after  them  Return, 
return,  O  backsliding  Israel,  ivhy  will  ye  die  ? 
Thou  hast  destroyed  thyself,  says  the  Lord 
by  the  same  prophet,  but  in  rne  is  thy  help  to 
be  found.  Hos.  xiii.  9.  His  counsel  and  ways 
would  be  peace,  but  their  afflictions  and  sharp 
punishtnents  are  the  fruit  of  their  own  ways; 
bitter  fruit  and  wormwood,  a  root  of  bitter- 
ness. Prov.  V.  4;  Jer.  ii.  19.  Doth  not  the 
preaching  of  the  word,  and  particularly  the 
doctrine  of  repentance,  sufficiently  witness 
for  God,  and  aGfainst  his  people,  when  their 
rebellion  brings  calamities  upon  them  ?  The 
often-repeated  warnings  and  entreaties,  even 
to  those  who  have  often  slighted  and  despised 
tbeni,  show  how  unwillingly  he  afflicts  us. 
He  does  not  surprise  them,  without  warnings 
multiplied  (»ne  upon  another.  Before  he 
would  proceed  to  treat  them  as  enemies,  to 
hew  and  slay  them  with  the  sword,  he  uses 
his  messengers  of  peace  to  deal  first  with  the 
word,  sharply  indeed,  but  graciously  ;— that 
sword  of  tlie  Spirit  which  kills  to  make  alive, 
to  spare,  if  it  might  be,  the  destroying  sword 
of  the  enemy.  1  have  hewn  them  by  my  proph- 
ets (Hos.  vi.  5),  and  if  tiiat  would  have  served 
their  turn,  the  other  hewing  and  slaying  should 
not  have  followed.  A  wise  enemy  who  is  re- 
solved to  be  avenged,  conceals  his  rage  till  it 
be  accomplished,  and  does  not  threaten  before 
he  strikes,  but  makes  the  execution  of  his 
purpose  the  first  revealing  of  it.  Therefore, 
we  may  know  that  (rod,  who  doth  all  things 
most  wisely,  intends  favor  in  threatening; 
denounces  indignation  that  he  may  be  inter- 
rujjted.  Not  to  inflict  it,  that  is  his  desire, 
lie  would  ffladly  have  us  stay  his  hand.  An 
humble  penitent  acknowledgment  will  do  it. 
"  Mmiatur  ne  ctrdat,  co'dit  ne  occidat,"  says 
Chrysostom.  He  threatens  that  he  may  not 
strike,  and  strikes  that  he  ?nay  not  destroy. 
If  speaking  either  mildly  or  sharply,  will  pre- 
vail with  his  children,  he  will  not  stir  the  rod 
to  them  :  and  when  the  rod  is  in  his  hand,  if 
showing  or  shaking  it  will  serve  the  turn,  he 
will  not  strike  with  it.  Hut  this  is  our  folly 
that  usually  we  abuse  all  this  goodness,  and 
will  not  part  with  our  sins,  till  we  smart  for 
them,  and  he  beaten  from  them.  We  pull 
punishment  out  of  God's  hand  ;  as  Solomon 
says.  The  fooPs  mouth  calleth  for  strokes. 
Prov.  xviii.  0.  When  these  indulgent  ways 
that  the  Lord  uses,  avail  nothing,  then  as  a 


5Gb 


GOD'S  END  AND  DESIGN  IN  AFFLICTION 


[Ser.  XXXI, 


physician  wearied  in  strivin<^  wiili  Iciiiiives 
and  iteinU'  nicdicines  in  a  fixed,  stubliorn  dis- 
ease that  yields  not  to  them,  it  is  no  wonder 
tiiat  he  betake  himself  to  sharper  remedies, 
and  cut  and  burn,  if  need  be,  that  lie  may 
"ure.  The  Lord's  complaint,  in  tiie  beiiin- 
ning  of  the  viith  cliajiter  of  this  prophecy, 
sounds  this  way,  W/irn  I  would  have  hialvd 
Ejihraiiii.    If  it  be  thus,  then,  with  the  church 

01  God,  that  it  is  often  found  jiuilly  of  ffrcat 
Bins,  and  withal,  ijreat  insensibleness  and  im- 
penitence, It  IS  no  wonder  that  it  is  ofien  i'ound 
under  great  and  many  atHictions.  There  be- 
ing in  the  church,  in  sucii  societies  as  profess 
God's  name,  peculiar  sins,  such  as  are  found 
nowhere  else,  by  reason  of  God's  peculiar 
covenant  with  them,  and  ordinances  among 
them  ;  viz.,  contempt  of  the  ordinances,  and 
breach  of  the  covenant  ;  and  by  the  same 
reason  too,  peculiar  aggravations  of  the  com- 
mon sins,  and  ingredients  of  such  things  as 
make  the  same  sins  that  other  pcojile  cominit, 
to  be  of  a  deeper  die  among  God's  people  ; 
their  special  relation  lo  him,  and  the  special 
means  and  mercies  they  receive  from  him, 
by  which  they  they  are  both  more  instructed 
and  more  obliged  to  obedience;  these  things 
make  the  disobedience  more  heinous  in  itself, 
and  more  offensive  to  God.  lie  can  not  but 
take  it  very  ill  to  be  disregarded  by  his  own 
Kai  av  TtKvnv. — -Thus  the  Lord  makes  a  great 
and  loud  complaint  that  all  may  hear,  Isa.  i. 

2  ;  calls  heaven  and  earth  to  hear  it,  that  he 
had  nourished  and  l)rciu<j;ht  vp  chihlren,  and 
they  had  rebelled  at^auisl  him.  What  do  we 
deserve  for  our  sins?  Do  not  our  oaths  and 
cursing,  our  pride  and  deceit,  our  wonderful 
ignorance  and  profanencss,  our  formality, 
hypocrisy,  and,  above  all,  our  deep  security, 
threaten  us  with  some  heavy  judgment  ? 
Which  can  not  be  avoided  but  by  godly  sor- 
row and  earnest  prayer,  by  the  most  humble 
way  of  acknowledgment  and  real  amendment. 
This  is  our  work  this  day  :  and  unless  we  set 
about  it  for  ourselves,  and  pray  for  it  to  the 
whole  kingdom,  we  know  not  what  we  are 
doing.  We  can  not  do  anvthing  to  purpose 
on  behalf  of  the  church  of  God,  nor  be  tit  sup- 
plicants for  its  deliverance,  while  we  return 
ungodly  ourselves. 

II.  God's  way  of  afflictinff  his  people  :  7 
will  !>o  and  return  In  my  ■jdnce.  The  way 
that  he  will  afflict  them,  is  indeed  the  heav- 
iest, as  conveyed  in  this  expression  :  as  if 
he  should  say,  I  will  withdraw  myself 
from  them,  and  will  not  appear  to  them  at 
all  for  a  time,  yea,  a  long  time.  Well  may 
it  be  rendered  by  affliction  in  the  other  clause, 
for  they  shall  be  truly  so  when  the  Lord  is 
yone  from  them.  Ujion  the  withdrawing  of 
hi',  gracious  presence,  as  necessarily  follows 
affli';tior,  as  mist  upon  the  settinir  of  ibesun. 
Thi;.  wis  heavier  than  all  his  corrcctiotis. 
So  long  as  they  could  but  hear  and  see  him 
among  them,  although  it  were  chiding,  yea, 
tcounrim;  them,  yet,  :«iill  there  was  this  com- 
fort, that  ihey  might  speak  to  him  as  being 


near  them,  and  so,  considermg  his  mereifvA 
nature,  might  have  hojje,  by  their  complaints 
and  cries  in  his  jireseiice,  to  move  him  to 
compassionate  and  spare  them,  and  be  recon- 
j  ciled.  But  when  he  was  out  of  sight  and 
quite  gone  from  them,  and  so  could  neither 
hear  nor  see  them  in  their  misery,  this  was 
indeed  the  chief  misery,  worse  than  all  tliat 
they  c(nild  sufl'er  in  other  jiunisbments.  In 
the  preceding  verses,  he  threatens  to  be  as  a 
moth  to  them,  consuming  them,  though  more 
1  slowly  and  insensibly;  which  was  by  lesser 
judgments  that  befell  these  kingdoms,  as 
the  history  of  them  shows:  then,  as  a  lion, 
devouring  more  suddenly  :  but  the  grada- 
tion rises  to  the  highest  in  this  last,  though 
to  an  ignorant  creature  it  sounds  least:  J  inll 
return  to  my  place.  I  will  retire  my  favora- 
ble presence  from  them,  and  shut  up  all  the 
influencesand  evidences  of  my  grace.  Which, 
in  a  public  national  sense  (as  here  it  is  lo  be 
taken),  imports  not  only  longer  and  more 
grievous  troubles  than  any  which  bef(jre  had 
befallen  them  (as  indeed  they  were),  but 
God's  leaving  of  them  in  those  troubles,  and 
not  giving  as  before,  any  sign  of  his  merciful 
presence.  As  if  God  should  say,  I  will  give 
them  up  to  those  miseries  that  are  to  come 
upon  them,  and  leave  them  to  themselves  and 
to  their  cruel  enemies,  and  will  take  no  no- 
tice of  them,  until  tiiey  know  what  a  griev  3us 
thing  the  want  of  my  presence  is,  and  how 
hateful  their  sins  are,  that  have  deprived 
them  of  it,  and  so  be  stirred  up  to  seek  my 
face  ; — they  would  not  regard  nie,  eiiher  in 
rny  word  or  in  my  works,  whether  of  mercy 
or  of  judgment,  so  long  as  I  stayed  with  them, 
was  present  among  them:— that  so  1  may 
teach  them  to  know  what  is  the  good  of  my 
presence,  by  the  evil  of  my  absence,  which  ifi 
a  heavier  judgment  than  all  I  have  yet  in- 
flicted on  them. 

I  And  as  it  is  thus  in  relation  to  the  publir. 
;  condition  of  the  church,  so  is  it,  in  a  person- 
al and  more  spiritual  sense,  to  a  child  of  God. 
No  evil  he  fears  so  much,  or  feels  so  heavy, 
as  God's  absenting  and  withdrawing  himself 
in  displeasure  :  nor  is  there  any  good  that  he 
will  admit  to  be  compared  with  the  light  ol 
Gtid'scountenance.  Letothers  seek  any  good, 
let  them  have  any  good  ,they  can,  but,  saya 
David,  for  himself  and  all  the  godly,  the  good 
we  seek  is  this  and  no  other.  Lord,  lift  upon 
ys  the  lifrhl  of  thy  countenance.  Psalm  iv. 
6.  He  can  hear  of  any  distress  with  courage 
and  resolution,  but  this  he  can  not  endure  to 
hear  of,  but  deprecates  it,  Hide  not  thy  face 
from  thy  servant.  A  godly  man  may,  in  the 
most  prosperous  condition,  have  much  con- 
cern if  the  face  of  God  be  hid  from  liirii. 
That  is  his  great  affliction,  as  it  is  here  Call- 
ed. There  needs  nothing  else  to  damp  ali 
his  prosperity.  Thou  didst  hide  thy  face,  and 
and  1  was  troubled.  Psalm  xxx.  7.  Even  in 
jirosperity,  riches  and  (lower,  and  other  such 
poor  tilings,  do  not  answer  the  desires  of  a 
soul  acquainted  with  God :   all  these  ar« 


Hos.  V  15  ] 


GOD'S  END  AND  DESIGN  IN  AFFLICTION. 


E67 


no'hing  without  nis  favor  shining  on  them  : 
no,  nor  the  graces  which  are  within  them, 
which  are  far  more  precious  than  all  outward 
things.  The  displeased  withdrawing  of  God's 
countenance,  makes  a  sad  nighl  amid  all 
these  ;  as  when  the  sun  is  absent,  it  is  night 
still,  notwithsiandm?  all  the  stars.  Although 
God  laj'  outward  affliction  on  them,  yet,  if  he 
enlightea  them,  though  in  a  dungeon,  they 
can  rejoice.  Yea,  when  they  are  inwardly 
troubled  for  sin,  and  God  is  rebuking  them 
that  way,  yet,  that  is  not  so  bad  as  when  he 
leaves  them  and  returns  to  his  plnce.  This 
is  more  grievous  than  when  he  chides  and  re- 
bukes them,  which  he  may  do,  and  yet,  not 
in  hot  displeasure,  as  David  teaches  us  to  dis- 
tinguish it,  Psalm  vi.  1.  It  is  a  more  com- 
fortable condition,  that  he  stay  with  them, 
and  that  he  reprove  them  when  they  sin 
(yea,  that  is  a  mercy),  than  that  he  leave 
them,  and  speak  not  to  them,  nor  suffer  them 
to  speak  to  him.  They  would  tiien  desire 
rather  to  find  him  present  though  correcting  ; 
for  then,  by  speaking  to  him,  they  may  ex- 
press their  repentance  and  requests  to  him  for 
pardon.  They  would  say  to  God,  Strike  7ne, 
but  hear  me,  rather  than  be  struck  out  from 
all  intercourse  with  him,  and  he  hold  them 
as  his  enemies.  And  thus  God  may  some- 
times deal  with  his  own,  and  particularly  for 
some  notable  offence,  until  they  be  duly  hum- 
bled and  brought  to  a  lowly  acknowledg- 
ment, and  so,  10  seek  his  face  again  ;  to  see 
if  they  will  be  loath  to  grieve  him  again. 

Though  we  all  profess  to  know  God,  yet, 
the  greatest  part  of  us  are  so  far  from  duly 
esteeming  him,  that  we  do  not  at  all  know 
what  the  spiritual,  gracious  presence  of  God 
is  ;  how  sweet  the  enjoyment,  and  how  bit- 
ter and  sad  the  deprivement.  Oh,  be  desi- 
rous to  understand  and  know  this  highest 
good,  and.  above  all  things,  seek  to  enjoy  it  ! 
And  without  d(jubt,  the  experience  of  it  will 
persuade  you  to  i)rize  it  and  entertain  it  care- 
fully ;  never  willingly  to  grieve  and  drive 
away  so  great  and  sogoou  ;■  guest,  who  brings 
true  happiness  along  vvith  nim  to  those  wiih 
whom  he  dwells.  There  is  solid  peace,  and 
there  only,  where  he  is.  And  for  the  churcii 
of  God,  what  other  thing  can  we,  yea,  what 
need  we  desire  but  this,  as  the  assured  help 
)f  all  her  distresses  and  sorrows,  that  God 
would  return  his  gracious  presence  to  her 
again  ?  Then  shall  her  enemies  be  turned 
backward,  and  she  shall  sing  and  rejoice  in 
the  God  of  her  salvation.  You  see,  this  is 
the  church's  own  prayer.  Psalm  Ixxx.  3  ;  she 
desires  no  more  than  this.  Cause  thy  face  to 
shine  ;  and  we  shall  he  safe.  That  is  (he  only 
sun  which  chases  away  the  mist  of  her  griefs 
and  troubles.  So  then,  the  ending  of  these 
confusions  we  are  lying  and  laboring  under, 
is  wrapped  up  in  this  ;  that  the  presence  of 
our  God  be  both  entreated  and  obtained. 
This  would  make  a  sweet  union  of  hearts, 
and  make  all  attempts  pro'^perous,  and  strike 
»  terror  into  the  church's  enemies.    But  if 


'  their  Rock  forsake  them,  they  were  never  so 
■  surely  supported  with  other  advantages,  yet 
shall  they  sink  and  fall.  If  he  go  to  his  place, 
and  shut  up  his  power  and  wisdom  from  their 
help,  and  leave  them  with  themselves,  this 
shall  suffice  to  undo  them,  without  any  ene- 
my. It  was  sad  news,  not  only  to  Moses, 
but  to  the  whole  people,  Exod.  xxxiii.  3  ; 
notwithstanding  they  were  bent  to  provoke 
him  to  do  so,  it  was  very  grievous  for  them 
to  hear,  that  he  had  refused  them  his  own 
guidance,  and  would  withdraw  himself  from 
ihem,  although  it  was  with  the  promise  of  an 
angel  to  lead  them  ;  for  little  can  any  possi- 
I  ble  supply  be  made  by  any  creature  to  make 
up  that  loss.  It  was  indeed  high  time  for 
them  to  put  off  their  ornaments,  and  be  hum- 
bled, when  their  great  Ornament  and  their 
great  Strength,  was  gone  from  them  in  dis- 
pleasure. Then  they  put  off  their  garbs  of 
war,  and  appeared  in  the  penitential  drass  of 
sackcloth  and  ashes. 

I     III.  The  end  of  God's  thus  afflicting  his 
people.    And  we  have  these  two  things  tci 
consider  in  it,  both  here  clearly  expressed  • 
1st,  God  intention  in  the  means;  secondly 
The  power  of  these  means  for  effecting  it 
I  will  go  till  they  acknowled ge  their  offences 
and  seek  my  face,  and,  in  the  time  of  my  ab 
'sence,  whicii  will  certainly  be  the  time  o-' 
their  heaviest  affliction,  they  will  seek 
early. 

1.  This  is  God's  end  in  scourging  his  peo- 
ple :  it  is  only  to  bring  them  to  a  sorrow  for 
their  offences,  and  an  ingenuous  confession  of 
it.  And  if  he  withdraw  himself,  it  is  not  to 
leave  them  for  ever  and  look  at  them  no 
more.  On  the  contrary,  it  is,  that  they  may 
learn  whether  it  is  better  to  enjoy  him,  or 
their  sins  ;  and  that,  hading  themselves  mise- 
rable without  him,  they  may  leave  those  sins 
with  which  he  will  not  dwell,  and  may  come 
and  entreat  his  return  to  them  ;  which  he  is 
willing,  being  entreated,  to  grant  them.  And 
this  he  removes  from  them,  thai,  on  their  re- 
turn to  him,  and  their  earnest  and  humble 
seeking  of  his  return  to  them,  they  may  find 
him,  and  enjoy  more  of  his  presence  than  be- 
fore, and  learn  to  keep  it  better.  He  throws 
his  jieople  into  the  furnace,  and  goes  away, 
I  and  leaves  them  there;  yet,  it  is  not  to  let  them 
I  lie  still  there,  but  he  is  skilful  in  this  work, 
and  knows  the  lime  needful  for  their  refining, 
and  then  returns  and  takes  them  out.  Hi» 
purpose  is,  to  purge  away  the  dross,  but  he 
will  not  lose  the  gold.-  Isa.  xxvii.  9.  By  tint 
shall  the  iniquity  nf  Jacob  be  purged,  and  thit 
will  serve  to  lake  away  his  sin.  As  that  sw 
was  the  meriting  cause  of  the  affliction,  ii 
clears  God's  justice  ;  the  end  he  aims  at, 
when  he  declares  his  graciousness  and  mer 
cy  to  his  people,  being  no  other  than  this,  to 
destroy  the  meriting  cause  of  the  affliction,  by 
their  trouble  ;  to  lake  away  that  sin  which 
procured  it,  and  then  to  give  them  peace. 
1  That  is  his  design.  He  takes  no  pleasure  in 
I  their  affliction  for  itself,  more  than  they  lliero- 


168 


GOD'S  END  AND  DESIGN  llN  AFFLICTION. 


[Ser.  XXXI, 


selves  do.  Indeed,  in  piniipliins;  liis  cuciiiicf;, 
there  is  pure  jusiiee  :  ilieir  punislnncnis  are 
not  for  a  h<'it('r  end,  so  far  as  concerns  ilieiii, 
hut  are  appointed  to  torment  them.  But  to 
his  own  people,  his  purpose  is,  hy  afflicting 
them,  only  to  draw  from  them  their  sins, 
which  drive  him  away  from  them.  And  as 
we  see  in  this  the  bounty  of  God,  so  it  in- 
stpucts  us,  for  our  own  practice,  in  the  just 
«'ay  l)oth  of  prevcntin<r  trouble  to  ourselves 
that  it  come  not,  and  of  reniovins  it  if  it  be 
come  upon  us.  Is  this  the  thing  God  seeks 
in  punishing  us,  a  s(>nse  and  ackninvledg- 
ment  of  sin  committed  ?  Then,  if  we  give 
him  his  end,  he  will  not  at  all  needlessly 
make  use  of  the  means.  If,  therefore,  we 
either  carefully  shun  sinful  provocations,  or, 
being  guilty,  speedily  return  and  humble  our- 
selves before  him,  he  will  not  enter  into  dis- 
pleasure against  us  ;  he  will  be  appeased 
toward  us.  And  on  our  seeing  that  which  is 
hisintentin  punishing, l)efore  hebeginsto  pun- 
ish, he  is  very  well  pleased  to  be  thus  prevent- 
ed. So  then,  if  either  we  follow  the  advicp 
of  the  Psalmist,  Psalm  iv.  4,  SUi/id  in  aire, 
and  sin  not,  or  that  other  which  follows,  that 
we  examine  our  hearts  concerninff  sin,  before  : 
the  decree  of  punishment  go  forth,  or  be  put  | 
in  execution  on  our  ffuiltitiess,  pronouncing  ! 
ourselves  guilty  (as  the  word  is  here  in  the 
text),  which  is  indeed  acknowledging  our  of- 
fences, this  is  the  way  to  prevent  it  ;  and  if 
it  be  begun  upun  us,  this  is  the  ready  way  to 
remove  it,  for  this  is  the  end  of  it.  When  the 
Lord  sees  his  children  grieved  for  their  of- 
fences and  entreating  pardon,  he  is  a  ten- 
der-hearted father,  the  very  Father  of  mer- 
cies. Those  confessions  and  prayers  that  his 
children  utter,  enter  his  j)atcrnal  ears,  the 
rod  falls  out  of  his  hand,  and  he  turns  his 
stripes  into  embraces,  and  his  frowns  into 
smiling.  There  may  be,  indeed,  a  confused 
cry  from  the  sense  of  the  smart,  without  re- 
pentance, that  moves  him  not.  As  he  directs 
parents  in  correcting  a  peevish  child.  Thou 
shall  not  spare  for  his  cryin^r  (Prov.  xix.  IS), 
so  he  himself  doth  not  spare  nor  leave  off"  for 
that  kind  of  crying.  It  is  confession  and  sub- 
mission that  he  seeks,  not  the  howling  and 
complaining  which  nature  draws  from  any 
under  sharp  affliction.  This  the  Lord  com- 
plains of  in  his  people,  by  the  same  projihet. 
Hos.  vii.  14  :  They  did  not  crij  vnto  me  irith 
their  hearts :  they  only  howled  i/pon  their 
beds.  A  man  that  is  upon  the  rack  for  Ex- 
torting confession,  he  ^yill  cry  and  roar  when 
he  confesses  nothing  ;  but  it  is  not  that  which 
is  sought  of  him.  pain  forces  him  to  that  ;  it 
is  confession,  and  when  he  begins  the  least 
Word  of  that,  they  presently  stay  and  release 
him.  Thus  it  was  with  David,  and  he  tells 
it  us,  and  distinguishes  these  two  expresslv, 
Psalm  xxxii.  3-.5.  Hetellsusof  his  roarit'i!'; 
under  the  nand  of  God,  but  that  did  no  good  : 
he  found  no  ease  but  that,  so  long  as  he  kept 
silence  from  tins  confession.  But  as  soon  as 
he  began,  or  di'!  but   offer  at  acknowledg- 


ment, one  word  of  confession,  yea,  the  prom- 
ise of  it,  brought  him  the  release  that  a 
whole  day's  roaring  could  not  obtain.  /  roar' 
cd  all  day  long,  but  thou  helpedst  me  not , 
still  Thine  hand  continued  heavy  upon  me. 
But  I  acknowledged  my  sin  ;  I  said  licould 
confess  my  transgression,  and  thou  forgavest 
the  iniijuiti/  of  my  sin. 

Now,  to  the  end  we  might  confess  aright, 
there  must  be  a  searching  of  our  hearts  for 
our  sins,  and  for  some  ]iarticular  one  or  more 
which  God's  afflictions  aim  at.  And,  First, 
if  we  can  not  easily  find  it  out,  consider  the 
nature  of  the  affliction.  Secondly,  seek  the 
knowledge  of  it  from  (iod,  who  will  readily, 
when  he  corrects  bis  children,  tell  them  what 
fault  it  is.  Thirdly,  however,  finding  so 
many,  be  sure  to  spare  none  .of  them,  and 
then  ye  can  not  but  fall  on  the  main  one 
which  breedetli  you  trouble. 

2.  The  other  thing  here  concerning  the 
end  of  affliction,  is  the  efficacy  of  the  means 
for  reaching  it.  In  their  affliction  they  will 
seek  me  early.  It  had  been  early,  in  a  wiser 
sense,  to  have  sought  to  him  for  a  reconcile- 
ment before  the  affliction  ;  but  here  it  ex- 
presses a  most  diligent  seeking,  according  to 
the  original  word  :  for  things  that  men  are 
earnest  upon,  they  will  be  early  stirring  to 
set  about.  For  besides  that  it  is  a  certain 
prophecy  of  what  was  to  come  to  pass  in 
this  people,  it  hath  in  it  this  general  truth, 
with  which  it  agrees:  to  wit,  the  moral  fit- 
ness of  great  affliction  to  work  this  diligent 
seeking  of  God,  before  neglected,  and  ac- 
knowledgment of  sin,  before  unf'elt  ;  which 
is  expressed  in  the  former  clause.  Together 
with  seeking  his  face,  there  must  be  the 
sense  and  acknowlediinient  of  sin.  There  is 
no  returning  to  him,  but  from  it.  In  follow- 
ing sin,  we  depart  from  God,  and  by  forsa- 
king it,  we  return  to  him.  These  are  insep- 
arable; they  are  but  one  motion.  It  was 
their  sin  made  him  leave  them,  and  go  to 
his  place  ;  and  therefore  it  were  in  vain  to 
seek  him,  retaining  it,  for  that  would  drive 
him  further  from  them. 

Now  affliction  is  apt  to  bring  men  to  this  ; 
such,  I  mean,  as  have  any  knowledge  of  God. 
Although  they  be  not  converted,  yet  it  works 
them  to  a  temporary  fit  of  returning  and  seek- 
ing God,  such  as  they  are  capable  of  And 
those  make  up  the  greatest  part  in  the  pub- 
lic humblinnfs  of  a  nation,  or  any  multitude 
of  people,  bavins'  most  of  them  no  more  heat 
of  devotion  and  desire  of  God,  than  the  fit 
of  present  affliction  works  ;  and  therelore, 
when  that  ceases,  they  have  done  likewise 
with  their  repentance  and  regard  of  God. 
Being  stirred  only  by  that  outward  principle, 
they  act  no  longer  that  way,  than  whi./o  they 
are  acted  by  it.  Water  will  be  very  hot,  yea, 
boil  and  make  a  noise,  when  it  is  upon 
the  fire  ;  but  set  it  off,  and  it  returns,  within 
a  while,  to  its  natural  coldness.  Thus  it  was 
often  with  the  same  people.  See  Ps.  Ixxviii. 
And  there  are  still  daily  too  many  instances 


liA..  Via.  17. J 


SUITABLE  EXERCISE  IN  AFFLICTION. 


5d£ 


ct  it.  Yei  the  Lord,  to  show  how  much  re- 
gard he  hath  to  repentance,  lets  not  the  very 
semblance  of  it  go  to  loss.  He  is  pleased,  for 
llie  repressing  of  sin,  and  the  purging  of  his 
church  of  gross  and  scandalous  profaneness, 
to  make  use  of  public  afflictions  to  work  in 
many  even  this  kind  of  repentance,  and  to 
answer  this  repentance  with  the  removal  of 
the  affliction  that  wrought  it.  With  God's 
own  children,  this  method  holds  in  a  way 
peculiar  to  them.  They  may,  indeed,  as 
well  as  others,  sometimes  stand  in  need  of 
he  rod  for  iheir  bettering,  and  it  may  work 
it,  but  there  is  tnis  diffeithce  :  their  grief  for 
sin  and  seeking  after  Gou,  .lo  not  wholly  de- 
pend on  the  lash  ;  they  are  constant  in  these 
things,  as  having  a  living  principle  within 
them  ;  whence  they  show  la  all  estates,  that 
sin  is  to  them  the  greatest  grief,  and  the  fa- 
vor of  God  the  greatest  good.  Again,  when 
they  are  surprised  with  sin,  and  possibly  fall 
into  a  fit  of  security,  and  must  be  awaked  by 
some  affliction,  and  it  is  sent  for  that  pur- 
pose, that  renewing  which  it  works  in  them, 
is  not,  as  in  others,  a  mere  present  violent 
motion  only,  from  the  impulse  of  the  afflic- 
tion, but  it  is  real  and  inward  from  the  grace 
wiiich  is  in  ihern,  awakened  and  only  set  on 
work  by  the  correction  ;  and  therefore  it  is 
more  abiding  than  the  other.  There  is  in 
them  a  special  love  to  God,  working  their 
repentings  and  returning  under  the  sense  of 
his  hand.  And  it  is  from  God's  special  love 
to  them,  which  others  share  not  in,  that  he 
stirs  them  up  to  renew  repentance,  and  upon 
their  repentance  takes  off  affliction,  and 
shows  himself  graciously  reconciled  to  them. 
To  some,  likewise,  it  may  be,  that  God  may 
use  some  particular  cross,  as  a  partial  and 
concurring  means  to  the  work  of  their  re- 
pentance and  conversion  to  God.  But  how- 
ever, there  is  in  that  some  j)eculiar  love  of 
God,  and  that  effectual  working  of  his  wort! 
antl  Spiri  to  beget  grace  in  them,  by  which 
afflictions  a  e  sanctioned  and  made  useful  to 
excite  and  awaken  grace  where  it  is. 

Now,  in  all  these  different  ways,  affliction 
is  apt  for  this  effect ;  1st.  Because  it  sets  men 
in  upon  themselves,  calls  in  their  thoughts, 
which,  in  a  fair  season,  more  readily  dissi- 
pate and  scatter  themselves  abroad.  As  they 
observe,  that  much  light  disqualifies  the  sight 
of  the  mind,  as  well  as  that  of  the  body,  and 
that,  in  the  dark,  men's  thoughts  are  more 
united  and  deep  ;  thus  in  the  darkness  of  af- 
fliction, we  feel  readily  more  inward,  and 
that  acquaints  us  better  with  ourselves  and 
our  sins,  and  so,  tends  to  the  first  of  these 
two,  the  acknowledging  of  our  offences.  Be- 
sides, the  particular  res|)ect  we  speak  of,  is 
often  between  the  kind  of  affliction  and  our 
own  sins. 

2dly.  When  a  man  is  driven  by  force  from 
the  comforts  of  the  wcjrld,  which  he  used  to 
hinge  upon,  es[)ecially  by  s(jme  great  afflic- 
tion which  br  -iks  hirn  (jff  from  them  all,  then, 
if  he  have  any  thoughts  concerning  God, 
72 


those  begin  to  work  with  him  He  bethinks 
himself  for  no  other  way  of  help,  but  thinks. 
Could  I  obtain  the  Lord  to  befriend  nie,  and 
show  me  his  favor,  that  were  enough.  He 
could  deliver  me  out  of  this  distress,  and  in 
the  njeantime  support  me  under  it.  True,  I 
have  provoked  him,  and,  which  is  heavier 
than  all  my  other  troubles,  I  have  made  him 
mine  enemy  ;  yet,  I  know  he  is  very  compas- 
sionate and  gracious,  therefore  I  will  go  to 
him,  and  confess  my  offence,  and  I  trust  he 
will  pardon  me.  This  is  the  other  thing,  the 
seeking  of  his  face.  So  affliction  hath  some- 
thing in  it  suitable  to  the  work  of  both.  As 
we  see  the  lost  son  by  his  distress  came  to 
himself,  and  then  resolved  to  return  to  his 
father.  Indeed,  when  a  man  is  straitened  on 
all  hands  by  a  crowd  of  troubles,  and  finds 
no  way  out,  then  he  finds  his  only  way  is 
upward.  We  know  not  what  to  do,  bur  our 
eyes  are  toward  thee.  The  Israelites  went 
before  to  other  helpers;  they  are  reproved 
for  it,  ver.  13:  but  when  once  convinced  of 
that  folly,  no  more  of  any  such  way,  but,  as 
follows  in  the  next  words  containing  a  de- 
scription of  their  purposes.  Come,  let  us  re- 
turn to  the  Lord  our  God,  they  acknowledge 
him  as  the  just  inflicter  of  these  calamities: 
He  hath  torn,  and  he  hath  smitten.  Not  a 
word  of  Salmanazer  or  Nebuchadnezzar,  but 
their  offended  God  is  their  smiter,  and  so  no 
recourse  to  other  powers  for  this  deliverance, 
but.  Let  us  return  to  him  ;  he  u->/l  heal  us. 
Oh  then,  let  us  all  be  persuaded  to  repent- 
ance. And  certainly  all  they  who  do  truly 
mind  the  lionor  of  God,  and  the  good  of  his 
church,  will  not  be  negligent  at  such  a  time 
as  this.  I  trust  that  God  who  heareth  prayer, 
will  have  regard  to  their  prayers  and  his  own 
glory.  Amen. 


SERMON  XXXIi. 

SUIT'BLE  EXERCISE  IN  AFFLICTION. 

Isaiah  viii.  17. 

And  I  will  wait  upon  the  Lord,  that  liidi'tli  liis  face 
fnin  the  house  of  Jacob,  and  I  will  look  for  him. 

Bf.sidf.s  the  personal  trials  and  sorrows 
that  are  the  lot  of  the  godly  in  this  life,  ev- 
ery one  of  them  hath  a  share  in  the  calami- 
ties and  troubles  of  the  church  ;  not  only 
when  some  part  of  these  troubles  reaches 
them,  for  so  they  are  personal  and  private, 
but,  in  the  remotest  and  most  exempted  con- 
dition, there  is  a  living  sympathy  which  this 
can  not  divest.  And  for  both  their  own  and 
Zion's  grief's,  they  have  but  one  support  to 
Slay  their  own  souls  from  fainting  under  the 
burden  of  them,  but  it  is  a  great  one,  and 
strong  enough  to  bear  all  the  weight  that 
can  be  laid  upon  it.  And  it  is  this  the  proph- 
et here  resolves  on.  7  irill  wait  upon  tht 
Lord,  and  I  will  look  for  him. 


570 


SUITABLE  EXERCISE  IN  AFFLICTION. 


[Ser.  XXXIL 


Among  the  many  sins  that  ihc  prophets 
had  to  conieiiil  wiili  in  liic  peoiilo,  one,  and 
and  a  main  one,  wis,  their  unbelief,  whicii 
indeed  is  the  root  of  all  disobedience  and 
perverseness.  The  very  natural  motion  of 
tlie  heart  possessed  with  it,  hein?,  as  the 
apostle  speaks,  (o  dtjmrl  from  the  Uvinsr 
God,  and  lo  turn  it  aside  to  dead,  helpless 
helpers,  makes  it  run  to  and  Lonlide  in  any- 
thing rather  liian  in  him,  besides  whom 
there  is  nothing  at  all  to  be  conhded  in.  To 
this  folly,  the  prophet  here  ojiposes  God's 
command  and  his  own  resolution  contrary  to 
it  :  ver.  11.  For  llie  Lord  spake  thus  lo  me, 
and  this  was  the  echo  of  his  voice,  resound- 
ing from  my  heart,  I  will  wait.  And  this  he 
speaks  not  only  for  himself,  but  in  the  name 
of  all  that  will  adhere  to  it,  and  subscribe  lo 
his  purpose  ;  and  he  intends  it  as  a  leading 
resolution  to  the  godly  both  in  his  own  and 
after  times.  And  it  is  here  upon  record  for 
us,  as  the  truest  character  of  faith,  avid  the 
only  establishment  of  the  mind  in  the  days 
of  trouble. 

And  this  is  the  most  powerful  way  of 
teaching,  when  the  messengers  of  God  teach, 
by  their  own  example,  those  duties  they  rec- 
ommend to  others.  The  Lord  spake  thus  to 
me,  with  a  strong  hand  :  not  only  with  the 
words  of  his  mouth,  but  with  the  strength 
of  his  hand,  he  makes  the  impression  of  it 
deep  upon  their  hearts,  that  the  expression 
of  it  may  come  from  that  inward  impression 
and  persuasion  of  the  truth.  And  that  will 
indeed  bind  a  man  strongly  (as  the  word  sig- 
nifies) to  the  discharge  of  that  high  calling, 
notwithstanding  all  his  discouragements  from 
witiiin  and  from  without,  wiiich  are  so  ma- 
ny, tiiat  they  who  have  most  sense  of  the 
nature  of  it,  voukl  possibly  undo  themselves, 
were  it  not  the  strong  hand  of  God  upon 
their  consciences,  tl;at  binds  them  to  it. 

In  the  wordswe  have  to  consider,  1st,  The 
trial  of  faith.  2dly,  The  strength  of  it.  The 
trial  of  it  is  in  the  hiding  of  God's  face  from 
the  liouse  of  Jacob.  The  strength  of  it  is  in 
that  fixed  purpose  of  waiting  for  him,  even 
in  that  time  of  hiding  his  face. 

Who  hideth  his  face.]  To  a  natural  ear, 
this  soundeth  not  so  much  as  fire,  and  sword, 
and  pestilence,  and  captivity  ;  but,  being 
rightly  understood,  it  is  the  heaviest  word, 
and  very  far  weighs  down  all  other  expres- 
sions of  distress  whatsoever.  It  is  a  very 
large,  comprehensive  word.  All  the  good 
that  we  enjoy  in  any  kind,  is  but  a  beam  of 
the  face  of  God  :  and  therefore,  the  hiding 
of  his  face,  is  a  higli  expression  of  a  dark, 
afflicted  state.  The  countenance  of  God  shi- 
ning on  them  in  his  universal  providence  and 
goodness,  ii  that  which  upholds  the  world 
and  all  the  creatures  in  their  being  :  the  least 
of  them  subsists  by  him,  and  the  greatest 
can  not  subsist  witiiout  him.  So  that  the 
schools  say  truly,  "  There  is  in  the  lowest, 
alii/uid  Dei,  and  in  the  highest,  ali(juid  rnhi- 
'♦.'    He  shines  upon  all  in  that  sense,  pre- 


j  serving   them  in  being,   which  o'herwisc 

1  would  not  continue  for  a  moment,  as  in 
excellently  expressed.  Psalm  civ.  29,  and 
particularly  ct)ncerning  man.  Psalm  xc.  3; 
Job  xxxiv.  13-15. 

But  the  church  of  God,  which  we  have 
here  under  the  name  of  tlie  hovse  of  Jacob, 
doili  after  an  especial  manner  depend  upon 
a  sjiecial  aspect  of  his  countenance  for  her 
being  and  well-being.  Her  outward  peace 
and  prosperity,  with  all  the  blessings  that 
she  enjoys,  are  fruits  of  a  more  than  ordina- 
ry providence.  And  there  are  blessings  in 
their  nature  not  ordinary,  but  peculiar  to  the 
church,  which  have  more  of  the  face  of  God 
in  them  than  all  outward  splendor  of  pros- 
perity hath,  and  therefore  arc  the  special 
love-tokens  he  bestows  upon  his  spouse,  the 
church,  and  by  which  he  testifies  his  mar- 
riage witii  her.  And  that  is  the  being  of  a 
church,  the  oracles  and  ordinances  wherein 
God  manifests  himself  to  his  church,  makes 
himself  known  there  as  by  his  face,  which  is 
hid  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  And  though, 
in  comparison  of  the  vision  of  glory,  the 
clearest,  even  extraordinary  manifestations 
of  God,  are  but  as  a  glance  of  his  back  parts 
(as  that  of  Moses,  which  was  singular),  yet, 
in  such  a  sense  as  suits  our  present  condition, 
we  are  said  to  appear  before  the  Lord,  and  to 
stand  in  his  presence,  and  to  see  his  face,  and 
the  beauty  of  it,  in  his  house  and  ordinances. 
Psalm  xlii.  2  ;  xxvii.  4,  &c. 

It  IS  true,  that  the  outward  distresses  of  the 
church  and  people  of  God  are  sometimes  ex- 
pressed by  the  hiding  of  his  face  from  them, 
and  so  it  is  a  part  of  what  he  means  here  ; 
but  it  is  not  all  the  sense  of  it  anywhere,  but 
it  is  a  word  of  their  affliction,  carrying  a  re- 
flection upon  their  sin  that  provoked  the  Lord 
to  afflict  them,  and  so,  implies  his  just  anger 
kindled  by  these  provocations.  And  it  bath 
usually  the  ingredients  of  spiritual  judgments 
under  it,  either  the  depriving  them  of  God's 
ordinances  in  their  use,  or  of  the  power  and 
efficacy  of  them  (as  was  at  this  time,  we  see, 
the  prophet's  complaint),  and  possibly  a  great 
measure  of  that  heavy  judgment  ujion  the 
people,  of  blindness  of  mind  and  hardness  of 
heart,  a  stupid  senselcssless  under  their  ca- 
lamities, which  is  one  of  the  most  certain  and 
the  saddest  signs  of  their  continuance.  And 
this  is  the  prophet's  meaning  in  this  j)lace. 
For  without  these,  or  something  like  them,  a 
church  may  be  in  real  affliction,  and  yet,  not 
under  the  eclipse  of  God's  face  for  all  that. 
Yea,  possibly  it  may  shine  clearer  on  the 
church  in  a  time  of  outward  trouble,  than  in 
the  midst  of  peaceable  and  prosperous  days: 
ar>  the  moon,  when  it  is  dark  toward  the 

!  earth,  then  the  half  that  is  toward  heaven  is 
all  luminous,  and,  on  the  contrary,  when  it  is 
the  full  to  our  view,  it  is  dark  heavenward. 
We  see  it  in  the  common  instance  of  the  prim 
itive  times,  how  the  gold  shined  in  the  fur- 
nace, how  holiness  and  purity  of  religion 

I  flourished  and  spread  in  the  midst  of  perse* 


Is  A.  V  li.  17.] 


SUITABLE  EXERCISE  IN  AFF  LICTION. 


571 


cutioris,  and  zeal  for  God  burnt  brighter  than  all  these  inferior  things  are  but  figures  of  that 
the  hres  thai  were  kindled  against  it,  and  tri-  mysterious  iife  of  grace  which  the  soul  iiatb 
umphed  over  them  ;  and  soon  after  they  were  Irom  God,  and  by  which  it  lives  in  him. 
pui  out.  how  it  began  to  cool  and  abate,  and  i  There  are  some  singular  largesses  and  outlets 
ihe  purity  cf  religion  insensibly  died  into  num-  of  spiritual  joy  which  God  give?  not  to  every 
bers  of  superstitious  and  gaudy  devices  ;  and  Christian,  nor  to  any  at  all  times.  These  we 
the  church  grew  downward,  outwardly  more  speak  not  of.  But  if  we  would  enjoy  more 
pompous,  hut  lost  as  much  for  that  of  integri-  \  abiding  influences  of  his  love,  and  find  him 
tv  of  doctrine  and  worship.  And  therefore,  '  accepting  of  our  services  at  our  hands,  and 
in  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Revelation,  there  measuring  his  graces  to  us,  coming  to  us, 
IS  a  woman  clothed  trilh  the  sun,  and  the  rnoon  ,  and  giving  us  access  to  come  to  him,  patting 
under  her  feet, 3.%  full  of  heavenly  ornaments  ;  a  life  and  blessing  into  his  ordinances,  though 
as  she  is  destitute  of,  and  withal  despises,  j  with  different  degrees  ai  divers  times  ;  then 
those  of  the  earth.  And  look,  again,  lo  the  our  care  should  be,  to  entertain  this  friend- 
eighteenth  chapter,  and  see  a  woman  clothed  ship  and  correspondence  diligently,  to  watch 
in  purple,  and  decked  with  gold  and  precious  over  our  hearts  and  ways,  that  we  admit  of 
stones,  and  a  golden  cup  in  her  hand,  but  her-  :  nothing  that  may  disturb  or  interrupt  it,  and 
self,  under  all  these  dressings,  a  harlot,  and  j  to  be  jeaiousof  the  least  abatement ;  to  search 
her  golden  cup  lull  of  abominable  filthiness.  .  and  find  out  the  cause  of  it  without  delay. 
So,  then,  doubtless,  tlie  hiding  of  God's  face  And  if  we  do  thus,  we  shall  undoubtedly  find 
from  his  church,  is  something  beyond  her  out-  ,  the  Lord  willing  to  converse  and  dwell  with 
ward  lowness  and  affliction,  and  greater  and  us  ;  and  though  he  give  us  lower  measures  of 
heavier  than  that ;  the  withdrawing  of  his  comfort  and  graces  than  others  get,  they  shall 
presence,  and  his  not  appearing  for  their  de-  \  be  so  much  as  will  enable  us  to  go  on  in  our 
liverance  out  of  trouble,  and  their  spiritual  1  journey.  Above  all,  study  humility.  The 
comfort  and  benefit  under  it.  high  Lord  loves  to  give  himself  and  hissocie- 

1st.  Now,  as  that  is  put  for  the  top  of  all;  ty  most  to  the  lowly  heart.  Trust  not  at  all 
distresses,  we  should  esteem  it  so.  But  in  to  thyself,  nor  to  anything  below  him.  Lay 
reference  to  ourselves,  and  to  the  church  of  all  thy  confidence  upon  his  power  and  good- 
God,  I  am  afraid  a  great  part  of  us  do  not  ness.  Ye  see  here,  that  it  was  the  multitude 
know  what  it  is  to  have  this  light.  If  we  did,  of  sins  that  eclipsed  his  face  from  his  own 
there  needed  no  more  urging  it  ;  itself  would  people,  the  house  of  Jacob  ;  as  he  tells  them 
persuade  us  enough  to  prize  it,  and  to  fear  |  by  this  prophet,  chap.  lix.  1.  It  was  particu- 
the  loss  of  it.  The  soul  that  knows  the  larly  their  distrust  of  God,  and  running  to 
sweetness  of  his  presence  and  his  face  shining  ,  other  helps  beside  him.  Ever,  the  more  he 
on  it,  will  account  no  place  nor  condition  is  in  thy  esteem,  the  more  thou  shalt  have  of 
hard,  provided  it  may  be  refreshed  with  that :  him  :  and  the  more  thou  believest  his  all-suf- 
as  the  saints  have  been  in  caves  and  dungeons  ficiency,  the  more  thou  shalt  find  it  and  know 
enjoying  more  of  that  light  in  those  times,  it  in  thine  own  experience.  Yea,  it  may  be 
when  other  comforts  have  been  abridged,  that  when  his  face  is  hid  from  the  church,  ia 
Then  they  have  had  a  beam  from  heaven  respect  of  public  distress  and  desertion,  yet, 
into  their  souls  m  their  darkest  dungeon,  far  it  may  even  then  shine  bright  upon  a  soul  that 
more  worth  than  the  light  of  the  sun  and  ail  secretly  cleaveth  to  him  and  delights  in  him. 
the  advantages  the  world  can  afford.  The  So  here,  the  prophet  says  not  that  he  hides 
rabbin  who  lived  twelve  years  in  a  dungeon  '  his  face  from  ?ne,  but,  from  the  house  of 
in  Francis's  time,  called  a  book  he  wrote,  j  Jacoh. 

"  The  Polar  Splendor  ;"  implying  that  he  had  |  2dly.  As  for  the  church,  learn  by  the  proph- 
then  seen  most  intellectual  light  when  he  had  ■  et  and  other  penmen  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  to 
seen  least  sensible  light.  And  thus  it  is  with  eye  and  consider  the  estate  of  God's  church  ; 
many  Christians,  in  the  darkness  of  distress  ;  I  to  take  notice  how  he  deals  with  it  when  he 
if  they  seek  after  this  light,  they  may  blame  \  shines  on  it  and  when  he  hides  his  face,  and 
themselves  and  their  own  neglect  if  they  find  ^  be  deeply  affected  with  it.  Let  thine  eye  be 
not  somewhat  of  this  truth.  On  the  other  |  looking  out,  and  let  thine  e?/e  «/ffC<  /A?/ /iear<, 
hand,  to  a  spiritual  mind,  this  hiding  of  God's  as  it  is.  Lam.  iii.  51.  Far  be  it  from  thee,  to 
face  will  damp  and  distress  the  pleasantest  !  judge  it  any  impertinence,  and  think  it  con- 
outward  condition  which  can  be  allotted  him.  |  cerns  thee  not.  Truly  most  of  us  have  both 
It  was  in  the  midst  of  David's  prosperity,  eyes,  and  if  we  had  twenty  more,  we  should 
enough  to  unseason  all :  Thou  didsl  hide  thy  \  have  them  all  pcjring  upon  our  private  condi 
face,  and  I  was  troubled.  Psalm  xxx.  7.  |  tion.  Providing  we  might  have  ease  and 
Now,  if  we  would  have  the  Lord,  to  whom  good  days,  we  should  feel  little  for  the  affiic- 
believing  souls  are  married  in  truth  and  righ-  I  lions  of  Joseph.  It  were  not  excusable,  if 
teoustiess,  to  look  jjleasantly  on  us,  our  great  j  even  our  secret  devotions  took  us  up  so  <is  to 
ambition  shoul  1  be,  to  walk  in  all  well  pleas-  I  forget  the  church  ;  how  much  less  excusable, 
ing  unto  him,  a. id  to  seek  of  himself  those  or-  ;  to  have  our  hearts  engrossed  wholly  by  our 
namenis  aud  that  spiritual  beauty  which  may  earthly  coticerns  !  And  we  see  here  what  it 
make  us  lovely  in  his  eyes  ;  as  a  faithful  wife  i  is  we  have  to  do  on  the  church's  behalf:  to 
(lecketh  herself  only  for  her  husband.    For  ,  bewail  her  sius,  begging  pardon  for  those 


SUITABLE  EXERCISE  IN  AFFLICTION.  [Ser.  XXXH- 


evils  for  which  God  hath  hid  his  face  from 
ner  ;  and  wliat  to  desire,  only  to  commence 
her  suii  anew,  as  troubles  arise.  Cause  thy 
face  to  s/iine,  ami  xce  shall  be  saved  ;  as  the 
returning  u{'  tlie  spring  makes  all  things  to 
flourish,  and  again  puts  a  new  visage  upon 
nature.  Mark  ilie  harmony  and  resound  of 
die  Lord's  returning  to  Israel  :  the  returning 
of  their  hopes  and  the  sweet  elTects  of  it,  Hos. 
xiv.  1,  5.  All  those  heavy  indignations  that 
are  on, or  might  trouble,  the  church  and  them- 
selves, arise  from  security,  impenitence,  and 
the  fruitlessness  of  the  word  anions  them, 
which  makes  the  Lord  hide  his  face  from 
them.  Our  part  is,  therefore,  to  return  to 
him.  Oh,  had  we  hearts  to  put  the  Lord  to 
it,  he  could  and  would  do  yet  greater  things 
for  us.  And  this  we  ought  earnestly  to  desire, 
and  with  all  patience  to  wait  for  it  ;  which  is 
tilt!  prophet's  way,  J  will  wait. 

Tlie  two  wheels  of  the  soul  are  desire  and 
hope.  Dilliculty  sets  an  edge  upon  desire  ; 
aniJ  the  appearance  of  obtaining,  upholds 
hope.  And  boih  these  are  in  the  words  the 
pr(;phet  here  uses  for  his  waiting  and  expect- 
ing ;  for  they  import  an  earnest  desire,  and 
yet  a  patient  attending  upon  the  issue.  Look 
to  that  of  David,  Psalm  cxxx.  6  :  I  ivait  for 
thee  more  than  they  that  wait  for  the  morning 
— that  watch  until  the  morning,  as  some  ren- 
der it  ;  in  the  cold  night  that  watch.  The 
thing  the  pilot  waits  for  is  not  a  private  good 
to  himself,  for  that  could  not  stand  a  counter- 
balance to  the  evil  he  is  sensible  of.  The 
Lord's  hiding  his  face  from  the  house  of  Ja- 
cob was  that  which  troubled  him,  and  his 
waiting  was  answerable  for  the  return  of  that 
light  to  the  house  of  Jacob.  Grieved  that  the 
Lord  should  absent  liimself  from  his  people, 
he  looks  back  upon  God's  frequent  appear- 
ings  and  showing  of  his  face  to  Jacob,  by 
such  visions  as  gave  lustre  and  slory  to  the 
place.  See  Hosea  xii.  9  :  We  found  him  in 
Bethel,  there  he  spake  with  xis — even  ns,  who 
have  interest  in  these  gracious  appearances. 
And  there  it  is  urged  for  a  ground  of  hope  and 
■waiting  and  calling  on  God.  Now,  for  the 
face  of  God  to  be  hid  from  those  who  were 
the  posterity  of  Jacob  and  God's  own  peculiar 
people,  was  a  sad  thought  to  the  prophet, 
who  stays  himself  with  this,  that  the  Lord 
God  had  made  known  to  him  his  purpose  of 
returning  and  restoring  the  house  of  Jacob, 
and  ui)on  this  he  resolves  to  believe,  and  to 
rely  upon  Uod's  word  for  it :  /  will  wait. 

Hoping,  waiting,  and  believing,  are  taken 
indifl'erently  in  the  Scriptures,  and  all  the  dif- 
ference is  only  in  relation  to  time.  Faith  be- 
lieves the  present  word,  and  hope  looks  out 
for  the  after-aci:omplishmcnt ;  and  the  patient 
waiting  for  it  results  from  both.  So  they  are 
but  the  actings  of  the  same  faith  in  a  different 
notion,  and  they  are  indeed  the  test  of  faith. 
Our  hearts  are  naturally  of  another  temper 
tnan  to  take  the  Lord's  word  and  re/xse  upon 
it,  and,  when  it  is  deferred,  yea,  and  cross  ap- 
pearances come  in  between,  yet,  still  firmly 


to  believe  and  patiently  to  wait  for  the  ac- 
complishment. \V e  are  of  a  childish  humor. 
That  which  we  laugh  at  in  children,  in  little 
things,  such  as  their  minds  are  set  on,  we 
may  be  sorry  for  in  ourselves  as  a  greater 
folly,  being  in  greater  aflairs.  We  are  all  in 
haste,  and  would  have  things  come  as  last  as 
our  fancying  ;  and  upon  the  delay  of  these 
mercies  we  look  for,  are  almost  ready  to  givc 
over.  That  which  brake  forth  from  that 
wicked  king's  mouth,  the  seed  of  it  is  in  all 
our  hearts,  when  things  appear  worse  and 
worse  :  This  evil  is  from  the  Lord  ;  why 
should  I  wait  for  him  any  lons^eri  2  Kings 
vi.  23.  It  is  strange,  in  court  suits  and  other 
business  of  a  like  nature,  how  long  a  man 
will  wait  upon  another,  and  think  all  is 
well  if  he  speed  at  last ;  and  yet  how  briskly 
we  deal  with  God  if  he  answers  not  at  the 
first ! 

But  faith  teaches  us  (so  to  speak)  spiritual 
civility,  good  manners  toward  God  ;  it  lets  the 
soul  see  his  greatness,  and  goodness,  and 
truth,  and  persuades  us  to  wait  on  him,  and 
not  to  weary  in  waiting  :  to  wait  fatienlly,  as 
it  i^  Psalm  xl.  1.  Faith  composes  the  mind, 
cures  that  light,  fickle  hastiness  which  is  nat- 
urally in  us.  He  that  helieveth  shall  not  make 
haste,  says  the  same  prophet,  Isa.  xxviii.  16. 
And  is  it  not  good  reason  that  we  wait  for 
him  ?  Is  he  not  wise  enough  to  choose  the 
fittest  times  for  his  own  purposes  ?  Well  may 
we  wait  till  he  be  gracious  to  us,  for  he  waits 
to  he  i>racious  to  us.  Isa.  xxx.  18.  He  is  not 
slack,  but  is  staying  only  for  the  due  season  ; 
his  love  is  waiting  for  the  time  that  his  wis- 
dom hath  appointed.  And,  to  express  his  af- 
fection in  our  terms,  he  is  longing  for  that 
time,  as  well  as  we  are.  For  the  same  word 
is  there  used  for  his  waiting,  that  both  here 
and  in  that  verse  is  used  for  ours,  and  it  sig- 
nifies an  earnest  waiting  or  breathing  for  that 
thing  we  wait  for  ;  and  therefore,  since  he 
waits  and  longs,  our  waiting  's  in  a  happy 
conformity  to  him.  And  thus,  with  good  rea- 
son it  is  concluded.  They  are  blessed  that 
wait  for  him.  Thus  there  is  a  word  very  an- 
swerable, Hah.  ii.  3  :  The  vision  is  for  an  af- 
pointnd  time — we  read.  At  the  end  it  shall 
speak  ;  but  it  may  be  rendered,  Jt  breatheth 
toward  the  end  ;  runs,  as  it  were,  so  fast  that 
it  panteth.  Tlie  same  word  is  used.  Cant,  ii., 
for  the  rising  of  the  morning. 

By  fretting  impatience  there  is  nothing 
gained  but  needless  desire.  It  advances  not 
our  business,  but  perplexes  us  to  no  purpose. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  patient  waiting  loses 
not  a  moment,  but  attains  its  end  in  the  very 
due  time  determined  ;  and  hath  this  advan- 
tage  in  the  meantime,  that  it  puts  the  mind 
into  a  temper  of  peace  and  contented ness, 
which  a  man  may  act  and  profess  to  others, 
but  can  not  truly  have  within  himself  with- 
out faith  Isa.  xxvi.  3  :  Thou  wilt  keep  htm 
in  perfect  peace  rvhose  mind  is  stayed  on  thee, 
because  he  trusleth  in  thee.  This  waiting  is 
always  answered  ;  never  marked  with  disap- 


ISA.  Mil.  17.] 


SUITABLE  EXERCISE  IN  AFFLICTION. 


573 


pointment,  as  is  the  ordinary  custom  of  other 
hupes.  Therefore,  that  which  the  prophet 
hath,  He  that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste, 
the  apustle  Peler  renders  shall  not  he  ashamed, 
1  Pet.  ii.  6.  Though  he  hasten  not,  but  wait, 
and  wait  long,  yet  his  waiting  shall  not  shame 
him  ;  none  shall  have  matter  to  laugh  at  him 
for  it,  for  his  waiting  shall  be  repaid  with 
success,  his  hope  shall  be  accomplished  ; 
whereas,  any  other  expectations  make  men 
ridiculous,  and  expose  them  to  scorn,  in  that 
they  look  often  for  most  contentment  in  those 
things  that  deceive  them.  The  brooks  that 
grow  dry  in  summer,  are  an  emblem  of 
worldly  hopes.  Thus,  Job  vi.  19  :  The  troops 
of  Tema  looked,  the  companies  o  f  Sheba  watt- 
ed for  them.  They  were  con/minded  because 
they  had  hoped  ;  they  came  thither  and  were 
ashamed.  But  this  waiting  on  the  Lord  never 
yet  deluded  any.  I  v>aited  patienlly  for  the 
Lord,  says  the  psalmist,  and  he  inclined  to 
me,  and  heard  my  cry.  Psalm  xl.  1.  Then  he 
makes  his  experience  a  common  good  ;  draws 
it  to  a  general  conclusion,  ver.  4  :  Blessed  is 
the  man  that  maketh  the  Lord  his  trust.  Thus 
he  confirms  that  general  truth  by  his  particu- 
lar experience,  and,  as  the  apostle  says  of 
them  who  believe,  sets  to  his  seal  that  God 
IS  true.  Thus  ought  every  dne,  upon  his  ex- 
perience of  the  Lord's  sroodness  in  his  deliver- 
ance, speak  to  the  advantage  of  the  Lord's 
faithfulness,  and  say,  "  As  he  is  called  abun- 
dant in  goodness  and  truth,  SO  I  have  found 
hitn,  and  I  would  have  others  to  rely  upon 
him  :  if  my  tesiimony  could  do  any  good  to 
that,  or  persuade  them,  they  shall  be  sure  to 
have  it  wheresoever  I  come."  Thus  Psalm 
xxxiv.,  the  prophet  will  not  smother  the 
Lord's  goodness  which  he  hath  found  :  This 
poor  man  cried,  and  the  Lord  heard  him.  And 
ver.  8,  he  invites  all  to  taste  and  see  that  the 
Lord  is  good  ;  blessed  are  they  who  trust  in 
him.  He  will  advise  others  to  this  upon  his 
own  experience.  Surely  he  will  know  where 
to  seek,  when  he  is  again  put  to  it.  As  he 
loves  the  Lord  for  what  he  hath  found,  so  he 
will  make  use  of  him  always  in  all  his  straits. 
Psalm  cxvi.  1  :  I  love  the  Lord  ;  and  seeing 
he  hath  inclined  his  ear  to  me,  T  am  resolved 
upon  this  course,  I  will  call  upon  him  as  long 
as  I  live. 

The  dinicultiei5  which  the  prophet's  faith 
here  encounters,  and  which  commended  the 
strength  of  it,  are  these  iwo:  1st,  The  multi- 
tude (jf  unbelievers  round  about,  as  a  mighty 
torrent  which  he  was  to  come  against  ;  that 
so  few  would  rely  on  the  Lord.  But  he  re- 
solves against  it,  as  Joshua  did  for  obedience, 
Choose  you  whom  you  will  serve,  so  here,  for 
faith  ;  let  others  take  their  course,  each  one 
run  his  ov/n  way,  my  choice  is  this,  I  will 
wait  on  the  Lord.  And  this  is  no  small  mat- 
ter, to  maintain  the  preciousness  of  faith 
against  the  profaneness  and  atheism  of  the 
world.  And  considering  the  disregard  of  God 
tnai  there  is  in  the  society  and  converse  of  the  ; 
greatest  pari,  it  is  much  if  a  godly  mind  do 


not  sometimes  suffer  something  by  it ;  and 
we  have  need  to  beware  of  it. 

2dly,  The  other  difficulty  is  in  the  thing  it- 
self, which  looks  so  dark  and  unlikely,  that 
many  of  his  people  are  giving  over  trusting 
on  him,  and  he  seems  to  give  over  helping 
them.  He  hides  his  face,  yet  I  will  wait 
on  him  alone,  says  the  prophet.  Though  all 
other  hearts  fail,  yet  I  will  wait  on  thee. 
Though  thou  withdraw  thyself  and  hide  thy 
face,  yet  I  will  look  to  no  other,  I  will  stay 
by  thee,  and  wait  on  thee.  And  although  not 
only  my  days  may  pass,  but  ages,  before  the 
things  be  accomplished  I  look  for,  yet  I  will 
believe  they  shall  come  to  pass.  I  will  look 
on  them  in  this  notion,  though  I  can  not  live 
to  see  them.  And,  indeed,  besides  that  the 
great  temporal  deliverances  which  the  proph- 
et foresaw  and  here  looks  into,  cnme  long 
after  his  days,  it  is  likely  that  he  looks  be- 
yond these  too,  to  the  coming  of  the  Messiah, 
of  whom  he  speaks  so  clearly  both  in  this 
chapter  and  the  former,  and  also  in  the  fol- 
lowing. Notwithstanding  all  the  sins  of  this 
'  people,  and  all  the  heavy  judgments  their 
sins  call  for  and  have  brought,  or  shall  bring 
on  them,  yet  he  believed  the  Lord  would  send 
them  that  great  deliverer  and  Savior,  his  on- 
ly Son,  whom  he  had  promised.  Thus  the 
eye  of  faith  looks  over  the  head  of  many  dif- 
ficulties and  of  many  ages  between  it,  to  the 
thing  it  expects,  and  sees  it  beyond  them  all 
(so  the  word  here,  I  will  look  for  him,  is  to 
stand  upright  as  a  line  and  look  out,  answer- 
ing to  that  word,  'AnoicapaMKta,  Roin.  viii.)  • 
desiring  and  confidently  expecting  good  from 
him  to  his  church.  In  these  kingdoms, 
though  the  outward  face  of  affairs  look  quite 
contrary,  and  the  Lord  for  a  time  suffer  our 
troubles  to  increase,  and  hide  his  face  as  not 
regarding  us,  suffering  things,  by  the  perverse- 
ness  of  men  on  all  hands,  to  turn  to  a  univer- 
sal confusion  and  disorder,  yet  still,  you  that 
know  the  Lord  and  his  dealing,  pray,  and  be- 
lieve, and  wait,  and  be  assured  your  prayer 
shall  he  answered  in  due  time. 

Thus  for  your  personal  condition.  You 
that  desire  the  light  of  God's  countenance 
above  all  things,  though  he  seem  to  deny  and 
hide  his  face  from  you  for  a  time,  yet  wait  on 
him,  leave  him  not,  for  if  ye  do,  you  are  siue 
to  perish  ;  but  if  ye  wait  on  him,  ye  may  say, 
it  may  be  he  will  be  gracious,  but  if  he  will 
not,  I  know  no  other  to  go  to  ;  I  will  still 
wait  and  try  him.  "What  think  ye  of  Job's 
purpose  ?  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  J  will  trust 
in  him  :  though  I  saw  him  ready  to  throw  me 
into  hell,  yet  I  will  look  for  mercy.  Faith 
can  not  be  nonplused.  There  is  in  it  a  pious 
obstinacy  that  will  not  yield  to  the  greatest 
opposition,  nor  give  over  so  long  as  there  is 
any  possibility  of  prevailing.  7  said,  says 
Jonah,  I  am  cast  out  from  thy  presence,  yet 
for  all  that,  I  can  not  give  the  matter  up 
for  desperate ;  I  must  have  leave  to  look 
toward  thee  ;  Yet  I  will  look  toward  thy  holy 
temple.    Jon.  ii.  4.    Invincible  faith  as  here, 


574 


^?ERMON  TO  THE  CbERrxY. 


[2  Cor.  v.  2t 


/  will  wait — 7  will  lonk.  His  doubling  the 
word  is  meant  to  express  liis  resolvetlness,  in 
tlie  beijinninjj  of  the  verse,  and  in  the  end  (if 
it.  And  so,  faith  conquers  the  difficulty  that 
makes  against  it.  And  this  is  the  purest  act- 
in?  of  faith,  where  there  is  nothing  of  sense 
to  support  it,  and  yet  it  holds  out,  and,  as 
Aliraiiain  did,  aijainst  hope  believes  in  hope. 
Wiien  the  soul  is  at  the  hardest  pinch,  failli 
will  say,  I  will  lie  at  the  footstool  of  the 
throne  of  grace  until  I  be  thrown  from  it.  I 
will  not  away  from  it.  I  will  wait  on  till  the 
last  moment. 


SERMON 

PREACHED  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

2  CoR.  V.  20. 

Now  thon,  we  are  ambassadors  for  Christ,  as  though 
(iod  did  beseech  you  by  us  ;  we  pray  you  in  Christ's 
stead,  be  ye  reconciled  unto  God. 

It  /5  appointed  unto  all  men  once  to  die, 
and  a  fter  that  to  come  to  jud sment,  saith  the 
author  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  Two 
sad  necessities  to  sinful  man.  This  last,  na- 
ture's light  discovers  not ;  but  the  other, 
though  it  be  seldom  deep  in  our  thoughts,  is 
almost  always  before  our  eyes  ;  and  though 
few  seriously  remember  it,  yet  none  can  be 
ignorant  of  it.  Against  this  known  and  uni- 
versal evil,  the  chief  of  heathen  moralists, 
the  stoics,  have  much  endeavored  to  arm 
thetnselves.  And  others  have  bent  the 
strength  of  their  wits  to  master  the  fear  of 
death,  and  have  made  themselves,  and  some 
of  their  hearers,  conquerors  in  imagination  : 
but  \.  Sen  the  king  of  terrors  really  appeared, 
he  dashed  their  stout  resolutions,  and  turn- 
ed all  their  big  words  and  looks  into  appal- 
ment. 

And  the  truth  is,  there  are  no  reasonings  in 
the  world  able  to  argue  a  man  into  a  willing- 
ness to  part  with  a  present  being,  without 
some  hopes,  at  least,  of  one  more  happy  ;  nor 
will  any  contentedly  dislodge,  though  they 
dwell  never  so  meanly,  except  upon  terms  of 
chanijing  for  the  belter. 
'  The  Christian,  then  (not  the  nominal  Chris- 
tian, but  he  who  is  truly  such),  is  the  only 
man  that  can  look  death  immediately  in  the 
face  ;  lor  he  knows  assuredly  that  he  shall 
remove  to  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eter- 
nal in  I  he  heavens. 

The  discourse  bejinning  this  chapter,  oc- 
casioned by  the  end  of  the  former,  continues 
to  the  12th  verse,  where  the  apostle  subjoins 
an  a)iology,  for  his  Ui^h  and  confident  man- 
ner of  speaking  :  which  apology  serves  like- 
wise for  a  very  ])erpncnt  re-entry  to  the  main 
discourse  of  the  former  chapter,  concerning 
the  worih  and  work  of  the  ministry.  But  be- 
tause  of  the  apostle's  fre(iuent,  yet  seasonable 
digressions,   proleptic  and  exegetic,  divers 


may  model  the  analysis  after  divers  man- 
ners. 

To  take,  then,  the  discourse  as  it  lies  here 
together,  abstract  from  precedent  and  conse- 
quent, I  think  It  may  be  divided  into  these 
two  beads  :  First,  the  apostle's  rest.lution 
for  death.  Secondly,  liis  course  and  manner 
of  life.  Each  is  supported  with  its  proper 
grounds  or  reasons:  the  former  to  verse  9, 
the  other  to  the  end  of  the  chapter. 

The  resolution  is  so  strong,  tlial  he  expres- 
ses it  by  the  words  of  earnest  desiring  and 
groaning.  And  this  resolution  for  death, 
springs  from  his  assurance  of  life  after  death  : 
We  know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this 
tabernacle  were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building 
of  God  not  made  ivith  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens.  He  sjieaks  in  his  own  and  his  col- 
league's names.  And  the  whole  matter  of 
both  is  set  forth  by  an  elegant  continued  met- 
aphor. Both  the  desire  and  the  assurance 
causing  it,  are  illustrated.  First,  by  their 
chief  cause,  verse  5.  Noiv  he  that  hath 
wrought  us  for  the  selfsame  thing'  is  God: 
who  also  halh  n^ivcn  unto  us  the  earnest  of  the 
Spirit.  Both  in  his  gracious  purpose  for  this, 
hath  he  made  us,  and  in  a  pledge  of  perform- 
ance he  hath  given  us  earnest,  even  his 
Spirit.  Then  they  are  illustrated  by  their 
subordinate  cause,  faith,  verse  7.  For  we 
walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight. 

His  course  and  purpose — for  he  both  signi- 
fieth  what  he  doth,  and  how  he  intends  to 
continue  to  do — his  course  and  pur])ose  ol 
life  is,  in  general,  to  walk  acceptably  in  this 
absence  from  the  Lord  (ver.  9).  And  in  |)ar- 
ticular,  walking  diligently  and  faithfully  in 
the  ministry.    Ver.  11,  18. 

One  reason  of  this  course  and  purpose,  is 
implied  in  that  illative  which  knits  this 
part  with  the  former.  And  indeed,  a  good 
frame  of  life  hath  a  most  necessary  connexion 
with  a  strong  resolution  for  death,  and  assur- 
ance of  life  eternal  ;  and  they  mutually  cause 
one  another.  That  a  pious  life  gives  strength 
against  death,  and  hope  of  eternal  life,  none 
will  deny  ;  nor  is  it  less  true,  that  the  assur- 
ance animates  and  stirs  up  to  obedience  :  so 
far  is  it  from  causing  sloth,  that  it  is  the  only 
spur  to  acceptable  walking.  We  are  confi' 
dent,  saith  he  (ver.  8),  wherefore,  we  labor 
to  be  accepted  (ver.  9). 

This  purpose  is  further  backed  with  a  dou- 
ble reason,  viz.,  of  two  pious  affections  ;  the 
one  of  fear,  ver.  11,  the  other  of  love,  ver.  \\  ; 
that  of  fear,  arising  from  the  consideration  of 
the  judgment-seat  of  Christ ;  that  of  love, 
from  the  thoughts  of  his  death.  Ver.  14.  For 
that  love  of  God  conslraineth  us,  because  we 
thus  judge,  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then  were 
all  dead.  And  he  died  for  all,  that  they 
which  live  should  not  henceforth  live  unto 
themselves,  but  unto  Hnn  who  died  for  them, 
and  rose  again.  These  are  the  reasons  that 
stir  up  this  eminent  apostle  to  a  study  of  ac- 
ceptal)le  walking  in  all  things,  particularly 
in  his  especial  calling,  the  ministry  of  his  rec- 


2  Cor.  v.  20.] 


SERMON  TO  THE  CLERGY. 


575 


onciliation: — approving  himself  therein  to 
his  God,  and  as  much  as  may  be  to  the  con- 
sciences of  the  people  ;  saying  and  doing  all 
things  with  intention  of  his  glory  and  tlieir 
good  ;  free  from  vain  glory  ;  not  speaking  for 
himself,  nor  living  to  himself,  but  to  Him  who 
died  for  him,  and  rose  again  ;  not  possessed 
with  carnal  respects  touching  himself  or  oth- 
ers ;  no,  nor  entertaining  carnal  considera- 
tions of  Christ  himself,  as  being  ascended, 
and  therefore  lo  be  considered  and  conversed 
with  after  a  new  manner  (spiritually)  by  all 
those  that  are  new  creatures  in  him,  and 
reconciled  to  God  by  him,  through  the  ministry 
of  the  word  of  reconciliation.  Which  recon- 
ciliation God  himself  hath  thus  effected  (ver. 
21).  He  hath  made  him  lo  be  sin  for  us,  tvho 
knew  no  sin  ;  thai  we  might  he  made  the  righ- 
teousness nf  God  in  him.  Who  knew  no  sin, 
practically  knew  none;  was  altogether  free 
from  sin,  not  only  from  commission  and  con- 
sent, but  from  the  very  first  and  least  motions 
of  sin.  And  indeed  no  one  was  thus  fit  to  be 
made  sin,  but  one  who  knew  none,  an  immac- 
ulate Lamb.  Made  him  lo  he  sin,  not  by  con- 
straint, not  beside  his  knowledge  and  consent. 
The  heathens  observed,  that  their  sacrifices 
were  successless  and  unhappy,  when  the 
beasts  came  unwillingly  to  the  altar.  We 
need  not  fear  this  pu\nl :  our  blessed  sacrifice, 
who  was  also  priest  and  ahar,  offered  him- 
self up  cheerfully  :  Then  saith  he,  Lo,  J  come 
to  do  thy  will.  Heb.  X.  7.  And  I  lay  down 
my  life  for  the  sheep,  saith  the  good  shep- 
herd, John  X.  15.  To  he  sin  ;  not  only  to 
take  the  similitude  of  sinful  flesh,  but  becom- 
ing man  for  man's  take,  and  to  be  numhered 
with  transgressors,  as  the  prophet  sjieaks, 
Isa.  liii.  12,  and  to  hear  the  sin  of  mam/,  but 
the  imputed  guilt  and  inflicted  punishment  :)f 
sin.  And  thes^  sins  of  many  made  him  im- 
putaliveiy  an  exceedingly  great  sinner,  and 
therefore  he  is  said  to  have  been  made  sm, 
by  reason  of  this  imputation  ;  whereupon  fol- 
lowed bis  suffering  as  a  sacrifice..  And  [con- 
ceive, that  the  reason  why  the  word  which 
in  the  first  language  signifies  sin,  is  some- 
times taken  for  the  sacrifice,  is  because  the 
confessed  sins  were,  in  a  manner,  transferred 
and  laid  upon  the  heads  of  the  legal  sacrifi- 
ces. And  so  saith  the  prophet.  He  hath  laid 
on  him  the  tnu/uiti/  of  us  nil.    Isa.  liii.  6. 

He  was  then  made  sin  primarily,  by  impu- 
tation of,  and  consequently,  by  suffering  for, 
oUr  sins,  as  our  expiatory  sacrifice.  Jle  made 
kirn  sm  fir  us,  in  our  stead,  and  for  our  good  ; 
to  wit,  our  redemption  ;  as  follows.  That  we 
might  he  made,  or  hecome  [yii-w/Jtooi]  the  righ- 
teousness of  God  in  him  ;  but  be  it  made 
^XiF'j/ifOi],  it  is  no  otherwise  than  Christ  was 
made  sin  irnpuiaiively  :  and  if  this  infer- 
ence need  help,  each  word  that  follows  will 
confirm  it.  Ri 'jhleousness,  not  righteous; 
to  show  the  perfec'ion  of  it,  not  to  urj^e  its 
unity.  Righteousness,  not  righteousnesses; 
as  intimating  that  i  is  but  one  righteousness, 
whereby  we  are  all  justified  of  God.    Not  our 


own,  but  in  him,  not  in  ourselves.  All  which 
makes  it  clear,  as  it  were  written  with  the 
sunbeams,  that,  by  the  most  gracious  ex- 
change, as  he  took  our  sins,  so  he  hath  given 
us  his  righteousness.  It  is  true,  this  is  al- 
ways accompanied  with  holiness  inherent, but 
imperfect.  By  that  imputed  righteousness, 
the  spouse  of  Christ  is  clear  as  (he  sun,  all 
luminous  :  but  in  regard  of  infused  righteous- 
ness, she  is  only  fair  as  the  moon,  but  the  one 
half  light,  and  that  appearing  unequally  too, 
waxing  and  waning,  and  having  spots  at  its 
fulness  here  below.  She  is  holy  in  this  re- 
gard, but  righteousness  in  the  other  righteous- 
ness of  God  ;  his  by  appointing,  his  by  gift 
and  application,  and  his  by  acceptance.  Of 
God  in  him  ;  that  is,  its  being  in  him  who  ia 
called  the  Lord  our  righteousness  ;  in  him  in 
whom  the  Father  acquiesceth,  and  is  well 
pleased.    Blessed  are  they  that  trust  in  him. 

But  to  the  former,  ver.  20.  Now  then  we 
are  ambassadors  for  Christ,  as  though  God 
did  beseech  you  by  us  ;  we  pray  you  in  Christ's 
stead,  he  ye  reconciled  unto  God. 

Here  we  have  all  the  parties  requisite  in 
the  treaty  of  reconciliation.  God,  though  of- 
fended, seeking  peace  with  men,  his  creatures, 
and  by  sin  become  rebels:  As  though  God 
beseeched  you.  Christ  the  only  procurer,  and 
likewise  the  chief  ambassador,  of  this  peace. 
And  then,  lastly,  have  we  the  sub-delegated 
messengers  of  this  peace:  We.  as  ambassadors 
for  Christ.  We,  the  apostles,  and  all  the 
ministers  of  the  gospel.  For  as  in  their  pecu- 
liarities, they  had  no  successors,  for  that  is 
repugnant,  so,  in  those  things  wherein  they 
have  successors,  all  true  ministers  of  the  word 
are  such.  Theaposile  himself  calls  this  em- 
bassy, the  ministry  of  reconciliation,  ver.  18. 

Ambassadors  for  Christ, ih.n  is,  in  hiss'lead. 
In  this  verse,  we  have  the  ollieeof  the  minis- 
try, under  the  name  of  ambassadors  ;  and  their 
message,  the  delivery  whereof  is  the  execu- 
tion of  their  office,  the  entreaty  of  men,  to  be 
reconciled  to  God.  Both  the  office  and  ihe 
message  are  backed  wiili  due  authority  or 
warrant.  The  office's  warrant  is,  that  we  are 
ambassadors  for  Christ,  or  in  his  stead  :  that 
is,  subordinate  to  hin)  by  his  own  ordination: 
the  warrant  of  the  message  is  God's  own  will 
who  sent  them,  for  it  is  his  mind  to  beseech 
you  by  us. 

But  to  resume  the  first  division,  whereof 
each  of  its  two  parts  will  afford  its  proposi- 
tion ;  and  upon  these  two  propositions  I  shall 
insist,  in  what  remains  to  be  said. 

The  first  proposition  is  this:  from  their 
office,  ministers  of  the  gospel  are  true  ambas- 
sadors, under  Christ,  from  God  to  man.  Aa 
soon  as  man  had  divested  himself  of  God's 
image,  his  shameful  nakedness  made  him  run 
into  the  l-hickets  ;  nor  could  he  ever  since  then 
look  his  Maker  directly  in  the  face,  nor  en- 
dure to  hear  his  immediate  voice.  Therefore, 
when  God  himself  would  cotnc  and  dwell 
among  men,  he  veiled  his  deily  with  human 
flesh:  there  he  stood  belli  id  the  wall,  and 


576 


SERMON  TO  THE  CLERGY. 


[2  Cor.  v.  20. 


showed  himself  through  ihe  lattices.  Let  us 
nol  hcitr  again  the  voice,  nor  let  us  sec  tins 
i(i  rat  Jh  e  any  more,  t/iul  icc  die  not,  said  the 
peoi)le  at  Horeb  ;  and  the  Lord  who  knew 
Jieir  mould,  saiih,  T/tci/  finite  said  well.  Deut. 
•■.  28.  /  n  tll  raise  tliem  up  a  proplicl,  said 
j-od,  y;-()«i  a/nong  their  brethren;  like  unto 
thee  '.  and  lie  did  so.  As  he  came  for  man's 
good,  so,  for  the  same  end,  went  he  away 
again:  It  is  expedient  for  you,  saith  he,  thai 
1  go  away.  John  xvi.  7.  And  since  that  time 
he  hath  continued  to  send  men,  men  yet  liker 
tliemselves  than  he  was,  men  subject  to  like  in- 
firmities,sin  notexcepled.  FA'enas  my  Father 
sent  me,  so  send  I  you,  saith  he.  John  xx.  21. 
But  the  loss  in  this  cliange  were  intolerable, 
did  he  not  allay  it  somewiiat  by  sending  his 
iipirit  upon  those  men  whom  he  sends  to  men  : 
I/'  I  depart  I  icill  send  him  unto  you,  saith  he, 
John  xvi.  7.  He  is  gone  indeed,  as  was  ne- 
cessary, but,  being  ascended,  he  caused  gifts 
to  descend  upon  men  :  So?ne  he  gave  to  he 
apostles,  some  prophets,  and  some  erarigelists, 
and  pastors,  and  some  teachers  ;  all  for  the 
work  of  the  ministry,  and  that  _/or  the  perfect- 
ins  of  the  saints,  and  the  edifying  of  his  body, 
Eph.  iv.  11,  12. 

'I'hus,  then,  God  treats  with  man  in  a  hu- 
man way.  He  draws  nol  his  own  to  him  by 
immediate  revelations,  nor  rejects  he  the  rest 
by  express  words  from  heaven  ;  but,  while 
he  sends  his  ambassadors  indifferently  to  both, 
he  works  differently  in  them.  And  the  ad- 
mirable variety  of  effects  of  the  same  message, 
after  the  same  manner,  and  at  the  same  rime 
delivered,  do  not  a  little  set  forth  and  com- 
mend   that    same    [ToXuirpiViXof   aofia   tov  Btilu], 

manifold  u-isdom  of  God  (Eph.  iii.  10)  :  that 
his  word  should  sweetly  melt  the  hearts  of 
some,  and,  as  it  were,  more  violently  break 
the  hearts  of  others  ;  that  it  should  harden 
and  blind  some,  mollify  and  enlighten  others  ; 
that  it  should  convince  those  whom  yet  it 
converts  not,  and  that  by  its  majesty,  though 
in  the  mouths  of  simple  men,  it  should  bridle 
and  restrain  many  of  all  ranks,  whom  it  re- 
news not :  mould"ing  and  framing  them  to  an 
external  conformity  and  square  carriage, 
■whereliy  the  world,  and  the  church  of  God  in 
it  especially,  are  much  advantaged.  And  the 
lustre  of  all  these  effects,  is  exceedingly  set 
off  by  the  quality  of  the  messengers,  being  to 
the  world's  eye  but  contem[)tible  men.  But 
had  it  not  been  more  congruous  to  the  gran- 
deur of  this  great  King,  to  have  sent  angels, 
his  ministering  spirits,  to  be  the  ministers  of 
the  word  ?  Had  he  not  better  have  used 
those  precious  vessels  for  his  chief  treasure, 
than  to  have  concredited  it  to  vessels  of  earth, 
not  to  say,  to  discredit  it  by  so  doing  ?  No, 
his  thoughts  are  not  as  ours;  yea,  they  are 
fsrthest  above  ours  when  they  seem  to  be 
farthest  below  them.  And  if  we  look  again, 
we  shall  find  it  more  glorious  to  have  con- 
quered so  many  kingdoms,  and  brought  them 
to  our  king,  the  Lord  Jesus,  by  the  preachmg 
of  a  few  fishermen,  and  sucb  like,  than  if  he 


had  done  it  by  those  active  spirits.  The 
meanness  of  the  means,  raises  exceedingly 
the  glory  of  the  sovereign's  cause. 

Thus  we  see  how  the  sending  of  men  in  this 
embassy,  was  requisite  for  the  frailty  of  man, 
and  how  well  it  suits  with  the  glory  of  God. 

Hence  may  be  deduced  sonie  necessary 
things  for  all  in  general,  something  in  par- 
ticular for  these  ambassadors,  and  something 
for  those  to  whom  they  are  sent. 

First,  it  may  persuade  all  to  entertain  more 
respectful  thoughts  of  this  function  than  most 
men  do.  Some  speak  out  their  disrespect ; 
others,  though  not  expressing  it  in  words, 
have  it  lurking  in  their  breasts,  and  appearing 
in  their  practices.  To  instance  in  one  error 
or  two,  which  many  labor  under,  springing 
evidently  from  a  low  esteem  of  this  calling. 

1.  Are  there  not  divers  pretenders  to  it,  who 
being,  and  possibly  finding  themselves,  in- 
sufficient for  all  other  employments,  have 
their  recourse  to  this,  making  no  doubt  of 
their  sufficiency  for  it  ?  Yea,  such  there  are, 
too  many  ;  their  worldly  friends  being  guilty 
either  of  begetting  in  them,  or  of  fomenting 
this  presumption.  On  the  other  side,  be  there 
not  others,  who,  having  some  advantage  of 
outward  rank,  or  inward  endowments,  would 
think  themselves,  and  be  thought  by  those 
who  have  interest  in  them,  to  be  exceedingly 
disparaged  if  this  calling  were  mentioned  to 
them,  and  who  would  count  it  a  great  abasing, 
yea,  a  losing  of  themselves  to  embrace  it? 
Against  these  two  gross  mistakes,  may  very 
appositely  be  opposed  this.  We  are  ambassa- 
dors for  Christ.  From  which  expression  it 
is  most  evident,  that  the  ministry  both  re- 
quires the  best  and  ablest,  and  deserves  them  ; 
that  the  refuse  aud  abjects  of  men  can  nol  be 
worthy  of  it,  nor  it  unworthy  of  the  choicest. 
It  requires  able  men,  because  they  are  to  be 
ambassadors  ;  and  this  will  follow  of  itself. 
Again,  consider,  whose  ambassadors,  and  in 
what  business:  the  ambassadors  of  the  King 
of  kings,  in  the  weighty  matter  of  treating 
peace  between  him  and  mankind.  Shall  it  be 
said  of  his  ambassadors,  as  Cato  said  to  those 
who  were  sent  by  the  Romans  to  Bitliynia 
counting  that  three  wants  were  among  them, 
viz.,  that  they  had  neither  feet,  nor  head,  nor 
heart  ? 

Lt  is  true  God  may,  and  sometimes,  esp  ;- 
cially  in  extraordinary  times,  does,  make  use 
of  unlettered  and  low-qualified  men  ;  but  then 
he  inlays  their  defects  by  a  singular  supply: 
therefore,  that  is  no  rule  for  us  in  the  ordinary 
vocation.  It  is  a  piece  of  God's  prerogative, 
to  use  unlikely  means  without  disadvantags. 
Anything  is  a  fit  instrument  in  his  hands  ;  ;t:l 
we  are  to  choose  the  fittest  and  best  means, 
both  in  our  own  affairs,  and  in  his  service  ; 
and  if  in  any,  this  eminent  service  of  embassy 
requires  a  special  choice.  If  bodily  integrity 
was  requisite  in  the  servers  at  the  altar  under 
the  law,  shall  we  think  that  the  mentally 
blind  and  lame  are  good  enough  for  the  min- 
istration under  the  gospel,  which  exceeds  in 


V.  20.] 


SERMON  TO  THE  CLERGY.* 


577 


worth  and  glory  ?  Who  is  svfficient  for  these 
things  ?  saitli  ihe  great  doctor  of  the  Gentiles. 
Our  practices  seem  to  answer,  anybody  :  And 
it  is  observable,  that  carelessness  in  this  kind, 
is  usually  the  companion  of  false  worship, 
and  too  much  care  of  decking,  trimming,  and 
making  gay  the  externals  of  it.  It  is  said  of 
Jeroboam,  that/ie  made  high  places,  hniprie'^ts 
of  the  lowest  of  the  penp/e,  1  Kings  xii.  31. 
As  it  was  said,  that  the  church  had.  As  he 
said  of  "  golden  cups  and  wooden  priests,"  so 
we  may  say  of  that  church  which  values 
ihem  so  much,  they  are  well  looked  to,  neatly 
adorned,  but  their  priests  grossly  ignorant. 

This  function  requires  able  men,  being  a 
weighty  charge,  and  is  worthy  of  them,  being 
highly  honorable.  And  doubtless,  there  is 
egregious  profanen ess  in  the  contrary  thoughts. 
The  heathen  can  style  those  stones  more  hap- 
py than  common  ones,  which  are  chosen  for 
the  building  of  temples  and  among  these, 
the  altar-stones  the  happiest.  A^nd  shall  we 
not  account  truly  happy  hose  living  stones, 
which  are  hewn  out  for  God's  building,  and 
chiefly  (so  to  speak),  the  altar-stones,  tiie 
messengers  of  peace  ^  What  can  be  more 
honorable  than  to  serve  the  highest  Lord  in 
the  chiefest  functions  of  his  house?  How 
ought  we  to  account  ofan  ambassador's  place, 
when  King  David  esteemed  so  highly  a  door- 
keeper's office  in  this  king's  court! 

2.  We  arc  ambassadors.    This  may  correct 
another  error  in  the  world,  though  accounted 
by  those  tliat  entertain  it,  a  ch(jice  piece  of 
policy  for  God.    It  is  this  :  the  ministry  being 
so  mean  a  thing  in  the  world's  eye,  and  so 
obnoxious  lo  contempt,  it  is  expedient  that  it 
be  raised  and  brought  into  credit  by  annexed 
excessive  dignities,  high  titles  of  honor,  and 
suitable  revenues.    It  is  true,  that  penury  and 
want  of  competency  in  temporals,  in  those 
who  bring  an  eternal  treasure,  argues  base  ' 
ingratitude,  and  is  most  unworthy  of  well-  [ 
constituted  churches.    But  where  the  remedy 
exceeds  too  far,  it  becomes  worse  than  the 
disease,  being  compounded  of  carnal  prudence 
and  ambition,  both  of  which  are  enmity  to 
God.    And  this  I  take  to  have  been  one  of 
Germany's  provoking  sins,  and  Rome's  pre-  | 
dominant  sin.    For  these  incongruous  honors, 
to  speak  it  in  a  word,  raising  some  from  con- 
tempt, teach  thern  to  contemn  and  insult  over 
their  brethren  ;  lo  say  nothing  )f  their  alTront- 
ng  of  higher  quality,  yea,  of  princes  and  ' 
kings  themselves,  while  they  pretend  to  be  i 
the  only  supporters  of  their  crowns.    And  if  ' 
this  their  insolericy  in  advancement,  devolve  \ 
thern  back  again  in  contempt,  and  their  honor 
become  iheir  shame,  they  may  thank  ihem- 
eeives.    Their  Master  taught  then  another 
method  of  attaining  due  esteem.    He  hath  [ 
given  honor  enough  to  those  whom  he  hath 
made  his  ambassadors;  and  if  men  contemn  j 
this,  he  lakes  the  indignity  as  done  lo  him- 
self, and  he  is  able  enough  to  vindicate  his 
own  honor.    Let  men  esteem  of  us,  as  the 
mmiscers  of  Christ,  1  Cor.  iv.  L    Here  is  all 
73 


the  esteem  St.  Paul  requires  ;  and  they  are 
unworthy  of  this  who  are  not  content  with  it. 
Their  best  way,  whom  God  employs,  is  to 
study  his  glorv,  and  he  will  not  iail  to  honor 
those  that  honor  him. 

And  this  leads  me  fitly  on  from  the  convic- 
tion of  these  common  errors,  to  a  word  of  par- 
ticular exhortation  to  those  ambassadors,  from 
the  nature  of  their  calling  so  expressed.  And 
it  binds  upon  them  chiefly  these  four  duties: 
1.  Piety.  2.  Prudence.  3.  Fidelity.  4.  Mag- 
nanimity. 

Piety,  in  two  steps  or  degrees  :  first,  to  look 
they  be  friends  with  God  ;  secondly,  to  labor 
to  be  inward  with  him. 

[L]  They  are  to  look  that  they  be  friends 
with  God.    For  it  no  way  suits  that  they  be 
'  ambassadors  for  reconciliation,  who  are  not 
I  ihemselves  reconciled  :  it  is  certain  such  will 
;  move  both  coldly  and  successlessly  in  the 
'  work.    What  he  can  do  extraordinarily  who 
doih  always  what  he  wills  in  heaven  and 
earih,  we  question  not.    He  can  convey  grace 
by  those  to  whom  he  gives  none.  He  can  cause 
them  to  carry  this  treasure,  and  have  no  share 
]  in  it  ;  carry  the  letter  and  not  know  what  is  in 
ii  ;  and  make  them,  so  to  speak,  equivocal 
causes  of  conversion. 

But,  usually,  he  converts  those  whom  he 
makes  the  happy  strengtheners  of  iheir  breth- 
j  ren,  l-uke  xxii.  32.  We  think,  that  they  who 
savingly  know  not  Christ,  should  not  be  fit  to 
make  other  men  acquainted  with  him.  He 
who  can  tell  men  what  God  hath  done  for  his 
soul,  is  the  likeliest  to  bring  their  souls  lo 
God.  Hardly  can  he  sjjeak  to  the  heart,  who 
S])eaks  not  from  it.  Si  vis  me  Jlcre,  &c.  Be- 
fore the  cock  crows  to  others,  he  claps  his 
wings,  and  rouses  up  himself.  How  can  a 
I'rozen-hearted  creature  warm  his  hearers' 
hearts,  and  enkindle  them  with  the  love  of 
'  God  ?  But  he  whom  the  love  of  Christ  con- 
I  strains,  his  lively  recommendations  of  Christ, 
and  speeches  of  love,  shall  sweetly  constrain 
others  to  love  him.  Above  all  loves,  it  is 
nidsl  true  of  this,  that  none  can  speak  sensi- 
bly of  it,  but  they  that  have  felt  it.  Our  most 
requisite  pulpit-orators,  yea,  speak  they  with 
the  tongues  of  men  and  angels,  without  the 
experience  of  this  love,  are  no  fit  ambassa- 
dors for  Christ,  lor  his  embassy  is  a  love- 
treaty.  Such  men  are  but  sounding  brass, 
and  tinkling  cymbals.  The  sublimest  and 
best  contrived  of  their  discourses,  glow-worm 
like,  are  as  those  foolish  fires,  may  have  some 
light  with  them,  heal  they  have  none.  When 
a  man  speaks  of  reconciliation  and  happiness, 
as  if  he  had  some  interest  therein  himself— 
when  his  words  are  animated  with  afl'eclion, 
as  he  is  like  to  beget  some  affection  where 
there  is  none — so,  a  pious  bearer  that  is  al- 
ready gained  to  Christ,  finds  the  embassy 
drawing  him  effectually  nearer  heaven,  blow- 
ing that  Divine  fire  that  is  within  him,  and 
causing  it  to  mount  upward.  As  in  water, 
fwe  answerelh  In  face,  so  doth  the  heart  of 
man  to  man,  saith  the  wise  man,  Prov.  xxvi'i. 


578 


SERMON  TO  THE  CLERGY. 


\2  CoK.  V.  20. 


IS.  There  is  a  certain  peculiar  sympathy 
and  sweet  correspondence  between  souls  that 
lodiie  the  same  spirit.  Those  that  are  united 
to  the  same  Head,  Christ,  by  reconciliation, 
find  their  hearts  agreed,  and  they  relish  ilie 
discourses  one  of  another.  Thus  iniimrtant 
is  it  every  way,  both  for  the  begetting  and 
for  the  strengthening  of  grace,  that  the  am- 
bassador thereof  be  a  reconciled  person. 

[2.]  As  he  must  look  that  he  be  friends 
with  God,  so,  secondly,  he  must  labor  also  to 
be  inward  with  God.  For  though  the  em- 
bassy be  the  same,  in  great  (lart,  in  the  mouths 
of  all  God's  ambassadors,  yet  there  is  a  world 
oT  mysterious  particulars  contained  in  it,  and 
'.hey  meet  with  many  intricate  pieces  in  their 
particular  treaties  with  men's  consciences. 
And  in  these,  know  they  the  will  of  the  King, 
their  master,  more  or  less  clearly,  according 
as  they  are  more  or  less  iriiimate  with  him. 
How  knew  divine  Moses  so  much  of  the 
Lord's  will,  but  by  much  converse  with 
him  ? 

These  ambassadors,  to  the  end  that  they 
may  do  so,  must  labor  for  integrity.  His  se- 
cet  is  with  the  righteous.  For  humility.  He 
is  familiar  indeed  with  the  lowly  ;  he  takes 
up  house  with  them  :  With  stich  a  one  will  I 
dwells  saith  the  Lord.  God's  choice  acquaint- 
ance are  humble  men.  For  the  spirit  of 
meekness.  He  whom  we  named  was  emi- 
nent in  this,  and  so,  in  familiarity  with  God. 
Christ  singularly  loves  the  meek  and  lowly, 
they  are  so  like  himself.  One  thing  they 
must  mainly  take  heed  of,  if  they  aspire  to  a 
holy  familiarity  with  God  :  earthly-minded- 
ness.  If  no  servant  of  the  god  of  mammon 
can  serve  this  God  in  point  of  common  ser- 
vice, how  much  less  can  he  be  fit  for  an  emi- 
nent employment,  as  an  embassy,  and  enjoy 
the  intimacy  requisite  for  that  employment  ! 
These  messengers  should  come  near  the  life 
of  angels,  always  beholding  the  face  of  the 
Father  of  lights.  But  if  their  alTections  be 
engaged  to  llie  world,  their  laces  will  still  bo 
that  way.  Fly  high  they  may,  sometimes,  in 
some  speculations  of  their  own  ;  but,  like  the 
eagle,  for  all  their  soaring,  their  eye  will  still 
be  upon  some  prey,  some  carrion  here  below. 
Upright,  meek,  humble,  and  heavenly  minds, 
then,  must  the  ambassadors  of  this  great  King 
have,  and  so  obtain  his  intimacy,  mounting 
Upon  those  wings  of  prayer  and  meditation, 
and  having  the  eve  of  faith  upward.  Thus 
shall  they  learn  more  of  his  choice  mysteries 
in  one  hour,  than  by  many  days'  poring  upon 
casuists  and  schoolmen,  and  such  like.  This 
ought  to  be  done,  I  confess  ;  but  above  all, 
the  other  must  not  be  omitted.  Their  chief 
study  should  be,  that  of  their  commission,  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  The  way  to  speak  skilfully 
from  God,  is,  often  to  hear  him  speak.  The 
Lord  God  hath  <;ivcn  me  the  tuns^ue  of  the 
learned,  saith  the  evangelic  prophet  (chiefly 
intending  Christ),  to  speak  a  word  in  season 
to  the  u-eary.  Ay,  that  is  the  learnedest 
tongue,  when  all  is  done.    But  how  ? — lie 


wakenelh  ?ne  morning  by  morning  ;  he  waken- 
eth  nunc  ear  to  hear  os  the  learned.   Isa.  1.  4. 

Thus  we  see  how  these  ambassadors  have 
need  to  be  friends,  and  intimate  friends  with 
their  Lord.  For  if  they  be  much  with  God  in 
the  mount,  their  returns  to  men  will  be  with 
brightness  in  their  faces,  and  the  law  in  ilieir 
hand  ;  their  lives  and  their  doc'.rines  shall  be 
heavenly. 

2.  The  second  requisite  of  these  ambassa- 
dors is  prudence,  or  dexterity  to  manage  their 
Master's  business.  Wise  ])rinces  and  states, 
in  choosing  their  ambassadors,  above  all  oth- 
er kinds  of  learning,  have  respect  to  practical 
abilities ;  and  they  that  can  best  read  the 
several  geniuses  and  dispositions  of  several 
nations  and  particular  men,  and  accordingly 
know  how  to  treat  with  every  one  according 
to  their  temper,  to  speak  to  them  in  their  own 
language,  are  judged  the  hiiest  men  for  that 
employment.    Great  is  the  diversity  of  hu- 

[  mors  among  men  :  some  are  timorous,  some 
rash,  some  avaricious,  some  ambitious,  some 
slow  and  leaden,  others  precipitant  and  mer- 
curial, and  many  other  varieties.  Now,  to 
know  how  to  deal  with  each  of  these  in  their 

j  own  kind,  for  the  advancement  of  his  Mas- 

j  ter's  business,  is  a  special  discretion  in  an  am- 
bassador. And  those  ambassadors  we  speak 
of,  had  as  much  need  ol'  n  as  any  :  they  have 
men  of  all,  both  outward  and  inward  differ- 
ences, to  deal  with,  and  the  same  men  so  dif- 
ferent from  themselv^  at  divers  times,  that 
they  are  hardly  the  same  ;  some  ignorant, 
others  learned,  sonje  weak,  others  strong, 
some  secure  with  false  presumptions,  others 
tormented  with  false  fears.  And  much  pru- 
dent consideration  of  those  differences,  and 
accommodating  themselves  thereunto  in  the 
matter  and  manner  of  their  discourses,  is  very 
expedient  in  their  treaties.  Of  some  have 
compassion,  plucking;  them  out  of  the  fire,  ma- 
king a  difference.  Jude  22.  What  other  is 
St.  Paul's  becoming  all  things  to  all  men,  that 
he  might  win  some  ?  1  Cor.  ix.  22.  And  this 
policy  is  far  different  from  temporizing,  and 
comi)liance  with  evil,  which  in  no  case  can 
be  tolerated  in  these  ambassadors,  for  that  is 
disadvantageous  to  their  business  :  it  may  be 
the  way  of  their  own  promotion,  but  it  is  not 
the  way  to  advance  their  Master's  kingdom, 
which  end  should  be  the  square  of  all  their  ■ 
contrivances,  and  with  it  notliing  will  suit  but 
what  is  upright.    A  kind  of  guile  they  may 

I  use,  but  it  must  carry  their  King's  impress; 

[  it  must  be  a  holy  guile  ;  and  such  the  minis- 
ters of  the  gospel  not  only  may,  but  ought  to 
study.  Fishers  of  men  they  are,  and  why 
may  they  not  use  certain  baits,  and  diversity 
of  them  ?  But  as  their  catching  is  not  de- 
structive, but  saving,  so  must  all  their  baits 
be.  They  must  quarter  dovelike  simplicity 
and  serpentine  wisdom  together,  as  he  com- 
manded them,  who  sent  them  on  this  em- 
bassy. 

3.  Their  third  duty  is  fidelity;  and  that 
,  both  in  the  matter  of  their  embassy,  and  in 


2  Cor.  v.  20.] 


SERMON  TO  THE  CLERGF. 


579 


the  manner  of  delivering  it.  In  the  matter  ! 
they  must  look  to  their  commission,  and  de- 
clare the  whole  counsel  of  God,  not  adding 
nor  abating  anything.  We  icnow  how  hei- 
nously kings  take  the  presumption  of  their 
ambassadors  in  this  kind  ;  though  reason  be 
pretended,  and  perhaps  justly,  yet  even  they 
account  obedience  better  than  sacrihce  ;  yea, 
some  of  them  have  been  so  precise  and  tender 
of  their  prerogative,  that  they  have  preferred 
a  damageable  affront  to  their  commands,  be- 
fore a  profitable  breach  of  them.  And  above 
all  kings,  this  King,  who  is  above  them  all, 
hath  good  reason  to  be  punctual  in  this ;  for 
princes'  instructions  may  be  imperfect,  and 
as  things  may  fall  out,  prejudicial  to  their 
purpose,  but  his  are  most  complete,  and  al- 
ways so  suitable  to  his  end,  that  they  can 
not  be  bettered.  The  matter,  then,  of  this 
embassy  is  unalterable  :  in  that,  these  ambas- 
sadors must  be  faithful.  Faithful,  also,  in 
the  manner  of  delivering  it ;  with  singleness 
and  diligence.  [1.]  With  simrlencss,  free 
from  by-respects,  not  seeking  their  own  hon- 
or or  advantage,  but  their  Master's  ;  abasing 
themselves  where  need  is,  that  he  may  be 
magnified  ;  never  hazarding  the  least  part  of 
his  rights  for  the  greatest  benefit  that  could 
accrue  to  themselves.  The  treachery  of  an 
ambassador  is  of  all  the  most  intolerable  ;  to 
deceive  under  trust.  If  any  who  bear  the 
name  of  God's  legates,  think  to  deceive  him, 
they  deceive  themselves.  He  can  not  be  i 
mocked.  They  must  all  appear  before  his 
judsrment-seat,  and  be  unveiled  before  men 
and  ;ingels.  Knowing,  therefore,  the  terrors  i 
of  ill"  Lnr/I,  let  them  go  about  his  work  with 
candor  and  singleness  of  heart.  And  [2| 
with  dill '^c. no:,  lie  that  is  diligent  in  hm 
work,  shall  slond  before  princes,  saith  the 
wise  prince,  I'rov.  xxii.  29.  The  great  Prince 
of  Peace  shall  admit  those  to  stand  eminently 
before  him  who  are  diliijent  in  his  embassy 
of  peace.  Such  are  ihey  who  make  it  iheir 
meat  and  their  drink,  as  Christ  himself  did, 
who  accept  all  occasions,  yea,  seek  and  make 
occasions,  to  treat  with  men  for  God.  That 
oracle-like  preaching  of  one  sermon  or  two  in 
a  year  is  far  from  this  sedulity  and  instancy' 
in  treating,  which  are  requisite  in  God's  am- : 
bassadors.  The  prince  of  darkness  hath  more  j 
industrious  agents  than  so  :  thev  cnmpnss  sea 
and  land  to  make  a  proselyte  ;  they  hold  to  it, 
and  are  content  to  lose  many  a  labor,  that 
some  one  may  prosper. 

And  this  may  meet  with  the  discontent 
that  some  ministers  take  at  their  great  pains 
and  little  success.    We  see,  Satan's  ministers 
can  comport  with  this.    Since  it  is  no  just 
exception  against  God's  work,  still  be  in  thy 
business,  and  refer  the  issue  to  thy  Master. 
Wait  on  God,  and  do  good,  saith  the  royal  [ 
psalmist.  Psalm  xxxvii.  .3.    f^nw  thy  seed  in  ' 
the  mo  mm    .  and  in  the  evenimr  withhold] 
not  thy  hand  ;  for  thou  knowest  not  which  will 
vrosper,  saith  the  wise  son,  Eccl.  xi.  6.  As 
he  moralist  speaks  of  benefits,  a  man  may  ; 


lose  many  words  amcng  the  people,  that 
some  one  may  not  be  losl.  I  am  all  thitigs  to 
all,  saith  the  apostle,  that  I  may  gain  some. 
1  Cor.  ix.  20.  And  though  in  continuing  dili- 
gent, thy  diligence  should  still  continue  fruit- 
less to  others,  to  thee  it  shall  not  be  so.  Thy 
God  is  a  discreet  Lord  :  as  he  hath  not  put 
events  into  thy  hand,  he  will  not  exact  them 
at  thy  hands.  Thou  art  to  be  accountable  for 
planting  and  watering,  but  not  for  the  in- 
crease. Be  not  wanting  in  thy  task,  and  thou 
shalt  not  want  thy  recompense.  Shouldst 
thou  be  forced  to  say  with  the  prophet,  I  have 
labored  in  vain,  and  speit  my  strength  for 
nauoht,  in  regard  of  succ  (ss,  yet.  if  thou  hast 
labored,  so  labored  as  to  spend  thy  strength 
in  that  service,  thou  must  add  with  him,  Yet 
surely  my  jud gment  is  ivil  h  the  Lord,  and  my 
work  with  my  God.  Isa.  xlix.  4. 

4.  The  last  duty  recommendable  to  these 
ambassadors  is  magnanimity,  which  is  no 
less  needlul  than  the  preceding.  Many  a  dif- 
ficulty and  discouragement  is  to  be  encoun- 
tered in  this  service  ;  and,  which  is  worse, 
some  temptations  of  prosperity  and  advance- 
ment. If  you  persist  to  ])lead  freely  for  your 
Master,  you  siiall  be  the  very  mark  of  the 
world's  enmity.  Wliat  mischief  is  there  that 
Christ  hath  not  foretold  his  disciples  to  ex- 
pect at  their  hands  ?  For  Christ  circumvents 
no  man  to  his  service  ;  he  tells  them  what 
they  shall  mee*  with  :  They  shall  prcsfcute 
you  through  their  courts,  ecclesiastical  and 
civil  ;  deliver  you  up  to  councils,  and  scourge 
you  in  their  synagogues,  and  accuse  before 
L'ot^ernors  and  kings  (Matt.  x.  17)  ;  yea,  they 
shall  think  they  do  God  good  service  when 
they  kill  you,  his  own  ainbassadors.  Many 
mountains  are  to  be  climbed  in  going  this  em- 
bassy, and  the  rage  of  many  a  tempest  to  be 
endured.  His  ammis  opus  est,  et  pectore  fir- 
mo.  Courage,  then,  ambassadors  of  the  Most 
High  !  See  if  you  can  rise  above  the  world, 
and  tread  upon  her  frownings  with  the  one 
foot,  and  her  deceitful  smilings  with  the  oth- 
er. Slinrht  her  proflers,  and  contemn  like- 
wise her  contempts.  There  is  honor  enough 
in  the  emjiloyment,  to  cause  you  to  answer 
all  oppositions  with  disdain.  Let  it  be  as 
impossible  to  turn  you  aside  from  your  integ- 
rity, as  the  sun  from  its  course.  For  that  mes- 
sa^je  which  vou  carry  shall  be  glorious  in  the 
end  :  it  shall  conquer  all  opposite  powers. 
When  you  seem  exposed  in  your  voyage  to 
the  fury  of  winds  and  waves,  remember  what 
you  carry.  Cirsaremvehis,  et  foriunam  ejus . 
as  he  said  ;  it  can  not  suffer  shipwreck.  Let 
no  sufferings  dismay  you.  For  a  generous 
ambassador  will  always  account  it  far  more 
honorable  to  suffer  the  worst  things  for  doing 
the  best  service  he  can  to  his  master,  than  to 
enjoy  the  world's  best  rewards  for  the  least 
point  of  disloyalty.  And  if  ever  Master  was 
worthy  the  suffering  for,  yours  is.  Happy 
are  you  when  they  persecute  you  for  his  sake, 
as  himself  hath  told,  Matthew  v.  10.  There 
are  honorable  examples  to  look  back  to — S» 


S80 


SERMON  TO  THE  CLERGY. 


[2  Cor.  v.  20 


pemrcvtcti  they  the  prophets  ;  and  a  precious 
rocoiiipense  to  look  forward  io— Ureal  is 
your  reward  tn  heathen. 

Our  blessed  Redeemer  refused  no  hardships 
for  the  working  out  of  this  peace,  which  is 
your  embassy.  He  knew  what  entertainment 
did  abide  him  in  the  world,  what  contempts 
Would  be  put  upon  him  by  mankind  whom 
he  came  to  redeem  ;  he  knew  of  the  full  cup 
t>t'  his  Father's  wratli,  that  he  was  to  drink 
for  them  ;  yet  resolution  arisinj^  from  love, 
climbed  over  all  these  mountains,  and  hap- 
pily conquering  ail  those  difliculties,  attained 
the  desired  end.  Worthy  ambassadors,  fol- 
low this  generous  Leader  in  promulgating 
the  peace  he  hath  purchased.  Tread  his 
steps  who  endured  the  cross  and  despised  the 
shame,  and  your  journey 's  end  shall  be  suita- 
ble to  his  who  is  set  down  at  the  right  hand 
of  the  Father.  Heb.  xii.  2.  Well  did  St.  Paul 
study  this  copy  when  he  said,  ]  know  that 
bonds  abide  me  everywhere  ;  Imt  J  care  for 
none  of  these  things,  so  that  I  may  finish 
my  course  icith  joy.  Acts  xx.  24.  The  look- 
ing over  to  that  great  end,  is  the  great  means 
of  surmounting  tiie  hardest  things  that  inter- 
vene. The  eying  of  that  mucii,  will  make 
an  undaunted  ambassador.  And  that  this 
lesson  of  courage  is  very  pertinent  for  them, 
will  appear  by  Christ's  own  urging  it  upon 
the  first  legates  he  sent  out,  when  he  dwelt 
here  below  :  Fear  not,  saith  he,  t/iern  that 
can  kill  the  body,  &c..  Matt.  x.  28  ;  where, 
methinks,  he  propounds,  as  the  chief  incen- 
tive of  courage  to  these  ambassadors,  the 
joint  consideration  of  those  to  whom  they  are 
sent,  and  of  Him  who  sends  them.  For,  seri- 
ously considered,  it  must  needs  be  found  most 
incongruous,  that  ambassadors  of  God  should 
he  afraid  to  speak  to  men.  Fear  not  them  ; 
the  utmost  they  can  do,  reacheth  no  farther 
than  the  tabernacles  of  clay.  Nor  can  they 
touch  that  without  permission  :  not  a  hair  of 
their  head  falls  without  notice  of  tlieir  Mas- 
ter. But  suppose  the  highest,  let  them  kill 
the  body  ;  thither  goes  their  rage  and  no  far- 
ther. But  fear  Him  tcho  can  kill  both  the 
body  and  soul.  Fear  not,  but  fear.  As  this 
fear  hath  better  cause,  so  it  is  the  only  ex- 
pelling cause  of  the  other  fear.  Nothing  be- 
gets so  generous  and  undaunted  spirits  as  the 
fear  of  God  :  no  other  fear,  none  of  those  base 
ones  that  torment  worldly  men,  dare  claim 
room  where  that  fear  lodgeth.    The  only 


cause  of  these  legates'  fears  is  the  inconsider- 
ation  of  their  Master.  Would  they  remem- 
ber him  much,  it  would  ennoble  their  spirits 
to  encounter  the  hardest  evils  of  life,  ana 
dcatii  itself,  courageously  in  his  service.  Their 
reward  is  jireserved  for  tiiem,  and  tbey  for  it ; 
yea,  it  alone  puis  them  into  full  possession. 
For  their  Master,  beyond  all  kings,  haih  this 
privilege:  he  can  not  only  restore  life  lost  io 
his  service,  but,  for  a  life  subject  to  death, 
yea,  a  dying  life,  can  give  immortality,  and, 
for  their  sufferings,  light  and  momentary,  an 
eternal  weight  of  glory.  Let  them  be  im- 
poverished in  his  service,  it  is  the  best  bar- 
gain in  the  world  to  lose  all  for  him.  Let 
them  be  scourged  and  stigmatized,  for  the  ig- 
nominy of  these  sufferings,  the  spirit  of  glory 
shall  rest  upon  them.  If  that  Persian  ])'ince 
could  so  prize  his  Zopyrus,  who  wa,s  man^  «d 
for  his  service,  how  much  more  will  thisLoiu 
esteem  those  who  suffer  so  for  him  I  He  is 
the  tenderest  King  over  his  servants  in  the 
world.  Those  who  touch  them,  touch  the 
apple  of  his  eye.  Let  his  messengers,  then, 
despise  the  worst  the  world  can  do  against 
them  ;  yea,  let  them  say  of  death,  as  he  said 
of  it  to  his  adversaries,  Anytus  and  Melitus, 
Kill  me  they  may,  but  they  can  not  hurt  me. 

The  lessons  to  those  to  whom  these  am- 
bassadors are  sent,  are  :  1st.  Do  not  dishonor 
them.  Remember  David  and  the  king  of 
Ammon.  No  king  resents  this  so  much  as 
God  :  He  that  de.ipiseth  you,  despiseth  me. 

2dly.  Slight  not  their  message :  know 
whence  it  comes.  This  not  discerning  of 
holy  things,  is  the  pest  of  Christians.  The 
apostle  specifieth  it  in  the  Lord's  body,  1  Cor. 
xi.  29  :  it  is  so  in  the  Lord's  word.  He  con- 
descends, in  using  earthern  creatures,  to  ex- 
plain the  choicest  of  heavenly  mysteries,  and 
earthern  vessels  to  convey  these  treasures. 
And  if  that  which  he  intended  for  their  ad- 
vantage, the  wretched  sons  of  men  make  it  a 
stumbling-block,  and  if  they  contemn  the 
grace,  for  the  meanness  of  the  persons  that 
are  made  conveyors  and  instruments  of  it, 
what  may  they  expect  ? 

3dly.  Respect  even  the  ambassadors  for 
his  sake  whom  they  represent,  counting  them 
worthy  of  double  honor.  For  this  is  the  will 
of  your  Lord  and  their  Lord,  your  King  and 
their  King.  And  to  this  King  immortal,  be 
all  honor,  and  glory,  and  praise,  by  all  the 
churches,  world  without  end.  Amei 


EXPOSITIONS. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


1  Tim.  iii.  9. 

Holding  the  mystery  of  faith  in  a  pure  conscience. 

That  which  was  the  apostle's  practice,  as 
ne  expresses  it,  1  Cor.  ix.  22,  is  the  standing 
duty  of  all  the  ministers  of  the  same  gospel ; 
To  the  weak  to  become  as  weak,  to  gain  the 
weak,  and  all  things  to  all  men,  that  if  hy  any 
means  they  may  save  some.  And  truly,  one 
main  part  of  the  observance  of  that  rule,  is, 
in  descending  to  the  instruction  of  the  most 
ignorant  in  the  principles  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion. What  I  aim  at,  at  this  time,  is,  a 
very  brief  and  plain  exposition  of  the  articles 
of  our  faith  as  we  have  them  in  that  summa- 
ry confession  ;  not  staying  you  at  all  on  the  j 
antiquity  and  authority  of  it,  both  of  which 
are  confessed.  Whether  it  was  penned  by  the 
apostles,  or  by  others  in  their  time,  or  soon 
after  it,  it  doih  very  clearly  and  briefly  contain 
the  main  of  their  divine  doctrine. 

But  though  it  be  altogether  consonant  with 
the  Scriptures,  yet,  not  being  a  part  of  the  | 
canon  of  thern,  I  choose  these  words  as  per-  j 
tinent  to  our  intended  explication  of  it.  They 
are,  indeed,  here,  as  they  stand  in  the  con- 
text, a  rule  for  deacotis  ;  hut  without  ques- 
tion, taken  in  general,  they  express  tlie  great 
duly  of  all  who  are  Christians,  to  keep  the 
mystery  of  faiih,  in  a  pure  conscience. 

You  see  clearly  in  them  a  rich  jelvel,  and 
a  precious  cabinet  fit  for  it ;  thr.  mi/stery  of 
faith  laid  up  and  kept  in  a  pure  conscience. 
And  these  two  are  not  only  suitable  but  in- 
separable, as  we  see  in  the  first  chapter  of 
this  epistle,  ver.  10:  they  are  preserved  and 
lost  together,  ihey  suffer  the  same  shi[)wreck  ; 
the  casting  away  of  the  one,  is  the  ship- 
wreck of  the  other:  if  the  one  perish,  the 
other  can  not  escape.  Every  believer  is  the 
temple  of  God  :  and  as  the  tables  of  the  law 
were  kept  in  the  ark,  this  pure  conscience  is 
the  ark  that  htilds  the  mystery  of  faith.  You 
think  you  are  believers,  you  do  "not  question 
that,  and  would  take  it  ill  that  others  should. 
It  is  very  hard  to  convince  men  of  unbelief, 
directly  and  in  itself.  But  if  you  do  believe 
this  truth,  that  the  only  receptacle  of  savincr 
faith, is, a  purified  conscience,  then,  I  beseech 
you,  question  yourselves  concerning  ihul:  be- 
ing tiuly  answered  in  it,  it  will  resolve  you 
touching  your  faith,  which  you  are  so  loath 
to  question  in  itself  Are  your  consciences 
pure  ?  Have  you  a  living  hatred  and  antipathy 


against  all  impurity?  Then,  surely,  faitn  is 
there  ;  for  it  is  the  pecvMar  virtue  of  faith  to 
purify  the  heart  (Acts  xv.  9;,  and  the  hear* 
so  purified,  is  the  proper  residence  of  faith, 
where  it  dwells  and  rests  as  in  its  natural 
place.  But  have  you  consciences  that  can 
lodge  pride,  and  lust,  and  malice,  and  cove- 
tousness,  and  such  like  pollutions?  Then, 
be  no  more  so  impudent  as  to  say,  you  be- 
lieve, nor  deceive  yourselves  so  far  as  to  think 
you  do.  The  blood  of  Christ  never  speaks 
peace  to  any  conscience  hut  the  same  that  it 
purifies  from  dead  works  to  serf"  the  living 
God.  Heb.  ix,  13,  14.  As  that  blocAi  .s  a  'sac- 
rifice to  appease  God's  wrath,  so,  it  is  a  laver 
to  wash  our  souls  ;  and,  to  serve  both  ends,  it 
is  as  was  the  blood  of  legal  sacrifices,  both 
offered  up  to  God  and  sprinkled  upon  us,  as 
both  are  expressed  in  the  apostle's  words 
there.  Do  not  think  that  God  will  throw 
this  jewel  of  faith  into  a  sly  or  kennel,  a  con- 
science full  of  defilement  and  uncleanness. 
Therefore,  if  you  have  any  mind  to  these 
comforts  and  the  peace  that  faith  brings  along 
with  it,  be  careful  to  lodge  it  where  it  de- 
liirhts  to  dwell,  in  a  pure  conscience.  Not- 
withstanding the  unbelieving  world  mocks 
the  name  of  purily,  yet,  study  you,  above  all, 
that  {lurity  and  holiness  which  may  make 
your  souls  a  fit  abode  for  faith,  and  for  that 
peace  which  it  worketh,  and  for  that  Holy 
S[)irit  who  works  both  in  you. 

Faith  is  either  the  doctrine  which  we  be- 
lieve, or  that  grace  by  which  we  believe  that 
doctrine.  Here,  I  conceive,  it  is  both,  met 
and  united  in  the  soul.  As  they  say  of  the 
understanding  in  the  schools,  Intelti gendo  fit 
illud  i/uod  intelligit,  so,  faith,  apprehending 
its  proper  object,  is  made  one  with  it.  Faith 
is  kept  in  n  pure  conscience  ;  that  is,  both 
that  pure  dcjctrine  of  the  gospel  which  faith 
receives,  and  that  fiith  which  receives  it,  are 
together  fitly  jilaced  and  preserved,  when 
they  are  laid  u[)  in  a  pure  conscience.  The 
doctrine  of  f'aitli  can  not  be  received  into,  nor 
laid  up  in  the  soul,  but  by  that  faith  which 
believes  it,  and  tliat  faith  hath  no  being, 
without  believing  that  doctrine.  And  both 
are  fitly  called  the  mystery  of  faith.  'J'he 
doctrine  is  mysterious,  and  it  is  a  mysterious 
work,  to  beget  faith  in  the  heart  to  receive  it. 
For  the  things  we  must  believe,  are  very  high 
and  heavenly,  and  our  hearts  are  earthly  and 
base  till  the  spirit  renew  them.    In  our  con- 


582 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


fession  of  tailh  we  have  boili  expressed.  The 
fii>l  wortl,  is  a  i)r()ri'ssit)n  of  f'ailh,  wliioli  re- 
ceives ihe  doctrine  as  true,  7  hclit  vr  :  and  ihe 
articles  themselves  contain  the  sum  oi"  the 
doctrine  believed.  And  if  we  who  profess 
this  faith,  have  within  us  pure  CDitsciciin .-i, 
wherein  llif  nn/sleri/  of  fuith — the  doctrine  of 
faith  believed,  and  the  ^race  of  faith  heliev- 
ini;  it,  both  to<^elher  as  one — may  reside, 
dwell,  and  be  preserved,  then  is  the  text  com- 
pletely answered  in  the  present  subject. 

Remember,  then,  since  we  profess  this 
faith,  which  is  the  proper  seat  of  faith.  Not 
our  books,  our  tongues  only,  or  memories,  or 
judgment,  but  our  conscience  :  and  not  our 
natural  conscience  detiled  and  stufiVd  with 
sin,  but  renewed  and  sanctilieJ  bv  grace. 
Holding  the  mystery  of  faith  in  a  pure  con- 
sci-ence. 

I  believe  in  God  the  Father  : 

Not  to  uisist  here  on  the  nature  of  faith, 
taking  it  as  comprehensively  as  we  can,  it  is 
Do  other  than  a  supernatural  belief  of  God, 
and  confidence  in  him.  Whether  we  call 
God,  or  the  word  of  God,  the  object  of  faith, 
there  is  no  material  difference  ;  for  it  is  God 
in  the  word,  as  revealed  by  the  word,  that  is 
that  object.  God  is  that  veritn.t  i/irompfexa 
(as  they  speak)  which  faith  embraces;  and 
the  word,  the  Veritas  coniplcra  which  contains 
what  we  are  to  conceive  of  God.  and  to  be- 
lieve concerning  him.  As  in  the  gospel,  the 
peculiar  object  of  that  faith  which  saves  fallen 
man,  it  is  all  one  whether  we  say  it  is  Christ 
or  the  promises  ;  for  it  is  Christ  revealed  and 
held  forth  in  the  promises,  that  faith  lays 
hold  on.  In  him  are  oil  thr  promises  of  God, 
yea,  and  in  him,  Amen.  2  Cor.  i.  20.  So  that 
It  is  all  one  act  of  faith  that  lays  hold  on 
Christ,  and  on  the  promises,  for  they  are  all 
one:  he  is  in  them,  and  therefore  faith  rests 
on  them,  because  they  include  Christ  who  is 
our  rest  and  our  peace  ;  as  a  man  at  once  re- 
ceives a  ring  and  the  precious  stone  that  is 
set  in  it.  This  once  rightly  understood,  any 
further  dispute  about  placing  faith  in  the  un- 
derstanding or  in  the  will,  is,  possibly,  in  it- 
self not  at  all  needful :  sure  I  am,  it  is  no  way 
useful  for  you.  Take  heed  of  carnal,  profane 
presumption,  for  that  will  undo  yon  :  and  la- 
bor to  be  sure  of  such  a  faith  as  dwells  in  a 
pure  conscience,  and  it  will  he  sure  not  to  de- 
ceive you. 

That  confidence  which  ttiis  expression 
bears,  believing  in  God,  supposes  certainly 
(as  all  agree),  aright  l)elief  concerning  God, 
both  that  he  is,  and  what  he  is,  according  as 
the  word  reveals  him  :  esjjecially  what  he  is 
relating  to  us.  These  three  we  have  togeth- 
er, Heb.  xi.  6.  He  that  cometh  to  God  must 
believe  that  God  is,  and  that  he  is  a  rewarder 
of  them  that  diligently  seek  him.  1.  That 
he  IS.  2.  To  trust  his  word,  believing  that 
he  is  true  to  his  promises,  a  reu-arder  of  them 
that  se>k  him.  3.  Upon  these  follows  com- 
mit/(/w,  which  is  this  believing  in  that 
God  which  the  apostle  speaks  of,  that  reli- 


j  ance  and  resting  of  the  soul  upon  htm,  which 
result.-*  fnim  that  right  belief  concerning  hiia 
and  trusting  the  testimony  of  his  word,  as  it 
reTcnls  him. 

We  have  discoursed  of  the  attributes  of 
God  elsewhere,  as  also  of  the  Trinity,  which 
is  here  expressed  in  these  words:  1  believe 
in  God  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost.    That  sul)lime  mystery  is  to  be  cau- 
tiously treated  of,  and  rather  humbly  to  be 
admired,  than  curiously  dived  into.  The  day 
will  Come  (truly,  a  day,  for  here  we  arc  be- 
set with  the  gloomy  nightly  shades  of  igno- 
rance), wherein  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is. 
1  John  iii.  2.    In  the  meantime,  let  us  de- 
voutly worship  him,  as  he  has  revealed 'hini- 
I  self  to  us ;  for  this  is  the  true  way  to  that 
heavenly  country  where  we  shall  se3  him 
'  face  to  face.    And  it  is  our  interest  here  to 
I  believe  the  Trinity  of  persons  in  the  Unity 
I  of  the  Godhead,  and  to  trust  in  them  as  such  : 
I  for  this  is  the  spring  of  all  our  hope,  that  the 
j  Middle  of  the  TuiiEE  became  our  Mediator, 
and  the  Holy  Sjiirit  our  guide  and  teacher, 
and  the  Father  reconciles  us  to  himself  by 
the  Son,  and  renev>'s  us  by  the  Spirit. 

The  Father.]  First,  the  Father  of  his  only 
begotten  Son,  Christ,  and  through  him,  our 
Father  by  the  grace  of  ado()tion.  And  so 
Christ  does  clearly  insinuate  the  order  of 
our  filiation :  I  ascend  to  my  Father  and 
your  Father,  my  God  and  your  God.  He 
says  not,  to  our  Father,  but,  to  my  Father  and 
your  Father;  first  mine,  and  then  yours 
through  tne. 

j  Almighty.']  This  also  belongs  to  the  at- 
■  tributes  of  God  ;  so  we  shall  be  but  short  orv 
it  here.  Almighty,  able  in  himself  to  do  all 
things,  and  the  source  of  all  jiower  in  others, 
all  the  power  in  the  creature  being  derived 
from  him  ;  so  that  it  can  not  altogether  equal 
his,  nor  resist  him,  no,  nor  at  all  be  without 
him.  Whosoever  they  be  who  boast  in  their 
own  stretigth  in  any  kind,  and  swell  highest 
in  conceit  of  it,  they  are  yet  but  as  brittle 
glass  in  the  hand  of  God  :  he  can  not  only 
break  it  to  pieces  by  the  strength  of  his  hand, 
but  if  he  do  but  withdraw  his  hand  from  sup- 
porting it,  it  will  fall  and  break  of  itself. 

Maker  of  heaven  and  earth.]  The  Son 
and  the  Spirit  were,  with  the  Father,  authors 
of  the  creation  :  but  it  is  ascribed  to  the  Fa- 
ther, particularly  in  regard  of  the  order  and 
manner  of  their  working.  Whether  natural 
reason  may  evince  the  creation  of  the  world, 
we  will  not  dispute  ;  we  know  that  he  who 
had  very  much  of  that,  and  who  is  the  great 
;  master  of  it  in  the  schools,  could  not  see  it 
'  by  that  light.  Yet  there  is  enough  in  reason 
I  to  answer  all  the  false  cavils  of  profane  men, 
and  very  much  to  justify  the  truth  of  this 
we  believe.  However,  we  must  endeavor  to 
believe  it  by  Divine  faith,  according  to  that 
of  the  apostle,  Hel).  xi.  3.  By  faith  ice  be- 
lieve that  Ihe  worlds  ii'ere  framed  by  the  word 
of  God.  And  this  is  the  first  article  we  meet 
withal  in  the  Scriptures,  and  our  faith  is  put 


EXPOSITION  OF  TIIE  CREED. 


585 


to  il  in  a  rery  high  point  in  the  very  en- 
trance, Gen.  i.  1.  In  the  egmning  God 
made  the  heaven  and  the  earth  : — speaking 
like  himself ;  it  is  not  proved  by  demonstra- 
tions, or  any  kind  of  arguments,  but  is  as- 
serted by  the  authority  of  God.  And  with 
that  which  begins  the  books  of  the  law, 
John  begms  liis  gospel  ;  that  upon  his  word 
who,  by  his  word,  made  the  world,  we  may 
believe  that  he  did  so.  This  is  filly  added  to 
the  title  of  Almighty,  as  a  work  of  almighty 
power,  and  therefore  a  clear  testimony  of 
it  ;  and  both  together  well  suit  with  our  pro- 
fession ol'  believing  m  him.  For  this  is  a 
main  support  of  our  faith,  to  be  persuaded 
of  his  power  on  whom  we  trust.  Our  God 
is  able  to  deliver  us,  said  they,  Dan.  iii.  17. 
And  Abraham,  the  apostle  says,  offered  up 
hts  son,  accounting  (or  reasoning  with  him- 
self, or  laying  his  reckonins)  that  God  was 
ahle  to  raise  him  from  the  dead,  Heb.  xi.  19. 

We  make  more  bold  to  speak  out  our  own 
questioning  of  the  love  and  good-will  of 
G-od,  because  we  think  we  have  some  reason 
in  that  from  our  own  unworthiiiess  ;  but  if 
we  would  sound  our  own  hearts,  we  should 
ofien  find  in  our  distrust  some  secret  doubl- 
ings of  (lod's  poiuer,  Psalm  Ixxviii.  19.  Can 
God  prepare  a  table  in  the  wilderness  ?  said 
they ;  though  accustomed  to  miracles,  yet 
still  unbelieving.  We  think  we  are  strongly 
enough  persuaded  of  this,  but  our  hearts  de- 
ceive us.  (^i/CE  scimus  cum  necesse  non  est, 
ea  in  necessitate  nescimus,  says  Bernard : 
The  things  which  we  seem  to  know  when  it 
is  not  necessary  for  us  to  know  them,  we 
find,  when  necessary,  that  we  know  not. 
The  heart  is  deceitful,  Jer.  xvii.  9 — where  he 
is  speaking  of  trusting.  It  is  not  for  nothing, 
that  God  by  his  prophets  so  often  inculcates 
this  doctrine  of  his  power,  and  this  great  in- 
stance of  it,  the  creation,  when  he  promises 
great  deliverances  to  his  church,  and  the  de- 
struction of  their  enemies.  See  Isa.  xlv.  12, 
and  li.  12.  What  can  be  loo  hard  for  him, 
who  found  it  not  too  hard  to  make  a  world 
of  nothing  ?  If  thou  look  on  the  i)ublic,  the 
enemies  of  the  churcii  are  sirong  :  if  on  thy- 
self, thou  hast  indeed  strong  corruptions 
within,  and  sirong  temptations  wiliiout :  yet, 
none  of  these  are  almigiity,  as  thy  God  is. 
What  is  it  thou  wouldst  have  done,  that  he 
can  not  do  if  lie  think  fit?  And  if  he  think 
it  not  lit,  if  ihou  art  one  of  his  children,  thou 
wilt  think  with  him;  thou  wilt  reverence  his 
wisdom,  and  rest  satisfied  with  his  will. 
This  is  believing  indeed;  ihe  rollinij  all  our 
desires  and  burdens  over  upon  an  almi<;hiy 
God,  and  where  this  is,  it  can  not  ch(  'se  but 
establish  the  lH!ari  in  the  midst  of  ti  /ubles, 
and  give  it  a  calm  wiihin  in  the  mid*  of  the 
greatest  storms. 

And  try  wiiat  other  confidences  you  will, 
they  shall  prove  vain  and  lynig  in  the  day  of 
trouble.  He  that  thinks  to  quiet  his  mind 
and  find  rest  by  worldly  comfort,  is,  as  isolo- 
inon  compares  his  d'unkard,  like  one  that 


]  lieth  down  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  or,  that 
1  sleepeth  on  the  top  of  a  mast,  Prov.  xxiii.  34 
j  he  can  have  but  unsettled  rest  and  repose 
I  that  lies  there.    But  he  that  trusteth  in  the 
Lord ,  IS  as  JMovnt  Si07i  that  can  not  be  re- 
;  moved.  Psalm  cxxv.  1.    When  we  lean  upon 
;  other  props  beside  God,  they  prove  broken 
reeds,  that  not  only  fail,  but  pierce  the  hand 
that  leans  on  them.  Jer.  xvii.  7. 

There  is  yet  another  thing  in  this  article, 
which  serves  further  to  uphold  our  faith,  that 
!  of  necessity.    He  who  made  the  world  by  his 
power,  doth  likewise  rule  it  by  his  providence, 
j  It  is  so  great  a  fabric  as  can  not  be  upheld 
'  and  governed  by  any  less  power  than  that 
!  which  made  it.    He  did  not  frame  this  world 
as  the  carpenter  his  sh to  put  it  into  other 
hands  and  look  no  more  afier  it  :  but  as  he 
made  it,  so  he  is  the  continual  pilot  of  it,  sits 
still  at  the  helm,  and  guides  it ;  yea,  he 
commands  the  winds  and  seas,  and  they  obey 
him.    And  this  serves  much  for  the  comfort 
of  the  godly,  but  I  can  not  here  insist  on  it. 
And  in  Jesus  Christ.] 

The  two  great  works  of  God,  by  which  he 
is  known  to  us,  are  creation  and  redemption, 
which  is  a  new  or  second  creation.  The  Son 
of  God,  as  God,  was  with  the  Father,  as  the 
worker  of  the  former ;  but  as  God-man,  he  is 
the  author  of  the  latter.  St.  John  begins  his 
gospel  with  the  first,  and  from  that  passes  on 
10  tiie  second.    In  the  beginning  ivas  the 

\  Word — bi/  him  were  all  things  made.    But  at 

j  verse  14,  the  other  is  expressed :  The  Word 

J  was  made  flesh,  and  be  dwelt  among  us,  had 
a  tent  like  ours,  and  made  of  the  same  mate- 
rials. He  adds.  He  was  full  of  grace  and 
truth;  and  for  this  end  (as  there  follows), 
that  wc  might  all  receive  of  his  fulness,  grace 
for  grace.  And  this  is  that  great  work  of 
new  creation.  Therefore  the  prophet  Isaiah, 
foretelling  this  sreat  work  from  the  Lord's 
own  mouth,  speaks  of  it  in  these  terms,  ch. 
li.  16  :  That  I  may  plant  the  heavens  and  lay 
the  foundation  of  the  earth,  arid  say  unto  Sion, 
Thou  art  my  people.  That  tnaking  of  a  new 
people  to  himself' in  Christ,  is  as  the  framing 
of  heaven  and  earth.  Now  this  restoration 
by  Jesus  Christ,  supposes  the  ruin  and  mise- 
ry of  man  by  his  fall,  that  sin  and  death  un- 

'  der  which  he  is  born.  This  we  all  seem  to 
know,  and  acknowied<je,  and  well  we  may 

I  for  we  daily  feel  the  woful  fruits  of  that  bittei 
root  ;  but  the  truth  is,  the  greatest  part  of  uj 
are  not  fully  convinced,  and  therefore  do  no' 

\  consider  this  gulf  of  wretchedness  into  which 
we  are  fallen.  If  we  were,  there  would  b* 
more  cries  among  us  for  help  lo  be  drawn  out 
and  delivered  from  it :  this  great  Deliverer, 
this  Savior  would  be  of  more  use,  and  of  more 

1  esteem  with  us.  But  I  can  not  now  insist  on 
that  point. 

j  Only  consider,  that  this  makes  the  necessi- 
ty  of  a  Mediator.  The  disunion  and  distance 
which  sin  hath  made  between  (iod  and  man, 
can  not  he  made  up  but  by  a  Mediator,  one  to 
come  between;  so  that  there  is  now  no  be« 


5S4 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


licving  in  God  the  Father. but  by  this  l)idiev- 
inLr  ill  Jesus  his  Son  ;  no  appearin;;;  without 
liorror,  yea,  wiiboiu  perdition,  before  so  just 
a  Jiidire  iiiijiily  ollV'uded,  i)ut  by  the  inierven- 
lioii  ot'  so  powerful  a  Reconciler,  alile  to  satis- 
fy and  ai)i)ease  him.  And  he  tells  it  us  [liainly 
and  graciously,  iliai  we  mistake  notour  way, 
,Vw  iiKifi  co/neih  unto  the  Father  but  by  me, 
John  xiv.  6. 

Few  are  our  thoughts  concerning  God  and 
returning  to  him  :  but  if  we  have  any,  this  is 
our  uiihappiness,  that  naturally  we  are  sub- 
ject to  leave  out  Christ  in  them.  We  think 
there  is  somclliing  to  be  done  :  we  talk  of  re- 
pentance, ol' prayer,  and  of  ameiulment,  though 
we  have  not  these  neither.  But  if  we  had 
these,  there  is  yet  one  thing  necessary  above 
all  these,  which  we  forget  ;  there  is  absolute 
need  of  a  Mediator  to  make  our  peace,  and 
restore  us  into  favor  with  God,  one  who  must 
for  that  end  do  and  suffer  for  us  what  we  can 
neither  do  nor  suffer.  Though  we  could  shed 
rivers  of  tears,  they  can  not  wash  out  the 
stain  of  any  one  sin  ;  yea,  there  is  some  pol- 
lution in  our  very  tears,  so  that  they  them- 
selves have  need  to  be  washed  in  the  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

Jesus  Christ.]  Our  anointed  Savior,  anoint- 
ed to  be  our  King,  our  great  High  Priest,  and 
our  Prophet,  and  in  all  these,  our  Savior:  our 
prophet  to  teach  us  the  way  of  salvation,  our 
priest  to  purchase  it  for  us,  and  our  Amg  to 
lead  and  protect  us  in  the  way,  and  to  bring 
us  safe  to  the  end  of  it.  Thus  is  his  name 
full  of  sweetness  and  comfort,  Mel  in  ore,  m 
aurf.  me/os,  in  curdc  medicina,  as  Bernard 
S[)eaks:  Honey  in  the  mouth,  music  to  the 
car,  a  cordial  to  the  heart.  It  is  a  rich  oint- 
laetit,  and,  in  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  1771 
ointment  poured  forth  (Cant.  i.  3),  diffusing 
its  fragrant  smell,  for  which  the  virgins,  the 
chaste,  purified  souls  of  believers,  love  htm; 
such  as  have  their  senses  exercised,  as  the 
apostle  speaks  (Hebrews  v.  14),  their  spiritual 
smelling  not  obstructed  with  tlie  pollutions  of 
the  world,  but  quick  and  open  to  receive  and 
be  refreshed  with  the  smell  of  this  precious 
name  of  Jesus. 

His  only  .S'o«.]  Other  sons  he  hath,  angels 
and  men,  by  creation,  and  adoption,  but  this 
his  only  begotten  Son,  as  God,  by  eternal  and 
inefTable  generation,  and  as  man,  peculiarly 
the  Son  of  God,  both  in  regard  of  his  sinLjular 
unexampled  conception  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  by  that  i)ersonal  union  with  the  Deity 
which  accompanied  that  conceiition,  and  by 
that  fulness  of  all  grace  which  flowed  from 
that  union.  The  unfolding  of  these  would 
require  a  long  time,  and,  afier  all,  more 
would  remain  unsaid  and  uncoiiceived  by  u'  ; 
fur,  his  generation  who  can  declare  ?  Isaiah 
liii.  8 

Le'i  us  remember  this,  that  our  sonship  is 
the  product  of  his.  lie  is  the  only  begotten 
Son  of  God,  and  yet,  To  as  many  as  receive 
him,  he  gave  this  jirivilege,  to  be  the  sons  of 
God  John  i.  12  and  14. 


Our  Lord.]  Both  by  our  loyal  sufyeetion 
to  him,  and  our  peculiar  interest  in  him  : 
these  go  together.  Willing  subjection  and 
obedience  to  his  laws,  is  an  inseparable  com- 
panion, and  therefore  a  certain  evidence  of 
our  interest  in  his  grace. 

Conceived  by  the  Holy  Ghost.] 
This  is  that  great  mystery  of  godlinets, 
God  manifested  in  the  flesh;  the  King  cf 
Glory  after  a  manner  divesting  himself  of  his 
royal  robes,  and  truly  jiutting  on  the  form  of 
a  servant,  the  Holy  (ihost  framing  him  a 
body  in  the  Virgin's  womb.  Ts'ot  that  it  ^vaa 
impossible  to  have  made  his  human  na- 
ture sinless  in  the  ordinary  way  (though  tlie 
schools  usuallv  give  that  reason),  but  that  by 
that  miraculous  and  peculiar  manner  of  birth, 
he  might  be  declared  to  be  more  than  man,  as 
being  a  way  more  congruous  both  to  the  great- 
ness of  his  person  and  the  purity  of  his  human 

I  nature. 

lioTTi  of  the  Virgin  Mary.] 
He  was  not  only  of  the  same  nature  with 
man,  which  he  might  have  been  by  a  new- 
created  humanity,  but  of  the  same  stock,  and 
so,  a  fit  Savior,  a  near  kinsman,  as  tht  vord 
which  in  Hebrew  is  a  Redeemer,  doth  signi- 
fy :  bone  of  our  bone,  and  flesh  of  our  flesh. 
We  see,  then,  the  person  of  our  Mediator  is 

'  very  tit  for  that  his  office,  having  both  the 
natures  of  the  parties  at  variance  which  he 

\  was  to  reconcile.  And  this  happy  meeting  of 
God  and  man  in  the  person  of  Christ,  to  look 
no  further,  was  a  very  great  step  to  the  agree- 
ment, and  a  strong  pledge  of  its  accomplish- 
ment. To  see  the  nature  of  man  who  was  an 
enemy,  received  into  so  close  embraces  with 

1  the  Deity,  as  within  the  comjiass  of  one  per- 
son, promised  infallibly  a  reconcilement  of 
the  persons  of  men  unto  God.  There  the 
treaty  of  peace  began,  and  wiis  exceedingly 
promoted  by  that  very  beginning,  so  that,  in 
it,  there  was  a  sure  presage  of  the  success : 
it  was  indeed,  as  they  say  of  a  good  begin- 
ning, dimidium  facti,  half  done.  Had  God 
and  man  treated  anywhere  but  in  the  person 
of  Christ,  a  peace  had  never  been  concluded, 
yea,  it  had  broken  up  first ;  but  being  in  him, 
it  could  not  fail,  for  in  him  they  were  already 
one,  one  person,  so  there  they  could  not  but 
agree.  God  was  in  Christ,  reconciling  the 
world  to  himself.  2  Cor.  v.  19. 

Considering  the  work  to  be  done  in  this 
agreement,  as  well  as  the  persons  to  be 
agreed,  it  was  altogether  needful  that  the 
Undertaker  should  be  God  and  man,  Humana 
Diviiiitas  et  JJtvina  humamtas.  The  media- 
tion was  not  a  bare  matter  of  word,  but  there 
was  such  a  wrong  done  as  recjuired  a  satis- 
faction should  be  made.  We  speak  not  of 
what  God  might  absolutely  have  done,  but 
what  was  to  be  done  suitable  (o  God's  end, 
which  was  for  the  joint  glory  of  justice  and 
mercy,  tital  mercy  and  truth  might  meet,  and 
righleousness  anil  peace  kiss  each  other.  And 
because  the  party  offending  was  not  able  for 
it,  he  that  would  effectuall)  sue  liir  him,  niusi 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED 


likewise  satisfy  for  him.  And  this  Jesus 
Christ  did,  as  here  follows.  Now,  that  he 
might  do  this,  it  was  necessary  that  he  should 
be  God  able  to  save,  and  man  fit  to  save  man  : 
■man  that  he  might  suffer,  and  God  that  his 
sufferings  miglit  be  satisfying :  man  that  he 
might  die,  and  God  that  his  death  might  have 
value  to  purchase  life  to  us. 

The  Son  was  fit  to  be  incarnate  for  this 
Vfork,  the  Middle  Person  in  the  Godhead  to 
be  man's  mediator  with  God.  That  which 
we  had  lost,  was,  the  dignity  of  the  sons  of 
God,  and  therefore  his  only  Son  alone  was 
fit  to  restore  us  to  it.  The  beauty  defaced  in 
us  was,  the  image  of  God  ;  therefore  the  re- 
pairing and  reimparting  of  it  was  a  fit  work 
for  his  purest  and  most  perfect  image,  his  Son, 
the  character  of  his  person,  Heb.  i.  3. 

Now,  this  incarnation  of  the  Word,  the  Son 
of  God,  is  the  foundation  of  all  our  hopes  ; 
the  sense  of  that  great  promise,  7'Ae  seed  of 
the  woman  shall  bruise  the  serpenfs  head,  and 
of  many  others  of  the  same  substance  in  the 
prophets  :  the  great  salvation  so  ofien  foretold, 
and  so  long  expected  by  the  Jews.  When 
this  was  fulfilled,  that  a  virgin  did  conceive 
by  the  Holy  Ghost,  then  did  the  heavens  drop 
down  riirhleousness  from  above,  and  the  earth 
bring  forth  salvation.  Isa.  xlv.  8.  This  seems 
to  be  iliat  which  the  church  did  so  earnestly 
wish,  Oh,  that  thou  wert  as  my  brother  !  Cant, 
viii.  1. 

Suffered  under  Pontius  Pilate.] 

Though  all  his  life  was  one  continual  act 
of  suffering,  from  his  living  in  the  cratch  to 
his  hanging  on  tlie  cross,  yet,  because  of  the 
shortness  of  ihis  confession,  as  likewise  be- 
cause this  last  act  was  the  greatest,  and  most 
retnarkable  of  his  sufferings,  and  the  Scrip- 
ture itself  dolh,  as  such,  mention  it  most  fre- 
quently, therefore  it  is  here  immediately  sub- 
joined to  the  article  of  his  hinh. 

It  is  not  for  nothing  that  we  have  the  name 
of  tiie  Roman  judge  here  expressed,  under 
whom  he  suffered  :  ihou<;h  it  is  nothing  to  his 
credit,  yet  it  is  to  the  credit  of  Divine  wis- 
dom, even  this  ;  considering  the  nature  and 
end  of  Christ's  death,  it  being  to  satisfy  a  pro- 
nounced sentence  of  justice,  though  for  others, 
it  was  a  very  agreeable  circumstance,  tliat 
(le  should  not  be  suddenly  or  luinultuarily 
murdered,  but  be  judicially,  though  unjustly, 
condemned. 

Cru'i/icd.  I  Besides,  it  made  his  sufferings 
more  public  and  solemn  :  and  the  Divine  prov- 
idence ordered  this,  that  he  should  suffer  un- 
der a  Pioinan  judge,  and  so  fall  under  this 
Roman  kind  of  punishment,  being  in  itself  a 
Very  shameful  and  painful  kind  of  death,  and, 
by  the  sentence  of  the  law,  accursed,  that  we 
might  have  thi;  more  evidence  of  our  deliver-  j 
ance  from  that  shame,  and  pain,  and  curse, 
that  were  due  to  us.  The  chastisement  of  \ 
our  peace  was  upon  him,  says  the  proi)het, 
and  by  his  stripes  we  are  healed.  Isaiah 
liii.  5. 

Suffered.]    That  he  died  and  what  kind 
74 


of  death,  you  see,  is  expressed.  But  as  many 
particular  sulfermgs  of  his  body  are  not  here 
mentioned,  so  none  of  those  of  his  soul,  but 
all  are  comprehended  in  this  general  word, 
He  suffered.  Those  were  too  great  to  be 
duly  expressed  in  so  short  a  form,  and  there- 
j  lore  are  better  expressed  by  supposing  them, 
and  including  them  only,  in  this.  He  suffered. 
As  he  that  drew  the  father,  among  others,  be- 
holding the  sacrificing  of  his  own  daughter, 
'  signified  the  grief  of  the  rest  in  their  gestures, 
I  and  visages,  and  tears,  but  drew  the  father 
I  veiled  ;  so  here,  the  crucifying  and  death  of 
our  Savior  are  expressed,  but  tlie  unspeakable 
conflicts  of  his  soul  are  veiled  under  the  gen- 
eral term  of  suffering.  But  surely,  that  in- 
visible cup  which  came  from  his  Father's 
hand,  was  far  more  bitter  than  the  gall  and 
vinegar  from  the  hand  of  his  enemies  ;  the 
piercing  of  soul,  far  sharper  than  the 
nails  and  thorns.  He  could  answer  these 
sweetly  with.  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they 
know  not  ivhat  thei/  do.  But  those  other 
pangs  drew  from  him  another  kind  of  word, 
My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken 
me  ? 

Died.]  No  less  would  serve,  and  therefore 
he  was  obedient  even  unto  the  death,  as  the 
sentence  against  us  did  bear,  and  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  law  did  i)refigure.  When  the  sac- 
rifices drew  back  and  went  unwillingly  to  the 
place,  the  heathens  accounted  it  an  ill  pres. 
age.  Never  was  sacrifice  more  willing  lhau 
Christ.  /  lay  down  my  life  for  my  sheep, 
I  says  he,  and  no  man  takclh  it  from  me,  John 
I  X.  15,  18.  As  a  sheep  before  the  shearers  is 
I  dumb,  so  he  opened  not  his  mouth.  He  gave 
\  his  hack  to  the  siniters.  Isa.  liii.  7.  For  this 
hour  came  I  into  the  world,  John  xviii.  37.  And 
this  death  is  our  life  ;  though  by  it  we  are 
not  freed  from  this  temporal  death,  yet,  which 
is  infinitely  more,  we  are  delivered  from  eter- 
nal death,  and  which  is  yet  more,  entitled  to 
eternal  life  ;  and  therefore  do  no  more  sufl'er 
this  temporal  death  as  a  curse,  bui  enjoy  it  as 
a  blessing,  and  may  look  upon  it  now  (such 
as  are  in  Christ,  none  other)  not  only  as  a  day 
of  deliverance,  but  of  coronation,  the  exchange 
of  our  present  rags  for  long  white  robes,  and 
a  crown  that  fadeth  not  away. 

Buried.]  For  tlie  further  assurance  of  his 
death  and  glory  of  his  resurrection  ;  as  like- 
wise to  commend  the  grave  to  us,  as  now  a 
very  sweet  resting-place  ;  he  hath  warmed 
the  cold  bed  of  the  grave  to  a  Christian,  that 
he  needs  not  fear  to  lie  down  in  it,  nor  doubt 
that  he  shall  rise  again,  as  we  know,  and  are 
after  to  hear  that  he  did. 

Descended  into  hell.]  The  more  noise 
there  hath  been  about  this  clause,  I  shall 
make  the  less.  The  conceit  of  the  de- 
scent of  Christ's  soul  into  the  place  of  the 
damned,  to  say  no  more  nor  harder  of  it,  can 
never  be  nwde  the  necessary  sense  of  these 
Words:  nor  is  there  any  other  ground  in 
scripture,  or  any  due  end  of  such  a  descent, 
either  agreed  on,  or  at  all  allegeable,  to  per- 


586 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


suiulf  llic  clioosin!!  of  it  as  the  l)est  sense  of 
ilu'in.  i\\)t  to  coiitesi  other  interpretations, 
1  conceive,  with  suhrnission,  that  it  difl'ers 
not  nincii,  possihiy  noiliins,  from  the  plain 
word  ol  his  i)nrial.  Not  that  the  autltor  or 
authors  of  this  so  l)rief'  a  confession,  would 
express  one  thins  hy  divers  words,  hut  that, 
it  may  be,  in  ilu-  more  ancient  copies,  only 
the  one  of  them  hath  lieen  in  the  text,  and  in 
i&er  cojiies,  in  transcribers'  hands,  the  other 
ath  crept  into  it  out  of  the  margin.  But  re- 
taining it  by  all  means  as  it  is,  it  may  signi- 
fy the  abode  and  continuance  of  Christ's  body 
in  the  grave  ;  in  which  time  he  seems  to  have 
been  swallowed  up  of  death,  and  that  the  pit 
had  shut  her  mouth  on  him  ;  but  it  appeared 
quickly  otherwise,  for,  The  third  day  he 
arose  from  the  dead. 

RcH.  1.  Tliese  are  great  things  indeed 
which  are  spoken  concerning  Jesus  Christ, 
his  birth  and  sulfcrings  ;  but  the  greater  our 
unhappiness  if  we  have  no  portion  in  them. 
To  hear  of  them  only,  and  lo  enjoy  nothing 
of  them,  is  most  miserable  ;  and  thus  it  is 
dirough  our  unbelief  Were  it  as  common 
to  believe  in  him,  as  to  repeat  these  words, 
or  to  come  to  church  and  hear  this  gospel 
preached,  then  you  would  all  make  pretty 
good  plea  on  it.  But  believe  it,  it  is  anoth- 
vr  kind  of  thing  to  believe  thanall  that,  or  than 
any  thing  that,  the  most  of  us  yet  know.  My 
brethren,  do  not  deceive  yourselves.  That 
common  highway  faith  will  not  serve  ;  you 
are,  for  al'  that,  still  unbelievers  in  Christ's 
account  :  and  if  so,  for  all  the  riches  of  com- 
fort that  are  in  him,  you  can  receive  none 
from  him.  It  is  a  sad  word  that  he  says.  Be- 
cause ye  believe  not  in  me,  ye  shall  die  in  your 
s?/is.  John  viii.  21.  As  if  he  should  say. 
Though  I  died  for  sins,  not  mine  own,  but 
others,  yet,  you  remaining  in  ungodliness  and 
unbelief,  that  shall  do  you  no  good  ;  ye  shall 
die  in  your  sins  for  all  that.  It  is  such  a  faith 
as  endears  Christ  to  the  soul,  unites  it  to  him, 
fnakes  Christ  and  it  one,  that  makes  all  that 
is  his  to  become  ours.  Then,  we  shall  con- 
clude aright,  Christ  hath  suffered,  therefore  I 
shall  not.  As  he  said  to  them  who  came  to 
take  him,  Js  it  I  yon  seek  1  then  let  these  go 
free  ;  so,  to  the  law  and  the  justice  of  Ood, 
he  says,  seeing  you  have  sought  and  laid  hold 
on  me,  and  made  me  suffer,  let  these  go  free 
who  lay  hold  on  me  hy  faith  :  if  you  have 
anything  to  say  to  them,  I  am  to  answer  for 
them,  yea,  I  have  done  it  already. 

2.  You  that  believe  and  live  by  this  death, 
be  often  in  reviewing  i;  atid  meditating  on  ii, 
that  your  souls  may  be  ravished  with  the  ad- 
miration of  such  love,  and  warmed  with  a  re- 
flex love  to  him.  Mirn  Dei  darnitas,  mira 
indiemtas  nostra.  Other  wonders,  as  you 
say,  last  for  a  while,  but  this  is  a  lasting  won- 
der: not  to  the  ignorant — the  cause  of  won- 
der at  other  things  is  ignorance  indeed,  but 
this  is  an  everlasting  wonder  to  those  who 
know  it  best,  I'iz.,  to  the  very  angels.  Let 
♦-hat  loved  Jesus  be  fixed  in  your  hearts,  who 


was  for  you  nailed  to  the  cross :  Donee  totits 
Jiavs  in  corde,  qui  lotus  fixus  m  cruce.  St. 
Bernard  wonders  that  men  should  think  on 
anything  else:  Quanta,  msana;  post  tanti  Re- 
Siis  adrentum  n/iis  ne<>otJis  !  Surely  it  is 
great  folly,  to  think  and  esteem  much  of  any- 
iliing  here,  after  his  appearing:  the  sun  ari- 
sing drowns  all  the  stars.  And  withal,  he 
daily  crucifying  sin  in  yourselves,  be  avenged 
on  it  for  his  sake,  and  kill  it  because  it  killed 
him. 

3.  Will  you  think  anything  hard  to  do  or 
suifer  for  him,  who  undertook  and  performed 
to  the  full  so  much  for  you  ?  If  you  had  rath- 
er be  your  own  than  Christ's,  nmcli  good  do 
it  you  with  yourselves  ;  but  know  that  if  you 
are  not  Christ's,  but  your  own,  you  must  look 
for  as  little  of  him  to  be  yours.  If  ye  be  your 
own,  you  must  bear  all  your  own  sins,  and 
all  the  wrath  that  is  due  to  them.  But  if  you 
like  not  that,  and  resolve  to  be  no  more  your 
own,  but  Christ's,  then  what  have  you  to  do 
but  cheerfully  to  embrace,  yea,  earnestly  to 
seek  all  opportunities  to  do  hin^  service? 

4.  These  are  the  steps  of  Christ's  humilia- 
tion ;  look  on  them,  then,  so  as  to  study  to  be 
like  him  particularly  in  that.     Surely,  the 

I  soul  that  hath  most  of  Christ,  haih  most  hu- 
!  mility.    It  is  the  lesson  he  peculiarly  recom- 
mends to  us  from  his  own  example,  which  is 
the  shortest  and  most  eflectual  way  of  teach- 
ing :  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and.  lowly 
\  of  heart.    Matt.  xi.  29.    He  says  well,  £rM- 
bescat  ho?no  superbiis  esse,  propter  ijvcm  hu- 
I  7nilts  faclus  est  Deus  :    Let  man  be  ashamed 
j  to  he  any  longer  [)roud,  for  whom  God  him- 
self humbled  himself  so  low.  Jntolerabilis 
est  impvd cntia,  ut  ubi  se  exinanivil  rnajeslas, 
veriniculus  infietur  et  inlvmescat.      He  be- 
came humble  to  expiate  our  pride,  and  yet  we 
will  not  banish  that  pride  which  undid  us, 
and  follow  that  way  of  salvation  which  is  hu- 
{  mility.    Jesus  Christ  is  indeed  the  lily  of  the 
!  valleys  ;  he  grows  nowhere  but  in  the  hum- 
ble heart. 

Rose  asain  the  third  day.]  When  hum- 
bled to  the  lowest,  then  nearest  to  his  exalta- 
tion, as  Joseph  in  the  prison.  He  could  die, 
for  he  was  a  man,  and  a  man  for  that  pur- 
pose, that  he  might  die  ;  but  he  could  not  be 
overcome  by  death,  for  he  was  God  :  yea,  by 
dying,  he  overcame  death,  and  so  showed 
himself  truly  the  Lord  of  life.  He  strangled 
that  lion  in  his  own  den.  The  whale  swal- 
lowed Jonah,  but  ii  could  not  digest  him  ;  it 
was  forced  to  cast  him  up  again  at  the  ap- 
pointed time,  the  same  with  the  time  here 
specified,  wherein  the  prophet  was  a  figure 
of  this  great  prophet,  Jesus  Christ.  The 
grave  hath  a  terrible  appetite  ;  it  devours  all, 
and  still  cries,  give,  give,  and  never  hath 
enough,  as  Agur  says  ;  yet,  for  all  its  appe- 
tite, Christ  was  too  great  a  morsel  for  it  to 
digest,  too  strong  a  prisoner  for  all  iis  bars 
and  iron  gates  to  keep  him  in.  ]t  was  imjtos- 
sible  he  should  be  holden  of  it,  says  St.  Peter. 
Acts  ii.  24. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


587 


He  liatli  made  a  breach  through  death, 
opened  up  a  passage  on  the  other  side  of  it 
into  life,  though  otherwise,  indeed  vestig-ia 
nulla  relmrsuin.  They  wlio  believe,  who 
lay  luld  on  hiin  by  faiih,  tliey  come  through 
with  him,  follow  him  out  at  the  same  breach, 
pass  through  death  into  heaven.  But  the 
rest  tind  not  the  passage  out  :  it  is  as  the  Red 
sea,  i)assable  only  to  the  Israelites  ;  therefore, 
they  must  of  necessity  sink  quite  downward 
through  the  grave  into  hell,  through  the  first 
deaiii  into  the  second,  and  that  is  the  most  ter- 
rible of  all.  Thai  death  is  mdeed  what  one 
called  the  other  the  most  terrible  of  all  terri- 
bles—lhe  kins,  of  terrors,  as  it  is  in  Job. 

Now,  the  only  assurance  of  that  happy  sec- 
ond resurrection  to  the  life  of  glory  hereafter 
is,  the  first  resurrection  here  to  the  life  of 
grace.  Blessed  are  they  that  are  partakers  nf 
the  first  resurrection,  for  on  such  the  second 
death  hath  no  power.  Rev.  xx.  G.  For  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  is,  to  the  believer, 
the  evidence  of  his  redemi)tion  completed, 
that  all  was  paid  by  Christ,  as  our  surety, 
and  so,  he  set  at  liberty:  which  the  apostle 
teaches  us,  when  he  says,  He  arose  for  our 
rifrhteousness  ;  and  again,  It  is  God  that  jus- 
tifies :  who  shall  condemn  ?  It  is  Christ  that 
died,  or  rather  that  is  risen  again.  Rom.  viii. 
33.  Nor  is  it  only  the  pattern  and  pledge  of 
A  believer's  resurrection,  but  it  is  the  cfhcient 
cause  both  of  that  last  resurrection  of  his  body 
to  glory,  and  of  the  first  of  his  soul  to  crace. 

The  life  of  a  believer  is  derived  and  flows 
forth  from  Christ  as  his  head,  and  is  mys- 
tically one  life  with  his,  and  therefore,  a,s 
himself  expresseth  it,  because  I  live,  ye  shall 
live  also.  John  xiv.  19.  Therefore  is  he 
called  the  the  first  begotten  from  the  dead 
and  the  be  ginning,  'En  ^Uiv  Trn'.irc.'t,,.  Col.  i. 
18.  He  is  first  in  all,  and  from  him  spring  all 
those  streams  that  /nake  <;lad  the  city  of  God. 
Therefore  tiie  apostle,  in  bis  thanksgiving  for 
our  new  life  and  lively  hopes,  1  Pet.  i.  3, 
leaves  not  (jut  that.  Blessed  be  God,  the  Fa- 
ther of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  that  is  the 
conduit  tif  all.  And  he  expresses  it  in  the 
same  place,  that  we  are  he^otttn  a^ain  to  a 
livcl >/  hope,  hy  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  from 
the  dead.  Hut,  alas  !  we  prejudge  ourselves 
of  all  that  rich  comfort  that  is  wrajipcd  U[)  in 
this,  by  livjng  to  ourselves  and  our  lusts,  and 
to  the  world,  having  nofour  consciences  pu- 
rified from  dead  works.  How  few  of  us  are 
there  wliosei  that  ambition  of  Paul  before  us, 
desiring  abuve  all  tlnngs  to  know  hun  and  the 
•power  of  his  resurrtctiore,  to  be  made  con- 
formable unto  his  death  .'  Phil.  iii.  10.  That 
is  the  knowledge,  as  he  there  exjjresses  it,  a 
.ively  experienced  knowled^ie  of  that  power.  I 

This  righilr  considered,  will  answer  all  our 
doubts  and  fears  in  the  church's  hardest 
limes.     When  in  its  deliverance  there  ap- 

fiears  nothing  but  impossibilities,  when  so 
ow  that  its  enemies  are  per.'-uaded  to  con- 
clude til  It  it  shall  never  rise  attain,  and  its 
fritndsare  oppressed  with  fearing  so  much, 


yet,  he  who  brought  up  his  own  Son  Jesus 
from  the  dead,  can  and  will  restore  his  churcb, 
for  which  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son  to 
the  death.  Son  of  man,  says  he,  can  thest 
dry  bones  lire?  Ezek.  xxxii.  3.  Thus  often 
looks  the  church's  deliverance,  which  is  there 
the  proper  sense.  The  prophet  answered 
most  wisely,  Lord,  thou  knowesl  ;  q.  d.  It  is 
a  work  only  for  thee  to  know  and  to  do  ;  and 
by  his  Spirit  they  were  revived.  And  so  here, 
it  looked  hopeless  as  the  disciples  thought  ; 
they  were  at  the  point  of  giving  it  over,  and 
blaming  almost  their  former  credulity  :  We 
thought  this  should  have  been  he  that  should 
have  delivered  Israel  ;  and  besides  all  this, 
to-day  is  the  third  day.  True,  the  third  day 
was  come,  but  it  was  not  yet  ended  ;  yea, 
he  rose  in  the  beginning  of  it,  thouarh  they 
as  yet  knew  it  not,  nor  him  to  be  present  to 
whom  they  spake  ;  but  toward  the  end  of  it, 
they  likewise  knew  that  he  was  risen,  when 
lie  was  pleased  to  discover  himself  to  them. 
Thus,  though  the  enemies  of  the  church  pre- 
vail so  far  against  it,  that  it  seems  buried, 
and  a  stone  laid  to  the  grave's  mouth,  yet,  iC 
shall  rise  again,  and  at  the  very  fittest,  the 
appointed  time,  as  Christ  the  third  day. 
Thus  the  church  expresses  her  confidence, 
Hos.  vi.  2:  In  the  third  day  he  will  raise  us 
up.  Wliatsoever  it  suffers  it  shall  gain  by  it, 
and  be  more  beautiful  and  glorious  in  its 
restorement.  Mergas  profunda,  pulchrior 
exiltt. 

He  ascended  into  heaven.'\  He  rose  again, 
not  to  remain  on  earth  as  bel'ore,  but  to 
return  to  his  throne  of  majesty,  whence 
his  love  drew  bim,  according  to  his  prayer, 
John  xvii.,  which  was  a  certain  prediction  of 
it.  He  had  now  accomplished  the  great 
work  he  came  for.  and  was  therefore,  by  the 
covenant  and  transaction  between  his  Father 
and  him,  to  be  exalted  to  his  foriner  glory  ; 
the  same  person  as  before,  but  with  the  ac- 
cession of  another  nature,  which  he  had  not 
before,  and  of  a  new  relative  dignity,  being 
to  sit  as  king  of  his  church,  which  he  had 
purchased  with  his  blood.  And  to  express 
this,  it  is  added. 

And  siltelh  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  the 
Father  ]  See  Psalm  ex.  1  ;  Ephes.  i.  20,  21. 
By  which,  according  to  his  allusive  sense,  is 
expressed,  not  only  his  matchless  glory,  but 
bis  dominion  and  rule  as  Prince  of  Peace,  the 
alone  king  of  his  church,  her  supreme  law- 
giver and  mighty  protector,  and  conqueror  of 
all  his  enemies;  ruling  his  holy  hill  of  Zion, 
with  the  golden  scejjtre  of  bis  word,  and 
breaking  his  enemies,  the  strongest  of  them, 
in  pieces  with  the  iroji  rod  of  his  justice,  as 
we  have  it  in  the  second  Psalm.  They  at- 
tempt in  vain  to  uns'^nle  his  throne  ;  it  is 
very  far  out  of  their  .^ach,  as  high  as  the 
right  hand  of  God.  For  ever,  0  (rod,  thy 
throne  is  established  in  heaven  !  What  way 
is  there  for  the  worms  of  this  earth  to  do  any 
thing  against  it  ? 

As  in  these  is  the  glory  of  Christ,  so,  thej 


58b 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


contain  much  comfort  to  a  Clirisiian,  In 
that  very  I'K'vaiioii  otOur  nature  to  sueh  dig- 
nity, is.  indeeil,  as  the  ancients  speaii,  rtiira 
diirnnlio;  tliat  our  flesh  is  exalted  ahove  all 
the  i:lorioiis  spirits,  the  angels.  And  they 
adore  tlie  nature  of  man,  in  the  person  of 
man's  y  loritied  Savior,  the  Son  of  God.  This 
exaltation  of  Jesus  Christ  doth  so  reflect  a 
dignity  on  the  nature  of  mankind.  But  the 
right  and  possession  of  it,  is  not  universal, 
but  is  contracted  and  apjiropriate  to  them 
that  believe  on  him.  Hp  took  not  on  him  the 
nalxire  of  ayis^els,  says  the  apostle,  hut  the 
nature  of  the  .teed  of  Abraham.  Heb.  ii.  16. 
He  says  not,  the  nature  of  man,  though  it  is 
so,  but,  o  f  the  seed  of  Abraham  ;  not  so  much 
because  of  his  descent  from  that  particular 
stock  after  the  flesh,  as  in  the  spiritual  sense 
of  Abraham's  seed,  as  it  is  at  large  cleared, 
Rom.  ix.  Tiie  rest  of  mankind  forfeit  all  that 
dignity  and  beneflt  that  arise  to  their  nature 
ni  Christ,  by  their  distance  and  disunion  from 
iiim  through  unbelief.  But  the  believer  hath 
not  only  naturally  one  kind  of  being  with  the 
humanity  of  Christ,  but  is  mystically  onewilh 
the  person  of  Christ,  with  whole  Christ,  God- 
man.  And  by  virtue  of  that  mysterious  union, 
they  who  partake  of  it,  partake  of  the  very 
present  happiness  and  glory  of  Christ:  they 
have  a  real  interest  in  whatsoever  he  is  and 
hath,  in  all  his  dignities  and  power  ;  and  in 
that  sense,  they  who  are  justified  are  glorifi- 
ed. Rom.  viii.  30.  In  that  Christ  is  exalted, 
they  are  so  loo  in  him.  Where  a  part,  and 
the  chief  part  of  themselves,  is,  and  is  in  hon- 
or, there  may  they  account  themselves  to  be. 
Ubi  porlio  mca,  regyiat,  ihi  me  regnnre  credo. 
A  man  is  said  to  be  crowned,  when  tiie  crown 
is  set  upon  his  head  ;  now,  our  Head,  Christ, 
is  already  crowned. 

In  sum,  believers  have,  in  this  ascending 
and  enthroning  of  Christ,  unspeakable  com- 
fort through  tiieir  interest  in  Christ,  both  in 
consideration  of  his  present  aff'ection  to  them, 
and  his  efiectual  intercession  for  them,  and 
in  the  assured  hope  which  this  gives  them 
of  their  own  after  happiness  and  glory  with 
him. 

First,  In  all  his  glory  he  forgets  them  not. 
He  puts  not  ofl'  his  bowels  with  his  low  con- 
dition here,  but  hath  carried  it  along  to  his 
throne.  Bene  convenrunt,  et  in  una  scde  mo- 
rantur,  majeslas  et  amor.  His  majesty  and 
love  suit  very  well,  and  both  in  their  highest 
degree.  As  all  the  waters  of  his  suff"erings 
did  not  quench  his  love,  nor  left  he  it  behind 
him  buried  in  the  grave,  but  it  arose  with 
him,  being  stronger  than  death  ;  so,  he  let  it 
not  fall  to  the  earth  when  he  ascended  on 
high,  but  it  ascended  with  him,  and  he  still 
retains  it  in  his  glory.  And  that  our  flesh 
which  he  assumed  on  earth,  he  took  up  into 
heaven,  as  a  token  of  indissoluble  love  be- 
tween him  and  those  whom  he  redeemed, 
and  sends  down  thence,  as  the  rich  token  of 
h's  love,  his  .Spirit  into  their  hearts;  so  that 
tnese  are  mutual  re  Tiembrances.  Can  he  for- 


get his  own  on  earth,  having  iheir  flesh  bo 
closely  uniied  to  him  ?  You  see  he  does  not; 
he  feels  what  they  suflTer.  Raid,  Saul,  why 
jH-rsecutest  thou  MR  ?  And  can  they  forget 
him  whose  S])irit  dwells  in  them,  and  records 
lively  to  their  hearts  the  passages  of  his  love, 
and  brings  all  those  things  to  their  remem- 
brance (as  himself  tells  us,  that  S]iirit  would 
do),  and  so  proves  indeed'THK  Cobifortkr,  by 
representing  unto  us  that  his  love,  the  spring 
of  our  comforts  ?  And  when  we  send  up  our 
requests,  we  know  of  a  friend  before  us  there, 
a  most  true  and  a  most  faithful  friend,  who 
fails  not  to  speak  for  us  what  we  say,  and 
much  more.  He  livelh,  says  the  apostle,  to 
make  intercession  for  us.  Heb.  vii.  25.  This 
is  the  ground  of  a  Christian's  boldness  at  the 
throne  of  grace:  yea,  therefore  is  the  Fa- 
ther's throne  the  throne  of  grace  to  us,  be- 
cause the  throne  of  our  Mediator,  Jesus  Christ, 
:  is  beside  it :  he  sits  at  his  right  hand,  other- 
wise it  could  be  nothing  to  us  but  a  throne  oi" 
justice,  and  so,  in  regard  of  our  guiltiness,  a 
throne  of  terror  and  afl"rightment,  which  we 
would  rather  flee  from,  than  draw  near  unto. 

Lastly,  as  we  have  the  comfort  of  such  a 
friend,  to  prepare  access  to  our  prayers  there, 
which  are  the  messengers  of  our  souls,  so,  of 
this,  that  our  souls  themselves,  when  they 
remove  from  these  houses  of  clay,  shall  find 
admission  there  through  him.  And  this  he 
tells  his  disciples  again  and  again,  and  in 
them  all  his  own,  that  their  interest  was  sa 
much  in  his  ascending  to  his  glory:  I  go  to 
prepare  a  place  for  you,  that  where  1  am, 
there  ye  may  be  also.  John  xiv.  3. 

It  will  not  be  hard  to  persuade  them  who 
believe  these  things,  and  are  portioners  in 
them,  to  set  their  hearts  on  them,  and,  for 
that  end,  to  take  them  off"  from  all  other 
things  as  unworthy  of  them  :  yea,  it  will  be 
impossible  for  them  to  live  without  the  fre- 
quent and  sweet  thoughts  of  that  place  where 
the  Lord  Jesus  is.  Yet,  it  is  often  needful  to 
remind  them  that  thiscan  not  be  enough  done, 
and,  bv  representing  these  things  to  them,  to 
draw  them  more  upward.  And  it  is  best  done 
in  the  apostle's  words :  If  ye  be  risen  with 
Christ,  mind  those  things  that  are  above, 
where  he  sits,  &c.  Col.  iii^.  L  If  ye  be  risen 
with  him  follow  him  on,  let  your  hearts  be 
where  he  is.  They  that  are  one  with  him, 
the  blessed  Seed  of  the  woman,  do  find  that 
unity  drawing  them  heavenward.  But,  alas! 
the  most  of  us  are  lil^  the  accursed  seed  of 
the  serpent,  basely  grovelling  on  this  eartn, 
and  licking  the  dust.  The  conversation  of 
the  believer  is  in  heaven,  where  he  hath  a 
Savior,  and  whence  he  looks  for  him.  Truly, 
there  is  little  of  a  true  Christian  here  (and 
that  argues  that  there  is  little  of  the  truth  of 
Christianity  among  us,  who  are  altogether 
here)  ;  his  head  in  heaven,  and  his  heart 
there,  and  these  are  the  two  principles  of  life. 
Let  us  then  suit  the  apostle's  advice,  and  so 
enjoy  the  comfort  he  subjoins,  that  by  our  af- 
fections being  above,  we  may  know,  that  our 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


589 


life  IS  hid  wit/i  Christ  in  God,  and  therefore,  j  most  conspicuously  in  all  togei^er,  that  the 
that  xchen  he,  who  is  our  life,  shall  appear,  we  I  justice  and  mercy  of  God  may  not  only  be 
likewise  shall  appear  with  him  in  s'lort/.  \  accomplislied,  but  acknowledged  and  magni- 

From /hurice  he  shall  come  lo  judge  the  quick  fied,  and  that,  not  only  severally  in  the  sev- 
and  the  dead.]  We  have  in  this  to  consider,  '  eral  persons  of  men  and  angels,  but  univer- 
1.  That  there  is  a  universal  judgment.  2.  That  sally,  jouitly,  and  manifestly  in  the  view  of 
Chrisi  is  the  Judge.  3.  Something  to  be  ad-  all,  as  upon  one  theatre,  angels  and  men  be- 
ded  of  the  quality  of  the  judgment.  All  the  ing  at  once,  some  of  them  the  objects  of  that 
three  we  have  together.  Acts  xvii.  31  :  Be-  justice,  others  of  mercy,  but  all  of  them  spec- 
cause  he  hath  appointed  a  day  in  u-hich  he  will  tators  of  both.  Each  ungodly  man  shall  not 
judge  the  world  in  righteousness,  by  that  man  only  read,  whether  he  will  or  no,  the  justice 
whom  he  hath  ordained  ;  whereof  he  hath  giv-  of  God  in  himself  and  his  own  condemnation, 
en  assurance  unto  all  men,  m  that  he  hath  which  most  of  them  shall  do  before  that  time 
raised  him  from  the  dead.  in  their  soul's  particular  judgment  ;  but  they 

1.  That  there  is  a  universal  judgment,  we  shall  then  see  the  same  justice  in  all  the  rest 
know  lo  be  the  frequent  doctrine  of  ihe  Scrip-  of  the  condemned  world,  and  the  rest,  in 
tures,  and  it  hath  been  ever  the  belief  of  the  ihem  ;  and,  to  the  great  increase  of  their  an- 
godly  from  the  beginning,  as  we  may  per-  guish,  they  shall  see  likewise  the  glory  of  that 
ceive  by  that  ancient  prophecy  of  Enoch,  re-  mercy  which  shall  then  shine  so  bright  in  all 
corded  by  Si.  Jude  :  and  we  are  so  to  helieve  the  elect  of  God,  from  which  they  themselves 
It  as  a  Divine  truth.  And  yet,  there  is  so  are  justly  shut  out,  and  delivered  up  to  eter- 
much  just  reason  for  it,  that  natural  men,  by  nal  misery.  And,  on  the  other  side,  the  godly 
the  few  sparkles  of  light  in  their  consciences,  shall  with  unspeakable  joy  behold,  not  only  a 
have  had  some  dark  notions  and  conjectures  part,  as  before,  but  the  whole  sphere  both  of 
of  it,  as  is  evident  in  Plato  and  the  Platonics,  the  justice  and  mercy  of  their  God,  and  shall 
and  not  only  the  philosophers,  hut  the  poets:  with  one  voice  admire  and  applaud  him  in 
it  rnay  be,  too,  that  they  had  been  helped  by  both. 

some  scattered  glimmerings  of  light  concern-  '  Besides,  <he  process  of  many  i_en's  actions 
ing  this,  borrowed  from  the  Jews,  and  tradi-  can  not  be  full  at  the  end  of  their  life,  as  it 
tionally  passed  from  hand  to  hand  among  the  shall  be  at  that  day  ;  many  have  very  large 
heathen,  and  therefore  disguised  and  altered  after-reckonings  to  come  upon  them  for  those 
after  their  fashion.  sins  of  others  to  which  they  are  accessory, 

If  we  be  persuaded  that  there  is  a  Supreme  though  committed  after  their  death  ;  as  the 
Ruler  of  the  world,  who  is  most  wise  and  sins  of  ill-educated  children  to  he  laid  to  the 
just,  and  good,  this  will  persuade  us,  not  charge  of  their  parents,  the  sins  of  such  as 
only  that  there  is  some  other  estate  and  be-  j  any  have  corrupted,  either  by  their  counsels 
ing  than  that  we  see  here,  appointed  for  man,  or  opinions,  or  evil  examples,  &:c. 
the  most  excellent,  the  reasonable  part  of  this  j  2.  He,  the  Lord  Jesus,  shall  he  Judge  in 
visible  world  ;  but  that  there  shall  be  a  sol-  that  great  day.  The  Father,  and  Spirit,  and 
emn  judicial  proceeding,  in  entering  and  in-  his  authority,  are  all  one,  for  they  are  all  one 
stating  him  in  that  after-being.  The  many  God  and  one  Judge;  but  it  shall  be  parlicu- 
miseries  of  this  present  life,  and  that  the  best  j  larlv  exercised  and  pronounced  bv  our  Savior, 
of  men  are  usually  deepest  sharers  in  them,  ,  God-man,  Jesus  Christ.  That  eternal  Word 
though  it  hath  a  little  staggered,  not  only  by  whom  all  things  were  made,  by  him  all 
wise  heathens,  hut  sometimes  some  of  the  shall  be  judged  ;  and  so,  he  shall  be  the 
prime  saints  of  God,  yet,  it  hath  never  pre-  Word  in  that  last  act  of  time,  as  in  the  first, 
vailed  with  any  but  brutal  and  debauched  He  shall  judicially  pronounce  that  great  and 
spirits,  to  conclude  against  Divine  providence,  final  sentence  which  shall  stand  unalterable 
but  rather  to  resolve  upon  this,  that  of  neces-  in  eternity  ;  and  not  only  as  the  eternal  Son 
sity  there  must  be  another  kind  of  issue,  a  of  God,  but  withal  as  the  Son  of  man,  and  so 
final  catastrophe,  reducing  all  the  present  shall  he  sit  as  king,  and  invested  with  till 
confusions  into  order,  and  making  odds  even,  power  in  heaven  and  earth.  By  that  man 
as  you  sav.  Cum  res  hominum  tanta  caligine  '  whom  he  hath  appointed  to  judge  the  quick 
volvt.  [Claudiax.]  It  is  true,  that  some-  \  and  the  dead.  The  same  Jesus  shall  so  come, 
times  here,  the  Lord's  right  hand  finds  out  in  like  manner  as  ye  have  seen  him  go  into 
his  enemies,  and  is  known  by  the  judgment  heaven.  Acts  xvii.  31  ;  i.  11.  The  powers  of 
which  he  executes  on  them;  and,  on  the  the  world  and  of  hell  are  combined  against 
other  side,  he  gives  some  instances  of  his  era-  his  throne  ;  therefore,  they  shall  be  his  foot- 
310U8  providence  to  his  church,  and  to  panic-  stool  sitting  on  that  throne.  And  the  crown 
ular  godly  men,  even  before  the  sons  of  men  :  which  he  hath  purchased  for  believers,  he 
bat  these  are  but  some  few  preludes  and  shall  set  it  on  their  heads  w'tu  his  own 
pledges  of  that  great  Judgment.  Some  he  hand.  This  shall  be  exceeding  joy  and  corn- 
gives,  that  we  forget  not  his  justice  and  fort  to  all  that  have  believed  "on  him,  that 
goodness  ;  but  much  is  reserved,  that  we  ex-  that  their  Redeemer  shall  be  their  Judge.  He 
pect  not  all,  nor  the  most  here,  but  hereafter,  who  was  judged  for  them,  shall  judge  them, 
And  it  is  certainly  most  congruous,  that  this  and  pass  sentence  according  to  that  covenant 
be  done,  not  only  in  each  particular  apart,  but  of  grace  which  holds  in  him,  pronouncing 


390 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


Uiem  free  fiom  the  wrath  which  he  himself  ' 
emlurc'd  for  them,  and  heirs  of  that  life  which 
ne  bousihl  with  his  dearest  blood. 

And  that  <:ives  no  less  accession  to  the  mis- 
er, of  the  wicked,  that  the  same  Jesus  whom 
they  opjiosed  and  despised,  so  many  of  tliem 
as  heard  anythint;  of  him,  he  shall  sit  upon 
their  final  judgment,  and  pronounce  sentence 
against  them,  not  partially  aventfins;  his  own 
quarrel  on  them — no  word  of  that — but  tnost 
justly  returning-  them  the  reward  of  their  un- 
grodliness  and  unbelief.  That  great  Shepherd 
shall  thus  make  that  great  separation  of  his 
sheep  Irom  the  goats. 

3.  Of  the  manner,  we  have  thus  much  here, 
that  he  shall  come  from  heaven  as  the  Scrip- 
tures teach  us,  he  shall  visibly  appear  in  ihe 
air  :  he  shall  come  in  the  clouds  of  heaven 
with  power  and  ^rreal  glory.  Matt.  xxiv.  30, 
attended  with  innumerable  companies  of  glo- 
rious angels  who  shall  serve  him,  both  in  the 
congregating  cif  his  elect,  and  in  separating  of 
them  from  the  reprobate  :  but  himself,  in  the 
brightness  of  his  own  majesty,  infinitely  sur- 
passing them  all.  2  Thess.  i.  7  :  hi  flaming 
fire.  His  first  coming  was  mean  and  ob- 
scure, suiting  his  errand,  for  then  he  came  to 
be  judged  :  but  that  last  coming  shall  be  glo- 
rious, for  he  comes  to  judge,  and  his  judg- 
ment shall  be  in  ri^hteotisness.  Acts  xvii.  31. 
Jtiste.  judtcahil  (jui  injuste  judicatns  est.  [Ar- 
GUSTiNE.]  There  shall  be  no  mis-alleging  or 
mis-proving,  or  mis-judging  there.  All  the 
judgments  of  men,  whether  private  or  judi- 
cial, shall  be  re-judged  there  according  to 
truth,  by  such  a  judge  before  whom  all  things 
are  naked.  And  not  only  shall  he  know  and 
judge  all  aright,  hut  all  they  who  are  judged, 
shall  themselves  be  convinced  that  it  is  so. 
Then  all  will  see  that  none  are  condemned 
but  most  deservedly,  and  that  the  Lord's  jus- 
tice is  pure  and  spotless  in  them  who  perish, 
as  his  grace  is  without  prejudice  to  his  jus- 
lice,  it  beinsr  satisfied  in  Christ  for  them  who 
are  saved.  The  books  shall  be  opened,  those 
which  men  so  willingly,  the  most  of  them, 
keep  shut  and  clasped  up,  and  are  so  unwil- 
ling to  look  into,  their  own  accusing  con- 
sciences :  the  Lord  will  proceed  formally 
against  the  wicked  according  to  the  books: 
no  wrong  shall  be  done  them,  they  shall  have 
fair  justice,  and  they  shall  see  what  they 
would  not  look  upon  before,  when  by  seeing, 
that  might  have  been  blotted  out,  aiid  a  free 
acquittance  written  in  its  stead.  And  that 
the  believer  shall  read  in  his  conscience  at 
that  day.  which  through  the  dimness  of  faith, 
and  the  dark,  troubled  estate  of  his  soul,  he 
many  timers  could  not  read  here  below. 

We  ar*  gaping  still  after  new  notions,  but 
a  few  things  wiscU  and  practically  known, 
drawn  down  from  the  head  into  the  heart,  are 
better  than  all  that  variety  of  knowing  that 
men  are  so  taken  up  with.  Faucis  Uteris 
opus  est  ad  mentrm  lionam.  This  and  such 
like  common  truths,  we  think  we  boih  know 
ana  believe  well  enough  ;  but  truly,  if  this 


great  point,  touching  the  great  and  li.st  judg- 
ment, were  indeed  known  and  believed  by  us, 
it  would  draw  our  minds  to  more  frequtnt 
and  more  deep  thoughts  of  it  ;  and  were  we 
often  and  serious  in  those  thoughts,  tbey 
would  have  such  influence  into  all  our  other 
thoughts,  and  the  wliole  course  of  our  lives, 
as  would  much  alter  the  frame  of  them  from 
what  they  arc.  Did  we  tliink  of  this  gospel 
which  we  preach  and  hear,  that  we  must 
then  be  judged  by  it,  we  should  be  now  more 
ruled  by  it.  But  the  truth  is,  we  are  willing- 
ly forgetful  of  these  things  ;  they  are  melan- 
choly,  pensive  thoughts,  and  we  are  content 
that  the  noise  of  affairs  or  any  vanities  (ill  the 
ears  of  our  minds,  that  we  hear  them  not. 
If  we  be  forced  at  some  times  to  hear  of  this 
last  judgment  to  come,  it  possibly  casts  out 
conscience  into  some  little  trembling  lit  for 
tfiv  lime,  as  it  did  Felix  ;  but  lie  was  not,  noi 
are  we,  so  happy  as  to  be  shaken  out  of  the 
custom  and  love  of  sin  by  it.  We  promise  it 
fair,  as  he  did,  some  other  time  ;  but  il'  that 
time  never  come,  this  day  will  come,  and  they 
who  shun  to  hear  or  think  of  it,  shall  then 
see  it,  and  the  sight  of  it  will  be  as  terrible 
and  amazing,  as  the  timely  thoughts  of  it 
would  have  been  profitable.  It  is,  no  doubt, 
an  unpleasing  subject  to  all  ungodly,  earthly 
minds;  but  surely,  it  were  our  wisdom  to  be 
of  that  mind  now,  that  then  we  shall  be  forced 
to  be  of :  we  shall  then  read,  by  the  light  of 
that  fire  which  shall  burn  the  world,  the  vani- 
ty of  all  those  things  whereon  we  now  dote 
so  foolishly.  Let  us  •'^erefore  be  persuaded 
to  ihink  so  now,  and  disengage  our  heart.s, 
and  fix  them  on  him  who  shall  then  judge  us. 
Kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  he  angry  and  ye  perish 
from  the  xcay,  when  his  wrath  is  kindled  but 
a  little.  They  only  are  happy  who  trust  in 
him.  That  which  is  the  affrightment  of  others, 
is  their  great  joy  and  desire:  they  love  and 
long  for  that  day,  both  for  their  Savior's  glory 
in  it,  and  their  own  full  happiness  :  and  that 
their  love  to  his  appearing,  is  to  them  a  cer- 
tain pledge  of  the  crown  they  are  to  receive 
at  his  appearing.  2  Tim.  iv.  8: — at  that  day, 
says  the  apostle.  This  day  he  esteems  more 
of  than  all  his  days  ;  therefore,  he  names  it 
no  otherwise  than  that  day.  How  may  we 
know  what  day  it  was  he  meant  ?  His  cor- 
onation-day. But  of  all  men,  surely,  tht 
hypocrite  likes  least  the  mention  and  remem- 
brance of  that  day  :  there  is  no  room  for  dis- 
guises there,  all  masks  must  o(f,  and  all  things 
appear  just  as  they  are,  and  that  is  the  worst 
news  to  him  that  can  be. 

1  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost.]  God  is  both  a 
Spirit  and  Holi/  ;  but  this  name,  personally 
taken,  is  peculiarly  that  of  the  third  person, 
proceeding  from  the  Father  and  the  Son,  by 
a  way  that  can  neither  be  expressed  nor  con- 
ceived. Holy  in  himself,  and  the  author  and 
cause  of  all  holiness  in  us. 

It  is  neither  useful  nor  safe  for  us  to  en- 
tangle  our  thoughtsin  disputes  concerning  ihis 
mystery,  but  it  is  necessary  that  we  know, 


£XPOSITIO^  OF  THE  CREED. 


591 


and  acknowledge  and  believe  in  this  Holy 
Spirit.  It  is  he  in  whom,  and  by  wiiom  we 
believe.  We  can  not  know  God,  nor  the 
things  of  God,  but  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  1  Cor. 
ii.  1  ;  nor  say  that  Jesus  is  God,  but  by  the 
same  Spirit.  1  Cor.  xii.  3.  We  know  that 
'ni5  holy  trinity  co-operates  in  the  work  of 
our  salvation  :  the  Father  hath  given  us  his 
Son,  and  the  Son  hath  sent  us  his  Spirit,  and 
the  Spirit  gives  us  faith,  which  unites  us  to 
the  Son,  and  through  him  to  the  Father.  The 
Father  ordained  our  redemption,  the  Son 
wrought  it,  the  holy  Spirit  reveals  and  ap- 
plies it. 

In.  the  holy  Catholic  church.']  The  remain- 
ing articles  have  the  fruit  of  that  great  work, 
the  sending  of  the  Son  of  God  in  the  flesh,  his 
suffering,  and  dying,  <5fc. — what  it  is,  and  to 
whom  it  belongs  ;  the  result  of  Christ's  incar- 
nation and  death,  cui  et  cujas  gratia.  Yea, 
the  great  design  of  God  in  the  other  great 
work,  that  of  the  first  creation,  was  this 
second  :  he  made  the  world  that  out  of  it  he 
might  make  this  elect  world,  which  is  called 
his  cliurch.  The  Son  fell  on  sleep,  on  a  dead 
sleep,  indeed  the  sleep  of  death  on  ihe  cross, 
'.hat  out  of  his  side  might  be  framed  his  spouse, 
which  is  his  church.  The  holy  Spirit  moving 
upon  the  souls  of  men  in  their  conversion^, 
aims  at  this  same  end,  the  gatherinsr  and 
completing  of  his  church  :  he  is  the  breath  of 
life  that  breathed  on  these  new  creatures  who 
make  up  iliis  society.  So  then,  this  is  as  much 
as  to  say,  I  verily  believe  that  God  had  such 
a  purpose  in  making  the  world,  and  in  send- 
ing his  Son  into  it,  and  ihcy  both  in  sending 
the  Spirit,  and  the  Spirit  iti  his  working  to 
make  a  holy  church,  a  number  that  should 
serve  God  here,  and  enjoy  him  in  eternity  ; 
and  I  believe,  that  God  can  not  fall  short  of 
his  end,  that  blessed  trinity  doth  not  project 
and  work  in  vain;  I  believe,  therefore,  there 
is  such  a  company,  there  is  a  holy  universal 
church.  Universal — diffused  through  the 
several  ages,  and  places,  and  nations  of  the 
world.  Holy— washed  in  the  blood  of  Christ, 
and  sanctified  by  his  Spirit.  That  it  is,  which 
it  hath  in  all  ages  continued  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  shall  continue  to  the  end  of  the 
world,  iiK-reasing  still  and  growing  to  its  ap- 
pointed perfection,  amidst  all  the  enemies  and 
oppositions  that  it  encounters  in  the  world. 
/  send  ynu  forth,  says  Christ,  as  sheeji  among; 
wolves.  Malt.  x.  16.  The  preservation  of  the 
church  is  a  continuing  miracle:  it  resembles 
Daniel's  safety  among  the  hungry  lions,  but 
prolonged  from  one  age  to  another.  The  ship 
wherein  Christ  is,  may  be  weather-beaten, 
out  it  si, all  not  perish. 

So  then,  you  see  that  this  confession  is  al- 
together  no  otber  than  your  acknowledgment 
of  God  in  himself,  three  in  one,  and  one  in 
three;  and  his  works  of  the  creation  of  the 
world,  and  redemption  of  man  by  his  Son, 
made  man  for  tliat  purpose,  and  appropriate 
to  ihem  for  whom  it  was  designed  by  his  holy 
Spirit;  and  with  this  acknowledgment,  our 


reliance  on  this  God  as  the  author  of  our  be- 
ing and  well-bein<r. 

The  commv7uon  of  saints.^  This  springs 
immediately  from  the  former:  if  they  make 
one  church,  then  they  have  a  very  near  com- 
munion together.  They  are  one  body  united 
to  that  glorious  head  that  is  above  :  tliev  have 
all  one  spiritual  life  flowing  from  him.  And 
this  communion  holds  not  only  on  earth  and 
in  heaven  apart,  but  even  between  heaven 
and  earth  :  the  saints  on  earth  make  up  the 
same  body  with  those  already  in  glory  :  they 
are  born  to  the  same  inheritance  by  new  birth, 
though  the  others  are  entered  in  possession 
before  them.  This  their  common  title  to 
spiritual  blessings,  and  eternal  blessings  pre- 
judges none  of  them  :  their  inheritance  is  such 
as  is  not  lessened  by  the  multitude  of  heirs: 
it  is  entire  to  each  one.  And  that  grace  and 
salvation  that  flows  from  Christ,  the  Son  of 
Righteousness,  is  as  the  light  of  the  sun  where 
it  shines  ;  none  hath  the  less  because  of  others 
partaking  of  it.  The  happiness  of  the  saints 
is  called  an  inheritance  in  light,  which  all 
may  enjoy  without  abatement  to  any.  They 
have  each  one  their  crown :  they  need  not, 
they  do  not  envy  one  another,  nor,  Ottoman- 
like,  one  brother  to  kill  another  to  reign  alone. 
Yea,  thev  rejoice  in  their  happiness  and  sal- 
vation of  one  another  ;  they  are  glad  at  the 
sjraces  which  God  bestows  on  their  brethren  ; 
for  they  know  that  they  all  belong  to  the  same 
first  owner,  and  return  to  his  glory,  and  that 
]  whatsoever  diversity  is  in  them,  they  all  agree 
[  and  concentre  in  thai  service  and  good  of  the 
j  church  ;  and  so,  what  each  one  hath  of  gifts 
and  graces,  belongs  to  all  by  virtue  of  this 
communion.  Thus  ousht  each  of  them  to 
I  think,  and  every  one  of  them  humbly  and 
I  charitably  so  to  use  what  he  hath  himself, 
and  ingenuously  to  rejoice  in  that  which 
others  nave,  as  the  apostle  reasons  at  large, 
j  1  Cor.  xii. 

A  holy  catholic  church — the  communion  of 
I  saints.]  We  may  see  the  worth  and  the  ne- 
cessity of  holiness,  how  much  it  is  regarded  in 
the  whole  work.  For  this  very  thing  did  Christ 
give  himself  for  his  church,  that  he  might 
sanctify  it,  and  cleanse  it — that  he  might  pre- 
sent it  to  himself  a  glorious  church — holy. 
Eph.  V.  26.  So  it  is  the  end  of  our  redemp- 
tion. And  if  we  look  as  far  forward  as  sal- 
vation, there  it  will  be  [lerfect  holiness  :  noth- 
ing unclean  shall  enter  that  holy  city,  and 
without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  God.  And 
look  again  as  far  back  as  our  election  :  Eph. 
i.  4.  According  as  he  hath  chosen  us  in  him 
— that  we  should  he  holy.  And  those  who  are 
not  partakers  of  this,  do  but  delude  them- 
selves, in  dreaming  of  an  interest  in  the  rest. 
There  is  no  washing  in  the  blood  of  Christ  to 
remission,  but  withal  hy  the  Spirit  to  sancti- 
fication  ;  no  comfort  to  the  unholy  in  their 
resurrection,  because  no  hope  of  that  to  follow 
on  it,  which  follows  here,  ilernal  life.  No, 
u'illiout  shall  lie  dogs.  Rev.  xxii.  15.  In  the 
base  and  foolish  opinion  of  the  world,  holinesa 


5S2 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


IS  a  reproach,  or  at  the  best,  but  a  mean  poor 
cc'iniiu-iulatio!!,  as  you  speak  of  it  (iisdainl'ully, 
a  i'od'/,  N^y/i/,  holy  /<()(/(/;  ami  ineu  are  more 
pleased  wiiii  any  other  title  :  they  had  a  great 
deal  rather  he  railed  learned,  or  wise, or  stout, 
or  eomely,  than  holy.  Mnhimus  audire,  O 
viruin  ilocliirn,  i/urimO  virum  honiim.  [Seneca.] 
But  God  esteems  ollierwise  of  it,  whose  es- 
teem is  the  true  rule  of  worth.  That  fore- 
cited  place,  A  g/onou.i  church:  how?  Ho!i/ 
and  without  blemish.  That  is  indeed  the  true 
beauty  of  the  soul,  makes  it  like  God,  and 
that  is  its  comeliness.  We  see  the  Lord 
himself  delights  to  be  known  much  by  this 
style,  and  to  be  glorified  by  it,  holi/,  holy, 
holy.  So  Exod.  xv.  11  :  glorious  in  holiness. 
And  ihe  Spirit  of  God  is" still  called  the  holy 
Spirit.  IIow  much,  then,  are  they  mistaken 
concerning  heaven,  who  think  to  find  the  way 
to  it  out  of  the  path  of  holiness,  which  is  in- 
deed 1-ia  regni,  the  only  way  that  leads  unto 
it  !  Reprove  you  of  holiness,  you  say  ;  you 
are  not  saints.  No  ?  So  much  the  worse,  for 
they  who  mean  to  share  it!  the  pardon  of  sin 
and  eternal  life,  must  be  such.  If  you  be  con- 
tent still  not  to  be  saints,  go  on  :  but  know, 
that  they  who  are  not  in  some-measure  saints 
in  grace  here,  shall  never  be  saints  in  glory 
hereafter. 

Forgiveness  of  sins.]  Notwithstanding 
forgiveness  of  sins,  there  is  a  necessity  of  holi- 
ness, though  not  as  meriting  it,  yet,  as  lead- 
ing unto  happiness.  But  on  the  other  side, 
not  withsiaiuling  the  highest  point  of  holiness 
we  can  attain,  there  is  a  necessity  of  this  for- 
giveness of  sins.  Though  believers  make  up 
a  holy  church  and  company  of  saints,  yet, 
there  is  a  debt  upon  them  that  their  holiness 
prays  not :  yea,  they  are  so  far  from  having  a 
surplus  for  a  standing  treasure  after  all  is  paid, 
that  all  the  holiness  of  the  saints  together 
will  not  pay  the  least  farthing  of  that  debt 
they  owe.  As  for  me,  I  will  walk  in  mine  in- 
tegrity, says  David,  Psalm  xxvi.  11.  How 
then  ?  adds  he,  this  shall  justify  me  sufficient- 
ly ?  No,  but  Redeem  thou  me,  and  he  merciful 
to  me.  So,  1  John  i.  6  :  If  we  say,  that  toe 
have  fellowship  with  him,  and  walk  in  dark- 
ness, we  lie.  And  yet,  in  the  next  verse, 
though  we  do  loalk  in  the  light,  yet  is  there 
need  of  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  to  cleanse  us 
from  all  sin  ;  and  so  throughout  the  Scrip- 
tures. All  the  integrity  of  the  godly  under 
the  law,  did  not  exempt  them  from  offering 
sacrifice,  which  was  the  expiation  of  sin  in 
the  figure,  looking  forward  to  that  great  and 
spotless  sacrifice  that  was  to  be  slain  for  the 
sins  of  the  world.  And  those  who  believe  the 
gospel,  the  apjilieation  of  that  justifying  blood 
that  streams  forth  in  the  doctrine  of  the  gos- 
pel, is  not  only  needful  to  wash  in  for  their 
cleansing  in  their  first  conversion,  but  is  to  be 
reapplied  to  the  soul,  for  taking  off  the  daily- 
contracted  guiltiness  of  new  sins.  It  is  a  foun- 
tain opened  and  standing  open  for  sin  and  for 
uncleanncss,  as  that  sea  of  brass  before  the 
sanctuary.     They  that  are  clean  have  still 


need  of  washing,  at  least,  their  ieet,  as  Christ 
speaks  to  Peter,  John  xiii.  10. 

The  consideration  of  that  preciou.s  blood 
shed  for  our  sins,  is  the  strongest  ])ersuasive 
to  holiness,  and  to  the  avoiding  and  haling 
of  sin.  So  far  is  the  doctrine  of  justification, 
rightly  understood,  from  animating  men  to 
sin.  But  because  of  the  woful  continuance 
of  sin  in  the  godly,  while  they  continue  in 
this  region  of  sin  and  death,  therefore  is  there 
a  continual  necessity  of  new  recourse  to  this 
great  expiation.  Thus  St.  John  joins  these 
two,  1  Epis.  ii.  1,  2:  These  things  write  I 
unto  you,  that  ye  sin  not.  And  if  any  man 
sin,  we  have  an  advocate  with  the  Father,  .Te- 
sus  Christ  the  righteous  ;  and  he  is  the  pro- 
pitiation for  our  sins. 

You  think  it  an  easy  matter, and  a  thing  that 
for  your  own  ease  you  willingly  believe,  the 
forgiveness  of  sins.  It  is  easy  indeed,  after 
our  fashion  ;  easy  to  imagine  that  we  believe 
such  a  thing  when  we  hear  it,  because  we  let 
it  pass  and  question  it  not  ;  we  think  it  may 
be  true,  and  think  no  further  on  it,  while  we 
neither  know  truly  what  sin  is,  nor  feel  the 
weight  of  our  own  sins.  But  where  a  soul  is 
convinced  of  the  nature  of  sin,  and  its  own 
guiltiness,  there  to  believe  forgiveness  is  not 
so  easy  a  task. 

In  believing  tliis  forgiveness  of  sins,  and 
so,  the  other  privileges  that  attend  it,  there 
be  these  three  things  gradually  leading  one 
to  the  other.  1.  To  believe  that  there  is 
such  a  thing,  and  that  it  is  purchased  by  the 
death  of  Christ,  and  so  attainable  by  coming 
unto  him  for  it.  2.  By  this,  the  soul  finding 
itself  ready  to  sink  under  the  burden  of  its 
own  sins,  is  persuaded  to  go  to  him,  and  lay 
over  that  load  on  him  ;  and  itself  withal  re- 
solves to  rest  on  him  for  this  forgiveness. 
This  is  to  believe  in  him  who  is  the  Lord  our 
righteousness.  3.  Upon  this  believing  on  him 
for  forgiveness,  follows  a  reflex  believing  of 
that  forgiveness  ;  not  continually  and  insep' 
arably,  especially  if  we  take  the  degree  of 
assurance  somewhat  high,  but  yet,  in  itself, 
it  is  apt  to  follow,  and  often,  in  God's  gra- 
cious dispensation,  doth  follow  upon  that 
former  act  of  believing,  through  the  clear- 
ness and  strength  of  faith  in  the  soul,  and 
sometimes  withal  is  backed  with  an  express, 
peculiar  testimony  of  God's  own  Spirit.  To 
'  believe,  and  to  grow  stronger  in  believing, 
!  and  to  aspire  to  the  assurance  of  faith,  is  our 
I  constant  duty  ;  but  that  immediate  testimo- 
ny of  the  Spirit  is  an  arbitrary  beam  that 
God  reserves  in  his  own  hand,  yet  such  a 
gift  as  we  may  not  only  lawfully  seek,  but  lo 
foolishly  prejudice  ourselves  and  slight  it,  if 
we  neglect  to  seek  it,  and  want  so  rich  a 
blessing  for  want  of  asking,  and  withal,  la- 
boring to  keep  our  hearts  in  a  due  disposition 
and  frame  for  entertaining  it.  The  keeping 
of  our  consciences  pure,  as  much  as  may  be, 
doth  not  only  keep  the  comfortable  evidence 
of  pardon  clearest  and  least  interrupted  with- 
in us,  but  is  the  likeliest  to  receive  thosa 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED. 


593 


pure  joys!  which  flow  immediately  into  the 
soul  from  the  Spirit  of  God.  The  testimony 
of  our  conscience  is,  if  we  damp  it  not  our- 
selves, our  continual  feast;  but  that  testi- 
mony of  the  Spirit  is  a  superadded  taste  of 
higher  coml'ort  out  of  God's  own  hand,  as  it 
\vere  a  piece  of  heaven  in  the  soul,  which 
he  sometimes  cheers  it  withal,  where  he 
nath  first  given  much  love  and  ardent  desires 
after  himself:  they  are  short  of  that  light,  in 
'-he  fulness  whereof  we  hope  to  dwell  here- 
after. But  besides  uiai  God  is  most  free  in 
that  particular,  and  knows  what  is  fittest  for 
us,  the  greatest  jjart  even  of  true  Christians 
yet  do  not  so  walk,  nor  attend  to  that  spirit- 
ualness  that  is  capable  of  such  visits. 

The  resurrection  of  the  bocli/.]  The  com- 
lort  of  these  privileges  is  opposed  to  those 
grand  evils  that  we  feel  or  fear :  sanctifica- 
tion,  to  ihe  power  of  sin  ;  justification  or  I'ur- 
giveness,  to  the  guilt  of  sin  ;  the  resurrec- 
tion, to  temporal  death  :  and  life  eternal,  to 
the  second  or  eternal  death. 

This  is  the  raising  of  the  self-same  body 
that  is  laid  in  the  dust ;  otherwise,  the  giving 
of  a  body  to  the  soul  again  must  have  some 
other  name,  for  resurrection  it  can  not  be 
called. 

That  God  can  do  this,  notwithstanding  all 
imaginable  difficuliies  in  it,  have  we  not 
proof  enough  in  what  he  haih  done?  Surely, 
tbat  which  he  did  in  the  beginning  of  time, 
the  framing  of  the  whole  world  of  nothing, 
is  more  than  a  sulHcieni  pledge  of  this  which 
is  to  be  done  in  ihe  end  of  time. 

That  he  will  do  it.  we  have  his  own  word 
for  it,  and  the  pledge  of  it  in  raising  his  Son 
Jesus:  iherefijre  called.  The  first  begotten 
from,  the  dead.  Col.  i.  18,  this  as  relating  to 
believers,  who  are  one  with  him.  The  res- 
urrection of  the  dead  in  general  is  an  act  of 
power  :  but  to  the  godly,  it  is  an  act  of  grace, 
lo  the  wicked  of  justice.  Both  shall  rise  by 
the  power  of  Christ,  but,  to  the  one,  as  a 
Judge,  and  a  Judge  who  shall  condemn 
them;  to  the  other,  as  their  head,  and  their 
Savior.  Joseph's  two  fellow-prisoners  were 
both  taken  out  of  the  prison,  and  at  the  same 
time  :  but  the  one  lo  the  court,  the  other  to 
the  gallows.  So  shall  it  be  in  the  resurrec- 
tion.   John  V.  29. 

The  confession  of  faith  being  of  such  things 
as  behmg  to  believers  and  are  their  ha[)|(i- 
ness,  therefore  their  resurrection  is  particu- 
larly here  intended,  as  we  see  eternal  life 
and  glory  is  subjoined  to  it.  Our  bodies  are 
raised,  wiiicli  were  ccmipanions  and  partakers 
of  our  good  and  evil  in  our  abode  upon  earib, 
that  they  may  in  eternity  be  companions 
and  partakers  of  our  reward.  Those  of 
the  ungodly,  to  suit  their  condemned  souls, 
shall  be  filled  with  shame,  and  vileness,  and 
misery  ;  and  those  that  were,  in  their  lower 
estate  here,  ten[)ies  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  shall 
be  filled  wiih  that  fulness  of  joy  that  shall 
run  over  from  the  soul  uiiio  them :  they  shall 
be  conformable  to  the  happy  and  glorious 
7.5 


I  souls  to  which  they  shall  be  united,  yea,  to 

I  the  glorious  body  of  our  Lord  Jesus  "Chrisl. 

I  There  shall  then  be  nothing  but  beauty,  and 
glory,  and  immortality,  in  them  which  are 
now  frail  and  mortal,  and  being  dead,  do  pu- 
trify  and  turn  to  dust.  He  shall  change  our 
vile  bodies,  and  make  them  like  unto  his  most 

[  glorious  body.  Phil.  iii.  21.  But,  as  St.  Ber- 
nard says  well,  If  he  would  be  sure  of  this, 
that  our  bodies  shall  be  conformed  to  his  in 
the  glory  to  come,  let  us  see  that  our  souls 
be  here  conformed  to  his,  in  that  humility 
which  he  so  much  manifested  while  he 
dwelt  among  men  :  if  we  would  that  then 
our  vile  body  be  made  like  his  glorious  body, 

I  let  our  proud  heart  now  be  made  like  his 
humble  heart. 

j     Life  eternal.]  Our  confession  of  faith  ends 
in  that  which  is  the  end  of  our  faith,  our  ev- 
I  erlasting  salvation,  or  eternal  life.  Of  which, 
I  all  that  we  can  say  is  but  stammering,  and 
'  all  our  knowledge  and  conceiting  of  it  but 
ignorance,  in  regard  of  what  it  is :  yet,  so 
mu  h  we  know  or  may  know  of  it,  as,  if  we 
knew  aright,  w(juld  certainly  draw  us  more 
into  the  desires  and  pursuit  of  it.    The  very 
I  name  of  life  is  sweet,  but  then  especially  as 
it  is  here  meant,  in  the  purest  and  sweetest 
sense,  for  a  truly  happy  life.    Non  est  vivere, 
:  sed  valcre,  vita.    For  a  life  full  of  misery  is 
I  scarcely  worth  the  name  of  life,  and  the  ion- 
ger  it  were,  the  worse  ;  therefore,  the  miser- 
able estate  of  damned  souls,  though  immor- 
tal in  it,  is  called  death.    So  then,  by  this 
!  life,  true  and  full  blessedness  being  meant, 
and  then,  that  added,  that  it  is  eternal  life, 
what  can  be  imagined  more  to  make  it  de- 
sirable ?    So  happy,  that  there  shall  not  be 
the  smallest  drop  of  any  evil  or  biilerness  in 
it,  |)ure  unmixed  bliss  ;  nothing  present  in  it 
that  is  displeasing,  nor  anytliing  wanting 
that  is  deliffiitful  ;  and  everlasting,  that  when 
millions  of  years  (if  there  were  any  such 
reckoning  there)  are  rolled  about,  it  shall  be 
as  far  from  ending  as  at  the  first. 

A  very  little  knowledge  of  this  blessed  life 
would  make  us  clean  out  of  love  with  the 
life  that  now  we  make  such  account  of. 
What  can  it  be  that  ties  us  here  ?  The 
known  shortness  of  this  life,  were  it  more 
happy  than  it  is  to  any,  nii^ht  make  it  of 
less  esteem  with  us.  But  then  withal,  being 
so  full  of  miseries  and  sins,  so  stull'ed  with 
sorrows  round  about  us,  and  within  ourselves, 
that  if  the  lon<xest  of  it  can  be  called  long,  it 
is  only  the  multitude  of  miseries  in  it,  that 
can  challenge  that  name  for  it.  Sucii  a  world 
of  b(jdily  diseases,  here  one's  head  paining 
him,  another  his  stomach — Quam  male  nobis 
concrmt,  nunc  de  ventre,  nunc  de  capite,  Jfc, 
hoc  contingere  solet  in  alieno  habitantibus 
[Seneca]  :  some  complainingof  this  part, some 
of  that,  and  the  same  party  someiiines  of 
one  malady,  sometimes  of  another ;  what 
disappointments,  and  disgraces,  and  cross  en- 
counters of  affairs  ;  what  personal  and  what 
public  calamities  ;  and  then,  sin,  the  worst 


EXPOSITION  on  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


of  all !  And  yel,  all  can  not  wean  us  !  We 
can  nut  endure  to  hear  nor  to  tliink  of  leniov- 
m<X  :  and  llie  true  reason  is,  unbelief  of  this 
eternal  lili',  and  the  neglect  of  those  ways 
thai  lead  iv  it.  Be  persuaded  at  length  to 
call  in  your  heart  from  the  foolish  ch;;se  of 
vanity,  and  consider  this  glorious  life  that  is 
set  before  you.  Do  you  think  the  j)rovision 
you  make  for  this  wretched  present  life  worth 
so  many  hours'  daily  pains,  and  give  eternal 
life  scarcely  half  a  thought  in  many  hours, 
possibly  not  a  lixed,  serious  thought  in  many 
days?  Surely,  if  you  believe  there  is  such  a 
thing,  you  can  not  but  be  convinced  that  it  is 


a  most  preposterous,  unwise  course  you  take, 
in  the  expense  of  your  time  and  panis  upoc 
anything  else  more  than  on  life  eternal. 
Think  what  a  sad  thing  it  will  be,  when 
your  soul  must  remove  oui  of  that  little  cot- 
tage wherein  it  now  dwells,  not  to  be  bet- 
tered by  the  removal,  but  thrust  out  into  ut- 
ter darkness.  Whircas,  if  ye  would  give  up 
with  sin,  and  erubiace  Jesus  Christ  as  your 
joy  and  your  Hie,  in  him  you  would  present- 
ly be  put  into  a  sure,  unfailing  right  to  this 
eternal  life.  It  is  a  pure  life,  aiid  purity  of 
life  here  is  the  only  way  to  it.  B/esscd  »•  « 
the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


IMatt.  vi.  9. 

After  this  mannjr,  therefore,  pray  ye. 

The  malice  and  craft  of  Satan  in  reference 
to  good  actions,  works  first  in  attempting 
wholly  to  divert  us  from  them  ;  but,  if  that 
take  not,  the  next  is,  to  pervert  their  use,  and 
corrupt  them  so  in  doing,  that  they  lose  their 
acceptance  with  God,  and  we  consequently 
lose  the  fruit  and  comfort  of  them.  And  as 
there  is  no  religious  exercise  that  he  hath 
more  quarrel  at,  and  owes  greater  enmity  to, 
than  prayer,  being  the  most  constant  crosser 
of  his  designs,  there  is  none  from  which  he 
more  endeavors  to  estrange  men,  either  wholly 
to  lay  it  down,  or  to  frequent  cessations  ;  or, 
if  that  can  not  be,  but  the  light  of  conscience 
still  calls  for  somewhat  at  least  that  may 
pass  with  a  man  for  prayer,  yet,  if  Satan  can 
gel  it  turned  to  hypocrisy  and  formality,  he 
knows  he  needs  not  lear  it,  for  so  it  wants 
the  life  of  }  vayer,  aiid  remains  nothing  but 
a  dead  carcass,  and  therefore  can  neither 
please  the  living  God,  nor  hurt  him  who  is 
its  enemy. 

Therefore,  our  Savior  here  warns  his  disci- 
ples to  avoid,  in  praying,  these  two  evils,  the 
vain  ostentation  of  hypocrites,  and  the  vain 
rejielition  of  the  heathen  ;  not  to  think  it  pray- 
er, to  tumble  out  a  multitude  of  empty  words  : 
and  upon  that,  lakes  occasion  to  set  this 
matchless  copy  of  prayer,  the  way  of  exam- 
ple being  the  shortest  and  liveliest  way  of 
teaching.  These  words,  which  are  but  the 
entry,  are  not  to  be  passed  over  :  there  is  in 
them,  I.  The  duty  of  prayer  supposed.  II. 
Th'  prescribing  of  this  form.  First,  pray. 
Secondly,  after  this  manner. 

I.  The  use  and  necessity  of  prayer  is  taken 
for  confessed,  as  before,  verse  7  :  When  ye 
pray,  and  vheri  thou  prayest.  And  the  con- 
sideration of  this  exercise,  and  of  this  pattern 
of  it,  is  with  good  reason  accounted  among 
die  most  necsssary  piinciples  of  religion. 


Without  it,  indeed,  all  religion  withers  and 
languishes.  The  law  of  God  is  so  pure  and 
exact  a  rule,  that  we  can  not  come  near  the 
perfection  of  it,  and  therefore  fall  under  its 
curse.  When  we  understand  it  so,  that 
drives  us  to  the  gospel,  to  seek  salvation 
there.  And  the  articles  of  the  gospel,  of  ou? 
Christian  faith,  are  so  high  and  mysterious, 
that  nature  can  not  aright  understand  or  be- 
lieve them  ;  and  therefore,  both  law  and  gos- 
pel drive  us  to  prayer,  lo  seek  of  God  renew- 
ing grace  to  conform  our  hearts  in  some  meas- 
ure to  the  holv  law  of  God,  and  i'aith  to  lay 
hold  on  Jesus  Christ  and  salvation,  in  him 
held  forlh  to  us  in  the  gospel.  Prayer  is  not 
taken  in  its  strict  granmiaiical  sense,  in  which 
the  words  used  for  it  signify  only  jjeiiiion  or 
request :  but  as  comprehending,  together  with 
petition,  confession  and  thanksgiving.  It  may 
be  called  briefly  and  plainly,  a  pious  invoca- 
tion of  God  ;  and,  as  we  are  not  speaking  ab- 
stractly ol' prayer,  but  according  to  the  estate 
of  fallen  men,  it  is  very  fit  to  add  the  express 
mention  of  the  Mediator,  that  it  is  on  invoca- 
tion of  God  in  the  name  of  Christ  ;  for  it 
never  ascends  to  God  as  pleasing  incense,  but 
when  it  passeth  through  that  golden  censer, 
and  is  perfumed  with  the  sweet  odors  of  his 
merits  and  intercession.  His  entrance  into 
heaven  hath  opened  up  the  way  for  our  pray- 
ers to  come  in,  and  there  is  no  access  to  the 
throne  of  grace,  but  by  that  neiv  and  living 
way,  as  the  aposile  speaks,  Heb.  x.  20.  But 
how  much  better  is  ihe  frequent  practice, 
than  much  discourse  and  business  in  defining 
it !  Whatsoever  is  said  aright  in  this,  is  for 
the  other  as  its  end.  as  one  haih  it  out  of  an 
ancient  philosopher,  Inguiriwus  i/uid  sit  vir- 
tus, -non  ut  sciamus,  sed  ut  boni  efficiumur  : 
We  inquire  what  virtues  are,  not  to  know 
them,  but  to  have  them.  And  indeed,  to  do 
otherwise,  is  but  answerable  employment  to 
studying  the  nature  of  riches,  and  talking  of 
them,  and  remaining  poor,  possessing  none 


EXPOSn  ION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


595 


It  is  not  needful  to  stay  upon  distinguishing 
prayer  by  ilie  difl'ereni  matter  of  petitions,  or 
things  to  be  requested,  which,  possibly,  some 
of  the  different  names  of  prayer  in  Scripture 
do  signify.  This  may  suffice,  that  it  ought  to 
be  of  such  things  as  are  conformable  to  the 
will  and  promises  of  God,  and  deaired  with  a 
suitable  disposition  of  mind  ;  and  therefore  I 
call  it  a  pious  invocalion.'  It  is  the  highest 
impudence  to  present  God  with  unjust  or  friv- 
olous desires.  Qum  scire  homiiies  nolunt,  Deo 
narrant,  as  Seneca  speaks:  They  tell  God 
what  they  would  not  have  men  to  know.  We 
ought  to  reverence  the  majesty  of  God,  and 
regard  that  in  our  requests.  There  is  a  differ- 
ence between  solemn  prayer  and  sudden  ejacu- 
lations, but  it  is  not  a  difference  in  their  na- 
ture, but  only  in  continuance.  The  former  is 
here  meant.  Only  this  of  the  otiier,  it  is  to 
be  wished  that  it  were  more  known,  and  more 
in  use  with  Christians  ;  for  it  is,  no  doubt,  a 
very  happy  means  of  preserving  the  heart  in 
a  holy  temper  and  constant  regard  of  God  in 
all  a  man's  actions,  and  is  a  main  point  of  an- 
swering the  apostle's  word.  Pray  continually. 
When  in  company,  and  apart,  a  man  useth 
secret,  short  motions  of  the  soul  to  God,  that 
may  be  very  frequent  in  the  day,  and  at  night ; 
whereas  men's  callings  and  natural  necessi- 
ties and  employments,  allow  them  but  some 
certain  parcel  of  both  for  solemn  prayer.  And 
these  frequent  looks  of  the  hear!  to  Heaven, 
exceedingly  sweeten  and  sanctify  our  other 
t  aiployments,  and  diffuse  somewhat  of  heav- 
t.i  through  all  our  actions.  Solenm  prayer, 
at  fit  limes,  is  a  visiting  of  God  ;  but  this 
were  a  constant  walking  with  him  all  the 
day  long,  a  lodging  wiili  him  in  the  night. 
When  I  awalcr,  says  David,  I  nin  sliU  vil/i 
thee.  Psalm  cxxxix.  18.  And  these  sudden 
darlings  of  the  soul  heavenward,  may  some- 
times have  more  swiftness  and  force  than 
larger  supplications,  having  much  spirit,  as  it 
Were,  contracted  into  them  ;  and  they  would, 
no  doubt,  if  used,  be  answered  with  fiequent 
beams  of  God's  countenance  returned  to  the 
soul,  as  it  were  in  exchange.  For  though 
whole  lifetimes  of  prayer  are  not  worthy  the 
least  of  those,  yet  it  pleases  God  thus  to  keep 
intercourse  with  those  souls  that  love  him, 
and  for  the  ejaculations  of  their  desires  to  him, 
looks  back  on  them,  and  so  they  interchange 
as  it  were  sudden  glances  of  love  that  answer 
one  another.  The  Lord  is  pleased  to  speak 
thus  himself,  and  the  souls  that  know  this 
love  understand  it:  Thou  hast  ravished  my 
heart,  my  sister,  my  spouse,  with  one  of  thine 
eyes.  Cant.  iv.  9.  But  though  such  looks  and 
ejaculations  will  refresh  a  soul  inflamed  with 
the  love  of  G(jd,  yet  it  suffices  not  :  they  must 
have  times  of  largcrand  more  secret  converse 
w'th  their  beloved,  and  particularly  in  the 
exercise  of  solemn,  contitiued  prayer  ;  and,  if 
:ut  short  of  it  at  anv  time,  ibey  will  miss  it 
as  much  as  a  healthful  body  its  accustomed 
repast. 

Bui  it  would  seem,  that  though  there  may 


be  some  reason  for  confession  and  thanksgiv- 
ing, yet,  that  which  hath  most  peculiarly  the 
[  name  of  prayer— petition— is  superfluous  :  he 
who  knows  our  wants  better  than  ourselves, 
and  what  is  fittest  to  bestow  upon  us,  and 
,  forgets  not  all,  what  need  we  put  him  in 
I  mind,  and  follow  him  with  so  many  suits? 
I     This,  indeed,  is  a  strong  reason  against  vain 
:  babblings  in  prayer,  and  imagining  to  be 
J  heard  merely  for  long  continuance  and  mul- 
titude of  words  ;  and  our  Savior  himself  doth 
here  use  it  so,  ver.  8  :  but  withal  he  shows  us 
clearly,  that  it  makes  nothing  against  the  ex- 
ercise of  prayer,  in  that  he  adds  immediately 
upon  these  words,  After  this  manner,  there- 
I  fore,  pray  ye. 

Although  the  Lord  knows  well  our  wants, 
and  doth  according  to  his  own  good  pleasure, 
vet  there  is  for  prayer,  1.  Duty.  2.  Dignity. 
3.  Utility. 

1.  Duty.  We  owe  this  homage  to  God, 
not  only  to  worship  him,  but  particularly  to 
ofler  up  our  supplications,  and  to  acknowl- 
edge him  our  king  and  ruler  of  the  whole 
world,  and  to  testify  our  dependance  upon 
him,  as  the  giver  of  every  good  gift.  It  is  not 
because  he  is  unwilling  and  loath  to  give,  for 
//«  gives  liberally  and  upbraids  none;  yet, 
says  the  apostle  there.  If  any  man  lack  wis- 

j  dom,  let  him  ask  it.  James  i.  5.  So,  of  all 
wants,  that  which  thanksgiving  doth  ac- 
knowledge after  receipt,  supplication  doth  be- 
forehand ;  his  power,  and  truth,  and  good- 

I  ness,  &c.  This  is  his  name  still,  the  God  who 
henreth  prayer,  and  therefore  this  homage  is 
due  to  him,  To  him  shall  all  Jlesh  come.  Ps. 
Ixv.  2. 

2.  Dignity.  This  is  the  honor  of  the  saints, 
that  they  are  admitted  to  so  near  and  frequent 
converse  with  the  great  God,  that  they  do  not 
only  expect  from  him,  but  may  so  frequently 
speak  to  him  of  their  desires  and  wants,  and 
may  pour  out  their  complaints  into  his  bosom. 
Abraham  is  sensible  of  the  greatness  of  this 
privilege,  by  reflecting  upon  the  greatness  of 
his  distance.  Gen.  xviii.  27.  Behold,  J  have 
taken  upon  me  to  speak  unto  the  Lord,  who 
am  but  dust  and  ashes.  It  is  an  unspeakable 
honor  for  dust  and  ashes  to  be  received  into 
such  familiarity  with  the  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth. 

3.  Utility.  [].]  It  quiets  and  eases  the 
heart'  when  it  is  troubled,  to  vent  itself  to 
God.  As  there  is  some  natural  case  in  sighs 
and  tears  (for  otherwise  nature  should  not 
have  been  iuri:ished  with  them,  nor  teach  us 
to  use  them),  they  discharge  some  part  of 
grief,  though  addressed  no  whither,  but  only 
let  out ;  but  more  when  it  is  in  the  presenc 
of  some  entire  friend  ;  so  they  must  be  most 
of  all  easing,  when  they  are  directed  to  God 
in  prayer.  Cor  serenat  et  purs^at  oralio,  ca- 
P'tciusf/ue  rfficil  ad  exripienda  divina  muncra  : 
"Prayer,"  says  Augustine,  "  calms  and  puri- 

j  fies  the  heart,  an^l  renders  it  more  capable  cf 
the  Divine  bene'its."  Mine  eye  poureth  foni 
I  tears  unto  God  says  Job,  Job  xvi.  20  ;  and 


396 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYEK. 


Drtvitl,  \Ti/  sish-ns^  is  not  hid  from  t/icc.  Ps. 
xxxviii.  9.  Cast  t/iy  hiirden  on  the  Lord,  says 
ihc  psaliniyl.  Psaini  Iv.  22.  'l  lie  Lord  calls 
fur  our  bunii'Ds,  would  not  have  us  wrtstle 
with  them  ourselves,  hut  roll  them  over  on 
him.  Now,  ihe  desires  tliat  are  brealiied 
furili  in  prayer,  are,  as  it  were,  the  very  un- 
loadins^  of  the  heart:  each  request  that  goes 
I'ortii,  carries  out  somewhat  ol'  tlie  burden 
with  it,  and  lays  it  on  God.  Phil.  iv.  6.  Be 
careful  in  nothing,  says  the  aposile:  that  were 
a  pleasant  lite  indeed,  if  it  might  he  ;  bui  how 
ehall  that  he  attained  ?  Why,  this  is  the  only 
way,  says  he.  In  all  things  make  your  requests 
known  unto  God.  Tell  iiim  what  are  your  de- 
sires, and  leave  thetn  there  with  him,  and  so 
you  are  sure  to  he  rid  of  all  further  disquieting 
care  of  them.  Try  as  many  ways  as  you  will, 
there  is  no  other  will  free  you,  in  difficulties, 
of  all  perplexing  thoughts,  but  this,  and  this 
will  do  it. 

[2.]  In  it  the  graces  of  the  Spirit  are  exer- 
cised, and  they  gain  by  that,  as  all  liabits  do  ; 
they  are  strengthened  and  increased  by  act- 
ifiii.  Faith,  in  believing  the  promises  ;  and 
that  is  the  very  basis  of  prayer:  it  can  not 
subsist  without  the  support  of  I'aith.  And 
hope  is  raised  up  and  set  on  tiptoe,  (im)»<ioaoo»fr,/, 
to  look  out  for  accomplishmenN  And  love,  it 
is  that  which  delights  it,  to  impart  its  mind 
to  him  on  whom  it  is  set,  and  thus  to  enter- 
tain converse  and  conference  with  him,  and 
all  hours  seem  short  to  it  that  are  thus  spent ; 
and  by  this  it  still  rises  to  a  higher  flame,  it  is 
blown  and  stirred  by  prayer.  The  more  the 
soul  converses  with  God,  doubtless  the  more  it 
loves  him. 

And  this  speaking  your  desires  to  God  in 
prayer,  makes  the  heart  still  more  holy,  in- 
vites it  to  entertain  new  desires,  but  such  as 
It  may  confidently  acquaint  God  withal. 

[3.]  In  relation  to  the  particular  things  de- 
sired, it  not  only  fits  and  disposes  the  heart 
for  receiving  them  as  blessings,  but  withal  it 
is  a  real  means  of  obtainment,  by  reason  of 
God's  own  api)ointment,  and  of  his  promise. 
He  hath  bound  himself  by  his  promises  not  to 
disregard  the  prayers  of  his  people.  His  ear 
is  open  to  their  cry,  says  the  psalmist,  Psalm 
xxxiv.  1.5.  And  the  many  instances  in  Scrip- 
lure,  and  the  experience  of  the  church  in  all 
ages,  bear  witness  to  the  truth  of  these  prom- 
ises. Imminent  judgments  have  been  avert- 
ed, great  armies  conquered,*  and  the  very 
course  of  nature  countermanded,  the  sun  ar- 
rested, by  the  power  of  prayer.  Moses's 
hands  only  held  up  to  heaven,  routed  the 
Amalekites  more  than  all  the  swords  that 
were  drawn  against  them. 

The  goodness  of  God  is  expressed  in  his 
promises  ;  and  these  promises  encourage  pray- 
er :  and  prayer  is  answered  with,  performance  ; 
and  thanksgiving  returns  the  performance  in 
praise  to  God.  Psalm  1.  15.  So,  all  ends 
where  it  began,  in  him  who  is  the  Alpha  and 

*  In  Aiireliii.s'.s  time,  the  lesion  of  the  Christians 
was  called  A-ijayifuiUAn,  the  thundering  legion. 


the  Omega,  the  Beginning  and  the  End  of  aL 
things. 

If  you  would  he  rich  in  all  ijrace,  he  much 
in  prayer.  Conversing  with  God  assimilates 
the  soul  to  liim,  beautifies  it  with  the  beams 
of  his  holiness,  as  Moses's  lace  shined  when 
he  returned  from  the  mount.    It  is  piayer, 

1  that  brings  all  our  supplies  from  heaven  ;  is 
the  virtuous  woman  is  said,  Prov.  xxxi.  14,  to 
be  like  the  merchant's  ships,  she  bringcth  her 
food  from  afar.  Prayer  dra\vs  more  grace 
out  of  God's  hand,  and  subdues  sin  and  the 
powers  of  darkness  :  it  entertains  and  aug- 
ments our  friendsliip  with  God,  raiseth  the 
soul  from  earth,  and  purifies  it  wonderfully. 
Their  experience,  who  liave  any  of  this  kind, 
leacheth  them,  that,  as  they  abate  in  prayer, 
all  their  graces  do  sensibly  weaken.  There- 
fore, when  the  apostle  hath  suited  a  Christian 
with  his  whole  armor,  he  adds  this  to  all, 
Praying  alirays  with  all  prai/er  aiid  svpplica- 

j  tion  in  the  Spirit.  Eph.  vi.  18.  For  this  arms 

;  man  and  his  armor  both,  with  the  strength 
and  protection  of  God:  Armalura  arrnatura 

I  oratio. 

II.  The  form  prescribed  :  After  this  man- 
ner. 

They  who  know  anything  of  their  own 
wants  and  poverty,  and  of  the  bounty  and  ful- 
ness of  God,  can  not  doubt  of  tlie  continual 
usefulness  of  prayer  ;  and  they  who  are  sen- 
sible of  their  own  unskilfulness,  will  acknowl- 
edge,  that,  as  prayer  is  necessary,  so  there  is 
necessity  of  a  direction  how  to  perform  it. 
The  disciples  found  this  in  themselve.5,  when 
they  said.  Lord,  teach  us  to  pray,  as  St.  Luke 
j  hath  it,  where  he  records  this  prayer.  And 
I  our  Savior  here  marks  the  errors  of  hypocrisy 
I  and  babbling  in  prayer,  wliich  are  so  incident 
to  men,  and  tcacheth  his  disciples,  After  this 
manner,  therefore,  pray  ye. 

As  for  prescribing  forms  of  prayer  in  gener- 
al, to  be  bound  to  their  continual  use  in  pri- 
vate or  in  public,  is  nowhere  practised.  Nor 
is  there,  I  conceive,  on  the  other  side,  any- 
thing  in  the  word  of  God,  or  any  solid  reason 
drawn  from  the  word,  to  condemn  their  use. 

There  is,  indeed,  that  inconvenience  ob- 
servable in  their  much  use,  and  leaning  on 
them,  that  they  easily  turn  to  coldness  and 
formality  ;  and  yet,  to  speak  the  truth  of  this, 
it  is  rather  imputable  to  our  dulness  and  want 
of  affection  in  spiritual  things,  than  to  the 
forms  of  prayer  that  are  used.  For  whrreas 
some  may  account  it  mjx,i>  spiritualness  to 
despise  what  they  have  heard  before,  and  to 
desire  continual  variety  in  prayer,  it  seems 
rather  to  he  want  of  spiritualness  that  makes 
that  needful,  for  that  we  find  not  our  »f 
fections  lively  in  that  holy  exercise,  unless 
they  b'-  awaked  and  stirred  by  new  expres- 
si(jns  ;  whereas,  the  soul  that  is  earnest  on 
the  thing  itself  for  itself,  panting  after  tie 
grace  of  God  and  the  pardon  of  sin,  regards 
not  in  what  terms  it  be  uttered,  whetner  new 
or  old  ;  yea,  though  it  be  in  those  words  it 
iath  heard  and  uttered  a  hundred  times,  yet 


exposition'  of  the  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


59'' 


Btill  it  is  new  to  a  spiritual  mind.  And  surely  ' 
the  desires  tiiat  do  move  in  that  constant  way,  1 
have  more  evidence  of  sincerity  and  true  vi^or 
in  them,  than  tiiose  that  depend  upon  new  no- 
tions and  words  to  move  them,  and  can  not 
stir  without  them.  It  may  be,  that  it  is  no 
other  than  a  false  fl.ish  of  temporary  devotion 
that  arises  in  a  mai.'s  heart,  which  comes  by 
the  power  of  ;;ome  movina^  strain  of  prayer 
that  is  new.  But  w  len  confessions  of  sin,  and 
requests  of  pardon,  thouijh  in  never  so  low 
and  accustomed  terms,  carry  his  heart  along 
with  thera  heavenward,  it  is  then  more  sure 
that  the  Spirit  of  God  dwelling'  in  him,  and 
the  sense  of  the  things  themselves,  the  esteem 
of  the  blood  of  Christ  and  the  favor  of  God, ! 
do  move  the  heart,  and  there  is  no  novelty  of  ! 
words  to  help  it.  So,  then,  though  the  Lord  I 
bestows  rich  gifts  upon  some  of  his  servants, 
•  for  his  own  sjlory  and  the  good  of  his  church, 
yet  we  should  beware  that  in  fancying  contin- 
ual variety  in  prayer,  there  be  not  more  of 
the  flesh  than  of  the  spirit,  and  the  head 
working  more  than  the  heart.  It  is  remark- 
able, that,  as  they  that  search  those  things 
observe,  the  words  of  this  prayer  are  (divers 
of  them)  such  as  come  near  the  words  of  such 
petitions  as  were  usual  among  the  Jews, 
ihough  He  in  whom  was  all  fulness  and  wis- 
dom, was  not  scarce  of  matter  and  words;  so 
little  was  novelty  and  variety  considerable  in  > 
prayer,  in  his  esteem.  Mistake  it  not;  the! 
Spirit  of  prayer  hath  not  his  seat  in  the  inven- 
tion, hut  in  the  affection.  In  this  many  de- 
ceive themselves,  in  that  they  think  the  work 
of  this  Spirit  of  prayer  to  he  mainly  in  fur- 
nishing new  supplies  of  thought^  and  words: 
no,  it  is  mainl  in  exciting  the  heart  anew  at 
times  of  prayer,  to  break  forth  itself  in  arden.t 
desires  to  Crod,  whatsoever  the  words  be, 
whether  new  or  old,  yea,  possibly  without 
words  :  and  then  most  powerful  when  it  words 
it  least,  but  vents  in  sighs  and  groans  that  can 
not  be  expressed.  Our  Lord  understands  the 
language  of  these  perfectly,  and  likes  it  best : 
he  knows  and  approves  the  meaning  of  his 
own  Spirit,  and  looks  not  to  the  outward  ap- 1 
pearatice,  the  shell  of  words,  as  men  do.  Roin. 
viii.  27. 

Bui,  to  speak  particularly  of  this  form  that 
is  above  all  exception,  it  is  given  us  as  the 
pattern  and  model  of  all  our  prayers,  and  the 
closer  they  keep  to  it,  the  nearer  thev  resem- 
ble it,  they  are  the  more  approvable.  It  is 
a  Wonder,  then,  how  any  can  scru[)le  the  use 
of  this  prayer  itself.  For,  if  other  prayers  are 
to  be  squared  by  it,  what  R/rbids  to  use  that 
which  is  the  square  and  therefore  pcrfeciest  ? 
If  they  be  good  by  conformity  lo  it,  itself 
raust  he  better.  The  mumbling  of  it  over 
without  understanding  and  affection,  is  in- 
deed no  other  than  a  gross  abuse  of  it,  and  ta- 
king of  the  name  of  Gud  in  vain,  as  all  other 
lifeless  prayer  is.  And  this  is  not  only  the 
popish  abuse  of  it,  but  too  much  our  own  ; 
for  when  we  do  not  both  understand  and  at- 
«utively  mind  what  we  say,  it  is  all  one  to 


us.  though  in  our  own  tongue,  as  if,  with 
them,  we  said  it  in  an  unknown  language.  It 
is  a  foolish,  superstitious  conceit,  to  imagine 
that  the  rattling  over  these  words  is  sufficient 
for  prayer  ;  but  it  is,  on  the  other  side,  a 
weak,  groundless  scruple,  to  doubt  that  the 
use  of  it,  with  spiritual  affection,  is  both  'aw- 
ful and  commendable. 

i  liir,.,,.]  It  is  a  panicle  both  for  the  matter 
and  the  manner  of  prayer. 

\.  The  matter.  This  may  be  our  rule, 
that  whatsoever  we  can  not  reduce  to  some 
part  of  this  prayer,  as  contained  under  it, 
should  be  no  part  of  ours.  If  we  take  not 
heed  to  this,  we  may  abuse  the  throne  of  God 
with  undue  and  unworthy  suits,  and  ask  those 
things  that  it  were  a  punishment  to  give  us. 
Therefore,  Plato  chose  well  that  word.  Give 
us  what  is  good  for  us,  whether  ice  ask  it  or 
not  J  and  what  is  evil  give  us  not,  thojigh  we 
should  desire  it.  Not  to  speak  now  particu- 
larly, we  see  in  the  matter  of  this  prayer  in 
general,  that  spiritual  things  are  to  he  the 
main  of  all  our  prayers  :  and,  in  things  tem- 
poral, not  to  lodge  superfluous,  inordinate  de- 
sires, hut  in  a  moderate  use  to  seek  things 
necessary. 

2.  For  the  manner.  Observe  [1.]  The  or- 
der of  this  prayer,  that  the  soul  put  itself  in 
the  sight  of  God,  and  him  in  its  own  sight, 
begmning,  as  here,  with  due  thoughts  of  the 
rriajesty  of  God,  to  whom  we  pray.  And  this 
is  of  very  great  consequence:  but  more  of 
this  hereafter. 

[2.1  That  the  glory  of  God  is  wholly  pre- 
ferred to  all  our  own  contentment  cjf  what 
kind  soever:  that  is  to  he  the  first-born  and 
stren^'th  of  all  our  desires  ;  and  all  that  we 
seek  for  ourselves,  must  he  in  relation  to  that 
his  glory,  directed  to  it  as  our  highest  scope. 
And  because  we  are  naturally  full  of  self-love, 
and  our  hearts  are  carried  by  it  toward  our 
own  interest,  and  will  he  ready  to  start  aside 
like  deceitful  bows,  and  slip  us  in  our  aiming 
at  that  mark  ;  therefore,  there  be  three  sev- 
eral petitions,  all  of  that  strain,  lo  make 
ihem  steady  and  fixed  toward  it,  to  desire  in 
all  thiui^s,  and  above  all  things,  that  our  God 
rnav  be  glorified. 

[3.]  Brevity;  opposed  to  that  babbling 
which  our  Savior  reproves  and  particularly 
corrects  by  this  form.  The  fault  he  lays  on 
the  heathen,  not  upon  the  Jews,  for  they 
blamed  it  too,  and  their  doctors  spake  against 
it,  alleging  that  place  that  is  very  pertinent, 
Eccl.  V.  2,  where  he  argues  from  our  exceed- 
ing distance  and  tlie  greatness  of  God,  be 
cause  men  use  not  to  entertain  great  persons 
with  long,  empty  discourses.  Know  then, 
before  whom  thou  art  in  prayer,  and  have  so 
much  respect  to  the  majesty  of  God,  as  not 
to  multiply  idle  repetitions,  such  as  wise  men 
can  not  well  endure  :  how  much  less  the  all- 
wise  God  I  Bii  ToXnyia  and  TTi)\v\iiyin  are  here 
put  as  one,  because  the  one  is  the  conseipient 
of  the  other:  where  there  is  much  speaking, 
there  will  be  vain  speaking  and  empty  repe- 


598 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


tilions. *  7«  nnilliludc  of  trordx  there  wanl- 
eth  not  5J/I,  says  SolomDn,  Prov.  x.  19.  And 
we  see  it,  iluit  tliey  who  lay  a  necessity  upon 
.lieniselves  oi'  a  lonir  continuance  and  inan\ 
woids  in  prayer,  as  if  it  were  oilierwise  no 
prayer  at  all,  they  I'all  into  tliis  inconvenience 
of  idle  repeating  ;  and  this  is  most  unheseeni- 
ing  our  access  to  tlie  majesty  of  God,  as  if 
there  were  some  defect  either  in  his  knowl- 
edge, or  in  his  attention  or  aflVction  to  those 
that  seek  hiiu.  Therefore,  though  this  was 
the  common  fault  of  the  heathen,  vet  some 
even  of  them  had  so  much  discerning  as  to 
condeum  this  folly,  and  inveigh  acainst  it,  ac- 
knowledging hoth  the  wisdom  of  God  and  his 
love  to  mankind,  and  that  he  understands  far 
better  what  is  fit  for  us,  than  we  ourselves, 
and  therefore  was  not  to  be  dishonored  with 
idle  tediousness  in  praycr.t 

But  is,  then,  all  length  and  much  continu- 
ance in  prayer,  and  all  redoubling  of  the 
same  request,  reprovable  ?  Surely  not.  Were 
there  nothing  else  to  persuade  us  of  this,  our 
Savior's  own  practice  were  sufficient,  who 
prescribed  this  rule,  and  yet  is  found  to  have 
spent  whole  nights  in  prayer,  and  to  have 
iterated  the  same  request  :  and  doubtless 
^which  can  be  said  of  no  other),  his  example 
is  as  perfect  a  rule  as  his  doctrine. 

This,  then,  briefly,  is  the  fault  here  :  when 
the  long  continuance  and  much  repetition  in 
prayer,  is  alTecied  as  a  thing  of  itself  availa- 
ble:  when  heajiing  on  words,  and  beating 
often  over  the  same  words,  ihouali  the  heart 
bear  them  not  company,  is  judircd  to  be 
■prayer;  and  generally,  whensoever  the  tongue 
outruns  the  affection,  tlien  is  prayer  turned 
into  babbling.  Yea,  though  a  man  use  this 
very  short  form  here  prescribed,  yet  he  may 
commit  this  very  fault  against  which  it  was 
provided,  he  may  babble  in  saying  it;  and  it 
is  to  be  feared,  the  greatest  part  do  so.  Men 
judge,  and  that  rightly,  a  speech  to  be  long 
or  short,  not  so  much  by  the  quantity  of 
words,  as  by  the  sense  :  so  that  a  very  short 
speech  that  is  empty  of  sense,  may  be  called 
Ion?,  and  a  long  one  that  is  full,  and  hath 
nothing  impertinent,  is  truly  short. |  Thus, 
as  men  judge  by  t'le  sense  of  speech,  God 
judgeth  by  the  affection  of  prayer,  which  is 
the  true  sense  of  it  :  so,  the  quality  is  the 
rule  of  the  quantity  with  him.    There  is  no 

firayer  too  long  to  him.  provided  it  be  all  eii- 
ivened  with  affection:  no  idle  repetition, 
where  the  heart  says  every  word  over  again 
as  often,  and  more  often  than  the  ion<rue. 
Tiierefore.  those  repetitions  in  the  Psalms, 
Lord,  hear.  Lord,  incline  thine  ear.  Lord,  at- 
tend, Slc,  were  not  idle  on. this  account: 
God's  own  Spirit  did  dictate  them,  there  was 
not  one  of  them  etnj)iy,  but  came  from  the 

•  Xujoit  rd  T  cinciti  TifAXa  itii!  ni  Katfita — .Soi'HOCr.KS. 

f  Pnucis  vfrhia  rem  ilifiitnm  fa'-itn. 

j  Ahsit  vt  Tnvllifiiqui'iin  ilep'ilem,  qvnndn  vereHHnria 
iituntur,  qnnntiVilip'  sermnmim  multilvdine  ac  prolixi- 
tnte  diranlur.  lirevi'as  e.s/  etiam  in  hiigiimna  oriUione, 
•vi  nihil  iriest  alieni. 


heart  of  the  holy  ])enmen,  full  raughl  with 
I  the  vehemency  of  their  affections.  AimJ  it  is 
:  reported  (if  St.  Augustine,  that  he  prayed  over 
for  a  whole  night,  Norrrim  te,  Donune,  no- 
verini  rnc :  because  his  heart  still  followefl 
the  suit,  all  of  it  was  prayer.  So  that  in  truth 
where  the  matter  is  new,  and  the  words  siil, 
diverse  and  very  rich  in  sense,  yei,  with  (.iod, 
it  may  be  idle  multiplying  of  words,  beciuse 
the  heart  stays  behind  :  and  where  the  same 
Words  are  repeated,  so  that  a  man  seems 
poor  and  mean  in  the  gift  of  jirayer  to  others, 
'  yet,  if  it  be  not  defect  of  affection,  but  the 
abundance  of  it,  as  it  may  be,  that  moves 
often  the  same  request,  it  is  not  empty,  but 
full  of  that  sense  that  the  Searcher  of  hearts 
alone  can  read.  I  had  rather  share  with  that 
publican  in  his  own  words,  and  say  it  often 
over,  as  if  I  had  nothing  else  to  say,  God  be 
be  merciful  to  tne  a  sinner,  saying  it  with 
such  a  heart,  than  the  most  excellent  prayer 
where  the  outside  is  the  better  half 

So,  then,  this  is  the  mistake  of  men,  to 
think  to  make  words  pass  for  prayer  with 
God,  and  to  make  up  what  is  wanting  in- 
wardly with  multitude  of  words  and  long 
continuance  :  a  foolish  compensation,  that 
will  no  way  satisfy  him  who  says.  Above  all, 
my  son,  aire  me  thy  heart  ;  and  no  length 
nor  words  can  supply  the  want  of  that  with 
him.  Yet,  many  do  thus  ;  they  give  large 
measure  of  that  which  is  altogether  worth 
nothing.  As  the  orator  said  of  those  that 
make  a  poor  speech  pass  for  something,  by 
crying  it  out  with  a  loud  voice,  that  they  trere 
I  like  to  those  cripples  irho  ffot  a  horseback  to 
hide  their  baltintr ;  it  is  thus  here.  And  the 
church  of  Rome  hath  it  foriheir  common  shift ; 
they  have  shut  the  heart  out  of  this  emjjloy- 
ment,  where  it  hath  most  interest,  by  pray- 
ing in  an  unknown  tongue  ;  and  this  defect 
i  they  make  uj)  with  long  continuance,  and 
i  repetition  of  paternosters,  with  a  devotion  as 
1  cold  and  dead  as  the  beads  they  drop.  And 
!  so  they  with  their  breviaries,  notwithstand- 
ing their  name,  fall  directly  into  this  foolish, 
heathenish  vanity  of  idle  length  and  repeti- 
tions. 

Thus  do  we  too,  though  we  speak  our  own 
known  language,  when  either  in  secret  or  in 
public  we  suffer  our  hearts  to  rove  in  prayer, 
and  hear  not  ourselves  what  we  are  praying: 
how  then  can  we  expect  that  God  should 
hear  us  ? 

If  the  affection  can  be  brought  to  continue 
in  it,  prayer  in  secret  can  not  he  too  long.  But 
let  us  not  think  it  virtue  enough  thai  t  is  long, 
let  it  ratiier  be  brief  with  strong  bent  of  mind 
thaii  long  without  it  ;*  as  a  small  body  strong 
and  full  of  s|)irits,  is  much  better  than  the 
I  greatest  bulk  that  is  dull  and  spiritless.  And 
;  when  we  pray  in  company,  because  men  can 
not  know  the  temper  of  other  men's  hearts 

I  •  Non  ett  (ut  quidam  putant)  orare  in  miitlitoqvio,s\ 
diiitiiti  nrettir,  aiiud  est  sermo  viullus  atiiid  diiitvrnut 
afferlu.i.    Atis-it  miittn  loquutio,  sed  non  desit  multa  pre- 

I  caiio. — Augustine. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


C99 


usually  a  convenient  medium  between  the 
extremes  of  briefness  and  length,  seems  most 
suitable. 

But,  alas  !  how  few  be  there  who  keep 
constant  waich  over  their  aft'eclions  in  prayer, 
and  endeavor  to  keep  the  heart  bent  to  it 
throughout !    Oh,  how  much  sin  is  commit-  ' 
ted  by  Uv'j  this  way  that  we  observe  not  ' 

This  is  a  great  lesson,  and  requires  still  our 
diligence,  even  all  our  lifetime,  to  learn  it 
better  and  better,  how  to  pray. 

We  have  here  indeed  a  complete  copv,  but 
we  can  not  folldw  it.  He  who  set  it  us,  must 
put  his  Spirit  within  us,  to  lead  our  hand  and 
heart  that  we  may  follow  it,  as  he  here 
shows  how  we  should  pray.  We  are  not 
born  with  this  heart  Jimus  oralores.  And  I 
may  add  other  the  word,  true  of  us,  in  regard  of  j 
our  vanity  oi'mind,  and  the  devices  that  arise  | 
in  il  .  nascimur  jtortce.  Omnis  fictio  cordis,  [ 
Every  fiction  of  the  heart,  &c..  Gen.  vi.  5. 
We  must  have  that  Spirit  of  his,  the  Spirit 
of  prayer,  to  teach  us  effectually,  and  make 
us  learn  this  divine  art  of  prayer,  according 
to  his  rules.  Although  we  are  thus  externally 
taught  by  our  Savior's  doctrines,  yet  unless 
we  be  taught  within  by  the  Spirit,  we  are 
never  the  nearer;  we  know  neither  what  to 
ask,  nor  how  to  ask.  But  that  is  a  happy 
supply,  and  they  may  rejoice  in  it  who  have 
it,  the  Spirit  of  (lod  helpin<;  ihnir  infirmitiex, 
and  makine  intercession  for  them.  Rom.  viii. 
26.  How  should  they  but  sjieed  in  their  suits 
with  God,  who  have  boili  his  own  Sj)irit  in- 
terceding, by  framing  and  inditing  their  peti- 
tions, and  his  own  Son  intercedmg  at  his 
right  h^nd  by  his  merits! 

He  thai  follows  me,  says  our  Savior,  shall  \ 
not  walk  in  darkness.  *  iuhn  viii.  12.  It  is 
safest,  in  all  our  ways,  to  be  led  bv  him, 
particularly  in  our  access  to  the  Father  by 
prayer.  He  leads  us  in  by  his  intercession. 
Through  him  we  have  {Ua<iyioyhv\  access,  or 
TZl]\(;x  adduction.  Eph.  ii.  18.  He  takes  us  by 
the  hand  to  brin<r  us  to  the  throne  of  grace, 
gives  us  his  Spirit  to  frame  our  minds,  and 
leach  us  with  what  disposition  to  i)ray.  Here 
he  leads  us,  by  (luiting  words  in  our  mouths, 
and  furnishing  us  what  to  say.  Consider, 

I.  The  preface  or  corn[)eriation.  II.  The 
petitions.  Ilf.  The  conclusion.  j 
Ey  the  preface,  we  are  in  general  taught 
this,  ere  we  consider  particularly  the  words 
of  it :  I.  To  endeavor  to  have  right  thou£:hts  | 
and  apprehensions  of  God,  on  whom  we  call. 
2.  At  our  entry  or  beginning  lo  pray,  to  set 
ourselves  before  hinj,  and  him  before  our 
own  sight ;  to  have  the  eye  o(  our  mind  set 
on  that  Deity  we  worship.  This  would  do 
much  to  the  curing  of  that  common  disease 
of  our  prayers,  the  wandering  and  roving  of 
our  minds:  an  evil  that  ihey  can  not  but  be 
sensible  of,  and  often  bewail,  who  take  any 
notice  of  iheir  own  inward  carriaire  with 
God,  who  trace  their  own  hearts,  and  ask  ac- 
count of  their  behavior  in  pravcr.*  Oh, ' 
•  Xihii  est  in  nobis  crde  fuifiitius.  GREOokr. 


light,  inconstant  hearts!  may  th.-'V  ^ay  :  as 
the  Latin  reads  that,  Fsalin  xl.  12,  Cnr  meur>. 
I  dere/ii/uit  me.    How  many  regard  them  not 
at  all  !    But  they  who  do,  find  it  their  ordi- 
nary trick  to  give  them  the  slip.    And  this  ir 
one  great  cause  ol'  our  wanderings,  that  we 
do  not,  at  our  entrance  to  prayer,  compos, 
ourselves  to  due  thoughts  of  God,  and  s<?i 
ourselves  in  his  presence  :  this  would  domuc* 
to  awe  us,  and  ballast  our  minds,  that  the) 
tumble  not  to  and  fro,  as  is  their  custorr*. 
There  be  not  many  that  do,  but  it  wouh' 
prove  no  doubt  much  help,  would  we  tasb 
ourselves  to  this,  never  to  open  our  mouths  tti 
God,  till  the  eye  of  our  soul  w^re  fixed  upoi 
him,  and  taken  up  with  the  considering  ol 
his  presence.    But  of  this  more  when  w«' 
come  to  those  words.  Who  art  tn  heaven. 

Our  Father  tvhich  art  in  heaven.^  Ou 
Father — -the  mercy  of  God  is  in  this,  to  be 
get  in  us  the  confidence  of  faith  ;  in  the  oth 
er.  Which  art  in  heaven,  the  majesty  of  Got 
to  work  us  to  reverence:  ihough  there  is 
somewhat  in  the  word  Father,  likewise,  to 
persuade  reverence,  and  something  in  the 
other  that  confirms  faith  (but  more  of  this 
hereafter) ;  yei,  if  we  take  that  which  ap- 
])ears  most,  and  is  predominant,  the  former 
mainly  supports  faith,  and  the  latt(!r  begets 
humility. 

The  frame  of  it  is  extensive;  not  My  Fa- 
ther, but  our  Father,  and  so  throughout.  Be- 
sides that  it  was  a  pattern  both  for  public 
and  private  jjrayer,  and  so  it  was  fittest  to 
run  in  the  larger  and  public  style,  it  doih,  no 
doubt,  as  all  have  taken  it,  teach  the  cliari» 
table  extension  of  our  prayers,  where  they 
are  most  private,  lo  lake  in  with  our  own  the 
good  of  others,  and  when  we  are  busiest  and 
most  particularly  dealing  for  ourselves,  yet, 
not  to  shut  out  our  brethren.  Let  the  place 
and  performance  of  secret  i)rayer  be  as  pri- 
vate as  may  be.  but  the  strain  and  supplica- 
tions public,  as  well  as  personal.  The  most 
privaie  prayer  of  the  godly  is  a  public  good, 
and  he  loses  uoihiiig  by  that  ;  for,  besides 
that  his  particular  interest  is  not  hindered  by 
taking  in  others,  he  hath  this  gain,  that  by 
the  same  reason  he  likewise  hath  a  share  in 
all  the  prayers  of  others.  And  this(lhough 
little  considered  by  the  most)  is  one  point, 
and  not  a  small  one,  but  a  very  jjrofitable 
and  comfortable  point  of  that  article  of  our 
faith.  The  conunumou  of  saints,  that  every 
believer  hath  a  share  in  all  the  prayers  of  all 
ih*  rest:  he  is  partner  in  every  shi|)  of  that 
kind  that  sets  to  sea,  and  hath  a  portion  of 
all  their  gainful  voyages. 

But  he  that  in  prayer  minds  none  but  him- 
self, douliiless  he  is  not  right  in  minding 
himself.  Howsoever,  this  he  may  be  sure  of, 
that  in  keeping  out  others  from  his  prayers, 
he  bars  himself  from  the  benefit  of  all  others 
jirayers  likewise.  Si  yro  te  solo  oras,  pro  te 
solus  oras:  If  thou  prayest  for  thyself  alone, 
thou  alone  prayest  for  tlivs^lf,  says  St.  Am- 
brose.    So  that  self-love  itself  may  here 


600 


EXPOSITION  3F  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


plead  fur  love  to  our  brelhren.  Forj^ot  not 
the  church  of  God,  and  to  seek  the  jrood  of 
Zion,  it  is  not  only  your  duty,  but  vour  bene- 
fit. Are  you  not  all  concerned  in  it,  if  in- 
deed you  he  jiaris  of  thai  mystical  hodv  ? 
And  il  hinders  not  at  all,  hut  rather  advan- 
ces your  personal  suits  at  God's  hands,  when 
he  sees  your  K>ve  to  your  bretliren,  and  de- 
sires for  the  church's  jjood.  Let  not,  there- 
fore, any  estate,  no  private  perplexity  or  dis- 
tress, nor  very  sorrow  for  sin,  lake  you  so  up, 
as  to  be  all  for  yourselves  :  let  others,  but 
especially  the  i)ublic  condition  of  tlie  church 
of  God,  iind  room  with  you.  We  find  it  thus 
with  David  ;  when  he  was  lameniinir  his  own 
case,  Psalm  li.  IS,  and  Psalm  xxv.  ult..  and 
elsewhere  he  forgets  not  the  church  :  In  thy 
good  pleasure  do  !rood  to  Zion,  and  build  v/p 
the  walls  of  Jerusalem.  So  then,  let  this  be 
the  constant  tenor  of  your  pravers,  even  in 
secret.  When  thou  prayest  alone,  shut  thy 
door,  says  our  Savior  here,  shut  out  as  much 
as  thou  canst  the  sight  and  noiice  of  others, 
but  shut  not  out  the  interest  and  good  of 
others;  say,  Onr  Father:  as  the  heathen 
call  their  God,  Zci  n.irrp. 

Father.]  He  is  indeed  our  Father  (Tofi  yap 
Koii  yt'uos  ia^icv,  Acts  xvii.  28),  as  the  author 
pf  our  being,  beyond  all  the  visible  creatures. 
He  breathed  upou  man  the  breath  of  life. 
But  the  privilege  of  this  our  natural  relation, 
the  sin  of  our  nature  hath  made  fruitless  and 
comfortless  to  us,  till  we  be  restored  bv  grace, 
and  made  partakers  of  a  newsonship:  we 
are  indeed  liie  workmanship  of  God,  but,  be- 
ing defaced  by  sin,  and  considered  in  that  es- 
tate, our  true  name  is,  children  of  wrath. 

But  the  sonship  that  emboldens  us  to  draw 
near  unto  God  as  our  Father,  is  derived  from 
his  only  begotlen  Son.  He  became  the  son 
of  man,  to  make  Us  anew  the  sons  of  God. 
Being  thus  restored,  we  may  indeed  look 
back  upon  our  creation,  and  draw  out  of  it, 
to  use  in  prayer  with  God,  that  we  are  his 
creatures,  the  workmanship  of  his  hands, 
and  he  in  that  sense  our  Father.  But,  by 
reason  of  our  rebellion,  t  is  argument  is  not 
strong  enough  alone,  bu  must  be  supported 
with  tills  other,  as  the  mam  ground  of  our 
comfort,  that  wherein  the  strength  of  our 
confidence  lies,  that  he  Is  our  Father  in  his 
Son  Ciirist  :  that  by  faith  we  are  invested  into 
a  new  sonshi|),  and  by  virtue  of  that  may  call 
him  Father,  and  move  him  bv  that  name  to 
help  and  answer  us.  John  i.  12.  To  as  many 
as  received  him,  he  <rave  po>rer  to  become  the 
sons  of  God.  Our  adoption  holds  in  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  head  of  this  fraternity;  there- 
fore he  says,  J  go  to  my  Father  a?id  your  Fa- 
ther, to  my  God  and  ynur  God.  John  xx.  17. 
He  says  not,  To  our  Father  and  our  God,  hut 
severally,  mine  and  yours  ;  teaching  us  the 
order  of  the  new  covenant,  that  the  sonship 
•jt  Jesus  Christ  is  not  only  more  eminent  in 
nature,  but  in  order,  is  the  sfiriiig  and  cause 
of  ours,  as  St.  Cyril  well  observe*.  So  then, 
be  that  here  puts  this  word  in  our  mouths, 


to  call  God  Father,  he  it  is  by  whom  we 
have  this  dignity  and  comfort  that  we  cal" 
him  so. 

Hut  this  adoption  is  accompanied  (that  we 
think  it  not  a  naked,  external  name)  with  a 
real  change,  and  so  great  a  change  that  it 
bears  the  name  of  that  which  is  the  real 
ground  of  sonship  ;  it  is  called  regeneration. 
And  these  are  inseparable.  There  be  no  sons 
of  (jod  by  adoption,  but  such  as  are  withal 
his  sons  by  regeneration  and  new  birth.  There 
is  a  new  life  breathed  into  them  from  God. 
He  is  not  only  the  Father  of  Spirits,  by  their 
firsl  infusion  into  the  body,  and  enlivening  it 
by  them,  but  by  this  new  infusion  of  grace 
into  the  souls  of  men  (as  it  seems  to  signify 
there,  Heb.  xii.  9,  where  he  is  speaking  of 
spiritual  sons),  and  enlivening  them  by  it, 
which  were  dead  without  it,  as  the  body  is 
without  them.  And  the  Spirit  of  God  re- 
newing them,  is  the  Spirit  of  adoption,  by 
which  they  cry,  Abba  Father.  Rom.  viii.  15. 
i  He  gives  them  a  supernatural  life  by  this 
Spirit  sent  into  their  beans;  and  the  Spirit, 
by  that  regeneration  which  he  works,  ascer- 
tains them  of  that  adoption  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus;  and  in  the  persuasion  of  both, 
they  call  upon  God  as  their  Father. 

So  then,  you  who  would  have  this  confi- 
dence in  approaching  to  God,  to  call  him  Fa- 
ther, lay  hold  on  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  fountain 
of  sonship.  Offer  not  to  come  unto  God  but 
through  him,  and  rest  not  satisfied  with  your- 
selves, nor  your  prayers,  till  you  find  some 
evidence  that  you  are  in  htm.  And  know, 
that  there  is  no  evidence  of  your  portion  in 
the  Son,  but  by  the  Spirit  ;  .herefore  called 
the  Spirit  of  the  Son,  by  which  we  call  God 
Father.  Gal.  iv.  6.  ^ee  whether  the  Spirit 
of  God  dwells  and  rules  in  your  hearts.  For 
they  that  have  not  the  Spirit  of  God,  are  none 
of  his,  says  the  apostle  ;  hut,  in  the  same 
chapter,  he  assures  you,  that  As  many  as  are 
led  by  the  Spii-it  of  God  they  are  undoubtedly 
the  sons  of  God,  Rom.  viii.  9,  14.  If  you  then 
call  on  the  name  of  God,  and  particularly  by 
this  name.  Our  Father,  depart  i'roin  iniquity. 
Be  ashamed  to  preiend  to  be  his  sons,  and  yet 
be  so  unlike  him,  wallowing  in  sin:  it  can 
not  be,  that  the  sons  of  so  holy  a  God  can  be 
altogether  unholy,  and  delight  to  be  so:  no, 
though  they  can  not  he  perfectly  free  from 
impurity,  yet,  they  who  are  indeed  his  chil- 
dren, do  certainly  hate  impurity,  because  he 
hates  it. 

Do  you  draw  near  unto  God  in  his  Son 
Christ  ?  Do  you  give  yourselves  up  to  baled 
by  his  Spirit  ?  Then  you  may  account  and 
call  him  your  Father.  And  if  you  may  use 
this  word,  there  is  abundance  of  sweetness 
in  it :  it  is  a  spring  of  comfort  that  can  not 
run  dry.  And  it  hath  influence  into  all  the 
petitions  ;  as  likewise  the  other  word,  ic/ncA 
art  in  hearen  ;  Thou  who  art  so  great  and  so 
good.  Whose  name  and  whose  kingdonj 
should  we  desire  to  be  advanced  so  much  a? 
our  own  Father's,  our  heavenly  Father  ?  And 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


601 


whose  wil  to  be  obeyed  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven  ?  Of  \vhc~.  should  we  seek  our  daily 
bread,  but  of  our  Father  ?  And  especially, 
so  rich  a  Faiher,  possessor  of  heaven  and 
earth  !  And  forgiveness  we  may  ask  of  our 
gracious  Faiher,  and  conduct,  and  protection. 
In  the  hardest  condition  ihat  can  befall  you, 
ye  may  come  to  your  Father:  all  the  world 
can  not  bar  your  access.  And  there  is  no  | 
child  may  go  to  his  father  with  any  suit,  with 
more  confidence  than  you  may  to  your  Fa- 
ther ;  and  if  there  be  mercy  and  power  enough 
in  God,  thou  canst  not  miss  of  help.  He  hath 
the  bowels  of  a  Father.  Psalm  ciii.  13.  Yea, 
says  our  Savior,  Can  you  that  are  evil  give 
your  children  good  things  ?  How  much  more 
tviU  your  heavenly  Father  give  good  things  to 
them  who  ask  him  !  Matt.  vii.  11.  The  love 
of  parents  to  their  children,  they  have  from 
hiin  :  He  hath  given  it  to  nature,  so,  it  is  but 
a  drop  to  the  ocean  of  fatherly  love  that  is  in 
himself.  Ante  petitionem  magnum  accepimus, 
ut  possimus  dicere,  pater  :  <juid  enim  jam  non 
del  filiis  petentihus  pater,  qui  jam  hoc  ipsum 
dedit  ut  essent  Jihi  ?  [Augustine.]  Let  not, 
then,  unworthiness  scare  his  children.  Pa-  { 
rents  love  their  children,  and  do  them  good, 
not  because  they  see  they  are  more  worthy 
than  others,  for  it  may  be  far  otherwise,  but ; 
because  they  are  their  own.  { 

Yea,  though  we  have  run  astray  from  him, 
and  forgotten  very  far  the  duty  of  children, 
yet  he  can  not  forget  the  love  of  a  Father  ; 
and  our  best  is,  to  return  to  him.  It  can  not 
be  well  with  us,  so  long  as  we  go  any  whither 
else.  The  prodigal  found  it  so,  and  therefore, 
though  he  was  convinced  of  that,  that  he  was 
unworthi/  to  be  called  his  son,  yet  he  resolves  ; 
to  return,  Iiuill  go  lo  my  father.  Yea,  though 
to  thy  sense  he  should  seem  to  reject  thee, 
yet,  let  not  go  this  hold.  If  thou  hast  but  a 
desire  to  believe  in  him  and  love  him,  though 
thou  canst  (ind  no  more,  and  even  while  thou  : 
doubtest  whether  he  is  thy  Father  or  no,  yet, 
press  him  with  the  name,  call  him  Father, 
speak  to  him  as  thy  Father  ;  Jesus,  his  Son, 
ill  whom  he  is  xvell  pleased,  doth  warrant 
thee.  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  lutll  I  trust  in  \ 
him,  says  Job  :  so  resolve  thou,  though  thou 
sawest  his  hand,  as  it  were,  ready  to  throw 
thee  into  hell,  yet,  cry  to  him  slill,  and  use  this 
very  name.  Father,  reject  me  not.  Never  any 
perished  with  such  a  purpose. 

Who  art  iji  heaven.] 

Serve  the  Lord  with  fear  and  rejoice  with 
trembling.  Psalm  ii.  11.  This  compellation 
tak(;n  together, and  rightly  understood,  works 
that  due  temper  of  prayer,  the  mixture  of 
these  {wo,  joy,  and  fear,  confidence  and  rever-  , 
eice.  There  was  some  such  thing  spoken  of  I 
Augustus,  but  it  is  most  true  of  the  Divine 
Majesty,  that  they  who  dare  speak  rashly 
to  him,  know  noi  his  greatness,  and  they 
who  dare  not  sjieak  to  hirii,  provided  it  be 
with  due  reverence  and  respect,  know  not  his 
Pfoodness.  } 

Tliat  we  all  invoke  one  Father,  teaches 
76 


that  new  law  of  love  to  one  anothei  which 
our  Savior,  the  author  of  this  prayer,  so  often 
recommends,  and  makes  the  very  badge  of 
his  disciples.  It  serves  to  comfort  the  mean- 
est, and  to  abate  the  loftiness  of  the  greatest 
who  pray  thus,  as  St.  Augustine  well  observes, 
that  they  all  meet  and  agre-e  in  this:  the 
greatest  kings,  and  their  meanest  subjects, 
all  must  speak  to  God  as  their  Father,  not 
only  all  alike  having  their  being  from  him  as 
the  Father  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh,  but  the 
same  adoption  belonging  unto  all,  high  and 
low,  that  are  believers.  All  the  pomp  and 
command  and  pleasures  of  princes  can  not 
make  them  happy  without  this  grace  of  adop- 
tion ;  and  no  outward  baseness  prejudges  any, 
but  they  may  be  happy  by  partaking  of  it. 
In  this,  likewise,  is  very  clear  our  lesson  of 
love  to  God,  because  our  Father.  For  though 
(as  they  say)  love  doth  descend  much  more 
than  it  ascends,  and  it  is  here  most  of  all 
verified,  yet  it  doth  ascend  from  the  children 
to  their  parents  by  way  of  refiection,  especial- 
ly from  the  sons  of  God  to  him  as  a  Father, 
who  is  love  itself.  And  as  this  name  draws 
the  soul  to  the  throne  of  grace  with  assured 
expectation  of  mercy,  so  it  commands  withal 
(as  We  said),  honor  and  reverence  ;  especially, 
being  accompanied  with  this  other  word 
that  mainly  enforces  that  [6  £>>  toU  oipupois,] 
In  the  heavens  ;  answering  the  Hebrew  word, 
which  is  plural,  and  siijnify  ing  that  the  glori- 
ous God  is  above  all  the  visible  heavens. 
And  thus  the  profane  authors  speak  of  God 

likewise,  jjrtprara  iuiftara  vaiuii/. 

We  know,  althouirh  we  are  guilty  of  much 
forgetting  it,  that  the  Lord  is  everywhere 
present,  neither  excluded  nor  included  any- 
where  ;  that  he  fills  all  places,  not  as  con- 
tained in  them,  but  as  containing  them,  and 
upholding  them,  and  all  things  in  them.  But 
he  is  tn  heaven  after  a  special  manner,  in  the 
brightest  manifestion  of  himself,  and  as  the 
purest  service  is  performed  to  him  there. 
They  can  not  contain  him,  as  St^lomon  ex- 
presses it,  1  Kings  viii.  27  ;  yet,  his  throne  is 
there,  there  he  dwells,  as  in  his  principal 
palace,  in  greatest  majesty,  as  David  teacheth 
us.  Psalm  xi.  4, and  often  elsewhere.  But  that 
he  is  not  shut  up  there, and  rcgardlessof  things 
below,  we  learn  in  that  same  place  :  for  he 
adds,  His  eyes  behold,  and  his  eyelids  try  the 
children  of  men. 

This  is  added  first,  for  distinction.  As  the 
apostle  differencing  him,  from  the  fathers  of 
our  flesh,  Heb.  xii.  9,  calls  him.  The  Father 
of  Spirits,  so  here  to  distinguish  him  from 
earthly  fathers,  he  is  styled,  Our  heavenly 
Faiher. 

Observe.  We  can  not  here  know  God  ac- 
cording to  what  he  is  in  himself,  and  there- 
fore he  is  described  to  our  cajiacity,  and  to 
our  profit,  so  as  we  are  able,  and  as  it  most 
Concerns  us  to  know  him  here  ;  by  his  graci- 
ous relation  to  us  as  our  Father,  and  by  the 
excellency  of  his  dwelling,  as  a  sign  of  his 
greatness,  that  he  is  in  heaven;  both  which 


602 


EXPOSn  ION  OF  TUE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


■re  extrinsical  to  his  essence.  But  thus  we 
may  learn  thus  much,  to  worship  and  h)ve 
him,  as  ilie  hest  and  the  greatest,  infinitely 
exceeding:  all  that  we  can  conceive  of  him. 

As  it  is  for  dislinclion,  sc),  it  is  sucli  a  word 
of  dilVerence  as  is  of  excellent  use. 

1.  To  make  the  soul  limnble  and  reverend 
in  approaching  loGi  d  in  praver.  Tf  wecon-| 
Eider  ii,  shall  we  not  be  wary  liow  we  behave 
ourselves  in  the  presence  of  so  2;reai  a  king  ? 
It  is  very  strange,  that  our  souls  should  not  be 
possessed  with  the  deepest  lowliness  and  self- 
ahaseineni  in  the  sight  ol  God  ;  worms  in  the 
dust  belbre  the  majesty  that  dwells  in  heaven. 
This  Solomon  expresses:  He  is  in  heaven,  and 
thou  on  earfh,  therefore  let  thy  words  he  few. 
What  is  this  we  find  in  ourselves,  that  makes 
us  so  drunk  with  self-conceit,  not  only  in  con- 
verse one  with  another,  but  with  God?  Sure- 
ly, we  know  liim  not  ;  at  least,  we  consider 
not  who  he  is,  and  where  he  dwells,  and  who 
we  are,  and  where  we  dwell.  Surely,  it  I 
would  lay  us  low,  if  when  we  come  before  [ 
God,  we  would  consider  him  as  the  most  i 
glorious  king,  sitting  on  his  throne,  and  com- 
passed with  glorious  spirits,  who  ofi'er  him 
spotless  praises,  and  we  ourselves  coming 
before  him,  as  base  frogs  creeping  out  of  our 
pond,  where  we  dwell  amidst  the  mire  of  sin- 
ful pollutions.  1 

Thus,  indeed,  his  highness  should  humble 
us  in  coming,  but  it  should  not  affright  us 
from  coming  before  him  ;  for  though  he  is  in 
lieaven  and  we  on  earth,  yet,  he  is  our  Fa- 
ther. Thus  ought  we  to  join  these  two,  and 
to  behold  them  jointly,  that  we  may  have 
tiiat  right  posture  of  mind  by  them  which 
suits  with  prayer — Iiumlile  boldness.  | 

There  may  be  undue  distrust,  but  there  can 
not  be  too  much  humility  of  spirit,  in  prayer. 
The  more  humble,  the  filter  to  come  to  God  ; 
and  he  the  more  willing  to  come  into  the  soul, 
and  dwell  in  it.  For  that  is  the  other  house 
that  he  haiii  chosen.  They  seem  very  ill  suit- 
ed together:  if  the  highest  h-'vens  be  the 
Lord's  own  dwelling,  it  would  seem  fit  that 
the  other  should  he  the  richest  palaces  on 
earth,  or  siately-buill  temples.  No,  the  other 
is  such  a  one  as  we  most  despise,  but  God 
prefers  before  all  other,  even  the  most  sumj)- 
tuous  building.  Isa.  Ivii.  15.  Thvs  saith  the 
hi^h  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity.  I 
whose  name  is  holy  ;  I  dv  ell  in  the  high  and 
holy  place  ;  with  htm  also  (a  strange  also  .')  \ 
that  IS  of  a  broken  and  humble  spirit.  The 
highest  heavensare  the  habitation  of  his  glory, 
»nd  the  humble  heart  hath  the  next  honor,  to 
be  the  habitation  of  his  grace.  | 

2,  As  the  word  humbles  the  soul  in  God's 
B'.ght,  so  it  elevates  it  to  heaven  where  Gr.d 
dwells,  and  fixes  it  there  in  prayer.  And  this 
elevation  is  not  contrary  to  humility  :  the  soul 
that  is  laid  lowest  in  itself,  is  most  sublime 
in  converse  with  God,  Sublimifer  hvmilis  el 
h'lTmlitcr  sublimis.  [Cvpiman.]  And  thus 
ought  our  hearts  to  ascend  in  prayer,  which, 
elas,  we  usually  suffer  to  lag  and  draw  the  , 


wing  heavily  on  the  oarih.  Unto  thee,  0 
Lord ,  says  the  psalmist,  do  I  lift  up  my  soul. 
Psalm  XXV.  1.  That  is  the  right  and  natural 
motion  of  prayer.  But  there  is  another  lifting 
up  that  our  souls  aie  .ttter  acquainted  with, 
which  is  spoken  of  in  "he  psalm  immediately 
foregoing,  the  lifting  vp  of  the  soul  unto  varii- 
ii/;  and  the  more  so  lift  up,  the  farther  off 
I'rom  God.  0  the  vainness  of  our  hear'sl 
And  how  hard  is  it  to  establish  them  on  hira 
who  dwells  on  high  !  Even  while  we  are 
speaking  to  him,  we  suffer  them  to  break 
loose  and  rove,  and  to  entertain  foolish 
thoughts.  We  would  not  use  a  king  or  great 
person  so,  nor  any  man  whom  we  respect, 
when  we  are  sjieaking  to  him  seriously,  to 
intermix  impertinences,  and  forget  what  we 
are  a  saying.  But  we  dare  offer  gross  non- 
sense to  the  all-wise  God  :  though  the  words 
go  on  in  good  sense,  yet  the  prayer  is  so  to 
him,  when  the  heart  intermixes  vain  thoughts 
— Pfllum  terr(e  miscet,  confuses  and  spoils  all. 
And  this  is  the  great  task  as  we  have  said,  to 
bring  the  heart  before  God,  to  set  it  on  hia 
holy  mountain  in  heaven,  while  we  pray  (it 
sht'uld  be  so  certainly),  and-  leave  servile, 
earthly  thoughts  at  the  foot  of  the  mount. 

3.  It  gives  confidence.  [1.]  Of  the  power 
of  God,  his  rich  ability  to  grant  all  our  re- 
quests. He,  that  Lord  oi'all,  and  as  greatest  ^ 
possessor,  hath  his  throne  in  the  highest 
heavens,  and  doth  what  pleaseth  him  in 
heaven  and  in  earth  ;  this,  with  the  other 
completes  our  comfort :  good-will  and  poiver 
—our  Father  in  heaven.  And  this  we  may 
apply  to  all  our  wants,  for  assurance  of  sup- 
ply,  and  to  all  our  enemies,  and  the  church's 
enemies,  that  our  prayer  shall  be  heard  for 
their  foil  and  disappointment.  He  sits  in 
heaven  and  laughs.  Psalm  ii.  4.  They  rage, 
and  tumult,  and  consult  ;  a  great  bustle  and 
noise  they  keep  ;  and  he  sits  and  laughs  at 
them.  He  scorns  all  their  proud  attempts, 
for  that  with  ease  he  can  scatter  them  in  a 
moment :  one  word  of  his  mouth  overturns 
them  and  all  their  contrivances. 

[2.]  It  is  a  confirmation  of  our  portion  in 
heaven.  If  he  who  is  in  heaven  be  ovr  Fa- 
ther, then,  our  inheritance  lies  there,  in  that 
land  of  peace  where  it  can  not  he  lost  or  im- 
paired, and  he  will  bring  his  children  to  the 
possession  of  it.  To  be  the  sons  of  God,  is  not 
a  style  without  an  estate,  an  empty  title.  No, 
he  who  makes  us  sons,  makes  us  heirs  like- 
wise: sons,  we  are,  in  Christ,  and  co-heirs 
with  Christ.  Rom.  viii.  17.  He  came  down  to 
earth  for  this  purpose,  tomake  a  new  purchase 
of  heaven  for  us;  and  he  is  returned  thitheJ 
to  prepare  it  for  us.  /  go  to  prepare  a  place 
for  you,  that  where  1  am,  ye  may  he  also. 
John  xiv.  2. 

Hallowed  he  thy  name.]     The  sense 
many  wants  and  necessities,  drives  a  Christian 
daily  to  God  in  prayer;  yet,  certainly,  tl  : 
which  draws  him  most  strongly  to  it,  is  of 
higher  nature,  the  sense  of  his  duty  to  God 
and  the  delight  he  hath  to  do  that  homag* 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


603 


and  honor  tc  him.  And  therefore,  in  prayer, 
the  main  cuirent  of  his  heart  runs  that  way, 
and  so  agrees  wiih  this  pattern  given  us  by 
our  Savior  :  wherein  w^e  see  clearly,  that  our 
prime  desires  are  to  be  bestowed  on  the  glory 
of  God.  And  that  is  placed  first,  not  only  as 
it  is  to  be  preferred  before  all  other  suits,  but 
as  it  is  .to  be  regarded  still  in  all  the  rest, 
and  ihey  all  referred  lo  it.  And  to  make  the 
impression  of  this  desire  the  deeper  on  our 
hearts,  and  to  give  the  fuller  vent  of  it  in  ex- 
pression to  them  who  have  it,  there  are,  you 
see,  three  of  these  six  petitions  spent  on  it. 
This  is  the  first  of  them,  Halloived  be  ihy 
nnme..  This  suits  well  with  the  style  here 
given  to  God  Our  Father.  If  I  be  a  Father, 
■where  is  my  honor?  says  the  Lord  by  his 
prophet,  Mai  i.  6.  And  here,  his  children 
are  taught  to  join  these  two  together  :  Thou 
art  our  Father,  and  so  glorious  a  Father, 
dicelJing  t7i  heaven  ;  therefore  our  desire  is 
that  thou  mayest  have  honor,  that  thy  name 
may  be  hnllownd,  and  Thy  kingdom  come. 
We  will  inquire, 

1.  What  is  meant  by  his  name.  2.  What 
is  the  hallowing  or  sanctifying  of  it.  3.  What 
the  petition  itself  is. 

1.  Briefly  his  name  is.  Himself  as  he  is 
made  known  to  us,  and  conceivable  by  us, 
and  differenced  from  all  other  beings,  as  men 
are  by  their  names  one  from  another.  For 
to  this  [)ur[)ose  are  all  these  several  names 
and  attributes  given  him,  which  we  find  in 
scri[)iure,  that  we  may  so  conceive  of  him- 
self as  here  we  are  capable. 

2.  To  sanctify  his  name,  we  know,  can  not 
oe  to  infuse  holiness  into  it,  or  effectually  to 
make  it  holy  ;  for  neither  can  we  so  make 
anything  holy,  nor  can  the  name  of  God  be 
so  made  holy,  for  it  is  most  holy  of  itself,  yea, 
he  is  h(j|niess  itself,  and  the  fountain  of  all 
holiness.  Rut  according  to  the  double  sense 
of  the  word  b/r/ss/rifr  as  mutual  between  God 
and  man,  so  is  this  of  .sanctifying.  Blessed, 
says  the  apostle,  be  the  God  and  Father  of 
our  Lord  Jesuf  Christ,  who  hath  blessed  us 
with  all  spiritual  blessings.  Ejjh.  i.  3.  His 
henrdicere,  is  bencfacere.  He  blesseth  us 
really,  as  the  giver  of  all  blessings  and  of 
blessedness  itself:  and  our  blessing  him  is  no 
other  than  the  acknowledging  of  (his,  that  it 
is  he  who  Idesseih  us,  and  [iraising  hitn  fur  it. 
Thus  he  sanctifies  us,  makes  us  holy,  purifies 
us  by  his  Spirit  from  our  natural  linholiness 
and  filthiness  ac(;ording  lo  his  promise  (Ezek. 
xxxvi.  2.5),  and  according  to  our  Savior's 
prayer  (.lohn  xvii.  17)  ;  and  we  sanctify  the 
Lord  and  his  name  (as  liere,  and  Isaiah'  viii. 
13),  when  we  know  and  acknowledge  that 
he  is  holy,  and  use  his  nnrne  holily.  And 
thus,  they  only  sanctify,  who  affectionately 
pray  thus,  that  his  name  may  be  sanctified, 
whose  hearts  he  hath  first  sanctified  and 
made  tliei/i  holy. 

l\Iore  particularly  and  distinctly,  the  sauc- 
tifying  of  God's  name  hath  in  it  these  things. 
fL]  To  have  right  ihough's  of  the  holiness; 


\  and  majesty  of  God.  [2  J  That,  upon  so  con- 
ceiving of  him,  our  hearts  be  reverently  af 
fected  toward  him.  [3.]  Not  only  to  have 
that  due  apprehension  and  reverence  of  his 
holiness  in  the  habit,  and  so  let  it  lie  dead 
within  us,  but  often  to  stir  up  ourselves  to  the 
remembrance  and  consideration  of  it,  to  call 
in  our  thoughts  to  act  about  it:  so,  this  will 
increase  our  knowledge  and  reverence  (as  all 
:  habits  grow  by  acting),  and  will  excite  the 
I  soni  to  praise  him,  as  the  psalmist  speaks, 
I  Give  thanks  at  the  remembrance  of  his  holt- 
!  ness.  [4.]  The  declaring  and  extolling  of  his 
holiness,  speaking  upon  all  seasonable  occa- 
sions, honorably  of  his  name.  [5.]  The  humble 
sense  and  acknowledgment  of  our  own  unho- 
liness  in  his  presetice  :  and  therefore,  all  those 
lowly  confessions  of  sins  and  of  their  own  un- 
worthiness,  that  we  find  in  the  prayers  of  the 
prophets,  are  so  many  iiallowings  of  the 
name  of  God,  giving  the  glory  of  holiness  to 
him  alone,  and  taking  the  shame  of  their 
own  pollutions.  Thus,  Dan.  ix.,  Isa.  Ixiv.,  &c. 
As  some  of  the  Americans  have  a  custom, 
when  they  appear  before  their  king,  to  put 
on  their  worst  apparel,  that  all  the  magnifi- 
cence may  rest  on  him  alone,  and  appear  the 
better  ;  thus,  though  the  majesty  of  God,  in 
itself  being  infinite,  needs  nothing  else  to 
commend  it,  yet,  to  our  apprehension  of  it,  it 
may  be  thus,  and  the  saints  in  desire  of  his 
glory  may  intend  this,  to  set  off  the  lustre  oi 
his  purity  and  excellency  in  the  humble  con- 
fessions of  their  own  vileness:  To  thee,  O 
Lord,  heliinn-eth  righteousness,  but  to  us  con- 
fusion of  face.  Dan.  ix.  7.  [6.]  The  hallow- 
ing fif  God's  name,  is  an  earnest  endeavor  of 
I  conformity  with  him  in  holiness :  first,  in 
heart,  that  must  be  the  jjrincipal  seat  of  it, 
and  then,  holiness  in  all  our  words  and  ac- 
tions, and  the  whole  course  of  our  lives. 
This  IS  that  which  the  Lord  continually  pres- 
ses upon  his  people,  Be  ye  holy,  for  1  am  holy. 
Lev.  xix.  2,  xx.  7,  xxi.  8,  &c.  And  this  is 
the  most  effectual  sanctifying  of  his  name  by 
way  of  declaring  it  holy,  when  his  people 
walk  in  holiness.  Though  you  tell  the 
world  that  he  is  holy,  they  know  him  not : 
they  can  neither  see  him  nor  his  holiness; 
but  wiien  they  see  that  there  are  inen,  taken 
out  of  the  same  lump  of  polluted  nature  with 
themselves,  and  yet  so  renewed  and  changed, 
that  they  hate  the  defilements  of  tlie  world, 
and  do  indeed  live  htjlily  in  the  Tnidst  of  a 
perverse  generation  ;  this  may  convince  them 
that  there  is  a  brighter  spring  of  holiness, 
where  it  is  in  fulness,  whence  these  drops 
are,  that  they  perceive  in  men  ;  for  seeing  it 
is  not  in  nature,  there  must  be  another  prin- 
ciple of  it,  and  that  can  be  no  other  than  this 
holy  God.  Thus  is  his  name  hallowed,  and 
he  known  to  be  holy,  by  the  holiness  of  his 
people. 

So  then,  the  petition  takes  ii  ill,  and  in  it 
we  desire  the  sanctifying  and  magnifying  of 
God's  name  in  every  possible  way.  1st,  by 
ourselves,  that  we  may  mind  his  glory,  and 


604 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


by  his  "race  sanctify  his  name.  2dly,  By 
others,  that  our  Lord  may  be  more  known 
and  honored  in  the  world.  They  would  glad- 
ly have  many  beans  and  many  longues 
brought  in  to  confess  the  Lord,  and  his  holi- 
ness and  greatness.  Thus  the  psalmist  stirs 
up  the  angels  to  bless  the  Lord,  Psalm  ciii. 
20  :  not  that  they  need  exciting,  but  to  show 
his  own  alVcciioii  to  God's  praises.  3dlv,  And 
because  there  is  still  some  alloy  and  mixture 
ol'uiihuliness  in  all  the  hallowiiigof  his  name 
here  below,  all  our  services  being  stained, 
therefore,  as  the  godly  do,  in  this  request, 
wish  all  the  exalting  and  sanctifying  of  God's 
name  among  men  that  is  attainable  here,  so, 
I  conceive,  they  do,  as  it  were  applaud  those 
purer  services  and  praises  that  arc  given  him 
above  ;  and  sensible  how  far  they  fall  short 
themselves,  they  are  glad  to  think  that  there 
be  such  multitudes  of  angels  and  glorified 
spirits  hallowing  and  praising  his  name  better 
and  more  constantly,  not  ceasing  day  nor  night 
to  cry  Ho/ 1/,  holii,  lioly,  Lord  God  Almighty. 
And  here  they  follow  as  they  can,  and  give 
their  acclamation,  though  in  a  lower  key,  yet 
as  loud  as  they  are  able.  Even  so,  Lord,  hal- 
lowed he  thy  name.  Now,  the  cause  and 
source  of  their  great  desire  of  exf>''ing  and 
hallowing  the  name  of  God,  is  thiir  love  to 
him,  which  the  sight  that  he  hath  given 
them  of  his  excellency,  hath  kindled  in  their 
hearts. 

After  that,  their  chief  delight  is  to  think  of 
him,  and  speak  of  his  name.  Gladly  would 
they  have  him  highly  esteemed  by  all  ;  and 
this  is  their  grief,  that  they  can  find  so  few 
to  bear  them  company  and  help  them  in  this, 
in  hallowing  and  extolling  his  name,  which 
is  so  deeply  engraven  on  their  hearts.  See 
how  pathetically  the  psalmist  repeats  that 
again  and  again.  Psalm  cvii :  O  that  men 
would  ■praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness,  and 
his  wonderful  icorks  to  the  children  of 
men  !  And  when  they  hear  or  see  anything 
tending  to  the  dishonor  of  his  name,  this 
wounds  them,  and  pierces  them  through  as  a 
sword,  as  the  psalmist  speaks,  Psalm  xlii.  10. 
They  are  far  from  envy,  or  an  evil  eye:  yea, 
they  rejoice  in  the  gifts  and  graces  which 
God  bestows  upon  others,  although  it  be  be- 
yond what  they  have  themselves  ;  for  still  it 
serves  their  desires,  and  answers  what  they 
are  most  earnest  in  :  it  tends  to  the  hallowing 
and  glorifying  of  the  name  of  God.  And 
what  they  have  themselves,  they  are  not  in 
danger  to  grow  vain  upon  it:  rather,  they 
Wonder  at  the  free  grace  of  God,  and  extol 
that,  and  think  with  themselves.  What  am  I, 
,hat  he  should  have  had  compassion  on  me, 
and  plucked  me  out  of  the  crowd  of  the  lost 
world,  and  given  me  any  desire  to  hallow 
his  name,  while  others  are  blaspheming  it, 
and  'ielighting  to  dishonor  it  !  But  ever  the 
more  they  receive  from  God,  they  are  the 
more  humble,  the  more  desirous  of  his  praise, 
and  regardless  of  their  own.  Any  holiness 
that  is  in  them,  they  know  well,  is  from  him, 


and  therefore,  all  the  glory  of  holiness  nust 
return  thither,  whence  holiness  origi  lall'' 
comes ;  and  the  very  end  for  which  they 
desire  increase  of  holiness  in  themselves,  is 
to  the  end  that  they  may  the  more  hallow  his 
name  from  whom  they  have  it,  and  thiii,  by 
the  increase  of  their  slock,  there  may  be  au 
increase  of  the  tribute  of  praise  to  God. 

But  alas  !  how  far  are  we  from  this  mind  ! 
What  hypocrisy  is  it,  for  the  same  month  to 
utter  this  request,  that  dares  profane  the 
name  of  God  by  vain  swearing  !  That  which 
is  holy,  as  the  Hebrew  word  imports,  is  sepa- 
rated from  common  use  (although  it  was  not 
holy  before),  and  ought  not  to  be  profaned  ; 
least  of  all,  this  name,  which  is  not  made 
holy  by  such  a  separation,  but  is  primitively 
holy  in  itself;  and  they  who  use  it  rashly 
and  unholily,  are  deeply  guilty  of  despising 
the  majesty  of  God.  It  is  not  possible  that 
any  one  who  is  truly  sensible  of  his  greatness 
and  holiness,  can  customarily  abuse  his  name, 

I  that  blessed  name  which  he  hopes  to  bless 
for  ever.  You  say,  It  is  your  custom.  It  is 
a  wonder  to  hear  men  speak  thus  as  an  ex- 
cuse ;  it  is  the  deepest  accusation.  Are  not 
men  known  by  their  customs  ?  Do  not  these 
discover  what  they  are  ?  It  is  your  custom 
— what  gain  you  by  that  ?  You  must  confess 
that  it  is  such  a  one  as  is  the  custom  of  the 
children  of  Satan,  the  professed  enemy  of 
God's  name  ;  as  the  delight  and  custom  of 
hallowing  his  name,  is  the  badge  of  his  chil- 
dren. It  is  your  custom  !  Then  know,  it  is 
his  custom  not  to  acquit  them,  but  to  make 
them  feel  the  weight  of  his  punishing  hand, 

[  who  dare  make  it  a  custom  to  dishonor  his 
name. 

I  Again,  they  who  profane  his  holy  day, 
they  who  sanctify  not  his  name  by  call- 
ing on  it  daily  in  private,  and  generally,  all 
who  by  an  unsanctified  life  do  blot  the  profes- 
sion of  Christians,  what  do  they  mean  to  lie 
so  grossly,  not  unto  men,  but  unto  God,  to  his 
face,  in  praying  thus,  as  if  they  desired  the 
hallowing  of  his  name  by  all,  and  yet,  do 
nothing  but  unliailow  it  themselves  ?  Think 
it  not  sufficient  to  the  hallowing  of  his  name, 
that  his  house  and  worship  is  purged  of  abuses: 
though  they  be  holv,  yet,  unless  we  ourselves 
be  holy  ton,  we  pollute  all  in  our  use  of  them  ; 
the  worships,  and  sabbaths,  and  the  name  of 
God,  our  filthy  hands  defile  all.  Let  us  not 
thus  provoke  God,  lest,  in  just  wrath  and 
punishment,  he  sanctify  h'.s  own  name  upon 
us,  which  we  profane,  as  he  threatens  against 
the  Jews  by  his  prophets.  Ezek.  xxxvi.  23. 

First,  then,  be  not  satisfied  to  think  slight- 
ly and  superficially  of  God.  Take  time  to 
consider  him,  and  know  who  he  is  ;  and  then 
you  will  reverence  him  in  your  thoughts.  It 
deserves  and  requires  all  the  wiiole  heart  to 
keep  up  with  it :  and  alas  !  what  is  a  heart, 
a  narrow  thing,  though  the  largest  of  hearts, 
as  Solomon's,  r/s  large  as  the  sand  of  the  sea, 
to  an  infinite  God  !    We  can  find  time  for  our 

[  earthly  thoughts,  and  for  vain  foolish  thoughts. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


605 


which  are  good  for  nothing:  and  shall  we 
shut  out  God,  or  think  any  sudden  passing 
look  enoush  for  hira  ! 

Secondly,  Behave  yourselves  with  regard 
of  him  in  his  worship:  ayiaayi(.is,  let  holy 
ihinn-s  be  done  holily. 

Thirdly,  Honor  it  in  your  lives  :  especially, 
such  as  do  know  his  name,  grow  daily  more 
respective  and  lender  of  it,  and  be  more  cir- 
cumspect in  your  actions,  and,  as  He  who 
hath  called  you  is  holy,  so  be  ye  holy  in  all 
manner  of  conversation.    1  Pet.  i.  15. 

Thy  kingdom  come.]  He  who  is  the  be- 
ginning of  all  things,  must  likewise  of  neces- 
sity be  the  end  of  them  all  ;  and  then  are  our 
intentions  rightest  and  purest,  when  we  are 
most  possessed  with  the  desire  of  that  high- 
est end,  the  glory  of  God,  and  look  slraight- 
est  unto  it.  And  if  this  purpose  ought  to  dif- 
fuse itself  through  all  our  actions,  certainly, 
in  prayer,  it  should  be  most  lively  and  active, 
because  prayer  is  so  direct  and  express  a  turn- 
ing of  the  face  of  the  soul  unto  God,  and  set- 
ting of  its  eye  upon  him.  Therefore,  this  pe- 
tition follows  forth  the  same  desire  with  the 
former,  wishing  honor  to  God.  He  is  a  most 
holy  God,  and  the  former  request  was  for  his 
glory  in  that,  in  the  sanctifi/ing  of  his  name. 
He  is  a  king,  a  great  king,  the  greatest  of  all, 
and  this  wishes  his  glory  in  that  sense,  that 
kingdom  may  be  advanced  :  Thy  kingdom 
come.  1.  We  shall  inquire  what  his  king- 
dom is.  2.  What  is  the  coming  of  it.  And, 
3.  Shall  speak  of  the  petition  itself 

1.  TWxskingdom  is  not  his  universal  supre- 
macy over  all  the  world  and  all  the  creatures 
in  it,  as  being  their  Maker  and  their  Pre- 
server, and  so  having  the  highest  and  juslest 
title,  and  the  most  absolute  kind  of  dominion 
over  all  things  ;  but  his  peculiar  royalty  over 
his  church.  By  the  former,  he  is  called  King 
of  nations,  Jer.  x.  7  ;  and  by  the  latter,  his 
style  is  King  of  saints.  Rev.  xv.  3.  Of  the 
former  tlie  psalmist  speaks,  Psalm  xxiv.  1,  but 
that  which  he  adds,  ver.  3,  concerns  the  latter, 
and  y  on,  in  the  Psalm,  and  ver.  7 :  Lift  up 
your  her.  -Is,  O  ye  gates,  that  the  King  of  glory 
may  come  in. 

Thi-  kingdom  is  gathered  and  selected  out 
of  the  other,  and  though  the  less  in  quantity, 
yet,  in  God's  account,  far  more  precious  than 
all  the  rest.  The  church  is  the  jewel  in  the 
ring  of  the  world  :  in  it  he  hath  his  peculiar 
residence  and  chief  delight  :  as  kings  choose 
one  of  their  palaces,  and,  if  they  have  more, 
one  of  their  kingdoms,  to  dwell  in  more  than 
another.  T  lose  things  that  are  hidden  from 
the  rest  of  ''.le  world  concerning  this  King, 
art  made  known  to  his  subjects  of  this  his 
select  kingdom  ;  and  it  is  in  it  that  he  opens 
up,  displays  after  a  special  manner  more  than 
in  all  the  world  beside,  both  the  glory  of  his 
majesty, 3nd  the  riches  of  his  bounty,  here, 
in  part,  and  fully  hereafter.  And  according 
to  that  difference,  it  is  distinguished  into  the 
kingdom  of  grace,  and  that  of  glort/. 

The  kingdom  of  grace  is  to  be  considered, 


first,  in  the  external  means  and  administra- 
tion of  it ;  secondly,  in  its  inward  being  and 
power.  In  the  former  sense,  it  is  of  a  larger 
extent  ;  but  in  the  latter,  of  a  more  uniform 
nature  in  itself,  and  more  conformed  to  its 
Head.  The  former,  the  kingdom  of  irrace  in 
its  outward  administration,  is  plainly  the 
whole  visible  church  :  but  the  inward  power 
of  the  kingdom  of  grace  is  only  in  the  hearts 
of  those  who  arc  truly  sanctified,  and  mem- 
bers of  the  invisible  church. 

Jesus  Christ  is  ordained  and  anointed  the 
king  and  head  of  both,  political  ;  but  of  the 
one,  natural,  and  therefore  altogether  indisso 
luble,  not  only  in  regard  of  the  whole,  but  ol 
each  part  and  member  of  it. 

The  visible  church  is  but  a  little  parcel,  a 
kingdom  chosen  out  of  the  world  ;  but  thie 
truly  godly,  who  are  alone  the  subjects  of  the 
inward  kingdom  of  grace,  are  but  a  small 
part  of  that  part,  a  choice  part  of  the  visible 
church,  as  it  is  a  choice  part  of  the  visible 
world. 

Now  these  three,  the  kingdom  of  glory,  and 
those  two  kinds  of  the  kingdom  of  grace, 
stand  in  this  subordination  :  the  inward  king- 
dom of  grace  is  the  way  and  preparation  for 
that  of  glory,  and  the  outward  kingdom  of 
grace  in  the  visible  church,  is  the  means  and 
way  of  introducinn;,  and  establishing,  and  in- 
creasing the  inward  :  so  that  both  of  them 
look  forward  to  the  kingdom  of  glory,  as  their 
j  utmost  end,  and  shall  terminate  and  end  in  it. 

The  first  of  these,  the  external  or  political 
[  kingdom  of  Christ  in  the  visible  church,  con- 
sists in  his  absolute  and  sujjreme  authority  to 
appoint  the  laws  of  his  church,  and  rulers  by 
these  laws.  And  the  use  of  the  word,  and  sac- 
raments, and  discipline,  according  to  his  own 
appointment,  is  the  acknowledgment  of  him 
as  King  of  his  church. 

The  other,  the  inward  kingdom  of  grace,  is 
then  received  into  the  heart,  when  the  Spirit 
of  God  moves  it  to  a  willing  subjection  to  Je- 
sus Christ,  and  the  whole  soul  submits  itself 
to  be  governed  by  him.  He  enters  indeed  by 
conquest,  and  yet  is  most  gladly  received.  It 
is  both  a  lawful  and  a  favorable  conquest,  be- 
cause he  frees  the  soul,  which  is  his  by  so 
many  rights,  from  the  tyramiy  of  a  most  cruel 
usurper,  the  prince  of  darkness,  and  brings  in 
a  kingdom  full  of  sweetness  and  happiness: 
there  is  no  worse  in  it  than  these,  righteous- 
ness, and  peace,  and  joy  in  (he  Holy  Ghost. 
Rom.  xiv.  17. 

This  is  the  folly  of  an  unhelieving  mind, 
that  it  entertains  most  false  |)rejudices  against 
the  kingdom  of  Christ  ;  thinks  that,  if  it  let 
him  in,  it  shall  be  controlled  and  curbed,  and 
therefore  resolves  against  it,  and  studies  how 
to  hold  him  out  ;  consults  (as  it  is  in  the  sec- 
ond Psalm)  against  the  Lord  and  his  anointed. 
But  this  is  a  lamentable  madness,  to  dream 
j  of  liberty  in  the  midst  of  chains,  and  to  be 
I  afraid  of  a  deliverer.    There  is  no  soul  that 
j  opens  to  this  King  of  glory,  but  can  testify 
that  it  never  knew  what  true  liberty  was,  till 


606 


EXPOSlTTvON  OF  THE  LORD'S  TR  AYEK. 


It  admitU'd  tliis  kin£;ilotn  of  God,  till  there 
was  a  throne  lor  Clirisi  erccieii  within  it. 

The  third,  the  kinirdoin  of  ;j:lori/ — would 
you  liear  wherein  that  eonsisis  ?  It  is  such 
as  we  can  ikiI  liear  nor  speak  <  t  as  it  is.  And 
this  indeed  says  more  oC  it  tlian  all  we  can 
say,  tliat  the  excellency  of  it  is  unspeaka hie, 
yea.  unconceivable.  This  we  are  sure  of,  to 
speak  comparatively  oi"  it  (which  is  our  help  in 
thina-s  we  understand  not  in  themselves),  that 
all  the  kniiidoms  of  the  world,  unite  all  their 
glory  toi^eilier,  arc  base  and  poor  in  respect 
of  it,  but  splcndida  tn  sirico  ;  and  that  all  the 
delighis  we  have  here,  not  only  of  nature,  but 
even  of  grace,  are  less  to  it  than  the  smallest 
sparkle  is  to  the  sun  in  its  i)rii:hiness.  All 
that  IS  done  iiere  by  our  king:,  Christ,  in  the 
ruling  of  liis  church,  and  the  power  of  his  or- 
dinances, and  the  bestowing  of  graces  on  his 
own,  are  hut  preludes  and  preparations  for 
that  :  and  when  ihat  cometh,  this  way  of  ru- 
ling his  churcli  and  people  shall  cease,  as 
having  attained  its  end.  Christ  shall  deliver 
up  I  lie  kingdom  to  the  Father  ;  word  and  sac- 
raments,and  discipline, shall  be  at  an  end  :  and 
then  (Sod  shall  he  all  in  all.  1  Corinthians 
XV.  24-28. 

2.  The  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  in 
the  former  two,  is,  ihe  extending  and  spread- 
ing of  them  to  those  places  and  persons  that 
have  not  yet  received  them,  and  the  increase 
of  their  power  where  they  are  entertained  ; 
for  they  come  gradually.  And  that  kingdom 
of  glory,  as  it  is  concerned  in  the  other,  comes 
forward  in  them  so  far,  and  hastens  toward 
its  ])erfection  :  but  in  itself,  as  tiieir  consuni- 
mation,  it  shall  come  at  once  altogether  in  tlie 
•;nd  of  time. 

3.  So,  then,  in  the  petition,  all  these  are  in- 
cluded, and  in  their  largest  extent ;  for  it  is 
to  take  11  ioo  narrow  and  too  low,  to  restrain 
it  only  to  our  own  interest  in  this  kingdom, 
either  of  grace  or  glory,  or  both.  Thus  David, 
Psalm  ciii.,  excites  all  to  praise  the  Lord,  but 
most  his  own  soul ;  begins  with  that,' and  ends 
with  it.  Although  they  who  desire  it  aright, 
do  desire  that  they  may  partake  ol'  it  (for,  if 
they  desire  that  God  may  be  glorified,  they 
can  not  but,  even  out  of  love  to  that  glory, 
beside  their  own  happiness,  desire  that  they 
themselves  may  be  among  those  who  may 
honor  God  as  the  subjects  of  his  kingdom), 
yet  they  stay  not  there,  but  dilate  their  hearts 
to  wish  the  advancement  and  accomplishment 
of  his  kingdom  in  all  the  elect,  and  in  all 
those  ways  that  tend  to  it ;  and  their  love 
may  rise  to  that  high  strain,  as  without  con- 
sidering their  own  interest  at  all  ;  yea,  sup- 
posing that  they  were  to  be  shut  out  of  his 
kingdom  themselves,  yet  still  to  wish.  Thy 
Lmirdom  conic:  let  others  enjoy  and  bless 
thee,  Lord,  for  ever,  even  though  I  should  be 
excluded  :  let  ihine  elect  be  gathered,  though 
I  were  none  of  them.  Be  thou  great,  0  Lord, 
whatsoever  become  of  me. 

Con^iidering  what  a  height  of  glory 
will  arise  to  God  out  of  the  final  subduing  of 


his  enemies,  and  the  full  deliverance  of  bis 
church,  and  the  hringin?  home  of  all  iiis  chil- 
dren after  all  their  sufl't  ings  and  sorrows,  to 
sit  down  togeiiierto  liiat  great  marriage-sup- 
per of  the  Lamb  :  they  can  not  but  thus 
breathe  forth  their  longings  and  wishes,  that 
that  time  maybe  hastened,  and  the  fulness  of 
their  Lord's  kingdom  accomplished,  where  it 
shall  abide  for  all  eternity. 

1 2.]  Both  in  relation  to  that  end,  and  like- 
wise in  respect  of  the  present  glory  thai  re- 
dounds to  God  in  it,  they  earnestly  desire  the 
advancement  and  enlargement  of  Christ's 
kingdom  here  on  earth.  For,  beside  that 
thus  it  is  rising  to  its  perfection,  it  is  no  small 
present  glory  to  our  king.  Christ,  as  a  testi- 
mony of  his  invincible  power,  that  he  rules 
m  the  very  midst  of  his  enemies,  and  in  de- 
spite of  tliem  all.  Psalm  ex.  2  :  not  only  sits 
sure  and  kee])s  his  own,  thrust  at  him  who 
will,  but,  when  he  pleases,  cains  upon  ihem, 
and  enlarges  his  territories,  and  grows  great- 
er by  their  resistances  and  oppositions.  He 
is  here,  as  David  was,  often  assaulted,  and  put 
to  defend  his  kingdom  often  in  war,  but  al- 
ways a  conqueror  ;  but  after  this  militant 
kingdom,  he  shall  be  as  Solomon,  who  like- 
wise typified  him,  reigning  iJL  perfect  peace. 

Now,  becafise  the  enemies  of  his  kingdom 
are  not  yet,  as  they  shall  be,  all  vndcr  his 
feet,  but  round  about  him,  and  incessantly 
plotting  and  working  against  him,  and  Satan 
hath  his  kingdom  and  his  tlirone  in  the 
world  opposite  to  Christ,  therefore  this  is  one 
chief  point  (.f  this  request :  that  all  adverse 
power  may  be  brought  low,  that  all  his  ene- 
mies may  Iick  the  dust,  and  melt  before  him 
as  wax  before  the  fire.  And  for  us,  especially 
in  these  times,  that  the  kingdom  of  Antichrist, 
the  son  of  perdition,  may,  answerably  to  that 
his  name,  be  brought  to  perdition  ;  that  God 
would  remember  his  ])romise  (for  the  faithful 
are  called  his  remembrancers  ;  though  he  for- 
gets not,  and  hath  his  set  time  for  judgment, 
yet  he  loves  to  be  stirred  up  by  the  cries  of 
his  children) ;  that  he  would  make  good  at 
length  those  words  he  hath  spoken  of  Babel's 
ruin  and  the  flourishing  estate  of  his  cliurch 
in  these  latter  times:  that  the  power  of  the 
word,  and  purity  of  religion,  maugre  all  the 
policy  and  power  of  men  opposing  it,  may 
spread  and  extend  itself,  and  make  irresistible 
progress,  as  tiie  sun  in  his  course  ;  that  Jesus 
Christ  may  be  daily  taking  further  possession 
of  the  nations,  even  to  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
according  to  the  patent  of  his  Father's  dona- 
tion. And  the  certainty  of  its  endurance  and 
growth  till  it  he  complete,  should  not  abate, 
but  increase  the  vigor  of  our  prayers  for  it. 
And  the  nearer  things  are  to  their  accom- 
plishment, the  more,  usually,  the  Lord  ex- 
cites the  hopes  and  prayers  of  his  people 
about  them,  and  they  pray  the  more  earnest- 
ly I'm  Dan.  ixj,  moving  naturally  in  it,  and 
therefore,  fastest  when  nearest  their  place. 

Airaip,  we  pray  in  this,  that  where  Christ 
doth  reign  in  his  outward  ordinances,  there 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


607 


he  would  bring  in  liis  spiritual  kingdom  into 
tiie  souls  of  men,  lliat  sinners  maybe  convert- 
ed unto  hiin.  The  love  of  the  glory  of  Jesus 
Ciirist  will  desire  this  earnestly,  that  many 
hearts  may  be  brought  in  to  submit  to  him, 
for  the  glory  of  a  king  is  in  the  multitude  of 
his  subjects.  Further,  that  they  who  are  his 
people,  may  grow  more  conformable  to  his 
laws  ;  that  his  dominion  may  be  more  pow- 
erful in  their  hearts  and  lives,  and  particular- 
ly that  we  ourselves  may  find  it  so. 

You  who  will  not  receive  the  kingdom  of 
God  wiiliin  yourselves,  to  what  purpose  do 
you  speak  this,  as  if  you  desired  it  to  be  en- 
larged and  fl'iUiisii  abroad  ?  1.  You  can  have 
no  comfort  in  it,  remaining  slaves  to  sin,  and 
so  enemies  indeed  to  it.  Neither  the  king- 
dom of  Chris:  in  the  government  of  the  church 
on  the  one  side,  nor,  on  the  other,  the  coming 
of  his  kingdom  of  glory,  can  do  you  any  ben- 
efit, wliile  the  third  is  wanting,  the  inward 
kingdom  of  his  grace,  which  is  the  true  end 
of  the  former,  and  the  means  to  partake  of 
the  happiness  of  tlie  latter.  Why  wish  you 
the  day  of  the  Lord?  Amos  v.  18.  As  ihe 
prophet  says  of  that  day  he  there  speaks  of, 
mistake  it  not:  tliough  that  day  of  his  king- 
dom shall' be  all  glory  in  itself,  it  shall  be  to 
you,  remaining  siill  impenitent,  darkness  and 
not  h^hl,  full  of  horror  and  amazement.  2. 
As  you  can  have  no  comfort  in  his  kingdom, 
so  you  can  not  really  wish  its  advancement. 
You  wish  it  well  elsewhere,  as  if  you  were 
content  it  sliould  be  anywhere,  rather  than 
within  yourselves.  But  would  you  indeed 
have  his  kingdom  to  be  embraced  and  ad- 
van'!ed,  then  do,  for  one,  let  him  be  thy  kini;  : 
first,  ^-U'e  him  thine  own  heart,  and  then  wish 
him  many  more  ;  for  then  thou  wilt  wish  it 
heartily  and  truly. 

Y(ju  who  have  received  this  kingdom,  yet 
have  need  siill,  even  in  that  sense,  to  wish 
the  coming  of  it  in  further  degrees,  and  fuller 
efficacy.  Find  you  not  many  rebels  yet  un- 
subdued? No  doubt,  they  who  search  and 
know  their  own  hearts,  will,  and  often  do, 
complain  of  them  to  their  king  ,)h,  such 
Swarms  of  lusts,  and  unruly,  irregular  de- 
sires! When  shall  they  all  be  brought  into 
subjection?  And  so  they  lift  up  their  wish, 
from  this  lo  the  other,  the  full  and  glorious 
kingdom,  and  say  again  and  again,  Thi/krm^- 
dom  come.  This  is  the  noble  desire  that 
takes  up  the  hear*?  of  the  godly.  While 
others  are  desiring  and  pursuing  low,  base 
things,  their  minds,  and  iheir  endeavor,  to 
their  power,  are  chiefly  set  upon  this  the  ad- 
vancement of  the  kingdom  of  God.  They 
seek  not  theiriselves  and  their  own  tilings, 
with  the  World,  to  the  prejudice  of  this  king- ' 
dom  :  no,  they  di'sire  to  lose  anything,  to  suf- 
fer coiitem|)is  and  abasements  themselves,  so  j 
that  this  kingdom  may  flourish.  St.  Paul 
cares  not  what  he  be  accounted,  modo  man- 
nyfir,et\ir  Christ ii.s,  so  that  also  Christ  may 
be  m'i:,r,iifie,l,  Phil.  i.  20.  As  faithful  minis- 
ters of  stale  (and  wise  princes  choose  such), 


who  are  not  making  up  themselves  to  their 
master's  disadvantage,  but  always  preferring 
his  honor  to  their  private  benefit,  feelinaf  his 
losses  and  gains  more  than  their  own  (as  was 
said  of  St.  Augustine,  Dominicis  semper  hicris 
gaiidens,  el  damms  mcerens)  ;  this  is  the  right 
temper  of  the  servants  and  ministers  of  Jesus 
Christ,  to  be  all  for  their  Master,  willing  that 
their  name,  and  estates,  and  lives,  and  all, 
may  make  a  part  of  his  footstool  to  step  up 
to  his  throne  ;  not  forced  as  his  enemies  to  be 
so,  but  willingly  laying  themselves  low  for 
his  glory.  And  this  comfort  they  have,  that 
when  his  kingdom  shall  come  in  its  fulness, 
and  all  his  enemies  shall  be  trodden  down  for 
ever,  then  they  shall  be  glorified  with  him, 
and  shall  see  his  glory  with  exceeding  joy. 
Therefore  do  they  so  often  desire  his  coming, 
and  are  so  weary  of  all  they  see  here  :  and 
when  he  says  himseli',  for  their  assurance  and 
comfort.  Surely,  I  come  quickly,  their  earnest 
desire  makes  them  echo.  Even  so  come.  Lord 
Jesus,  Rev.  xxii.  20. 

There  is  some  loss  to  the  flesh,  if  we  will 
hear  it,  in  this  desire,  in  each  kind.  The 
erecting  of  Christ's  kingdom  in  purity  in  his 
church,  thrusts  out  the  outward  pomp  and 
magnificence  lliat  naturally  we  like  so  well. 
His  kingdom  of  grace  can  not  be  in  the  soul, 
without  the  forsaking  of  all  our  accustomed 
and  pleasing  ways  of  sin.  But  they  who 
know  the  excellency  of  his  kingdom,  are 
well  content  to  forego  all  that  suits  not  with 
it.  Thus,  that  his  kingdom  of  glory  may 
come,  the  world  must  be  burnt  up;  and,  that 
we  may  particularly  come  to  it,  we  must 
pass  through  death.    But  it  is  worth  all. 

Thi/  will  be  done  on  earth,  as  it  is  in 
heaven.] 

I  will  direct  my  prayer  lo  thee,  says  Da- 
vid, Psalm  V.  3.  The  word  is,  I  will  set  in 
order,  ox  orderb/  address  it.  Which  implies 
not  the  curious  contriving  either  of  the  words 
or  method  (for  there  may  be  most  ol  that, 
where  there  is  least  of  this  right  directing  it 
to  God),  but  the  due  ordering  of  the  frame 
and  desires  of  the  heart.  And  certainly,  one 
main  point  of  that  is  taugiit  us,  as  we  have 
said,  in  the  order  of  this  prayer,  in  this  par- 
ticular; that  it  not  only  prefers  the  honor  of 
God  to  all 'our  own  interest,  setting  the  heart 
first  upon  that,  but  keeps  it  to  it,  causes  it  to 
dwell  upon  that  in  three  several  petitions, 
varying  the  expression  of  that  one  desire,  as 
often  as  there  be  several  retjuests  following, 
of  our  own  concernment ;  teaching  us,  that 
that  doth,  in  its  own  worth,  and  therefore 
should  likewise  in  our  affection,  itself  alone 
being  but  one,  weigh  down  all  the  different 
things  besides  that  We  can  desire.  And  thus 
withal,  it  is  accommodate  to  our  dulness,  for 
that  our  hearts  would  not  readily,  with  one 
Word,  be  either  duly  siirreJ  up  ur  slrelchea 
forth  in  the  heavenly  desire:  so  that,  both  to 
excite  and  to  dilate  them  the  more,  it  is  thus 
iterated  without  vain  tautology.  This  so 
short  and  complete  a  form,  given  us  by  so 


608 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


wise  a  master,  is  far  from  that ;  yea,  it  was 
particularly  intended  in  opposition  to  that 
abuse.  And  not  only  doth  the  dianity  of  the 
thin^  itself,  and  our  indisposediiess,  require 
this  adding:  of  one  request  to  another  con- 
cerning it,  hut  there  is  in  the  petitions  them- 
selves, a  very  profiiahle  difference,  though 
their  scope  is  one:  they  are  as  so  many  sev- 
eral arrows  aimed  at  the  same  mark.  The 
first,  in  general,  wishes  all  manner  of  honor 
to  the  name  of  God  ;  and  because  his  name 
is  especially  honored  in  the  advancement, 
and  in  the  completing  of  his  spiritual  king- 
dom, the  second  is  particular  in  that.  And 
because  until  that  kingdom  be  completed 
and  brought  all  together,  it  lies  in  two  seve- 
ral countries — there  is  one  part  of  it  already 
above,  which  is  the  appointed  place  for  the 
perfection  and  perpetuity  of  this  kingdom  ; 
another  part  here  below,  but  tending  thith- 
er ;  this  third  petition  particularly  concerns 
these  of  this  lower  region  and  condition,  de- 
siring ihis,  that  in  obedience  to  their  king, 
they  may  be  as  conformed  as  is  possible,  to 
those  above.  Thr/  will  be  done  on  earth  as 
it  is  in  heaven. 

Thy  will.]  God  is  most  perfectly  one,  and 
his  will  one  ;  yea,  his  will  is  himself,  he  is 
punis  actus  ;  yel,  in  respect  of  its  several 
objects  or  circumsiances  that  concern  them. 
It  is  diversely  distinguished  in  the  schools, 
sometimes  needlessly,  yea,  erroneously,  but 
some  of  the  distinctions  are  sound  and  use- 
ful. But  here  we  shall  not  need  them  much. 
His  will  is  here  taken,  according  to  a  very 
usual  figure,  for  that  which  he  wills  :  and 
we  desire  here,  that  we  ourselves,  and  oth- 
ers, may  be  obedient  to  his  will  in  every- 
thing, even  heiv  on  earth:  that  he  may  be 
acknowledged  and  served,  not  only  in  heav- 
en, but  here  likewise. 

For  this,  no  question,  means  not  the  equal- 
ity of  our  obedience  to  theirs,  but  the  quality 
of  it ;  that,  though  it  fall  very  far  short  of  so 
perfect  a  pattern,  yet  it  may  bear  some 
resemblance  to  it  ;  as  a  scholar's  writing, 
though  it  be  nothing  so  good  as  his  copy,  yet 
may  have  so  much  likeness  as  to  show  he 
follows  it.  It  doth  no  wrong,  but  helps  a 
man  much  in  anything,  the  more  perfect  ex- 
ample he  hath  before  him  ;  although  he  be 
not  able  to  match  it,  yet,  the  looking  on  it, 
makes  him  do  the  better:  though  an  archer 
shoot  not  so  high  as  he  aims,  yet  the  higher 
he  takes  his  aim,  the  higher  he  shoots.  And, 
that  we  may  not  think  it  strange,  that  we 
have  here  the  citizens  of  heaven  set  before 
us  as  a  model  for  obedience,  we  have  our 
iieave.ily  Father  himself  propounded  by  our 
Savioi  in  the  former  chapter,  as  our  exam- 
ple fu'  perfection:  Be  ye  verfecl,  as  your, 
heavenly  Father  is  perfect.  The  obedience  in  ' 
heaven,  is,  1.  Universal,  without  choosing 
and  excepting  ;  and  this  is,  because  the  will 
and  command  of  God  is  the  very  reason  of  it. 
The  angels  are  said  to  do  his  commandments, 
hearkening  to  the  voice  of  his  word  Psalm 


ciii.  20:  they  wait  but  for  a  wo\i  from  him 
and  tliat  is  enough.  And  in  this  should  we 
desire  to  be  like  them.  Though  we  can  not 
fully  keep  any  one  commandment,  yet  should 
We  exclude  none  of  them  from  our  endeav- 
or :  yea,  the  rather,  because  we  want  that 
perfection  in  the  degree,  should  we  study 
this  other,  wliich  is  a  kind  of  perfection  in 
the  design  and  purpose,  to  have  respect  to  all 
the  commondfiirnis,  as  David  says:  to  have 
our  eye  upon  them  all,  as  the  word  there  is. 
Psalm  cxix.  6.  So  Psalm  xvi.  8:  J  have  set 
the  Lord  always  hcfnre  me  [a?i/ualitrr  posui'^, 
in  an  even,  C(jnsiant  regard  of  his  will.  And 
the  want  of  this  discovers,  that  much  of  our 
obedience  hath  not  the  right  stamp  on  it,  is 
no  way  heavenly. 

A  man  may  think  he  approves  and  does 
the  will  of  God  in  some  things,  where  it  is 
but  by  accident,  because  the  letter  of  the 
commandment  is  coincident  with  his  own 
will  ;  and  so,  it  is  not  the  will  of  God,  but 
his  own,  that  moves  him  :  therefore,  in  doing 
that  which  God  commands,  he  does  not  God's 
will,  but  his  own  ;  and  therefore,  when  they 
meet  not,  but  are  contrary,  there  it  appears, 
for  he  leaves  God's  will  then,  and  follows  his 
own.  A  covetous  father  condemns  the  prod- 
igality of  his  lavish  son,  and  the  son  again 
cries  out  against  the  avarice  of  his  niggardly 
father,  and  thus  both  seem  to  condemn  sin  ; 
but  the  truth  is,  neither  do  it:  it  is  but  two 
extreme  sins  figliting  together,  neither  of 
them  regarding  the  rule  that  God  hath  set : 
it  is  but  their  two  idols  choking  each  other, 
as  the  heathen  set  their  gods  together  by  the 
ears.  But  they  who  therefore  liate  sin,  be- 
cause of  God's  countermand,  and  love  his 
will  for  itself,  their  obedience  is  more  even, 
and  regards  the  whole  will  oi'  God,  and  at  all 
times:  for  there  is  that  universality  too  in 
their  obedience,  conformable  to  thatof  heav- 
en.  So  shall  I  keep  thy  laic,  says  David,  con- 
tinually, for  ever  and  ever.    Psalm  cxix.  44. 

See  a  man's  carriage  when  tempted  or 
provoked  to  some  sin.  For  when  the  oc- 
casion is  out  of  reach,  and  out  of  sight,  what 
wonder  if  then  he  forbears?  But  when  it 
offers  itself,  as,  by  company,  intemperance, 
or  cursins  or  swearing  by  passion,  it  appears, 
if  a  man  yield  then,  that  sin  was  not  out  be- 
fore, but  only  lay  close  and  quiet  w'thin,  till 
it  was  stirred,  as  mud  in  the  bottom  of  water. 
Natura  vexata  prodit  seipsam.  So,  a  man 
may,  for  his  own  gain,  or  his  own  glory,  do 
Goi's  will.  Jehu  could  say  to  Jonadab,  Come 
and  see  my  zeal  for  the  Lord. 

2.  The  obedience  of  heaven  is  cheerful. 
It  is  the  very  natural  motion  of  glorified  spir- 
its, to  be  acted  and  moved  by  the  will  of  God. 
They  excel  in  strength,  says  the  psalmist,  in 
that  ciiid  Psalm,  and  do  his  commandments  : 
they  have  no  other  use  for  all  their  strength  ; 
that  is  the  proper  employment  of  it.  Thus, 
the  godly  man,  in  so  far  as  he  is  renewed 
(for  in  so  far  he  suits  with  heaven),  delights 
himself  in  the  way  of  God's  commandmenta 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


609 


takes  raore  pleasure  in  keeping  them,  than 
profane  men  do  in  all  their  pleasures  of  sin, 
by  which  they  break  them.  He  is  never 
well  but  when  he  is  in  the  way  of  obedience  ; 
and  the  ways  of  sin  are  painful  and  grievous 
to  him.  Tiien  hath  he  most  inward  gladness 
and  contentment,  when  he  keepeth  closest  to 
his  rule.  And  the  reason  why  he  finds  the 
law  of  God  thus  pleasant,  is,  because  it  is  not 
to  him,  as  to  the  ungodly,  one  icithoui,  dri- 
ving him  violently,  but  it  is  within  him,  and 
therefore  moves  him  sweetly.  /  delight  to 
do  thy  will,  0  my  God,  Psalm  xl.  8,  and  he 
adds.  Thy  law  is  within  my  heart,  or,  in  the 
midst  of  my  bowels.  .  So,  Psalm  Ixxxiv.  5: 
In  whose  heart  are  thy  wa ys :  not  only  their  feet 
in  the  ways,  but  the  ways  are  in  their  hearts. 

3.  They  do  the  will  of  God  in  heaven, 
unanimously  and  harmoniously  ;  there  is  nei- 
ther an  evil  eye  of  envy  among  them,  nor  a 
lofty  eye  of  pride,  whatsoever  degrees  there 
be  among  them  in  their  stations  and  employ- 
ments. Not  to  be  curious  in  that,  nor  to  ob- 
trude ourselves  into  things  we  have  not  seen, 
yet,  we  are  sure,  the  lesser  do  not  envy  the 
greater,  nor  the  greater  despise  the  less  ;  and 
the  reason  is,  because  they  are  all  so  wholly 
taken  up  and  so  strongly  united  in  this  joint 
desire  of  doing  the  will  of  God.  Thus  ought 
his  servants  here,  each  one  in  his  place, 
and  according  to  that  which  God  hath  dis- 
pensed to  him,  ihe  greatest,  humbly,  and  the 
meanest,  contentedly,  to  mind  this,  and  noth- 
ing but  this,  to  do  his  will. 

Answerably  lo  the  sense  of  this  petition,  do 
godly  men,  in  prayer,  [1.]  Vent  their  regret 
and  grief  unto  God,  that  there  is  so  little  re- 
gard and  obedience  to  his  among  men,  that 
they  see  the  greatest  part  taking  pleasurr  in 
unrighteousness,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  2 
Thess.  ii.  18.  Thus  David,  Psalm  cxix.  1.3G  : 
Rivers  of  water  run  down  mine  eyes  brcause 
men  ke?p  not  thy  law.  And  as  they  bewail 
ungodliness  vv^ithout  them,  so  especially,  the 
strength  of  corruption  within  themselves: 
thev  begin  there,  and  exjiress  their  grief,  in 
the  presence  of  God,  that  they  are  so  clogged 
and  hampered  with  sin  cleavmg  fast  to  tliem, 
and  crossing  their  purposes  of  obedience  ; 
saying  with  the  apostle,  I  find  a  law  in  my 
mcmhers  warring  against  the  law  of  my  mind. 
Rom.  vii.  23.  [2.j  They  declare  their  desire 
of  redress,  both  in  themselves  and  others; 
that  their  great  desire  is,  that  more  oljcdience 
Were  given  unto  God,  and  particularly,  th?r 
they  had  nnjre  faculty  and  strength  to  serve 
him.  P^alm  cxix.  4,  5.  |3.  |  They  pray  in  this, 
for  the  efTecting  of  this  their  desire,  that  God 
would  incline  men's  hearts,  and  particularly 
their  own  to  the  obedience  of  his  will  (what- 
soever vain  will-worshi[)pers  say,  they  are 
indeed  in  that  sense,  in-_ui)t>Ji^itnt,  make  a  deity 
of  the  will);  not  doubting  that  it  is  in  his 
hand  to  do  so,  and  that  he  hath  more  power 
of  our  hearts  than  we  ourselves  h,ive.  Oth- 
erwise, it  were  in  vain  to  put  these  supplica-  ! 
'ions  into  his  hand,  if  he  have  no  power  to 
77  ' 


answer  them,  to  give  them  the  real  ariswel 
of  performance.  Incline  my  heart  unto  thy 
law,  &c.  Turn  us,  O  Lord,  &c.  [4.]  They 
do,  in  this  request,  offer  up  their  own  hearts 
to  God,  to  be  fashioned  and  moulded  to  his 
will.  And  every  godly  man,  if  he  had  the 
hearts  of  all  the  men  in  the  world  in  his  dis- 
posal, he  would  dispose  then)  the  same  way, 
lodge  them  with  his  own,  and  make  one  sacri- 
fice of  all.  His  own  he  gives  wholly,  resigns 
it  up  to  his  Lord,  to  be  as  a  piece  of  wax,  in 
God's  hand,  pliable  to  what  form  he  will,  to  do 
with  it  what  he  will,  to  t-urn  out  and  banish 
whatsoever  displeases  him,  and  to  make  it  to 
his  own  mind.  In  a  word,  this  is  the  desire 
of  a  Christian,  that  his  own  will  may  be  an- 
nihilated, and  the  will  of  God  placed  in  its 
room  ;  that  he  may  have  no  will  but  God's; 
that  he  may  be  altogether  subject  both  to  God's 
commanding  and  his  working  will,  to  do  what 
he  commands,  and  to  be  heartily  content  with 
what  he  does  ;  for  both  these  are  in  it. 

Where  he  commands  anything,  though  our 
own  corrupt  will  grumble  at  it,  and  tliink  it 
hard,  we  must  tread  ujion  it  to  (jbey  his  will, 
making  that  the  rule  of  all  we  do.  To  this 
end,  we  must  endeavor  to  be  acquainted  with 
his  will,  and  to  know  what  it  is  :  otherwise 
we  can  not  do  it.  But  once  knowing  it,  this 
is  the  end  of  knowing,  to  do;  otherwise,  you 
know,  that  knowledge  will  make  us  the 
worse  for  it,  the  more  ijuilty. 

It  is  a  a  safe  and  comfortable  thing,  to  walk 
every  step  by  his  direction.  The  constant 
regard  of  that,  is,  we  see,  what  conforms  us 
to  heaven.  It  was  observable  how  this  will 
prevailed  with  Abraham  :  he  was  a  loving  fa- 
ther, it  ai)pears,  and  upon  Sarah's  ])rivate 
moti(;n,  while  there  was  no  more,  he  could 
not  find  in  his  heart  to  put  Ishmael  out  of 
doors,  who  was  but  the  son  of  the  bond-wo' 
man  ;  but  ui)on  God's  command,  he  was 
ready  to  put  Isaac  to  death,  who  was  the  son 
of  the  promise.  And  He  who  taught  us  to 
pray  thus,  gives  us  his  own  examjjle  in  this: 
he  did  the  will  of  his  Father  indeed,  as  it  is 
done  in  heaven,  and  he  came  to  the  earth  for 
that  purpose:  Then,  said  he,  Lo,  J  come  to 
do  thy  will,  O  my  God.  And,  in  that  great 
and  most  painful  part  of  his  work,  Not  my 
will,  hut  thine  he  done.  For  our  actions, 
then,  let  his  word  be  our  guide;  and  for  ihe 
events  of  things,  and  all  that  concerns  us, 
let  his  good  pleasure  and  wise  disjiosing  be 
our  will.  Let  us  give  up  the  rudder  of  our 
life  into  his  hand,  to  be  steered  by  him. 

For  our  actions,  is  it  not  better  to  observe 
his  will,  than  to  be  subject  to  our  own  C(jr- 
rupt  wills,  and  to  Satan's,  led  captive  at  his 
will  ^  And,  as  it  is  our  best,  to  do  what 
I)leaseth  him,  so,  in  all  his  dealings  with  us, 
to  be  pleased  with  what  he  dues  ;  not  to  think 
it  were  better  for  us  to  be  richer  or  greater  in 
the  World  than  we  arc,  or  to  murmur  and 
struggle  under  affliction.  There  is  nothing 
to  be  gained  by  this.  Who  hath  resisted  his 
will  at  any  time  ?   In  all  things  he  doth  what 


310 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


he  will,  wnothcr  it  like  us  or  not.  Our  rc- 
pininiT  iiiiuiers  not  his  workinff  at  all,  l)Ut  it 
hinders  our  own  comCon :  our  vvrestlins;  and 
frettine;  doth  but  pain  ourselves.  11  we  he 
his  (as  we  proCess),  then  we  may  he  a>^ured 
he  loves  us :  and  it'  we  believe  that,  and  withal 
believe  that  he  is  wiser  than  we,  then  we 
must  confess,  that  whatsoever  he  doth  with 
us,  is  better  than  our  own  choosing  lor  our- 
selves could  be. 

This  is  the  only  way  of  constant  quietness 
and  contentment  of  mind.  Who  is  there  out- 
wardly so  prosperous,  but  meets  with  many 
things  that  cross  his  will  ?  Now,  he  who 
hath  renounced  his  own  will,  and  is  fixed 
u]ion  a  continual  comidacency  with  the  good 
pleasure  and  jirovidence  of  God,  to  will  what 
he  wills,  and  nothing  else;  everything  that 
befalls  him,  he  looks  upon  that  side  of  it  as 
God's  will,  and  so  is  satisfied:  Doth  God 
think  this  good,  and  shall  I  think  it  evil  ? 

There  is  a  dillerence  of  estates,  but  £.1 
coming  from  the  same  hand  (which  is  Job's 
consideration),  to  embrace  and  kiss  the  worst 
that  can  come,  is  our  duty,  ll  is  the  Lord, 
said  David,  U  t  him  do  xrhat  scrum  good  m  his 
eyes.  2  Sam,  x.  12.  Thus,  Wilt  thou  have 
me  poor  or  rich,  healthful  or  sick,  esteemed 
or  despised  ?  Wilt  thou  that  1  live,  or  that  I 
die  ?    I  am  thine,  thy  will  be  done. 

Give  us  this  day  our  darlt/  hreod.]  Man  is 
made  up  of  two  difi'erent  ])rinciples,  a  soul 
•ierived  from  heaven,  and  a  body  at  first 
nnulded  out  of  earth  ;  as  Nazianzen  expres- 
Jes  it,  wnovs  at  x">'s,  the  breath  of  (jod,  and  the 
dust  of  the  earth,  igneo  spirilu,  et  terrc- 
10  corpore.  And  according  to  his  composi- 
/ion,  so  is  this  prayer  comprised  ;  being  made 
for  his  use.  it  is  wisely  fitted  to  his  condition. 

The  greatest  part  of  it  is  taken  up  with 
such  desires  as  are  spiritual,  and  so  most 
suitable  to  his  worthier  part,  his  soul  ;  such 
as  do  immediately  concern  God,  and  such  as 
properly  concern  itself.  Yet,  the  body  is  not 
wholly  shut  out :  though  the  meaner  part, 
vet  being  a  part  of  man,  and  the  workman- 
ship of  God,  this  one  petition  is  bestowed 
upon  its  concernment. 

Observe  m  it  briefly,  First,  The  matter  or 
object  of  the  request.  Secondly,  The  qualifi- 
cation of  it.  The  matter  under  the  name  of 
^read  ;  not  only  bread  for  all  food,  as  the  He- 
brews do,  but  food,  so  named  for  all  other 
lecessaries.  By  bread,  as  the  chief  support 
*nd  stair  of  man's  life,  is  meant,  all  needfui 
temporal  blessings,  food  and  raiment,  and 
tiealth  and  peace,  &c.,  a  blessing  on  the  works 
of  our  calling,  and  the  seasons  of  the  year, 
ind  all  our  lawful  temporal  affairs. 

Though  a  godly  man  hjoks  upon  ihe  neces- 
sities of  this  life  as  a  piece  of  his  present  cap- 
tivity, and  is  often  looking  beyond  it  to  thai 
purer  life  he  hopes  for,  yet,  in  the  mean- 
while, he  doth,  in  obedience  to  God,  use 
these  things,  and  in  dependance  upon  God,  he 
Beeks  them  at  God's  own  band. 

In  the  reques',  together  with  its  object,  as 


here  we  have  it,  there  is,  T.  Piety.    H.  Moa> 

eration — God/incss  and  soberness. 

I.  Piety,  in  asking  our  bread  of  God,  in 
askins:  it  in  the  true  notion,  by  way  of  gift. 

Ovr  daily  bread.  There  is  a  natural  cry 
or  voice  of  our  necessity,  and  that  not  only 
ungodly  men,  but  unreasonable  creatures 
have,  the  very  beasts  and  fowls,  as  the 
cxlviith  Psalm  hath  it  (ver.  9) :  TIlc  ravens  ask 
their  meat  from  God.  But  this  s|)iriiual  cry 
of  prayer  is  the  peculiar  voice  of  (lod's  own 
children.  Now,  to  ask  bread,  or  needl'ul  tem- 
poral things,  at  the  hantis  of  God,  is  not  only 
no  way  incongruous  to  the  piety  and  spiritual- 
mindedness  of  a  Christian,  and  no  wrong  to 
the  majesty  of  God,  but,  on  ibe  contrary,  it 
were  impiety  in  man,  and  an  injury  to  God, 
not  to  do  so.  We  have  here  the  warrant  of 
his  own  command.  Pray  thus.  And  is  it  not 
most  reasonable  ? 

1.  Seeing  these  things  are  necessary  for  us 
to  receive,  and  are  in  the  hand  of  God  to  be- 

;  Stow,  why  ought  we  not  to  seek  them  there? 

I  Although,  in  his  wisdom,  he  knows  what  we 
neeil,  and  is  in  bounty  most  ready  to  furnish 
us,  yet,  this  is  the  homagt  ve  owe  to  God,  to 
present  ourselves  and  our  necessities  belbre 
him,  and  seek  our  supjjlies  by  prayer.  In  it, 
there  is  a  clear  acknowledgment  of  the  Di- 
vine providence  and  goodness,  and  of  our 
faith  and  reliance  on  it.  And  faith  is  not 
only  signified  in  prayer,  in  these  things,  but 
is  acted  and  excited,  and  by  that  means  is 
increased  and  strengthened. 

2.  Godliness  hath  both  kinds  of  promises, 
those  of  the  life  to  come,  and  those  of  this  life. 
1  Tim.  iv.  8.  And  as  godliness  hath  a  right 
to  them  both,  so,  it  teacheth  to  use  them 
both;  and  particularly  this  way,  by  turning 
the  promises  into  prayers,  as  a  means  ap- 
pointed by  God,  both  to  fit  us  for  obiainment, 
and  to  obtain  the  performance  of  them. 

3.  Though  a  man  hath  his  provision  by 
him,  not  only  of  a  day,  but  of  many  years, 
yet  hath  he  need  still  daily  to  ask  it  of 
God;  for  it  is  still  in  God's  hand  to  give  it 
.10  him,  or  not  to  give,  though  it  is  in  a  man's 
own  hand  in  present  possession.  [1.]  It  is"in 
God's  disposal  to  contiime  it  to  him,  or  sud- 
denly to  pluck  it  from  him  out  of  his  hand,  or 
even  out  of  his  mouth,  vi  bolus  ereplus  c  fau- 
cibus.  How  many  have  been  thus  on  a  sud- 
den turned  out  of  great  estates  into  extreme 
poverty,  either  by  the  hands  of  men,  which 
are  moved  by  (rod,  or  by  some  immediate  ac- 

I  cident  from  his  own  hand ;  and  others,  by  lit- 
'  tie  and  little,  their  estates  consuming  i^nd 
melting  as  snowballs!  In  the  former,  the 
judgment  of  God  is  as  a  linn,  and  in  the  lat- 
ter, as  a  moth,  as  the  prophet  speaks.  Hos.  v. 
12,  14.  Again,  [2.]  If  God  do  continue  a  man 
in  his  possessions,  yet,  there  is  further  need- 
ful for  his  cheerful  use  of  daily  bread,  that 
calmness  and  content  of  mind,  and  bcalthful- 
ness  of  body,  which  arc  God's  peculiar  gifts, 
without  which  all  is  unsavory.  Is  the  niind 
in  bitterness  or  distemper,  or  the  body  tied  to 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


611 


Its  sick-bed,  this  disrelishes  a  man's  daily 
bread,  though  it  be  of  the  richest  kind. 
[3.]  Having  bread,  and  a  disposition  to  use 
it,  yet,  there  is  further  an  influence  of  bles- 
sing from  God  needful  to  make  it  serve  its 
proper  end  :  and  without  this,  that  staff  of 
life  is  but  as  a  broken  staff  in  a  man's  hand, 
that  can  not  support  him.  [4.]  Besides  that 
ordinary  blessing,  there  is  yet  someihing  fur- 
ther, that  a  godly  man  desires,  and  desires 
most  of  all,  a  secret  character  and  stamp  of 
the  peculiar  favor  of  God  even  upon  his 
hrend,  his  temporal  enjoyments.  And  this  is 
a  proper  fruit  of  prayer.  As  there  is  (as  is 
alre.idy  said)  a  peculiar  voice  of  God's  own 
children  in  this  request,  so,  God  knows  it  par- 
ticularly, and  distinguishes  it  from  the  com- 
mon voice  of  natural  men,  and  other  creatures 
that  call  for  supply  ;  and  therefore,  he  gives 
that  peculiar  voice  of  their  suit,  a  peculiar 
answer:  together  with  xh^  dnihi  brroH  vf\\\c\\ 
he  gives  to  others,  and  a  common  blessing  on 
it,  they  have  someihing  that  is  not  given 
to  others.  This  is  that  which  particularly 
sweetens  their  bread,  that  they  receive  it  af- 
ter a  special  manner  out  of  their  Father's 
own  hand,  having  humbly  asked  it  by  prayer 
as  his  gift. 

That  is  the  other  thing  observable  in  the 
word  of  the  request.  Give. 

We  are  not  by  this  forbidden,  no,  nor  dis- 
pensed with  from  labor  and  honest  industry 
for  it,  but,  after  all  our  our  labor,  we  are  still 
to  acknowledge  all  as  a  free  gift  ;  both  the 
I. read  we  obtain  by  labor,  and  the  strength  by 
whi  'h  we  labor.  Just  as  we  find  it  of  the 
oilier  bread,  the  hrr-nd  nf  life.  John  vi.  27. 
Lrthnr  fnr  that,  meat  ir/itch  endureth  unto  eivr- 
lastinrr  li  fr,  vhich  the  Son  of  man  shall  <rix;e 
unto  you:  labored  for,  and  yet  given.  The 
fruit  of  our  labors  may  be  just  reward 
from  men,  but  it  is  always  free  from  God; 
even  these  lowest  benefits  to  the  best  and  ho- 
liest men.  7  am  less,  says  .Tacob,  than  the 
least  of  thy  mercies.  Gen.  xxxii.  10.  We 
have  no  motive  for  the  least  mercy,  but  his 
own  goodness  as  our  Father  ;  so  that  it  suits 
with  ih  is,  as  with  all  the  other  requests  here. 
Though  we  deserve  n(jthin2',  vet  He  is  our 
Father:  it  is  proper  for  children  to  ask  bread 
of  their  father,  as  our  Savior  teaches  us  in  the 
next  chapter  ;  therefore  he  teaches  us  here  to 
say,  Father,  give  us  hrend. 

II.  The  moderation  of  the  desire  appears 
in  comparison  of  the  number  of  the  other  peti- 
tions. All  the  rest  are  for  things  spiritual, 
and  but  one  for  temporals  :  those  that  regard 
the  glory  of  God  as  the  chief  are  three  to  one 
w  th  it  ;  and  those  that  concern  our  own 
spiritual  good,  two  for  one.  Thus  for  the 
number.  And  as  for  the  order  or  place,  which 
80  many  have  taken  (piite  contrary,  it  suits 
very  well  with  this  as  the  least  of  our  re- 
quests, and  so  to  be  accounted  by  us.  It  is 
strange,  thai  this  rjgbt  place  of  it  should  have 
scared  men  from  its  right  meaning,  and  per- 
suaded them  to  take  it  for  our  spiritual  food, 


or  the  bread  of  life,  because  it  is  the  first  of 
the  three.  But  taking  it  as  it  is,  for  this 
life's  necessaries,  there  is  no  need  of  sucli 
reasons  as  some  give  for  its  standing  in  this 
order,  which  are  a  little  light  and  unsolid. 
But,  to  omit  even  those  that  are  more  perti- 
nent, which  justify  this  order,  though  this  pe- 
tition be  less  than  the  two  following,  it  seems 
truly  the  only  fit  place  for  it,  for  that  very 
reason,  because  it  is  the  least.  It  is  known 
to  be  the  ordinary  course  of  skilful  orators,  to 
place  the  meanest  part  of  their  speech  in  the 
middle  :  and  in  this,  let  the  ear  of  any  under- 
standing mind  be  jud^e,  whether  it  sounds 
not  much  better,  that  this  request  pass  in  the 
middle,  than  if  the  prayer  should  have  ended 

I  with  it.  Whereas  now,  it  besrins  spiritually, 
and  closes  so.    And  this  petition,  which  is 

i  de  impedimentis  militia  nostrts  (for  the 
things  of  this  life  prove  so  too  often),  is  cast 
in  the  middle. 

'  Now,  how  few  are  there  who  follow  Christ's 
(  estimate  in  this,  who  have'the  very  strength 
of  their  desires,  and  most  of  their  thoughts, 
on  things  that  are  spiritual,  and  do  but  in 
passing  lend  a  word  to  the  things  of  this 
jiife!*  This  proportion  few  will  admit:  it 
makes  not  for  their  purpose.  The  apostle 
gives  this  character  of  those  who  perish,  that 
they  mind  earthly  things.  Phil.  iii.  19. 

But  to  consider  the  words,  each  word  de- 
signing the  matter  of  this  request,  doth  clear- 
1  ly  teach  us  moderation  in  it.     Give  us  our 
[  daily    bread.      Having   food  and  raiment, 
;  says  the  apostle,  let  us  he  content.    1  Tim.  vi. 
8.    How  few  be  there  of  us,  if  any,  who  want 
these:  and  yet,  how  few  that  have  content- 
ment !    It  is  the  enormity  and  boundlessness 
of  our  desires  that  causeth  this.    There  is  no 
necessity  for  curious  food  and  raiment,  but 
such  food  as  nourishes,  and  such  raiment  as 
covers. 

Our  daily  bread.  In  the  original,  imomioi. 
Not  at  all  to  dispute  the  word,  its  genuine 
sense  is,  such  as  is  fit  for  our  daily  suslenta- 
tion  ;  therefore  rendered,  doily  bread.  And 
it  answers  well  to  the  word  in  that  petition 
of  Agur,  Prov.  xxx.  8,  convenient  (or  propor- 
tionable) food,  and  so  agrees  with  what  we 
said  of  bread  —proportionable,  not  to  our  lust, 
but  our  necessity.  This  was  the  sin  of  the 
Jews,  and  a  most  impertinent  sin  in  the  wil- 
derness. They  asked  meal  for  their  lust  : 
(Psalm  Ixxviii.  18),  they  were  not  content  with 
bread  for  themselves,  hut  must  have  meat  for 
their  lust  too,  must  liave  that  fed  likewise. 
We  are  not  to  be  carvers  of  the  proportion 
ourselves,  but  leave  that  to  God,  who  knows 
best  what  is  convenient  for  us  ;  therefore  the 
word  is  there,  of  my  set,  or  ordained,  portion 
— ordained  by  tliee. 

Our  bread,  ['H,imi/.]  Not  seeking  any  other 
than  :hat  which  is  our  own  by  our  just  in- 
dustry and  God's  free  gift.  What  is  it,  but 
the  base,  immoderate  desire  of  bavin.;;,  tliat 

*  Quamprimum  H  corpore  ad  animain  redeunduin. 
Senkca. 


612 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


Btretdu'S  a  man  beyond  tliis?  Wlien  a  man  ! 
.ays  clown  iliat  conclusiim  witli  himself,  that 
he  must  have  so  much,  then  it  follows,  tliat 
any  way  tending  to  that  he  must  use;  if  he 
can,  by  right,  hut  if  not.  any  way ,  rather  than 
miss  :  by  violence  and  oppression,  or  by  de- 
ceit, hrougli  all  ways,  fair  and  foul.*  When 
a  man  is  once  upon  that  journev  there  is  no 
stopping,  until  either  (Sod  recall  him,  or  he 
plunge  himself  in  the  pit  of  destruction. 
They  that  tcill  he  rich,  says  the  apostle,  who 
are  resolved  upon  tliat,  they  fall  into  tempta- 
tton  and  divers  snares,  which  drown  men  m 
deslruclion  and  perdition.  1  Timothy,  vi.  9.  j 
That  ij  the  issue.  | 

This  day.  It  is  true,  that  this  condemns 
not  a  due  providence  in  men  for  themselves 
and  their  families,  in  a  just  and  moderate 
way.  But  Tiien  deceive  themselves  in  this; 
few  stay  there,  but,  under  that  name,  harbor 
gross  avarice  and  earihliness.  But  in  this 
word,  we  have  the  true  temper  of  a  Chris- 
tian mind,  thai,  \Vhatsoever  is  his  own  law- 
ful providence,  and  whatsoever  is  the  success 
of  it,  what  he  livessnd  relies  on,  is,  the  prov- 
idence of  God,  not  his  own  :  he  lives  upon 
tiial  from  one  day  to  another,  as  a  child  in 
his  father's  house  ;  and  for  provision  for  af- 
terward, thinks  it  as  good  in  G'od's  hand  as  if 
it  were  in  his  own,  and  therefore  asks  not 
so  much  stock,  or  so  much  yearly  rent,  but 
bread  for  to-day.  If  he  have  much  land  or  j 
great  revenues,  yet,  he  trusts  no  more  in  that, , 
than  if  he  had  nothing  :  and  if  he  have  bread  j 
for  to-day,  and  nothing  for  to-morrow  (as  the 
Israelites  had  manna),  yet  he  trusts  no  less 
in  God  than  if  he  had  thousands.  He  re- 
solves thus  :  Whether  I  have  much  or  lit- 
tle, I  am  at  God's  providing,  and  live  lipon 
that  from  dav  to  day.  The  Lord  is  my  shep- 
herd ;  I  shall  not  leant. 

EvaciScia  avraoKcia,  1  Tim.  vi.  6 — these  two  ! 
together,  as  we  have  observed  them  here  to- 
gether, godliness  and  moderation  :  godliness 
in  this  particular,  of  casting  i  ver  our  care  of 
temporal  things  on  God  by  prayer.  So  Phil, 
iv.  5 — Let  your  moderation  he  knoion.  But 
how  shall  we  have  it?  Make  your  requests 
known  unto  God,  and  that  tn  all  things. 
That  will  ease  you,  and  not  trouble  him. 
But  when  we  lodge  such  desires  as  are  not  fit 
indeed  to  be  im[)arted  to  him,  this  is  our 
shame,  and  proves  our  vexation.  It  is  a  won- 
der what  men  mean,  but  it  is  a  folly  so  root- 
ed in  men's  hearts,  that  no  discourse  will 
pluck  it  up  ;  they  imagine  that  there  is  hap- , 
piness  in  having  much,  and  will  neither  be-  [ 
iieve  religion,  nor  reason,  nor  experience, 
though  all  teach  the  contrary.  They  can  not 
be  persuaded  to  make  this  the  rule  of  their 
desires — daily  bread,  and, yor  to-day;  but, 
are  still  projecting  for  a  long  lime  to  come, 
though  they  are  not  sure  of  a  day.  Men  are 
still  beginning  to  live,  even  when  their  years 
tell  them  they  Should  be  ihuiking  how  to  die  ; 

•  .Si  possis,  recti,  si  non,  quocunque  modo,  rem. — 

HOBACE.  1 


are  upon  new  contrivances  for  the  world, 
when  they  must  shortly  leave  it.  And  this 
is  (}ne  point  of  this  our  decease,  that  it  grows 
still  and  is  strongest  in  old  age,  when  there 
is  least  reason  for  it.  Quo  minus  via:  reslat, 
CO  plus  viatici  comjia rare. 

What  is  this  that  riches  can  do  ?  Our  Sa- 
vior lells  us,  if  we  will  believe  him,  that  Man^s 
life  d.olh  not  consist  in  the  abundance  of  the 
things  he  possesseth.  Lukexii.  ]5.  There  is 
something  necessary,  we  see,  and  truly  that 
is  not  much  ;  and  what  more  than  serves, 
many  times  proves  but  mere  incumbrance. 
One  staff  will  help  a  man  in  his  way,  but  a 
bundle  of  staves  would  burden  and  weary 
him.  Would  men  but  stop  a  little  and  ask 
themselves.  What  is  this  I  do  ?  What  do  I 
aim  at  in  all  my  turmoil  ?  it  might  possibly 
recall  them.  Would  they  but  hear  Solomon's 
question,  Eccl.  v.  11,  and  tell  h\m,  what  good 
the  rich  have  of  possessing  more  than  they  use, 
b]it  only  the  beholding  of  them  with  their  eyes. 
If  there  be  ai  ."thing  more,  it  is  more  care 
and  trouble,  curr?  circum  larpieata  tecta  vo- 
lantes.  He  that  hath  a  hundred  rooms,  hath 
but  one  body  ;  he  can  lodge  but  in  one  at 
once.  He  that  might  have  sea  and  land  ran- 
sacked for  delicates  of  his  table,  haih  himself 
but  one  appetite  to  serve  with  them  all. 

Then,  consider,  that  beyond  the  bounds ot 
this  petition,  if  a  man  once  pass,  there  be  no 
bounds  after  ;  he  knows  not  where  to  stay. 
Depinge  vhi  si  slam.  One  thousand  would 
have  something  more,  to  save  it  unspent ; 
and  when  that  grows  a  little,  it  is  best  even 
to  make  another  thousand,  and  save  that  too, 
and  fall  a  scraping  for  more. 

And  if  this  is  always  a  phrensy,  most  of  all 
in  these  times.  Behold,  says  God  to  Baruch, 
/  v)ill  break  down  that  which  I  have  built,  and 
that  which  J  have  planted  will  I  pluck  up,  even 
this  whole  land,  and  seekest  thou  great  things 
for  thyself?  Jer.  xlv.  4,  5. 

But  is  it  not  wisdom  to  be  provident,  and  to 
see  far  before  a  man  ?  And  to  look  no  farther 
but  to  the  present,  is  it  not  the  character  of 
a  fool  ?  True,  it  is  indeed  ;  and  therefore, 
the  truly  wise  man  despises  this  providence 
for  a  base,  uncertain  life,  and  is  content  if 
alive  but  from  one  day  to  another.  But 
there  is  a  higher  design  in  his  head,  a  provi- 
dence of  a  farther  reach,  that  sees  afar  oflT, 
indeed,  to  make  himself  an  estate  for  eterni- 
ty. That  takes  up  his  thoughts  and  pains  ; 
the  other  is  the  grossest  short-sightedness,  to 
look  no  farther  than  a  moment ;  it  is  indeed, 
/im.Tmffii.,  as  St.  Peter  speaks.  But  that  life 
the  Christian's  eye  is  upon,  is  of  another  na- 
ture, where  none  of  these  poor  things  shall 
have  place,  no  marrying  nor  giving  in  mar- 
riage, as  our  Savior  says ;  so,  no  eating  or 
drinking,  no  need  of  bread,  nor  of  this  prayer 
for  it ;  but  we  shall  be  as  the  angels  of  God. 

And  forgive  us  our  debts  as  ive  forgive  our 
debtors.]  Thy  loving  kindness,  says  David, 
is  better  than  life:  therefore,  this  request  rises 
above  the  former.     Ji  it,  we  sought  bread 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


613 


for  the  present  ife  ;  in  this  we  entreat  his  fa- 
vor :  not  con,  nor  wine,  nor  oil,  but  that 
which  ^iads  t'lie  heart  more  than  them  all, 
the  liir/it  of  his  cnu/ilenance  ;  that  the  thick 
cloud  of  our  sins  be  dispelled  by  a  free  pardon, 
as  he  promises,  Tsa.  xliv.  2. 

In  this  petition  we  have,  1.  The  request. 
2.  The  clause  added. 

Forrrive  us  our  debts.  That  which  is  here 
called  debts,  St.  Luke  haih  sins  ;  and  here,  in 
the  observation  our  Savior  adds,  they  are 
called,  -a'ia7:T,:.,Mra.  offcfices.  Now  sin,  as 
it  is  called  a  debt,  is  taken  for  the  guiltiness 
of  sin,  which  is  no  other  than  pcenas  debere, 
to  oive  the  suffering  of  punishment,  or  an 
obligeraent  to  the  curse  which  the  Law  hath 
pronounced  against  sin  ;  and  because  this  re- 
sults so  immediately  from  s.i,  therefore,  sin 
is  often  put  for  the  engagement  to  punish- 
ment ;  so  the  apostle's  phrase,  1  Cor.  xv.  uli., 
may  be  taken.  So  then,  the  debt  of  sin  being 
the  tie  to  punishment  which  follows  upon  it, 
the  forgiving  of  sin  can  be  no  other  than  the 
acquitting  of  a  man  from  that  curse,  setting 
him  free  from  his  debt,  his  engagement  to 
suffer  :  and  iherei'ore,  to  imagine  a  forgive- 
ness of  sin  with  retaining  of  the  punishment, 
is  direct  nonsense,  and  a  contradiction. 

To  pass  the  words  of  this  request  through 
our  mouths,  as  the  rest,  is  an  easy  and  com- 
mon thing,  but  altogether  fruitless  ;  but  to 
offer  it  as  a  spiritual  supplication  of  the  heart 
unto  God,  is  a  thing  done  but  by  a  few  ;  and 
to  as  many  as  do  offer  it  so,  it  never  returns 
in  vain,  but  is  certainly  granted.  Now,  to 
offer  it  so,  as  a  lively  spiritual  suit  unto  Ood, 
there  are  necessarily  supposed  in  the  soul 
that  presents  it,  these  things:  — 

1.  A  clear  conviction  and  deep  sense  of  the 
guiltiness  of  sin.  Both  in  general,  what  this 
guiltiness  is,  what  is  that  debt  which  sin  en- 
gages us  in,  that  misery  to  which  it  binds  us 
over  ;  as,  first,  the  deprivement  of  happiness, 
the  loss  of  God  and  his  favor  for  ever:  and 
secondly,  the  endless  endurance  of  his  wrath 
and  hottest  indignation,  and  all  the  anguish 
which  that  is  able  to  fill  the  soul  with  to  all 
eternity.  Unsufferable,  inconceivable  tor- 
ment, described  to  us  by  such  things  as  we 
can  understand,  but  going  infinitely  beyond 
them,  a  gnawing  worm  that  dies  not,  and  a 
fire  that  can  not  be  quenched.  This  is  thi'. 
portion  of  the  sinner  from  God,  and  the  heri- 
tage  appointed  to  hm  by  God,  as  Zopbar 
speaks.  Job  xx.  29.  Then,  in  particular, 
there  n;iusi  be  a  seeing  of  our  own  guiltiness 
A  man  must  know  himself  to  be  nothing  else 
than  a  mass  of  sin,  and  so,  fuel  for  that  fire  ; 
must  see  himself  a  transgressor  of  the  whole 
law  of  God,  and  therefore  abundantly  liable 
to  thai  sentence  of  death. 

2.  Upon  this  apprehension  will  follow  a 
very  earnest  desire  to  be  free,  and  such  a 
word  as  that,  O  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who 
thnll  deliver  me  '.  And  seeing  no  way  either 
to  saiisfv  or  escape,  without  a  free  pardon,  the 
*oul  then  looks  upon  that  as  its  only  happi- 


ness,  with  David  :  Blessed  is  the  man — 0  the 
blessedness  of  that  man  ! — iv/iose  iniquity  is 
'  forgiven,  and  whose  sin  is  covered.  Psalm 
xxxii.  1. 

3.  In  this  request,  there  is  a  taking  of  it  as 
!  a  thing  attainable  :  for  it  is  implied  that  there 
!  is  no  impossibility  in  it.   And  this  arises  from 
]  the  protnises  of  God,and  the  tenor  of  ihe  cove- 
nant of  grace,  and  the  Mediator  of  that  cove- 
nant revealed  in  the  word,  apprehended  only 
in  their  general  tenor. 

4.  It  imports  an  humble  confession  of  guilti- 
ness before  the  Lord  :  as  it  follows  there,  Ps. 
xxxii.  5:  I  acknowledged  my  sin,  and  mine 
ini(/uiti/  have  I  not  hid.  The  way  to  find  God 
hiding  and  covering  it,  he  perceived,  was  for 
himself  not  to  hide  it.  The  way  to  be  ac- 
quitted at  God's  hand,  is  for  the  soul  with 
humility  and  grief  to  accuse  itself  before 
him. 

5.  Where  there  is  this  sensible  knowledge 
and  humble  acknowledgment  of  sin  and  mis- 
ery, and  earnest  desire  of  pardon,  then  doth 
a  man  truly  offer  this  suit  unto  God  with 
strong  affection.  Lord,  this  is  my  request,  thai 
my  sin  may  be  forgiven  ;  and  prays  it  in  faith, 
which  is  a  more  particular  laying  hold  on  the 
promises,  believing  that  he  will  forgive,  and 
therefore  waits  for  an  answer,  to  hear  that 
voice  of  joy  and  g/«^/«c5,?,  as  David  speaks, 
P^alm  ii.  S,  to  hear  the  word  of  his  pardon 
from  God,  spoken  into  his  soul.  And  for  this 
cause  (beside  the  need  of  daily  pardon  for 
daily  sins),  the  most  godly  men  have  need  to 
renew  this  suit,  that,  together  with  pardon, 
they  may  obtain  the  comfortable  persuasion 
and  assurance  of  it.  And  though  they  have 
some  assurance,  yet,  there  be  further  degrees 
of  it  possible,  and  desirable,  clearer  evidences 
of  reconcilement  and  acceptance  with  God. 
Forgiveness  itself  is,  indeed,  the  main,  and  is 
often  granted  where  the  other,  the  assurance 
of  it,  is  withheld  for  a  time  :  but  there  is  no 
question  that  we  may,  yea,  that  we  ought  to 
desire  it,  and  seek  after  it.  He  is  blessea 
who  is  pardoned,  though  as  yet  he  know  it 
not  :  yet,  doul)tless,  it  abates  much  of  his  hap- 
piness for  the  time  that  he  does  not  know  it. 
Non  est  hentns,  esse  i/i/i  se  non  putet. 

The  philosopher  says,  I'he  poor  man  thinks 
him  happy  7vbo  is  iirh,  and  the  sick  man,  him 
who  IS  in  health  :  their  own  wants  make  them 
think  so.  Now,  this  forgiveness  of  sin  is  hap- 
piness indeed  ;  yet  a  man  must  first  feel  the 
want  of  it,  before  he  judge  so.  But  here  is 
the  difference:  when  he  hath  obtained  it,  he 
shall  think'so  still  :  whereas  the  other,  being 
tried,  are  f(;und  to  fall  short,  and  do  not  makt 
any  man  happy. 

Seeing  this  is  a  request  of  so  great  moment, 
may  we  not  wonder  at  ourselves,  that  we  are 
so  cold  and  indifferent  in  it?  But  the  true 
reason  of  this  is,  because  so  few  are  truly 
sensible  of  this  heavy  debt,  of  the  weight  of 
sin  unpardoned.  A  man  who  fei'ls  it  not, 
prays  thus,  not  much  troubling  his  thoughts 
whether  it  be  granted  or  no  ;  but  he  who  is 


614 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAITIR 


iink'cd  ])ressecl  with  the  burden  of  sin,  cries 
ill  ciiriiesi,  Lord,  fur s^/rc.  David  knew  what 
he  said,  when  lie  called  him  blessed  whosv  xm 
is  forLnrcn  ;  the  W(ird  is,  who  is  unloaded  o  f 
his  sin.  He  was  a  kini;,  and  a  great  captain, 
but  lie  says  not,  "  He  is  a  blessed  man  who 
wears  a  crown,  or  wlio  is  succes^lul  in  war," 
but,  "  Blessed  is  he  whose  sin  is  laUen  otl'  his 
shoulders  :  whatsoever  he  is  otherwise,  he  is 
a  happy  man."  It  is  in  vain  to  oiler  a  con- 
science groanin?  under  sin,  any  thing  else,  un- 
til it  be  eased  oi'  that.  If  you  should  see  a 
man  lying  grovelling  under  some  weight  that 
is  ready  to  press  him  to  death,  and  should 
bring  sweet  music  to  him,  and  cover  a  table 
with  delicacies  before  him,  but  let  him  lie 
still  under  his  burden,  could  he,  think  you, 
take  any  pleasure  in  those  things?  Were 
it  not  rather  lo  mock  him,  to  use  him  so? 

And  though  we  feel  it  not  as  troiitiled  con- 
sciences do,  yet.  We  are  truly  miserable  in  all 
enjoyments,  uniil  lliis  ibrtjiveness  be  cjbiained. 
To  wliat  purpose  daily  bread,  yea,  what  is 
the  greatest  abundance  of  all  outward  things, 
but  a  glitterinsr  misery,  if  this  be  wantin?? 
But  he  who  is  once  forgiven,  and  received  in- 
to favor  with  God,  what  can  befall  him  amiss  ? 
Though  he  hath  no  more  of  the  world  than 
dui/y  bread ,  and  of  the  coarsest  sort,  he  hath 
a  continual  least  within  :  as  he  that  said, 
"  Brown  bread  and  the  s-ospel,  is  good  fare." 
Now,  the  gospel  is  the  doctrine  of  this  for- 
giveness of  sin,  and  is  therefore  so  sweet  to 
an  humbled  sinner.  Yea,  though  a  man  have 
not  only  a  small  portion  of  earthly  comforts, 
but  be  under  divers  aflliciions  and  chasiise- 
inenls,  yet,  this  makes  him  cheerful  in  all  : 
as  Luther  said,  Fcri,  Domine,  &c.  Use  me 
\  as  thou  wilt,  seeing  thou  liast  I'orgiven  my 
sin,  all  is  well. 

Lastly,  as  there  must  be  earnest  desire  in 
the  request,  so,  withal,  firm  belief.  Ask  in 
faith.  If  once  thou  art  become  an  humble 
suiter  for  mercy,  and  that  is  the  yreat  desire 
of  thy  heart,  that  God  would  take  away  thy 
sin,  and  be  reconciled  to  thee;  then  know, 
that  he  will  not  cast  back  thy  petition  in  dis- 
pleasure. Now,  he  is  graciou.s  and  whatso- 
ever thou  hast  been,  consider  what  he  is. 
Doth  he  receive  any  for  anythini;  in  them- 
selves ?  What  is  the  cause  he  pardons  any  ? 
Is  it  not  for  his  own  name's  sake  ?  Isa.  xliii. 
25.  And  will  not  that  reason  serve  for  tliee, 
as  much  as  for  others  ?  Will  it  not  avail  for 
inanv  sins,  ns  weK  as  for  lew  ?  Hast  thou 
multiplied  sin  often,  abused  his  mercy,  but 
now  iiiournest  bet'ore  him  for  it?  Then  he 
will  multiply  pardon.  Isa.  Iv.  7  ;  Jer.  iii.  1. 
Thou  bast  rebelled  much,  but  he  is  thy  Fa- 
ther, and  hath  the  bowels  of  a  father  to  a  re- 
penting child.  And  this  style  we  give  liim  in 
this  prayer,  as  fitly  urging  all  <.ur  suits.  Fa- 
ther, fonsive  ns  our  sms  :  ther'fore  forgive, 
because  thou  art  our  Father.  And  then  con- 
sider, that  he  who  puts  this  petiiii>n,  amonsj 
ihe  rest,  in  our  mouths,  hath  salislied  for  be- 
lievers, paid  all  tlieir  scores,  and  answered 


justice  to  the  full, and  in  him  we  are  forgiven 
it  is  a  free  for:,'iveness  to  us,  though  be  halh 
jiaid  for  il  ;  and  he  himself  was  freely  givt-ti 
to  us,  to  undertake  and  satisfy  for  us.  Ye!, 
let  not  any  thus  embolden  themselves  to  sin  ; 
this  Were  the  grossest  impudence,  lo  come  to 
crave  pardon  of  sin  while  we  delight  i  >  it, 
and  to  desire  it  to  be  forgiven,  while  we  have 
no  mind  to  part  with  it  and  forsake  it.  For 
this  jirivilege  belongs  onlv  to  repenting  and 
returning  sinners. 

.4.?  ICC  forgive  our  debtors.]  This  is  added 
both  as  a  fit  motive  for  us  to  use  with  God, 
and  as  a  suitable  duty  that  he  requires  of  us. 
The  former  we  may  jierceive  in  the  manner 
that  St.  Luke  hath  it :  For  we  also  forgive 
every  one  that  is  indebted  to  ns.  Thou,  Lord,  ^ 
requircst  of  us  to  forgive  others,  and  thou 
workest  it  in  some  of  us  to  do  so  :  how  much 
m{)re  th(ni  may  we  hope,  thou  wilt  forgive 
us?  If  there  be  any  such  coudness  in  us,  i* 
is  from  thee,  and  therefore  is  inlinitely  more 
in  thyself,  as  the  ocean  of  goodness. 

Again,  this  is  likewise  a  very  profitable  ar 
gunient  to  move  us  to  this  duty  ;  as  we  sec 
clearly  by  our  Savior's  reiurnini;  to  speak  of 
it  after  the  prayer:  it  is  not  only  bound  upon 
us  by  this  precept,  but  by  our  prayer. 

This  (as),  just  as  before  in  the  third  i)eti- 
!  tion,  meafts  not  equality  in  the  degree,  bu' 
conformity  in  the  thing. 

i     Now,  the  request  running  thus,  they  who  dc 
not  foririve  their  brethren,  turn  il  inio  a  most 
heavy  curse  to  themselves,  and,  in  effect,  pray 
daily.  Lord,  never  forgive  me  /«;/  sin.  And 
whether  they  sav  tiiis  or  no,  he  will  do  thus, 
if  we  be  such  fools  as  not  lo  accept  of  such 
an  a£rreement.    He  halh  intinite  debt  upon 
our  heads,  ihat  we  shall  never  be  able  to  |)ay  : 
i  now,  though  there  is  no  pro[)ortion,  yt't  be  is 
graciously  [)leased,  without  further  reckoning, 
to  I'orgive  us  all,  and  discharge  us  fully,  if  we 
accept  (as  it  were)  of  this  his  letter  of  ex- 
change, and  for  his  sake  forgive  our  brethren 
\  the  few  pence  that  at  the  most  they  can  be 
'  owinir  us,  in  lieu  of  the  thousands  of  talents 
1  that  he  accjuits  to  us.  And  by  this  as  our  cer- 
,  tain  evidence,  we  mav  be  assured  of  our  par- 
don, and  rejoice  in  it,  as  our  Savit)r  after 
(dearly  allirms  ;  and  therefore,  on  the  conlra- 
I  ry  (which  he  likewise  tells  us),  may  well 
take  our  debaies,  and  hatreds,  and  desires  of 
revenge,  as  a  countersign,  testifying  to  us 
that  we  are  not  forgiven  at  (xod's  hand. 

And  think  not  to  satisfy  him  with  sujierfi- 
cial  forgivenesses  and  reconcilements.  Would 
we  be  content  with  such  pardon  from  Gi;d.  tc 
have  only  a  present  forbearance  of  revensre, 
or  that  he  should  not  quarrel  with  us,  but  no 
further  friendship  with  him  :  that  he  should 
eilheruse  strangeness  with  us, and  not  speak 
to  us,  or  only  for  fiishion's  sake?  And  yet, 
such  are  many  of  our  reconcilements  with 
our  brethren.  God's  way  of  forgiving  is  thor- 
ough  and  hearty,  both  to  forgive  and  to  forget 
(as  Jer.  x.xxi.)  ;'  and  if  thine  be  not  so,  ihoL 
I  hast  no  portion  in  his. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


615 


What  a  base,  miserable  humor  is  this  same 
desire  of  revenge,  ihis  sjjirit  of  malice  that 
possesses  men,  and  they  think  themselves 
brave  in  it,  that  they  forgive  no  injuries,  can 
put  up  with  no  affronts,  as  they  speak  !  Solo- 
mon was  of  another  mind,  and  he  was  a  king, 
and  a  wise  king,  and  knew  well  enough  what 
honor  meant :  Ii.  is  the.  srtory  of  a  man  to  pass 
hy  a  transgnss/nn,  said  he.  Proverbs  xix.  11. 
And  we  see,  inferior  magistrates  and  officers 
may  punish  :  but  it  is  a  part  of  the  preroga- 
tive of  kings  to  pardon  :  it  is  royal  to  forsrive, 
yea,  it  is  Divine,  it  is  to  be  like  a  God.  Matt.  v. 
44-43:  Be  you  ■perfect,  as  your  heavenly  Fa- 
ther IS  perfect — and  the  perfection  is.  Do  good 
to  them  that  persecute  you,  fee.  a.?, he  causeth 
the  sun  to  shine  on  the  jvsl  and  the  unjust. 

There  is  more  true  pleasure  in  forsiving, 
than  ever  any  man  found  in  revenge.  Father 
Desales  said,  that  "  Whereas  men  think  it  so 
hard  a  thin?  to  forgive  a  wron!?,  he  found  it 
so  sweet,  that,  if  the  contrary  were  command- 
ed him,  he  would  have  much  ado  to  obey  it." 
Were  the  law  of  love  written  in  our  hearts, 
it  would  be  thus  with  us.  It  would  teach  us 
effectually  to  forgive  others,  if  we  knew  and 
found  in  our  experience  the  boundless  love  of 
God  in  forgiving  us. 

And  lead  us  not  into  temptation,  hut  deliv- 
er us  from  evil.]  As  the  doctrine  of  Divine 
mercy,  mistaken  and  abused  by  carnal  minds, 
emboldens  them  to  sin  :  so,  beina-  riijlitly  ap- 
prehended ami  applied,  there  is  nothing  more 
powerful  to  possess  tiie  heart  with  indigna- 
tion against  sin,  and  love  of  holmess.  So  that 
this  request  agree  mosi  fitly  with  the  former  : 
where  that  is  presented  aright,  the  heart  will 
be  no  less  sincere  and  earnest  in  this  other. 
The  guiltiness  of  sin,  and  the  prevailing  pow- 
er of  it,  are  the  two  evils  which  the  godly 
feel  more  than  all  other  pressures  in  the 
world.  Deliverance  from  both,  is  jointlv 
promised  in  the  new  covenant  (Jer.  xxxi.  33, 
34),  and  is  here  jointlv  entreated  in  these 
two  petitions.    We  shall  explain, 

I.  What  this  temptation  and  evil  is. 

II.  What  is  meant  by  not  leading  into  it, 
and  deliverina:  from  it. 

1.  'Temptation  ]  fn  the  original,  nt<ofiT,„;<. 
a  trial  :  that  which  ?ives  proof  of  a  man's 
strength,  and  of  his  disposition,  which  draws 
forth  what  is  wiihin  him.  And  thus,  inmost 
things  we  meet  withal  in  the  world,  there  is 
some  temptin'/  faculty,  to  try  us  what  we  are, 
on  the  using  of  them.  But  especially  such 
things  as  are  more  eminent  in  their  nature, 
that  have  much  power  with  us:  as  eminent 
place  and  public  charge  try  both  the  ability 
dnd  integrity  of  men  :  affliciions  try  the  faith 
and  stability  of  men's  minds:  injuries  try 
whi!iher  they  are  truly  meek  and  patient  or 
no  :  they  stir  the  water  that  was  possibly  clear 
at  top,  and  so  try  whether  it  be  not  muddy  at 
the  bottom. 

But  by  temptation  .icre,  are  meant,  occa- 
sions md  provocations  to  sin.  So,  likewise, 
-He  word  'ei'.lj  in  the  other  clause,  is  not  to 


be  taken  for  afflictions  and  crosses,  but,  for 
the  eril  of  sin,  or  for  that  evil  one,  as  he  is 

I  called,  1  John  ii.  13  ;  and  that,  particularly  in 
relation  to  the  evil  of  sin,  wherein  he  hath  so 
frequent  and  so  great  a  hand. 

There  be  outward  things  which  are  not  in 
themselves  evil,  and  yet  prove  temptations  to 
us,  because  they  meet  with  a  depraved,  cor- 
rupt heart  in  us;  as  riches,  and  honor,  and 
beauty,  and,  to  intemperance,  dainty  meals, 
or  the  ivine  when  it  is  red  in  the  cup,  as  Solo- 
mon speaks  :  and  upon  these,  men  sometimes 
turn  over  the  blame  of  their  disorders,  but 
most  foolishly. 

Other  temptations  and  tempters  there  be 
without  us,  which  are  themselves  evil,  and, 
by  tempting,  partake  of  our  sin  ;  the  profane 
example  and  customs  of  the  world  ;  ungodly 
men,  by  their  practices,  and  counsels,  and  en- 
ticements, drawing  others  to  sin,  putting  oth- 

j  ers  into  the  same  mire  wherein  they  are  wal- 
lowing. 

I  But  the  most  effectual  tempter  of  all.  is  that 
I  which  the  Apostle  St.  James  sfives  as  the 
chief,  and  without  which,  indeed,  none  other 
could  prevail.  James  i.  14:  Every  man  it 
tempted,  of  his  own  concupiscence.  Whoso- 
ever it  is  that  begets  it,  that  is  the  womb 
wherein  all  sin  is  conceived,  and  that  brings 
it  forth,  as  he  there  adds  :  yea,  this  were  able 
of  itself  to  be  fruitful  in  sin,  though  there 
were  not  a  devil  to  tempt  it  to  it,  and  doth  no 
doubt  often  tempt  us  without  his  help. 

Yet  liecause  he  is  so  continually  busied  in  this 
work,  is  so  constant  a  stickler  in  the  greatest 
part  of  sins  in  the  world,  iherefore,  it  is  not 
unlikely  that  this  is  particularly  meant  of  him. 

Howsoever,  he  is,  out  of  doul)t,  the  ijreatest 
of  all  inward  lenipters  (and  therefore  it  is  per- 
I  tinent  to  consider  liis  share  in  tliem).  the  most 
skilful,  the  most  active  and  diligent,  and  he 
that  manages  all  other  kind  of  temptations 
against  us,  both  such  as  are  without  us  in  the 
world  and  such  as  are  within  us:  he  works 
upon  our  own  corruption,  stirring  and  blow- 
ing it  up  by  his  sugffesiions,  and  sometimes 
throwing  in  halls  of  his  own  infernal  fire, 
which  are  grievous  and  abominable  to  the 
soul  into  which  he  casts  them.    It  is  his  name 
and  profession,  d  w lo.njt.ii',  that  trront  pirate,  who 
robsuixm  all  spas,  who  is  every  wherecaiching 
!  the  souls  of  men.    And  he  is  well  seen  in  hist 
!  trade,  a  known  spirit,  who  manifested  his  skill 
I  shrewdly  in  his  first  essay  airtiinst  man  ;  that 
serpent's  first  poison  killed  the  whole  race  of 
mankind  :  and  now  he  is  ()erfe(-te(l  by  long 
'  experience  and  practice,  hath  his  methods, 
!  as  arts  after  a  time  are  drawn  into  method, 
lie  hath  his  topics,  his  several  sorts  of  temp- 
tations for  several  tempers,  and  hath  sreat 
insight  into  the  subject  he  is  to  work  upon, 
anri  so  fits  the  one  to  the  other. 

The  profane,  who  will  be  oasily  drawn  to 
)  the  grossest  sins,  he  is  not  at  the  pains  to  find 
out  other  wavs  for  them,  but  hiirrie«  t'>om 
alon<i;  in  that  hisliway  to  destruction,  using 
his  advantaire  either  of  their  sross  isrnorancr 


R16 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


or  hardness  of  heart.  Oiherr,  wlio  are  re- 
jolvfil  to  live  outwardly  lilameless,  he  en- 
deavors to  take  and  hold  fast  to  himself  by 
pride,  and  self-love,  and  malice,  and  covet- 
ousncss,  hy  forntaliiy  in  reliixion,  unbelief; 
which  are  things,  though  smaller  wrought 
than  some  others,  yet,  there  are  as  strong,  and 
hjld  men  as  (atst  to  be  led  captive  at  his  will. 

And  the  godly,  because  they  are  escaped 
and  set  free  frtini  his  tyranny,  and  be  is  despe- 
rate of  reducing  them,  yet,  because  he  can 
do  no  more,  be  is  sure  to  be  a  perpetual  vex- 
ation and  trouble  to  them,  so  far  as  he  is  let 
loose  :  be  is  most  unwearied  in  bis  assaults, 
gives  them  no  respite,  neither  when  he  gains 
pon  them,  nor  when  he  is  foiled  and  re- 
^  ulsed. 

II.  Let  us  next  consider  what  the  request 

— not  to  be  led  into  temptation,  and,  to  be 
•  elivercd  from  evil. 

Lead  us  not.']  Not  that  God  doth  solicit  a 
,iian  to  sin,  for  that  is  most  contrary  to  his 
>nost  pure  nature:  as  St.  James  tells  usplain- 
1  y.  He  is  neither  so  tempted,  nor  tempts  he  'iny. 
But  his  leading  into  temptation  is,  briefly, 
[L]  To  permit  a  man  to  be  tempted.  [2.] 
To  withdraw  his  grace,  and  so  deliver  up  a 
man  into  the  hand  or  power  of  temptation. 
Now  this  is  what  we  pray,  that  the  i^ord 
would  be  pleased  either  to  bear  off  assaults 
from  us,  and  suffer  us  not  to  be  tempted  ;  or, 
if  he  let  temptation  loose  upon  us,  yet,  to  give 
us  the  belter,  to  order  it  so  that  it  overcome 
us  not.  That  which  is  here  meant,  by  lead- 
ing or  carrying  us  into  temptation,  is,  the 
prevailing  of  it,  or  leading  us  into  a  foil,  and 
this  we  pray  that  he  would  not  do:  that,  if 
he  do  bring  us  into  the  conflict  of  a  tempta- 
tion, he  Would  not  leave  us  there,  but  bring  us 
fair  off  again.  And  thus  the  whole  petition 
runs.  Lead  usiiot,  hut  deliver  ns.  And  in  this 
it  is  implied,  tliat  be  would  furnish  us,  with  his 
own  grace,  the  holy  liabitsof  grace  to  be  within 
us,  as  a  constant  garrison  ;  and  then,  that  either 
he  countermand  our  enemy  from  assaulting, 
or  that  they  be  such  as  overmatch  ncjt  the 
sirength  he  bath  given  us,  but  may  be  below 
it;  or,  that  be  send  us  the  auxiliary  strength 
of  supervenient,  assisting  grace  to  that  we 
have,  that  howsoever,  the  forces  that  come 
jigainst  us  may  be  turned  backward,  and  we 
may  have  the  comfort,  and  he  the  glory,  of 
our  victories. 

So,  then,  in  this  we  are  taught,  1.  To  know 
the  danger  wherein  we  are  ;  that  we  live  in 
the  midst  of  enemies,  and  such  as  are  strong 
and  subtle  ;  that  we  have  the  prince  of  dark- 
ness plotting  against  us,  and  the  treacherous 
corruption  of  our  own  beans  ready  to  keep 
correspondence  with  him,  and  betray  us  to 
liim  ;  that  he  bath  gins  and  snares  laid  for  us 
in  all  our  ways,  lai/ueos  uhii/ue,  la(/ueos  in 
tibo  el  potu,  as»Augustine  speaks — snares  in 
our  solitude  and  in  our  converse,  and  in  our 
eating  and  drinking,  yea,  snares  in  our  s])irit- 
tial  exercise,  our  hearing,  preaching,  prayer, 
kc,  R"''  therefore,  as  he  here  leaches  us  to 


pray  against  them,  we  must  join  that,  fl.| 
To  loatch  against  them.    \2.  \  'fo  be  sensible 
of  our  own  weakness  and  insulliciency,  either 
for  avoiding  or  overcoming  these  dangeis. 
1 3.]  To  know  the  all-suflicient  strength  of 
God,  his  sovereign  power  over  all  adverse 
powers,  that  they  are  all  under  his  command, 
so  that  he  can  keep  them  oil  irt  tn  us,  or  sub- 
due them  under  us,  as  be  pleaseth  ;  and  .«o  to 
have  our  recourse  lo  ibis,  and  r^st  in  it.  The 
firsi  of  these  considerations,  if  it  take  with  Js, 
will  stir  us  up  to  watchfulness,  and  the  other 
two  will  persuade  to  prayer:  and  these  are 
the  two  great  preservatives  against  tempta- 
tion which  our  Savior  prescribes  ;  Watch  and 
fray  lest  you  enter  into  temptation.  Watch 
1  — How  can  we  sleep  secure,  and  so  many 
enemies  that  sleep  not  ?     If  we  pray  and 
watch  not,  we  tempt  God,  and  we  lead  our- 
I  selves  .ito  temptation.    It  is  our  duty  (mock 
1  the  w.,rd  who  will),  to  walk  exactly  or  pre- 
'  cisely  «vnc,'?,r.s,  to  look  to  every  step,  to  beware 
of  the  least  sins.    For,  [l.J  they  by  multitude 
'  make  a  great  weight.    [2.]  They  prove  usual- 
I  ly  introductions  to  creaier  sins.    Admit  but 
some  inordinate  desire  into  your  heart,  that 
you  account  a  small  matter,  and  it  is  a  hun- 
dred to  one  but  it  shall  prove  a  little  thief  got 
'  in,  to  open  the  door  to  a  number  of  greater : 
as  the  Rabbins  speak,  a  less  evil  brings  a  man 
into  the  bands  of  a  greater.* 

2.  Avoid,  not  only  sins,  but  the  incentives 
and  occasions  to  sin.  As  St.  Chrysostom 
observes  well  that  exhortation  of  our  Savior, 
Wlien  they  shall  say,  here  is  Christ,  and  there 
is  ' Christ,  he  says  not.  Believe  them  not,  but 
go  not  forth  to  see.  And  Solomon's  instruc- 
tion for  avoiding  the  allurements  of  the 
strange  woman,  says  not  only.  Go  7iot  in,  but 
come  not  near  the  door  of  her  house.  The 
way  of  sin  is  motus  in  procliri,  down-hill :  a 
man  can  not  stop  where  be  would  ;  and  he 
that  will  be  tampering  with  dangerous  occa- 
sions, in  cjnfidence  of  bis  resolution,  shall  find 
himself  often  carried  beyond  his  purpose.  If 
you  pray,  then,  watch  too.  But  as  that  word 
commands  our  diligence,  so  this  imports  our 
weakness  in  ourselves,  and  our  strength  to 
be  in  another;  that  as  we  watch,  we  must 
pray  ;  and  without  this,  we  shall  watch  in 
vain,  and  be  a  prey  to  our  enemy.  Truly, 
had  we  no  power  beyond  our  own,  we  might 
give  over,  and  be  hopeless  of  coming  through 
to  salvation,  so  many  enemies  and  hazards 
in  the  way.  Alas!  might  a  Christian  say, 
looking  upon  the  multitude  of  temptations 
without,  and  of  corru|)iions  within  himself, 
and  the  weakness  of  ilie  grace  he  hath,  how 
Can  this  he  ?  Shall  lever  attain  my  journey''* 
end?  But  again,  when  he  looks  upward, 
and  lifts  bis  eyes  above  his  difficulties,  heboid, 
the  strength  of  God  engaged  for  him,  directs 
his  prayers  to  him  for  help,  and  is  assured  to 
find  it  ;  this  upholds  him,  and  answers  all. 
There  is  roaring  lion  that  seeks  lo  devour, 
but  there  is  a  strong  rescuing  lion.  The  Iioa 
*  Levins  malum  inducit  in  manus  gravioris.  DbUS 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  LORD'S  FRAYER. 


617 


o  f  the  tribe  of  Judah,  who  will  deliver.  The 
God  of  ■peace,  says  the  ai)OStle,  will  bruise 
Satan  under  your  feet  shortly.  Rom.  xvi.  20. 
He  says  not,  we  shall  bruise  him  under  our 
leet,  but  God  shall  do  it.  Yet,  he  says  not, 
he  shall  bruise  him  under  his  own  feet,  but 
under  yours  :  the  victory  shall  be  ours,  though 
wrought  by  him.  And  he  shall  do  it  shortly  : 
wait  a  while,  and  it  shall  be  done.  And  the 
God  of  peace,  because  he  is  the  God  of  peace, 
ht  sliall  subdue  that  grand  disturber  of  your 
peace,  and  shall  give  you  a  perfect  victory, 
and,  after  it,  endless  peace  :  he  shall  free  you 
of  his  trouble  and  molestation.  Grace  is  a 
stranger  here,  and  therefore  hardly  used,  and 
hated  by  many  foes  ;  but  there  is  a  promise 
of  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  where  dwells 
righteousness  :  there  it  shall  be  at  home  and 
in  quiet ;  no  spoiling  nor  robbery  in  all  that 
holy  mountain. 

For  thine  is  the  kingdom,  the  power,  and 
the  glory,  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen. 

This  pattern,  we  know,  is  the  line  under 
which  all  our  prayers  ought  to  move :  all  our 
requests  are  to  be  conformred  to  it,  and  are 
certainly  out  of  their  way,  when  they  decline 
and  wander  from  it.  And  if  we  observe  it, 
we  may  clearly  perceive  it  is  a  circular  line  (as, 
indeed,  the  exercise  of  prayer  is  a  heavenly 
motion,  circular  as  that  of  the  heavens)  ;  it 
begins  and  ends  in  the  same  point,  the  glory 
of  that  God  lo  whom  we  pray,  and  who  is  the 
God  that  heareih  [)rayer.  In  that  point  this 
prayer  begins,  and  here  ends  in  it;  so  that 
our  requests  which  concern  ourselves  are  cast 
in  the  middle,  that  all  our  desires  may  move 
within  this  circle: — though  the  things  we 
pray  for  concern  ourselves,  yet,  they  are  not 
lo  terminate  in  ourselves,  but  in  him  who  is 
Alpha  and  Omega,  the  Beginning  and  the  End 
of  all  things.  We  are  to  desire,  not  only  the 
blessings  of  this  life,  but  the  blessedness  of 
the  life  to  come,  more  for  his  glory  than  for 
our  own  good. 

This  is  genuine  and  pure  love  to  God,  in 
the  pardon  of  our  sins  and  sal  vation,  to  rejoice 
more  in  the  glory  of  Divine  mercy,  than  in 
our  own  personal  happiness.  Thus  it  shall 
be  with  us,  when  we  sliall  be  put  in  posses- 
sion of  it,  and  we  ouijht  to  aspire  to  that 
tiieasure  of  the  same  mind  which  can  be  at- 
tained here,  while  we  are  in  the  desire  and 
hope  o(  it. 

For  thine  is  the  kingdom.']  Though  this 
clause  is  left  out  in  divers  translations,  and 
wanting  in  some  Greek  copies,  yet  it  is  so 
agreeable  to  the  nature  of  prayer,  and  to  the 
perfection  of  this  prayer,  that  we  ought  not 
to  lei  it  pass  unconsidered. 

There  is  in  it  an  enforcement  of  our  prayer; 
but  especially,  it  is  a  return  of  praise.  Good 
reason  we  should  desire  earnestly  the  sancti- 
fying of  thy  name,  and  the  coming  of  thy 
kingdom,  and  obedience  to  thy  will,  seeing 
these  ire  so  [  cculiarly  due  to  thee,  namely, 
kingdom,  and  poti-'-r,  ami  '^lory.  And  seeing 
thou  art  so  great  and  rich  a  king,  may  we  not 
78 


crave  with  confidence  at  thy  hands  all  need- 
ful good  things  to  be  bestowed  on  us,  and 
that  all  evil  may  be  averted  from  us  ;  that  we 
may  find  thee  gracious  to  us,  both  in  giving 
and  forgiving ;  and  as  in  forgiving  us  the  guilti- 
ness of  sins,  so,  in  freeing  us  from  the  power 
of  sin,  and  preserving  us  from  thje  power  ol 
our  spiritual  enemies  that  would  draw  us  in- 
to sin?  We  are  under  thy  royal  protection, 
we  are  thy  subjects,  yea,  thy  children,  thou 
art  our  king  and  Father  ;  so  that  thy  honor 

i  is  engaged  for  our  defence.  Whatsoever  sum 
our  debts  amount  to,  they  are  not  too  great 
for  such  a  King  to  forgive  ;  they  can  not  rise 
above  thy  royal  goodness,  and  wliatsoever  be 

]  our  enemies,  all  their  force  is  not  above  thy 
sceptre  ;  though  they  be  strong,  too  strong 
for  us,  yet,  thou  art  much  too  strong  for  them, 

j  for  power  is  thine.    And  this  we  know,  that 

I  all  the  good  thou  dost  us  will  bring  back 
glory  to  thy  name,  and  it  is  that  we  most 
desire,  and  that  which  is  thy  due  ;  the  glory 
is  thine. 

Thus  we  see  all  our  grounds  of  argument 
for  our  requests  are  in  God,  none  of  them  in 
ourselves  :  as  we  find  this  in  the  prayers  of 
I  the  prophets.  For  thine  own  glory,  and  for 
thine  own  name''s  sake.  There  is  nothing  in 
ourselves  to  move  God  by,  but  abundance  of 
misery  :  and  that  moves  not,  but  by  reason 
of  his  bounty  ;  so  still,  the  cause  of  his  hear- 
ing, and  the  argument  of  our  entreating,  are 
in  himself  alone.  Were  it  net  thus,  how 
could  we  hope  to  prevail  with  him  ?  Yea, 
how  durst  we  offer  to  come  unto  him  ?  It  is 
well  for  us,  there  is  enough  in  himself  doth 
to  encourage  us  to  come,  and  to  furnish  us 
with  motives  to  persuade  him  by,  that  we 
come  not  in  vain.  Moses  had  not  a  word  to 
say  for  the  people  in  themselves:  such  was 
their  carriage,  his  mouth  was  stopped  that 
way  ;  yet,  he  doth  not  let  go  this,  what  wilt 
thou  do  with  thy  mighty  name  ?  It  is  true, 
they  have  trespassed,  yet,  if  thou  destroy 
them,  thy  name  will  suffer.  Lord,  consider 
and  regard  that.  And  we  know  the  success 
of  it.  Thus,  a  Christian  for  himself  may 
plead:  "Lord,  I  am  most  unworthy  ofall  those 
things  I  request  of  thee,  but,  whatsoever  I  am, 
thou  art  a  liberal  and  mighty  king,  and  it  is 
thy  glory  to  do  good  freely  ;  therefore  it  is  that 
I  come  unto  thee:  my  necessities  drive  me  to 
thee,  and  thy  goodness  draws  me,  and  the 
poorer  and  wretcheder,  I  am,  the  greater  will 
be  thy  glory  in  helping  me." 

But  it  is  withal,  an  extolling  and  praising 
of  the  greatness  of  God,  and  so  we  are  to 
consider  it. 

Thrne  is  the  kingdom.  Other  kings  and 
kingdoms  there  be,  hut  they  are  as  nothing, 
they  deserve  not  the  naming,  in  comparison 
of  thine.  They  are  but  kings  of  little  mole- 
hills, to  the  bouiuls  of  thy  dcjuiinion.  The 
greatest  kingdoms  of  the  woild  are  but  small 
parcels,  of  this  globe  ol'  earth,  and  itself  al- 
together, to  the  vast  circumference  of  the 
heavens,  is  as  nothing  —  loses  all  sensible 


CIS 


EXPOSITION  OF  TIIE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


grealnpss.  This  point  which  men  arc  so  husy 
dividinif  itiiong-  ih(>m  with  fire  and  sword, 
whai  if  ime  man  liad  liie  sovereignty  of  it 
all  ?  He  and  kingdnm  both  were  nothing  to 
tiiiue;  for  sea  and  land,  earth  and  heaven, 
and  all  the  crealures  in  ihem  all,  the  whole, 
all  is  thine.  Thciu  art  Lt)rd  of  heaven  and 
earth,  and  therefore,  the  kinsdom  is  thine. 
As  all  other  kingdoms  are  less  than  thine, 
so,  they  hold  of  tiiine.  thine  is  supreme  ;  all 
the  crowns  and  sceptres  of  tlie  earth  hang  at 
thy  footstool.  All  kings  owe  their  homage 
to  this  great  Kins,  and  lie  disposeth  of  their 
crowns  absolutely  and  uncontrolled  as  he 
will.  He  enthrones  and  detlirones  at  his 
pleasure,  throws  down  one  and  sets  up  an- 
other ;  as  we  havR  a  great  monarch  confes- 
sing it  at  length  upon  his  own  -experience, 
being  brought  doi/n  from  his  throne,  on  pur- 
pose to  iearn  'his  lesson,  and  was  seven  years 
in  learning  i'.  Dan.  iv.  34. 

The  jiow"  The  creatures  have  among 
them  seve«''(l  degrees  and  several  kinds  of 
power,  bi»'  tione  of  them,  nor  all  of  them  to- 
gether, h;' "e  all  power;  this  is  God's.  He 
is  all-powerful  in  himself,  primitively  power- 
ful. Ana  all  the  power  of  the  creatures  is 
derived  from  him  :  he  is  the  fountain  of  pow- 
er. So  that,  whatsoever  power  he  hath  given 
unto  men,  or  any  other  creature,  he  hatli  not 
given  away  from  himself:  it  is  still  in  him- 
self more  than  in  them,  and  at  his  pleasure 
he  can  call  it  back,  and  withdraw  the  influ- 
ence of  it,  and  then  they  remain  weak  and 
powerless.  And  when  he  gives  them  power, 
he  usetli  and  disposeth  of  both  them  and  their 
power  as  seems  him  good.  Therefore,  his 
style  is  The  Lord  of  Hosts.  He  can  com- 
mand more  armies  than  all  the  kings  and 
princes  of  tlie  earth  :  from  the  most  excel- 
lent, to  the  meanest  of  the  creatures,  all  are 
his  trained  bands  ;  from  the  host  of  glorious 
spirits,  to  the  very  armies  of  grasshoppers 
and  flies.  And  you  know,  that  as  an  angel 
was  employed  against  the  Egyptians,  so 
likewise  these  contenipiible  crealures  were 
upon  service  there  too,  and  being  armed  with 
commission  and  with  power  from  God,  did 
perform  the  service  upon  which  they  were 
sent  so  efl'ectually,  that  the  wisest  oi'  heathens 
were  forced  to  confess,  77;  ?.s  is  the  finoer  of  God. 

This  is  the  Lord  to  whom  we  address  our 
prayers,  who  can  not  fail  in  anything  for 
want  of  power,  for  He  doeth  what  he  will  in 
heaven  and  in  earth. 

The  glory.  In  these  two  consists  mainly 
the  eminency  of  kings,  in  their  power  and 
their  majesty  ;  but  ihey  exceed  not  the 
meanest  of  their  subjects,  so  far  as  this  King 
surpasscth  the  greatest  of  them  in  both  ; 
Psalm  xciii.  1  ;  Clothed  with  both  majesty 
and  strcii!!i k.  They  are  often  resisted,  and 
cut  short  of  their  designs  for  want  of  suffi- 
cient power,  and  are  (the  best  of  them)  often 
driven  to  straits  ;  sometimes  men,  sometimes 
money  or  munition,  or  some  other  necessary 
bslp  is  wanting,  and  so  iheir  enterprises  fall 


behind.    But  this  King  can  challenge  and 

defv  all  oppositions  ;  /  work,  says  he,  anc 
who  shall  let  it  1    Isa.  xliii.  13. 

And  as  their  power,  so,  their  majesty  ana 
glory  is  infinitely  short  of  his.  lie  is  thi 
King  of  glory,  as  the  psalmist  styles  him. 
Psalm  xxiv.  10,  alone  truly  glorious,  both  in 
the  excellency  of  his  own  nature  and  the  ex- 
trinsical glory  that  arises  to  him  out  of  his 
works.  Of  the  former,  we  can  know  bur. 
little  here,  for  that  light  wherein  he  dwells 
is  to  us  inaccessible  (1  Tim.  vi.  16)  ;  but  this 
we  know,  that  he  is  infinitely  above  all  the 
praises  even  of  those  that  do  behold  him. 
Ijikewise,  how  unspeakable  is  that  glory 
which  shines  in  his  works,  in  the  framing 
of  the  whole  world,  and  in  the  upholding 
and  ruling  of  it  from  the  beijinning !  In 
which  appear  the  i  vo  former  that  are  here 
ascribed  to  \\\xn,His  kingdom  and  his  ■power  ; 
and  so,  this  third.  His  glory,  springs  out  of 
both.  Then  if  we  consider  the  glorious  at- 
tendance that  is  continually  about  his  throne, 
as  the  Scriptures  describe  it  to  us,  it  drowns 
all  the  pomp  of  earthly  thrones  and  courts  in 
their  highest  degree.    See  Rev.  iv. 

For  ever.  This  kingdom,  and  power,  and 
glory  of  God,  besides  their  transcendent 
greatness,  have  this  advantage  beyond  ail 
other  kingdoms,  and  power,  and  glory,  that 
his  are  for  ever  and  ever,  all  other  are  per- 
ishing, nothing  but  pageants  and  shows  that 
appear  for  awhile,  and  pass  along  and  van- 
ish. It  was  a  wise  word  of  a  king  (espe- 
cially at  such  a  time),  when  he  \vas  riding  in 
a  stately  triumph,  and  asked  by  one  of  bis 
courtiers,  thinking  to  please  him,  What  is 
wanting  here  ?  he  answered  Continuance. 
Where  are  all  the  magnific  kings  that  have 
reigned  in  former  ages  ?  Where  is  their 
power  and  their  pom])  ?  Is  it  not  past  like  a 
dream?  And  not  only  are  the  kings  gone, 
but  the  kingdoms  themselves,  the  greatest  in 
the  world,  have  fallen  to  nothing  ;  they  had 
their  time  of  rising,  and  again  of  declining, 
and  are  buried  in  the  dust.  That  golden- 
headed  image  had  brittle  I'eet,  and  that  was 
the  ruin  and  break  of  it  all.  But  this  king- 
dom of  the  Most  High  is  an  everlasting  king- 
dom, and  his  glory  and  power  abide  for  ever. 

Not  only  things  on  earth  decay,  but  the 
verv  heavens  v)ax  old  as  a  garment,  says  the 
psalmist,  but  thou,  O  Lord,  art  still  the  same, 
and  thy  years  have  no  end. 

Refl.  i.  It  is  a  thing  of  very  great  impor- 
tance, for  us  to  have  our  hearts  esiabiished  ir 
the  belief  of  these  things,  and  to  be  frequent 
in  remembering  and  considering  them:  to 
know  that  the  kingdom  is  the  Lord's,  that  he 
sovereignly  rules  the  world  and  all  things 
in  it,  and  particularly  the  great  affairs  of  his 
church  :  that  he  is  the  mighty  God,  and 
therefore,  that  there  is  no  power,  or  wisdom, 
or  counsel  of  men,  able  to  prevail  against 
him  ;  and  that  in  those  thintrs  wherein  his 
glory  seems  to  suflTcr  for  the  present,  it  shal 
gain  and  be  advanceu  in  liie  close. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


619 


2.  Let  us  always,  and  in  all  things,  return 
ihis  to  hirii  as  his  peculiar  due:  Thine  is  the 
glo!  ij ;  it  belongs  to  thee,  and  to  none  other. 
Deo  (/lite  Dei  sunt :  To  God  the  things  which 
are  God's. 

3.  Let  us  think  most  reverently  of  God. 
Oh,  that  we  could  attain  to  esteeming 
thoughts  of  him,  to  think  more  of  his  great- 
ness and  excellency  beyond  all  the  world  I 
It  is  our  ureat  folly  to  admire  anything  but 
God.  This  IS  because  we  are  ignorant  of 
him.  Certainly,  he  knows  not  God,  who 
thinks  anything  great  beside  him. 

Amen.]  In  this  word  concentre  all  (he 
requests,  and  are  put  up  together:  soke  it. 
And  there  is  in  it  withal,  as  all  observe,  a 
profession  of  confidence  that  it  shall  be  so. 
It  is  from  one  root  with  those  words  which 


signify  helieving  and  truth.  The  ituth  of 
God's  promising,  persuades  belief;  and  it 
persuades  to  hope  for  a  gracious  answer  of 
prayer. 

And  this  is  the  excellent  advantage  of 
the  prayer  of  faith,  that  it  quiets  and  estab- 
lishes the  heart  in  God.  Whatsoever  be  its 
estate  and  desire,  when  once  the  believer 
hath  put  his  petition  into  God's  hand,  he  rests 
content  in  holy  security  and  assurance  con- 
cerning the  answer  ;  refers  it  to  the  wisdom 
and  love  of  God,  how  and  when  he  will  an- 
swer;  not  doubting  that  whatsoever  it  be,  and 
whensoever,  it  shall  both  be  gracious  and 
seasonable.  But  the  reason  why  so  lew  of  us 
find  that  sweetness  and  comfort  that  are  in 
prayer,  is,  because  the  true  nature  and  use 
of  it  is  so  little  known 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


Exodus  xx.  1,  2. 

And  God  spake  all  these  words,  saying, 
I  am  the  Lord  thy  Cod,  which  have  broii!;ht  thee 
out  of  the  land  ot  Egypt,  out  of  the  house  of  bon- 
dage. 

It  is  the  character  of  the  blessed  man,  and 
the  way  of  blessedness,  to  delight  in  the  law 
of  God.  Psalm  i.  2.  And  because  the  eye  is 
often  upon  that  whereon  the  affection  and  de- 
light of  the  heart  is  set,  the  sign  of  that  de- 
light in  the  law,  is,  to  have  the  eye  of  the 
mind  much  upon  it,  to  medilnle  on  it  day  and 
ni^hl.  k-nd  that  we  may  know  this  is  not,  as 
the  siudv  of  many  things  are,  empty  specula- 
tion and  fruitless,  barren  delight,  we  are  fur-  | 
ther  taught  that  the  soul  that  is  fi.xed  in  this 
delight  and  meditation,  is  a  tree  well  planted, 
and  aiiswerably  fruitful.  The  mind  that  is 
set  upon  this  law,  is  filly  set  for  bearing  fruit. 
Planted  by  the  rivers  of  ivaters  ;  and  is  re- 
ally fruitful,  Bringing  forth  its  fruit  in  its 
season. 

It  this  holds  true  of  the',  aw  in  the  largest  ' 
sense,  taken  for  the  whole  will  of  God  re-  ( 
vealed  in  his  word,  it  is,  no  d(jubt,  particular- 
ly verified  in  that  which  more  particularly 
bears  the  name  of  the  law  ;  this  same  sum- 
mary of  the  rul(!  of  man's  life  delivered  by 
the  Lord  liimself,  after  so  singular  a  manner 
both  by  word  and  writ. 

So,  then,  the  explication  of  it  being  need- 
ful for  the  ignorant,  it  will  be  likewise  jjrofita- 
bly  delightful  for  those  who  be  most  knowing 
and  best  accjuaiiited  with  it.  It  is  a  rich  mine, 
thai  we  can  never  dig  to  the  bottom  of  He  is 
called  the  blessed  man,  vvho  is  still  digging 
and  seeking  further  into  'be  riches  of  it,  medi- 
latini!  on  it  dai/  and  ni<iht  ;  his  work  going 
forward  in  the  niglit,  when  others  cease  from 
working. 


We  have  in  the  creed,  the  object  faith  ; 
in  the  law,  the  sacrifice  and  trial  of  love :  for 
Love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law  ;  and.  If  ye 
love  rne,  keep  my  command  me  nts,  saith  our 
Savior.  And  prayer  is  the  breathing  of  hope, 
or,  as  they  call  it,  Jnterprelatio  spei.  Thus, 
in  these  three  summaries,  are  the  mattt^r  of 
these  three  prime  theological  virtues, /ajM, 
hope,  and  chant  ij. 

The  law  rightly  understood,  addresses  us 
to  the  articles  of  our  faith  :  for  seein<r  ihe  dis- 
proportion of  our  best  obedience  to  the  exact- 
ness of  tlie  law,  this  drives  us  to  seek  salva- 
tion in  the  gospel  by  believing  :  and  our  nat- 
ural inability  to  believe,  drives  us  to  prayer, 
that  we  may  ol)tain  faith,  and  perseverance 
in  it,  at  his  hands  who  is  both  the  first  Author 
and  the  Finisher  of  our  faith. 

The  preparation  enjoined  upon  the  people, 
teacheth  the  holiness  of  the  law.  The  fire, 
and  thunder,  and  lightning,  and,  upon  these, 
the  fear  of  the  i)eo|)le,  testify  iIk;  greatness 
and  majesty  of  the  Lawgiver,  and  withiil,  his 
power  to  jjunish  the  transgress(jrs  of  it.  and 
liis  justice  that  will  punish  :  thai  as  he  showed 
his  i)resence  by  fire  seen  in  delivering  this 
law,  so  he  is  (as  tlie  apostle  teacheth  us,  allu- 
ding to  this)  a  consuming  fire  to  them  who 
neglect  and  disobey  it.  The  limits  set  about 
the  mount,  that  they  misht  not  a[)proach  it, 
even  after  all  their  endeavor  of  sanctifying 
and  preparing,  read  [1]  humility  to  us,  teach- 
ing us  our  great  distance  from  the  holiness 
of  our  God,  even  when  we  are  most  holy  and 
exact  in  our  preparations  ;  and  [2|  sobriety 
\fpiviiv  in  Tit  ai.tti,(inviw].  Viol  to  pry  into  hidden 
things;  to  hear  what  is  revealed  to  us  and  com- 
manded us,  and  to  exercise  ourselves  in  that. 
Scrutator  majest alis  oppriinelur  a  gloria. — 
Hidden  things  belong  unto  God,  but  those 


690 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


which  fire  rt  vetiled  to  us  and  to  our  children, 
that  we  may  do  all  the  words  of  this  law.  Deut. 
xxix.  i;9. 

Lastly,  we  are  lau£:ht,  that  the  law  of  it- 
self is  the  ininislralion  of  death,  and  hath 
nothinrr  hut  terror  in  it,  till  the  Messiah,  the 
Mediator  ap])ear,  and  the  soul,  hy  his  perfect 
ohedieiice,  he  accounted  ohedient  to  the  law. 
But  we  must  not  insist  on  this  now. 

Tlie  preface  is  twofold.  I.  That  of  Moses. 
II.  That  of  God  himself. 

I.  God  spake  all  these  words.  Ten  words. 
Exod.  xxxiv.  28  ;  Deut.  v.  22.  He  added  no 
more.  Hence  we  may  learn,  (1.)  The  per- 
fection of  this  law,  that  no  more  was  needful 
to  be  added.  (2.)  The  excellency  of  it,  being 
so  short,  and  yet  so  perfect.  For  as  it  is  the 
excellency  of  all  s[)eech,as  of  coin  (as  Plutarch 
hath  it),  to  contain  much  in  little,  most  value 
in  smallest  (|uaniity  :  so,  especially  of  laws, 
that  they  be  brief  and  full. 

That  we  may  the  better  conceive  of  the 
perfection  of  this  law,  we  must  not  forget 
those  rules  which  divines  give  for  the  under- 
standing of  it  in  its  due  latitude.  (1.)  That 
the  prohibitions  of  sin  contain  the  commands 
of  the  contrary  good  ;  otherwise,  the  number 
of  precepts  would  have  been  too  great.  And, 
on  the  contrary,  (2.)  Under  the  name  of  any 
one  sin,  all  homogeneous  sins,  or  sins  of  that 
kind,  are  forbidden.  (3.)  All  the  inducements 
and  occasions  of  sin,  things  that  come  near  a 
breach,  are  to  be  avoided  :  that  which  the  rab- 
bins call  the  hedi;e  of  the  law,  is  not  to  be 
broken.  They  who  do  always  all  that  they 
'  lawfully  may,  will  sometimes  do  more.  (4.) 
It  is  spiritual,  hath  that  prerogative  above  all 
human  laws,  that  it  reaches  the  heart  and  all 
the  motions  of  it,  as  well  as  words  and  ac- 
tions. This  Supreme  Lawgiver  alone  can 
see  the  behavior  of  the  heart,  and  alone  is 
able  to  punish  all  who  offend  so  much  as  in 
thought.  It  were  a  vain  thing,  for  men  to 
give  laws  to  any,  more  than  what  they  can 
require  account  of  and  correct,  which  is  only 
tho  surface  and  outside  of  human  actions. 
But  he  who  made  the  heart,  doth  not  onlv 
give  his  law  to  it,  but  to  it  principally,  ancl 
examines  all  actions  there  in  their  source  and 
beginning ;  and  therefore,  oftentimes,  that 
which  men  applaud  and  reward,  and  do  well 
in  so  doing,  he  justly  hates  and  punishes. 

God  spake.  All  that  was  spoken  bv  his 
messengers  the  prophets,  with  warrant  from 
him,  was  his  word  :  they  but  the  trumpets 
which  the  breath  of  his  mouth,  his  Spirit, 
made  to  sound  as  it  pleased  him  :  but  this  his 
moral  law,  he  privileged  with  his  own  im- 
mediate delivery.  Men  may  give  some  few 
rules  for  society  and  civil  life,  by  the  dark 
light  that  remains  in  natural  consciences  ;  but 
8uch  a  rule  as  may  direct  a  man  to  answer 
his  natural  r-nd,  and  lead  him  to  God,  must 
come  from  God  himself.  All  the  purest  and 
wisest  laws  that  men  have  compiled,  can  not 
reach  that :  they  can  go  no  higher  in  their 
course,  than  they  are  in  their  spring.  That 


'  which  is  from  the  earth  is  earthly,  saith  OUT 
Savior. 

j  He  added  to  this  speaking,  the  writing  ol 
[  them  likewise,  himself,  in  tables  of  stone, 
'  that  they  miglit  abid^,  and  be  conveyed  to 
alter  aces.  At  first  they  were  written  in  the 
heart  of  man,  hy  God's  own  hand  :  but,  as  the 
first  tables  of  stone  fell  and  were  broken,  so 
was  it  with  man's  heart  :  by  his  fall  his  heart 
was  broken,  and  scattered  among  tiie  earthly 
perishing  things  which  was  before  whole  and 
entire  to  his  Maker  ;  and  so,  tiie  characters 
of  that  law  written  in  it,  were  so  shivered 
and  scattered,  that  they  could  not  be  perfect- 
ly and  distinctly  read  in  it.  Therefore  it 
pleased  God  to  renew  that  law  after  this 
j  manner,  by  a  most  solemn  delivery  with  au- 
dible voice,  and  then  by  writing  it  on  tables 
of  stone.  And  this  is  not  all,  but  this  same 
law  he  doth  write  anew  in  the  hearts  of  his 
children. 

Why  it  pleased  him  to  defer  this  solemn 
promulgation  of  the  law  to  this  time,  and  at 
this  time  to  give  it  to  a  select  people  only, 
these  are  arcana  imperii — state  secrets,  in- 
deed, which  we  are  not  to  search  into,  but  to 
magnify  his  goodness  to  us,  that  he  hath 
showed  us  the  path  of  life,  revealing  to  us 
both  the  precepts  of  the  law,  and  the  grace 
and  promises  of  the  gospel. 

It  was  the  All-wise  God  who  spake  all 
these  words  ;  therefore  he  knew  well  his  own 
aim  and  purpose  in  them,  and  doth  certainly 
attain  it. 

It  was  not,  indeed,  that  this  law  might  be 
the  adequate  and  complete  means  of  man's 
happiness,  that  hy  perfect  obedience  to  it  he 
might  be  saved  ;  for  the  law  is  weak  for  this, 
not  in  itself,  but  throu<rh  ihejlesh.  Rom.  vii. 
3.  It  is  aliogether  impossible  for  it  alone  to 
save  us,  because  impossible  for  us  to  fulfil  it. 
But  it  doth  profit  us  much  if  we  look  aright 
upon  it. 

1.  It  discovers  us  to  ourselves,  and  so  hum- 
bles us,  frees  us  from  the  pride  that  is  so  nat- 
ural to  us  in  the  midst  of  our  great  poverty 
and  wretchedness.  For  when  we  see  how 
pure  the  law  is,  and  we,  compared  with  it,  to 
be  all  filthiness  and  defilement,  our  best  righ- 
teousness, as  Isaiah  says,  as  filthy  ra^s  ;  tliis 
causcth  us  to  abhor  ourselves.  Whereas  nat- 
urally, we  are  abused  with  self-love,  and  self- 
flattery  arising  from  it.  The  point  of  the  law 
(as  they  in  the  Acts  were  said  to  be  pricked 

j  in  their  hearts)  pricks  the  heart,  which  is 
i  swelled  and  puffed  with  pride,  and  makes  it 
I  fall  low  in  sense  and  vileness. 

2.  As  this  discovery  humbles  us  in  our- 
j  selves,  so  it  drives  us  out  of  ourselves.  This 

glass  showing  us  our  pollution,  sends  us  to 
the  fountain  opened.  When  we  perceive 
that,  hy  the  sentence  of  the  law,  there  is 
nothing  for  us  but  death,  this  makes  us  heark- 
en diligently  to  the  news  of  redemption  and 
pardon  proclaimed  in  the  gospel,  and  hastens 
us  to  the  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant.  As 
the  spouse  was  then  singularly  rejoiced  to 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE 

tiud  her  Beloved,  when  she  had  been  beaten 
and  liardly  used  by  reproaching  (Cant.  v.  7), 
so  ihe  soul  is  then  gladdest  to  meet  with 
Christ,  when  it  is  hardest  buffeted  with  the 
terrors  and  threatenings  of  the  law.  His 
promise  of  ease  and  refreshment  sounds  sweet 
alier  the  thunderings  and  lightnings  of  Mount 
Sinai.  A  man  will  never  go  to  Christ,  so  long 
as  he  is  not  convinced  of  misery  without  him, 
of  impotency  in  himself,  and  in  all  others  to 
help  him. 

3.  It  restrains  the  wickedness  evon  ff  un- 
godly men.  The  brightness  of  it  makes  them 
sometimes  ashamed  of  those  works  of  dark- 
ness which  otherwise  they  would  commit 
witlijut  check  :  and  the  terrors  of  it  affright 
them  sometimes  from  that  which  they  would 
otherwise  commit  without  shame. 

4.  But  chiefly  it  serves  for  a  rule  and  square 
of  life  to  the  godly  ;  a  light  to  their  feel,  as 
David  says,  arid  a  lantern  to  their  paths.  Ei- 
ther they  have  no  rule  of  life  (which  is  im- 
pious and  unreasonable  to  think),  or  this  is 
it.  (^'hrist  came  not  to  dissolve  it,  but  to  ac- 
complish and  establish  it  :  and  he  did  careful- 
ly free  it  I'rom  the  injurious  glosses  of  the 
Pliarisees,  and  taught  the  right  sense  and 
force  of  it.  See  Matt.  v.  He  obeyed  it  both 
in  doing  and  in  suffering  ;  both  performing 
what  it  requires,  and,  in  our  stead,  undergo- 
ing wiiat  it  pronounces  against  those  who 
perform  it  not.  It  is  a  promise  chieflv  intend- 
ed ibr  the  days  of  the  gospel,  as  the  apostle 
applies  it,  /  will  XL-rite  my  law  in  thetr  hearts. 
It  is  a  weak  conceit  arising  upon  the  mis- 
take of  the  Scriptures,  to  make  Christ  and 
Moses  as  opposites.  No,  Moses  was  the  ser- 
vant in  the  house,  and  Clirist, /Ac  Son;  and 
being  a  faithful  servant,  he  is  not  contrary  to 
.the  Son,  but  subordinate  to  him.  Heb.  iii.  5. 
The  very  abolishment  of  the  ceremonial  law, 
was  not  as  of  a  thing  contrary,  but  as  a  thing 
accomplished  in  Christ,  and  so  was  an  hon- 
orable abolishment.  And  the  removing  of 
the  curse  and  rigor  of  the  moral  law  from  us, 
was  witiiout  wrong  to  it,  being  satisfied  in  a 
belter  for  us,  our  surety,  Jesus  Christ. 

Tiiey  are  happy,  who  look  so  on  the  law 
of  God,  as  to  be  made  sensible  of  misery  by 
)t,  and  by  that  made  earnest  in  their  desires 
of  Christ ;  and  who  judge  themselves,  the 
more  evidence  they  have  of  freedom  from 
tiie  curse  of  the  law,  to  be  not  the  less,  but 
so  much  the  more  obliged  to  obey  the  law  ; 
who  are  still  making  progress  and  going  on 
in  that  way  of  obedience,  though  it  be  with 
continual  halting,  and  often  stumbling,  and 
sometimes  falling  ;  yet  they  shall  certainly 
attain  their  journey's  end,  that  perfection 
whereof  they  are  so  desirous. 

This  were  the  way  to  lowliness,  not  to 
compare  ourselves  with  others,  in  which  too 
many  are  often  partial  judges,  but  with  this 
holy  law.  We  use  not  to  try  the  evenness  of 
things  with  our  crooked  sticV  but  by  the 
straightfst  rule  that  we  can  fir.d.  Thus  St. 
Paul:  The  !av!  IS  spiritual,  I  am  carnal.  Rom. 


TEN  COMMANDMENTS.  621 

vii.  14.  He  looks  not  how  much  ne  was  more 
spiritual  than  other  men,  but  how  much  less 
spiritual  than  the  law. 

II.  I  am  the  Lord  thy  God.]  That  is  the 
truest  and  most  constant  obedience,  which 
flows  jointly  from  reverence  and  love:  these 
two  are  the  very  wheels  upon  which  obedi- 
ence moves.  And  these  first  words  of  the 
law  are  most  fit  and  powerful  to  work  these 
two ;  Jehovah — sovereign  Lord,  to  be  fearea 
and  reverenced —/Ay  God;  and  then.  Who 
have  brought  thee  out.  &c.,  who  hath  wrought 
such  a  deliverance  for  thee.  Therefore,  in 
both  these  respects,  most  worthy  of  the  high- 
est love. 

This  preface  can  not  stand  for  a  command- 
ment, as  some  would  have  it  ;  for  expressly 
it  commands  nothing,  though  by  inference  it 
enforceth  all  the  commandments,  and  is  in- 
deed so  intended.  Though  it  may  be  con- 
ceived to  have  a  particular  tie  with  the  first 
commandment,  which  follows  it  immediate- 
ly, yet  certainly  it  is  withal  a  most  fit  preface 
to  them  all,  and  hath  a  persuasive  influence 
into  them  aJl  ;  commanding  attention  and  obe- 
dience, not  in  the  low  way  of  human  rhetp'"'^, 
but  stylo  imperatorio,  in  a  kingly  phrase,  te- 
coming  the  majesty  of  the  King  of  kings — I 
am  Jehovah. 

Here  we  have  three  motives  to  obedience: 
1.  His  universal  sovereignty,  Je/ioi'flA.  2.  His 
particular  relation  to  his  own  people,  Thy 
God.  3.  The  late  singular  mercy  bestowed 
on  them.  Who  have  brought  thee  out  of  the 
land  of  Eaypl.  Each  of  them  sufficient,  and 
therefore  altogether  most  strongly  concluding 
for  obedience  to  his  commandments. 

1.  Jehovah.    Not  to  insist  on  the  ample 
consideration  of  this  name  of  God,  of  which 
divines,  both  Jewish  and  Christian,  have  said 
so  much,  some  more  cabalistically  and  curi- 
ously,  others  more  soberly  and  solidly  ;  this 
they  agree  in,  that  it  is  the  incommunicable 
name  of  the  Divine  Majesty,  and  signifies  the 
primitiveness  of  his  being,  and  his  eternity; 
that  his  being  is  not  derived,  but  is  in  and 
[  from  himself ;  and  that  all  other  being  is  from 
,  him  ;  that  he  is  from  everlasting  to  everlast- 
I  ing  in  himself,  without  any  difference  of  time, 
but,  as  eternity  is  expressed  to  our  conceiving, 
He  v'ho  is,  and  who  was,  and  ivho  is  to  come, 
Alpha  and  Omega. 

Now,  it  is  most  reasonable,  that  seeing  all 
things,  mankind,  and  all  the  creatures  that 
serve  for  his  gor)d,  receive  their  being  from 
him,  we  should  likewise  receive  laws  frcrn 
hini. 

His  majesty  is  alone  absolute  and  indepen. 
dent:  all  the  powers  of  the  world,  the  great- 
est princes  and  kings,  hold  their  crowns  of 
him,  are  his  vassals,  and  owe  obedience  to 
his  laws,  as  moch  as  their  meanest  subjects, 
that  I  say  not  more,  in  regard  to  the  particu- 
lar obligation  which  their  honor  and  emi- 
nency  given  them  by  him  doth  lay  upon 
them. 

Jehovah.    What  are  the  numeroas  stvles 


•622 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


wiu-rein  princes  ilcli^-ht  and  £rlory  so  much, 
bui  a  vain  noise  of  nolhins^  in  comparison  of 
his  name,  I  am  ?  And  in  all  their  ijrandeur, 
tliey  are  low,  petty  majesties,  when  mention 
IS  made  of  this  Je/invali,  >r/io  sirclr/icil  forth 
ihe  Jii  avens,  and  laid  the  foundiit lonx  of  the 
ea'th,  and  funned  the  .ijiirit  nf  nuin  within 
him?  Zech.  xii.  1.  What  fjives  a  man,  when 
he  e:ives  all  the  obedience  he  can,  and  ijives 
liim?elf  in  obedience  to  God  ?  What  <;ives  he 
nim,  hut  what  he  hath  tirsi  received  from 
liim.  and  therefore  owes  ii  all,  as  fjon  as  he 
begins  lo  be  ? 

This  authority  of  the  Lawgiver,  is  the  very 
fife  of  the  law.  It  is  that  we  so  readily  for- 
get, and  this  is  the  cause  of  all  disobedience, 
and  therel'ore  the  Lord  inculcates  it  often, 
Lev.  xix.,  /  am  the  Lord,  ver.  3  ;  and  again 
repeated,  ver.  37. 

This  is  ihe  apostle  St.  James's  argument, 
by  which  he  strongly  proves  his  conclusion. 
That  he  that  t ransi^rcs.tcth  in  one,  is  fftiilty 
)f  all.  He  urges  not  the  concatenation  of 
virtues  in  themselves — though  there  is  truth 
and  force  in  that:  he  that  hath  one  hath  all, 
and  so  he  that  wants  any  one  hath  not^e  : — 
but  the  sameness  of  the  authority  is  his  me- 
dium :  For  he  loho  said.  Thou  shall  not  com- 
mit adultery,  said  also.  Thou  shall  not  kill. 
Jam.  ii.  The  authority  is  the  same,  and  equal 
in  all.  The  golden  thread  on  which  these 
pearls  are  stringed,  if  it  he  broken  in  any  tine 
part,  it  scatters  them  all.  This  name  of  God 
signifying  his  authority,  keeps  the  whole 
frame  of  the  law  together,  and  if  that  be  stir- 
red, it  falls  all  asunder. 

2.  Thy  God.  Necessity  is  a  strong  but  a 
hard  argument,  if  it  go  alone.  The  sovereignty 
of  God  ties  all,  either  to  obey  his  law,  or  to 
undergo  the  punishment.  But  love  is  both 
strong  and  sweet.  Where  there  sounds  love 
in  the  command,  and  in  the  relation  of  the 
commander,  there  it  is  receivtsd  and  cheer- 
fully obeyed  by  love.  Thus  then,  thy  God, 
in  covenant  with  thee,  can  not  but  move  thee. 

We  see,  then,  the  gospel  interwoven  with 
the  law,  in  thy  God,  often  repeated,  which  is 
by  the  new  covenant,  and  that  by  a  mediator. 
God  expects  obedience  from  his  peculiar 
peoi)le.  It  is  their  glory  and  happiness,  that 
they  are  his.  It  adds  nothing  to  him,  but 
much  every  way  to  them.  He  is  pleased  to 
take  it  as  glory  done  to  him,  to  take  him  to 
be  our  God  :  and  doth  really  exalt  and  honor 
those  that  do  so,  with  the  title  and  privileges 
of  his  people.  If  his  own  children  break  his 
law,  he  can  not  but  take  that  worse. 

3.  Who  hrouglit  thee  out  of  the  land  of 
Egypt.]  By  the  remembrance  of  their  late 
great  deliverance,  he  mollifies  tlieir  hearts  to 
receive  the  impression  of  this  law. 

Herein  was  the  peculiar  obligation  of  this 
people.  But  ours,  typified  by  this,  is  not  less, 
jUt  unspeakably  greater;  deliverance  from 
he  cruel  servitude  of  sin.  and  the  prince  of 
darkness.  From  these  we  are  delivered,  not 
«  licentiousness  and  liberiinism,  but  to  true 


liberty,  John  viii.  36.  If  Ihe  Son  maJie  yon 
free,  you  shall  he  free  indeed.  Luke  i.  74. 
Delivered  from  the  pov:er  of  our  enemies — 
To  what  end  ? — to  serve  htm  vilhout  fear 
that  terror  which  we  should  be  subject  to,  if 
we  were  not  delivered  :  and,  to  xcrve  him  all 
the  days  of  our  lives.  And  that  all,  if  many 
hundred  times  longer  than  it  is,  yet  were  too 
little  lor  him.  It  is  not  such  a  servitude  as 
that  of  Egypt,  from  which  we  are  delivered: 
that  ended  lo  each  one  with  his  life  ;  but  the 
misery  from  which  we  are  redeemed,  begins 
but  in  the  fulness  of  it  when  life  ends,  and 
endures  for  ever. 

The  gospel  sets  not  men  free  to  profane- 
ness  :  no,  it  is  a  doctrine  of  holiness.  W  e  are 
not  called  lo  uncteanness,  but  to  holiness,  saith 
the  aposile.  1  Thess.  iv.  7.  He  hath  i»dcea 
taken  off  the  hardness,  the  iron  yoke,  and 
now  his  commandments  are  not  grievous.  1 
John  V.  3.  JIis  yoke  is  easy,  and  his  burden 
light.  And  they  who  are  most  sensible,  and 
have  most  assurance  of  their  deliverance,  ar? 
ever  tlie  most  active  and  fruitful  in  obedience  : 
they  feel  themselves  light  and  nimble,  having 
the  heavy  chains  and  fetters  taken  off.  Psalm 
cxvi.  16.  Lord,  I  am  thy  servant  ;  thou  hast 
loosened  my  bonds.  And  the  comfortable 
persuasion  of  their  redemption,  is  that  oil  of 
gladness  which  su])ples  and  disposes  them  to 
run  the  way  of  God^s  commandrncnts. 

PRECEPT  I. 
Thou  slialt  have  no  other  Gotls  but  ME. 

The  first  thing  in  religion  is,  to  state  the 
object  of  it  richt,  and  to  acknowledge  and 
receive  it  for  such.  This,  I  confess,  is  the 
intent  of  this  first  precept  of  the  law,  which 
is  therefore  the  basis  and  foundation  that 
bears  the  weight  of  all  the  rest.  And  there- 
fore, as  we  said  before,  though  the  preface 
looks  to  them  all,  yet  it  looks  first  to  this 
which  is  nearest  it,  and  is  knit  with  it,  and 
through  it  to  all  the  rest.  The  preface  assert- 
ed God's  authority  as  the  strength  of  his  law, 
and  this  first  precept  commands  the  acknowl- 
edgment  and  embracing  of  that  his  authority, 
and  his  alone,  as  God.  And  this  is  the  spring 
of  our  ohcdieiice  to  all  his  commandments. 

But  before  a  particular  ex|)lication  of  this, 
a  word,  first,  of  the  division  of  this  law  ; 
secondly,  of  the  s/y/e  of  it.  l.As  to  hs  divis- 
ion. That  they  were  divided,  first,  into  two 
tables,  and  then  into  ten  words  or  command- 
ments, none  can  question.  We  have  the  law 
giver's  own  testimony  clear  for  that.  Bui 
about  the  particular  way  of  dividing  them 
into  ten,  and  the  matching  of  these  two  divis- 
ions together,  there  hath  been,  and  still  is, 
some  difl'erence.  But  this  1  will  not  insi>t  on. 
Though  Josepiius,  and  Philo  the  Jew,  would 
(to  make  the  number  equal)  have  five  precepts 
in  each  table,  yet,  the  matter  of  them  is  more, 
to  be  regarded,  and  persuades  the  contrary  ; 
that  those  which  concern  piety,  our  duty  to 
God,  be  in  the  first  table,  and  those  together 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


623 


in  ihe  second,  which  concern  equity,  or  our 
duly  10  man.  And  the  summary  which  our 
Savior  gives  of  ihe  two  tables,  is  evidently  in 
favor  ol'  this.  And  that  those  precepts  of 
viety,  those  of  the  first  table,  are  four,  and 
they  of  the  second,  six,  and  so,  that  the  first 
and  the  second,  as  we  have  them,  are  different, 
and  make  two,  and  the  tenth  but  one,  hath 
the  voice  both  of  antiquity  and  reason  :  as 
many  divines  on  tiie  decalogue  do  usually 
■jvince  at  large,  which,  therefore,  were  as 
easy  as  it  is  needless  to  do  over  again.  The 
creed  of  the  Romisli  church  to  the  contrary, 
is  plainly  impudent  presumption  and  partiali- 
t) ,  choo«ing  rather  to  blot  out  the  law,  than 
reform  their  manifest  breach  of  it. 

2.  What  I  would  say  of  the  style  of  the 
commandments,  is  but  in  this  one  particular, 
briefly  :  We  see  the  greatest  part  of  them 
are  jirohihitive,  or,  as  we  usually  call  them, 
though  somewhat  improperly,  negative.  Tliou 
shall  not,  &c.  This,  as  is  observed  by  Calvin 
and  others,  intimates  our  natural  bent  and  in- 
clinernent  to  sin,  that  it  suffices  not  to  show 
us  what  oULcht  to  be  done,  but  we  are  to  be 
held  and  bridled  by  countermands  from  the 
practices  of  ungodliness  and  unrighteousness. 

Thon  s/iall  not  have,  &c.]  This  order  here 
— and  so  in  the  resi  :  I.  The  scope.  II.  The 
sense  of  the  words.  III.  What  it  forbids. 
IV.  What  it  commands.  And  these  follow 
each  upon  the  other  ;  for  out  of  the  scope,  the 
sense  is  best  gathered,  and  from  that,  tiie 
breach,  and  the  observation. 

1.  The  scope.  As  liie  second  command- 
ment concerns  the  solemn  form  of  Divine  : 
Worship,  th:it  it  be  not  such  as  we  devise, 
but  such  as  himself  appoints  ;  the  third,  the 
qualilicalion  or  manner  of  it,  not  vainly  and 
profanely,  butvvith  holy  reverence;  the  fourth, 
the  solemn  time  set  apart  for  it,  the  sabbath  ;  : 
so,  tliis  first  precept  aims  at  somewhat  whicii 
is  previous  to  all  these. 

Many  distinguish  tliis  and  the  second,  per 
culluiii  tnlcrnuiii  el  exteraum,  by  the  internal  \ 
and  external  worship  ;  and  a  grave  modern 
divine,  espying  some  defect  in  that,  doth  it,  ! 
per  cultuin  nnluralein  el  instituturn,  bi/  nalurul 
and  insliluLed  worship.  But  I  confess,  both 
omit,  at  least  they  express  not  (it  may  be,  they  i 
take  ii  as  implied),  that  whicli  is  mainly  in- 
tended, the  (jbject  of  worship  ;  that  that  .Jeho- 
vah who  gave  and  himself  spake  this  law,  be 
received  and  acknowledged  for  the  only  true 
God,  and  so,  the  only  object  of  Divine  worship. 
And  this  is  that  which  he  calls  Cultus  natu- 
ralis,  natural  worship,  that  primitive  worship, 
the  religious  habitude  of  man  to  God,  giving 
hirns».!f  entire,  outward  and  inward,  to  his 
Bervice  and  obedience  :  for  this  is  no  other 
than  to  own  him,  and  him  only,  for  that  Deity 
to  whom  all  love,  and  worship,  and  praise, 
are  due.  I 
It  is  surely  not  so  convenient  to  restrain 
this  precept  to  inward  worship  only,  for  each 
precept  binjs  the  whole  man  to  obedience; 
and  therefore  I  wot. Id  not  give  the  first  mo- 


tions of  concupiscence  in  general,  for  the 
sense  of  the  tenth  commandment,  as  we  shall 
show  when  we  come  to  speak  of  that.  Cer- 
tainly, even  outward  worship  given  to  a  false 
God,  breaks  this  first  commandment. 

The  scope,  then,  is  briefly,  that  the  Only 
True  God  be  alone  acknowledged  for  what  he 
is, and,  as  we  are  able,  with  all  our  powers  and 
parts,  inwardly  and  outwardly,  that  he  be  an- 
swerably  adored  ;  that  we  neither  change  hina 
for  any  other,  norjoin  any  other  with  him,  nor 
be  neglective  and  slack  in  honoring  and  obey- 
ing him.  So  that,  as  we  are  particularly,  by 
each  severd  precept,  instructed  in,  and  ob- 
liged to,  the  particular  duties  of  it,  by  this 
we  are  generally  lied  to  give  obedience  to 
them  all.  It  is  no  way  inconvenient,  but 
most  fit  in  this  general  notion,  that  this  first 
commandment  import  the  observance  of  itself, 
and  of  all  the  rest. 

II.  The  sense  of  the  words,  Non  hahebis, 
Heb.  T^on  erunt  lihi,  &c. 

1.  Eril  tihi,  Dens,  Thou  shall  have  a  God 
Know  and  believe  that  there  is  a  Deity.  2. 
Seek  to  know  which  is  the  true  God,  that  thou 
mayest  acknowledge  him.  3.  Know  me  as  I 
have  revealed  myst  T  'ii  my  word.  Know 
and  believe  that  I,  Jehovah,  the  Author  and 
Deliverer  of  this  law,  that  I  am  God,  and 
there  is  none  else.  Isa.  xliv.  8.  4.  Offer  not, 
therefore,  either  to  forsake  me,  or  to  join  any 
other  with  me.  .\lienate  no  part  of  my  due 
from  me,  for  my  glory  I  will  not  give  unto 
another.  5.  Take  me  for  thy  God  ;  and  give 
service  and  honor,  and  thyself  unto  me. 

Before  my  face.}  Set  them  not  up  in  my 
sight,  for  I  can  not  suffer  them,  nor  their 
Worshippers.  If  they  come  in  my  sight,  they 
will  provoke  me  to  anger.  The  word  here 
tor  face,  sometimes  signifies  anger,  in  Scrip- 
ture ;  and  it  seems  to  allude  to  God's  clear 
manifestation  of  himself  to  his  people  in  the 
delivery  of  the  law,  and  further  to  clear  the 
doctrine  of  pure  and  true  religion  shining  in 
the  law,  which  is,  as  it  were,  the  light  of  the 
face  of  God.  In  which  regard,  the  nations 
who  knew  him  not,  may  be  said  not  to  have 
had  their  gods  before  his  face  ;  for  though  he 
saw  them,  they  saw  not  him. 

Again,  Before  my  face,  is  as  if  lie  should 
say.  If  thine  idolatry  be  never  so  secret,  though 
it  were  but  in  heari,  remember  that  it  will  be 
in  my  sight.  Thou  canst  not  steal  away  any 
of  my  glory  to  bestow  anywhere  else,  so  cun 
ningly  and  secretly,  but  I  shall  espy  thee.  If 
thou  canst  have  any  other  gods  that  I  can  no» 
know  of  and  see  not,  thou  mayest  ;  but  if  thou 
canst  have  none  but  I  shall  see  tliem,  then 
beware,  for  if  I  see  it,  I  will  punish  it. 

III.  Breaches  or  sins  against  this  command 
ment.  We  can  not  particularly  name  all,  but 
some  main  ones. 

1.  That  inbred  enmity,  that  habitual  re- 
bellion which  is  in  our  natures  against  God 
rvii,i„„n  (•  y-On  i.  that  connatural  cnrmy,  that  take? 
life  with  us  as  soon  as  ourselves  in  the  womb. 
—  To  /.(loi  /j^a  r/jj  aitfjxus,  the  minding  of  ike  flesh 


624 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


Rom.  viii.  6.    And  llie  evidence  of  that,  is,  "in 

ir.r.irTfrii  Jt  coti  7iot  />€  ofdcrcd,  is  ever 
breaking  rank.  Some  even  of  those  who 
bestow  mourning  upon  sin,  yet,  do  not  often 
enou<;h  consider  the  bitter  fountain,  and  be- 
wail it.  The  wisest  way  to  know  'hings,  is, 
following  them  home  to  their  causes.  Thus 
David,  r^alm  li.  5.  Behold  I  was  s/iapen  in 
incketl ncss,  <ind  in  siii  hath  my  mother  con- 
ccircd  me. 

2.  Atheism.  Thouijh  there  is  in  the  con- 
sciences of  all  men  an  indelible  conviction  of 
a  Deity,  so  that  there  have  been  few  of  those 
monsters  found,  jirofcssed  n t heists  ;  yet,  there 
is  in  us  all,  naturally,  this  of  atheism,  that  by 
nature  we  would  willin<rly  be  rid  of  that  light, 
and  quench  that  sparkle  if  we  could.  And 
all  ungodly  men  do  live  contrary  to  it,  and 
fight  against  it. 

3.  The  gross  idolatrij  of  the  heathens  ;  their 
noXvBtiT.s,  making  gods  of  beasts,  almost  of 
everything  and  beasts  of  themselves.  Nullus 
enim  terminus  in  fa/so.  The  writers  of  the 
primitive  church  have  mightily  and  learnedly 
confuted  them  :  but  we  will  not  stir  this  dung- 
hill. The  Scripture  calls  idols  so :  Hillu- 
lim. 

4.  Witchcraft,  necromancy,  and  magical 
arts,  which  make  a  god  of  the  devil. 

5.  Rome's  invocation  of  saints  and  angels. 
Though  they  take  never  so  much  pains  to 
clear  it,  they  do  but  wash  the  blot  more.  Thus 
in  the  same  matter,  Jcr.  ii.  22  :  Though  thou 
take  thee  nitre  and  much  sope,  yet,  thine  ini- 
yi/itt/  is  marked  before  me,  saith  the  Lord. 
All  their  apologies  take  it  not  away,  let  them 
refine  it  never  so  much  with  pamphlets  and 
distinctions;  all  they  attain  by  spinning  it  so 
fine,  is  but  to  make  it  a  part  of  the  mystery 
of  iniquity. 

6.  Erroneous  opinions  concerning  God,  and, 
generally,  heresies  in  religion. 

7.  Practical  or  interpretative  atheism,  or 
idolatry,  whether  of  the  two  you  will  call  it  ; 
for  it  is  both  in  the  lives  of  the  most,  and  the 
world  is  full  of  this  ;  being  such  as  declares 
ihey  have  no  God,  or  that  this  God  is  but 
some  base  idol  in  his  stead.  Particularly, 
among  ourselves,  [1.]  Gross  ignorance  of 
God.  and  no  endeavor  to  attain  the  knowledge 
of  him,  though  in  the  midst  of  the  light  and 
means  of  knowing.  [2.]  Universal  profane- 
ness  flowing  from  this  ignorance.  Hos.  iv.  1, 
2,  3.  The  liearts  of  men,  which  should  be 
the  temples  of  God,  are  full  of  idols.  Though 
we  hide  them  in  the  closest  corners,  they  are 
before  his  face  :  he  sees  them,  lust,  and  pride, 
and  covetousness.  See  Ezek.  viii.  Consider, 
that  which  you  bestow  most  thoughts  and 
service  on,  that  which  you  are  most  affec- 
tionate and  earnest  in,  is  not  that  your  God  ? 
And  is  there  not  something  beside  the  true 
God,  that  is  thus  deep  in  the  hearts  of  the 
most  of  us  ?  Take  pains  to  make  the  com- 
parison :  look  upon  tlie  temper  of  your  minds. 
To  .iHV  nothing  of  much  more  time  spent  upon 


other  things  than  on  him,  how  ardent  you  are 
in  other  alVairs  which  you  think  concern  vou 
near,  and  how  cold  in  serving  and  honoring 
him  !  Bui,  though  in  particular  under-gods. 
in  what  serves  their  honor,  they  difi'er,  all 
men  namrally  agree  in  the  great  idol,  self. 
Every  man  is  by  corrupt  nature  his  own  god. 
Was  not  this  the  first  wickedness,  which  cor- 
rupted our  nature.  Ye  shall  he  as  gods  ?  And 
it  slicks  to  it  still.  Men  W(>uld  i)lease  them- 
selves, and  have  themselves  somebody,  es- 
teemed and  honored  ;  and  would  have  all 
serve  to  this  end.  Is  not  this  God's  right  and 
due  they  give  themselves,  to  be  the  end  of  all 
their  own  actions,  and  sacrifice  all  to  their 
own  glory  ? 

I'/.  What  it  commands.  • 

Now,  by  these  we  may  easily  gather  thi" 
the  contrary,  what  is  the  obedience  of  thi-" 
commandment.*  It  is  so  to  know  the  true 
God,  this  Jehovah,  as  to  be  persuaded  sover- 
eignly to  love,  and  fear,  and  trust  in  him,  to 
serve  and  adore  him. 

He  is  to  be  feared,  for  he  is  great.  Who 
would  not  fear  thee,  thou  king  of  nations  ! 
Jer.  X.  7.  To  be  loved,  for  he  is  good.  And 
because  both  great  and  good,  only  fit  to  be 
ivhully  relied  on  and  hoped  in.  ^ 

But  love  is  all  ;  it  gives  up  the  heart,  and 
by  that  all  the  rest  to  the  party  loved  ;  it  is 
no  more  its  own.  Oh,  that  Ave  could  love 
him  !  Did  we  see  him  we  should.  It  is  his 
uncreated  biauty  which  holds  glorified  spir- 
its still  beholding  and  still  delighted.  But 
we,  because  we  know  him  not,  if  we  have 
any  thoughts  of  him,  how  short  are  they  I 
Presently  down  again  we  fall  to  the  earth, 
and  into  the  mire  ere  we  are  aware.  There- 
fore, 

Set  yourselves  to  know,  and  love,  and  wor- 
ship this  God.  Labor  that  there  may  be  less 
of  the  world,  and  less  of  yourselves,  and  more 
of  God  in  your  hearts;  more  settled  and  fixed 
thoughts  of  him,  and  delight  in  him.  Think 
not  that  this  is  only  for  the  learnwl,  or  only 
for  some  retired,  contempla:ive  spirits  that 
have  nothing  else  to  do.  He  is  the  Most 
High,  and  service  and  honor  are  due  to  him 
from  all  his  creatures  ;  and,  from  his  reason- 
able creatures,  reasonable  service;  and  what 
this  is,  hear  from  the  apostle,  and  let  his  ex- 
hortation, or  his  entreaty,  persuade  you  to  it. 
Piom.  xii.  1  :  /  beseech  you,  therefore,  breth- 
ren, by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  you  present 
your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice  (and  they  are 
not  living  without  the  soul),  holy,  acceptable 
unto  God,  which  is  i/our  reaso7table  service  ; 
and  your  truest  obedience  to  this  command- 
ment. 

•  Though  the  graces  are  duties  jiroperly  belonging 
to  the  coiiunandmcnt,  snuie  divines  Uiink  fit  lo  expa- 
tiate into  the  several  cnnimonjilaces  of  tliem,  in  ex. 
plaining  this  commandment  ;  yet,  I  tliink  il  not  so  fit 
to  dwell  upon  each  ol'  tliese  herein  ;  their  lull  hand- 
ling rather  helonging  to  that  place  of  divinity  which 
treats  of  the  head  of  sanctification  and  those  infused 
habits  of  which  il  consists. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


626 


PRECEPT  II.  j 

Thou  shall  not  make  unto  thee  any  graven  image,  or 
any  likeness  of  anything  that  is  in  heaven  above, 
or  that  is  in  the  earth  beneath,  or  that  is  in  (he 
water  under  the  earth  !    Thou  shalt  not  bow  down 
thyself  to  them,  nor  serve  them.    For  I  the  Lord 
thy  God  am  a  jealous  God,  visiting  the  iniquity  of 
the  fathers  upon  the  children,  unto  the  third  and 
fourth  generation  of  them  that  hate  me,  and  show- 
ing mercy  unto  tliousands  of  them  that  love  me, 
and  keep  my  commandments.  I 
The  first  commandment  binds  us  to  ac-  ^ 
knowledge  and  worship  the  true  God  ;  this,  - 
to  the  true  worship  of  that  God. 

As  God  is  not  known  but  by  his  own  teach- 
ing and  revealing  himself,  so  he  can  not  be 
rightly  worshipped  but  by  his  own  prescrip- 
tion and  appointment.    This  is  the  aim  of 
this  second  commandment,  to  bind  up  man's 
hands,  and  his  working  fancy  that  sets  his 
hands  at  work,  and  to  teach  him  to  depend 
upon  Divine  direction  for  the  rule  of  divine  | 
worship,  and  to  offer  him  nothing  in  his  ser- 
vice, but  what  he  hath  received  from  him  in  \ 
command.    The  prohibition  is  general ;  Non 
facias  lihi.  Thou  shalt  not  devise  anything 
to  thyself  in  the  worship  of  God.   And  under 
that  gross  device  of  images,  and  worshipping  j 
them,  expressly  named,  are  comprehended  all 
other  inventions  and  will-worship.  1 
There  is  in  the  words,  I.   The  ■precept. 
II.  The  enforcement  of  it. 

1.  The  precept.  1.  Thou  shalt  not  make. 
Thou  shalt  not  imagine,  nor  invent,  nor  imi- 
tate the  invention  of  others.  Thou  shalt  not 
make,  nor  cause  to  make.  In  a  word,  i  m 
shall  be  no  way  accessary  to  the  corrupting 
of  Divine  worship,  with  any  resemb/ance  (or 
image),  or  human  device  at  all  :  the  former 
is  a  particular  word,  signifying  the  then  most 
usual  kind  of  imagery  ;  but  the  other  of  a 
most  large  and  general  sense,  is  put  for  all 
kinds  of  similitude  and  representation.  So  ' 
that  the  dispute  the  church  of  Rome  drives: 
us  into  for  her  interest,  in  this  matter,  about 
ti(56)Aui/  and  ciKo»',  is  not  only  a  mere  logomachy, 
a  debate  about  words,  but  altogether  imperti- 
nent and  extravagant,  having  no  ground  at 
all  in  the  words  of  the  commandment  ;  the 
former  whereof  is  more  particular  than  ei- 
ther of  these  two,  and  the  latter  more  gen-  j 
eral  and  comprehensive  than  either  they  or 
any  one  word  we  have  to  render  it  by. 

Of  the  thin  ITS  which  are  in  heaven,  &c.]  Be- 
cause the  vain  mind  of  man  h^d  wandered 
up  and  down  the  world,  and  gone  through 
all  these  places  to  find  ohjects  of  idolatry  ;  in 
heaven,  the  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars  ;  on  the 
earth,  not  only  men,  but  beasts  and  crecpinsr 
things,  and  fishes  iti  the  water,  and  made  itna- 
ges  of  them  to  worship;  the  Lord  is  there- 
fore particular  in  his  C{)unlermand. 

2.  The  second  part  of  the  precept  is  con- 
cerning their  worship:  Thou  shalt  not  bow 
dotvn  to  them,  nor  serve  them. 

The  former  word  is  iriore  particula  ,  speci- 
fying one  usual  sign  or  worship,  the  inclining, 
or  bowing,  of  the  body.    The  other,  general : 
79 


Thou  shalt  not  serve  them:  i.  e.,  Give  them 
no  kind  nor  part  of  religious  worship  at  all, 
on  whatsoever  pretence. 

Here  again  the  popish  writers  make  a  noise 
v/iih  that  distinction  under  which  they  think 
to  shili  the  censure  of  idolatry.  Call  it  what 
they  will,  XnTotvn,  or  6"t'X!icu',  surely,  it  comes 
under  the  word  in  the  original,  wiiich  signi- 
fies religious  service  or  worship.  Neither  can 
they  ever  find  in  all  the  Scriptures,  that  any- 
thing of  that  kind  should  be  bestowed  lower 
than  upon  the  majesty  of  God  himself 

This  is  then  the  tenor  of  the  command- 
ment. [1.]  That  no  image  or  representation 
of  God  be  made  at  all :  as  is  expressed  in 
many  other  scriptures,  as  giving  the  sense  of 
this  precept.  [2.]  Nor  that  any  resemblance 
of  any  creature  be  made  for  a  religious  use. 
[3.]  That  neither  to  any  creature,  nor  to  any 
resemblance  or  image,  be  given  any  part  of 
Divine  worship,  although  it  were  with  a  pre- 
tence, yea,  and  intention  of  worshipping  the 
true  (lod  in  and  by  them  :  which,  if  it  were 
a  sufficient  excuse,  as  the  church  of  Rome 
dreams  it  is,  certainly,  the  Israelites'  golden 
calf,  and  many  other  the  grossest  idols  that 
have  been  in  the  world,  might  come  and  find 
room  to  shelter  under  it. 

II.  For  I  the  Lord  thy  God  am  a  jealous 
God.]  This  follows  the  other  part,  as  the 
binding  on,  or  enforcing  of  the  precept  by 
threatening  and  promise  annexed.  Particu- 
larly, there  be  these  fve  things  by  which 
God  describes  himself  here,  to  persuade  obe- 
dience to  tl)is  command:  1.  His  relation  to 
his  pe()[)le — Thy  God.  2.  His  power  both  to 
punish  and  reward — [EL]  The  strong  God. 

3.  The  exact  regard  he  hath  to  his  own  glory 
and  zeal,  or  jealousy  for  it — A  jealous  God. 

4.  The  certainly  and  severity  of  his  justice, 
punishing  the  transgressors  of  this  his  law  on 
themselves  and  their  posterity — Visilmg  the 
inii/uittes  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children, 
ri.  The  plenty  and  riches  of  his  goodness  to 
the  obedient — Showing  mercy  to  thousands 
of  them  that  love  me. 

This  commandment,  and  the  fourth  are 
longer  than  the  rest,  and  more  backed  with 
argument,  because  the  light  of  nature  dis- 
cerns less  in  these  than  in  the  reSt  ;  viz.,  the 
outward  manner  of  the  worship  of  God,  and 
God's  exactness  in  that,  to  be  served  not  as 
we  will,  but  as  he  himself  sees  fit,  and  con- 
cerning the  time  of  it. 

Of  the  first  argument,  from  God's  relation 
to  his  people,  we  heard  before  in  the  preface. 
Here  it  is  repeated  because  it  suits  with  the 
word  that  follows,  Jealous.  1.  Thy  God — 
thy  husband  by  particular  covenant,  and 
therefore  jealous  of  thy  love  and  fidelity  to 
Me  and  my  worship.  2.  El — able  to  rigli' 
Myself  upon  the  mightiest  and  proudest  of 
fender.  Do  we  provoke  the  Lord  to  jealousy  ? 
says  the  apostle.  Are  we  strom^/  r  than  he  ? 
1  Cor.  X.  22;  there  joining  these  two  togeth- 
er, as  here  they  are,  his  strength  and  his 
jealousy.    3.  Jealous — he  is  the  Lord  and 


626 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


nusband  of  his  people,  and  idolatry  is  ihere- 
I'ore  spiiiliial  aiiulHTV  ;  as  iliey  are  often  re- 
proaflud  with  it  under  that  name,  by  the 
prophets,  Jer.  iii.  1,  Jfc.  So  that  by  that  sin 
particularly,  his  an<^er  is  stirred  up  auainst 
them.  Tlie  very  contract  of  this  marriage 
with  his  people  we  have,  E\od.  xix.  5. 

Visiting. — As  judiies  and  niairisi rates  use 
to  visit  those  i)laccs  that  are  under  their  ju- 
risdiction, to  make  iniiuiry  after  abuses  com- 
mitted in  time  of  their  absence,  and  to  pun- 
ish them.  1  Sam.  vii.  16.  Thus,  he  who  is 
always  everywhere  alike  present,  yet,  be- 
cause he  doth  not  speedily  punish  every  sin 
at  the  first,  therefore  when  he  doth  execute 
judgment  in  his  ai)poinied  time,  then  is  he 
said  to  lusit,  and  search,  and  Jind  out  that  in- 
iquity whicii,  in  his  time  of  forbearance,  he 
seemed  to  the  ungodly,  either  not  to  see,  or 
not  to  regard. 

The  inii/uities  of  the  fathers  upon  the  chil- 
dren.] It  is  true,  the  prophet,  correcting  the 
perverse  speech  of  the  people  of  his  lime,  af- 
firms (Ezek.  xviii.  20),  that  the  son  shall  not 
bear  the  iniquitij  of  the  father,  &c.,  to  wit,  he 
repenting  and  returning,  and  being  no  way 
juljiable  of  the  like  iniquity,  which  the  peo- 
ple then  falsely  presumed  of  themselves.  But 
neither  is  it  here  said,  that  the  godly  children 
shall  sufl'er  for  the  siji  of  their  ungodly  pa- 
rents or  ancestors;  but,  because  the  sin  of 
idolary,  or  false  worship  in  any  kind,  doth 
as  commonly  and  readily  descend  to  posterity 
as  any  other,  and  there  is  scarcely  any  plea 
for  false  religion  that  takes  more  than.  It  was 
the  religion  of  our  forefathers,  this  kind  of 
threatening  may  possibly  for  that  cause  be 
here  particularly  suitable. 

But  surely  thai  is  not  all  that  is  here  in- 
tended, that  if  the  children  do  continue  in  the 
sin  of  the  parents,  they  shall  be  punished  ; 
but,  that  for  so  high  a  transgression  as  this, 
he  may  justly,  and  often  doth  in  judgment, 
give  the  children  over  to  the  sins  of  their  pa- 
rents. His  grace  being  free,  and  so,  not  being 
bound  to  his  creature  to  furnish  grace  but 
Adhere  he  will,  they  go  on  in  the  sin  of  their 
fathers,  and  bring  upon  themselves  further 
punishment,  not  onl'-  temporal,  but  spirit- 
ual and  eternal.  It  i.,  not  necessary  for  its 
verifying,  that  it  be  always  so;  for  God,  we 
know,  hath  converted  many  children  of  un- 
godly, yea,  particularly,  of  idolatrous  parents, 
and  showed  them  mercy  ;  but  in  that  he  just- 
ly may  do  thus,  it  is  a  just  threaiening,  and 
that  he  often  doth  thus,  it  is  a  true  threaten- 
ing, although  in  mercy  he  deal  otherwise 
where  it  pleaseth  him. 

TAac  hate  me.]  What !  this  is  so  harsh  a 
word,  that  nobody  will  own  it  ;  not  the  most 
dissolute  and  wicked,  not  the  grossest  idola- 
ters. Yet,  generally,  the  love  of  sin  witnes- 
ses against  men  pcjssessed  with  it,  that  they 
are  fhirriiych  haters  of  God.  And  particu- 
larly the  love  of  idols  and  false  worship, 
alienates  the  soul  from  God,  and  turns  it  to 
enmity  againsi  liim.     Men  sefm,  possibly, 


to  themselves,  in  false  worship,  humble  and 
devout  (Col.  ii.  IS) ;  but  it  is  to  hate  and  dis- 
honor the  Divine  majesty,  to  bring  to  him  and 
force  upon  him,  as  it  were  in  his  own  pres-  / 
ence,  in  his  immediate  service,  that  which  is 
most  hateful  to  him. 

Showing  mercy  to  thousands.]  Blessing 
them  and  their  posterity,  being  their  God,  and 
the  God  of  their  seed.  Of  them  that  lore  me 
and  keep  my  commandments.  Who  therelbre 
obey  me,  because  they  love  me,  and  testify 
they  love  me,  by  obeying  me.  This  is  a 
general  truth,  in  regard  of  all  the  command- 
ments, though  more  particularly  to  be  applied 
to  this  to  which  it  is  annexed.  This  com- 
mandment forbids,  1.  The  making  of  any 
image  or  resemblance  of  God  at  all.  Deut.  iv. 
15.  Ye  saw  no  manner  of  srmilitude,  saya 
Moses,  on  the  day  that  the  Lord  spake  urito 

I  you  in  Horeh.    So,  isa.  xl.  25.     To  whom 

I  will  ye  liken  Me  ? 

I  2.  The  giving  of  any  kind  of  religious  hon- 
or and  worship  to  any  creature  or  created  re- 
semblance. Job  xxxi.  27.  Psalm  cxv.  The 
reason  why  men  are  so  prone  to  both  these, 
is,  because  they  are  so  much  addicted  to 
sense,  and  their  minds  are  so  blinded,  tliat 
they  can  not  conceive  of  the  spiritual  nature 
of  God.  Therefore,  being  driven  by  con- 
science to  some  kind  of  worship  and  religion, 
they  incline  to  have  some  visible  object  oi 
it :  the  soul  having  lost  its  sight,  leans  upon 
the  body,  would  make  it  up,  and  supply  it 
by  the  eye  of  sense. 

I  3.  All  superstition  and  will-worship,  all  sell- 
pleasing  ceremonies  and  inventions  in  the 
service  of  God.  How  pompous,  and  plausi- 
ble, and  devout  soever  they  seem  to  be,  in- 
stead of  decoring,  they  do  indeed  deface  the 
native  beauty  of  Divine  worship;  and,  as 
popish  pictures  on  glass  windows,  they  may 
seem  rich  and  gay,  but  they  darken  the  house  ; 
they  keep  out  the  light  of  saving  truth,  and 
obscure  the  spiritual  part  of  the  service  of 
God. 

4.  All  gross,  material  conceits,  and  appre- 
hensions of  God.  Other  particulars  of  pro- 
hibition may  be  reduced  to  this  command  ; 
I  for  this  and  the  rest  name  but  the  main  of- 
fences and  duties. 

Then  it  commands, 

1.  To  learn,  and  carefully,  and  punctually 
to  observe  the  prescription  of  God  in  every 
part  of  his  own  worship,  and  diligently  to  be 
exercised  in  it,  as  in  hearing,  prayer,  sacra- 
ment, &c. 

2.  In  worshipping  him  to  have  the  purest 
spiritual  notion  of  his  majesty  that  we  are 
able  to  attain  to. 

God  deals  by  representing  both  his  justice 
and  his  mercy  to  persuade  his  people  to  obe- 
dience :  to  drive  them  by  fear  of  the  one,  and 
draw  them  by  the  sweetness  of  the  other. 
Thus,  pastors  are  to  set  both  before  their  peo- 
ple. But  as  he  delichts  most  in  the  pressing 
of  his  mercy,  and  persuading  by  that,  so,  cer 
,  tainly,  it  is  that  which  prevails  most  with 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


627 


his  own  children,  and  doth  most  kindly  melt,  ' 
and  mould  their  hearts  to  his  obedience.  j 

Showing  mercy  to  thousands  of  them  that  i 
love  me  and  keep  my  commandments.^  Al- 
though it  be  not  perfect,  yet,  it  is  such  a  keep- 
ms[  of  his  commandments  as  flows  from  love,  [ 
and  therefore  love  makes  up  what  is  wanting 
in  it  ;  and  that  is  not  perfect,  neither,  in  us 
here,  and  therefore,  mercy  makes  up  what  is 
wantm?  in  both.  It  is  not  such  love  and  obe- 
dience as  can  plead  for  reward  upon  merit, 
but  such  as  stands  in  need  of  mercy  :  and  it 
is  free  grace  and  mercy  that  rewards  it. 

Love  me  and  keep  my  commandments. 
These  two  are  inseparable.  No  keeping  the 
commandments  without  love  ;  no  love  with- 
out keeping  them.  Try,  then,  the  one  by  the 
other — ihe  sincerity  of  your  obedience  by  ex- 
amining the  spring  of  i*.  whether  it  arises 
from  love  ;  and  try  the  reality  of  your  love, 
whether  it  be  active  and  fruitful  in  obedi- 
ence. 

You  know  how  studious  love  is  to  please, 
how  observant  of  their  will  whom  it  affects, 
pieferring  it  to  their  own  will,  and  desirous 
t(>  have  no  will  but  the  same:  it  makes  hard 
things  easy,  and  can  not  endure  to  have  any- 
thing called  difficult  to  it.  Much  love  to  God 
would  do  this  ;  it  would  turn  all  duty  into  de- 
lifjht.  Did  we  once  know  what  this  were, 
we  should  say  with  Augustine,  What  needs 
threatenins;  ond  punishment  to  those  loholove 
thr-e  not  ?  Is  It  not  punishment  enoui^h,  not 
t')  love  thee?  If  you  would  have  all  your 
o!)r-dience  sweet  and  easy  to  yourselves,  and 
ac-''ptable  to  God,  seek,  above  all  things, 
he;  As  inflamed  with  his  love. 

PRECEPT  III. 

Thi  (  shall  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  Ood 
in  vain  ;  for  the  Lord  will  not  hold  hirn  guiltless 
tLat  taketh  his  name  in  vain. 

Ihk  psalmist  stirring  up  himself  to  the 
praises  of  God,  Psalm  Ivii.  8,  calls  up  his  glo- 
ry to  it.  Amtke  my  s-lort/.  By  f^lory,  the 
Hebrew  interpreters  understand  ihe  soul  ;  the 
Septun'^mt .  and  others,  tlie  lom^ue  ;  so  the 
apostle,  following  the  Septuai^int,  renders  it, 
from  Psalm  xv..  Acts  ii.  26.  It  suits  well 
with  both:  the  soul  bcmg  the  better  part  of 
man,  far  excelling  the  body  ;  and  among  the 
parts  of  the  body,  the  tongue  having  this  ex- 
cellency, to  be  the  organ  of  speech,  and  so, 
the  interpreter  of  the  mind  :  and  this  diff'er- 
ence  from  the  beasts,  as  the  soul  is,  m;iy  well 
partake  of  this  honorable  name,  and  be  called 
man's  s^lory. 

But  that  which  gives  them  both  best  title 
tc  that  name,  is  that  exercise  to  which  he 
calls  them,  the  praising  and  crlorifying  of  their 
Lord  and  Maker.  Then  are  they  indeed  our 
glory,  when  they  are  so  taken  up  and  em- 
ployed ;  when  the  one  conceives,  and  the 
01  her  utters  his  glorv. 

And  as  it  becomes  them  always  to  be  one, 
as  they  have  one  name,  the  soul  arn  jhe 
tongue  to  agree,  so,  especially,  sliou  :    as.B  I 


one  name  given  them  be  answered  by  their 
harmony  and  agreement  in  his  own  work,  for 
which  chiefly  they  have  that  name,  in  giving 
glory  to  God.  And  it  is  that  which  tins  com- 
mandment requires  ;  forbidding  that  which 
is  the  ignominy  of  man,  both  of  his  soul  and 
of  his  tongue,  and  which  degrades  them, 
turns  them  out  of  tlie  name  of  glory,  to  be 
called  s/^ffme  and  dishonor;  that  is,  irrever- 
ence, and  the  dishonoring  of  the  glorious 
name  of  God  ;  and  therefore,  on  the  contrary, 
commanding  the  reverent  and  holy  use  of  his 
name  and  service,  and  that  we  always  en- 
deavor so  to  speak  and  think  of  him,  and  so 
to  walk  before  him,  as  those  that  seek  beyond 
all  things,  that  his  name  may  be  glorified  in  us 
and  by  us.  For,  though  false  swearing  and 
vain  swearing  are  main  breaches  of  this 
commandment  (as  we  shall  show  afterward), 
being  primarily  torbidden  by  it,  yet,  it  extends 
generally  to  all  our  speeches  concerning  God. 
Neither  is  it  to  be  restrained  there,  and  kept 
within  that  compass,  as  if  it  gave  only  law 
to  the  tongue  ;  although,  indeed,  the  tongue 
hath  a  very  great  share  in  it,  both  in  the 
breaking  and  the  keeping  of  it :  yet,  certainly 
the  precept,  in  its  full  sense,  goes  deeper  into 
the  soul,  and  gives  a  rule  to  the  speech  of  the 
mind,  our  thnuohts  concerning  God  :  and 
larger,  stretches  itself  forth  to  our  actions  and 
life,  which  hath  as  loud  a  voice,  to  those  with 
whom  we  converse,  as  our  tongues,  and  is 
the  more  considerable  of  the  two — givin?  a 
truer  character  of  men,  what  they  are  indeed, 
than  their  words  can  do. 

The  first  commandmenl  teaches  and  en- 
joins whom  we  shall  worsiiip.  The  second, 
tvhf/t  worship  we  shall  irive  him.  This  tiiird 
shows  us  with  what  disposition  and  intention, 
and  answerably  with  what  manner  of  expres- 
sion, we  shall  worship  him  and  use  his  name  ; 
lliat  it  be  not  vainly,  and  after  a  common, 
trivial  manner,  but  in  holiness  and  humility, 
and  in  desire  of  his  glory. 

Sn,  then,  this  commandment  concerns  par- 
ticularly that  which  is  the  great  end  of  all  the 
works  of  God,  The  glory  of  his  name.  He 
made  all  things  for  himself  (Prov.  xvi.  4), 
His  works  of  creation  for  this  end  (Isa.  xliii. 
7);  those  of  redemption,  and  his  new  creation 
of  the  elect  world,  all  to  the  praise  of  his  trJo- 
rij.  Eph  i.  12.  And  for  this  end  calls  he 
MS  from  darkness  to  light  to  shoir  forth  his 
praises  or  virtues.  1  Pet.  ii.  9.  This  we  are 
to  intend  with  him  :  and  this  precept  requires 
of  us,  that  what  he  aimed  at  in  all  his  works, 
the  same  we  may  intend  in  all  ours.  And 
this  is  an  excellent  thing,  the  holiest  and  hap- 
piest condition,  to  make  God's  purpose  ours, 
and  have  the  same  end  with  him.  Here  it 
is  particularly  true,  Snmma  religionis  estiiri' 
itari  quern  colis:  The  main  of  reli'j^ion  is,  to 
imitate  him  irhom  rre  ivorship.  Thus  are  we 
to  live,  and  particularly,  so  to  worship  him 
and  make  mention  of  his  name,  that  we  be 
ever  sensible  of  its  worth  and  greatness,  and 
so  beware  that  we  indignify  it  not,  but 


628 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


waj-B  seek  to  aJvaiT-.e  tlie  honor  and  glory  of 
it.  And  that  is  tlie  very  scope  of  this  com- 
mand luent. 

There  is  in  it,  I.  The  Precept  itself.  II. 
The  annexed  Coiiiinniai mn. 

In  the  Precept  consider,  1.  What  is  his 
Name.  2.  What  it  is  to  take  il.  What  to 
take  it  in  vain. 

The  name-l  That  is,  [1.]  the  names  that 
are  given  him  in  scripture,  Jehovah,  Elohim. 
&c.'  It  was  a  foolish  and  prolane  shift  of 
'he  Jews,  who  thought  themselves  free  if 
ihey  abused  not  the  name  Jehovah  ;  and  so 
they  became  superstitious  in  tiie  forbearing 
of  that,  and  licentious  in  the  abuse  of  the 
rest,  and  in  swearing  by  other  things  in  heav- 
en and  earth,  fee.  Which,  therefore,  our 
Savior  reproves,  giving  the  true  sense  of  this 
commandment.  Matt.  v.  34.  And  this  is  the 
nature  of  superstition,  to  make  frivolous,  un- 
due restraints,  by  way  of  compensation  for 
that  profane  liberty  and  looseness  in  the  com- 
mandments of  God,  which  is  its  usual  com- 
panion. [2.  ]  All  the  attributes  of  God,  by 
which  the  Holy  Scriptures  set  him  forth  to 
us.  (3. 1  Generally,  anything  whatsoever  by 
which  God  is  made  known  unto  us,  and  dis- 
tinguished from  all  others,  and  by  which  we 
make  mention  of  him,  which  are  the  uses  of 
a  name.  In  a  word,  tliat  of  St.  Paul  expres- 
seth  it  fully  and  filly,  "''n  yv:■^nTw■  r  j,Ot;v. 

Thou  shall  not  take.]  That  is,  thou  shall 
not  take,  or  lift  up,  or  near.  [1.]  Not  use  it 
secretly  by  thyself  or  within  thyself,  in  thine 
own  thoughts,  without  reverence;  nor  take 
it  in  vain.  So,  [2.]  Not  make  mention  of  it, 
or  express  it  to  others,  vainly  ;  not  lift  up  in 
vain.  [3.]  Not  .bear,  not  be  called  by  it,  or 
have  it  called  upon  thee;  not  profess  it  in 
in  vain. 

In  vain.]  That  is,  [1.]  Falsely  and  dissim- 
ulately.  [2.]  Profanely.  [3.]  Unprofitably 
tono{)erson.  [4.].  Lightly  and  inconsiderate 
ly,  without  due  regard  and  holy  fear. 

II.  The  annexed  Comminalion, 

He  will  not  hold  him  i^uiltles.'s.]  He  will 
not  clear  him.  The  sovereign  Judge,  from 
whose  band  no  offender  can  escape,  except 
he  willingly  set  him  free  and  absolve  him. 
He  will  not  absolve  ihem  who  abuse  his 
name.  And  it  means  further,  he  will  not 
olear  him  ;  that  is,  he  will  certainly  punish 
liim,  and  do  judgment  on  him  as  guilty.  And 
this  is  the  rather  particularly  here  expressed, 
because  men  are  subject  foolishly  to  promise 
themselves  impunity  in  this  sin,  thinking 
either  that  there  remains  no  guiltiness  behind 
it,  but  it  passes  as  the  words  do  ;  or,  if  there 
be  any,  yet,  being  but  a  matter  of  words, 
wherein  the  most  usual  and  known  breach  of 
this  command  consists,  that  ihe  tr.uiltiness  of 
them  is  so  small,  that  any  little  excuse  may 
wipe  it  off';  that  it  is  but  inadvertence,  or  a 
bad  custom,  or  some  such  thing.  No,  says 
the  Lord,  the  Lawgiver  himself,  delude  not 
yourselves  ;  think  not  the  honor  and  dishon- 
or of  my  name  a  light  matter ;  or,  if /ou  will, 


yet  I  will  not  think  it  so,  nor  shall  you  find  it 
so  :  thou;;!)  you  easily  forgive  and  clear  your- 
selves, I  will  not  clear  you,  but  will  vindicate 
the  glorv  of  my  name  in  your  just  punisii- 
ment,  which  your  sin  of  taking  it  in  vain  did 
abuse  and  dishonor,  and  you  shall  feel  in  that 
punishment  that  you  are  not  guiltless,  as  you 
j  imagined.  The  name  of  God  is  great,  and 
iveiiihl  I/,  and  honnrahle  (as  the  same  Hebrew 
word  signifies  both),  and  therefore,  y?//  nssu- 
munt  vel  atlollunt,  n9  ihe  stimeword  liereis  -■ 
they  who  offer  to  lift  up  this  weiglity  nam«> 
lightly  and  regardlessly,  it  shall  fall  upon 
them,  and  they  shall  be  crushed  under  ihu 
weight  of  it. 

There  are  many  questions  relating  to  this 
commandment,  handled  and  discussed  by  di- 
vines, as,  of  an  oath,  a  vow,  &c.,  which,  for 
our  purposed  brevity,  we  will  pass  by  ;  and 
only,  according  to  our  usual  method,  add  some 
chief  heads  of  the  violation  and  the  observance 
of  this  commandment. 

It  forbids,  1.  All  false  swearing  or  perjury, 
which  is  to  take  his  name  after  the  grossest 
manner  m  vain,  or  in  mendaciiim,  as  the  word 
likewise  signifies  ;  to  call  Truth  itself,  the 
first  Verity,  to  partake  of  a  lie.  But  he  is  not 
mocked  ;  for  as  the  nature  of  an  oath  imports 
invocating  him  as  the  highest  both  witness 
and  judge  of  truth,  and  punisber  of  falsehoof], 
he  always,  in  his  own  due  time,  makes  it 
good  on  those  who  dare  adventure  upon  that 
guiltiness  in  so  high  a  sin. 

2.  Papal  dispensation  of  oaths,  which  is  a 
most  heinous  sin,  and  becomes  him  who  is 
eminently  called  The  man  of  sin.  it  is  more 
than  perjury  ;  for  it  is  a  professed,  avow- 
ed patrociny  of  perjury,  together  with  an 
impudent  conceit  of  a  privilege  and  right  to 

j  do  so. 

3.  Equivocatory  oaths,  by  which,  if  it  were 
lawful,  the  grossest  perjury  might  be  defend- 
ed ;  for  there  is  nothing  so  false,  but  some 
mental  reservation  may  make  it  true. 

4.  Abusing  the  name  and  the  word  of  God 
to  charms  and  spells. 

5.  Execration  and  cursing  by  the  name  of 
Satan,  which  is  no  other  than  invocating  him. 

6.  Swearing  by  any  creature. 

7.  Abusing  and  vilifying  the  glorious  and 
holy  name  of  God,  by  passionate,  or  by  vain 
and  common,  customary  swearing. 

8.  Swearing  for  ends  of  controversy,  and  in 
weight)  matters,  where  an  oath  is  lawful,  yea, 
necessary,  yet  doing  it  without  due  reverence 
and  consideration  of  the  greatness  of  God  and 
the  nature  of  an  oath. 

9.  The  abasing  of  the  word  of  God,  eithei 
wresting  it  to  defence  of  error,  or  making 
sport  and  jesting  with  it. 

10.  Scofling  and  taunting  at  holiness  and 
the  exercises  of  religion. 

11.  Dishonoring  the  religion  which  we  pro- 
fess, bv  unworthy  and  unsuitable  carriage 
of  life.' 

12.  Performing  prayer,  or  any  other  reli- 
gious f  xe'-'-'se,  only  out  of  custom,  without 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


629 


affection  and  delight,  and  holy  regard  of  the 
presence  and  majesty  of  God  in  his  worship. 
More  might  be  added,  which  for  brevity  we 
omit. 

Is  it  not  the  highest  shame  of  Christians, 
to  take  pleasure  to  vilify  and  abuse  that  holy 
name  of  God,  which  saints  and  angels  are 
blessing  above,  and  which  we  hope  (as  we 
pretend)  to  bless  with  them  for  ever  If  any 
dare  offer  to  excuse  i:  by  provocation  or  pas- 
sion, who  otherwise  use  it  not;  consider, 
what  a  madness  this  is,  because  man  hath 
injured  thee,  thou  wilt  injure  God,  and  be 
avenged  upon  his  name  for  it  ?  And  you 
who  plead  custom,  accurse  yourselves  more 
deeply  :  that  tells,  you  are  guilty  of  long 
continuance  in,  and  IVequent  commission  of, 
this  horrible  sin.  Were  the  fear  of  God  in 
men's  hearts,  it  would  prevail  both  above 
their  passion  and  their  custom.  Did  they  be- 
lieve this,  that  the  Lord  will  not  clear  them 
in  his  great  day,  it  would  fright  them  out 
of  their  custom.  Were  there  a  law  made, 
that  whosoever  were  heard  swear,  should  be 
put  to  death,  you  woukl  find  a  way  to  break 
your  custom.  God  threatens  eternal  death, 
and  you  fear  not,  because  indeed  you  believe 
not. 

It  commands,  1.  Generally  the  reverend 
and  holy  use  of  the  name  of  God,  and,  par- 
ticularly in  case  of  necessity,  by  advised  and 
religious  swearing  by  his  name,  and  his 
alone,  in  judgment,  truth,  and  righteousness. 

2.  To  consider  his  name  often,  to  take  it  into 
our  thoughts,  to  rnediiateon  his  glorious  at- 
tributes, and  on  his  w(jrds  and  works,  in  both 
which  those  attributes  shine  I'orth  unto  us. 

3.  To  delight  to  make  mention  of  his  name 
upon  all  fit  occasions,  and  to  s[)cak  to  his  glo- 
ry.   4.  To  adorn  our  holy  profession  of  re- 
ligion with  a  holy  life,  with  wise  and  cir- 
cumspect walking,  that  it  may  not  be  evil 
spoken  of  by  our  means.    5.  That  our  heart 
and  affection  be  in  the  service  of  God  which  ' 
we  perform  ;  otherwise  how  plausible  soever 
the  appearance  and  outside  of  it  is,  it  is  noth- 
ing but  guiltiness  within,  a  taking  of  his 
name  in  vain,  who  xcill  not  hold  him  guiltless 
who  does  so.    6.  Above  all  exercises,  to  de-  j 
light  in  the  praises  of  God,  which  is  most 
properly  the  exalting  and  magnifying  of  his 
name,  the  lifting     up  on  high.    The  psalm- 
ist abounds  in  cowimeriding  it:  It  is  <rnotl,  it  ' 
is  comely,  it  is  pleasant.    Oh  !  that  we  could 
resolve  with  him,  Psalm  xxxiv.  1,2:7  will 
bless  the  Lord  at  all  times  ;  his  praise  shall 
be  in  my  mouth  conlinually.    My  soul  shall  I 
make  her  hoast  in  the  Lord.    This  is,  as  we 
can,  to  bear  a  part  here  with  glorified  spirits  ;  ) 
and  a  certain  pledge  to  us,  tliat,  after  a  few 
days,  we  shall  be  admitted  into  their  number. 

PRECEPT  IV. 

Remember  the  Salibath  (Jay,  tc  ):?op  it  holy  Six 
days  shall  thoii  l-ilmr,  -.md  ilo  all  thy  worl<.    But  i 
the  seventh  is  the  Sahhatli  of  thf  l.onl  thy  (lo  " :  | 
ID  it  ihou  nhaUnot  do  and  work  thou,  nor  tby  sou, 


nor  thy  daughter,  thy  man-servant,  nor  thy  m^\d 
servant,  nor  thy  cattle,  nor  the  stranger  within  thj 
gates  ;  For  in  six  days  tlie  Lord  made  heaven  ano 
eartli,  the  sea,  and  all  that  in  them  is,  and  rested 
the  seventh  day  :  wherefore  the  Lord  blessed  the 
Sabbath  day  and  hallowed  it. 

Among  all  the  visible  creatures,  it  is  man's 
peculiar  excellency,  that  he  is  capable  of  con- 
sidering and  worshipping  his  Maker,  and 
I  was  made  for  that  purpose  ;  yet  being  corn- 
posed  of  the  dust  of  the  earth  and  the  breath 
{  of  God,  a  body  and  a  soul,  the  necessities  of 
I  that  meaner  part,  while  we  are  in  this  life, 
I  employ  as  much,  and  take  up  a  great  part 
j  of  our  little  time.    And  in  this  regard  God 
hath  wisely  and  graciously  set  apart  a  day 
i  for  us,  one  of  each  seven,  to  be  appropriate 
to  that  our  highest  employment,  the  contem- 
plating and  solemn  worshipping  of  his  Maj- 
esty. This  is  the  scope  of  this  precept.  Con- 
sider, 

I.  The  precept  itself.    II.  The  reason  of 
it,  and  motive  to  its  obedience.    The  precept 
I  itself  is  first  briefly  expressed  ;  and  then,  fur- 
ther explained  and  urged. 

Remember.]  This  word  used  seems,  1.  To 
reflect  u[)oii  by-past  omission  and  forgetful- 
iiess.  For,  though  it  was  instituted  in  jjara- 
j  dise,  and  was  not  now  a  new  unheard-of 
thing  to  this  people,  as  ai)pears  byExod.  xvi. 
I  23,  yet,  it  is  like  they  were  much  worn  out 
'  of  the  observation  and  practice  of  it,  espe- 
cially during  the  time  of  their  captivity  in 
Kgypt.  So  then,  it  is  renewed  thus:  keep 
holy  this  day  which  you  know  was  so  long  ago 
a[)pc»inted  to  be  so — be  not  now  any  more  un- 
mindful and  regardless  of  it.  2.  Such  a  wav 
of  enjoining  seems  more  [)ariicularly  needful 
in  this  than  in  the  rest,  because  it  is  not  so 
written  in  nature  as  the  rest,  hut  depends 
wholly  upon  particular  institution, which  may 
also  be  the  cause  why  it  is  so  large,  and  the 
form  of  It  alone,  among  all  the  ten,  both  neg- 
ative and  positive.  1  hou  shall  do  no  work, 
and  rememher  to  keep  it  holy.  3.  But  the 
main  reason  of  this  remember,  is  the  main 
thing  or  aim  in  this  precept,  as  both  the 
badge,  and  the  preserver  and  increaser  of  all 
piety  and  religion.  And  therefore  is  it,  thai 
it  IS  so  often  pressed  in  the  books  of  the  law, 
and  in  the  sermons  of  the  prophets  to  the 
peo|)le  of  (iod,  and  so  often  called  a  siirn  of 
God's  covenant  with  them,  and  their  mark 
of  distinction  from  all  other  people.  Exodus 
xxiii.  12,  and  xxxi.  13,  14.  Levit.  xix.  30  : 
XXV.  2,  &c.    Jer.  xvii.    Isa.  Iviii.  13,  14,  &e. 

The  Sabbath  day.']  It  is  called  a  day  of  rest 
from  the  beginning  and  original  of  its  insti- 
tution, God's  rest;  and  from  the  end  of  its 
institution,  man's  rest;  both  which  follow  in 
the  words  (jf  the  command  :  the  one  is  the 
example  and  enforcing  reason  of  the  other. 

Thai  thou  keep  hoh/.]  God  sanctified  it  by 
instituting  it,  and  man  sanctifies  it  by  observ- 
ing it  accordinnf  to  that  institution. 

This  sanctifyinir  is  [I.J  In  cessation  frona 
earthly  labor.  '[2.J  In  their  stead,  to  be  whol- 


5:?n  EXPOSITION  OF  THE 

ly  possessed  and  taken  up  with  spiritual  ex- 
ercise, both  in  i)riv:Ue  and  in  public.  The 
former  is  necessary  lor  the  hein<j  of  tlie  lat- 
ter;  liiat  cessation,  lor  this  work:  and  the 
latter  is  necessary  for  the  due  boiiiir  of  liie 
fornii  r  :  we  can  not  be  vacant  and  entire  for 
spiriiua.  service,  unless  we  cease  from  bodily 
labor  ;  and  this  cessation  or  resting  from  bod- 
ily labor  can  not  be  a  sanctil'ying  of  this  day 
unto  God,  unless  it  be  accompanied  with 
spiritual  exercise. 

la  the  following  words,  thai  part  only  is 
expressed,  the  rest  or  absiinency  from  work  ; 
but  the  other  issu|)posed  as  the  end  of  this— 
that  they  shall  not  do  their  own  works,  that 
they  may  attend  upon  (Tod's,  bis  solenni  wor- 
ship. And  this  is  iiu])lied  in  that  word,  It  is 
the  sdlibdilt  of  the  Lord  thy  God  ;  both  of  his 
own  appointing,  and  for  this  end,  this  work, 
that  he  may  be  more  solenmly  worshipped. 
And  likewise,  the  antithesis  that  seems  to  be 
in  that  word,  In  six  days  thou  shall  do  all  thy 
work,  imports,  that  on  the  seventh  thou  slialt 
do  God's.  Not  so  called,  that  any  benefit 
arises  to  him  by  our  service  ;  no,  our  goodness 
reaches  him  not  at  all.  Psalm  xvi.  2.  In  that 
way,  that  worship,  which  is  far  above  ours, 
that  of  the  angels,  can  add  nothing  to  him, 
for  he  is  infinite.  Even  this  work,  sabbath- 
work,  and  all  our  prayers  and  praises  offered 
to  him,  and  all  performances  of  his  worship, 
they  are  our  works,  in  respect  of  the  gain  and 
advantage  of  them  :  it  comes  all  back  to  us. 
But  his  worship  is  his  work  ohjeclivchj,  he  is 
the  object  of  it  ;  and  directirel i/,  by  particular 
prescription  from  himself :  and  if  you  will  add, 
effectively,  too,  never  done  aright  but  by  his 
own  grace  and  assistance. 

Six  days  shall  Ihou  labor.]  The  (Command 
of  due  labor  and  diligence  in  our  particular 
callings,  is  not  of  this  place  :  it  belongs  prop- 
erly to  the  eighth  precept,  and  in  some  way 
to  the  seventh  :  here  it  is  only  mentioned  pre- 
missively,  and  I'oc  illustration  of  this  duty 
here  enjoined.  And  further,  there  is  under  it 
a  motive  from  abundant  equity  :  seeing  that 
God  hath  made  the  projiortion  thus,  not 
pinched  to  us,  but  dealt  very  liberally  in  the 
time  granted  for  our  own  work,  wliat  gross, 
not  impiety  only,  but  iniquity  and  ingratitude 
will  it  be,  to  encroach  upon  that  small  part 
he  ha|h  nominated  and  set  apart  for  his  ser- 
vice !  This  was  a  great  aggravation  of  our 
first  parents'  first  sin,  that  having  the  free  use 
of  all  the  trees  in  the  garden  beside,  they 
would  not  bate  that  one  which  was  forbidden 
Iliem,  in  homage  and  obedience  to  hitn  who 
had  given  them  all  the  rest,  and  given  them 
themselves,  who  a  little  before  were  nothing. 

Thou  shall  labor  six  days.  Not  so  as  in 
them  to  forget  and  take  no  notice  of  Gcjd,  nor 
at  all  to  call  u[)i)n  him  and  worship  him,  and 
think  '.o  acquitall  by  some  kind  of  attendance 
on  him  on  the  sabbaih.  They  who  do  so  are 
most  inisanctified  themselves,  and  therefore 
ran  not  sanctify  the  sabbath  to  God.  iSucli 
proAme  persons  do  profane  and  pollute  all 


TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 

they  touch  with  their  foul  hands,  for  such  o*" 
j  all  ]nofane  hands  lilted  u[)  to  God  in  jjrayer 
I  The  life  of  the  godly  is  not  a  visiting  of  Gou 
!  only  in  bis  house  on  tjiis  day,  but  a  daily  and 
constant  walking  with  God  in  their  own 
[  houses,  and  in  all  our  ways,  making  both  uur 
;  houses  and  our  hearts  his  houses,  his  temples, 
where  he  may  dwell  with  us,  and  we  may 
ofTer  him  our  daily  sacrifices. 

Only,  the  peculiar  of  this  day  is,  that  we 
may  not  divide  it  between  heaven  and  earth, 
hut  it  shall  be  wholly  for  the  service  of  God, 
and  no  work  at  all  to  have  place  in  it  that 
;  may  hinder  that,  and  suits  not  with  the  sanc- 
tifying of  it :  for  so  we  are  to  understand  the 
word.  No  manner  of  work. 

Neither  ihou  nor  ihy  servajil,  &CC.]  As  each 
one  is  obliged  personally,  so,  they  who  have 
command  of  otiiers,  are  bound  to  bind  them 
to  observance  of  the  precept,  and  the  cattle 
'  to  rest,  because  their  labor  is  for  man's  use, 
and  therefore  his  resting  infers  theirs;  as, 
likewise  their  rest  is  for  a  passive  conformity, 
that  man  may  see  nothing  round  about  him 
but  what  may  incite  to  the  observance  of  this 
day  ;  which  was  the  reason,  in  solemn  fasts, 
I  of  the  beasts'  fasting  likewise,  for  man's  fur- 
ther humiliation.    The  stranger,  if  converted 
and  professing  theii  religion,  the  same  reason 
1  for  him  as  for  all  others  within  a  man's  house  : 
'  and  if  a  stranger  to  their  religion  too,  yet  they 
I  might,  and  ought,  as  is  here  commanded, 
1  oblige  him  to  this  part  of  outward  conformity, 
'  cessation  from  work,  which  otherwise  would 
I  be  an  offensive  and  scandalous  sight  ;  and 
withal,  if  they  did  any  work  for  those  with 
whom  they  dwelt,  their  share  would  be  deep- 
er in  the  sin,  than  of  such  a  stranger  not  pro- 
fessing their  religion. 

For  in  six  days.]  It  is  not  pertinent  here 
to  speak  of  the  reason  of  this,  why  God  made 
six  days'  work  of  that  which  he  could  have 
done  in  one  instant.  Here,  it  is  only  urged 
exemplarily,  as  the  reason  why  God  did  sanc- 
tify this  day,  and  why  we  should  sanctify  it. 
His  rest,  you  know,  is  not  of  weariness,  or  at 
all  of  ceasing  from  motion,  for  He  faints  not, 
!  neither  is  ivcaried,  as  he  tells  us  by  the 
prophet,  Isa.  xl.  28 ;  yea,  he  moves  not  at  all 
in  w<irking.  Omnia  moi^et  ipse  irnmotus :  All 
j  things,  himself  unmoved,  are  moved  by  him. 
But  this  rest  is  this  :  that  this  was  the  day 
that  immediately  followed  ibe  perfecting  of 
the  creation  ;  and  therefore  God  blessed  it 
with  this  privilege  (that  is  the  blessing  of  it), 
that  it  should  be  to  men  holy,  for  the  contem- 
plation of  God  and  of  his  works,  and  for  sol- 
emn worship  to  be  i)crformed  to  him. 

All  the  other  precepts  of  this  law  remain- 
ing in  full  force  in  their  proper  sense,  it  car 
not  but  be  an  injury  done  to  this  command, 
either  flatly  to  refuse  it  that  privilege,  or, 
^  which  is  little  better,  to  evaporate  it  into  alle- 
gories. Nor  was  the  day  abolished  as  a  typi- 
cal ceremony,  but  that  seventh  only  changed 
to  a  seventh  s»rill,  and  the  very  next  to  it  ;  he 
I  who  is  Lord  if  the  sabbath,  either  himself 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


631 


nmediitely,  or  by  his  authority  in  his  apos- 
!es,  appointing  that  day  of  his  resurrection 
LOT  our  sabbath,  adding  to  the  remembrance 
of  the  first  creation,  the  memoridl  of  accom- 
plishing the  new  creation,  the  work  of  our 
redemption,  which  appeared  then  manifestly 
to  be  perfected,  when  our  Redeemer  broke 
the  chains  of  death,  and  arose  from  the  grave; 
he  who  is  the  light  of  the  new  world,  shining 
forth  anew  the  same  day  that  light  was  made 
m  the  former  creation.  This  day  was  St. 
John,  m  the  Spirit,  taken  up  with  those  ex- 
traordinary revelations.  Rev.  i.  10.  They 
were  extraordinary  indeed.  And  certainly, 
every  Christian  ought  to  be  i7i  the  Spirit,  in 
holy  meditations  and  exercises  on  this  day, 
more  than  the  rest  ;  winding  up  his  soul, 
which  the  body  poises  downward,  to  a  high- 
er degree  of  heavenliness  ;  ousjht  to  be  par- 
ticularly careful  to  bring  an  humble  heart  to 
speak  to  God  in  prayer,  and  hear  him  in  his 
word,  a  heart  breatlnng  after  him,  longing  to 
meet  with  himself  in  his  ordinances.  And, 
certainly,  it  is  safer  and  sweeter  to  be  thus 
affected  toward  the  Lord''s  dai/,  than  to  be 
much  busied  about  the  debate  of  the  change. 

The  very  life  of  religion  doth  much  depend 
upon  the  solemn  observation  of  this  day. 
Consider,  if  we  should  intermit  the  keeping 
of  it  but  for  one  year,  to  what  a  height  pro- 
faneness  would  rise  in  those  who  fear  not  God, 
who  yet  are  restrained,  though  not  converted, 
by  the  preaching  of  the  word,  and  their  out- 
ward partaking  of  public  worship.  Yea,  those 
who  are  most  spiritual  would  find  themselves 
losers  by  the  intermission. 

What  forbidden. — 1.  Bodily  labor  on  this 
day,  where  necessity  unavoidable,  or  pietv, 
commands  not.  2.  Sportinar  and  pastime.* 
This  is  not  to  make  it  a  sabbath  to  God,  but 
10  our  lusts  and  to  Satan  ;  and  haih  a  strong- 
er antipathy  with  the  worship  of  God,  and 
that  temper  of  mind  they  intend  in  it,  than 
the  hardest  labor.  3.  Resting  from  these, 
but  withal  resting  from  the  proper  work  of 
this  day,  neglecting  the  worship  of  God  in 
the  assemblies  of  his  people.  The  beasts 
can  keep  it  thus,  as  we  see  in  the  precept.  4. 
Resorting  lo  the  public  worship  of  God,  but 
in  a  customary,  cold  way,  without  affection 
and  spiritual  deliijlit  in  it.  .5.  Spending  the 
remainder  of  the  day  incongruously,  in  vain 
visits  and  discourses,  &c. 

How  ohaiirvi'd. — 1.  By  pious  remembrance 
of  it,  and  preparation,  sequesiering  not  only 
the  body  from  the  labor,  but  our  souls  from 
the  cares  and  other  vain  thoughts  of  the 
world.  2.  AtiendiiiiT  upon  the  public  wor- 
ship of  God  willingly  and  heartily,  as  the 
joy  and  refreshment  of  our  souls.  Isa.  Iviii.  ; 
Psalm  cxxii.  .3.  Spending  the  remainder  of 
It  in  private,  holily  ;  as  much  as  may  be,  in 
meditation  (jf  the  word  preached,  and  con- 
ference, in  prayer,  reading,  and  meditating 
on  the  great  works  of  God,  of  creation,  re- 
demption, &c. 

*  Sabb.  vituli  aurei. 


I  This  is  the  loveliest,  brightest  day  m  all 
the  week  to  a  spiritual  mind.    1'hese  rests 

I  refresh  the  soul  in  God,  that  finds  nothing  but 
turmoil  in  the  creature.    Should  not  this  day 

;  be  welcome  to  the  soul,  that  sets  it  free  to 
mitid  its  own  business,  which  is  on  other  days 
to  attend  the  business  of  its  servant,  the  body  ? 
And  these  are  a  certain  j.  ledge  to  it  of  that 
expected  freedom,  when  it  shall  enter  to  an 
eternal  sabbath,  and  rest  in  him  for  ever,  who 
is  the  only  rest  of  the  soul. 

PRECEPT  V. 

Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother,  that  thy  days  njaj 
j     be  long  in  the  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God  givetl 
thee. 

The  renewed  image  of  God  in  man,  or  the 
j  neu)  wan,  is  made  up  oi' holiness  and  righteous- 
ness. Ephes.  iv.  24.    These  two  are  that  of 
which  the  whole  law  of  God  is  the  rule:  the 
first  table,  the  rule  of  holiness  or  piety  tow- 
ard God  ;  the  second,  of  righteousness  or  equi- 
j  ty  toward  men.    And  of  the  commandments 
i  which  concern  the  latter,  the  first  aims  at  the 
preserving  of  that  order  which  God  hath  ap- 
pointed in  the  several  relations  of  superiors 
and  inferiors  ;  that  is  the  scope  of  this  fifth 
commandment. 

Daily  experience  teacheth  us  how  needful 
t  this  is,  that  God  should  give  a  particular  pre- 
1  cept  concerning  this  ;  in  that  we  see  how  few 
there  are  who  know  aright,  either  how  to 
command  and  bear  rule  as  superiors,  or  as  in- 
I  feriors,  to  obey  and  be  subject.    And  there  is 
i  one  evil  very  natural  to  men,  which  misleads 
them  in  both,  pride  and  self-opinion,  \vhich 
often  makes  su|)eriors  affect  excess  in  com- 
j  manding,  and  in/'eriors  defective  in  due  obe- 
dience. 

Observe  the  order  :  it  hath  the  first  place 
in  the  second  table  :  1st.  As  being  the  rule 
of  order  and  society  among  men,  which  i? 
needful  lor  the  better  observing  of  all  the 
rest.    And,  2dly,  as  in  all  authority,  there  is 
ia  particular  resemblance  of  God,  rlierefore  it 
I  is  filly  placed  next  to  those  prece|)ts  that  coa- 
j  tain  our  duty  to  himself,    lie  is  [)leased  to 
1  use  that  interchange  of  names  with  su|)erior8 
which  testifies  this  resemblance  ;  not  only  to 
take  theirs  to  himself,  to  be  called  a  father 
a  master,  a  kinir,  &c.,  but  to  communicate  his 
own  name  to  them,  and  call  them  ^'o^/.s-.  And 
where  the  apostle  speaks  of  God  as  the  Fa- 
ther of  Spirits,  he  draws  a  reason  from  that 
obedience  we  owe  to  the  fathers  of  our  flesh, 
as  the  subordinate  causes  of  our  being.  Heb. 
xii.  9.  • 

There  is  in  the  v/ords,  I.  The  precept.  II. 
The  promise.  And  it  is  called  by  the  apostle. 
The  first  rAitninandmenl  with  promise.  Ephes. 
vi.  2.  For  the  last  clause  of  ihe  se(;oiid  com- 
mandment, though  it  imply  a  |)romise,  yet,  as 
is  usually  observed,  it  is  general  to  the  keep- 
[  i-^g  of  all  the  commandments;  whereas  this 
j  is  appropriate.    But  again,  that  is  a  promise 


fi32 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS, 


of  mercy  in  general,  this  of  one  particular 
blessing.  Funlier,  tiiat  il  ib  not  fornialiy  a 
jiroinise.  thuugli  it  implies  one  indeed,  and  is 
intended  so  :  hut  it  is  set  down  bv  way  of  de- 
scri|)iion  of  God,  from  his  mercy  and  bounty 
to  tliose  who  keep  liis  precepts;  as  tiie  clause 
forcH'oinir  it  expresses  his  justice  in  punishing 
the  rebellious. 

Honor.]  Under  tiiis  is  comprehended  what- 
soever is  due  to  superiors,  by  virtue  uf  that 
their  station  and  relation  to  us:  inward  re- 
spectful iluiughts  and  esteem  of  them,  and 
the  outward  expression  and  signifying  of  it 
by  the  usual  si^ns  of  honor,  and  by  obedience 
and  gratitude,  &c. 

T/n/  father,  &c.]  This  relation  is  named 
for  all  the  rest,  as  bein<i  the  first  and  most 
natural :  and  also  as  being  the  sweetest  and 
most  affectionate  sujjeriority,  and  therefore 
the  fittest  to  regulate  the  command  of  sujie- 
riors,  and  to  persuade  inferiors  to  obedience. 
Magistrates  are  fathers  for  men's  civil  arood 
in  their  societies  and  dwelling  together ;  min- 
isters, fathers  for  their  spiritual  good  and  so- 
ciety as  Christians. 

That  thy  diiys  may  he  long  in  th  .mtd.] 
That  it  is  said,  "ll7(/c/i  the  Lord  thy  God  shall 
give  thee,  is  peculiar  to  that  people  to  whom 
this  law  was  first  delivered  ;  but  the  substance 
of  the  promise  being  common,  extends  to  all 
together  with  the  precept. 

This  blessing  of  length  of  days  is  particu- 
arly  fit  for  tiie  duty  :  that  they  who  hontjr 
their  parents,  who  are  the  second  causes  of 
their  life,  should  be  blessed  with  long  life. 

This,  as  all  other  promises  of  temporal 
things,  is  ever  to  be  taken  with  tliat  condition 
without  which  they  might  change  their  qual- 
ity, and  prove  rather  i)unishments  :  but  (rod 
always  bestows  th  ^m  on  his  own,  and  there- 
fore ought  to  be  Understood  so  to  promise 
them,  in  so  far  as  they  are  fit  for  them,  and 
may  be  truly  good  in  their  particular  enjcy- 
uient,  and  as  they  conduce  to  a  greater  good. 

It  forhuts — 1.  All  disobedience  in  inferiors 
to  the  jusi  commands  of  those  whom  God 
hath  placed  in  authority  above  them  ;  stub- 
bornness and  rebellion  in  children  against 
their  parents,  or  des{)ising  and  disesteem  of 
them  for  their  meanness  in  body,  or  mind, 
01  estate.    The  precept  is  not,  honor  thy 

Fiarents  for  their  riches,  or  wisdom,  or  come- 
iness ;  but,  honor  them  as  thy  parents,  and 
because  they  are  so.  Against  this  com- 
mand is  all  other  disobedience  or  refractori- 
ness of  those  who  owe  obedience  :  wives  to 
their  husbands,  servants  to  their  masters,  peo- 
ple to  their  pastors,  &:c. 

2.  Superiors  break  it,  when^they  abuse 
their  authority  to  serve  their  pride.  Their 
screwing  it  too  high,  is  very  unpleasant,  a 
particular  dishonor  to  God,  and  defaces  the 
resemblance  ihey  have  of  him  :  it  spoils  their 
harrijonv,  as  a  siring  too  high  wound  up  ;  and 
besides  that,  it  is  very  dangerous,  being  the 
ready  way  to  break  it.  As  in  magistracy  and 
public  government,  tyranny  is  nK)st  observa- 


ble, so  there  is  petty  tyranny  in  masters  and 
parents,  and  husbands,  in  extreme  harshness 
and  bitterness,  ^f/  mKiiaii'trc,  says  the  apostle, 
&c.  Again,  the  prece|)t  is  broken,  when  su 
l)eriors  walk  unworthily,  and  so  divest  them- 
selves of  that  honor  which  belon<;s  to  them. 

It  commands — First,  that  children  give  due 
respect  and  obedience  to  their  parents;  and 
thai  all  who  are  subject  to  the  authority 
of  others,  thouirh  they  have  not  suitable  de- 
serving, give  it  to  their  station,  in  obedience 
to  God  who  commands.  For  though  they, 
personally  considered,  do  not,  yet  certainly 
God  deserves  our  obedience.  And  it  is  so 
much  the  purer  to  him,  when,  other  incite- 
ments failing,  yet  we  observe  that  wliich 
fades  not  at  all. 

All  obedience  to  men  is  limited  thus,  that 
it  be  in  the  Lord,  and  witli  regard  to  his  su- 
premacy ;  and  therefore  no  authority  can 
oblige  to  the  obedience  of  any  command  that 
crosses  his.  Auihoiiiy  is  primitively  and 
originally  in  God,  and  he  gives  not  his  glory 
to  another.  He  gives  not  away  any  of  his 
peculiar  authority  to  man,  but  substitutes 
him  ;  and  our  first  tie  is  to  God,  as  his  crea- 
tures, and  this  is  universal.  The  greatest 
kings  are  his  vassals,  and  owe  him  homage, 
and  no  authority  derived  from  him,  can  free 
us  from  that  which  we  owe  to  himself. 
There  is  a  straight  line  of  subordination,  and 
if  superiors  leave  this,  we  are  to  adhere  to  it, 
looking  directly  to  God,  keeping  our  station. 
Some  of  the  schoolmen  think  that  the  inferi- 
or angels  therefore  fell  with  the  chief  in  their 
apostacy,  because  they  looked  so  much  upon 
him,  that  they  considered  him  not  in  subor- 
dination to  God,  and  so,  left  their  station,  as 
the  apostle  speaks,  Jude  6. 

Secondly,  The  duly  of  all  superiors  is, 
1.  To  consider  that  iheir  higher  station  is  not 
for  themselves,  and  for  their  own  advantage, 
but  for  those  who  are  in  subjection  to  them : 
as  the  stars  are  set  in  the  highest  place,  but 
are  for  the  benefit  of  the  inferior  world,  by 
their  light  and  heat  and  influence  :  Let  them 
he  for  li<rhls  i?i  the  firmament  of  heaven,  to 
g!ve  light  upon  the  earth.  Gen.  i.  15.  2.  Let 
them  always  remember,  to  command  in  God 
and  for  him  ;  to  prefer  his  honor  to  their 
own  ;  and  seeing  he  gives  command  concern- 
ing theirs,  that  they  make  it  serviceable  for 
the  advancing  of  his.  For,  to  this  purpose 
hath  he  given  them  authority,  and  given 
command  that  they  be  honored  ;  and  his 
promise  is,  to  honor  those  that  honor  him,  but 
they  that  despise  him,  shall  be  despised.  1  Sam. 
ii.  30.  This  many  su|)eriors  have  felt,  be- 
cause they  would  not  believe  it  and  lake  no- 
lice  of  it. 

Would  parents  teach  their  children  to  know 
God,  and  honor  and  obey  him,  this  were  the 
surest  and  most  effectual  way  to  make  them 
obedient  children  to  them.  If  they  leach 
them  to  obey  God,  you  see,  he  commands 
them  to  obey  their  parents  ;  and  therefore,  in 
,  obedience  to  him,  they  will  do  so. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


633 


PRECEPT  VI. 
Thou  shall  not  kill.    Or,  Thou  shall  do  no  murder. 

The  world  was  at  first  perfect  harmoay,  but 
sin  made  the  breach  at  which  discord  entered, 
enmity  between  God  and  man,  and  enmity 
between  man  and  man.  As  the  sin  that  hath 
poisoned  man's  nature  makes  him  a  rebel  to 
God,  so  it  makes  men  tigers  and  wolves  one 
to  another  ;  and  that  same  serpent  that  at 
first  envenomed  our  nature,  doth  still  hiss  on 
wretched  men,  ho'h  to  disobedience  against 
God,  and  enmity  and  cruelty  against  one  an- 
other. We  see  how  soon  this  evil  followed 
upon  the  former:  the  first  parents  disobeyed 
God,  and  tlie  first  children,  the  one  killed  the 
other.  In  opposition  to  this  evil,  God  hath 
given  this  to  be  one  of  his  ten  precepts,  Thou 
shah  not  kill. 

Having  given  a  rule  touehine  the  particu- 
lar lelations  of  men,  the  following  command- 
mi?nts  of  the  second  table  concf  n  the  gen- 
eral duties  of  all  men,  one  to  ano.aer;  and 
this  sixth  regardeth  his  being  or  life. 

Not  kill.]  This  ties  not  up  the  sword  of 
justice,  which  is  in  the  magistrate's  hand, 
from  punishing  offenders,  even  with  death 
those  that  deserve  it  ;  but  rather  calls  for  the 
use  of  it  not  he.ing  to  he  carried  in  vain,  as 
the  apostle  says,  Rom.  xiii.  4:  not  a  gilt 
sword  only  for  show,  but  to  be  drawn  and 
wielded  for  the  execution  of  justice:  both 
that  in  the  just  punishment  of  sin  [KdXairis], 
the  sinner  may  eat  of  the  fruit  of  his  own 
ways,  and  so,  God  the  Supreme  Judge  and 
Fountain  of  justice  may  be  honored  [Ti//<.jpi(i], 
and  that  by  that  example  [H.apafitiyjta],  others 
may  be  terrified  from  the  like  offences.  And 
thus,  just  killing  by  the  sword  of  the  magis- 
trate is  a  m;iin  means  of  the  observing  of  this 
commandment  among  men.  Thou  shall  not 
kill. 

By  the  like  reason  is  just  war  likewise  freed 
from  the  breacK  of  this  commandment.  But, 

Tlie  scope  of  the  precept  being  the  preser- 
vation and  safety  of  the  life  of  man,  and 
guarding  it  from  violence,  it  is  evident  that 
»11  injury  to  our  neighbor's  life,  our  own  not 
excluded,  is  fnrhuldnn  ;  and  not  only  the  hei- 
nous fa  jlt  of  murder,  which  human  laws  do 
punish,  but  all  the  ^eds  and  beginnings  of 
th  is  sin  in  the  heart,  to  which  principally,  as 
<he  fountain  of  our  actions,  tlie  spiritual  law 
of  God  is  given  :  us  the  authentic  interpreta- 
tion of  our  Savior  teacheth.  Matt,  v.,  and  par- 
ticularly touching  this  commandment,  verse 
21,  &c. 

1.  All  fixed  hatred  of  our  brethren  is  for- 
bidden, as  the  highest  degree  of  heart-mur- 
der. TliDii  shall  nut  hate  thy  brother  in  thy 
hear'.  Levit.  xix.  17.  And,  Whosoei^er  hn- 
leth  his  brother  is  a  murderer.  1  John  iii.  15  ; 
and  he  adds,  Ye  know  that  no  murderer  hath 
life  I'terniil  a/ndms^  in  hnn.  So  then,  he  is  in 
a  woful  deadly  condition,  in  whose  heart  this 
natred  dwells.  This  is  an  infernal  kind  of 
fire,  like  your  fires  uikIit  grou.  \  iliat  can  not 
80 


be  quenched.  So  far  is  it  from  the  temper  of 
any  truly  spiritual  and  heavenly  mind,  to  be 
subject  to  it,  that  there  is  not  anything  more 
contrary  to  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  the  work 
of  his  grace,  than  the  spirit  of  malice.  And 
although  it  never  break  forth  to  revenge,  yet, 
if  the  heart  rejoice  when  evil  befalls  those  it 
dislikes,  although  it  come  from  another  hand, 

j  God  accounts  it  as  if  he  who  is  glad  at  it,  had 
inflicted  it  and  been  the  worker  of  it.  There- 
fore Job  protests  thus,  that  he  rejoiced  not  at 
the  destruction  of  him  that  hated  hun,  nor  lift 
up  his  soul  when  evil  found  him.  Job.xxxi.29. 

2.  Rash  anger,  either  that  which  is  alto- 
gether without  just  cause,  or  which  upon 
some  just  cause,  arises  to  an  undue  measure. 

1  And  is  not  this  the  ordinary  disease  of  the 

j  greatest  part — an  habitual  bitterness  of  spirit, 
that  is  put  out  of  its  seat  and  troubled  with 
every  trifling  cause,  peevishly  stirred  up  with 

'•■  the  shadow  and  imagination  of  a  wrong, 

'  where  none  is  done  ? 

I  3.  The  vent  of  these  passions  of  envy  and 
j  hatred,  or  sudden  rash  anger,  by  railing,  and 
j  strife,  and  bitter  sjieakings,  by  scoffs  and 
'  taunts,  by  whisperings  and  detraction,  which 
are  the  common  exercise  of  base  and  unwor- 
thy spirits. 

!  This  commandment  requires  that,  to  the 
avoiding  and  forbearance  of  all  injury  to  the 
life  of  our  neighbor,  we  add  a  charitable  dis- 
position and  desire  of  preserving  it,  and  do 
accordingly  act  that  cliarity  to  our  utmost 
power,  to  the  good  and  comfort  of  his  life  ; 
using  towaid  him  meekness  and  patience, 
clemency  and  beneficence  ;  doing  him  good, 
supplying  his  wants,  as  we  are  able.  For  it 
is  cruelty  to  the  life  of  our  poor  brethren, 
to  be  straight-handed  toward  them  in  the 
I  day  of  their  necessity  and  our  abundance,  at 
least,  of  our  comparatively  better  estate. 
1  John  iii.  17. 

But  we  think  we  do  much  this  way,  when, 
U|)on  right  trial,  we  should  find  ourselves  ex- 
ceedingly defective.    We  look  u|)on  our  few 
and  petty  acts  of  charily  with  a  multiplying 
glass,  and  see  one  as  it  were  ten.    Who  al- 
most are  there,  that  will  draw  somewhat 
j  from  their  excesses,  to  turn  into  this  chan- 
!  nel  ?  that  will  abate  a  lace  from  their  gar- 
j  ment,  or  a  dish  from  their  table,  to  bestow 
upon  the  necessities  of  the  poor?   In  a  word, 
^  we  ought  not  only  to  be  free  from  hurting, 
but  be  a  tree  of  life  to  our  ncitihbor. 

Let  us  then  be  convinced  of  our  guiltiness 
in  the  breach  of  this  j)recept.  Men  think  it 
much  if  they  can  forgive,  upon  the  acknowl- 
edgment and  submission  of  those  who  have 
injured  them  ;  but  they  aspire  not  to  this,  cor- 
dially to  forgive  those  who  still  continue  to 
wrong  and  [jrovoke  them,  to  comitassionate 
them,  and  pray  for  them,  and  repay  all  their 
evil  with  meekness  and  good-will.  We  con- 
sider not  how  sublime  the  rule  of  Christianity 
is,  and  how  low  our  sjiirits  are,  and  how  far 
off  from  it.  Be  not  overcome  of  evil,  says  the 
apostle,  but  overcome  evil  with  gooi.  Rom. 


634 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


xii.  21.  It  IS  easy  to  overcome  a  man  who 
resists  not,  bu  yields  ;  to  pardon  injury  when 
it  ceasfth,  ami  entreats  jiardon  ;  but  wlien  it 
liolds  out,  and  is  so  stout  as  still  to  fifjlil 
aijainst  ihat  ^-oodness  and  meekness  which  it 
meets  withal,  yet,  the  Christian  ought  to  per- 
sist in  these,  and  overcome  it  with  gtiod. 
A.nd  sec  our  Savior's  rule  to  them  who  will 
be  his  disciples,  against  hatred  and  wrath. 
Matt.  V.  44.  Labor  (or  humble  spirits.  Pride 
is  the  spring  of  malice  and  desire  of  revenge, 
and  of  rash  anger  and  contention.  This  makes 
men  easily  swell  against  anything  that  cros- 
ses them,  because  they  have  laid  down  this 
with  themselves,  that  they  deserve  to  be  ob- 
served and  respected,  and  not  crossed  at  all  ; 
and  when  they  find  it  otherwise,  it  kindles 
them  to  anger.  And  it  is  not  the  degree  of 
provocation,  but  the  different  temper  of  men's 
spirits,  makes  them  more  or  less  subject  to 
anger.  It  matters  not  how  great  the  fire  be, 
but  where  it  falls. 

Consider,  1.  That  these  turbulent  passions 
carry  their  punishment  along  with  them : 
they  rankle  and  fester  the  soul,  and  fill  it  full 
of  pain  and  disturbance.  Whereas  the  spirit 
of  meekness  makes  the  soul  of  a  Christian 
like  the  highest  region  of  the  air,  constantly 
calm  and  serene.  The  apostle  speaking  of 
this  commandment  of  love,  says,  that  the  com- 
mandments of  God  are  not  grievous  1  John 
V.  3.  Certainly,  there  is  such  a  true  pleasure 
in  meekness,  forgiving  of  injuries,  and  loving 
our  very  enemies,  that  did  men  know  it,  they 
would  choose  it  for  the  very  delight  and 

weetness  of  it,  though  there  were  no  com- 

iiand  to  enforce  it. 

2.  Consider,  particularly  against  rash  an- 
ger, how  weak  and  foolish  a  thing  it  is.  An- 
ger  restf'lh  in  the  bosom  of  fools,  saith  Solo- 
mon. Eccl.  vii.  9.  A  fool's  breast  is  the  ver) 
natural  place  of  anger,  where  it  dwells.  But, 
as  be  says  ~lsewhere,  A  man  of  understand- 
ing is  of  an  excellent  spirit.  Prov.  xvii.  9. 
The  word  is,  a  cool  spirit.  What  a  senseless 
mistake  is  it  for  men  to  think  it  strength  and 
greatness  of  spirit,  to  bear  nothing,  to  be  sen- 
sible of  every  touch,  and  to  stand  upon  their 
punctilios  !  Is  it  not  evident  weakness,  to  be 
able  to  suffer  nothing  ?  We  see  the  weak- 
est persons  most  subject  to  anger — women, 
children,  and  the  sick,  and  aged  persons;  old 
age  being  both  a  continued  sickness,  and  a 
childishness,  as  they  call  it,  and  as  the  dregs 
of  a  man's  life  turned  into  vinegar."  it  is  the 
Weakness  of  all  these  that  makes  them  fret- 
ful.* In  a  word,  it  is  the  glory  of  a  man  to 
pass  hy  a  transgression.  Every  one  can  be 
angry,  and  most  are  they  who  are  weakest  ; 
but  to  be  above  it,  and  have  it  under  c(jm- 
inand,  is  the  advantage  of  those  who  are  truly 
wise,  and  therefore,  worthy  or  our  study  to 
attain  it. 

3.  That  which  should  most  prevail  with 
Christians  to  study  love  and  meekness  of 
spirit,  and  a  propension  to  do  good  to  all,  is, 

•  Omne  infirmum  naiura  querulum 


the  conformity  that  is  in  this  tempei  to  ouf 
Head  and  Redeemer,  Jesus  Christ — to  par- 
take of  his  dove-like  Spirit.  Learn  of  me, 
says  he,  for  I  am  meek  and  lou  ly  in  heart. 
The  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  love.  Gal.  v.  22. 
And  this  he  hath  given  as  the  commission 
and  badge  of  his  disciples,  that,  as  he  loved 
them,  so  they  love  one  another.  Johaxiii.  35. 

PRECEPT  VII. 

Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery. 

As  the  perverseness  of  nature  haih  found 
out  crooked  ways,  and  sinful  abuses  of  things 
that  we  enjoy  and  use,  the  holy  law  of  God 
aims  at  the  rectifying  of  these  abuses,  and 
the  bounding  and  limiting  of  our  ways  by  a 
strait  rule. 

And  this  precept  particularly  debars  us 
from  all  sinful  uncleanliness,  under  the  name 
of  one  kind  of  it  ;  that,  answerably  to  our 
condition  or  estate  of  it,  whatsoever  it  is, 
single  or  married,  we  ought  to  endeavor  that 
cleanness  and  purity  of  soul  and  body,  that 
become  the  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

I  purpose  not  to  reckon  up  jvarticularly  the 
several  sorts  and  degrees  of  sin  of  this  kind  ; 
for  chastity  is  a  delicate,  tender  giace,  and 
can  scarcely  endure  the  much  naming  of  it- 
self, far  less  of  those  things  that  are  so  con- 
trary to  it.  Though  in  the  law  of  God,  given 

I  to  the  people  of  the  Jews,  there  is  express 
mention  of  the  gross  abominations  of  this 
kind,  because  practised  by  the  Gentiles,  and 
to  be  forbidden  them  ;  and  though  the  apos 
tie  writing  to  the  Gentiles  newly  convened 
from  those  abominations,  of  necessity  men- 
tions particulars  of  them  ;  yet,  further  than 
that  necessity  of  reproving  them  where  they 

i  are  in  custom  requires,  lie  hates  the  very 
naming  of  them.  Eph.  v.  3-12.  As  the  old 
Roman  satirists,  while  they  seem  to  reprove 
vice,  rather  teach  it  by  their  impudent  de- 
scriptions of  it :  the  new  Roman  casuists, 
some  of  them,  are  as  foul  that  way. 

It  may  suffice  to  regulate  us  in  this,  if  we 
believe  this  truth,  that  whatsoever  is  in  this 
kind,  besides  the  lawful  use  of  marriage,  ie  a 
breach  of  this  holy  law  of  God,  whether  it 
be  in  action  or  in  words,  or  so  much  as  in 
thought.  And  if  this  be  true — as  it  is,  if  we 
believe  truth  itself,  our  Savior's  interpreta- 
tion— that  an  unchaste  look,  or  thought, 
makes  a  man  guilty,  then,  surely,  whatsoev- 
er is  beyond  these  is  more  grossly  sinful. 

What  a  shameful  thing  it  is  that  (jur  holy 
profession  of  religion  should  be  so  dishonored 
by  the  abounding  of  uncleaiiiiess  among  us! 
In  many,  it  breaks  forth  scandalously  ;  and 
if  there  be  any  who  live  in  that  way  of  wick- 
edness undiscovered,  and  walk  secretly  in  it, 
yet,  the  pure  Lord  who  perfectly  sees  and 
hates  it,  will  call  them  to  account,  and  judge 
them,  according  to  the  apostle's  word,  Heb. 
xiii.  4.  Consider  this  likewise,  any  of  you 
who  have  not  lamented  your  former  impure 
conversation  but  being  reformed  outwardly. 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


635 


Dy  your  years  or  condition  of  life,  yet  never 
have  inwardly  repented,  and  been  deeply 
humbled  for  the  sins  of  your  youth.  True 
conversion  is  not  so  light  a  worli.  David  re- 
members his  former  sins,  and  prays  earnestly 
that  God  would  not  remember  them  against 
lim.  Psalm  xxv.  7.  And  on  the  contrary, 
you  who  think  not  on  them,  may  justly  fear 
that  God  will  remember  them,  because  you 
yourselves  have  forgot  them. 

They  who  give  their  tongues  the  liberty 
of  scurrilous  jesting  and  impure  speeches  can 
not  but  have  filthy  hearts :  their  noisome 
breath  aigues  rottenness  within. 

Yea,  they  who  proceed  no  further  in  un- 
cleanness  than* to  entertain  and  lodge  the 
fancies  or  thoughts  of  it,  rolling  them  on 
their  beds,  and  delighting  in  them,  even  such 
are  exceedingly  guilty  and  abominable  in  the 
sight  of  God,  who  doth  not  only  see  into  the 
heart,  but  most  of  all  eyes  and  regards  it. 
Keep  Ihy  heurl  with  all  diligence,  says  Solo- 
mon, for  f mm  thence  are  the  issues  of  life. 
Prov,  iv.  23.  Certainly,  they  who  can  dis- 
pense with  themselves  in  these  inward  lieart- 
uncieannesses  and  find  no  remorse,  can  not 
think  the  Spirit  of  God  dwells  within  them  : 
for,  if  he  were  there,  he  would  be  showing 
his  discontent  and  anger  against  that  unholi- 
ness  which  is  so  contrary  to  liim. 

And  this,  they  who  have  any  truth  of 
grace  will  find,  that  if  they  be  not  either 
free  from  the  assaults,  or  at  least,  if  those 
filthy  birds,  such  impure  thoughts,  be  not 
perfectly  lieaten  away  when  they  light  on 
the  soul,  if  they  stay  but  any  time  with 
them,  rilili(High  they  afterward  docha^'c  them 
out  with  indignatiun,  yet  they  du  leave  such  a 
stain  as  grieves  and  saddens  the  Holy  Spirit 
in  them,  and  for  a  time  ihey  find  it  not  act  in 
prayer,  and  in  spiritual  comfort,  so  cheerfully 
as  before.  Let  no  corrupt  (or  rotten)  commu- 
nication proceed  onl  of  your  mouth,  says  the 
apostle,  and  grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit.'  Eph. 
iv.  29.  Rotten  speech  grieves  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit, and  so  do  such  thoughts  too,  which  are 
man's  speech  with  himself,  and  therefore 
being  most  familiar  and  frequent  with  him, 
ought  to  be  most  regarded  and  watched  over. 
There  is  not  anything  will  tnore  readily  dry 
up  the  sweetness  and  spiritual  moisture  of 
the  soul,  and  cause  the  graces  in  it  to  wither, 
than  the  impure  fire  of  lust.  Therefore,  you 
who  have  any  beginnings  of  grace,  and 
Would  have  it  flourish,  beware  of  this,  and 
quench  it  in  its  first  sparkles  ;  if  you  do  not, 
It  may  in  a  little  time,  rise  above  your  pow- 
er, and  still  prove  very  dangerous. 

If  you  would  be  freed  from  the  danger  and 
imp'jrtuniiy  of  this  evil,  make  use  of  these 
usual  and  very  useful  rules.  [].]  Be  sober 
and  temperate  in  diet :  withdraw  fuel.  [2  ]  Be 
modest  and  circumspect  in  your  carriage. 
Guard  your  ears  and  eyes,  and  waicli  over  all 
your  deportmi'nt.  Beware  of  undue  and  dan- 
gerous familiarities  wiih  any,  upon  what  pre- 
tence soever.  [3.]  Be  choice  in  your  society, 


for  there  is  much  in  that.  [4.]  In  general, 
flee  all  occasions  and  incentives  to  unclean- 
ness.  But  truly,  the  solid  cure  must  begm 
within  :  otherwise,  all  these  outward  reme- 
dies will  prove  but  e/wpinc  medicines,  as  they 
call  them. 

1.  First,  then,  lean  not  upon  moral  resolves 
and  particular  purposes  against  uncleanness, 
,  but  seek  a  total,  entire  change  of  the  heart, 
and  to  find  the  sanctifying  Spirit  of  grace 
dwelling  within  you. 

j  2.  Labor  to  have  the  heart  possessed  with 
a  deep  apprehension  of  the  holiness  and  puri- 
ty of  God,  and  then  of  his  presence  and  eye 
upon  all  thy  actions,  yea,  thy  most  secret 

I  thoughts.  His  eye  is  more  piercing  than 
that  any  wickedness  can  be  hid  from  him, 
and  more  pure  than  to  behold  it  without  in- 
dignation. The  darkness  is  as  noon-day  to 
him.  I  can  not  steal  a  thought  oul  of  his 
sight,  though  it  be  never  so  sudden  and  short. 
Then  think.  If  I  pretend  to  communion  and 
converse  with  my  God,  he  is  all  holiness, 
therefore  uncleanness  can  never  attain  that 
to  which  I  aspire.  What  communion  hath 
liirht  with  darkness,  or  Christ  irith  Belial  ? 
And  shall  1  lose  or  hazard  the  sweetness  of 
his  presence  for  so  base  a  delight  ?  How  can 
I  offer  that  heart  to  him  in  prayer,  which 
hath  been  wallowing  in  the  mire  of  unclean 
practice  or  imagination?  Resolve  to  drive 
out  the  assaults  which  you  are  incident  to  : 
How   shall  I  do,  or  think  thus?    My  holy 

{  God  is  looking  on  me.    This  was  Joseph's 

'  preservation.  Shall  I  do  this  evil,  and  sin 
against  God  ? 

3.  Acquaint  yourselves  with  spiritual  de- 
lights, and  this  will  make  a  hnp[)y  diversion 
from  those  which  are  sensual  and  earthly. 
Somewhat  a  man  must  have  to  delight  in. 
It  is  the  philosopher's  remark,  that  thev  who 
know  noi  the  true  pleasure  of  the  mind,  turn 
to  the  base  pleasures  of  the  body. 

Some  moral  men,  seeking  the  higher  de- 
light of  the  mind,  in  their  way  have  persuad- 
ed themselves  to  a  generous  disdain  of  their 
bodies.  How  much  more  powerfully  may 
supernatural  delights  of  the  soul,  righteous- 
ness, and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holv  Ghost, 
wean  it  from  these  gross,  sensual  pleasures, 
which  the  beasts  have  in  common  with  us; 
at  least  from  the  immoderate  desire  and  all 
unlawful  pursuit  of  them!  Nothing  indigni- 
fies  the  soul  more  than  lust.  When  David 
had  sinned  this  way,  it  had  so  made  havoc 
of  grace  within  him,  that  he  crif^s  not  only 
for  cleansing,  but  for  a  new  creation,  as  if  all 
were  undone  ;  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart. 
He  found  it  so  slavish  and  ignoble  a  sin,  that 
he  prays  to  be  re-established  by  (iod  with  a 
free  (or  noble)  spirit.    Psalm  li.  10,  12. 

4.  Increase  in  the  love  of  Christ.  For,  as 
that  grows,  there  is  a  decrease  of  the  love  of 
sin,  yea,  of  the  immoderate  love  of  all  inferior 
things  ;  as  ihe  sun-tieams  eat  out  the  fire,  this 
Divine  and  heavenly  love  consumes  the  other. 
All  our  love  is  too  scarce  or  poor  for  him. 


636 


EXPOSITI0]N  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


when  it  is  collcclt'd  and  drawn  altofjether  to 
run  only  toward  liini  ;  and  tlu'rcfbre  there  is 
none  to  spare  upon  ihe  flesh  and  tlie  lusts  of 
it,  nor  u])on  any  creature,  but  as  he  allows 
and  appoints.  The  sense  of  his  love  takes  up 
the  whole  soul,  and  he  lodginaf  in  it,  is  that 
true  <ii;>ius  ciisius  thai  makes  it  chaste — that 
bundle  of  myrrh  that  hath  a  virtue  to  preserve 
the  Christian  from  the  corruptions  of  lust. 

That  love  of  Jesus  Christ  is  strong  as  death, 
kills  all  opposite  affeciions  ;  and  indeed,  it 
alone  is  worthy  of  the  soul,  the  noble,  immor- 
tal soul.  Oh,  how  is  it  abased,  when  it  is 
drawn  down  to  sensuality,  and  so  made  a 
slave  to  its  servant,  the  flesh  !  Major  sum, 
el  ad  majora  genilus,  could  a  Roman  philo- 
ospher  say,  quam  ul  sim  mancipium  mci  cor- 
poris: lam  greater,  and  horn  to  greater  things, 
than  to  he  a  slave  to  my  body.  How  unworthy 
is  it,  that  beinsi  capable  of  the  highest  good, 
the  fruition  of  (Sod,  we  should  forget  ourselves 
so  far  as  to  serve  vile  lust,  and  forfeit  the  hap- 
piness and  pleasures  of  eternity.  Far  be  it 
from  us.  Liod  halh  called  vs  to  holiness,  and 
not  to  unclean/iess,  says  the  apostle.  1  Thess. 
iv.  7. 

Flee  all  unlawful  and  forbidden  delights. 
And  those  that  are  lawful,  do  not  engage  your 
hearts  to  them,  love  them  not  immoderately  ; 
and  they  can  scarcely  be  loved  without  excess, 
if  loved  at  all.  Shall  I  say  then.  If  you  use 
them,  yet  love  them  not,  reserve  that  for  purer 
enjoyments  ?  Says  not  the  apostle  this  ?  1 
Cor.  vii.  30.  Let  them  that  rejoice,  he  as  if 
they  rejoiced  not  ;  and,  particularly,  they  (hat 
marry,  as  >f  iht'i/  marrif  d  not.  And  his  reason 
is  weighty  :  For  the  fashion  of  this  ivorld 
passeth  airay. 

Remember  to  what  a  pure  and  excellent 
condition  we  are  called  as  Christians,  and 
with  what  a  price  we  are  bought  to  be  holy  ; 
and  let  it  be  our  firm  purpose  and  study  to 
glorify  God  in  our  souls  and  bodies,  for  thef 
are  his. 

PRECEPT  Vni. 

Thou  shall  not  steal. 

God  is  the  God  of  order,  and  not  of  confu- 
sion :  it  is  he  that  hath  authorized  and  ap- 
pointed peculiarity  of  possessions  unto  men, 
and  withal,  that  society  and  commerce  among 
them  which  serves  for  their  mutual  good. 
And  property  reserved  makes  one  man,  in 
what  he  possesses,  useful  and  helpful  to  an- 
other. And  he  hath  given  this  preceptof  his 
law,  to  regulate  them  in  these  things,  to  be 
the  rule  of  that  which  we  call  contentalion  or 
Justice,  equity  toward  our  neighbor,  in  the 
matter  of  his  goods  or  proper  possessions. 

This,  then,  being  the  scope  of  the  com- 
mandment, whatsoever  breaks  this  hedge,  is, 
as  comprehended  under  the  name  of  theft, 
here  forbidden  : — all  manner  of  injustice  and 
wrong  done  to  our  neighbor  in  his  estate, 
whether  by  violence  or  by  sleight  of  hand,  by 
force  or  fraud,  vea,  if  it  be  but  so  much  as  in 


affection  or  desire  ;  for  (as  we  have  oAen  said^ 
the  law  is  spiritual,  and  binds  not  only  the 
hands,  but  the  heart.  So,  then,  not  only  gross 
robberies  and  thefts  are  here  forbidden,  but  all 
oppression  and  extortion  in  superiors,  all  pur- 
loining and  unfaithfulness  in  inferiors  :  loo 
strict  exaction  in  masters,  and  slothfiilness  in 
servants,  or  whatsoever  else  may  tend  to  their 
master's  damage  :  all  bribery  and  receiving 
of  gifts,  to  the  perverting  of  justice  ;  all  deceit 
and  over-reaching  in  commerce,  or  trading, 
or  bargaining  ;  taking  advantage  in  buying 
or  selling,  or  any  contract,  upon  the  ignorance 
or  simplicity  oi  those  we  deal  withal  ;  all 
desire  and  seeking  of  our  neighbor's  loss  to 
our  gain  :  all  the  degrees  of  sacrilege  and 
simony  :  all  idleness  and  neglect  in  men's 
particular  callings,  by  which  they  either  im- 
poverish themselves,  and  are  u'orse  than  in- 
fidels,not  providing  for  their  families  (1  Tim. 
V.  8),  or,  if  they  nave  certain  provision  by 
their  callings,  in  neglecting  the  duties  of 
them,  they  wrong  those  from  whom,  or  for 
whose  sakes  they  are  so  provided,  as  magis- 
trates and  ministers,  who  have,  or  should 
have,  honorable  maintenance  for  their  public 
service,  the  one  in  the  commonwealth,  the 
other  in  the  church.  As  it  is  a  great  sin  to 
curtail  or  detain  what  is  due  that  way,  so  it 
is  no  less  wickedness  in  them,  if  they  be  re- 
miss and  careless  of  those  duties  to  which 
they  are  obliged  for  the  public  good.  In  a 
word,  whosoever  can  digest  any  kind  of  undue 
gain  to  themselves,  or  do. any  prejudice  to 
their  neighbor  in  the  least,  are  guilty.  Yea, 
they  sin  against  this  precept,  who  do  not  with 
all  their  power  further  the  advantage  and 
good  of  their  neighbor  in  his  outward  con- 
dition; who  do  not  help  and  relieve  those 
they  see  in  want,  so  far  as  their  ability 
reaches. 

There  is  a  kind  of  right  that  the  poor  have 
to  supply  :  it  is  not  merely  arbitrary  to  you. 
Though  they  have  not  such  a  right  as  to  take 
it  at  their  own  hand,  or  to  seek  it  at  the 
houses  of  iiuman  justice,  yet,  they  have  such 
a  right  as  that  your  hand  ought  not  t^  detain 
it.  Withhold  not  good  from  ihem  to  whom  it 
is  due.  Prov.  iii.  27.  "Which  is  evidently 
meant  (and  interpreters  take  it  so)  of  all  kino 
of  doing  good,  even  that  of  charity  and  benefi- 
cence to  the  needy,  as  appears  by  the  follow 
ing  clause.  When  it  is  in  the  power  of  thine 
hand  to  do  it.  And  the  Septuagint  reads 
Ivwoittv  Tdv  ivhri.  It  is  due  ;  they  have  a 
right  to  it  :  though  not  such  as  they  can  im- 
plead for  before  men's  courts  or  judicatures, 
yet,  in  the  court  of  conscience,  and  in  the 
sight  of  God,  it  is  duly  theirs.  The  word  is 
from  him  wiio  is  Lord  of  it.  Esuricntmm 
panis  est  i/ui  apud  te  mucescit,  el  sitieniium 
potus  qui  apud  te  acescit.  [Ambrose.]  It 
is  the  bread  of  the  hungry  thai  moulds  by 
thee,  and  the  drink  of  the  thirsty  that  sours 
by  thee.  Although  thou  art  in  possession, 
hast  superfluity  by  thee,  what  he  wants  is  his 
by  right  ;  he  is  'ord  of  it ;  for  the  Lord  of  all 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


637 


batli  turned  over  liis  right  tf  thy  poor  broth-  I 
er.    The  Lord  himself  needs  it  not ;  thy  good-' 
ness.  can  not  reach  him.    He  hath  furnished 
thee  with  sucli  as  need  it,  and  may  be  his  re- 
ceivers, and  have  warrant  from  him  to  take 
it  up  in  his  stead.    And  be  sure  he  will  ac- 
knowledsfe  the  receipt  of  it :  thou  hast  his 
own  word  and  writ  for  it,  a  bill  of  exchange 
under  his  own  hand,  that  what  you  give  to 
the  poor,  be  put  upon  his  accounts.    He  that 
giceth  to  the  poor  lendelh  to  the  Lord,  and  ' 
he  will  re-pay  it.  Prov.  xix.  17.    And  again,  [ 
In  that  you  did  it  unto  one  of  these,  says  our  • 
Savior,  ye  did  it  unto  me.     Matt.  xxv.  40.  | 
It  is  the  surest  and  most  lasting  part  of  a 
man's  estate,  that  is  put  into  their  hand. 
Quas  dederis  solas  semper  hahebis  opes.  Thine 
alms  alone,  of  all  thy  wealth,  thou  shalt  possess 
for  ever.    Tf  God  be  solvendo,  if  he  be  a  suffi- 
cient debtor,  it  is  treasure  laid  up  in  heaven. 

So  then,  this  precept  requires  uprightness 
and  equity  in  all  our  dealings  ;  a  desire  to 
rijht  and  advantage  our  brethren  as  ourselves,  ^ 
willing  their  ^■\\\\  and  prosperity  as  our  o\vn  ; 
diligence  and  industry  in  our  callings,  and 
giving  to  all  (Jthers  their  due.  Though  men 
are  not  obliged  to  a  sottish  simplicity  :  but 
ought  to  endeavor  so  to  understand  their  af- 
fairs, that  they  may  avoid  circumvention  by 
othefs' craft ;  yet  a  prudent  sim|)licity  is  the 
right  stamp  of  a  Christian  mind,  to  be  single 
and  ingenuous,  and  ratjier  to  suffer  loss  from  ! 
others,  than  to  cause  them  any.  In  a  word,  , 
the  apostles'  rule  is  express  and  full  ;  1  Thess. 
iv.  6  :  That  no  man  over-reach  or  defraud  his 
brother  in  any  matter:  and  he  adds  a  very 
forcible  reason.  Because  the  Lord  is  the  aven- 
ger nf  all  such  ;  as  we  have  also  (says  he), 
forewarned  you  and  testified.  Men  are 
ready  to  find  out  poor  shifts  to  deceive  them- 
selves, when  they  have  some  way  deceived 
their  brother,  and  to  stop  the  rnouth  of  their 
own  conscience  with  some  quibble  and  some 
slight  excuse,  and  force  themselves  at  length 
to  believe  they  have  done  no  wrong.  There- 
fore, the  apostle,  to  fright  them  out  of  their 
shifts,  sets  before  them  an  exacter  judge,  who 
can  not  be  deceived  nor  mocked,  who  shall 
one  day  unveil  the  conscience,  and  blow  away 
these  v;iin  self-excuses  as  smoke  ;  and  that' 
just  Lord  will  punish  all  injustice:  He  is  the 
avenger  of  all  such. 

At  the  first  view,  a  man  would  think  the 
breach  of  this  commandment  concerns  but 
few  persons,  some  thieves  and  robbers,  and 
some  professed  deceivers,  or  if  you  add  some 
cozening  tradesmen  and  merchants  ;  but  the 
truth  is,  there  is  scarcely  any  one  of  the  com- 
mandments' so  universally  and  frequently 
broken,  and  whereof  the  breach  is  so  little 
observed,  and  therefore,  so  seldom  repented 
)f  by  the  greatest  part.  As  the  Apostle 
lames  says.  He  is  a  perfect  man  who  offends 
tot  in  his  words,  truly,  he  is  a  rare  man  who  i 
offends  not,  and  that  remarkably  (if  men 
would  remark  themselves),  against  this  com- 
mandment, Thou  shall  not  steal.  \ 


To  say  nothing  of  the  oppression  and  hard 
exactions  of  such  as  are  superiors  of  lands, 
grinding  the  faces  ol  the  poor,  and  squeezing 
them  till  the  blood  come,  and  so  putting  in 
the  same  blood  of  the  poor,  among  their  es- 
tates, which  many  times  proves  a  canker  to 
all  the  rest  ;  and  the  thievisimess  of  servants, 
and  of  the  poorer  sort,  making  no  con^^cience 
at  all  of  whatsoever  they  can  filch  from  their 
masters,  or  those  that  are  richer  than  they, 
counting  all  they  can  snatch  good  booty  and 
lawful  prize:  to  pass  by,  likewise,  the  par- 
ticular deceits  which  are  usual  in  several 
callings,  and  are  incorporate  with  them 
through  long  custom,  and  become  a  part  of 
the  mystery  of  those  callings,  and  therefore, 
men  dispense  with  themselves  in  them  as  the 
inseparable  sin  of  their  calling,  and  have  rc 
remorse  for  them  :  not  to  insist  on  these  and 
such  like,  consider,  how  frequently  this  meum 
et  teum,  mine  and  thine,  proves  the  apple  of 
strife  between  the  nearest  friends,  and  di- 
vides their  affections,  and  begets  debates 
among  them  :  parents  and  children,  and  breth- 
ren, &c.  .  And  certainly,  there  is  always 
some  unjust  desire  on  one  side  in  those  con- 
tentions, and  sometiiTies,  on  both  sides.  How 
few  are  there  who  have  hearts  so  weaned 
from  the  world,  as  in  all  things  to  prefer  the 
smallest  point  of  equity,  to  the  greatest  temp- 
tation of  gain! — who  in  their  affairs  and  all 
that  concerns  them,  are  universally  careful  to 
deal  with  an  even  hand  and  even  heart,  and 
to  keep  close  to  their  golden  rule,  drawn  in 
nature,  but  almost  lost  and  smothered  in  the 
rubbish  and  corruption  of  nature,  but  drawn 
anew  by  our  Savior's  hand,  not  only  in  his 
gospel,  but  in  the  hearts  of  his  real  followers. 
That  which  thou  woiildst  have  others  do  to  thee, 
do  thou  unto  them  : — who,  when  they  have 
anything  to  transact,  wherein  is  their  broth- 
er's interest,  as  well  as  their  own,  do  in 
their  thoughts  change  places  with  him,  set 
him  in  their  own  room,  and  themselves  in  his, 
and  deal  with  them  after  that  manner  ;  who 
think.  What  should  I  be  willing  to  have  done 
to  me,  were  I  he  ?  'i'hat  same  will  I  do  to 
him.  Were  I  in  that  poor  man's  condition 
who  begs  an  alms,  would  I  not  rather  have 
some  relief,  than  a  churlish,  or,  at  least,  an 
empty  answer  ?  Were  I  he  who  buys,  should 
I  not,  and  might  I  not  justly  and  reasonably, 
will  to  have  it  so,  that  no  more  be  exacted  of 
me  tlian  the  right  and  due  price?  Then,  so 
will  I  use  him.  How  few  are  there  that  walk, 
I  say,  by  this  rule  !  And  yet,  all  that  do  not 
thus,  are  breakers  of  this  commandment  in 
the  sight  of  God. 

How  few,  who  are  inviolable  observers  of 
equity,  and  are  truly  liberal  and  bountiful  an- 
swerably  to  their  power! — who  will  some- 
times on  purpose  bate  a  dish  from  their  table, 
or  a  lace  from  their  garment,  not  to  make 
their  stock  greater,  but  to  bestow  on  the  poor  : 
who  are  truly  desirous  of  the  ijood  and  pros- 
perity of  others,  and  further  it  all  ihey  can  ! 

It  is  to  be  like  God  ;  this  is  the  particular 


638 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


Matt.  V.  45,  wliercin  likeness  to  our  heavenly 
FailuT  is  |)ressecl.  And  this  is  meant  by 
Homo  homnii  Dcua.  Certainly,  were  we  ac- 
quainted with  it,  it  is  more  true  delight  to  be, 
not  only  just,  but  liberal,  than  to  possess 
much.  It  is  not  to  possess,  but  to  be  pos- 
sessed by  it,  to  have  heaps,  and  no  heart  nor 
power  to  use  them.  He  who  is  thus,  doth 
not  only  defraud  others,  hut  hinisell';  steals 
from  his  own  necessities,  to  sacrifice  to  his 
god,  his  chest  or  baff.  Qtaci/tad  omnihus  oh- 
itu/i/,  sihi  nesat.  When  a  man  hath  sucii  a 
sum,  and  though  he  haih  use  for  it,  dares  not 
break  it,  what  is  ii  better  than  if  it  were  still 
underground  in  the  mine  ?  It  is  no  more  at 
his  service  ;  yea,  so  much  the  worse  that  lie 
is  racked  between  plenty  and  want,  between 
having  and  not  having  it. 

But  the  covetous  and  the  prodigal  sin 
against  this  commandment:  the  covetous,  by 
unjust  ways  of  gaining,  and  the  unjust  ke*p- 
ing  of  what  he  lialh  gained,  keeping  it  up 
both  from  others  and  himself :  and  tlie  prodi- 
gal, by  profuseness,  making  foolish  wants  to 
himself,  which  drives  him  upon  unjust  ways 
of  supply,  Tttrpitcr  amittens  (juod  lurpii'is 
repnret,  as  Seneca  speaks.  Thus,  he  who  is 
prodigal,  must  be  covetous  too,  and  though 
men  think  not  so,  these  two  vices  which  seem 
so  opposite,  not  only  may,  but  do  often  dwell 
together,  and  covetousness  is  prodigality's 
purveyor,  being  fire  for  it  to  feed  it;  for  oth- 
erwise it  could  not  subsist,  but  would 'starve 
within  a  while.  Here,  then,  both  avarice 
?"'d  prodigality  are  condemned:  only  true 
eqiilty,  and  frugal  and  wise  liberality,  are 
obedience  to  it. 

The  main  causes  of  all  unjust  and  illiberal 
dealing,  are  these  two:  1.  Difiidence  or  dis- 
trust of  the  Divine  providence  and  goodness. 
And  2.  That  n^toi-^in  that  same  amor  scele- 
ratus  hahendi,  the  fond  desire  of  having 
much. 

1.  When  a  man  doth  not  fully  trust  God 
with  providing  for  him,  and  blessing  him  in 
just  and  lawful  ways,  but  apprehends  want 
unless  he  take  some  more  liberty  and  elbow- 
room,  this  makes  him  step  now  and  then  out 
of  the  way,  to  catch  at  undue  gain  by  fraud 
and  overreaching,  or  some  such  way.  But 
this  is  a  most  foolish  course.  This  is  to  break 
loose  out  of  God's  fatherly  hand,  and  so  to 
forego  all  tliat  we  can  look  for  from  him,  and 
to  lake  ways  of  our  own  ;  to  choose  rather  to 
go  a  shifting  for  ourselves  in  the  crooked  and 
accursed  ways  of  unrighteousness,  than  to  be 
at  his  [)roviding.  Labor,  therefore,  for  a  fixed 
belief  of  his  wisdom,  and  goodness,  and  all- 
sufficiency  :  and  tlien  the  greatest  straits  and 
wan'.s  will  not  drive  you  to  any  indirect  ways, 
wherein  you  run  from  him,  but  will  still 
draw  you  nearer  to  himself,  and  there  you 
will  slay  and  wait  upon  his  hand  till  he  sup- 
ply you. 

2.  Desire  of  having  much,  or  covetousness, 
whether  it  be  to  hoard  up  or  lavish  out.  Bui 
ihis  is  a  madness.    This  desire  of  having 


much,  is  never  cured  by  having  much  :  it  19 
IJoDAi/ii.i,  camna  /antes, — an  insatiable  dng- 
hunser. 

Thai  known  determination  of  the  moralist 
was  most  true,  that  "  To  be  truly  rich,  is  not 
to  have  much,  but  to  desire  little."  Labor, 
then,  not  to  desire  much  ;  or  rather,  desire 
much,  desire  to  have  the  Lord  for  your  por- 
tion. Non  est  ilind  dcsidcrinm,  Tiy~t<r!iin.  sed 
Travc^tu.  That  de.iire  is  not  a  i^rrasjnnir  at  much, 
hut  at  a'!.  And  if  you  indeed  desire  him,  you 
shall  have  him  ;  and  if  you  have  him.  you  can 
not  but  be  satisfied,  for  he  is  all.  To  him, 
therefore,  be  all  praise,  honor,  and  glory,  for 
ever.  Amen. 

PRECEPT  IX. 

Thoii  shalt  not  bear  false  witness  against  thy  neighbor 

The  Apostle  St.  James,  in  that  sharp  but 
most  true  censure  of  the  tongue,  might  well 
call  it  an  unrtily  evil.  There  arc  but  ten  pre- 
ce[Us  or  words  of  the  law  of  God,  and  you 
see,  two  of  them,  so  far  as  concerns  the  out- 
ward organ  and  vent  of  the  sins  there  forbid- 
den, are  bestowed  on  it,  tending,  if  not  only, 
yet  mainly,  to  keep  it  in  order  ;  one  in  the 
first  table,  and  this  other  in  the  second  ;  as 
being  ready  to  fly  out  both  against  God  and 
man,  if  not  thus  bridled. 

The  end  of  this  commandment  is,  to  guard 
the  good  name  of  men  from  injury,  as  the  for- 
mer doth  his  goods  ;  this  possession  being  no 
less,  yea,  much  more  precious  than  the  other  : 
and  because  the  great  robber  and  nmrderer 
of  a  good  name  is  the  mischievous,  detract- 
ing tongue,  acted  by  a  malignant  heart,  it  re- 
'quires  in  the  heart  a  charitable  tenderness  of 
the  good  name  of  our  brethren  ;  and  that  will 
certainly  prove  trutl>  and  charitable  speech  in 
the  tongue. 

Though  divines  here  usually  speak  of  ly- 
ing, in  the  general  notion  and  extent  of  it, 
and  not  amiss,  being  most  of  all  exercised  in 
\  the  kind  here  mentioned  :  yet,  there  be  such 
,  lies  as  may  be  more  fitly  reputed  a  breach  of 
j  some  other  commandment.    And  possibly  the 
sin  of  lying  in  general,  as  it  is  a  lie,  a  dis- 
crepancy of  the  speech  from  the  mind,  and  so 
a  subverting  of  the  Divine  ordinance  set  in 
nature,  making  that  which  he  hath  made  the 
interpreter  of  the  mind,  to  be  the  disguiser 
I  of  the  heart,  and  withal  disregarding  God  as 
i  the  searcher  of  the  heart,  and  sovereign  wit- 
ness of  truth,  and  avenger  of  falsehood  ;  I  say, 
thus,  it  may  possibly  be  more  [iroper  to  refer 
I  it  to  another  commandment,  particularly  to 
the  third.  But  il  imports  not  much  to  be  very 
punctual  in  this.    It  is  seldom  or  never  that 
one  commandment  is  broken  alone.  Most 
sins  are  C(jmplicate  disobedience,  and  in  some 
sins,  the  breach  of  many  at  once  is  very  ap- 
1  parent.    As  to  instance,  in  perjury,  if  it  be  to 
'  testify  a  falsehood  against  our  brelhicn,  both 
the  third  commandment  and  this  ninth  are  vio- 
lated at  once  ;  and  if  it  be  in  such  a  t\iing  as 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


039 


louchelh  bis  life,  the  sixth  likewise  suffers  ' 
with  theai. 

This  per  ury,  or  false  testimony  in  a  public 
judiciary  way,  is,  we  see,  by  the  express 
words  and  le:ter  of  the  command,  forbidden, 
as  the  highest  and  most  heinous  wrong  of 
this  kind,  lit  testis  falsi  aut  testimonium 
falsi  non  dices  aut  respondehis.  But,  under 
the  name  of  this  (as  it  is  in  the  other  com- 
mandments), all  the  other  kinds  and  degrees 
of  offence  against  our  neighbor's  good  name 
are  comprised. 

1.  All  private  ways  of  calumny  and  false 
imputation. 

2.  All  ungrounded  and  false  surmises  or 
suspicions  ;  all  unchariiable  construction  of 
others'  actions  and  carriage. 

3.  Strict  remarking  of  the  faults  of  others, 
without  any  calling  so  to  do,  or  honest  inten- 
tion of  their  good  ;  which  appears,  if,  having 
observed  anything  that  of  truth  is  reprovea- 
ble,  we  seek  not  to  reclaim  them  by  secret 
and  friendly  admonition,  but  passing  bv  them- 
selves, divulge  it  abroad  to  others.  Ephes.  iv. 
15.  We  must  not  only  speak  the  truth,  but, 
in  love.  For  this  is  a  most  foolish  self-de- 
ceit, to  think  that,  because  it  is  not  forged, 
but  true,  that  thou  speakest,  this  keeps  thee 
free  of  (he  commandment :  no,  thy  false  in- 
tention and  malice  make  it  calumny  and 
falsehood  m  thee,  although,  for  the  matter 
of  it,  what  thou  sayest  be  most  true.  All  tliou 
gainest  by  it,  is,  that  thou  dost  tumble  and 
bemire  thyself  in  the  sin  of  another,  and  ma- 
keth  it  possibly  more  thine  than  il  is  his  own 
who  committed  it  ;  for  he,  it  may  be,  hath 
some  touch  of  remorse  for  it,  whereas  it  is 
evident  thou  delightest  in  it ;  and  though  thou 
preface  it  with  a  whining,  feigned  regret  and 
semblance  of  pitying  him,  and  add  withal 
some  word  of  commending  him  in  somewhat 
else,  tiiis  is  but  the  gilding  and  sugaring  the 
pill  to  r.jake  men  swallow  it  the  more  easily, 
and  thy  bitter  malice  pass  unperceived.  Thev 
who  by  their  callmg  ought  to  watch  over  the 
lives  of  others,  must  do  it  faithfully  and  dili- 
gently, admonishing  and  rebuking  privately  ; 
and  where  that  prevails  not,  thev  mav,  yea, 
they  ous'ht  to  do  it  more  publicly  :  but  all  in 
love,  seeking  nothing  but  the  glory  of  God, 
and  tlie  salvation  of  souls. 

4.  Easy  hearing  and  entertaining  of  misre- 
ports  and  detractions  when  others  speak  ihem. 
Exod.  xxiii.  1.  This  is  that  which  maintains 
and  gives  subsistence  to  calumny  ;  otherwise 
it  would  starve  and  die  of  itself,  if  nobody 
took  it  in  and  gave  it  lodging.  When  malice 
pours  it  out,  if  our  ears  be  shut  against  it,  and 
there  be  no  vessel  to  receive  it,  it  would  fall 
«ike  water  upon  the  ground,  and  could  no 
more  be  gathered  up.  But  there  is  that  same 
busy  humor  tliat  rnen  have — it  is  very  busy, 
and  yet  the  most  have  of  it  more  or  less — a 
kind  of  delight,  and  contentment  to  hear  evil 
of  others,  unless  it  be  of  such  as  they  affect, 
to  h(!nr  others  slighted  and  disesteemed,  that 

hev  'eadily  drink  in,  not  without  some  pleas- 


ure, whatsoever  is  spoken  of  this  kind.  The 
ear  trielh  the  words,  as  Job  says,  as  the  movth 
tasteth  meats  ;  but  certainly  the  most  ears  are 
perverse  and  distempered  in  their  taste,  as 
some  kinds  of  palates  are;  they  can  find 
sweetness  in  sour  calumny.  But,  because 
men  understand  one  another's  diet  in  this, 
that  the  most  are  so,  this  is  the  very  thing 
that  keeps  up  the  trade,  makes  backbiting 
and  detractions  abound  so  in  the  world,  and 
verifies  that  known  observation  in  the  most, 
that  "  The  slanderer  ivounds  three  at  once" — 
himself,  him  he  speaks  of,  and  him  that  hears. 
For  this  third,  truly  it  is  in  his  option  to  be 
none  of  the  number:  if  he  will,  he  may  shift 
his  part  of  the  blow,  by  not  believing  the 
slander  :  yea,  may  beat  it  back  again  with 
ease  upon  the  slanderer  himself  by  a  check 
or  frown,  and  add  that  stroke  of  a  repulse  to 
the  wound  of  guiltiness  he  gives  himself. 

5.  They  offend,  who  seek  in  any  kind,  at 
the  expense  of  the  good  name  and  esteem  of 
others,  to  increase  their  own  ;  ex  alieni  nomi- 
nis  jactura  gradum  sihi  faciunt  ad  gloriam* 
— out  of  others'  ruins  to  make  up  themselves  ; 
and  who  therefore  pull  down  as  much  as  they 
can,  and  are  glad  to  have  others  to  help  them 
10  detract  from  the  repute  of  their  brethren, 
particularly  any  who  are  in  likelihood  to  sur- 
pass and  obscure  them  ;  and  for  this  reason 
incline  always  rather  to  hear  and  speak  of 
i  the  imperfections  and  dispraise  of  others,  than 
I  10  their  advantage ;  and  would  willingly, 
Oltomnn-lWe,  kill  the  good  name  of  their 
brethren,  that  theirs  may  reign  alone. t  This 
is  a  vile  disease,  and  such  as  can  not  be  inci- 
I  dent  to  any  mind  that  is  truly  virtuous  and 
gracious.  No,  such  need  not  this  bjj^e,  dis- 
honest way  to  raise  themselves,  but  are  glad 
to  see  virtue,  and  whatsoever  is  praisew(]rlhy, 
to  flourish  in  whomsoever.  These  are  lovers 
of  God  indeed,  and  of  his  glory,  and  not  their 
own  ;  and  therefore,  as  all  he  bestows  on 
themselves,  they  render  back  the  honor  of  it 
j  to  him,  so  they  are  glad  to  see  many  enriched 
with  his  best  irifts.  For  seeing  all  good  that 
all  have,  belongs  to  God,  as  the  sovereign 
'  owner  and  dispenser,  this  contents  and  re- 
joices his  children  when  they  see  many  l>ar- 
take  of  his  bounty,  for  the  more  is  his  glory  ; 
and  as  in  love  to  their  brethren,  they  are  al- 
v/ays  willing  to  take  notice  of  what  is  com- 
mendable in  them,  and  to  commend  it,  so, 
they  do  this  the  more  willingly,  because  they 
'  know  that  all  praise  of  goodness  at  last  ter- 
;  minates  and  ends  in  God.  As  Solomon  saya 
of  the  rivers.  Unto  the  place  whence  they  come, 
thither  they  return. 

j     6.  They  sin  against  this  commandment, 
j  who.allhough  they  noway  wrong  their  neigh- 
I  bors'  good  name,  yet  are  not  careful  to  do  their 
•  Rallust. 

!  t  T'P  Rabbins  frequontly  condemn  tliis. — Hammith 
Cabuf.d,  fitc.  Qui  honnrnt  se  fx  i^nnmirtin  sncii  lui, 
non  hnliet  jiarlern  in  nfrvln  ventvro.  Drrrs.  Rab. 
Hem,  qui  per  contejiiptum  ii/iorvm  Intidem  si/am  qwrit, 
jniserrimu.i  e.it  oiunium  limninum.  (jtiis  est  liunare  dig- 
niu .'    Qui  lionoral  alios  Iwmines. — Auoth.,  c.  4. 


S40 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


utmost  to  ri^ht  it  when  it  suffers,  to  remove  ] 
a.-persiotis  from  them,  and  to  clear  them  all  : 
thai  may  be.  For  this  is  here  required,  tode- 1 
sire  and  delight  iii,  and  further  the  good  j 
name  of  others,  even  as  our  own  :  to  look 
most  willin£rly  on  the  fairest  side  of  their  ac- ' 
lions,  and  take  them  in  the  best  sense,  and 
be  as  invenfive  of  favorable  constructions  (yet 
without  favoring  vice),  as  malice  is  witty  to 
misinierprei  to  the  Avorst  ;  to  observe  the 
conmiendable  virtues  of  our  brethren,  and 
pass  by  their  fiiilings;  as  many,  like  scurvy 
flies,  skip  over  what  is  sound  in  men,  and  I 
love  to  sii  upon  their  sores.  ! 

It  is  lamentable  to  consider  how  much  this 
€vil  ol' mutual  detraction  and  supplanting  the 
good  name  one  of  another,  is  rooted  in  man's 
corrupt  nature,  and  how  it  spreads  and  grows 
in  their  conversation  :  as  the  Apostle  St.  Paul 
cites  it  out  of  the  psalmist,  as  the  description  : 
of  our  nature.  Their  throat  ts  an  open  sejnil- 
chre ;  thei/  have  dpccilful  lonsues,  and  the 
poison  of  asps  is  under  their  lips.  Pom.  iii. 
13.    Their  tliroat  an  open  sepulchre,  full  of  j 
the  bones,  as  it  were,  of  others'  good  names  ' 
that  they  have  devoured  ;  and,  among  other 
their  endowments,  they  are  whisperers,  hack-  , 
oiters,  despiteful,  Rom.  i.  30.  But  it  is  strange 
that  Christians  should  retain  so  much  of  these 
evils,  who  profess  themselves  renewed,  and 
sanctified,  and  guided  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  I 
Consider,  in  your  visits  and  discourses,  if 
someiliingof  this  kind  doth  not  entertain  you 
often,  and  lavish  away  that  time  you  might ' 
spend  in  mutual  edilication,  abusing  it  to  de- 
scant upon  the  actions  and  life  of  others,  in 
such  a  way  as  neither  concerns  nor  profits 
us:  taking  an  impertinent,  foolish  delight  in 
iuquiring  and  knowing  how  this  party  lives, 
and  the  other.*    This  is  a  very  common  dis-  j 
ease,  as  Nazianzen  observes. t   And  thus  men  i 
are  most  strangers  at  home  :  have  not  leisure 
to  study,  and  know,  and  censure  themselves, 
they  are  so  busied  about  others.    It  may  be 
there  is  not  always  a  height  of  malice  in  their 
discourses,  but  yet.  by  much  babblins  to  no 
purpose,  they  slide  into  idle  detraction  and 
censure  of  others,  beside  their  intention  ;  for, 
in  multitude  of  words  there  wants  not  sin. 
Prov.  X.  9. 

And  the  greatest  part  are  so  accustomed  to 
this  way,  that,  if  they  be  put  out  of  it,  they 
must  sit  dumb  and  say  nothing.  There  is,  I 
confess,  a  prudent  observation  of  the  actions 
of  others,  a  reading  of  men,  as  they  call  it, 
and  it  may  be.  by  a  Christian,  done  with 
Christian  prudence  and  benefit :  and  there  may 
be,  too,  a  useful  way  of  men's  imparting  their 
observation  of  this  kind,  one  to  another,  con- 
cerning the  good  and  evil,  the  abilities  more 
or  less,  that  they  remark  in  the  world  :  but 
truly,  it  is  hard  to  find  such  as  can  do  this 

•  Curiomm  eenus  ad  cos^nnncendnm  vitam  alienam, 
daidioxum  ad  orrigendnm  suam. —  Auoustine.  Conf. 
1.  10.  cap.  3. 

t  'OvHv  0VT<a(  IjSv  TOti  ivBof-rrott  wj  rd  XaXeri"  ra 
tX\.TOia. — Xazianzen.     Orat.  1.  ' 


aright,  and  know  they  agree  in  their  purpose 
with  honest,  harmless  minds,  intending  evil 
to  none,  but  <.'ood  to  themselves,  and  admit- 
ting of  nothing  but  what  suits  wiih  this. 
Among  a  throng  of  acquaintance,  a  man 
shall,  it  may  be,  find  very  few  bv  whose  con- 
versation he  may  be  really  bettered,  and  who 
return  him  some  benefit  for  the  expense  of  his 
time  in  their  society.  Howsoever,  beware 
of  such  as  delight  in  vanity  and  lying  and 
defaming  of  others,  and  withdraw  yourselves 
from  them,  and  set  a  watch  before  your  own 
lips.  Learn  to  know  the  fit  season  of  silence 
and  speech  ;  for  that  is  a  very  great  point  of 
wisdom,  and  will  help  very  much  to  the  ob- 
serving of  this  precept,  to  give  your  tongue  to 
be  governed  by  wisdom  and  piety.  Let  i' 
not  be  as  a  thorny  bush,  pricking  and  hurting 
those  who  are  about  you,  nor  altogether  a 
barren  tree,  yielding  nothing  ;  hut  a  fruitful 
tree,  a  tree  of  life  to  your  neighbor,  as  Solo- 
mon calls  the  tongue  of  the  righteous.  Prov, 
XV.  4. 

And  let  your  hearts  be  possessed  of  those 
two  excellent  graces,  humility  and  charity. 
Then  will  your  tongue  not  be  in  danger  of 
hurting  your  neighbor  ;  for  it  is  pride  and 
self-love,  makes  men  delight  in  that.  Those 
are  the  idols  to  which  men  make  sacrifice  of 
the  good  name  and  reputation  of  others.  The 
humble  man  deligiits  in  self-disesteem,  and 
is  glad  to  see  his  brethren's  name  flourish  ;  it 
is  pleasing  music  to  him  lo  hear  the  virtues 
of  others  acknowledged  and  commended,  and 
a  harsh  discord  to  his  lowly  thoughts  to  heai 
any  thing  of  his  own.  And  the  other,  charity 
thinks  no  evil,  is  so  far  from  casting  false 
aspersions  on  any,  that  it  rather  casts  a  veil 
upon  true  failings  and  blemishes  :  Love  covers 
a  multitude  of  sins.  It  is  like  God's  love  that 
begets  it,  which  covers  all  the  sins  of  his  own 
children. 

PRECEPT  X. 

Thou  shall  not  covet  tlij'  neighbor's  house,  thou  shall 
not  covet  thy  neighbor's  wile,  nor  his  ni;in-servanl, 
nor  his  maid-servant,  nor  liis  ox,  nor  his  ass,  nor 
anything  that  is  ihy  neighbor's. 

It  is  a  known  truth,  that  there  is  no  souut* 
cure  of  diseases  without  a  removal  of  their 
inward  cause.  Therefore,  this  second  table 
of  the  law,  containing  the  rule  of  equity  for 
the  redress  of  unrighteousness  in  men's  deal- 
ing one  with  another,  doth,  in  this  last  pre- 
cept of  it,  strike  at  the  very  root  of  that  un- 
righteousness, the  corrupt  desires  and  evil 
concupiscence  of  the  heart ;  Thou  shall  not 
covet. 

The  Romish  division  of  this  into  two,  is  so 
grossly  absurd,  and  so  contrary  both  to  the 
voice  of  antiquity  and  reason,  that  it  needs  not 
stay  us  much  to  show  it  such.  The  thing 
forbidden  is  one,  Thou  shalt  not  covet  ;  and  if 
the  several  things  not  to  be  coveted,  divide 
it,  it  will  be  five  or  six  as  well  as  two.  Though 
it  be  Peter's  pretended  sword  make  ihe  divis- 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


641 


ion,  yet.  certaiuly,  it  is  not  Paul's  6p9»To/i£ri/, 
not  a  dividing  of  the  word  aright,  but  a  cut- 
ting it,  as  it  were,  beside  the  joint.  The 
truth  is,  they  would  never  have  mistook  so 
far  as  to  have  offered  at  tliis  division,  were 
they  not  driven  upon  it  by  an  evil  necessity 
of  their  own  making  :  because  they  have  quite 
cut  out  ti^e  second,  they  are  forced,  for  making 
cp  the  •lumber,  to  cut  this  in  two.  This  is 
but  to  salve  a  first  wrong  with  a  second  ;  it  is 
titium  v:  irrM  cuncoclionis  quod  non  corrigilur 
in  secunda,  as  they  speak  :  having  smothered 
one  comniaridmeiit,  they  would  have  this  di- 
vided, as  the  harlot  the  living  child. 

The  subject  of  this  commandment,  that 
which  it  forbids,  is  not,  I  confess,  original  sin 
in  its  nature  and  whole  latitude  ;  no,  nor  all 
kinds  of  sinful  motions  immediately  arising 
from  it  ;  but  such  as  concern  human  things, 
belonging  to  this  second  table  as  their  rule  : 
as  is  clear  in  all  ihe  particulars  named  in  the 
commandment,  and  the  general  word  which 
closes  it,  including  tlie  rest  and  all  other  things 
of  that  kind.  Nor  am/thing  that  is  thy  neigh- 
bor's. For  is  it  needful  (with  others)  for  the 
distinguishing  of  this  precept  from  the  rest, 
to  call  this  concupiscence  here  forbidden,  only 
the  first  risings  of  it  in  the  heart  without  con- 
sent, whereas  the  other  commandments  forbid 
the  consent  of  the  will.  I  conceive  there  is 
no  danger  to  say,  that  both  are  forbidden,  both 
in  this  and  in  the  rest,  but  in  this  more  ex- 
pressly. 

P'or  what  great  necessity  is  there  of  such 
subtile  distinguishing?  may  not  this  besufTi- 
cient,  that  wiiat  is  included  in  the  other  com- 
mandments duly  understood,  it  pleased  the 
Divine  wisdom  to  deliver  in  this  last  more 
expressly,  that  nonetniirht  pretend  ignorance  ; 
and  so  to  provide  for  the  more  exact  obser- 
vance of  justice  and  equity  among  men  in 
their  actions,  by  a  particular  law  given  to  the 
heart,  the  fountain  of  them,  regulating  it  in 
its  dispositions  and  motions,  even  the  very 
first  stirrings  of  it,  which  do  most  discover  its 
disposition  ? 

And  that  this  is  no  tautology,  nor  a  super- 
fluous ki)or,  unsuiting  the  exquisite  brevity 
of  this  law,  we  shall  easily  confess,  if  we  con- 
sider that  natural  hypocrisy  and  self-indul- 
gence that  is  in  men,  which  makes  them  still 
less  regard  the  temper  and  actings  of  their 
hearts,  than  their  outward  carriage,  notwith- 
standing this  express  commandment  concern- 
ing it.  How  much  more  would  they  have 
thought  iheirthoughts.asleastsuch  as  proceed 
not  to  full  consent,  exempted  from  'he  law,  if 
there  had  been  nothing  spoken  of  them,  hut 
they  only  included  in  the  other  precepts  !  We 
know  how  the  Doctors  of  Rome  extenuate  the 
matter,  and  how  favorable  their  opinion  is  in 
this  point,  notwithstanding  this  clear  voice 
of  the  law  of  God  condemning  all  concupis- 
cence. The  apostle  St.  Paul  confesses  in- 
genuously his  o«  i  short-sightedness,  though 
a  Pharisee  instructed  in  the  law,  that  unless 
the  law  had  said,  Thou  shall  not  lust,  he  had  | 


not  found  it  out  in  the  other  commandments, 
nor  known  the  sinfulness  of  it.   Rom.  vii.  7. 

Thisall-wiseLawgiverknew  both  the  blind- 
ness of  man's  mind,  and  the  hypocrisy  and 
deceitfulness  of  his  heart,  and  therefore,  takes 
away  all  pretext,  and  turns  him  out  of  all  ex- 
cuse, giving  this  last  commandment  express- 
ly concerning  the  heart,  and  so  teaching  him 
the  exact  and  spiritual  nature  of  all  the  rest. 

This  commandment  pursues  the  iniquity  of 
man  into  its  beginning  and  source.  Our  Savior 
calls  the  evil  heart,  ari  evil  treasure  ;  it  is  an 
inexhaustible  treasure  of  evil,  yea,  it  dimia. 
isheth  not  at  all,  but  increaseth  rather  by 
spending;  the  acting  of  sin  confirming  and 
augmenting  the  corrupt  habit  of  it  in  the  heart. 
Out  of  this  evil  treasure  issue  forth  those 
pollutions  that  defile  the  ivhole  man — evil 
thoughts,  murders,  adulteries,  &c.  Matthew 
XV.  ly. 

It  is  not  proper  here  to  speak  at  large  of 
the  first  motions  of  sin  in  general,  and  of  the 
way  to  distinguish  (if  any  such  can  be  given 
as  certain)  the  injectiousof  Satan,  evil  thoughts 
darted  in  by  him,  and  such  as  spring  immedi- 
ately from  that  corruption  which  lodgeth 
within  our  own  breasts ;  and  other  things 
tliat  concern  the  subject :  only,  this  we  ought 
to  observe  as  pertinent  and  useful,  that  if  we 
did  Consider  the  purity  (jf  the  law  of  God  and 
the  impurity  of  our  own  hearts,  the  continual 
risings  of  sinful  concupiscences  within  us,  that 
stain  us  and  all  our  actions,  this  would  lay  us 
a  great  deal  lower  in  our  own  opinion  than 
usually  we  are.  The  law  is  spiritual,  hut  1 
am  carnal,  sold  under  sin,  says  the  apostle. 
Rom.  vii.  14. 

Men  think  it  is  well  with  them,  and  they 
please  themselves  to  think  so,  and  glory  in  it, 
that  their  whole  life  has  been  outwardly  un- 
blameable,  and,  possibly,  free  from  the  secret 
commission  of  gross  sins.  But  would  they, 
who  are  thus  most  spotless,  look  a  little  deeper 
inward  upon  the  incessant  workings  of  vain, 
sinful  thoughts,  which,  at  least  touch  upon 
the  affection,  and  stir  it  somewhat  ;  and  con- 
sider their  hearts  naturally  like  boiling  pots, 
still  sending  up  of  this  scum  of  evil  concupis- 
cence, and,  as  a  fountain  castetli  forth  her 
water,  as  Jeremiah  speaks,  this  bitter  poison- 
spring  still  streaming  forth,  and  even  in  the 
best,  not  fully  dried  up  :*  certainly  the  due 
sight  of  these  would  abate  much  oi  those  gay 
thoughts  which  any  can  have  of  themselves, 
and,  from  the  best  and  most  sensible,  would 
draw  out  the  apostle's  word,  O  wretched  man 
that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  ?  There  is 
nothing  that  doth  more  certainly  both  humble 
and  grieve  the  godly  man,  than  the  sense  of 
this  ;  and  because  till  then,  it  will  not  cease 

•  Tres  sunt  transgressionpfi,  i  quihu.i  homo  niillo  die, 
inquiunt  Talmvdici,  nunquma  in  liac  vila  lilx-raliilw 
coi^itatvmcH  peccati;  attentio  oralinnis  (i.  c,  quod  nun- 
qunm  sntit  nitrnth  per  omnem  attentioneni  orare  po.isit)  ; 
pt  lingua  main.  [Bava.  lioscA.  f.  1312.]  'I'licrc  are 
tliroc  transgressions,  say  the  'I'alinudists,  from  wliich 
;i  man  can  no  day  ever  in  tliis  life  be  free  :  tlie  tlioughts 
of  sin,  wanderings  in  prayer,  and  an  evil  tongue. 


042 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 


to  vi'x  him,  nothin<;  makes  liiiii  more  Ions:  for 
the  day  of  liis  full  ilclivcraiice,  and  makes  liim 
cry,  U.f(/nc</iio,  Doininc,  usquequo  ?  O,  how 
/o«i,'-,  0  Lord,  /low  long? 

We  are  taught  by  tliis  commandment,  tliat 
great  point  of  spiriuial  ])rudence,  to  observe 
the  beginnings  and  conce|)tion  of  sin  witiiin 
us,  and  to  crush  it  then  when  it  is  weakest, 
before  it  pass  on  in  its  usual  gradation,  as  the 
Apostle  St.  James  makes  it,  James  i.  14,  15. 
If  it  drau'  us  away  but  to  hear  it,  it  will  entice 
us,  take  us  with  delight  ;  and  then  it  will,  by 
that,  work  us  to  consent,  and  having  so  con- 
ceived, it  will  bring  forth  sin,  and  sin  finished 
will  bring  forth  death. 

Again,  because,  as  we  see,  the  very  con- 
cupiscence itself,  though  it  proceed  no  further, 
pollutes  and  leaves  a  stain  behind  it  ;  this 
calls  lor  our  diligence,  to  seek  that  renovation 
and  habitual  jiurity  of  heart  infused  from 
above,  and  the  daily  increase  of  it,  being  be- 
gun, that  may  free  us  more  and  more  from 
that  depraved  concupiscence  and  the  defile- 
ments of  it.  Think  it  not  enough  to  cleanse 
the  tongue  and  the  hands,  but  above  all,  en- 
deavor for  cleaness  of  heart,  and  that  will 
keep  all  the  rest  clean.  See  Jam.  iv.  8.  Jere- 
miah iv.  14. 

The  concupiscence  particularly  here  forbid- 
den, we  see,  is  an  inordinate  desire,  or  the 
least  begiiming  of  such  a  desire,  of  those  out- 
ward things  which  belong  not  to  us.  Thy 
neighbor's  house,  &c.  For  all  breach  of  the 
other  commandments  of  this  second  table, 
have  their  rise  and  beginning  from  such  a 
desire  ;  therefore,  this  is  set  last,  as  the  hedge 
to  guard  all  the  rest  from  violation.  For  cer- 
tainly, he  that  flees  the  least  motion  of  a 
wrongful  thought,  will  never  proceed  to  any 
injurious  word  or  action.  So  then,  this  com- 
mandment is  broken  by  the  least  envious  look 
upon  any  good  of  others,  or  the  least  bendings 
of  mind  after  it  for  ourselves;  and  by  that 
conimon  mischief  of  self-love,  as  the  very 
thing  which  gives  life  to  all  such  undue  de- 
sires^; and  by  that  common  folly  of  discontent 
at  our  own  estate,  which  begets  a  wishing  for 
that  of  others;  and  this,  though  it  be  not 

1'oined  with  an  express  desire  of  their  loss  or 
lurt,  yet,  because  it  is  the  seed  and  principle 
of  injustice,  therefore  it  is  sinful,  and  here 
forbidden. 

And,  on  the  contrary,  much  of  the  obser- 
vance of  this  precept  lies  in  that  hiV.Vmcih,  that 
contentedness  and  saiisfaction  of  mind  with 
our  own  estate,  which  will  surely  keep  us 
free  from  this  disordered  coveting.  There- 
fore, chiefly  labor  to  have  that  wise  and  sweet 
contentation  dwelling  within  you,  and  banish 
all  contrary  thoughts,  by  these  and  other  sucii 
like  considerations : — 

1.  If  you  do  indeed  believe  that  it  is  the 
sovereign  hand  of  (lod  that  divides  to  the  na- 
tions their  inheritance,  as  Moses  speaks,  Deut 
xxxii.  8,  and  so,  likewise,  to  particular  men, 
that  he  carves  to  every  one  their  condition 
and  place  in  the  world,  you  can  not  but  think 


he  hath  done  it  more  wisely  than  men  could 
do  lor  themselves.  They  could  never  agree 
upon  it :  every  man  would  think  it  best  for 
himself  to  be  in  the  best  and  highest  condi- 
tion ;  and  that  is  not  possible.  But  it  is  best 
for  ihe  making  up  of  the  universe,  that  there 
be  those  difl'erences  God  hath  made,  and,  from 
the  highest  to  the  lowest,  he  hath  set  each 
one  in  that  station  he  thought  good.  There 
is  not  a  common  soldier  in  an  army,  but  would 
wish  to  be  a  commander,  and  so,  if  each  might 
have  his  will,  all  would  corrunand,  and  none 
obey.  The  like  holds  in  masters  and  servants, 
and  in  all  such  other  difi"erences.  So  then, 
seeing  those  difl'erences  are  in  the  world,  and 
seeing  it  wholly  belongs  to  him  who  rules  the 
world  to  dispose  of  them,  our  part  is  no  other 
than  contentedly  to  accept  of  his  disposal, 
and  to  serve  him  in  the  station  where  he  hath 
set  us. 

2.  If  you  be  such  as  have  evidence  you  are 
the  children  of  God,  then  you  know,  he  doth 
not  only  allot  your  condition  wisely,  but  with- 
al, in  peculiar  love  and  favor.  He  j)crfect!v 
knows  what  outward  estate  is  particularly 
fittest  for  you,  and  will  conduce  most  to  your 
highest  good,  and  will  not  miss  to  give  you 
that,  and  no  other.  And  certainly  it  is  true 
in  matter  of  estate,  as  of  our  garments,  not 
that  which  is  largest,  but  that  which  fits  us 
best,  is  best  for  us. 

3.  Consider,  that  no  outward  condition  hath 
contentment  in  it  of  itself:  this  must  arise 
from  somewhat  within.  Men  see  the  great 
attendance,  and  train  of  servants  that  wait  up- 
on princes  and  other  great  persons,  but  they 
see  not  the  train  of  cares  and  perplexing 
thoughts  that  many  times  go  along  too,  and 
are  more  inseparable  attendants  than  any  of 
the  rest :  they  see  their  fine  clothes  and  state- 
ly buildings,  but  they  see  not  the  secret  mal- 
contents and  vexations  that  dwell  with  them, 
and  are  the  very  linings  of  the  rich  apparel. 
Light  things  often  discontent  them.  Look  at 
their  very  pastimes  and  recreations;  theyare 
sometimes  as  much  troubled  with  disappoint- 
mentin  those, as  the  poor  man  is  wearied  with 
his  labor.  It  wasnotamuch  greatercross  that 
vexed  Haman  :  all  his  advancement  availed 
not  without  Mordecai's  courtesy.  A  strange 
disease,  that  he  felt  more  the  pain  of  anoth- 
er man's  stiff"  knee,  than  the  contentment  of 
all  his  honors!  But  whoso  knew  their  deep- 
er vexations,  would  admire  tlicm  less,  when 
crossed  in  their  ambition  or  friends,  or  the 
husband  and  wife  not  finding  that  harmony 
of  dispositions  and  aff'ections.  Few,  or  none, 
but  have  something  that  a  man  would  wil- 
lingly leave  >'Ut,  if  he  were  for  his  wish  to  be 
in  their  condition.  The  shorter  and  surer 
way,  then,  to  contentment,  is  to  be  contented- 
ly what  he  is. 

4.  Consider  those  who  are  below  you,  and 
in  a  far  meaner  condition,  and  by  that  argue 
yourself,  not  only  to  contentment,  but  to 
thankfulness.  We  pervert  all :  when  we 
look  below  us,  it  raises  our  pride  ;  and  when 


A  SHORT  CATECHISxM. 


above  us,  it  casts  us  into  discontent.  Might 
we  not  as  well,  contrariwise,  draw  humility 
out  of  ihe  one,  and  contentment  out  of  the 
other  ? 

5.  Seek  to  be  assured  that  God  is  yours. 
Then,  whatsoever  others  possess,  you  will  be 
sure  not  to  covet  it,  nor  envy  them.  Those 


who  have  most,  you  will  pity,  if  they  want 
him  ;  and  those  who  have  him,  you  will  have 
no  envy  at  them  for  sharing  with  you,  biit 
love  them  the  more.  For  that  Intiuite  Good 
is  enough  for  ail  that  choose  him  :  and  none 
do  so,  but  those  whom  he  hath  first  chosea 
in  eternal  love. 


A  SHORT  CATECHISM. 


Question.  What  is  naturally  every  man's 
chief  desire  ? 

Answer.    To  be  happy. 

Q.  Which  is  the  way  to  true  happiness? 

A.  True  religion. 

Q.  What  is  true  religion  ? 

A.  The  true  and  lively  knowledge  of  the 
Only  true  God,  and  of  him  whom  he  hath 
sent,  Jesus  Christ. 

Q.  Whence  is  this  knowledge  to  be  learned  ? 

A.  All  the  works  of  God  declare  his  being, 
and  his  glory  ;  but  the  clearer  knowledge  of 
himself,  and  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  is  to  be 
learned  from  his  own  word,  contained  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Tesla- 
ment. 

Q.  What  do  those  scriptures  teach  us  con- 
cerning God  ? 

A.  That  he  is  one  infinite,  eternal  Spirit, 
most  wise,  and  holy,  and  just  and  merciful, 
and  the  all-powerful  Maker,  and  Ruler  of  the 
world. 

Q.  What  do  they  further  leach  us  concern- 
ing him  ? 

A.  That  he  is  Three  in  One,  and  One  in 
Three,  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost. 

Q.  What  will  that  lively  knowledge  of 
God  efTectually  work  in  us? 

A.  It  will  cause  us  to  believe  in  him,  and 
to  love  him  above  all  things,  even  above  our- 
selves, to  adore  and  worship  him,  to  pray  to 
him,  and  to  praise  him,  and  exalt  him  with 
all  our  rnii;hi,  and  to  yield  up  ourselves  to  the 
obedience  of  all  his  commandments,  as  hav- 
ing both  made  us,  and  made  himself  known 
to  us  lor  that  very  end. 

Rehearse,  then,  the  articles  of  our  belief. 

I  believe  in  God  the  Father,  &c. 

Rehearse  the  Ten  Commandments  of  the 
Law,  which  are  the  rules  of  our  obedience, 
and  s(,  the  trial  of  our  love. 

A.  rod  spake  these  words,  I  am  the  Lord 
thy  God,  &c. 

Q.  What  is  the  summary  our  Savior  hath 
given  us  of  this  Law  ? 

A.  Thou  slialt  love  the  Lord  thy  Gdd  with 
all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with 
air  thy  mind,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 


Q.  What  is  the  efTectual  means  of  obtain- 
ing increase  of  faith  and  pov/er  to  obey,  and 
generally,  all  graces  and  blessings  at  the  hand 
of  God  ? 

A.  Prayer. 

Rehearse  that  most  excellent  and  perfect 
prayer  that  our  Savior  hath  taught  us. 

A.  Our  Father,  which  art  in  heaven,  &c. 

Q.  In  what  estate  was  man  created  ? 

A.  Afier  the  image  of  God  in  holiness  and 
righteousness. 

Q.  Did  he  continue  in  that  estate  ? 

A.  No.  But  by  breaking  the  command- 
ment which  his  Maker  gave  him,  eating  ot 
the  fruit  of  that  tree  which  was  forbidden 
him,  he  made  himself  and  his  whole  posteri- 
ty subject  to  sin  and  death. 

Q.  Hath  God  left  man  in  this  misery,  with- 
out all  means  and  hopes  of  recovery  ? 

A.  No.  For  he  so  loved  the  world,  that 
he  gave  his  only  beirotten  vSon,  that  whosoev- 
er believeth  on  him  should  not  perish,  but 
have  everlasting  life. 

Q.  What  is  then  the  great  doctrine  of  the 
gospel  ? 

A.  That  same  coming  of  the  Son  of  God  in 
the  flesh,  and  giving  himself  to  the  death  of 
the  cross,  to  take  away  the  sin  of  the  world, 
and  his  rising  again  from  the  dead,  and  as- 
cending into  glory. 

Q.  What  doth  that  gospel  mainly  teach 
and  really  persuade  all  the  followers  of  it 
to  do? 

A.  It  teacheth  them  to  deny  ungodliness 
and  worldly  lusts,  and  to  live  soberly,  and 
righteously,  and  godly  in  this  present  world. 

Q.  How  hath  our  Lord  Jesus  himself  ex- 
pressed the  great  and  necessary  duly  of  all 
his  disciples  ? 

A.  That  they  deny  themselves,  and  take 
up  their  cross,  and  follow  him. 

Rehearse  then  some  of  the  chief  points 
wherein  we  are  to  follow  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ. 

A.  1.  To  surrender  ourselves  wholly  to  our 
heavenly  Father,  and  his  good  pleasure  in 
all  things,  even  in  the  sharpest  aflliciitns  and 
sufferings:  and  not  at  all  to  do  our  own  will, 
or  design  our  own  praise  or  advantage,  but 


844 


A  SHORT  CATECHISM. 


n  all  things  tc  dc  hi?  will  and  intend  his 
glory. 

2.  To  be  spotless,  and  chaste,  and  holy,  in 
our  whole  conversation. 

Add  a  third. 

3.  To  be  meek  and  lowly,  not  to  slander  or 
reproach,  to  mock  or  despise  any  ;  and  if  any 
do  so  to  us,  to  bear  it  patiently,  yea  to  re- 
joice in  it. 

A  fourth. 

4.  Unfcigncdly  to  love  our  Christian  breth- 
ren, and  to  be  charitably  and  kindly  affected 
toward  all  men,  even  to  our  enemies,  for- 
giving them,  yea,  praying  for  them,  and  re- 
turning them  good  for  evil ;  to  comfort  the 
afllicted,  and  relieve  the  poor,  and  to  do  good 
for  all,  as  we  are  able. 

Q.  Is  it  necessary  that  all  Christians  live 
according  to  these  rules  ? 

A.  So  absolutely  necessary,  that  they  who 
do  not  so  in  some  good  measure,  whatsoever 
they  profess,  do  not  really  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ,  nor  have  any  portion  in  him. 

Q.  What  visible  seals  hath  our  Savior  an- 
nexed to  that  gospel,  to  confirm  ourfaith,  and 
to  convey  the  grace  of  it  to  us  ? 

A.  The  two  Sacraments  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, Baptism,  and  the  Lord's  Supper. 

Q.  What  doth  Baptism  signify  and  seal  ? 

A.  Our  washing  from  sin,  and  our  new 
birth  in  Jesus  Christ. 

Q.  What  doth  the  Lord's  Supper  signify 
and  seal  ? 

A.  Our  spiritual  nourishment  and  growth 
in  him,  and  transforming  us  more  and  more 
into  his  likeness,  by  commemorating  his 
ceath,  and  feeding  on  his  body  and  blood, 
linder  the  figures  of  bread  and  wine. 

Q.  What  is  required  to  make  fit  and  wor- 
thy CO  amunicants  of  the  Lord's  Supper  ? 


A.  Faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  re- 
pentance toward  God,  and  charity  toward  all 
men. 

Q.  What  is  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus? 

A-  It  is  the  grace  by  which  we  both  be- 
lieve his  whole  doctrine,  and  trust  in  him  as 
the  Redeemer  and  Savior  of  the  world,  and 
entirely  deliver  up  ourselves  to  him,  to  be 
taught  and  saved  and  ruled  by  him,  as  our 
Prophet,  Priest,  and  King. 

Q.  AVhat  is  repentance  ? 

A.  It  is  a  godly  sorrow  for  sin,  and  a 
hearty  and  real  turning  from  all  sin  unto 
God. 

Q.  What  is  the  final  portion  of  unbeliev- 
ing and  unrepentant  sinners  ? 

A.  The  everlasting  torments  ol' devils. 

Q.  What  is  the  final  portion  of  them  who 
truly  repent  and  believe  and  obey  the  gos- 
pel ? 

A.  The  blessed  life  of  angels,  m  the  vision 
of  God  for  ever. 

A  Question  for  young  Persons,  before  their 
first  admission  to  the  Lord^s  Supper. 

Q.  Whereas  you  were,  in  your  infancy, 
baptized  into  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  do 
you  now,  upon  distinct  knowledge,  and  with 
a  firm  belief  and  pious  affection,  own  that 
Christian  faith  of  which  you  have  given  an 
account,  and  withal,  your  baptismal  vow  ot 
renouncing  the  service  of  Satan,  and  the 
world,  and  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  and  of  de- 
voting yourself  to  God  in  all  holiness  of  life  ? 

A.  I  do  sincerely  and  heartily  declare  my 
belief  of  that  faith  and  own  my  engagement 
to  that  holy  vow,  and  resolve,  by  the  assist- 
ance of  God's  grace,  to  continue  in  the  care- 
ful observance  of  it  all  my  davs. 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


PREFACE 

BT 

THE  PUBLISHER  OF  THE  LATIN  EDITION. 

To  THE  Reader, 

"  What  is  grand  and  substantial,"  says 
Quinctilian,  "  pleases  long  ;  while  that  which 
is  only  neat  and  handsome,  charms  for  a 
while,  but  soon  cloys."*  Now,  what  can  be 
imagined  more  grand  and  substantial,  than  to 
contemplate  the  great  Creator  of  the  uni- 
verse, in  his  visible  works  ;  to  view,  in  this 
vast  volume,  which  lies  always  open,  his  in- 
finite power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  and  ad- 
mire ihe  instances  thereof,  that  appear  al- 
ways new  f,nd  astonishing?  Again,  what 
can  be  more  agreeable  and  sublime,  than 
turning  our  eyes  to  the  great  mysteries  of 
revealed  religion,  to  read  with  wonder  and 
delight  what  is  contained  in  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures, concerning  the  Savior  and  Redeemer 
of  the  human  race  from  the  dreadful  gulf  of 
death  and  misery  into  which  they  had  fallen  ; 
to  review  with  attention  what  is  therein  dis- 
covered, wiih  regard  to  our  highest  happi- 
ness, the  rewards  of  virtue,  and  the  punish- 
ment of  an  impious  life:  and  to  have  these 
important  matters  deeply  impressed  upon  the 
heart?  These  truths,  however  great  and  in- 
teresting, are  laii  before  thee,  pious  and 
Christian  reader,  ii.  these  theological  disserta- 
tions ;  where  thou  wilt  find  them  deduced 
with  great  learning,  explained  with  clearness 
and  accuracy,  and  confirmed  by  powerful  ar- 
guments. For  our  author,  now  in  heaven.t 
who,  while  he  lived,  was  equally  remarka- 
ble for  learning  and  piety,  never  used  to 
Btray  beyond  the  verge  of  this  divine  system. 

That  these  remains  of  his  were  the  sacred 
lectures  he  read  in  the  public  hall  of  the  uni- 
versity of  Edinburgh,  while  he  was  principal 
of  that  university,  will  admit  of  no  manner 
of  doubt:  there  are  a  great  manv  still  alive, 
who  can  attest  this  truth  ;  as'  they  were 
themselves  present  at  these  lectures,  to  their 
great  satisfaction  and  improvement.  They 
all  heard  them,  some  took  notes  of  them  ; 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped,  some  had  the  substance 
of  them  powerfully  impressed  upon  their 
hearts.  To  these  I  appeal,  and  to  them,  I 
doubt  not,  this  work  will  be  very  acceptable; 
since  those  instructions  which  gave  so  much 

•  Qu?B  solida  et  ampla  sunt  din  placent ;  quse  ati- 
tern  If'pida  et  concinna,  paiilulum  quidcm  mulcent, 
»«d  cit(»  satiant.    Fab.  (iuinl. 


pleasure  when  heard  but  once,  and  that  in  a 
cursory  manner,  they  may  now  have  recourse 
to  as  often  as  they  please;  they  rnay  read 
them  at  their  leisure,  and  draw  from  them 
matter  of  most  delightful  meditation.  And, 
to  be  sure,  those  who  have  tiie  least  divine 
disposition  of  mind,  will  make  it  the  princi- 
pal business  of  their  life,  and  their  highest 
pleasure  to  stray  through  those  delightful 
gardens  abounding  with  such  sweet  and  fra- 
grant flowers,  and  refresh  their  hearts  with 
the  celestial  honey  that  may  be  drawn  from 
them :  nor  is  there  any  ground  to  fear  that 
such  supplies  will  fail ;  for  how  often  soever 
you  have  recourse  to  them,  you  will  always 
find  them  blooming,  full  of  juice,  and  swelled 
with  the  dew  of  heaven  :  nay,  when  by  deep 
and  continued  meditation,  you  imagine  you 
have  pulled  the  finest  flower,  it  buds  forth 
again,  and  what  Virgil  writes  concerning  his 
fal)ulous  golden  bough  is,  in  strictest  truth, 
applicable  in  this  case: — 

Uno  avulso,  non  deficit  alter, 
Aurerts. 

The  lectures  I  now  present  thee  with,  I 
caused  to  be  copied  out  fair  from  a  manu- 
script in  the  author'sown  handwriting ;  which 
was  a  work  that  required  great  care  and  at- 
tention, on  account  of  the  blots  and  interlin- 
eations of  that  original  manuscript  ;  for  the 
author  had  written  them  in  haste,  and  with- 
out the  least  thought  of  ever  publishing  them. 
This  done,  at  the  desire  of  a  great  many,  I 
got  them  printed,  and  now  lay  them  before 
the  public,  in  the  same  order  in  which  they 
were  read,  as  far  as  can  be  recollected  from 
circumstances. 

You  must  not  expect  to  find  in  these  truly 
sacred  lectures,  the  method  conmionly  used 
in  theological  systems  ;  for  while  our  rever- 
end author  clearly  explains  the  doctrines  of 
religion,  he  intermixes  to  excellent  purpose 
the  principles  of  piety,  and  while  he  enlight- 
ens the  understanding,  he  at  the  same  same 
lime  warms  the  heart. 

Being  to  treat  of  religion,  he  uses  a  practi- 
cal method,  which  is  most  suitable  to  his 
subject,  and  begins  with  happiness,  that  being 
the  scope  and  design  of  religion,  as  well  as 
the  ultimate  end  of  human  life.  He  begins 
with  an  explanation  of  happiness  in  general, 
on  which  he  treats  at  some  length  ;  then 
proceeds  to  consider  the  ha|)j)iness  of  man, 
which  may  be  called  perfect  and  truly  divine, 
as  it  has  for  its  object  the  infinitely  blessed 
and  perfect  Bemg  who  created  him,  and  for- 


646 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES 


matlv  consists  m  the  beatific  vision  and  frui- 
tion of  Him,  wliich  is  reserved  in  lienven  for 
tho>e  wild  by  faith  arc  lravelliii<r  ihrougli  this 
earth,  toward  that  i)lefsed  country.  He  adds, 
witii  great  propriety,  tliat  hai)piiu'ss,  so  far 
as  it  is  comjiatible  with  this  wretched  life  of 
sorrows,  consists  in  true  religion,  and  in  reli- 
gion alone;  not  only  as  it  is  the  way  w  ich 
leads  directly  to  that  perfect  happiness  re- 
served in  heaven  :  but  because  it  is  itself  of 
Divine  original,  and,  in  reality,  the  beginning 
of  that  very  happiness  which  is  to  be  perfect- 
ed in  the  life  to  come. 

He  observes,  that  the  doctrine  of  religion 
is  most  justly  called  theology,  as  it  has  the 
most  hiirh  God  for  its  author,  object,  and  end. 
He  suggests  many  excellent  thoughts  con- 
cerning the  Divine  existence,  and  reasons 
from  the  common  consent  of  nations,  from  the 
creatures  we  see  about  us,  and  from  what  we 
feel  and  experience  within  ourselves,  as  all 
These  so  loudly  proclaim  the  being  of  God  : 
but  the  arjTument  taken  from  the  harmony 
and  beautiful  order  of  the  universe,  he  prose- 
cutes at  great  length  ;  and  from  this  consid- 
eration, which  is  attended  with  greater  evi- 
dence tb.an  all  the  demonstrations  of  the  sci- 
ences, he  clearly  proves  the  existence  of  an 
eternal,  independent  Being. 

With  regard  to  the  nature  of  God,  he  ad- 
vances but  little,  and  with  great  caution  ;  for 
concerning  the  Supreme  Being  he  thought  it 
dangerous  even  to  speak  truth  :  but  is  very 
earnest  and  diffuse  in  his  exhortations  to 
make  the  wisdom,  pow^er,  and  goodness  of 
God,  that  shine-forth  with  great  lustre  in  all 
his  works,  the  subject  of  our  constant  and 
most  serious  meditation.  As  to  the  unfath- 
omable depth  of  his  eternal  decrees,  he  was 
greatly  pleased  with  that  expression  of 
Augustin,  "  Let  others  dispute,  I  will  ad- 
mire."* 

Among  his  works,  the  first  is  that  vast  and 
stupendous  one,  the  primitive  creation  of  all 
things,  which,  besides  the  infallible  testimo- 
ny of  the  inspired  oracles,  our  author,  by  a 
concise,  but  clear  dissertation  on  the  subject, 
proves  quite  consonant  and  agreeable  to  rea- 
son. He  then  treats  of  man,  of  his  original 
integrity,  and  the  most  unhappy  fall  that 
soon  followed.  But  to  this  most  lamentable 
story  he  subjoins  another  as  happy  and  en- 
couraging as  the  other  is  moving,  I  mean,  the 
admirable  scheme  of  Divine  love  for  the  sal- 
vation of  siimers.  A  glorious  and  blessed 
method,  that  to  the  account  of  the  most 
shocking  misery  subjoins  the  doctrine  of  in- 
comparable mercy  I  Man,  forsaking  God, 
falls  into  the  miserable  condition  of  devils  ; 
God,  from  whom  he  revolted,  determines  to 
extricate  him,  by  his  powerful  hand,  out  of 
this  misery  ;  and  that  this  might  be  the  more 
wonderfully  effected,.  God  himself  becomes 
man.  "  This  is  the  glory  of  man,  by  such 
means  raised  from  his  woful  state  '  this  the 
wonder  of  angels,  and  this  the  sum  and  sub- 
•  Alii  disputent  ego  mirabor 


stance  of  all  miracles  united  in  nnt  !"*  The 
word  was  made  flesh  I  He  who  died  as  man, 
as  God  rose  again,  and  having  been  seen  on 
earth,  returns  to  hwaveti,  whence  he  came. 
On  each  of  these  he  advances  a  few  thoughts 
that  are  weighty  and  serious,  but,  at  tin 
same  time  pleasing  and  agreeable. 

To  these  lectures,  I  have  added  some  ex 
hortations  by  our  author,  to  the  cnndidate 
for  the  degree  of  master  of  arts,  delivered  a 
the  annual  solemnity  held  in  the  university 
for  that  purpose  ;  together  with  his  medita 
tions  on  Psalms  the  4th,  32d,  and  VSOlh  :t  be- 
cause I  was  unwilling  that  any  of  the  works 
of  so  great  a  man  sho&ld  continue  in  obscuri- 
ty, to  be  devoured  by  moths  and  bookworms, 
especially  one  calculated  for  forming  the 
morals  of  mankind,  and  for  the  direction  of 
life.  For  in  these  meditations,  he  exhorts 
and  excites  the  youth  under  his  care,  not  by 
labored  oratory  and  pompous  expressions,  but 
by  powerful  eloquence,  earnest  entreaties, and 
solid  arguments,  to  the  love  of  Christ,  purity 
of  life,  and  contempt  of. the  world. 

But  what  will  all  this  signify  to  thee, 
reader,  if  thy  mind  is  carried  away  with" 
childish  folly,  or  the  wild  rage  of  passions,  or 
even  if  thou  art  still  laboring  under  a  stujpid 
negligence  of  the  means  of  grace,  and  uncon- 
cerned about  eternal  happiness  and  thy  im- 
mortal soul  ?  I  doubt  not,  however,  but  these 
truly  divine  essays  will  fall  into  the  hands  of 
some,  who  are  endued  with  a  better  disposi* 
tion  of  mind  ;  nor  are  we  to  despair  of  the 
rest,  "for  the  Father  of  spirits  liveih  still, 
and  he  hath  his  seat  in  heaven,  who  instructs 
the  hearts  of  men  on  this  earth. "if  May, 
therefore,  the  greatest  and  best  of  Beings 
grant,  that  these  academical  exercises  may 
have  happy  effects!  And  that  our  heavenly 
Father  would  second  these  means  with  his 
all-powerful  grace,  shall  be,  while  he  lives, 
the  humble  and  ardent  prayer  of  him. 
Who  earnestly  desire  thy  salvation, 

jAi  Fall. 


LECTURE  L 

INTRODUCTION. 

With  little  strength  I  undertake  a  great 
work,  or  rather,  with  the  least  abilities  1 
venture  upon  a  task  which  is  of  all  others  the 
greatest  and  most  important.  Among  the 
various  undertakings  of  men,  can  an  instance 
be  given,  of  one  more  sublime  than  an  in- 
tention to  form  the  human  mind  anevv^,  after 
the  Divine  image?  Yet  it  will,  I  doubt  not, 
be  universally  acknowledged,  that  this  is  the 

'  Hie  hominis  ex  lanto  dedecorc  resurgentis  lionos,  • 
hie  angelorum  stupor,  hoc  miraculorum  omnium  com- 
pendium ! 

t  These  were  likewise  written  in  Latin,  and  have 
been  translated. 

t  Vivit  cnim  spirituum  pater,  et  cathedram  habet 
in  cceIo,  qui  corda  docet  in  terris. 


INTRODUCTION. 


647 


true  end  and  design,  not  only  of  ministers  in 
iheir  several  congregaiions,  but  also  of  pro- 
fessors of  divinity  in  schools.  And  though,  in 
naost  respects,  the  ministerial  office  is  evi- 
dently superior  to  that  of  professors  of  theol- 
ogy in  colleges,  in  one  respect  the  other  seems 
to  have  the  preference,  as  it  is,  at  least  for 
the  most  part,  the  business  of  the  former  to 
instruct  the  common  sort  of  men,  the  igno- 
rant and  illiterate  ;  while  it  is  the  work  of 
the  latter  to  season  with  heavenly  doctrine 
the  minds  of  select  societies  of  youth,  who 
hare  had  a  learned  education,  and  are  devo- 
ted to  a  studious  life  ;  many  of  whom,  it  is 
to  be  hoped,  will,  by  the  Divine  blessing,  be- 
come preachers  of  the  same  salutary  doc- 
trine themselves.  And  surely  this  ought  to 
be  a  powerful  motive  with  all  those  who,  by 
the  Divine  dispensation,  are  employed  in  such 
a  work,  to  exert  thein'^elves  with  the  greater 
life  and  spirit  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty  ; 
especially  when  they  consider  that  those 
Christian  instructions  and  seeds  of  true  piety, 
which  ihey  instil  into  the  tender  minds  of 
their  pupils,  will  by  them  be  spread  far  and 
wide,  and  in  due  time,  conveyed,  as  it  were, 
by  so  many  canals  and  aqueducts,  to  many 
parts  of  the  Lord's  vineyard.  Plutarch  em- 
ploys an  argument  of  this  kind,  to  prevail 
with  the  philosophers  to  exert  themselves  in 
the  instruction  of  princes  and  great  men, 
rather  than  witli  a  haughty  sullenness  to 
avoid  their  company  :  "  For  thus,"  says  he, 
"  you  will  find  a  short  way  to  be  useful  to  ma- 
ny." And  to  be  sure,  he  that  conveys  the 
principles  of  virtue  and  wisdom  into  the 
rninds  of  the  lower  classes  of  men,  or  the  il- 
literate, whatever  progress  his  disciples  may 
make,  employs  his  time  and  talents  only  for 
the  advantage  of  his  pupils;  but  he  that 
forms  the  minds  of  magistrates  and  great 
men,  or  such  as  are  intended  for  high  and  ex- 
alted stations,  by  improving  one  single  per- 
son, becomes  a  benefactor  to  large  and  nu- 
merous societies.  Every  physician  of  generous 
principles,  as  Plutarch  expresses  it  ['I>iXok  .Xos], 
would  have  an  uncommon  ambition  to  cure 
an  eye  intended  to  watch  over  many  persons, 
and  convey  the  sense  of  seeing  to  numbers  : 
and  a  musical  instrument-maker  would,  with 
uncommon  pleasure,  exert  his  skill  in  per- 
fecting a  harp,  if  he  knew  that  it  was  to  be 
employed  by  the  hands  of  Amphion,  and  by 
the  force  of  its  music,  to  draw  stones  togeth- 
er for  building  the  walls  of  Thebes.  A 
learned  and  ingenious  author,  alluding  to 
this  fable,  and  applying  it  to  our  present  pur- 
pose, calls  professors  of  theology  in  schools, 
makers  of  harps  for  building  the  walls  of  a 
far  more  famed  and  beautiful  city,  meaning 
the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  in  such  a  manner, 
that  the  stones  of  this  building  being  truly, 
and  without  a  fable,  living,  and  charmed  by 
the  pleasant  harmony  of  the  gospel,  come  of 
their  own  acc(jrd  to  take  their  places  in  the 
,vall. 

I  am  not  so  little  acauainted  with  myself,  | 


as  to  entertain  the  least  hope  of  success  in  so 
great  a  work  by  my  own  strength  and  abili- 
ties; but,  while  I  humbly  depend  upon  the 
Divine  goodness  and  favor,  I  have  no  reason 
to  despair  ;  for  in  the  hand  of  Omnipotence, 
all  instruments  are  alike.  Nor  can  it  be 
questioned  that  He,  who  made  all  things  out 
of  nothing,  can  produce  any  change  he  plea- 
ses in  his  creatures  that  are  already  made; 
He  who  gives  Zuijy,  kqI  ciioiji',  <tai  (juj/rri  life  and 
breath,  and  all  things,  can  easily  strengthen 
the  weak,  and  give  riches  in  abundance  to 
the  poor  and  needy.  Our  emptiness  only 
serves  to  lay  us  open  to,  and  attract  the  ful- 
ness of  Him  "  who  fills  all  things,  and  is 
over  all ;  who  gives  wisdom  to  the  mind,  and 
prevents  its  irregular  sallies." 

Under  his  auspices,  therefore,  young  gen- 
tlemen, we  are  to  aspire  to  true  and  saving 
wisdom,  and  to  try  to  raise  ourselves  above 
this  sublunary  world.  For  it  is  not  my  in- 
tention to  perplex  you  with  curious  questions, 
and  lead  you  through  the  thorny  paths  of 
disputation  ;  but,  if  I  had  any  share  of  that 
excellent  art,  it  would  be  my  delight  to  di- 
rect your  way,  through  the  easy  and  pleasant 
paths  of  righteousness,  to  a  life  of  endless 
felicity,  and  be  mysell'  your  companion  in 
that  blessed  pursuit.  T  would  take  pleasure 
to  kindle  in  your  souls  the  most  ardent  de- 
sires, and  fervent  love  of  heavenly  things; 
and  to  use  the  expression  of  a  great  divine, 
add  "wings  to  your  souls,  to  snatch  them 
away  from  this  world,  and  restore  thein  to 
God."  For,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak 
with  freedom,  most  part  of  the  notions  tliat 
are  treated  of  in  theological  schools,  that  are 
taught  with  great  pom])  and  ostentation,  and 
disputed  with  vast  bustle  and  noise,  may  pos- 
sibly have  the  sharpness  of  thorns  ;  but  they 
have  also  their  barrenness :  they  may  prick 
and  tear,  hut  they  can  afford  no  solid  nour- 
ishment to  the  minds  of  men.  No  man  ever 
gathered  grapes  off  thorns,  nor  ftsra  off"  this- 
tles. "  To  what  purpose,"  saith  A  Kempis, 
"  dost  thou  reason  profoundly  concerning  the 
Trinity,  if  thou  art  without  humility,  and 
thereby  displeasest  that  Trinity?"*  And  St. 
Augustine,  upon  the  words  of  Jsaiah,  1  am 
the  Lord  that  tcachcth  thee  to  pro/it,  observes 
with  great  propriety,  that  the  prophet  here 
mentions  utility  in  op[)osition  to  subtilty.f 
Such  are  the  principles  I  would  wish  to  com- 
municate to  you  ;  and  it  is  my  earnest  desire 
and  fervent  prayer,  that,  while  I,  according  to 
my  measure  of  strength,  propose  them  to 
your  understanding,  He  who  sits  in  heaven, 
yet  condescends  to  instruct  the  heartsof  rnen 
on  this  earth,  may  effectuaily  impress  them 
upon  your  minds. 

But  that  you  may  be  capable  of  this  su- 
pernatural light  and  lieavunly  instruction,  it 
is,  first  of  all,  absolutely  necessary,  that  your 
rninds  be  called  off  from  foreign  objects ;  and 

"  Qiiorsum  alta  de  Trinitate  dipjnitare,  si  ca:eaa 
hurnilitatc,  et  sic  Trinitate  displiceas  ? 
't  Utilia  non  subtilia 


648 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


turned  in  upon  themselves;  for,  as  long:  as 
your  tliourrlits  are  dispersed  and  scattered  in 
pursuit  of  vanity  and  insignificant  trifles,  he 
that  wouhl  lay  bel'nre  iheni  the  principles  and 
precepts  of  this  sjiiritual  wisdom,  would  com- 
mit tliem,  like  the  sybil's  prophecies,  that 
were  written  on  loose  leaves  of  trees,  to  the 
mercy  of  the  inconstant  winds,  and  thereby 
render  them  entirely  useless.  It  is  certainly 
a  matter  of  great  difficulty,  and  requires  un- 
common art,  to  fix  the  thoughts  of  men,  es- 
pecially young  men  and  boys,  and  turn  them 
in  upon  themselves.  We  read  in  the  para- 
ble of  the  gos})el  concerning  the  prodigal 
son,  that,  first  of  all,  he.  came  to  himself,  and 
then  returned  to  his  father.  It  is  certainly  a 
very  considerable  step  toward  conversion  to 
God,  to  have  the  mind  fixed  upon  itself,  and 
disposed  to  think  seriously  of  its  own  imme- 
diate concerns;  which  the  pious  St.  Bernard 
excellently  expresses  in  this  prayer:  "May 
I,"  says  he,  "return  from  external  objects  to 
my  own  inward  concerns,  and  from  inferior 
objects  rise  to  those  of  a  superior  nature."* 
I  should  look  upon  it  as  no  small  happiness, 
if,  out  of  this  whole  society,  I  could  gain  but 
one,  but  wish  earnestly  I  could  prevail  with 
many,  and  still  more  ardently  that  I  could 
send  you  all  away,  fully  determined  to  en- 
tertain more  serious  and  secret  thoughts 
than  ever  you  had  before,  with  regard  to  your 
immortal  state  and  eternal  concerns.  But 
now  vain  are  the  thoughts  of  men  !  What  a 
iarkness  overclouds  their  minds  !t  It  is  the 
g'reat  complaint  of  God  concerning  his  peo- 

fle,  that  they  have  not  a  heart  to  understand. 
t  is  at  once  the  great  disgrace  and  misery  of 
mankind,  that  they  live  without  forethought. 
That  brutish  thoughtlessness,  pardon  the  ex- 
pression, or,  to  speak  more  intelligibly,  want 
of  consideration,  is  the  death  and  ruin  of 
souls.  And  the  ancients  observe,  with  great 
truth  and  justice  that,  "  a  thoughtful  mind  is 
the  spring  and  source  of  pvery  good  thing. "J 
It  is  the  advice  of  *he  psalmist,  that  we 
should  converse  much  with  ourselves :  an  ad- 
vice, indeed,  which  is  regarded  by  few;  for  the 
greatest  part  of  mankind  are  nowhere  greater 
strangers  ihan  at  home.  But  it  is  my  earnest 
request  to  you,  that  you  would  be  intimately 
acquainted  with  yourselves,  and  as  becomes 
persons  devoted  to  a  studious  life,  be  much 
at  home,  much  in  your  own  company,  and 
very  often  engaged  in  serious  conversation 
with  yourselves.  Think  gravely,  "  To  what 
purpose  do  I  live  ?  Whither  am  I  going?" 
Ask  thyself,  hast  thou  any  fixed  and  deter- 
mined purpose,  any  end  that  thou  pursuest 
with  steadfastness  ?||  "  The  principles  I  have 
embraced  under  the  name  of  the  Christian 
religion,  the  things  I  have-  so  often  heard 
about  a  future  state  and  life,  and  death  eter- 

•  Ab  exterioribus  ad  interiora  retlcam,  et  ab  infe- 
.oribus  ad  superiora  ascondarn. 
t  O  vanas  hominum  niciitps  !    0  pectora  cceca  ! 
{  Intellcctus  cngitabmidus  priiu  ipium  omnis  boni.  _ 
M  Est  aJiquid  quo  tendif.  et  ir  quid  dirigis  arcum 


nal,  are  they  true  or  false  ?"  If  they  are  (fuc, 
as  we  all  absolutely  profess  to  belu.'vt  they 
are,  then,  to  be  sure,  the  greatest  and  most 
imi)ortant  matters  of  this  world  are  vain  and 
even  less  than  vanity  itself:  all  our  knowl- 
edge is  but  ignorance,  our  riches  poverty,  our 
pleasure  bitterness,  and  our  honors  vile  and 
dishonorable.  How  liiile  do  those  men  know 
who  are  ambitious  of  glory,  what  it  really  is, 
and  how  to  be  attained  I  Nay,  they  eagerly 
catch  at  the  empty  shadow  oi'  it,  while  they 
avoid  and  turn  their  backs  upon  that  glory 
which  is  real,  substantial,  and  everlasting. 
The  happiness  of  good  men  in  the  life  to 
come,  is  not  only  infinitely  above  all  our  ex- 
pressions, but  even  beyond  our  most  enlarged 
thoughts.  By  comparing,  however,  great 
things  with  small,  we  attain  some  faint  no- 
tions of  these  exalted  and  invisible  blessings, 
I'rom  the  earthly  and  visible  enjoyments  of 
this  world.  In  this  respect,  even  the  Holy 
Scriptures  descend  to  the  weakness  ol'our  ca- 
pacities, and  as  the  Hebrews  express  it,  "  The 
law  of  God  speaks  the  language  of  the  chil- 
dren of  men."*  They  speak  of  this  celestial 
life,  under  the  representations  of  a  heritage, 
of  riches,  of  a  kingdom,  and  a  crown,  but 
with  uncommon  epithets,  and  such  as  are  by 
no  means  applicable  to  earthly  glory  or  opu- 
lence,  however  great.  It  is  an  inheritance, 
but  one  that  is  vncorrupted,  undefilcd,  and 
that  fadeth  not  aroay  ;  a  kinfidom,  but  one  that 
can  never  be  shaken,  much  less  ruined,  which 
can  never  be  said  of  the  thrones  of  this  sublu- 
nary world,  as  evidently  appears  from  the  his- 
tories of  all  nations,  and  our  own  recent  expe- 
rience. Here,  ye  sons  of  Adam,  a  covetous 
and  ambitious  race,  here  is  room  for  a  lauda- 
ble avarice  ;  here  are  motives  to  excite  your 
ambition,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  means 
of  satisfying  it  to  the  full.  But  it  must  be  ac- 
knowledged, that  the  belief  ol' these  things  is 
far  from  being  com.mon.  What  a  rare  attain- 
ment is  faith,  seeing  that  among  the  prodi- 
gious crowds  ol'  those  who  profess  to  believe 
in  this  world,  one  might  justly  cry  out — 
"  Where  is  a  true  believer  to  be  found  ?" 
That  man  shall  never  persuade  me  that  he 
believes  the  truth  and  certajnty  of  heavenly 
enjoyments,  who  cleaves  to  this  earth,  nay, 
who  does  not  scorn  and  despise  it,  with  all 
its  baits  and  allurements,  and  employ  all 
his  powers,  as  well  as  his  utmost  industry, 
to  obtain  these  immense  and  eternal  bles- 
sings. 

Nor  is  there  anythmg  in  the  way  to  these 
enjoyments  that  can  deter  you  from  it,  unless 
holiness  in  heart  and  life  appear  to  be  a  heavy 
and  troublesome  task  to  you  :  whereas,  on  the 
contrary,  nothing  surely  can  be  named,  that 
is  either  more  suited  to  the  dignity  of  human 
nature,  more  beautiful  and  becoming,  or  at- 
tended with  greater  pleasure.  I  therefore  be- 
seech and  entreal  you,  by  the  bowels  of  Di- 
vine mercy,  and  by  your  own  most  precious 
souls,  that  you  would  seriously  consider  these 

*  Lex  Dei  lot^uitur  linguam  filiorum  homin  in? 


HAPPINESS. 


649 


hings,  and  make  them  your  prmcipal  study. 
Try  au  experiment,  attended  with  no  danger 
jr  expense  ;  make  a  trial  of  the  ways  of  this 
wisdom,  and  I  doubt  not  but  you  will  be  so 
tharmed  with  the  pleasaniness  thereof,  that 
you  will  never  thenceforward  depart  from 
them.  For  this  purpose,  I  earnestly  recom- 
mend to  you  to  be  constant  and  assiduous  in 
prayer.  Nay,  it  is  St.  Paul's  exhortation  that 
you  pray  without  ceasing.  1  ThesS.  v.  17.  So 
that  prayer  may  be,  not  only,  according  to  the 
old  saying,  Clavis  diei,  et  sera  noctis — "  The 
key  tiiat  opens  the  day,  and  the  lock  that 
shuts  up  the  night" — -but  also,  so  to  speak,  a 
staff  for  support  in  tlie  daytime,  and  abed  for 
rest  and  comfort  in  the  night  ;  two  conveni- 
ences which  are  commonly  expressed  by  one 
single  Hebrew  word.  And  be  assured,  that 
the  more  frequently  you  pray,  with  so  much 
the  greater  ease  and  pleasure  will  your  pray- 
ers be  attended,  not  only  from  the  common 
and  necessary  connexic^n  between  acts  and 
habits,  but  also  from  the  nature  of  this  duty. 
For  prayer,  being  a  kind  of  conversation  with 
God,  gradually  purihes  the  soul,  and  makes 
it  coDiinually  more  and  more  like  unto  him. 
Our  love  to  God  is  also  very  much  improved 
by  this  frequent  intercourse  with  him  ;  and 
by  his  love,  on  the  other  hand,  the  soul  is  ef- 
fectually disposed  to  fervency,  as  well  as  fre- 
quently in  prayer,  and  can,  by  no  means,  sub- 
sist without  it. 


LECTURE  H. 

HAPPINESS,  ITS  NAME  AND  NATURE,  AND  THE 
DESIRE  OF  IT  UIPLANTED  IN  THE  HUMAN 
HEART. 

How  deep  and  dark  is  that  abyss  of  misery 
into  wiiich  man  is  precipitated  by  his  deplo- 
rable fall  ;  since  he  has  thereby  lost,  not  only 
the  possession,  but  also  the  knowledffe  of  his 
chief  or  principal  good  I  He  has  no  distinct 
notion  of  what  it  is,  of  the  means  of  recover- 
ing it,  or  the  way  he  has  to  take  in  pursuit  of 
it.  Yet  the  human  mind,  however  stunned 
and  weakened  by  so  dfadful  a  fall,  still  re- 
tains some  faint  idea,  some  confused  and  ob- 
scure notions  of  the  good  it  has  lost,  and 
some  remaining  seeds  of  its  heavenly  origi- 
nal.* It  has  also  still  remaining  a  kind  of 
languid  sense  of  its  misery  and  indisence, 
With  affections  suitable  to  those  obscure  no- 
tions. From  this  imperfect  sense  of  its  pov- 
erty, and  these  feeble  affections,  arise  some 
motions  and  efforts  of  the  mind,  like  those  of 
one  groping  in  the  dark,  and  seeking  rest  ev- 
erywhere,but  meeting  with  itnowhere.  This, 
at. least,  is  beyond  all  doubt,  and  indisputable, 
that  all  men  wish  well  to  themselves,  nay, 
that  they  all  catch  at,  and  desire  to  attain, 
the  enjoyment  of  the  most  absolute  and  per- 
fect good  ;  even  the  worst  of  men  have  not 
•  Cognati  semina  cceli. 
82 


lost  this  regard  for  themselves,  nor  can  they 
possibly  divest  themselves  of  it.  And  though, 
alas  !  it  is  but  too  true,  that,  as  we  are  natu- 
rally blind,  we  run  ourselves  upon  misery, 
under  the  disguise  of  happiness,  and  not  only 
embrace,  according  to  the  common  saying, 
"  a  cloud  instead  of  Juno,"*  but  death  itself 
instead  of  life  :  yet,  even  from  this  most  fatal 
error,  it  is  evident  that  we  naturally  pursue 
either  real  happiness,  or  what,  to  our  mis- 
taken judgment,  appears  to  be  such.  Nor 
can  the  mind  of  man  divest  itself  of  this  pro- 
pensity, without  divesting  itself  of  its  being. 
This  IS  what  the  schoolmen  mean,  when,  in 
their  manner  of  expression,  they  say,  that 
"  The  will  is  carried  toward  happiness,  not 
simply  as  will,  but  as  nature. "+ 

It  is  true,  indeed,  the  generality  of  man- 
kind are  not  well  acquainted  with  the  mo- 
tions of  their  own  minds,  nor  at  pains  to  ob- 
serve them,  but,  like  brutes,  by  a  kind  of 
secret  impulse,  are  violently  carried  toward 
such  enjoyments  as  fall  in  their  way  :  they 
do  but  very  little,  or  not  at  all,  enter  into 
themselves,  and  review  the  state  and  opera- 
tions of  their  own  minds  ;  yet,  in  all  their  ac- 
tions, all  their  wishes  and  desires  (though 
they  are  not  always  aware  of  it  themselves), 
this  thirsi  after  immortality  exerts  and  dis- 
covers itself.  Consider  the  busy  part  of  man- 
kind hurrying  to  and  fro  in  the  exercise  of 
their  several  professions — physicians,  lawyers, 
merchants,  mechanics,  i'armers,  and  even  sol- 
diers themselves — they  all  toil  and  labor,  in 
order  to  obtain  rest,  if  success  attend  their  en- 
deavors, and  any  fortunate  event  answer  their 
expectations  ;  encouraged  by  thcsefond  hopes, 
they  eat  their  bread  with  the  sweat  of  their 
brow.  But  their  toil,  after  all,  is  endless,  con- 
stantly returning  in  a  circle  ;  and  the  days  of 
men  pass  away  in  suffering  real  evils,  and  en- 
tertaining fond  hopes  of  apparent  good,  which 
they  seldom  or  never  attain.  Every  man 
Walks  in  a  vain  show:  he  torments  himself  in 
vain.  Psalm  xxxix.  6.  He  pursues  rest  and 
case,  like  his  shadow,  and  never  overtakes 
them  ;  but,  for  the  most  part,  ceases  to  live, 
before  he  begins  to  live  to  purpose.  How- 
ever, after  all  this  confused  and  fluctuating 
appetite,  which  determines  us  to  the  pursuit 
of  good,  either  real  or  a[)parent,  as  it  is  con- 
genial with  us,  and  deeply  rooted  in  the  hu- 
man heart,  so  it  is  the  great  handle  by  which 
Divine  grace  lays  hold,  as  it  were,  upon  our 
nature,  draws  us  to  itself,  and  extricates  us 
out  of  the  profound  abyss  of  misery  into 
which  we  are  fallen. 

From  this  it  evidently  follows,  that  the  de- 
sign of  sacred  theology  is  the  very  same  with 
that  of  human  nature,  and  he  that  rejects  it 
hates  his  own  soul  (for  so  the  wise  king  of  Is- 
rael emi)hatically  expresses  it,  Prov.  viii.  36) ; 
he  is  the  most  irreconcilable  enemy  to  his 
own  happiness,  and  absolutely  at  varianco 

•  Nubom  pro  Junone. 

t  In  bcatitudinein  lertur  voluntas,  non  ut  vcluntM 
sed  ut  nutura. 


S50 


THEOLOGICAL  LtCTURES. 


witli  himself ;  according  to  tliat  of  St.  Bernard, 
*•  Alter  1  was  set  ii>  opposition  to  Thee,  I  be- 
came also  contrary  to  myself."* 

These  considerations  have  determined  me 
to  be<iin  these  instructions,  such  as  they  are, 
which, with  Divine  assistance,!  intend  \o  sive 
you, concerning  the  principles  of  the  Christian 
religion,  wiih  a  short  disquisition  concerning 
the  chief  or  ultimate  end  of  man.  And  here  it 
is  to  be,  tirst  of  all,  observed,  that  the  transcen- 
dent and  supreme  end  of  all,  is  the  glory  of 
God  ;  all  things  returning,  in  a  most  beauti- 
ful circle,  to  this,  as  the  original  source  from 
which  they  at  first  took  their  rise.  But  the 
end  of  true  religion,  as  far  as  it  regards  us, 
which  is  immediately  connected  with  the 
former,  and  serves,  in  a  most  glorious  manner, 
to  promote  it,  is,  the  salvation  and  happiness 
cf  mankind. 

Though  I  should  not  tell  you  what  is  to  be 
understood  by  the  term  /inppine.is  or  felicity 
m  general,  1  can  not  imagine  any  of  you 
would  be  at  a  loss  about  it.  Yet,  I  shall  give 
a  brief  explication  of  it,  that  you  may  have 
the  more  distinct  ideas  of  the  thing  itself,  and 
the  juster  notions  of  what  is  to  be  further  ad- 
vanced on  the  subject.  Nor  is  there,  indeed, 
any  controversy  on  this  head  ;  for  all  are 
agreed  that  by  the  terms  commonly  used  in 
Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin, t  to  express  hap- 
piness or  felicity,  we  are  to  understand  that 
perfect  and  complete  good,  ivhich  is  suited 
and  adapted  In  intelligent  nature.  I  say  to 
intelligent  nature,  because  the  brute  crea- 
tures can  not  be  said  to  be  happy,  but  in  a 
very  improper  sense.  Happiness  can  not  be 
ascribed  to  horses  or  oxen,  let  them  be  never 
so  well  fed,  and  left  in  the  full  possession  of 
liberty  and  ease.  And  as  good  in  general  is 
peculiar  to  intelligent  beings  ;  so,  more  espe- 
cially, that  perfect  good,  which  constitutes 
felicity  in  k3  full  and  most  extensive  accepta- 
tion. It  is  true,  indeed,  in  common  conver- 
sation, men  are  very  prodisral  of  this  term, 
and,  with  extravagant  levity,  misapply  it  to 
every  common  enjoyment  of  life,  or  apparent 
good  they  meet  with,  especially  such  as  is 
most  suited  to  their  present  exigencies  ;  and 
thus,  as  Aristotle,  in  his  Ethics,  expresses  it, 
'The  sick  person  considers  health,  and  the 
poor  man  riches,  as  the  chief  good."  It  is 
also  true,  that  learned  men,  and  even  the  sa- 
cred Scriptures,  give  the  name  of  felicity  to 
some  symptoms  and  small  beginnings  of  fu- 
ture haj)piiiess.  But,  a£  we  have  already  ob- 
served, this  term,  in  iis  true  and  complete 
sense,  comprehends  in  it  that  absolute  and 
full  perfection  of  good  which  entirely  excludes 
all  uneasiness,  and  brings  with  it  everything 
that  can  contribute  to  satisfaction  and  delight. 
Consequently,  that  good,  whatever  it  be,  that 
most  perfectly  supplies  all  the  wants,  and  sat- 
isfies all  the  cravings  of  our  rational  appetites, 

♦  Postqtiam  posuisti  me  contnirium  tibi,  factus  sum 
contrarius  niihi. 

t  ^iTK  in  Hebrew,  jimafnornf  et  tv^iitfiov'ia  in  Greek, 
felicitas  et  bcaiitvdo  in  Latin. 


is  ohjeclwc  felicity,  the  schools  exprer.s  it 
and  actual,  or  formal  felicity,  is  the  full  pos- 
session and  enjoyment  of  that  complete  and 
chief  oood.  It  consists  of  a  perfect  tranquil- 
lity of  the  mind,  and  not  a  dull  and  stupid  in- 
dolence, like  the  calm  that  reigns  in  the  Dead 
sea  ;  but  such  a  piece  ol'  mind  as  is  lively, 
active,  and  constantly  attended  with  the 
purest  joy  :  not  a  mere  absence  of  uneasines* 
and  pam  ;  -out  such  a  jierfect  ease  as  is  con. 
stantly  accompanied  with  the  most  perfect 
satisfaction,  and  supreme  delight ;  and  if  the 
term  had  not  been  degraded  by  the  mean  uses 
to  which  it  has  been  i)rostituted,  I  should  not 
scruple  to  call  it  pleasure.*  And,  indeed,  we 
may  still  call  it  by  this  name,  provided  we  pu- 
rify the  term,  and  guard  it  by  the  following 
limitations;  so  as  to  understand  by  I'elicity, 
such  a  pleasure  as  is  perfect,  constant,  pure, 
spiritual,  and  divine.  For  never,  since  I  ven- 
tured to  think  upon  such  subjects,  could  I  be 
satisfied  with  the  opinion  of  Aristotle  and  the 
schoolmen,  who  distinguish  between  the  fru- 
ition of  the  chief  good,  which  constitutes  true 
felicity,  aud  the  delight  and  satisfaction  at- 
tending that  fruition  :  because,  at  this  rate, 
that  good  would  not  be  the  ultimate  end  and 
completion  of  our  desires,  nor  desired  on  its 
own  account  :  ibr  whatever  good  we  wish  to 
possess,  the  end  of  our  wishing  is,  that  we 
may  enjoy  it  with  tranquillity  and  delight  ; 
and  this  uninterrupted  delight  or  satisfaction, 
which  admits  of  no  alloy,  is,  love  in  posses- 
sion of  the  beloved  object,  and  at  the  height 
of  its  ambition. 


LECTURE  III. 

HAPPINESS  OF  MAN,  AND  THAT  IT  IS  REALLY 
TO  BE  FOUND. 

You  will  not,  I  imagine,  be  offended,  nor 
think  I  intend  to  insult  you,  because  1  have  once 
and  again,  with  great  earnestness  and  sincer- 
ity, wished  you  and  myself  a  sound  and  seri- 
ous temper  of  mind  :  for,  if  we  may  represent 
things  as  they  really  are,  very  few  men  are 
possessed  of  so  valuable  a  blessing.  The  far 
greater  part  of  them  are  intoxicated  either 
with  the  pleasures  or  the  cares  of  this  world  ; 
they  stagger  about  with  a  tottering  and  un- 
stable pace  ;  and,  as  Solomon  expresses  it. 
The  labor  of  the  foolish  icearieth  every  one  of 
them :  because  he  hiowelh  not  hoiv  to  go  to 
the  city:  Eccles.  x.  15:— the  heavenly  city 
and  the  vision  of  peace,  which  very  few  have 
a  just  notion  of,  or  are  at  pains  to  seek  after. 
Nay,  they  knownot  what  it  is  they  are  seeking. 
They  flutter  from  one  object  to  another,  and 
live  at  hazard.  They  have  no  certain  harbor 
in  view,  nor  direct  their  course  by  any  fixed 
star.  But  to  him  that  knoweth  not  the  port 
to  which  he  is  bound,  no  wind  can  be  favor- 

•  'H  ivSaiiiovia  fiSinf;  i.KTo.iiliirds  :  Happiness  if 
pleasure  perpotuateL 


HAPPINESS. 


651 


nb.^  ;  neither  can  he  who  has  not  yet  deter- 
mined at  what  mark  he  is  to  shoot,  direct  his 
arrow  aright.  That  this  may  not  be  our 
case,  but  that  we  may  have  a  proper  object 
to  aim  at,  I  propose  to  speak  of  the  chief  end 
of  our  being. 

And  to  begin  at  the  Father  of  Spirits,  or 
pure  intelligences,  God,  blessed  for  ever,  com- 
pletely happy  in  himself  from  all  eternity,  is 
his  own  happiness.  His  self-sufficiency 
['Avrdoxcia],  that  external  and  infinite  satis- 
faction and  complacency  he  has  in  himself,  is 
the  peculiar  and  most  complete  felicity  of  that 
Supreme  Being  who  derives  his  existence 
from  himself,  and  has  given  being  to  every 
thing  else.  Which  Chrysostom  has  well  ex- 
pressed by  saying,  that  "  it  is  God's  peculiar 
property  to  stand  in  need  of  nothing."*  And 
Claudius  Victor  beautifully  describes  him  as 
"  vested  with  all  the  majesty  of  creative  pow- 
er, comprehending  in  his  infinite  mind  all 
the  creatures  to  be  afterward  produced,  hav- 
ing all  the  revolutions  of  time  constantly 
present  to  his  all-seeing  eye,  and  being  an 
immense  and  most  glorious  kingdom  to  him- 
self "t 

Yet  all  we  can  say  of  this  Primary,  Uncre- 
ated Majesty  and  Felicity,  is  but  mere  talking 
to  litile  or  no  sort  of  purpose  :  for  here,  not 
only  words  fail  us,  but  even  thought  is  at  a 
stand,  and  quite  overpowered,  when  we  sur- 
vey the  Supreme,  self-existent  Being, f  per- 
fectly happy  and  glorious  in  the  sole  enjoy- 
ment of  his  own  own  infinite  perfections, 
; Urousfhout  numberless  ages,  without  angels, 
men.  or  any  other  creature:  so  that  ihe  poet 
had  reason  to  say,  "  What  eye  so  strong,  that 
the  matchless  brightness  of  thy  glory  will  not 
da.Z7.\e  it,  and  make  it  close  !"|| 

Let  us,  therefore,  descend  into  ourselves, 
but  with  a  view  to  return  to  him  again  ;  and 
not  only  so,  but  in  such  a  manner,  that  the 
end  and  design  of  our  descending  to  inquire 
into  our  own  situation,  be,  that  we  may,  with 
greater  advantage,  return  and  reascend  to 
God.  For,  if  we  inquire  into  our  own  ulti- 
mate end,  this  disquisition  must  rise  above  all 
other  beings,  and  at  last  terminate  in  him  ; 
because  he  himself  is  that  very  end,  and  out 
of  him,  there  is  neither  beginning  nor  end. 
The  felicity  of  angels,  which  is  an  interme- 
diate degree  of  happiness,  we  shall  not  insist 
OB,  not  only  because  it  is  foreign  to  our  pur- 
pose, but  also,  because  our  felicity  and  theirs 
will  be  found  upon  the  matter,  to  be  precisely 
th€«same. 

Ocoy  ^liXtfrra  tihov  to  dvtv^tti. 
•*  Regnabatqiie  ;  potens  in  majcstatc  creanfll, 
Kt  faci«iida  vidrns,  gignendiiqun  ;  tiicnte  capaci, 
Secula  clespiciens,  ct  qiiicqiiid  tempora  volviint 
Prpsfns  semper  habcns  :  immensum  mole  beata 
Itrgniim  erat  ipse  sibi. 
\  A.vditaijrov  rdv  ffyraj 
li  TtvOi  Hfijja  aofov 

Ov  Kaaiiiarti,         Synos.  Hym.  Tert. 


With  regard  to  our  own  happiness,  we 
shall  first  show,  that  such  happiness  really  ex- 
ists ;  and  next  inquire,  what  it  is,  and  where- 
in it  consists. 

We  assert,  then,  that  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  human  felicity,  and  this  ought  rather  to  be 
taken  for  granted  as  a  matter  unquestionable, 
than  strictly  proved.  But  w^en  I  speak  ot 
human  felicity,  I  am  well  satisfied  you  will 
not  imagine,  I  mean  such  a  happiness  as  may 
be  had  from  human  things,  but  that  I  take 
ihe  term  subjectively,  and  understand  by  i. 
the  happiness  of  man.  Now,  he  who  would 
deny,  that  this  is  not  only  among  the  num- 
ber of  possibles,  but  actually  attained  by  some 
part,  at  least,  of  the  human  race,  would  not 
only  render  himself  unwortliy  of  suclr  happi- 
ness, but  even  of  human  nature  itself;  be- 
cause he  would  thereby  do  all  in  his  power 
to  deprive  it  of  its  highest  expectations  and 
its  greatest  honor  :  but  whoever  allows,  that 
all  things  were  produced  by  the  hand  of  an 
infinitely  wise  Creator,  can  not  possibly  doubt, 
that  man,  the  head  and  ornament  of  all  his 
visible  works,  was  made  cai)able  of  a  proper 
and  suitable  end.  The  principal  beauty  of 
the  creation  consists  in  this,  that  all  things 
in  it  are  disposed  in  the  most  excellent  order, 
and  eve.rv  particular  intended  for  some  noble 
and  suitable  end  ;  and  if  this  could  not  be 
said  of  man,  who  is  the  glory  of  the  visible 
world  what  a  great  deformity  must  it  be, 
how  great  a  gap  in  nature!  And  this  gap 
must  be  the  greater,  in  that,  as  we  have  al- 
ready observed,  man  is  naturally  endued  with 
strong  and  vigorous  desires  toward  such  an 
end.  Yet,  on  this  absurd  supposition,  ail 
such  desires  and  expectations  would  be  vain, 
and  to  no  purpose  ;  and  so,  something  might 
be  said  in  defence  of  that  peevish  and  impa- 
tient expression  which  escaped  the  psalmist 
in  a  fit  of  excessive  sorrow,  and  he  might 
have  an  excuse  for  saying.  Why  hnst  thou 
J7}nile  all  mc/i  in  vain?  Psalm  Ixxxix.  47. 
This  would  not  only  have  been  a  frightful 
gap  in  nature,  but  if  I  am  allowed  so  to 
spiak,  at  this  rate,  the  whole  human  race 
must  have  been  created  in  misery,  and  expos- 
ed to  unavoidable  torments,  from  which  they 
could  never  have  been  relieved,  had  they 
been  formed,  not  only  capable  of  a  good  quite 
unattainable  and  altogether  without  their 
reach,  but  also  with  strong  and  restless  de- 
sires toward  that  impossible  good.  Now,  as 
this  is  by  no  means  to  be  admitted,  tiiere 
must  necessarily  be  some  full,  permanent, 
and  satisfying  good,  that  may  be  attained  by 
man,  and  in  the  possession  of  which  he  must 
be  truly  happy. 

When  we  revolve  these  things  in  our  minds, 
do  we  not  feel  from  within,  a  powerful  im- 
pulse, exciting  us  to  set  aside  all  other  cares, 
that  we  tnay  discover  the  one  chief  good, 
and  attain  to  the  enjoyment  of  it  ?  While  we 
inhabit  these  bodies,  I  own,  we  lie  under  a 
necessity  of  using  corporeal  and  fading  things 


658 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTtmES. 


but  there  is  no  ncce-sity  that  we  sliould  he 
fla'  es  to  our  bellies  anil  the  lusts  of  the  flesh, 
or  have  our  afTeciions  glued  to  iliis  earth  : 
nay,  that  it  should  be  so,  is  the  highest  and 
xnost  intolerable  indignity.  Can  it  he  thought, 
•hat  man  was  born  merely  to  cram  himself 
,vith  victuals  and  drink,  or  gratify  the  other 
ippetitcs  of  a^ody  which  he  has  in  common 
with  the  brutes  \  to  snufT  up  the  wind,  to  en- 
tertain delusive  o.nd  vain  hopes  all  the  days 
of  iiis  life,  and,  when  that  short  scene  of  mad- 
ness is  over,  to  be  laid  in  the  grave,  and  re- 
duced to  its  original  dust  ?  Far  be  it  from 
us  to  draw  such  conclusions :  there  is  ccr- 
lainly  something  beyond  this,  something  so 
great  and  lasting,  that,  in  respect  of  it,  the 
short  point  of  time  we  live  here,  with  all  its 
bustle  of  business  and  pleasures,  is  more  emp- 
ty and  vanishing  than  smoke.  "  I  am  more 
considerable,"  says  one,  "  and  born  to  greater 
matters,  than  to  become  the  slave  of  mv  di- 
minutive body."*  With  how  much  greater 
truth  might  we  speak  thus,  were  we  regene- 
rated from  heaven  I  Let  us  be  ashamed  to 
live  with  our  heads  bowed  down,  like  grovel- 
ling beasts  gazing  upon  the  earth,  or  even  to 
3atch  at  the  vain  and  airy  shadows  of  sci- 
ence, while,  in  the  mean  time,  we  know  not, 
or  do  not  consider,  whence  we  took  our  rise, 
and  whither  we  are  soon  to  return,  what  place 
is  to  receive  our  souls,  when  they  are  set  at 
liberty  from  these  bodily  prisons.  If  it  is  the 
principal  desire  of  your  souls  to  understand 
the  nature  of  this  felicity,  and  the  way  that 
leads  to  it.  search  the  Scripftires  ;  for,  from 
them  alone,  ire  all  think,  or  profes*  to  think, 
we  can  have  eternal  life.  I  exhort  and  be- 
seech you,  never  to  suffer  so  much  as  one  day 
to  pass,  either  through  lazy  nerrliffence  or 
too  much  eagerness  in  inferior  studies,  with- 
out reading  some  part  of  the  sacred  records 
with  a  pious  and  attentive  disposition  of  mind  ; 
still  joining,  with  your  reading,  fervent  prayer, 
that  you  may  thereby  draw  down  that  divine 
light,  without  which  spiritual  things  can  not 
be  read  and  understood.  But  with  this  light 
shining  upon  them,  it  is  not  possible  to  ex- 
press how  much  sweeter  you  will  find  these, 
inspired  writings,  than  Cicero,  Demosthenes, 
Homer,  Aristotle,  and  all  the  other  orators, 
poets,  and  philosophers.  They  reason  about 
an  imaginary  felicity,  and  every  one  in  his 
own  way  advances  some  precarious  and  un- 
certain thoughts  upon  it  ;  but  this  book  alone 
shows  clearly,  and  with  absolute  certainty, 
what  it  is,  and  points  out  the  way  that  lea^s 
to  the  attainment  of  it.  This  is  that  which 
prevailed  ;vith  St.  Augustine  to  study  the 
Scriptures,  and  engajed  his  affections  to 
them.  "  In  Cicero,  and  Plato,  and  other  such 
writers,"  savs  he,  "  I  meet  with  many  things 
wittily  said,  and  things  that  have  a  mode- 
rate tendency  to  move  the  passions  ;  but  in 
none  of  them  Jo  I  find  these  words.  Come  un- 

•  Major  sum,  et  ad  majora  gentius,  quam  ut  sim 
mancipiiim  niei  r  "»isculi. 


to  7ne,  all  ye  that  lahor  and  are  heavy  lad  ^ 
and  I  will  give  you  rest^* 


LECTURE  IV. 

IN  WHICH  IT  IS  PROVED  THAT  HTTMAN  FELICITl 
CAN  NOT  BE  FOUND  EITHER  IN  THE  EARTH  OR 
EARTHLY  THINGS. 

We  are  all  in  quest  of  one  thing,  but  almost 
all  of  us  out  of  the  right  road  :  therefore,  to  be 
sure,  the  longer  and  the  more  swiftly  we 
move  in  a  wrong  path,  the  further  we  depart 
from  the  object  of  our  desires:  and  if  it  is  so, 
we  can  speak  or  think  of  nothing  more  prop- 
er and  seasonable,  than  of  inquirins  about  the 
only  risrht  way,  whereby  we  may  all  come 
"to  see  the  brisht  fountain  of  goodness. "t 
I  know  you  will  remember,  that  on  the  last 
occasion,  we  proposed  the  most  important 
of  all  questions,  viz.,  that  concerning  our  ul- 
timate end,  or  the  way  to  discover  true  hap- 
piness: to  which  we  asserted  that  all  man- 
kind do  aspire  with  a  natural,  and  therefore 
a  constant  and  uniform  ardor  :  or  rather,  we 
supposed,  that  all  are  sufficiently  acquainted 
with  this  happiness,  nay,  really  do,  or  at 
least  may  feel  it  within  them,  if  they  thor- 
oughly know  themselves.  For  this  is  the 
end  of  the  labors  of  men  ;  to  this  tend  all 
their  toils.  This  is  the  general  aim  of  all, 
not  only  of  the  sharp-sighted,  but  the  blear- 
eyed  and  short-sig-hted  :  nay  even  of  those  that 
are  quite  blind,  who  thoujih  they  can  not  see 
the  mark  they  propose  to  themselves,  yet  are 
in  hopes  of  reaching  it  at  last :  that  is  to  say, 
thousrh  their  ideas  of  it  are  very  confused  and 
imperfect,  they  all  desire  happiness  in  the  ob- 
vious sense  of  the  word.  We  have  also  ob- 
served, that  this  term,  in  its  general  accepta- 
tion, imports  that  full  and  perfect  good  which 
is  suited  to  intellisent  nature. t  It  is  not  to 
be  doubted  but  the  felicity  of  the  Diety,  as 
well  as  his  being,  is  in  himself,  and  from  him- 
self. But  our  inquiry  is  concerning  our  own 
happiness.  We  also  positively  determined, 
that  there  is  some  blessed  end  suited  and 
adapted  to  our  nature,  and  that  this  can  by  no 
means  he  denied  :  for  since  all  parts  of  the 
universe  have  proper  ends  suited  and  adapt- 
ed to  their  natures,  that  the  most  noble  and 
excellent  creature  of  the  whole  sublunary 
world  should  in  this  be  defective,  and  there- 
fore created  in  vain,  would  be  so  great  a  sol- 
ecism, such  a  deformity  in  the  whole  fabric, 
and  so  unworthy  of  the  supreme  and  all-wise 
Creator,  that  it  can  by  no  means  be  admitted, 
nor  even  so  much  as  imagined.  This  point 
being  settled,  viz.,  that  there  is  some  deter- 

•  A  pud  Ciceronem  et  Platonom,  aliosque  ojusmodi 
scriptorps,  miilta  sunt  acute  dicta,  et  leniter  calentias 
sod  in  iis  omnibus  hoc  non  invenio,  Venite  ad  ne,  itc. 
[Matt.  xi.  28.J 

t  Iloni  fontem  visere  lucidum. 

\  YlpuTdy  Tt,  e^^ardy  tc,  koi  iilyitxTov  k  1X611, 


HAPPINESS. 


653 


mmate  ^ood,  in  the  possession  whereof  the  I 
mind  of  man  may  be  fully  satisfied  and  at  | 
perfect  rest,  we  now  proceed  to  inquire  wha  I 
this  good  is,  and  where  it  may  be  found. 

The  first  thing,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
very  considerable  siep  toward  this  discovery, 
will  be  to  show  where  and  in  what  things 
this  perfect  good  is  not  to  be  found  ;  not  only 
because  this  point  being  settled,  it  will  be 
easier  to  determine  wherein  it  actually  con- 
sists ;  nay,  the  latter  will  naturally  flow  from 
the  former  ;  but  also  because,  as  has  been  ob- 
served, we  shall  find  the  far  greater  part  of 
mankind  pursuing  vain  shadows  and  phan- 
toms of  happiness,  and,  throughout  their 
whole  lives,  wandering  in  a  great  variety  of 
by-paths,  seeking  the  way  to  make  a  proper 
improvement  of  life,  almost  always  hunting 
for  that  chief  good  where  it  is  not  to  be 
found.  They  must  first  be  recalled  from  this 
rambling  and  fruitless  course,  before  they 
can  possibly  be  directed  into  the  right  road. 
1  shall  not  spin  out  this  neirative  proposition 
by  dividing  the  subject  of  it  inio  several 
branches,  and  insisting  separately  upon  every 
one  of  them;  but  consider  all  these  errors 
and  mistakes,  both  vulvar  and  practical, 
speculative  and  philosophical,  however  nu- 
merous they  may  be,  as  comprehended  under 
one  general  head,  and  fully  obviate  them  all 
by  one  single  proposition,  which,  with  Di- 
vine assistance,  I  shall  explain  to  you  in  this 
lecture,  and  that  very  briefly. 

The  proposition  is,  that  human  felicity,  or 
that  full  and  cam[)lete  good  that  is  suited  to 
the  nature  of  man,  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
earth,  nor  in  earihly  ihings. 

Now,  what  if  instead  of  further  proof  or 
illustration,  I  should  only  say— If  this  per- 
fect felicity  is  to  be  found  within  this  visible 
world,  or  the  verge  of  this  earthly  life,  let 
him,  I  pray,  who  hath  found  it  out,  stand 
forth  ;  let  him  tell  who  can,  what  star,  of 
whatever  magnimde,  what  constellation  or 
combination  of  siaij,  has  so  favorable  an  as- 
pect, and  so  benign  an  influence,  or  what  is 
that  singular  good,  or  assemblage  of  good 
things  in  this  earth,  that  can  confer  upon 
mankind  a  happy  life.  All  ihings  that,  like 
bright  stars,  have  hitherto  attracted  the  eyes 
of  men,  vanishing  in  a  few  days,  have  proved 
themselves  to  be  comets,  not  only  of  no  be- 
nign, but  even  of  pernicious  influence  :  ac- 
cording to  the  saying,  "There  is  no  comet 
but  what  brings  some  mischief  along  with 
it."*  All  ihat  have  ever  lived  during  so  many 
ages  that  the  world  has  hitherto  lasted,  no- 
ble and  ignoble,  learned  and  unlearned,  fools 
and  wise  men,  have  gone  in  search  of  hap- 
yiness :  has  ever  any  one  of  them  all,  in 
limes  past,  or  is  there  any  one  at  this  day 
that  has  said,  Euo,,/fo,  I  have  found  it?  Dif- 
ferent men  have  given  different  definitions 
and  descriptions  of  it,  and  according  to  their 
various  turns  of  mind,  have  painted  it  in  a 


great  variety  of  shapes  ;  but,  since  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world,  there  has  not  been  so 
much  as  one  who  ever  pretended  to  say. 
Here  it  is,  I  have  it,  and  have  attained  the 
full  possession  of  it.  Even  those  from  whom 
most  was  to  be  expected,  men  of  the  utmost 
penetration,  and  most  properly  qualified  for 
such  researches,  after  all  their  labor  and  in- 
dustry, have  acknowledged  their  disappoint- 
ment, and  that  they  have  not  found  it.  But 
it  would  be  wonderful  indeed,  that  there 
should  be  any  good  suited  to  human  nature, 
and  to  which  mankind  were  born,  and  yet 
that  it  never  fell  to  the  share  of  any  one  in- 
dividual of  the  sons  of  men :  unless  it  be 
said,  that  the  things  of  life,  in  this  respect, 
resemble  the  speculations  of  the  schools; 
and  that,  as  they  talk  about  objects  of  knowl- 
edge that  were  never  known,  so  there  is 
some  good  attainable  by  men,  which  was 
never  actually  attained. 

But  to  look  a  little  more  narrowly  into  this 
matter,  and  take  a  transient  view  of  the  sev- 
eral periods  of  life.  Infants  are  so  far  from 
attaining  to  happiness,  that  they  have  not 
yet  arrived  at  human  life  ;  yet,  if  they  are 
compared  with  those  of  riper  years,  they  are 
in  a  low  and  imprciper  sense,  with  regard  to 
two  things,  innocence  and  ignorance,  hap- 
pier than  men  ;  for  there  is  nothing  that 
years  add  to  infancy  so  invariably,  and  in  so 
great  abundance,  as  guilt  and  pollution  ;  and 
the  experience  and  knowledge  of  the  world 
which  thev  give  us,  do  not  so  much  inijirove 
the  head,  as  they  vex  and  distress  the  heart. 
So  that  the  great  man  represented  in  the 
tragedy  embracing  his  infant  who  knew  noth- 
ing of  his  own  misery,  seems  to  have  had 
some  reason  to  say,  that  "  those  who  know 
nothing  enjoy  the  hap|)iest  life."*  And  to  be 
sure,  what  we  gain  by  our  [)rogress  from  in- 
fancy to  youth,  is  that  we  thereby  become 
more  exposed  to  the  miseries  of  life,  and,  as 
we  improve  in  the  knowledge  of  things,  our 
pains  and  torments  are  also  increased  ;  for 
either  children  are  put  to  servile  employ- 
ments, or  mechanic  arts  ;  or  if  they  happen 
to  have  a  more  genteel  and  liberal  education, 
this  very  thing  turns  to  a  i)unishment,  as  they 
are  thereby  subjected  to  rods  and  chastise- 
ments, and  thei  power  of  parents  and  instruc- 
ters,  which  is  often  a  kind  of  petty  tyranny  ; 
and  when  the  yoke  is  lightened  with  the 
greatest  prudence,  it  still  seems  hard  to  be 
borne,  as  it  is  above  the  capacity  of  their 
young  minds,  thwarts  their  wishes  and  incli- 
nations, and  encroaches  upon  their  beloved 
liberty. 

Youth,  put  in  full  possession  of  this  liberty, 
for  the  most  part  ceases  to  be  master  of  itself ; 
nor  can  it  be  truly  said  to  be  delivered  from 
its  former  misery,  as  to  exchange  it  for  a 
worse,  even  that  very  liberty.  It  leaves  the 
harbor  to  sail  through  quicksands  and  sirens  ; 
and  when  both   these  are  passed,  launches 


3.54 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


DUi  iiuo  the  deep  sea.  Alas  !  to  what  vari- 
ous fates  is  it  there  exposed  !  How  many 
.V)nirary  winds  does  ii  meet  with  !  How  many 
ptoniis  throaicning  it  witli  *hi])wrecl{ !  How 
many  sliocks  has  it  to  bear  fioni  avarice,  am- 
bition, and  envy,  either  in  consequence  of 
the  violent  stirriugrs  of  those  passions  within 
itsell,  or  the  tierce  attaclvs  of  them  from  with- 
out !  Amid  all  these  tempests,  the  siiip  is 
eitiier  early  overwiielmed,  or  brolcen  by 
storms  ;  and  woru  out  by  old  age,  at  last 
falls  to  pieces. 

Nor  docs  it  much  signify  what  state  of 
life  one  enters  into,  or  what  rank  he  holds  in 
human  society  ;  for  all  forms  of  business  and 
conditions  of  life,  however  various  you  may 
suppose  them  to  be,  are  exjjosed  to  a  much 
greater  variety  of  troublesand  distresses,  some 
to  pressures  more  numerous  and  more  griev- 
ous than  others,  but  all  to  a  great  many,  and 
every  one  to  some  peculiar  to  itself.  If  you 
devote  yourself  to  ease  and  retirement,  you 
can  not  avoid  the  reproach  and  uneasiness 
that  constantly  attend  an  indolent,  a  useless, 
and  lazy  life.  If  you  engage  in  business, 
whatever  it  be,  wliether  you  commence 
merchant,  soldier,  farmer,  or  lawyer,  you  al- 
ways meet  with  toil  and  hazard,  and  often 
with  heavy  misfortunes  and  losses.  Celibacy 
exposes  to  solitude;  marriage,  to  solicitude 
and  cares.  Without  learning,  you  appear 
plain  and  unpolished  ;  but  on  the  other  hand, 
the  study  of  letters  is  a  matter  of  immense 
labor,  and,  for  the  most  part,  brings  in  but 
very  little,  either  with  regard  to  the  knowl- 
edge you  acquire  by  it,  or  the  conveniences 
of  life  it  procures.  But  I  will  enlarge  no  fur- 
ther. You  find  the  Greek  and  Latin  poets 
lamenting  the  calamities  of  life  in  many 
parts  of  their  works,  and  at  great  length  : 
nor  do  they  exaggerate  in  the  least ;  they 
even  fall  short  of  the  truth,  and  only  enu- 
merate a  few  evils  out  of  many. 

The  Greek  epigram  ascribed  by  some  to 
Prosidipus,  by  others  to  Crates  the  cynic 
philosopher,  begins  thus,  "  Wliat  state  of 
life  ought  one  to  choose  ?"  and  having  enu- 
merated them  all,  concludes  in  this  manner: 
"There  are  then  only  two  things  eligible, ei- 
ther never  lo  have  been  born,  or  to  die  as  soon 
as  one  makes  his  appearance  in  the  world."* 
But  now,  leaving  the  various  periods  and 
conditions  of  life,  let  us,  wiiii  great  brevity, 
run  over  those  things  which  are  looked  upon 
to  be  the  greatest  blessings  in  it,  and  see 
whether  any  of  ihem  can  make  it  completely 
happy.  Can  this  be  expected  from  a  beauti- 
ful outside?  No;  this  has  rendered  many 
miserable,  but  never  made  one  happy.  For 
suppose  it  to  be  sometimes  attended  with  in- 
nocence, it  is  surely  of  a  fadin<i  and  perish- 
ing nature,  "  the  sport  of  time  or  disease. "t 
Can  it  be  expected  from  riches  ?    Surely  no  ; 

*  YlotT}V  rot  (it/}TQio  ra/jotf  rpif^nv, — Kor'  a/Joj  toTv 
hoTf  svoi  Sip£(r(s  r)  t6  ytvcadai  jiiiiiroT  ri  ffavcTv  avrUa 
rtKTCiiaivov* 

t  XpoVoK  /)  v6aov  Tatyvcof • 


for  how  little  of  them  does  the  owner  pos- 
sess, even  supposing  liis  wealth  to  be  ever  so 
great !  What  a  small  part  of  tlicm  does  he 
use  or  enjoy  himsell  !  And  what  has  he  of  the 
rest  but  the  jileasure  of  seeing  them  with  his 
eyes?  Let  his  table  be  loaded  with  the 
greatest  variety  of  delicious  dishes,  he  fills 
his  belly  out  of  one:  and  if  he  has  a  hun- 
dred beds,  he  lies  but  in  one  of  them.  Can 
the  kingdoms,  thrones,  and  sceptres  of  this 
world,  collier  hapjiiness  ?  No:  we  learn 
from  the  histories  of  all  ages,  that  not  a  few 
have  been  tumbled  down  from  these  by  sud- 
den and  unexpected  revolutions,  and  those 
not  such  as  were  void  of  conduct  or  courage, 
but  men  of  great  and  extraordinary  abilities. 
And  that  those  who  met  with  no  such  mis- 
fortunes, were  still  far  enough  from  happi- 
ness, is  very  plain  from  the  situation  of  their 
aflairs,  and  in  many  cases,  from  their  own 
confession.  The  saying  of  Augustus  is  well 
known  :  "  I  wisli  I  had  never  been  married, 
and  had  died  childless.''*  And  the  expres- 
sion of  Severus  at  his  death,  "  I  became  all 
tilings,  and  yet  it  does  not  profit  me."t  But 
the  most  noted  saying  of  all,  and  that  which 
best  deserves  to  be  known,  is  that  of  the 
wisest  and  most  flourishing  king,  as  well  as 
the  greatest  preacher,  who,  having  exactly 
computed  all  the  advantages  of  his  exalted 
diarnity  and  royal  opulence,  Ibund  this  to  be 
the  sum  total  of  all,  and  left  it  on  record  for 
the  inspection  of  posterity  and  future  ages, 
Vanrly  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity. 

All  this  may  possibly  be  true  with  regard 
to  the  external  advantages  of  men  ;  but  may 
not  happiness  be  found  in  the  internal  goods 
of  the  mind,  such  as  wisdom  and  virtue? 
Suppose  this  granted;  still  that  they  may 
confer  perfect  felicity,  they  must  of  necessi- 
ty be  perfect  themselves.  Now,  show  me 
the  man,  who,  even  in  his  own  judgment, 
has  attained  to  perfection  in  wisdom  and  vir- 
tue :  even  those  who  were  accounted  the 
wisest,  and  actually  were  so,  acknowledged 
they  knew  nothing:  nor  was  there  one 
among  the  most  approved  philosophers, 
whose  virtues  were  not  allayed  with  many 
blemishes.  The  same  must  be  said  of  piety 
and  true  religion,  which,  though  it  is  the  be- 
ginning of  felicity,  and  tends  directly  to  per- 
fection, yet,  as  in  this  earth  it  is  not  full  and 
complete  in  itself,  it  can  no;  make  its  posses- 
sors perfectly  happy.  The  knowledge  of  the 
most  exalted  minds  is  very  obscure,  and  al- 
most quite  dark,  and  their  practice  of  virtue 
lame  and  imperfect.  And  indeed,  who  can 
have  the  boldness  to  boast  of  perfection  in 
this  respect,  when  he  hears  the  great  apostle 
complaining  of  the  law  of  the  flesh,  and  pa- 
thetically exclaiming,  Who  shall  deliver  me 
from  this  body  of  death  ?  Rom.  vii.  24.  Be- 
sides, though  wisdom  and  virtue,  or  piety 
were  perfect,  so  long  as  we  have  bodies,  we 
must  at  the  same  time  have  all  bodily  advan- 

*  'Aifl'  i'^cXoK  ayafi6s  t  tfisvai  ayov6f  t  dnoXcuai. 
I      t  Jluvra  tyev6iini  Koi  oi  XtioircXtu 


IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL. 


655 


:ages,  in  ordt  •  to  perfect  felicity.  There- 
fore the  satiriit  smarily  ridicules  tiie  wise 
man  of  tiie  stoics  :  "  He  is,"  says  he,  "  free, 
honored,  beautiful,  king-  of  kings,  and  par- 
ticularly happy,  except  when  he  is  troubled 
with  phlegm.'"* 

Since  these  things  are  so,  we  must  raise 
our  minds  higher,  and  not  live  with  our  heads 
oowed  down  like  the  common  sort  of  man- 
kind :  who,  as  St.  Augustine  expresses  it, 
"  look  for  a  happy  life  in  the  region  of 
death. "t  To  set  our  hearts  upon  the  perish- 
ing goods  of  this  wretched  life  and  its  muddy 
pleasures,  is  not  ihe  happiness  of  men,  but  of 
hogs.  And  if  pleasure  is  dirt,  other  things 
are  but  smoke.  Were  this  the  only  good  pro- 
posed to  the  desires  and  hopes  of  men,  it 
would  not  have  been  so  great  a  privilege  to 
have  been  born.  Be  therefore  advised,  young 
gentlemen,  and  beware  of  this  poisonous  cup, 
lest  your  minds  thereby  become  brutish,  and 
fall  into  a  fatal  oblivion  of  your  original,  aiid 
your  end.  Turn  that  part  of  your  composi- 
tion which  is  Divine,  to  God  its  creator  and 
father,  without  whom  we  can  neither  be  hap- 
py, nor  indeed  be  at  all. 


LECTURE  V. 

IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOtJL. 

There  are  many  things  that  keep  mankind 
employed,  particularly  business,  or  rather  tri- 
fles; for  so  the  affairs  which  are  in  this  world 
considered  as  m<jst  important,  ought  to  be  call- 
ed, when  compared  with  that  of  minding  our 
ow^n  valuable  concerns,  knowing  ourselves, 
"nd  truly  con.-ulting  our  highest  niterest  ;  but 
how  few  are  there  that  make  this  their  study  ? 
The  definition  you  commonly  give  of  man,  is, 
that  he  is  a  rational  creature  ;  though,  to  be 
sure,  it  is  not  applicable  to  the  generality  of 
mankind,  unless  you  understand,  that  they 
are  such,  not  actually,  but  in  power  only,  and 
that  Very  remote.  They  are,  f(jr  the  most 
part  at  least,  more  silly  and  foolish  than  chil- 
dren, and,  like  them,  fond  of  toys  and  rattles  : 
they  fatigue  themselves,  running  about  and 
sauntering  from  place  to  place,  but  do  noth- 
ing to  purpose. 

What  a  wonder  it  is,  that  souls  of  a  heaven- 
ly original  have  so  far  forgot  their  native 
country,  and  are  so  immersed  in  dirt  and  mud, 
that  there  are  few  men  who  frequently  con- 
verse with  themselves  about  their  own  state, 
blinking  gravely  of  their  original  and  their 
end,  seriously  laying  to  heart,  that  as  the 
poet  expresses  it,  "  good  and  evil  are  set  be- 
fore mankind  and  who  after  mature  con- 
sideration, not  only  think  it  the  most  wise  and 
reasonable  course,  but  are  also  fully  resolved 
to  exert  themselves  to  the  utmost,  in  order  to 

•  Dives, 

Libpf,  honoratHS,  piilchor,  rex  dimique  re^m, 
Prcoipiie  ffplix,nisi  cum  pitiiita  molcsta  est. 

f  Bcatam  vit  nn  qii:i'riint  in  regione  mortis. 

X  ^Iri  rot  av6^tt}iruiai  xaKov  t  a'/a96v  re  nrvKrai* 


arrive  at  a  sovereign  contempt  of  earthly 
things,  and  aspire  to  those  enjoyments  that 
are  Divine  and  eternal.  For  our  parts,  I  am 
fully  persuaded  we  shall  be  of  this  mind,  if 
we  seriously  reflect  upon  what  has  been  said. 
For  il'  there  is,  of  necessity,  a  complete,  per- 
manent, and  satisfying  good  intended  for  man, 
and  no  such  good  is  to  be  found  in  the  earth 
or  earthly  things,  we  must  proceed  farther, 
and  look  for  it  somewhere  else  ;  and,  in  conse- 
quence of  this,  conclude,  that  man  is  not  quite 
extinguished  by  death,  but  removes  to  another 
place,  and  that  the  human  soul  is  by  all  means 
immortal. 

Alany  men  have  added  a  great  variety  of 
differentarguments  to  support  this  conclusion, 
some  of  them  strong  and  solid,  and  others,  to 
speak  freely,  too  metaphysical,  and  of  little 
strength,  especially  as  they  are  as  obscure, 
as  easily  denied,  and  as  hard  to  be  proved,  as 
that  very  conclusion,  in  support  of  which  they 
are  adduced. 

They  who  reason  from  the  immaterial  na- 
ture of  the  soul,  and  from  its  being  infused 
into  the  body,  as  also  from  its  method  of  ope- 
ration, whicii  is  confined  to  none  of  the  bodily 
organs,  may  easily  prevail  with  those  who 
believe  these  principles,  to  admit  the  truth 
of  the  conclusion  they  want  to  draw  from 
them  ;  but  if  they  meet  with  any  who  obsti- 
nately deny  the  premises,  or  even  doubt  the 
truth  of  them,  it  will  be  a  matter  of  difficulty 
to  support  such  hypotheses  with  clear  and 
conclusive  arguments.  If  the  soul  of  man 
was  well  acquainted  with  itself,  and  fully 
understood  its  own  nature,  if  it  could  investi- 
gate the  nature  of  its  union  with  the  body, 
and  the  method  of  its  operation  therein,  we 
doubt  not  but  thence  it  mi<rht  draw  these 
and  other  such  arguments  of  its  immortality  ; 
but  since,  shut  up  in  the  prison  of  a  dark  body, 
it  is  so  little  known,  and  so  incomprehensible 
to  itself,  and  since,  in  so  great  obscurity,  it 
can  scarce,  if  at  all,  discover  the  least  of  its 
own  features  and  complexion,  it  would  be  a 
very  difficult  matter  for  it  to  say  much  con- 
cerniiii;  iis  internal  nature,  or  nicely  determine 
the  methods  of  its  operation.  But  it  would 
be  surj)rising,  if  any  one  should  deny,  that  the 
very  uperations  it  performs,  especially  those 
of  the  more  noble  and  exalted  sort,  are  strong 
marks  and  cons[)icuous  characters  of  its  ex- 
cellence and  immortality. 
I  Nothing  is  more  evident  than  'hat,  besides 
life,  and  sense,  and  animal  spirits,  which  he 
has  in  common  with  the  brutes,  there  is  in 
man  something  more  exalted,  more  pure,  and 
that  more  nearly  a|)proaches  to  Divinity. 
God  has  given  to  the  former  a  sensitive  soul, 
but  to  us  a  mind  also:  and,  to  speak  distinct- 
ly, that  s[)irit  which  is  peculiar  to  man,  and 
whereby  he  is  raised  above  all  other  animals, 
I  ought  to  be  called  mind  rather  than  soul.* 
Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  hardly  possible  to  say, 
'  how  vastly  the  human  mind  excels  the  other 
I  with  regard  to  its  wonderful  powers,  and  next 
I       *  Animus  potius  dicciiduii  est  quam  uniroa. 


C56 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


to  thorn,  with  respect  to  its  works,  devices, 
and  inventions.  For  it  i)ertbrnis  such  great 
and  wonderful  things,  tiiat  the  brutes,  even 
those  of  the  greatest  sagacity,  can  neitiier 
imitate,  nor  at  all  understand,  much  less  in- 
vent. A'ay.  man,  tiiough  he  is  much  less  in 
bulk,  and  inferior  in  strength  to  the  greatest 
part  of  them,  yet,  as  lord  and  king  of  them 
all,  he  can,  by  surprising  means,  bend  and 
ajiply  the  strength  and  industry  of  all  the 
other  creatures,  the  virtues  of  all  herbs  and 
plants,  and.  in  a  word,  all  the  parisand  powers 
of  this  visible  world,  to  the  convenience  and 
accommodation  of  his  own  life.  He  also 
builds  cities,  erects  commonwealths,  makes 
la  ivs,  conducts  armies,  fits  out  fleets,  measures 
not  only  the  earth,  but  the  heavens  also,  and 
in'fesiigates  the  motions  of  the  stars.  He 
fot  etells  eclipses  many  years  before  they  hap- 
pen ;  and,  with  very  little  difficulty,  sends  his 
thoughts  to  a  great  distance,  liids  them  visit 
the  remotest  cities  and  countries,  mount  above 
the  sun  and  the  stars,  and  even  the  heavens 
themselves. 

But  all  these  things  are  inconsiderable,  and 
contribute  but  little  to  our  present  purpose,  in 
respect  of  that  one  incomparable  dignity  that 
results  to  the  human  mind  from  its  being 
capable  of  religion,  and  having  indelible 
characters  thereof  naturally  stamped  upon  it. 
It  acknowledges  a  (iod,  and  worships  him; 
it  builds  temples  to  his  honor  ;  it  celebrates 
his  never  enough  exalted  majesty  with  sacri- 
fices, prayers,  and  praises ;  depends  upon  his 
bounty  ;  implores  his  aid  ;  and  so  carries  on 
a  constant  correspondence  with  heaven:  and, 
which  is  a  very  strong  proof  of  its  being 
originally  from  heaven,  it  hopes  at  last  to  re- 
turn to  it.  And,  truly,  in  my  judgment,  this 
previous  impression  and  hope  of  immorialiiy, 
and  these  earnest  desires  after  it,  are  a  very 
strong  evidence  of  that  immortality.  These 
impressions,  though  in  most  men  they  lie 
overpowered  and  almost  quite  extinguished 
by  the  weight  of  their  bodies,  and  an  extrav- 
agant love  to  present  enjoyments;  yet,  now 
and  then,  in  time  of  ad  versity,  break  forth  and 
exert  themselves,  especially  under  the  pres- 
sure of  severe  distempers,  and  at  the  approaches 
of  death.  But  those  whose  minds  are  purifi- 
ed, and  their  thoughts  habituated  to  Divine 
things,  with  what  constant  and  ardent  wishes 
do  they  breathe  after  that  blessed  immortali- 
ty !  How  often  do  their  souls  complain  with- 
in them,  that  they  have  dwelt  so  long  in  these 
earthly  tabernacles !  Like  exiles,  they  earnest- 
ly wish,  make  interest,  and  struggle  hard  to 
regain  their  native  country.  Moreover  does 
not  that  noble  neglect  of  the  body  and  its 
senses,  and  that  contempt  of  all  the  pleasures 
of  the  flesh,  which  these  heavenly  souls  have 
attained,  evidently  show,  that,  in  a  short  time, 
they  will  be  taken  hence,  and  that  the  b(jdy 
and  soul  are  of  a  very  difli'erent,  and  almost 
contrarv  nature  to  one  another  ;  that,  there- 
fore, the  duration  of  the  one  depends  not  upon 
the  other,  but  is  quite  of  another  kind  ;  and 


that  the  soul,  set  at  liberty  from  the  body,  it 
not  only  exempted  from  death,  but,  in  som" 
sense,  then  begins  to  live,  and  then  first  seei 
the  light?  Had  we  not  this  hope  to  support 
us,  what  ground  should  we  have  to  lazieai 
our  (irst  nativity,  which  placed  us  in  a  Ai'e  so 
short,  so  destitute  ol'  good,  and  so  crowded 
with  miseries;  a  life  which  we  pass  entirely 
in  grasping  phantoms  of  felicity,  and  suffering 
real  calamities!  So  that  if  iliere  were  not, 
beyond  this,  a  life  and  happiness  that  more 
truly  deserves  these  names,  who  can  help 
seeing,  that,  of  all  creatures,  man  would  be 
the  most  miserable,  and,  of  all  men,  the  best 
the  most  unhappy  ? 

For,  although  every  wise  man  looks  upon 
the  belief  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  as 
one  of  the  great  and  ])i  incipal  sujjports  of  re- 
ligion, there  may  possibly  be  some  rare,  ex- 
alted, and  truly  divine  minds,  who  would 
choose  the  pure  and  noble  path  of  virtue  for 
its  own  sake,  would  constantly  walk  a  it, 
and  out  of  love  to  it,  would  not  decline  the 
severest  hardships,  ii'  they  should  happen  to 
be  exposed  to  them  on  its  account.  Yet  it 
can  not  be  denied,  that  the  common  sort  of 
Christians,  though  they  are  really  and  at  heart 
sound  believers  and  true  Christians,  fall  very 
far  short  of  this  attainment,  and  would  scarce- 
ly, if  at  all,  embrace  virtue  and  religion,  if 
you  take  away  the  rewards  ;  which  I  think 
the  Apostle  Paul  hints  at  in  this  expression, 
If  in  this  life  oiily  rve  have  hope,  we  are  of  all 
men  the  most  miserable.  1  Cor.  xv.  19.  The 
apostle,  indeed,  does  not  intend  these  words 
as  a  direct  proof  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul 
in  a  separate  state,  but  an  argument  to  prove 
the  resurrection  of  the  body  ;  which  is  a  doc- 
trine near  akin,  and  closely  connected  with 
the  former.  For  that  great  restoration  is 
added  as  an  instance  of  the  superabundance 
and  immensity  of  the  Divine  goodness,  whose 
pleasure  it  is,  that  not  only  the  better  and 
more  divine  part  of  man,  which,  upon  its  re- 
turn to  its  original  source,  is,  without  the 
body,  capable  of  enjoying  a  perfectly  happy 
and  eternal  life,  should  have  a  glorious  im- 
mortality, but  also  that  this  earthly  tabernacle, 
as  being  the  faithful  attendant  and  constant 
companion  of  the  soul  through  all  its  toils  and 
labors  in  this  world,  be  also  admitted  to  a 
share  and  participation  of  its  heavenly  and 
eternal  felicity  ;  that  so,  according  to  our 
Lord's  expression,  every  faithful  soul  may 
have  returned  into  its  bosom,  good  measure, 
pressed  down,  shaken  together,  and  running 
over.   Luke  vi.  38. 

Let  our  belief  of  this  immortality  be  found- 
ed entirely  on  Divine  Revelation,  and  then 
like  a  city  fortified  with  a  rampart  of  earth 
drawn  round  it,  let  it  be  outwardly  guarded 
and  defended  by  reason  ;  which  in  this  case, 
suggests  arguments  as  strong  and  convincing 
as  the  subject  will  admit  of  If  any  one,  ir 
the  present  case,  promises  demonstration,  his 
I  undertaking  is  certainly  too  much,  if  he  de- 
I  sires  or  expects  it  from  anotheri  he  requir*"! 


IMMORTALITY 

too  much.  There  are,  indeed,  very  few  dem- 
onstrations in  philosophy,  if  you  except 
mathematical  sciences,  that  can  be  truly  and 
strictly  so  called,  and,  if  we  inquire  narrowly 
into  the  matter,  perhaps  we  shall  find  none 
at  ail  :  nay,  if  even  the  mathematical  demon- 
strations are  examined  by  the  strict  rules  and 
ideas  of  Aristotle,  the  greaiest  part  of  the;n 
will  be  found  imperfect  and  defective.  The 
laying  of  that  philosopher  is,  therefore,  wise 
»nd  ap[ilicable  to  many  cases:  "  Demonstra- 
tions are  not  to  be  expected  in  all  cases,  but 
•o  far  as  the  subject  will  admit  of  tliem."* 
But  II  we  were  well  acquainted  with  the  na- 
ture and  essence  of  the  soul,  or  even  its  precise 
method  of  operation  on  the  body,  it  is  highly 
orobable  we  could  draw  thence  evident  and 
indenial)le  demonstrations  of  that  immor- 
iality  which  we  are  now  asserting  :  whereas, 
»o  long  as  the  mind  of  man  is  so  little  acquaint- 
«d  with  its  own  naiure,  we  must  not  expect 
my  such. 

But  that  unquenchable  thirst  of  the  soul, 
vhich  we  have  already  mentioned,  is  a  strong 
■>roof  of  its  Divine  nature  :  a  thirst  not  to  be 
lUayed  with  the  impure  and  turbid  waters  of 
»ny  earthly  good,  or  of  all  worldy  enjoyments 
laken  together.  It  thirsts  after  the  never- 
ailing  fountain  of  good,  according  to  that  of 
ihe  psalmist,  As  the  hart  pnnleth  aftpr  the 
valrr-brooks  :  it  thirsts  after  a  good,  invisible, 
immaterial,  and  immortal,  to  the  enjoyment 
whereof  the  ministry  of  a  body  is  so  far  from 
oeing  absolutely  necessary,  that  it  feels  iiself 
shui  up  and  confined  by  that  tci  which  it  is  now 
united,  as  by  a  partition-wall,  and  groans  un- 
der the  pressure  of  it.  And  those  souls  that 
ire  quite  insensible  of  this  thirst,  are  certainly 
buried  in  the  bodv,  as  in  the  carcass  of  an 
impure  hog  ;  nor  have  they  so  entirely  divest- 
ed themselves  of  this  appetite  we  have  men- 
tioned, nor  can  they  possibly  so^ivest  them- 
selves of  it,  as  not  to  feel  it  severely,  to  their 
great  misery,  sooner  or  later,  eitlier  when 
ihey  awake  out  of  their  lethargy  within  the 
body,  or  when  ihey  are  obliged  to  leave  it. 
To  conclude:  Nobody,  I  believe,  will  deny, 
that  we  are  to  form  our  judgment  of  the  true 
nature  of  the  human  mind,  not  from  the  sloih 
and  stupidity  of  the  most  degenerate  and 
rilest  of  men,  but  from  the  sentiments  and 
lervent  desires  of  the  best  and  wisest  of  the 
species. 

These  sentiments  concerning  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  in  its  future  existence,  not 
only  include  no  impossibility  or  absurdity  in 
them,  but  are  also  every  way  agreeable  to 
Bound  reason,  wisdom,  and  virtue,  to  the  Di- 
viue  economy,  and  the  natural  wishes  and 
desires  of  men.  Wherefore,  most  nations 
have,  with  the  greatest  reason,  universally 
adopted  iliem,  and  the  wisest  in  all  countries 
and  in  all  ages  have  cheerfully  embraced 
lueva  ;  and  though  they  could  not  confirm 
them  with  any  argument  of  irresistible  force, 

tat  t6  vnoKtifuvov* 

83 


OF  THE  SOUL.  657 

yet  they  felt  something  within  them  that  cor 
responded  with  this  doctrine,  and  always 
looked  upon  it  as  most  beautiful  and  worthy 
of  credit.  "  Nobody,"  says  Atticus  in  Cicero, 
"  shall  drive  me  from  the  immortality  of  the 
soul."*  And  Seneca's  words  are,  "  I  took 
pleasure  to  inquire  into  the  eternity  of  the 
soul,  and  even  indeed  to  believe  it.  I  re- 
signed myself  to  so  glorious  a  hope,  for  now 
1  begin  to  despise  the  remains  of  a  broken 
constitution,  as  being  to  remove  into  that  im- 
mensity of  time,  and  into  the  possession  of 
endless  ages."t  0  how  much  does  the  soul 
gain  by  this  removal ! 

As  for  you,  young  gentlemen,  I  doubt  not 
but  you  will  embrace  this  doctrine,  not  only 
as  agreeable  to  reason,  but  as  it  is  an  article 
of  the  Christian  faith.  I  only  put  you  in  mind 
to  revolve  it  often  within  yourselves,  and  with 
a  serious  disposition  of  mind  ;  for  you  wili 
find  it  the  strongest  incitement  to  wisdom, 
good  morals,  and  true  piety.  Nor  can  you 
imagine  anything  that  will  more  effectually 
divert  you  from  a  foolish  admiration  of  pres- 
ent and  perishing  things,  and  from  the  allure- 
ments and  sordid  pleasures  of  this  earthly 
body.  Consider,  I  pray  you,  how  unbecom- 
ing it  is  to  make  a  heaven-born  soul,  that  is 
to  live  for  ever,  a  slave  to  the  meanest,  vilest, 
and  most  trifling  things  ;  and,  as  it  were,  to 
thrust  down  to  the  kitchen  a  prince  that  is 
obliged  to  leave  his  country  only  for  a  short 
time.  St.  Bernard  pathetically  addresses  him- 
self to  the  body  in  favor  of  the  soul,  persua- 
ding it  to  treat  the  latter  honorably,  not  only 
on  account  of  its  dignity,  but  also  for  the  ad- 
vantage that  will  thereby  redound  to  the  body 
itself:  "  Thou  hast  a  noble  guest,  O  flesh  !  a 
most  noble  one  indeed,  and  all  thy  safety  de- 
pends upon  its  salvation  :  it  will  certainly  re- 
member thee  for  good,  if  thou  serve  it  well  ; 
and  when  it  comes  to  its  Lord,  it  will  put  him 
in  mind  of  thee,  and  the  mighty  God  himself 
will  come  to  make  thee,  who  art  now  a  vile 
body,  like  unto  his  glorious  One;  and,  O 
wretched  flesh,  he  who  came  in  humility  and 
obscurity  to  redeem  souls,  will  come  in  great 
majesty  to  glorify  thee,  and  every  eye  shail 
see  bim."t  Be  mindful,  therefore,  young  gen- 
tlemen, of  your  better  part,  and  accustom  it 
to  think  of  its-own  eternity,  always  and  every- 
where having  its  eyes  fixed  upon  iliat  world 
to  which  it  is  most  nearly  related.  And  thus  it 
will  look  down,  as  from  on  high,  on  all  those 
things  which  the  world  considers  as  lofty  and 

•  Me  ncmn  <le  immortalitate  dppellet. 

t  .luvabatde  netcriiitate  aiiiinariiiii  qiiaTcrc,  iino  me- 
hfrciilc  crfilcrc  :  dabairi  inn  spoi  tant;r,  jiuii  rniin  rcli 
fjiiias  inl'racta'  a'tatis  conteinnobam,  in  iminonsuin 
iiliid  tpiiipiis,  et  in  possessionem  omnis  a'Vis  transitu 
rijs. — Skn.  Kpis.  102. 

{  Not)ilfin  hospitem  habes,Ocaro!  nobilcm  valde, 
Pt  tola  Ilia  saliis  de  ejus  salute  pemlet  :  oiniiino  etiam 
niemor  erit  tiii  in  bonnm,  si  bene  srrvirris  ilii  ;  ct  cum. 
pervcnerit  ad  Domiiniiii  siiinn,  sugsjeret  ei  de  te,  et 
vcniet  ipse  IJominiis  virtiitnni,  el  te  vile  corpus  con- 
fis^iirabit  corpori  siio  glorioso,  rpii  ad  animas  redimen 
das  huiiiili"  ante  venerat,  ct  occultus,  jjro  te  glorifi 
cando,  O  inisera  caro,  sublimis  vcniet  et  inanileslus. 


858 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


exnlu'd,  and  will  see  them  under  its  feet  ; 
and  o(  all  the  things  which  are  confined 
wilhiii  the  narrow  versie  of  this  present  life, 
it  will  have  nothing  to  desire,  and  nothing  to 
fear. 


LECTURE  VI. 

HAPPINESS  OF  THE  LIFE  TO  COME. 

Of  ail  the  thoughts  of  men,  there  is  cer- 
tainly none  that  more  ofien  occurs  to  a  serious 
mind  that  has  its  own  interest  at  heart,  tlian 
that  to  which  all  others  are  subordinate  and 
subservient,  with  regard  to  the  intention,  the 
ultimate  and  most  desirable  end,  of  all  our 
toils  and  cares,  and  even  of  life  itself  And 
this  important  thought  will  the  more  closely 
beset  the  mind,  tlie  more  sliarp-sighted  it  is 
in  prying  into  tiie  real  torments,  the  delusive 
hopes,  and  the  false  joys  of  this  our  wretched 
state  ;  which  is  indeed  so  miserable,  that  it 
can  never  be  sufficiently  lamented  ;  and  as 
for  laughter  amid  so  many  sorrows,  dansers, 
and  fears,  it  must  be  considered  as  downright 
madness.  Such  was  the  opinion  of  the  wisest 
of  kings  :  /  have  said  of  laughter,  says  he.  It 
is  mad  ;  and  of  mirth.  What  doth  it  ?  Eccl.  ii. 
2.  We  have,  therefore,  no  cause  to  be  much 
surprised  at  the  bitter  complaints  which  a 
grievous  weight  of  afflictions  has  extorted, 
even  from  great  and  good  men :  nay,  it  is  ra- 
ther a  wonder,  if  the  same  causes  do  not 
often  oblige  us  to  repeat  them. 

If  we  look  about  us,  how  often  are  we 
shocked  to  observe  either  the  calamities  of 
our  country,  or  the  sad  disasters  of  our  rela- 
tions and  friends,  whom  we  have  daily  occa- 
sion to  mourn,  either  as  groaning  under  the 
pressure  of  poverty,  pining  away  under  lan- 
guishing diseases,  tortured  by  acute  ones,  or 
carried  off  by  death,  while  we  ourselves  are, 
in  like  manner,  very  soon  to  draw  tears  from 
the  eyes  of  others!  Nay,  how  often  are  we 
a  burden  to  ourselves,  and  groan  heavily  un- 
der afflictions  of  our  own,  that  press  hard  up- 
on our  estates,  our  bodies,  or  our  minds  !  Even 
fhose  who  seem  to  meet  with  the  fewest  and 
the  least  inconveniences  in  this  life,  and  daz- 
zle the  eyes  of  spectators  with  the  brightness 
of  a  seemingly  constant  and  uniform  felicity, 
beside  that  they  often  suffer  from  secret  vexa- 
tions and  cares  which  destroy  their  inward 
peace,  and  prey  upon  their  distressed  hearts, 
how  uncertain,  weak,  and  brittle,  is  that  false 
happiness  which  appears  about  them,  and 
when  it  shines  brightest,  how  easily  is  it  bro- 
Ken  to  pieces  !  So  that  it  has  been  justly 
laid,  "  They  want  another  felicity  to  secure 
that  which  ihey  are  already  possessed  of."* 
If,  after  all,  there  are  some  whose  minds  are 
hardened  against  all  the  forms  and  appear- 
ances of  external  things,  and  who  look  down 

*  Alia  felicitate  ad  iham  elicitatem  tuendam  opus 

Mt. 


with  equal  contem])t  upon  all  the  events  of 
this  world,  whether  ol  a  dreadlul  or  an  enga. 
ging  aspect,  even  this  disposition  of  mind  does 
not  make  them  hajjpy  :  nor  do  they  think 
themselves  so;  they  have  still  something  to 
make  them  uneasy,  the  obscure  darkness  that 
overspreads  their  minds,  their  ignorance  of 
heavenly  things,  and  the  strength  of  their  car- 
nal alfections,  not  yet  entirely  subdued.  And 
though  these  we  are  now  speaking  of,  are  by 
far  the  noblest  and  most  beautiful  part  of  the 
human  race,  yet,  if  they  had  not  within  them 
that  blessed  hope  of  .removing  hence,  in  a 
little  lime,  to  the  regions  of  light,  the  more 
severely  they  feel  the  straits  and  afflictions  to 
which  their  souls  are  exposed  by  being  shut 
up  in  this  narrow  earthly  cottage,  so  much 
they  certainly  would  be  more  miserable  than 
the  rest  of  mankind. 

As  oft,  therefore,  as  we  reflect  upon  these 
things,  we  shall  find  that  the  whole  comes  to 
this  one  conclusion :  "  There  is  certainly 
some  end  ;"* — there  is,  to  be  sure,  some  end 
suited  to  the  nature  of  man,  and  worthy  of  it ; 
some  particular,  complete,  and  permanent 
good  ;  and  since  we  in  vain  look  for  it  within 
the  narrow  verge  of  this  life,  and  among  the 
many  miseries  that  swarm  on  it  from  begin- 
ning  to  end.  we  must  of  necessity  conclude 
that  there  is  certainly  some  more  fruitful 
country,  and  a  more  lasting  life,  to  which  our 
felicity  is  reserved,  and  into  which  we  shall 
be  received  Avhen  we  remove  hence.  This  is 
not  our  rest,  nor  have  we  any  place  of  resi- 
dence here  :  it  is  the  region  of  fleas  and  gnats  ; 
and  while  we  search  for  happiness  among 
these  mean  and  perishing-  things,  we  are  not 
only  sure  to  be  disappointed,  but  also  not  to 
escape  those  miseries  which,  in  great  num- 
bers, continually  beset  us.  So  that  we  may 
apply  to  ourselves  the  saying  of  the  famous 
artist  confined  in  the  island  of  Crete,  and  truly 
say,  "The  earth  and  the  sea  are  shut  up 
against  us,  and  neither  of  them  can  favor  our 
escape:  the  way  to  heaven  is  alone  open,  and 
this  way  we  will  strive  to  go."t 

Thus  far  we  have  advanced  by  degrees, 
and  very  lately  we  have  discoursed  upon  the 
immortality  of  the  soul,  to  which  we  have 
added  the  resurrection  of  our  earthly  body,  by 
way  of  appendix.  It  remains  that  we  now 
inquire  into  the  happiness  of  the  life  to  come. 

Yet,  I  own,  I  am  almost  deterred  from  en- 
tering upon  this  inquiry,  by  the  vast  obscuri- 
ty and  sublimity  of  the  subject,  which  in  its 
nat  jre  is  such,  that  we  can  neither  understand 
it,  nor,  if  we  could,  can  it  be  expressed  in 
words.  The  divine  apostle,  who  had  had 
some  glimpse  of  this  felicity,  describes  it  no 
otherwise  than  by  his  silence,  calling  the 
words  he  heard,  unspeakable,  and  such  as  i{ 
was  not  lauful  for  a  man  to  vtter-X  2  Cor 
xii.  4.    And  if  he  neither  could  nor  would  h%' 

*  'Eirrii/  ana  rtAoj. 

t  Ncc  tcllus  nostrae,  nec  patet  iinda  fiijrre, 

Itrstal  iter  cirli,  coelo  teritabiimis  ire. 
X'Kpl>r)Ta  pfifiaTa,  a,  oix  e^dv  avBpuijru  AoAifffo.. 


HAPPINESS  OF  THE  LIFE  TO  COME. 


659 


jiress  what  he  saw,  far  be  it  from  us  boldly 
to  force  ourselves  into  or  intrude  upon  what 
we  have  seen  ;  especially  as  the  same  apos- 
tle, in  another  place,  acquaints  us,  for  our  fu- 
ture caution,  that  this  was  unwarrantably 
done  by  some  rash  and  forward  persons  in  his 
own  time.    But  since  in  the  sacred  archives 
of  this  new  world,  however  invisible  and  un- 
known to  us,  we  have  some  maps  and  de- 
scriptions of  it  suited  to  our  capacity  :  we  are 
not  only  allowed  to  look  at  them,  but  as  they 
were  drawn  for  that  very  purpose,  it  would 
certainly  be  the  greatest"  ingratitude,  as  well 
as  the  highest  negligence  in  us,  not  to  make 
some  improvement  of  them.    Here,  however, 
we  must  remember  what  a  great  odds  there 
is  between  the  description  of  a  kingdom  m  a 
small  and  imperfect  map,  and  the  extent  and 
beauty  of  that  very  kingdom  when  viewed  by 
the  traveller's  eye  ;  and  how  much  greater 
the  difference  must  be  between  the  felicity  of 
that  heavenly  kingdom  to  which  we  are  as- 
piring, and  all,  even  the  most  striking  figura- 
tive expressions,  taken  from  the  things  of 
this  earth,  that  are  used  to  convey  some  faint 
and  imperfect  notion  of  it  to  our  minds.  What 
are  these  things,  the  false  glar?  and  shadows 
whereof,  in  this  earth,  are  pursued  with  sucii 
keen  and  furious  impetuosity — richesy  honors, 
pleasures?  All  these,  in  their  justest,  purest, 
and  suhlimest  sense,  are  comprehended  in 
this  blessed  life:  it  is  a  treasure,  that  can  nei- 
ther fail  nor  be  carried  away  by  force  or  fraud  : 
it  han  inherifanr.i>  ancoTTupled  and  undefiled, 
ff  Crown  that  fadeih  not  awav  ;  a  never-failing 
sironm  of  joy  and  delight :  it  is  a  marriage- 
feast,  and  of  all  others  the  most  joyous  and  I 
most  sumptuous;  one  that  always  satisfies, 
and  never  cloys  the  appetite  :  it  is  an  eternal 
spring,  and  an  everlasting  light,  a  day  with- 
out an  evening:  it  is  a  paradise,  where  the 
lilies  are  always  white  and  in  full  bloom,  the 
saflTron  blooming,  the  trees  sweat  out  their 
balsams,  and  the  tree  of  life  in  the  midst 
thereof:  it  is  a  city,  where  the  houses  are 
built  of  living  pearls,  the  gales  of  precious 
stones,  and  the  streets  paved  with  the  purest 
gold.    Yet,  all  these  are  nothing  but  veils  of 
the  happiness  to  be  revealed  on  that  most 
blessed  day  :  nay,  the  light  itself,  which  we 
have  mentioned  among  the  rest,  though  it  be 
the  most  beautiful  ornament  in  this  visible 
world,  is  at  best  but  a  shadow  of  that  heav- 
enly glory  ;  and  how  small  soever  thai  por- 
tion of  this  inaccessible  brightness  may  be, 
which,  in  the  sacred  Scriptures,  shines  upon 
us  through  these  veils,  it  certainly  very  well  de- 
serves that  we  should  often  turn  our  eyes  tow- 
ard it,  and  view  it  with  the  closest  attention. 

1.  Now,  the  first  that  necessarily  occurs  in 
the  constitution  of  happiness,  is  a  full  and  i 
complete  deliverance  from  every  evil  and  ev-  i 
ery  grievance  ;  which  we  may  as  certainly  < 
expect  to  mt  »t  with  in  that  heavenly  life,  as  1 
it  is  impossible  to  be  attained  while  we  so-  s 
journ  here  below.  All  tears  shall  be  wiped  f 
away  from  our  eyes,  and  every  cause  and  oc- 


casion of  tears  for  ever  removed  from  our 
sight.  There,  there  are  no  tumults,  ao  wars, 
no  poverty,  no  death,  nor  disease  ;  there, 
there  is  neither  mourning,  nor  fear,  nor  sin, 
which  is  the  source  and  fountain  of  all  other 
evils:  there  is  neither  violence  within  doors 
nor  without,  nor  any  complaint,  in  the  streets 
of  that  blessed  city.  There,  no  friend  goes 
out,  nor  enemy  comes  in. 

2.  Full  vigor  of  bodv  and  mind,  health, 
beauty,  purity,  and  perfect  tranquillity. 

3.  The  most  delightful  society  of  angels, 
prophets,  apostles,  martyrs,  and  all  the  saints ; 
among  whom  there  are  no  reproaches,  conten- 
tions, controversies,  nor  party-spirit,  because 
there  are,  there,  none  of  the  sources  whence 
they  can  spring,  nor  anything  to  encourage 
their  growth  ;  for  there  is,  there,  particularly, 
no  ignorance,  no  blind  self-love,  no  vain-glory 
nor  envy,  which  is  quite  excijded  from  those 
divine  regions  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  perfect 
charily,  whereby  every  one,  together  with  his 
own  felicity,  enjoys  that  of  his  neighbors,  and 
is  happy  in  the  one  as  well  as  the  other : 
hence  there  is  among  them  a  kind  of  infinite 
reflection  and  multiplication  of  happiness, 
like  that  of  a  spacious  hall  adorned  with  gold 
and  |)recious  stones,  dignified  with  a  full  as- 
sembly of  kings  and  potentates,  and  having 
its  walls  quite  covered  with  the  brightest 
looking-glasses. 

4.  But  what  infinitely  exceeds,  and  quite 
eclipses  all  the  rest,  is  that  boundless  ocean 
of  happiness,  which  results  from  the  beatific 
visionof  theevcr-blessed  (lod  ;  without  which, 
neither  the  tranquillity  they  enjoy,  nor  the 

i  society  of  saints,  nor  the  possession  of  any 
particular  finite  good,  nor  indeed  of  all  such 
taken  together,  can  satisfy  the  soul,  or  make 
it  completely  happy.  The  manner  of  ibis 
enjoyment  we  can  only  expect  to  understand, 
wtien  we  enter  upon  the  full  possession  of  it; 
till  then,  to  dispute  and  raise  many  questions 
about  it,  is  nothing  but  vain,  foolish  talking, 
and  fighting  with  phantoms  of  our  own  brain. 
But  the  schoolmen,  who  confine  the  whole 
of  this  felicity  to  bare  speculation,  or,  as  they 
call  \x,  actus  inteUeotualis,  an  intellectual  art, 
sre,  in  ibis,  as  in  many  other  cases,  guilty 
of  great  presumption,  and  their  conclusion  is 
built  upon  a  very  weak  foundation.  For  al- 
though contemplation  be  the  highest  and  no- 
blest act  of  the  mind,  yet  complete  happiness 
necessarily  requires  some  present  good  suited 
to  the  whola  man,  the  whole  soul,  and  all  its 
faculties.  Nor  is  it  any  objection  to  this  doc- 
trine, that  the  whole  of  this  felicity  is  com- 
monly comprehended  in  Scripture  under  the 
term  oi  visum  ;  for  the  mental  vision,  or  con- 
templation of  the  primary  and  infinite  good, 
most  properly  signifies,  or  at  least  includes  in 
it,  the  full  enjoyment  of  that  good  :  and  the 
observation  of  the  Rabbins  concerning  S(;rip- 
lure  phrases,  "That  words  expressmg  the 
senses,  include  also  the  affections  naturally 
arising  from  those  sensations,"*  is  very  well 
'  Verba  sensus  connotant  affectus. 


360 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


known.  Thus  knowing  is  often  put  for  appro- 
vina:  and  loving  ;  and  srthii;;  for  enjoying;  and 
attaniing.  Taxle  and  see  that  God  is  i^ood, 
says  the  i  salniist.  And,  in  fact,  it  is  no 
small  pleasure  to  lovers  to  dwell  toijcther, 
and  uuuually  lo  enjoy  the  sight  of  one  anoth 
er.  "iVothiug  is  more  agreeable  lo  lovers, 
tlian  lo  live  together."* 

We  must,  therefore,  by  all  means  conclude, 
that  this  beatific  vision  includes  in  it  not  only 
a  distinct  and  intuitive  knowledge  of  (.iod, 
jUt,  so  to  speak,  such  a  knowledge  as  gives 
us  the  enjoyment  of  that  most  perfect  Being, 
and,  in  some  sense,  unites  us  to  him  ;  for 
such  a  vision  it  must,  of  necessity,  be,  tliat 
converts  that  love  of  the  Infinite  Good  which 
blazes  in  the  souls  of  the  saints,  into  full  pos- 
session ;  that  crowns  all  their  wishes,  and 
fills  them  with  an  abundant  and  overflowing 
fulness  of  joy,  that  vents  itself  in  everlasting 
blessings  and  songs  of  praise. 

And  this  is  the  only  doctrine,  if  you  believe 
it  (and  I  make  no  doubt  but  you  do),  this,  I 
say,  is  the  only  doctrine  that  will  transport 
your  whole  souls,  and  raise  them  up  on  high. 
Hence  you  wiH  learn  to  trample  under  feet 
all  the  turbid  and  mudd"y  pleasures  of  the  flesh, 
and  all  the  allurements  and  splendid  trifles 
of  t'he  present  world.  However  those  earthly 
enjoyments  that  are  swelled  up,  by  false 
names  and  the  strength  of  imagination,  to  a 
vast  size,  may  appear  grand  and  beautiful, 
and  still  greater  and  more  engaging  to  those 
that  are  unacquainted  with  them:  how  small, 
how  inconsiderable  do  they  all  appear  to  a 
soul  that  looks  for  a  heavenly  country,  that 
expects  to  share  the  joys  of  angels,  and  has 
its  thoughts  constantly  emi)loyed  about  these 
objects  I  To  conclude,  the  more  the  soul 
withdraws,  so  to  speaK,  from  the  body,  and 
retires  within  itself,  the  more  it  rises  above 
itself ;  and  the  more  closely  it  cleaves  to 
God,  the  more  the  life  it  lives  in  this  earth 
resembles  that  which  it  will  enjoy  in  heaven, 
and  the  larger  foretastes  it  has  of  the  first- 
fruits  of  that  blessed  harvest.  Aspire,  there- 
fore, to  holiness,  young  gentlemen,  without 
which  no  man  shall  see  llie  Lord. 


LECTURE  VIL 

THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 

Thoiigh,  on  most  subjects,  the, opinions  of 
men  are  various,  and  often  quite  opposite,  in- 
somuch that  they  seem  to  be  more  remarka- 
ble for  the  vast  variety  of  their  sentiments, 
than  that  of  their  faces  and  languages  ;  there 
are,  however,  two  thinss  wherein  all  nations 
are  agreed,  and  in  which  there  seems  to  be  a 
perfect  harmony  throughout  ihewhole  human 
race — lite  desire  of  happiness  and  a  sense  of 
religion.  The  former  no  man  desires  to 
shake  off:  and  though  some,  possibly,  would 
willingly  part  with  the  latter,  it  is  not  in  their 

*  Ovitv  0VTU3  Tbiv  ipiXuv  U)i  TO  GV^rJV, 


power  lo  eradicate  it  entirely:  they  can  net 
banish  God  aliogether  out  of  their  thoughts, 
nor  extinguish  every  spark  of  religion  within 
them.  It  is  certainly  true,  that,  lor  the  most 
jiart,  this  desire  of  happiness  wanders  in  dark- 
ness from  one  object  to  another  without  fix- 
ing ni)on  any  ;  and  the  sense  of  religion  is 
either  sufl'ered  to  lie  inactive,  or  deviates  into 
superstition.  Yet,  the  great  Creator  of  the 
world  employs  these  two,  as  the  materials  of 
a  fallen  building,  to  repair  the  ruins  of  the 
human  race,  and  as  handles  whereby  he 
draws  his  earthern 'vessels  out  of  the  deep 
gulf  of  misery  into  which  it  is  fallen. 

Of  the  former  of  these,  that  is,  felicity,  we 
have  already  spoken  on  another  occasion  :  we 
shall  therefore  now,  with  Divine  assistance, 
employ  some  part  of  our  time  in  considering 
that  sense  of  religion  which  is  naturally  im- 
pressed on  the  mind  of  man. 

Nor  will  our  labor,  I  imagine,  be  unprofit- 
ably  employed  in  collecting  together  those 
few  general  principles  in  which  so  many  and 
so  very  dissimilar  forms  of  religion  and  sen- 
timents, extremely  different,  liarmoniously 
agree  ;  for,  as  everv  science  most  properly 
begins  with  universal  propositions  and  things 
more  generally  known,  so,  in  the  present 
case,  besides  the  other  advantages,  it  will  be 
no  small  support  to  a  weak  and  wavering 
mind,  that  amid  all  the  disputes  and  conten- 
tions subsisting  between  the  various  sects  and 
parties  in  religion,  the  great  and  necessary  ar- 
ticles, at  least,  of  our  faith,  are  established  in 
some  particulars  by  the  general  consent  of 
mankind,  and,  in  all  the  rest,  by  that  of  the 
whole  Christian  world. 

I  would  therefore  most  earnestly  wish,  that 
your  minds,  rooted  and  established  in  the 
faitji,  were  firmly  united  in  this  delightful 
bond  of  religion,  which,  like  a  golden  chain, 
will  he  no  burden,  but  an  ornament;  not  a 
yoke  of  slavery,  but  a  badge  of  true  and  gen- 
erous liberty.  I  would  by  no  means  have  you 
to  be  Christians  upon  the  authority  of  mere 
tradition,  or  education,  and  the  example  and 
precepts  of  parents  and  masters,  but  purely 
from  a  full  conviction  of  your  own  under- 
standings, and  a  fervent  disposition  of  the  will 
and  affections  proceeding  therefrom.  For  pi- 
ety '■  is  the  sole  and  only  good  among  man- 
kind,"* and  you  can  expect  none  of  the  fruits 
of  religion,  unless  the  root  of  it  be  well  laid, 
and  firmly  established  by  faith  :  "for  all  the 
virtues  are  the  daughters  of  faith, "t  sayn 
Clemens  Alexandrinus. 

Lucretius,  with  very  ill-advised  praises, 
extols  his  favorite  Grecian  philoso[)her  as  one 
fallen  down  from  heaven  to  be  the  deliverer  of 
mankind,  and  dispel  their  distressing  terrors 
and  fears,  because  he  fancied  he  had  found 
out  an  effectual  method  to  banish  all  religion 
entirely  out  of  the  minds  of  men.  And  to 
say  the  truth,  in  no  age  has  there  been  want- 

*  "Ey  yap  Koi  ji6vov  tv  dfOptoTroti  dyaB6v  h  f.vct3u<u 

Trismegist. 

\  Wauat  yiip  dpCTUi  niaTsios  Ovyartpts. 


THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


661 


brutish  souls,  too  much  enslaved  to  their 
corporeal  senses,  who  would  wish  these  opin- 
ions to  be  true  :  yet,  after  ail,  there  are  very 
few  of  them  who  are  able  to  persuade  them- 
selves of  the  truth  of  those  vicious  principles 
which,  with  great  impudence  and  imponu- 
lity,  they  commonly  inculcate  upon  others: 
they  belch  out  with  full  mouth  their  foolish 
dreams,  often  in  direct  opposition  to  con- 
science and  knowledge  ;  and  what  they  un- 
nappily  would  wish  to  be  true,  they  can 
scarcely,  if  at  all,  believe  themselves.  You 
are  acquainted  with  Horace's  recantation, 
wherein  he  tells  us,  that  '■  he  had  been  long 
bigoted  to  the  mad  tenets  of  ihe  Epicurean 
philosophy,  but  found  himself  at  last  obliged 
to  alter  his  sentiments,  and  deny  all  he  had 
asserted  before."* 

Some  souls  lose  the  whole  exercise  of  their 
reason,  because  they  inform  bodies  which 
labor  under  the  defect  of  temperament  or  of 
proper  organs  ;  yet,  you  continue  to  give 
the  old  definition  of  man,  and  call  him 
a  rational  creature  ;  and  should  any  one 
think  proper  to  call  him  a  reli ^nous  creature, 
he  would,  to  be  sure,  have  as  much  reason  on 
his  side,  and  needed  not  fear  his  opinion 
would  be  rejected,  because  of  a  few  madmen 
who  laugh  at  religion.  Nor  is  it  improbable, 
as  some  of  the  ancients  have  asserted,  that 
those  few  among  the  Greeks  who  were  called 
Atheists,  had  not  that  epithet  because  ihey 
absolutely  denied  the  being  of  God,  but  only 
because  they  rejected  and  justly  laughed  at 
the  fictitious  and  ridiculous  deities  of  the  na- 
tions. 

Of  all  the  institutions  and  customs  received 
among  men,  we  meet  with  nothing  more  sol- 
emn and  general  that  of  religion  and  sacred 
fites  performed  to  the  honornif  some  deity  : 
which  is  a  very  strong  argument,  that  that 
persuasion,  in  preference  to  any  other,  is 
written,  nay,  rather  engraven,  in  strong  and 
indelible  characters  upon  the  mind  of  man. 
This  is,  as  it  were,  the  name  of  the  jreat 
Creator  stamped  upon  the  noblest  of  all  his 
visible  works,  that  thus  man  may  acknowl- 
edge himself  to  be  his,  and,  concluding  from 
the  inscription'he  finds  impressed  u[)on  his 
mind,  that  what  belongs  to  God  (Hii^hi,  in 
strict  justice,  to  be  restored  to  him.f  be  whol- 
ly reunited  to  his  first  principle,  that  immense 
Ocean  of  goodness  whence  he  took  his  rise. 
The  distemper  that  has  invaded  mankind  is, 
indeed,  grievous  and  epidemical:  it  consists 
in  a  mean  and  degenerate  love  to  the  body 
and  corporeal  things,  and,  in  consequence  of 
this,  a  stu))id  and  brutish  forgetfulness  of  God, 
though  he  can  never  be  entirely  blotted  out 
of  the  mind.  This  forgetfulness,  a  few,  and 
but  very,  alarmed  and  awakened  by  the  Di- 
Tine  rod,  early  shake  off.  And  even  in  the 
most  stupid,  and  such  as  are  buried  in  the 

♦  Parens  IVonim  ciiltor  ot  infrequens. 
InsaniPDtis  duin  supipiitirc 
Coiisiiltiis  crro,  &c.    Od.  xxxiv.,lib.  1. 

f  Ta  rou  i)co'C  rto  Ocw, 


deepest  sleep,  the  original  impression  srfhne 
times  discovers  itsell  when  they  are  under 
the  pressure  of  some  grievous  calamity,  or  on 
the  approach  of  danger,  and  especially  up6n 
a  near  prospect  of  death.  Then,  the  thoughts 
of  God,  that  had  lain  hid  and  been  long  sup- 
pressed, forced  out  by  the  weight  of  pain  and 
the  impressions  of  fear,  come  to  be  remem- 
bered :  and  the  whole  soul  being,  as  it  were, 
roused  out  of  its  long  and  deep  sleep,  men  be- 
gin to  look  about  them,  inquire  what  the 
matter  is,  and  seriously  reflect  whence  they 
came,  and  whiiher  they  are  going.  Then 
the  truth  comes  naturally  from  their  hearts 
The  stormy  sea  alarmed  even  profane  sailors 
so  much,  that  they  awaked  the  sleeping 
prophet:  Awake,  say  they,  Mom  sleeper,  arid 
call  -upon  thy  God.  Jonah  i.  6. 

But  however  weak  or  imperfect  this  origi- 
nal or  innate  knowledge  of  God  may  be,  it 
discovers  itself  everywhere  so  far,  at  least, 
that  you  can  meet  with  no  man,  or  society  of 
men,  that,  by  some  form  of  worship  or  cere- 
monies, do  not  acknowledge  a  Deity,  anc,  ac- 
cording to  their  capacity,  and  the  custom  of 
their  country,  pay  him  homage.  It  is  true, 
some  late  travellers  have  reported,  that,  in 
that  part  of  the  new  world  called  Brazil, 
there  are  some  tribes  of  the  natives  among 
whom  you  can  discover  no  symptoms  that 
they  have  the  least  sense  of  a  Deity  :  but,  be- 
sides that  the  truth  of  this  report  is  very  far 
from  being  well  ascertained,  and  that  the 
observation  might  have  been  too  precipitately 
made  by  new-comers  who  had  not  made  suf- 
ficient inquiry— even  supposing  it  to  be  true, 
it  is  not  of  such  consequence,  when  opposed 
to  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  the  universal 
agreement  of  all  nations  and  aires  U[)oii  this 
subject,  that  the  least  regard  should  be  paid 
to  it.  Nor  must  we  imagine  that  it  at  all  les- 
sens the  weight  of  tins  great  argument,  which 
has  been  generally  and  most  justly  urged, 
both  by  ancients  and  moderns,  to  establish 
the  first  and  common  foundation  of  religion. 

Now,  wlioever  accurately  considers  this 
universal  sense  of  religion  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking,  will  find  that  it  comprehends 
in  it  these  particulars  :  1.  That  there  is  a  God. 
2.  That  he  is  to  be  worshipped.  3.  Which 
is  a  consequence  of  the  former,  that  he  re- 
gards the  artairs  of  men.  4.  That  he  has 
given  them  a  law,  enforced  by  rewards  and 
punishments,  and  that  the  distribution  of 
these  is,  in  a  very  great  measure,  reserved  to 
a  life  different  from  that  we  live  in  this 
earth,  is  the  firm  belief,  if  not  of  all,  at  least 
of  the  generality  of  mankind.  And  though 
our  present  purpose  does  not  require  that  we 
should  confirm  the  truth  of  all  these  points 
with  those  strong  arguments  that  miirht  be 
urged  in  their  favor,  but  rather  that  we  should 
take  them  for  cranted,  as  being  sufFicientlv 
established  by  the  common  consent  of  man- 
kind ;  we  shall,  however,  subjoin  a  few 
thoughts  on  each  of  them  separately,  with  as 
great  brevity  and  perspicuity  as  we  can. 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


\.  That  therf  r»  a  God.  And  licre  I  can 
not  hclj)  I'l'aiins,  ihai  whi'n  we  I'luleavor  to 
coiitiiui  iliis  li'ailini,^  iruili,  wiili  regard  to  the 
Gist  and  imcreait'd  hcinir,  liy  a  loni;  and  labor- 
ed serifS  of' aii^umcnis,  we  may  seem,  instead 
of  a  service,  to  do  a  kind  of  injury  to  God  and 
man  boll^.  For  why  should  we  use  tiie  pililul 
light  of  a  candle  to  discover  the  sun,  and 
eagerly  go  about  to  prove  the  being  of  Hitn 
who  gave  being  to  everything  else — who 
alone  exists  necessarily,  nay,  we  may  boldly 
say,  who  alone  exists  :  seeing  all  other  thinirs 
Were  by  him  extracted  out  of  nothing,  and, 
wlien  com]iared  with  him,  they  are  nothing, 
and  even  less  ilian  nothing,  and  vanity  ?  And 
would  not  any  man  tliink  himself  insulted, 
sln)uld  it  be  suspected  that  he  doubled  of  the 
being  of  Him,  without  whom  he  could  neither 
doubt,  nor  think,  nor  be  at  all  ?  This  persua- 
sion, without  doubt,  is  innate,  and  stronglv 
impressed  upon  the  mind  of  man,  if  anything 
at  all  can  be  said  to  be  so.*  Nor  does  lam- 
blicus  scruple  to  say,  that  "  to  know  God  is 
our  very  being  :"t  and  in  another  place, 
that  "  it  is  the  very  being  of  the  soul  to  know 
God,  on  whom  it  dei)ends."|  Nor  would  he 
think  amiss,  who,  in  this,  should  esjiouse  the 
opinion  of  Plato  ;  for,  to  know  this,  is  nothing 
more  ihan  to  call  to  remembrance  what  was 
formerly  impressed  upon  the  mind  :  and  when 
one  forgets  it  (which,  alas  !  is  too  much  tlie 
case  of  us  all),  be  has  as  many  remembrancers, 
so  to  speak,  within  him,  as  he  has  members, 
and  as  many  without  him,  as  the  individuals 
of  the  vast  variety  of  creatures  to  be  seen 
around  him.  Let.  tlierei'ore,  the  indolent  soul 
that  has  almost  forgot  God,  be  roused  up,  and 
every  now  and  then  say  to  itself,  "  Behold 
this  beautiful  starry  heaven,"  &:c. 

But  because  we  have  loo  many  of  that  sort 
of  fools  that  say  in  their  heart,  "  There  is  no 
God"  (and  if  we  are  ?iot  to  answer  a  fool,  so 
as  to  be  like  unto  him,  yet  we  are.  by  all 
means,  to  answer  him  according  to  hts  folly, 
lest  he  be  wise  in  his  oivn  conceit )  ;  again,  be- 
cause a  criminal  forgetfulness  of  this  leading 
truth  is  the  sole  source  of  all  the  wickedness 
in  the  world  ;  and  finally,  because  it  may  not 
be  quite  unprolitable,  nor  unpleasant,  even  to 
the  best  of  men,  sometimes  to  recollect  their 
thoughts  on  this  subject,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
a  very  pleasant  exercise  to  every  well-dispo- 
sed mind,  to  reflect  upon  what  a  solid  and 
unshaken  foundation  the  whole  fabric  of  re- 
litrion  is  built,  and  to  think  and  s|)eak  of  the 
Eternal'  Fountain  of  goodness  and  of  all  other 
beings,  and  consequently  of  his  necessary  ex- 
istence ;  we  reckon  it  will  not  be  amiss  to 
give  a  few  thoughts  upon  it.  Therefore,  not 
to  insist  upon  several  arguments,  which  are 
urged  with  great  advaiuaire  on  this  subject, 
we  shall  produce  only  one  or  two,  and  shall 
reason  thus. 

*  Priinum  visibilo  lii!t,et  priimim  inteiligit)ile  Doiis- 
T  Ksso  nostrum  est  Deiim  co'^iiosccrp. 
X  Kssc  aniin:!',  est  quoddmii  intelligere,  scilicet 
Pcum,  unile  dependet. 


It  is  by  all  means  necessary  that  there 
should  be  some  eiernal  being,  otherv/ise  noth- 
ing eould  ever  have  been  ;  since  it  must  be  a 
most  shocking  contradiction  to  say,  that  any- 
thing cuuld  have  produced  itself  out  of  noth- 
ing. Bui  if  we  say,  that  anything  existed 
from  eternity,  it  is  most  agreeable  lo  reason 
that  that  should  he  an  Eternal  Mind,  or  Think- 
ing Being,  that  so  the  noblest  property  may  be 
ascribed  to  the  most  exalted  being.  Nay,  that 
Eternal  Being  must,  of  absolute  necessity,  ex- 
cel in  wisdom  and  power,  and,  indeed,  in 
every  other  perfection,  since  it  must  itself  be 
uncreated,  and  the  cause  and  origin  of  all  tlie 
creatures  ;  otherwise,  some  difficulty  will  re 
main  concerning  their  production.  And  thus, 
all  the  pans  of  the  universe,  taken  singly, 
suggesi  arguments  in  favor  of  their  Creator. 

The  beautiful  order  of  the  universe,  and 
the  mutual  relation  that  subsists  between  all 
its  pans,  present  us  with  anotlier  strong  and 
convincing  argument.  This  order  is  itself  an 
effect,  and,  indeed,  a  wonderful  one  ;  and  it 
is  also  evidently  disiincl  from  the  things  tiiem- 
selves,  taken  singly  ;  therefore  it  must  pro- 
ceed from  some  cause,  and  a  cause  endowed 
with  superior  wisdom  :  for  it  would  be  the 
greatest  folly,  as  well  as  imjiudence,  to  say 
it  could  be  owing  to  mere  chance.  Now,  it 
could  not  proceed  from  man,  nor  could  it  be 
owing  to  any  concert  or  mutual  agreement 
between  the  things  themselves,  separately 
considered  ;  seeing  the  greatest  part  of  tliem 
are  evidently  incai)able  of  consultation  and 
concert :  it  must,  therefore,  proceed  from  some 
one  superior  being,  and  that  being  is  God, 
"  who  commanded  the  siars  to  move  by  staled 
laws,  the  fruits  of  the  earth  to  be  produced 
at  different  seasons,  the  changeable  moon  to 
shine  with  borrowed  light,  and  the  sun  with 
his  own."* 

He  is  the  monarch  of  the  universe,  and  the 
most  absolute  monarch  in  nature.  For  who 
else  assigned  to  every  rank  of  creatures  its 
particular  form  and  uses,  so  that  the  stars, 
subjected  to  no  human  authority  or  laws, 
should  be  placed  on  hish,  and  serve  lo  bring 
about  to  the  earth  and  the  inhabitants  thereof 
the  regular  returns  of  day  and  night,  an^  dis- 
tinguish the  seasons  of  the  year?  [;et  us  take 
in  particular,  any  one  species  of  sublunary 
things,  for  instance,  man,  the  noblest  of  all, 
and  see  how  he  came  by  the  form  wherewith 
he  is  invested,  ihat  frame  or  constitution  of 
body,  that  vigor  of  mind,  and  that  precise 
rank  in  the  nature  of  things,  which  he  now 
obtains,  and  no  other.  He  must,  certainly, 
either  have  made  choice  of  these  things  for 
himself,  or  must  have  had  them  assigned  him 
by  another,  whom  we  must  consider  as  the 
principal  actor,  and  sole  architect  of  the  whole 
fabric.  That  he  made  clioice  of  iheiii  for 
himself,  nobody  will  imagine  ;  for  cither  h« 

•    .  Qui  lege  moveri 

Sidera,  qui  f'riiges  divsrso  tempore  nasc', 
Qui  variaui  Phieben  aliiio  jusselit  igne 
Compleri,  solemn  ue  suo. 


THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


663 


made  this  cli  Ace  before  he  had  any  existence 
of  his  own,  or  after  he  began  to  be  :  but  it  is 
not  easy  to  say  wliich  of  these  suppositions  is 
most  absurd.  It  remains,  therefore,  that  he 
must  be  indebted  for  all  he  enjoys,  lo  the  mere 
good  pleasure  of  his  great  and  all- wise  Creator, 
who  framed  his  earthly  body  in  such  a  won- 
derful and  surprising  manner,  animated  him 
with  his  own  breath,  and  thus  introduced  him 
into  tiiis  great  palace  of  his,  which  we  now 
behold,  where  his  manifold  u-isdom,  most 
properly  so  called,  displays  itself  so  glorious- 
ly in  the  whole  machine,  and  in  every  one  of 
its  wonderfully  variegated  parts. 

The  first  argument,  taken  from  the  very  be- 
ing of  things,  may  be  further  illustrated  by 
the  same  instance  of  man.  For  unless  the 
first  man  was  created,  we  must  suppose  an 
infinite  series  of  generations  from  eternity,  and 
so,  the  human  race  must  be  supposed  inde- 
pendent, and  to  owe  its  being  to  itself  But, 
by  this  hypothesis,  mankind  came  into  the 
world  by  generation,  therefore  every  individual 
of  the  race  owes  its  being  to  another  :  conse- 
quently, the  whole  race  is  from  itself,  and  at 
the  same  time  I'rom  another,  which  is  absurd. 
Therefore,  the  hypothesis  implies  a  plain  and 
evident  contradiction.  "  0  !  immense  wisdom 
that  produced  the  world  !  Let  us  for  ever 
admire  the  riches  and  skiliof  thy  right  hand;"* 
often  viewing  with  attention  thy  wonders,  and, 
while  we  view  them,  frequently  crying  out 
with  the  divine  psalmist,  O  Lord,  how  innm- 
fold  ore  I  hi/  works  !  In  wisdom  hast  thou 
Hindi'  Ihem  all.  The  earth  is  full  of  thy  richrs  ! 
Psalm  civ.  24.  From  f  iwrlastins;  to  everlast- 
ing thou  art  God,  and  besides  thee,  there  is 
no  other.  Psalm  xc.  2.  And  with  Hermes, 
"The  Father  of  all,  being  himself  under- 
staiidins,  life,  and  brightness,  created  man 
like  himself,  and  cherished  him  as  his  own 
son.  Thou  Creator  of  universal  nature,  who 
hast  extended  the  earth,  who  poisest  the 
heavens,  and  cornmandest  the  waters  to  flow 
from  all  ])arts  of  the  sea,  we  praise  thee,  who 
art  the  one  exalted  God,  for  by  thy  will  all 
things  arc  perfected. "t  The  same  author  as- 
serts that  "  God  was  prior  to  human  nature." 

In  vain  would  any  one  endeavor  to  evade 
the  force  of  our  argument,  by  subslituiiiig 
nature  in  the  place  of  (lod,  as  the  principal 
and  cause  of  this  beautiful  order.  For  either, 
by  nature,  lie  understands  the  particular  frame 
and  composition  of  every  single  thing;  wliich 
would  be  saying  nothing  at  all  to  the  purpose 
in  hand,  because  it  is  evident,  that  this  mani- 
fold nature,  which  in  most  instances  is  quite 
void  of  reason,  could  never  be  the  cause  of 
that  beautiful  order  and  harmony  which  is 
f  very  whereconsjiicuous  throughout  the  whole 

*  O  !  immonsa,  opif'px  rcriiin  s.ipientia  !  dextruj 
D:viti:is  arlein(|ii(!  tin'  mircmiir  in  ir'viim. 

t  'O  TtitvT'ov  Trar'no  o  i/ous  t.iv  ^mn  Kui  ipi7)i  aTTCKvfi<TC  avOput- 
WMv  ov  r)narjOr)  wf  Uiriv  t6kov^  IT'i(7/?j  (Itvntin^  Kritrrqf  '<> 
nn^ai  riiv  yf^f  Knl  tivfiavov  Kntfuwni  Kal  iittra^m  to  yXvK 

t6  tv^  fft»u  yap  [io\i\ovnivov  iravra  rcXeirai. 


system:  or,  he  means  a  universal  and  intelli- 
gent nature  disposing  and  ordering  everything 
to  advantage.  But  this  is  only  another  name 
for  God  ;  of  whom  it  may  be  said,  in  a  sacreu 
sense,  that  he,  as  an  infinite  nature  and  mind, 
pervades  and  fills  all  his  works.  Not  as  an 
informing  form,  according  lo  the  expression 
of  the  schools,  and  as  the  part  of  a  compound- 
ed whole  ;  which  is  the  idlest  fiction  that  can 
be  imagined,  for,  at  this  rate,  he  must  not 
only  be  a  part  of  the  vilest  insects,  but  also 
of  stocks  and  stones,  and  clods  of  earth  ;  but 
a  pure,  unmixed  nature,  which  orders  and 
governs  all  things  with  the  greatest  freedom 
and  wisdom,  and  supports  them  with  un- 
wearied and  almighty  power.  In  this  accep- 
tation, when  you  name  nature,  you  mean  God. 
Seneca's  words  are  very  apposite  to  this  pur- 
pose. "  Whithersoever  you  turn  yourself,  you 
see  God  meeting  you  ;  nothing  excludes  his 
presence  ;  he  fills  all  lis  works.  Therefore,  it 
is  in  vain  for  thee,  most  ungrateful  of  all  men, 
to  say  thou  art  not  indebted  to  God,  but  to  Na- 
ture, because  they  are,  in  fact,  the  same.  If 
thou  hadst  received  anything  from  Seneca, 
and  should  say,  thou  owedst  it  to  Annajus  or 
Lucius,  thou  wnuldst  not  thereby  change  thy 
creditor,  but  only  his  name,  because,  wliethei 
thou  mentionest  his  name  or  his  surname,  his 
person  is  still  the  same."* 

An  evident  and  most  natural  consequence 
of  this  universal  and  necessary  idea  of  a  God, 
is,  his  unity.  All  who  mention  the  term  God, 
intend  to  convey  by  it  the  idea  of  the  first, 
most  exalted,  necessarily  existent,  and  infinite- 
ly perfect  being  ;  and  it  is  plain,  there  can  be 
but  one  being  endued  with  all  these  perfec- 
tions. Nay,  even  the  [lolytlieism  that  pre- 
vailed among  the  heathen  nations  was  not 
carried  so  far,  but  that  they  acknowledged 
one  God,  by  way  of  eminence,  as  su[)reme 
and  absolutely  above  all  the  rest,  whom  they 
styled  the  greatest  and  best  of  Beings,  and 
the  Father  of  gods  and  men.  From  him  all 
the  rest  had  their  beins  and  all  that  they  were, 
and  from  him,  also,  they  had  the  title  of  gods, 
l)Ut  still  in  a  limited  and  subordinate  sense. 
In  confirmation  of  this,  we  meet  with  very 
many  of  the  clearest  testimonies  with  regard 
to  the  unity  of  God,  in  the  works  of  all  the 
heathen  authors.  That  of  Sophocles  is  very 
remarkable  :  "  there  is  indeed,"  says  he,  "  one 
(iod,  and  but  one,  who  has  made  the  heavens, 
and  the  wide  extended  earth,  the  blue  surges 
of  the  sea,  and  the  strength  of  the  winds."t 

As  to  the  mystery  of  the  sacred  Trinity, 

"  Qunt  nnque  lo.  flexeris,  ibi  Dciim  vides  "ccurrcntem 
tibi,  nihil  ab  illo  vacat  ;  opfs  suum  ipse  iinpict  ;  ergo 
nihil  a^is,  ingratissime  mnrluliuin,  ((iii  te  lu'-jas  Deo 
ch-biTc,  scd  natiira-,  quia  cidciii  est  ulriini<|iic  olficiuin. 
Si  quid  a  Sciic'-a  acwpi^ses,  ct  Anii.io  tc  ditiTcs 
dcbcrr  vcl  r.nrio,  non  crt'ditnrcin  iniiiari's,  scd  tionion, 
qiitmiani  sivo  noiripn  rjii;  dicas,  sivo  jira  niinrn,  sive 
coijntiincn,  idem  tamcn  ipsr  rst.  Sknk.ca,  4.  da 
Himcf. 

rn?s  (i\rjdcvatfjtv,  £15  iartv  Utrty, 


664 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


which  has  a  near  aid  necessary  connexion 
with  the  present  suhjecl,  I  always  thou<iht  it 
was  to  be  received  and  adored  with  the  most 
tumble  faiili,  but  by  no  means  to  be  curiously 
searciied  into,  or  perplexed  wilb  the  absurd 
questions  of  the  schoolmen.  We  fell  by  an 
nrroa;ant  ambition  after  knowledge  ;  by  mere 
faith  we  rise  a;(aiii,  and  are  reinstated.  And 
this  mysiery,  indeed,  rather  than  any  other, 
seems  to  be  a  tree  of  knowledge,  prohibited 
to  us  while  we  sojourn  in  these  trional  bodies. 
This  most  [)rofound  mystery,  though  obscurely 
represented  by  the  shadows  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, rather  than  clearly  revealed,  was  not 
unknown  to  the  most  ancient  and  celebrated 
doctors  among:  the  Jews,  nor  aliogeiher  un- 
attested, however  obstinately  later  authors 
may  maintain  the  contrary.  Nay,  learned 
men  have  observed,  that  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,  are  expressly  acknowledged  in 
the  books  of  the  cabalists,  and  they  produce 
surprising  things  to  this  purpose  out  of  the 
book  ofZohar,  which  is  ascribed  toR.  Simeon, 
Ben  Joch,  and  some  other  cabalistical  writers. 
Nay,  the  book  just  now  mentioned,  after  say- 
ing a  greai  deal  concernins'  the  Three  in  One 
essence,  adds,  "That  this  secret  will  not  be 
revealed  to  all  till  ihecomingof the Messias."* 
I  insist  not  upon  what  is  said  of  the  name 
consisting  of  twelve  letters,  and  another  lar- 
ger one  of  forty-two,  as  containing  a  fuller 
explication  of  tliat  most  sacred  name,  which 
they  call  Hammeiihorash.t 

Nor  is  it  imjjrobable,  that  some  dawn,  at 
least,  of  this  mystery  had  reached  even  liie 
heathen  philosophers.  There  are  some  who 
think  they  can  jirove,  by  arguments  of  no  in- 
considerable weight,  that  Anaxagoras,  by  his 
►uif,  or  mind,  meant  noihins  but  the  Son,  or 
Wisdom  that  made  the  world.  But  the  testi- 
monies are  clearer,  which  you  find  frequent- 
ly among  the  Platonic  philosophers,  concern- 
ing the  Three  subsist  ins;  from  one  :X  more- 
over, they  all  call  the  self-existing  Being,  the 
creating  word,  or,  the  mind  and  the  soul  of 
the  world.W  But  the  words  of  the  Egyptian 
Hermes  are  very  surprising  :  "  The  tuind, 
which  is  God,  together  with  his  word,  pro- 
duced another  creating-mind ;  nor  do  they 
differ  from  one  another,  lor  their  union  is 
liJe."^ 

But  what  we  now  insist  upon  is  the  plain 
and  evident  necessity  ol'  one  Supreme,  and 
therefore,  of  one  Only  Principle  of  all  things, 
and  the  harmonious  agreement  of  mankind 
in  the  belief  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  this 
same  principle. 

This  is  ihe  God  whom  we  admire,  whom 
we  worship,  whom  we  entirely  love,  or,  at 

*  Hoc  arcamim  non  revelabitur  unicuique,  quousque 
♦enerit  Messias. 
t  .Maim.  Mor.  Nov.,  part,  i.,  c.  16. 

JllfOl'  TOiClV  it;  tVOi  VTT^HJTaVTliiV. 

II  Tu  AvTO,  dv  Tiiv  6rjfiinvpvov  >yyof ,  SeU  yovv,  Kai  rijv 
§'0  mii^hOi 


least,  whom  we  desire  to  love  above  a!) 
things;  whom  we  can  neither  express  in 
words,  nor  conceive  in  our  thoughts  ;  and  the 
less  we  are  capable  of  these  things,  so  much 
the  more  necessary  it  is  to  adore  him  with 
the  profoundest  humility,  and  to  love  him 
with  the  greatest  inlenlness  and  Ibrvor 


LECTURE  VIII. 

THE   WORSHIP  OF  GOD,  PROVIDENCE,  AND  TH8 
LAW  GIVEN  TO  MAN. 

Though  I  thought  it  by  no  means  proper  to 
proceed  without  taking  notice  of  the  argu- 
ments that  serve  to  confirm  the  first  and  lead- 
ing truth  of  religion^and  the  general  consent 
of  mankind  with  regard  to  it  ;  yet  the  end  I 
chiefly  proposed  to  myself,  was  to  examine 
this  consent,  and  point  out  its  force,  and  the 
use  to  which  it  ought  to  be  applied  ;  to  call 
off  your  minds  from  the  numberless  disputes 
about  religion,  to  the  contemplation  of  this 
universal  agreement,  as  into  a  more  quiet 
and  peaceable  country  ;  and  to  show  you, 
what  I  wish  I  could  effectually  convince  you 
of,  that  there  is  more  weight  and  force  in  this 
universal  harmony  and  consent  of  mankind  in 
a  few  of  the  great  and  universal  principles,  to 
confirm  our  minds  in  the  sum  and  substance 
of  religion,  than  the  innumerable  disputes 
that  still  subsist  with  regard  to  the  other 
points,  ought  to  have  to  discourage  us  in  the 
exercise  of  true  piety,  or  in  the  least  to  weak- 
en our  faith. 

In  consequence  of  this,  it  will  be  proper  to 
lay  before  you  the  other  propositions  contained 
in  this  general  consent  of  mankind,  with  re- 
gard to  religion.  Now,  the  first  of  these  be- 
ing, that  there  is  one,  and  but  one  Eternal 
principle  of  all  things;  from  this  it  will  most 
naturally  follow,  that  this  Principle  or  Deity 
is  to  be  honored  with  some  worship  ;  and 
from  these  two  taken  together,  it  must  be, 
with  the  same  necessity,  concluded,  that 
there  is  a  providence,  or,  that  (xod  doth  not 
despise  or  neglect  the  world  which  he  has 
created,  and  mankind  by  whom  he  ought  to 
be,  and  actually  is  worshipped,  but  governs 
them  with  the  most  watchful  and  ])erfect  wis- 
dom. 

All  mankind  acknowledge,  hat  some  kind 
of  worship  is  due  to  God,  and  that  to  per- 
form it  is  by  all  means  worthy  of  man  ;  and 
upon  the  minds  of  all  is  strongly  impressed 
that  sentiment, which  Lactantius  expressed 
with  great  perspicuity  and  breviiy  in  thesii 
words,  "  To  know  God  is  wisdom,  and  to  wor 
ship  him,  justice."* 

In  this  worship  some  things  are  natural, 
and  therefore  of  more  general  use  among  al' 
nations,  such  as  vowsand  prayers,  hymns  anu 
praises;  as  also  some  bodily  gestures,  espe- 
cially such  as  seem  most  proper  to  express 

*  Deum  nosse,  sapientia  ;  colere,  ju.stitia 


THE  WORSHIP  OF  GOD. 


665 


everence  and  respect.  All  the  rest,  for  the 
most  part,  actually  consist  of  ceremonies, 
either  of  Divine  institution  or  human  inven- 
tion. Of  this  sort  are  sacrifices,  the  use 
whereof  in  old  times,  very  much  prevailed  in 
all  nations,  and  still  continues  in  the  greater 
pan  of  the  world. 

A  Majesty  so  exalted,  no  doubt,  deserves 
the  highest  honor,  and  the  sublimest  praises 
on  his  own  account ;  but  still  if  men  were 
not  persuaded  that  the  testimonies  of  homage 
and  respect  tliey  ofl'er  to  God,  were  known 
to  him,  and  accepted  of  him,  even  on  this  ac- 
count all  human  piety  would  cool  and  pres- 
ently disappear  ;  and  indeed,  prayers  and 
vows,  whereby  we  implore  the  Divine  assist- 
ance, and  solicit  blessings  from  above,  offer- 
ed to  a  God,  who  neither  hears  nor  in  the 
least  regards  them,  would  be  an  instance  of 
the  greatest  folly  ;  nor  is  it  to  be  imagined, 
that  all  nations  would  ever  have  agreed  in 
the  extravagant  custom  of  addressing  them- 
selves to  gods  that  did  not  hear. 

Supposmg,  therefore,  any  religion,  or  di- 
vine worship,  it  immediately  follows  there- 
from, that  there  is  also  a  providence.  This 
Avas  acknowledged  of  old,  and  is  still  ac- 
knowledijed  by  the  generality  of  all  nations 
throughout  the  world,  and  the  most  famous 
philosophers.  There  were,  indeed,  particu- 
lar men,  and  some  whole  sects  that  denied  it. 
Others,  who  acknowledged  a  kind  of  Provi- 
dence, confined  it  to  the  heavens,  among 
whom  was  Aristotle,  as  appears  from  his 
book  De  Mundo  ;  which  notion  is  justly 
slighted  by  Nazianzen,  who  calls  it  "  a  mere 
limited  Providence."*  Others  allowed  it 
some  place  in  things  of  this  world,  but  only 
extended  it  to  generals,  in  op|)()siiion  to  indi- 
viduals. But  others,  with  the  greatest  justi<;e, 
acknowledged  that  all  things,  even  the  most 
minute  and  inconsiderable,  were  the  objects 
of  it.  "  He  fills  his  own  work,  nor  is  he  only 
over  it,  but  also  in  it."t  Moreover,  if  we  as- 
cribe to  God  the  origin  of  this  fabric  and  all 
things  in  it,  it  will  be  most  absurd  and  incon- 
sistent to  deny  him  the  preservation  and  gov- 
ernment of  it :  for,  if  he  does  not  preserve  and 
govern  his  creatures,  it  must  be  either  be- 
cause he  can  not,  or  because  he  will  not ;  but 
his  infinite  power  and  wisdom  make  it  impos- 
sible to  ddubt  of  the  former,  and  his  infinite 
goodness,  of  the  latter.  The  words  of  Epic- 
tetus  are  admirable:  "There  were  five 
great  men,"  said  he,  "  of  which  number  were 
Ulysses  and  Socrates,  who  said  that  they  could 
not  so  much  as  move  without  the  knowledge 
of  God."t  And  in  ancjther  place,  "  If  I  was 
a  nightingale,  I  would  act  the  partol'a  night- 
ingale ;  if  a  swan,  that  of  a  swan ;  now  that 

t  Opus  suuin  ipse,  iinplot,  nec  solum  prfpest,  sed 
inest. 

}  TltfiTTroi  It  htv  rii>  Kul  o^varrtv^^  kqI  ^WKOareSf  ht  ^eyoi/- 
rts,  Sti  ouicacXfiOu  ■.itiovjicvof.  ApHIAN  ,  lib.  i.,  cap.  ]2. 
1  tpi  Oeuan,  &LC. 


I  am  a  reasonable  creature,  it  is  my  duty  to 
praise  God."* 

It  would  be  needless  to  show,  that  so  great 
a  fabric  could  not  stand  without  some  being 
properly  qualified  to  watch  over  it  ;  that  the 
unerring  course  of  the  stars  is  not  the  eff'ect 
of  blind  fortune  ;  that  what  chance  sets  on 
foot,  is  often  put  out  of  order,  and  soon  falls 
to  pieces ;  that,  therefore,  this  unerring  and 
regular  velocity  is  owing  to  the  influence  of  a 
fixed,  eternal  law.  It  is,  to  be  sure,  a  very 
great  miracle,  merely  to  know  so  great  a  mul- 
titude, and  such  a  vast  variety  of  things,  not 
only  particular  towns,  but  also  provinces  and 
kingdoms,  even  the  whole  earth,  all  the 
myriads  of  creatures  that  crawl  upon  the 
earth,  and  all  their  thoughts  ;  in  a  word,  at 
the  same  instant  to  hear  and  sre  all  that  hap- 
pens t  on  both  hemispheres  of  this  globe: 
how  much  more  wonderful  must  it  be,  to 
rule  and  govern  all  tliese  at  once,  and,  as  it 
were,  with  o'le  glance  of  the  eye  !  When 
we  consider  tnis,  may  we  not  cry  out  with 
the  poet,  "0  thou  great  Creator  of  heaven 
and  earth,  whogovernest  the  world  with  con- 
stant and  unerring  sway,  who  biddest  time  to 
flow  throughout  ages,  and  continuing  un- 
moved thyself,  givest  motion  to  everything 
else,"  Sccj 

It  is  a  great  comfort,  to  have  the  faith  of 
this  Providence  constantly  impressed  upon 
the  mind,  so  as  to  have  recourse  to  it  in  the 
midst  of  all  confusions,  whether  public  or 
private,  and  all  calamities  from  without  or 
from  within  ;  to  be  able  to  say— the  great 
King,  who  is  also  my  Father,  is  the  supreme 
ru'er  of  all  these  things,  and  with  him  all  my 
interests  are  secure  ;  to  stand  firm,  with  Mo- 
ses, when  no  relief  appears,  and  to  look  for 
the  salvation  of  God  from  on  high,  and,  final- 
ly in  every  distress,  when  all  hope  of  human 
assistance  is  swallowed  up  in  des|)air,  to  have 
the  renarkable  saying  of  the  father  of  the 
faithful  stamped  upon  the  mind,  and  to  si- 
lence all  fears  with  these  comfortable  words, 
God  will  provide.  In  a  word,  there  is  nothing 
that  can  so  eff'ectually  conform  the  heart  ot 
man,  and  his  inmost  thoughts,  and  conse- 
quently the  whole  tenor  of  his  life,  to  the 
most  perfect  rule  of  religion  and  piety,  as  a 
firm  belief  and  frequent  meditation  on  this 
Divine  Providence,  which  superintends  and 
governs  the  world,  lie  who  is  firmly  per-' 
suaded,  that  an  exalted  God  of  infinite  v.'is- 
dom  and  purity  is  constantly  present  with 
him,  and  sees  all  that  he  thinks  or  acts,  will, 
to  be  sure,  have  no  occasion  to  overawe  his 
mind  with  the  imaginary  presence  of  a  Laeli 

*  'El  fjiv  driiuiv  fJfteVj  Inolovv  rd  rtif  driMi^of,  ti  kvkvo^ 
tS  Toi  KVKyov,  vvv  (t  AoycAfOj  ti^t  ijit/uv  fxe  f5cc  tqv  Qi6vt 
Ibiil.  cap.  16. 

f  XlavT  ifon      Kui  rrai'T  Iwatcovitv. 
X  ()  .'  qiii  pcipi-tua  iiiuniUirn  rationo  gubomas 
Terrarurii  (  (rliqiie  fsator,  qui  teiiipns  ab  a'VO, 
Ire  jubes  ;  stabilisque  manens  das  cuncta  move- 
ri,  &C. 

BoETHjde  Con.  Philosoph.  lib.  iii.,  mitr  9 


RC6 


1  ilEOLOniCAL  LECTURES. 


us  or  a  Cato.  Josephiis  assigns  ihis  as  the 
source  or  root  of  Abel's  puriiy:  "In  all  his 
actions,"  says  he,  "  he  considered  that  CJod 
was  present  with  him.  and  therefore  made 
ifirtue  his  constant  study  "* 

Moreover,  the  heaihen  nations  acknowl- 
edge this  superintendence  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence over  human  atlairs  in  this  very  respect, 
and  that  it  is  exercised  in  otiserving  the  mor- 
als of  mankind,  and  in  distributing  rewards 
and  punishments.  But  ibis  sujjposes  sotne 
law  or  rule,  either  revealed  from  heaven  or 
stamped  upon  the  hearts  ol'  men,  to  he  the 
measure  and  test  of  moral  good  and  evil,  that 
IS,  virtue  and  vice.  Man,  therefore,  is  not 
Z  li,  a  lawless  creature,  but  capable  of 
a  law,  and  actually  born  under  one,  which  he 
himself  is  also  ready  to  own.  "  We  are  born 
in  a  kingdom,"'  says  the  Raljbinical  philoso- 
pher, "  and  to  obey  God  is  liberty. "t  But 
this  doctrine,  however  perspicuous  and  clear 
in  itself,  seems  to  be  a  little  obscured  by  one 
cloud,  thai  is,  the  extraordinary  success 
which  bad  men  often  meet  with,  and  the 
misfortmes  and  calamities  to  which  virtue  is 
frequently  exposed.  The  saying  of  Brutus, 
"0!  wretched  virtue,  thou  art  regarded  as 
nolhing,"  &c.|  is  well  known  ;  as  are  also 
those  elegant  verses  of  the  poet,  containing  a 
lively  picture  of  the  perplexity  of  a  mind  wa- 
verin?  and  a;  a  loss  upon  this  subject  :  "  My 
mind,"  says  he,  "  has  often  been  perplexed 
with  difficulties  and  doubts,  whether  the  gods 
regard  the  affairs  of  this  earth,  or  whether 

there  was  no  Providence  nt  all  For, 

when  I  considered  the  order  and  disposition 
of  the  world,  and  the  boundaries  set  to  the  sea 
— I  thence  concluded,  that  all  things  were 

secured  by  the  providence  of  God  But 

when  I  saw  the  affairs  of  inen  involved  in  so 
much  darkness  and  confusion,"  &'c.|| 

But  not  to  insist  upon  a  great  many  other 
considerations,  which  even  the  philosophy  of 
the  heathens  suggested,  in  vindication  of  the 
doctrine  ol' P«'ovidence  ;  tiiere  is  one  consider- 
ation of  gre? .  weight  to  be  set  in  opposition 
to  the  whole  of  this  prejudice,  viz.,  that  it  is 
an  evidence  of  a  rash  and  forward  mind,  to 
pass  sentence  upon  things  that  are  not  yet 
perfect  and  brought  to  a  final  conclusion  ; 
which  evcm  the  Roman  stoic  and  the  philoso- 
pher of  Cheronea  insist  upon,  at  large,  on  tiiis 
subject.  If  we  will  judge  from  events,  let  us 
put  off  the  cause  and  delay  sentence,  till  the 
whole  series  of  these  events  come  before  us  ; 
and  let  us  not  pass  sentence  upon  a  success- 

*  ri'iffic  TOti  vttS  dvTOv  TrparTOfievotf  TrapeTvaiTOv  Oeov 
l^Olit^ti>fj  apcTTii  rroovetro.     Antif].,  Hb,  i.,  cap.  3. 
1  III  rf^nn  ri:iti  siiiiiiis,  Di'ti  piirore,  litiertas. 
i  O  t\'  fiMv  dptTti  mi;  ovSiv,  &.C. 
!|  Sepe  mihi  dubiam  triTxit  sententla  mentem 

Cunirerit  supcri  terras,  &c. 

Nam  ciirn  disjjositi  quM'sissem  tedcra  mundi 

PM!Scrii)t()s(|iie  maris  fines — 

 liiiii'  omnia  rchar 

Consilia  finnata  Dei,  &c. 

Sed  cum  res  liominam  tanta  caligine  volvi 

Aspicerem,  &c.  Claudian  in  Rufinum.  lib.  i. 


ful  tyrant  while  he  is  triumphant  befoie  out 
eyes,  and  while  we  are  quite  ignorant  of  the 
fate  that  may  be  awaiting  himself  or  his  son, 
or,  at  least,  his  more  remote  posterity.  The 
ways  of  Divine  justice  are  woiulerl'ul.  "  Pun- 
ishment stalks  silently,  and  with  a  slow  pace  ; 
it  will,  however,  at  last  overtake  the  wick- 
ed."*  But  after  all,  if  we  expect  another 
scene  of  things  to  be  exhibited,  not  here,  but 
in  the  world  to  come,  the  whole  dispuie  con- 
cerning the  events  of  this  short  and  precari- 
ous life,  immediatt.  y  disappears  and  comes  to 
nothing.  And  to  conclude,  the  consent  of 
wise  men,  states,  and  nations,  on  this  subject, 
though  it  is  not  quite  unanimous  and  univer 
sal,  is  very  great,  and  ought  to  have  the  great- 
est weiffht. 

But  all  these  maxims  we  have  mtntioned 
are  more  clearly  taught,  and  more  (irmly  es- 
tablished, in  the  Christian  religion,  which  is 
of  undoubted  truth  :  it  has  also  some  doctrines 
peculiar  to  itself  {Kiwiai  6o(ai],  annexed  to  the 
former,  and  most  closely  connected  with  them, 
in  which  the  whole  Christian  world,  though 
by  far  too  much  dividf^d  with  regard  to  other 
disputed  articles,  are  unanimously  agreed  and 
firmly  united  together. 


LECTURE  IX. 

THE  PLEASURE  AND  UTILITY  OF  RELIGION. 

Though  the  author  of  the  following  passage 
was  a  great  proficient  in  the  mad  philosophy 
of  Epicurus,  yet  he  had  truth  strongly  on  his 
side  when  he  said,  that  "  Nolhing  was  more 
pleasant  than  to  be  stationed  on  the  lofty 
temples,  well  defended  and  secured  by  the 
pure  and  peaceable  doctrines  of  the  wise  phi- 
losophers."! 

Now,  can  any  doctrine  be  imagined  more 
wise,  more  pure  and  peaceable,  and  more  sa- 
cred, than  that  which  (lowed  from  the  most 
perfect  fountain  of  wisdom  and  purity,  which 
was  sent  down  from  heaven  to  earth,  that  it 
might  guide  all  its  followers  to  that  happy 
place  whence  it  took  its  rise  ?  It  is,  to  be 
sure,  the  wisdom  of  mankind  to  know  God, 
and  their  indispensable  duty  to  worship  him. 
Without  this,  men  of  the  brightest  parts  and 
greatest  learning  seem  to  be  born  with  excel- 
lent talents  only  to  make  themselves  misera- 
ble ;  and,  according  to  the  expression  of  the 
wisest  of  kings.  He  thai  increaxelhknoivled^t 
incrcnselh  sorrow,  Eccles.  i.  18.  We  must, 
therefore,  first  of  all,  consider  this  as  a  sure 
and  settled  point,  that  religion  is  the  sole 
foundation  of  human  peace  and  felicity.  This, 
even  the  profane  scoffers  at  religion  are,  in 
some  sort,  obliged  to  own,  though  much 

•  Siyii  icaX  0pa6eT  xoSi  arei^ovoa  fta()\pct  Tois  KaKiiVf 

\   Bene  qnam  munita  tcnere 

Edita  doclrijia  sapientiim  teinpla  serena. 

LuCRETIUt 


THE  PLEASURE  AND  UTILITY  OF  RELIGION. 


667 


Bgainst  their  will,  even  while  they  are  point- 
ing I  heir  wit  against  it :  for  nothing  is  more 
commonly  to  be  heard  from  them  than  thai 
the  whole  doctrine  of  religion  was  invented 
by  some  wise  men  to  encourage  ihe  practice 
oi"justice  and  virtue  through  the  world.  Sure- 
ly, then,  religion,  whatever  else  may  be  said 
of  it,  must  be  a  matter  of  the  highest  value, 
since  it  is  found  necessary  to  secure  advan- 
tages of  so  very  great  importance.  But,  in 
the  meantime,  how  unhappy  is  the  case  of 
integrity  and  virtue,  if  what  they  want  to 
support  them  is  merely  ficiiiious,  and  they 
can  not  keep  their  ground  but  by  means  of  a 
monstrous  forgery  I  But  far  be  it  from  us  to 
entertain  such  an  absurdity  !  For  the  first 
rule  of  righteousness  can  not  be  otherwise 
than  right,  nor  is  there  anything  more  nearly 
allied  or  more  friendly  to  virtue,  than  truth. 

But  relision  is  not  only  highly  conducive 
to  all  the  great  advantages  ofliuinan  life,  but 
IS  also,  at  the  same  time,  most  pleasant  and 
delightful.  Nay,  if  it  is  so  usel'ul,  and  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  the  interests  of  virtue,  it 
must,  for  this  very  reason,  be  also  pleasant  ; 
unless  one  will  call  in  question  a  maxim  uni- 
versally approved  by  all  wise  men,  that 
"  Life  can  not  be  agreeable  without  virtue  ;"* 
a  maxim  of  such  irrefragable  and  undoubted 
truth,  that  it  was  adopted  even  by  Epicurus 
himself. 

How  great,  therefore,  must  have  been  the 
madness  of  that  noted  Grecian  philosopher, 
who.  while  he  openly  maintained  the  dignity 
and  pleasantness  of  virtue,  at  the  same  time 
employed  the  whole  force  of  his  understand- 
ing to  ruin  and  sap  its  foundations  I  For  that 
this  was  his  (ixed  purpose,  Lucretius  not  only 
owns,  but  also  boasts  of  it,  and  loads  him  witii 
ill-advised  praises  for  endeavoring,  through 
tlie  whole  course  of  his  philosophy,  to  I'ree 
the  minds  of  men  from  all  the  bonds  and  lies 
of  religion.  As  if  (here  was  no  possible  way 
to  make  tlicm  hai)[)yand  free  without  involv- 
ing them  in  the  guilt  of  sacrilege  and  allve- 
ism  I  As  if  to  eradicate  all  sense  of  a  Deity 
out  of  the  mind,  were  the  only  way  to  free  it 
from  the  heaviest  chains  and  fetters  !  Though 
in  reality  this  would  be  eflTectually  robbing 
man  of  all  his  valuable  jewels,  of  his  golden 
crown  and  cliain,  all  the  riches,  ornaments, 
and  pleasures  of  his  life:  wliich  is  inculcated 
at  large,  and  wiiii  great  eloquence,  by  a  great- 
er and  more  divine  master  of  wisdom,  the  roy- 
al author  of  the  Proverbs,  who,  speaking  of 
the  precepts  of  religion,  says,  'I'/ici/  shall  be 
an  ornament  of  grace  unto  thi/  head,  and 
chains  ahout  ihy  neck:  and  of  religion,  under 
the  name  of  wisdom.  If  thou  seekest  her  as 
silver,  and  searchest  for  her  as  for  hidden 
trf'axure.  Jlappi/  ix  the  man  that  findelh  wis- 
dom, and  the  man  that  getleth  understand  in  t;. 
For  Ihe  merchandise  of  it  is  belter  than  the 
merchandise  of  stiver,  and  the  t^ain  thereof 
thin  fine  trold.  Wisdom  i!  the  principal 
'king  ;  therefore  get  wisdom,  and  with  all  thy 
*  'Ot>«  eiyai  Ijiiojs        dvcv  r^f  oftriis. 


getting,  get  understanding.  Prov.  i.  9  ;  li.  4; 
xiii.  14  ;  iv.  7. 

And  it  is,  indeed,  verv  plain,  that  if  it  were 
possible  entirely  to  dissolve  all  tlie  bonds  and 
ties  of  religion,  yet  that  it  should  be  so,  would 
certainly  be  the  interest  of  none  but  the  worst 
and  most  abandoned  pan  of  mankind.  All  the 
good  and  wise,  if  the  matter  was  freely  left 
to  their  choice,  would  rather  have  the  vi'orld 
governed  by  the  Supreme  and  most  perfect 
Being,  mankind  subjected  to  his  just  and 
righteous  laws,  and  all  the  affairs  of  men 
superintended  by  his  watchful  providence, 
than  that  it  should  be  otherwise.  Nor  do 
they  believe  the  doctrines  of  religion  with 
aversion  or  any  sort  of  reluctancy,  but  em- 
brace them  with  pleasure,  and  are  excessive- 
ly glad  to  find  them  true.  So  that,  if  it  was 
possible  to  abolish  them  entirely,  and  any  per- 
son, out  of  mere  good  will  to  them,  should 
attempt  to  do  it,  liiey  would  look  upon  the 
favor  as  highly  prejudicial  to  their  interest, 
and  think  his  good  will  more  hurtful  than 
the  keenest  hatred.  ISor  would  any  one  iir 
his  wits  choose  to  live  in  the  world,  at  large 
and  without  any  sort  of  government,  mori 
than  he  would  think  it  eligible  to  be  put  or 
board  a  ship  without  a  helm  or  pilot,  and  Id 
this  condition  to  be  tossed  amid  rocks  ana 
quicksands.  On  the  other  hand,  can  anything 
give  greater  consolation,  or  more  substantial 
joy,*  than  to  be  firmly  persuaded,  not  only 
that  there  is  an  infinitely  good  and  wise  Be- 
ing, but  also  that  this  being  preserves  and 
continually  governs  the  universe  which  him- 
self has  framed,  and  holds  the  reins  of  all 
things  in  his  powerful  hand  :  that  he  is  our 
Father,  that  we  and  all  our  interests  are  his 
constant  concern  ;  and  that  after  we  have  so- 
journed a  short  wiiile  here  below,  we  shall 
be  a^ain  taken  into  his  immediate  presence  ? 
Or  can  this  wretched  life  be  attended  with 
any  sort  of  satisfacuon,  if  it  is  divested  of  this 
Divine  faith,  and  bereaved  of  such  a  blessed 
hope  ? 

Moreover,  every  one  who  thinks  a  srenerous 
fortitude  and  purity  of  mind  preferable  to  the 
charms  and  muddy  pleasures  of  the  flesh, 
finds  all  the  precepts  of  religion  not  only  not 
grievous,  but  exceedingpleasant  and  extreme- 
ly delightful.  So  that,  upon  the  whole,  the 
saying  of  Hermes  is  very  consistent  with  the 
nature  of  things  :  "  There  is  one,  and  but  one 
ffood  thing  among  men,  and  that  is  religion. "t 
Even  the  vulgar  could  not  bear  the  degen- 
erate expression  of  the  player,  who  called  out 
upon  the  stage,  "Money  is  the  chief  good 
among  mankind. "J  But  should  any  one  say, 
"  Religion  is  the  principal  good  of  mankind," 
no  objection  could  be  made  against  it  ;  for 
without  doubt,  it  is  the  only  object  the  beau 
ties  whereof  engage  the  love  both  of  God  and 
man. 

But  the  principal  things  in  religion,  as  I 

*  *I*£i)  Ti  TtjvT(ov  X'tpfia  /let^ov  av  ^a^oif. 

f  'E»i  KOi  fjiomii,  tv  avOfii'itroii  aynDov  h  cvat0cia. 

i  Pfcuiiia  magimiu  guiicris  huinaiu  boiium. 


568 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


have  frequently  observed,  are  just  conceptions 
of  God.  Now,  conceriiin^r  iliis  InKnite  Being, 
some  tilings  are  known  by  the  ligiit  of  nature 
and  reast)n,  others  only  by  the  revelation 
which  he  liaili  been  jileased  to  make  of  him- 
self frum  heaven.  That  tliere  is  a  God,  is  the 
distinct  voice  ol"  every  tuan,  and  of  every  lliing 
witliout  him.  llow  nmch  more,  tiien,  shall 
we  be  contirmcd  in  the  belief  of  this  truth,  if 
We  attentively  view  the  whole  creation,  and 
the  wonderful  order  and  harmony  that  sub- 
sist between  all  the  parts  of  the  whole  sys- 
tem !  It  is  quite  uimecessary  to  show  that  so 
great  a  fabric  could  never  have  been  brought 
into  being  without  an  all-wise  and  powerful 
Creator  :  nor  could  it  now  subsist  without  the 
same  Almighty  Being  to  support  and  preserve 
it.  "Let  men,  therefore,  make  this  their 
constant  study,"  says  Lactantius,  "  even  to 
knowr  their  common  Parent  and  Lord,  whose 
power  can  never  be  perfectly  known,  whose 
greatness  can  not  be  fathomed,  nor  his  eter- 
ni'y  comprehended."*  When  the  mind  of 
man,  with  its  I'aculties,  .comes  to  be  once 
intensely  fixed  ujuni  him,  all  other  objects 
disappearing,  and  being,  as  it  were,  re- 
moved quite  out  of  sight,  it  is  entirely  at  a 
stand  and  overpowered,  nor  can  it  possibly 
proceed  further.  But  concerning  the  doctrine 
of  this  vast  volume  of  the  works  of  God,  and 
that  still  brighter  light  which  shines  forth  in 
the  Scriptures,  we  shall  speak  more  fully 
Hereafter. 


LECTURE  X. 

THE  DECREES  OF  GOD. 

As  the  glory  and  brightness  of  the  Divine 
Majesty  is  so  great,  that  the  strongest  human 
eye  can  not  bear  the  direct  rays  of  it,  he  has 
exhibited  himself  to  be  viewed  in  the  glass 
of  those  works  which  he  created  first,  and, 
by  his  unwearied  hand,  continually  supports 
and  governs.  Nor  are  we  allowed  lo  view 
his  eternal  counsels  and  purposes  through  any 
other  medium  than  this.  So  that,  in  our  cat- 
echisms, especially  the  shorter  one,  designed 
for  the  instruction  of  the  ignorant,  it  might, 
perhaps,  have  been  full  as  proper  to  have 
passed  over  the  awful  speculation  concerning 
the  Divine  decrees,  and  to  have  proceeded  di- 
rectly to  the  consideration  of  the  works  of 
God  ;  but  the  thoughts  you  find  in  it,  on  this 
subjeci,  are  few,  sober,  clear,  and  certain  ; 
and  in  explaining  them,  I  think  it  most  rea- 
sonable and  most  safe  to  confine  ourselves 
within  these  limits,  in  any  audience  what- 
ever, but  especially  in  this  congregation, 
consisting  of  youths,  not  lo  say,  in  a  great 
measure,  of  boys.  Seeing,  therefore,  the  de- 
crees of  God  are  mentioned  in  our  catechism, 

*  Ut  Parentum  suuin.  Dominiimquc  cof^noscan.-r 
cujus  nec  virtus  ii'Stimari  potest,  nec  inagnitudo  per- 
•liici,  uec  eteniitus  coinpreheiidi. 


and  it  would  not  be  proper  to  pass  over  in  si" 
lence  a  matter  of  so  great  moment,  I  shall  ac- 
cordingly lay  before  you  some  few  thoughts 
upon  this  arduous  subject. 

And  here,  if  anywhere,  we  ought,  accord- 
ing to  the  common  saying,  to  reason  but  in 
few  words.  I  should,  indeed,  think  it  very 
improper  to  do  otherwise  ;  for  such  theories 
ouirht  to  be  cautiously  touched,  rather  than 
be  spun  out  to  a  great  length.  One  thing  we 
may  confidently  assert,  that  all  those  things 
which  the  great  Creator  produces  in  diiferenl 
periods  of  time,  were  perfectly  known  to  him, 
and,  as  it  were,  present  with  him,  from  eter- 
nity ;  and  that  everything  that  happens, 
throughout  the  several  ages  of  the  world, 
proceeds  in  the  same  order  and  same  precise 
manner  as  the  Eternal  Mind  at  first  intended 
it  should  ;  that  none  of  his  counsels  can  be 
disappointed  or  rendered  ineffectual,  or  in  the 
least  changed  or  altered  by  any  event  what- 
soever. Known  to  God  are  all  his  works,, 
says  the  apostle  in  the  council  of  Jerusalem. 
Acts  XV.  18.  And  the  son  of  Sirach,  God  sees 
from  everlasting  to  everlastinir,  and  nothing' 
IS  wonderful  in  his  sight.  Nothing  is  new  or 
unexpected  to  him  ;  nothing  can  come  to  pass 
that  he  has  not  foreseen.  And  his  first 
thoughts  are  so  wise,  that  they  admit  no  sec- 
ond ones  that  can  be  supposed  wiser.  And 
this  stability  and  immutability  of  the  Divine 
decrees,  is  asserted  even  by  the  Roman  phi- 
losopher: "  Ii  is  necessary,"  says  he,  "that 
the  same  things  be  always  pleasing  lo  him, 
who  can  never  be  pleased  but  with  what  is 
best."* 

Every  artist,  to  be  sure,  as  you  also  well 
know,  works  according  to  some  pattern; 
which  is  the  immediate  object  of  his  mind  ; 
and  this  pattern,  in  the  all-wise  Creator,  must 
necessarily  be  entirely  perfect,  and  every  way 
complete.  And  if  this  is  what  Plato  intend- 
ed by  his  ideas  (which,  not  a  few,  and  these 
by  no  means  unlearned,  think  very  likely), 
his  own  scholar,  the  great  Stagyrite,  and 
your  favorite  philosopher,  had,  surely,  no 
reason  so  often  and  so  bitterly  to  inveigh 
against  them.  Be  this  as  it  may,  all  who 
acknowledge  God  to  be  the  author  of  this 
wonderful  fabric,  and  all  these  things  in  it, 
which  succeed  one  another  in  their  turns, 
can  not  possibly  doubt  that  he  has  brought, 
and  continues  to  bring  them  all  about,  ac- 
cording to  that  most  perfect  pattern  subsist- 
ing in  his  eternal  councils;  and  that  these 
things  that  we  call  casual,  are  all  unalterably 
fixed  and  determined  to  him.  For  according 
to  that  of  the  philosopher,  "Where  there  is 
most  wisdom,  there  is  least  chance, "t  and 
therefore,  surely,  where  there  is  infinite  wis- 
dom, there  is  nothing  left  to  chance  at  all. 

This  maxim,  concerning  the  eternal  coun- 
sels of  the  supreme  Sovereign  of  the  world, 
besides  that  it  everywhere  shines  clearly  in 

*  Necesse  est  illi  eadem  semper  placere,  cui  nisi 
optima  placere  non  possunt, 
t  Ubi  plus  est  sapicntia;,  ibi  minus  est  casus 


THE  DECREES  OF  GOD. 


669 


Jie  books  of  the  sacred  Scriptures,  is  also,  in 
itself,  so  evident  and  consistent  with  reason, 
that  we  meet  with  it  in  almost  all  the  works 
of  t/ie  philosophers,  and  often,  also,  in  those 
of  tVie  poets.  Nor  does  it  appear,  that  they 
mean  anything  else,  at  least,  for  the  most 
part,  by  the  term  fate ;  though  you  may 
meet  with  some  things  in  their  works,  which, 
I  own,  sound  a  little  harsh,  and  can  scarcely 
be  sufficiently  softened  by  any,  even  the  most 
favorable  interpretation. 

Bifl,  whatever  else  may  seem  to  be  com- 
prehended under  the  term  fate,  whether  ta- 
ken in  the  mathematicial  or  physical  sense, 
as  some  are  pleased  to  distinguish,  it  must  at 
last  of  necessity  be  resolved  into  the  appoint- 
ment and  good  pleasure  of  the  supreme  Gov- 
ernor of  the  world.  If  even  the  blundering 
astrologers  and  fortune-tellers  acknowledge, 
that  the  wise  man  has  dominion  over  tlie 
stars  :  how  much  more  evident  is  it,  that  all 
these  things,  and  all  their  power  and  influ- 
ence, are  subject  and  subservient  to  the  de- 
crees of  the  all-wise  God  !  Whence  the  say- 
ing of  the  Hebrews,  "  There  is  no  planet  to 
Israel."* 

And  according  as  all  these  things  in  the 
heavens  above  and  the  earth  beneath,  are 
daily  regulated  and  directed  by  the  Eternal 
King,  iu  the  same  precise  manner  were  they 
all  from  eternity  ordered  and  disposed  by 
him,  who  u-orketh  all  thmt^s  accordimr  to  the 
counsel  of  his  own  will,  Eph.  i.  11,  who  is 
more  ancient  than  the  sea  and  the  mountains, 
or  even  the  heavens  themselves. 

These  things  we  are  warranted,  and  it  is 
safe,  to  believe.  But  what  perverseness,  or 
rather  madness,  is  it,  to  endeavor  to  break 
into  the  sacred  repositories  ol'  heaven,  and 
pretend  to  accommodate  those  secrets  of  ihe 
Divine  kingdom  to  the  measures  and  meth- 
ods of  our  weak  capacities!  To  say  the 
truth,  I  acknowledge  that  I  am  astonished 
and  greatly  at  a  loss,  when  I  hear  learned 
men,  and  professors  of  theology,  talking 
presumptuously  about  the  order  of  the  Di- 
vine decrees,  and  when  I  read  such  things  in 
their  works.  "  Paul,"  says  St.  Chrysoslom, 
"considering  this  awful  subject  as  an  im- 
mense sea,  was  astonished  at  it,  and  viewing 
the  vast  abyss,  started  back,  and  cried  out 
with  a  loud  voice,  Oh!  the  depth  !  Nor 
is  there  much  more  sobriety  or  moderation 
in  the  many  notions  that  are  entertained,  and 
the  disputes  that  are  commonly  raised,  about 
reconciling  these  Divine  decrees  with  the 
liberty  and  free-will  of  man. 

It  is  indeed  true,  that  neither  religion  nor 
right  reason  will  suffer  the  actions  and  de- 
signs of  men,  and  consequently,  even  the 
very  motions  of  the  will,  to  be  exempted 
from  the  empire  of  the  counsel  and  good 
pleasure  of  God.    Even  the  books  of  the 

*  Non  est  planetani  Israeli. 

WW,  tlrruiv,  <j  (li  ios,  ifcC. 


heathens  are  filled  with  most  express  testi- 
monies of  the  most  absolute  sovereignty  oi 
God,  even  with  regard  to  these.  The  senti- 
ments of  Homer  are  well  known  :*  and  with 
him  agrees  the  tragic  poet,  Euripides  ;  "  0  ! 
Jupiter,"  says  he,  "  why  are  we  wretched 
mortals  called  wise?  For  we  depend  en- 
tirely upon  thee,  and  we  do  whatever  thou 
intendest  we  should."! 

And  it  would  be  easy  to  bring  together  a 
vast  collection  of  such  sayings,  but  these  are 
sufficient  for  our  present  purpose. 

They  always  seem  to  me  to  act  a  very  ri- 
diculous part,  who  contend,  that  the  effect  of 
the  Divine  decrees  is  absolutely  irreconcilable 
with  human  liberty,  because  the  natural  and 
necessary  liberty  of  a  rational  creature  is,  to 
act  or  choose  from  a  rational  motive,  or  spon- 
taneously, and  of  purpose.  But  who  sees 
not,  that,  on  the  supposition  of  the  most  ab- 
solute decree,  this  liberty  is  not  taken  away, 
but  rather  established  and  confirmed  ?  For 
the  decree  is,  that  such  a  one  shall  make 
choice  of,  or  do  some  particular  thing,  freely  ; 
and  whoever  pretends  to  deny,  that  wiiatever 
is  done  or  chosen,  whether  good  or  indiffer- 
ent, is  so  done  or  chosen,  or,  at  least,  may 
be  so,  espouses  an  absurdity.  But,  in  a  word, 
the  great  difficulty  in  all  this  dispute,  is  that 
with  regard  to  the  origin  of  evil.  Some  dis- 
tinguish, and  justly,  the  substance  of  the  ac- 
tion, as  you  call  it,  or  that  which  is  physical 
in  the  action,  from  the  morality  of  it.  This 
is  of  some  weight,  iiut  whether  it  takes  away 
the  whole  difficulty,  I  will  not  pretend  to  say. 
Believe  me,  young  gentleman,  it  is  an  abyss  ; 
it  is  an  abyss  bever  to  be  perfectly  sounded 
by  any  plummet  of  human  understanding. 
Should  aay  one  say,  "  I  am  not  to  be  blamed, 
but  Jove  and  fate, "J  he  will  not  get  off  so, 
but  may  be  nonplused  by  lurning  his  own 
wit  against  him.  The  servant  of  Zeno,  the 
stoic  philosopher,  being  caught  in  an  act  of 
theft,  either  with  a  design  to  ridicule  his 
master's  doctrine,  or  to  avail  himself  of  it  in 
order  to  evade  punishment,  said,  "  It  was  my 
fate  to  be  a  thief."  "And  to  be  punished 
for  it,"  said  Zeno.||  Wherefore,  if  you  will 
take  my  advice,  withdraw  your  minds  from 
a  curious  search  into  this  mystery,  and  turn 
them  directly  to  the  study  of  piety,  and  a 
due  reverence  to  the  awful  majesty  of  God. 
Think  and  speak  of  God  and  his  secrets  with 
fear  and  trembling,  but  disjjute  very  little 
about  them  ;  and,  if  you  would  not  undo 
yourselves,  beware  of  disputing  with  him. 
if  you  transgress  in  anything,  blame  your- 
selves :  if  you  do  any  good,  or  repent  of  ;vil, 
offer  thanksgiving  to  God.    This  is  what  I 

•Toros  Y''P  ""f 's'"'",  Chrvs. 

f  "LI  ZdCjiTt  Srjra  T0O5  ruXaijriSpDut, 
•PpQi'tii'  \eyovai,  "ov  yap  clnp^'li'tOa, 
Apujiei/,  Tt  TOtavT,  av  ai  Toyy(^ai/ri{  Oc\(i}Vm    IkET,  1, 

734. 

{  'OvK  lyui  aiTto!  iijii,  aXKa  fcCf  xai  fioipa. 
II  III  talis  mihi,  innuit,  fuit  Cuiari.    El  ciL'di,  inquit 
Zenn 


G70 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTUEES. 


enrnrstly  recommend  to  you  ;  in  this  T  nc- 
quii'SCf  myself;  und  to  this,  wiicn  much 
tossed  and  distressed  with  doubt  and  difiicul- 
ties,  I  had  recourse,  as  to  a  safe  harbor  If 
any  of  you  think  proper,  be  may  apply  to 
men  of  <ireater  iearnin<r ;  but  let  bim  take 
care  he  meet  not  with  such  as  have  more 
forwardness  and  presumption. 


LECTURE  XL 

THE  CKEATION  OF  THE  WORLD. 

Whoever  looks  upon  this  great  system  of 
the  universe,  of  which  he  himself  is  but  a 
very  small  part,  with  a  little  more  than  ordi- 
nary attention,  unless  bis  mind  is  become 
quite  brutish  within  bim,  it  will,  of  necessity, 
put  him  upon  ct)nsidering  whence  this  beau- 
til'ul  frame  of  things  proceeded,  and  what 
was  its  first  original  ;  or,  in  the  words  of  the 
poet,  "  From  what  principles  all  the  elements 
were  formed,  and  how  the  various  parts  of 
the  world  at  first  came  together."*  • 

Now,  as  we  have  already  observed  in  our 
dissertation  concerning  God,  that  tlie  mind 
rises  directly  from  the  consideration  of  this 
visible  world,  to  that  of  its  invisible  Creator: 
so,  from  the  contemplation  of  the  first  and  In- 
finite 3Iind,  it  descends  to  this  visible  fabric  ; 
and  again,  the  contemplation  of  this  latter 
determines  it  to  return,  with  the  greatest 
pleasure  and  satisfaction,  to  that  eternal 
Fountain  of  goodness,  and  of  everything  that 
exists.  Nor  is  this  a  vicious  and  faulty  cir- 
cle, hut  the  constant  course  of  a  jiious  soul, 
travelling,  as  it  were,  backward  and  forward 
from  earth  to  heaven,  and  from  heaven  to 
warth:  a  notion  quite  similar  to  that  of  the 
anffels  ascending  and  descending  upon  the 
ladder  which  Jacob  saw  in  his  vision.  But 
this  contemplation  by  all  means  requires  a 
pure  and  di'rine  temper  of  mind,  according 
to  the  maxims  of  the  philosopher:  "He  that 
would  see  God  and  goodness,  must  first  be 
himself  good,  and  like  the  Deity. "t  And 
those  who  have  the  eyes  of  their  mind  pure 
and  bright,  will  sooner  be  able  to  read  in 
those  objects  that  are  exposed  to  the  out- 
ward eye,  the  great  and  evident  characters 
of  his  eternal  power  and  Godhead. 

We  shall,  therefore,  now  advance  some 
thoughts  upon  the  creation,  which  was  the 
first  and  most  stupendous  of  all  the  Divine 
works  ;  and  the  rather,  that  some  of  the  phi- 
losophers, wlio  were,  to  be  sure,  positive  in 
asserting  iIh;  being  of  a  God,  did  not  ac- 
knowledge him  to  be  the  Author  or  Creator 
of  the  world.  As  for  us,  according  to  that  of 
;he  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  ch.  xi.  3,  By  faith 
we  U7idersland  that  the  worlds  were  framed 

•  Qnibiisque  exordia  primis 

Oii'iia,  ft  ipse  tencr  inuiuli  conircvcrit  orbis. — 
<^H.,  Kcl  vi 

t  Vcv'w6ta  it  TTpaiTOv  0cociSfi{  rrSf  xai  KnXo{  ci  /itXXti 
itmpaaftai  UtdvTc       Ka\'}t'.  PloT* 


hy  the  u-ord  of  God.  Of  this  we  have  a  dis- 
tinct history  in  the  first  hook  of  Moses  and 
of  the  sacred  Scriptures,  which  we  receive  as 
divine.  And  this  same  ductriiie,  the  proph- 
ets and  apostles,  and,  togetbci  with  them, 
all  the  sacred  writers,  frequently  repeal  in 
their  sermons  and  writings,  as  the  great 
foundation  of  faith,  and  of  all  true  religion. 
For  which  reason,  it  ought  to  be  diligently 
inculcated  upon  the  minds  of  all,  even  those 
of  the  most  ignorant,  as  far  as  they  ari^able 
to  conceive  and  believe  it  ;  though,  to  be 
sure,  it  contains  in  it  so  many  mysteries,  that 
they  are  suflicient  not  only  to  exercise  the 
most  acute  and  learned  understandings,  but 
even  far  to  exceed  their  capacities,  and  quite 
overpower  them  :  which  the  Jewish  doctors 
seem  to  have  been  so  sensible,  or,  if  1  may 
use  the  expression,  so  over  sensible,  of,  that 
they  admitted  not  their  discijiles  to  look  into 
the  first  three  chapters  of  Genesis,  till  they 
arrived  at  the  age  required  for  entering  on 
the  priestly  (jffice. 

Although  the  faith  of  this  doctrine  imme- 
diately depends  upon  the  authority  and  testi- 
mony of  the  Supreme  God  of  truth — for,  as 
St.  Ambrose  expresses  it,  "To  whom  should 
I  give  greater  credit  concerning  God  than  to 
God  himself?"* — it  is,  however,  so  agreeable 
to  reason,  that  if  any  one  choose  to  enter  into 
the  dispute,  he  will  find  the  strongest  argu- 
ments presenting  themselves  in  confirniation 
of  the  faith  of  it,  but  those  on  the  opposite 
side,  if  any  such  there  be  that  deserve  the 
name,  quite  frivolous,  and  of  no  manner  of 
force.  Tatian  declared,  that  no  argument 
more  effectually  determined  bim  tobclieve  the 
Scriptures,  and  embrace  the  Christian  faith, 
than  "  the  consistent,  intelligible  account  they 
gave  of  the  creation  of  the  universe."! 

Let  any  one  that  pleases,  choose  what 
other  opinion  he  will  adopt  upon  this  sub- 
ject, or,  as  it  is  a  matter  of  doubt  and  obscu- 
rity, any  of  the  other  hypotheses  he  thinks 
most  feasible.  Is  he  for  the  atoms  of  Epicu- 
rus, dancing  at  random  in  an  en)pty  space, 
and,  after  innumerable  trials,  throwing  them- 
selves at  last  into  the  beautiful  fabric  which 
we  behold,  and  that  merely  by  a  kind  of 
lucky  hitj  or  fortunate  throw  of  the  dice, 
without  any  Ampbioii  with  his  harp,  to  charm 
them  by  his  music,  and  lead  them  into  the 
building?  To  say  the  truth,  the  Greek  phi- 
losopher had  dreamed  these  things  very  \nel' 
tily,  or,  according  to  more  probable  accounts, 
borrowed  them  from  two  other  blundering 
philosophers,  Democritus  and  Leucippus, 
though  he  used  all  possible  art  to  conceal  it, 
that  he  might  have  to  himself  the  whole 
glory  of  this  noble  invention.  But  whoever 
first  invented  or  published  this  hypothesis, 
how,  pray,  will  he  persuade  us  tliat  things 
are  actually  so  ?  By  what  convincing  argu- 
ments will  he  prove  them?    Or  what  credi- 

*  Ciii  rnim  magis  de  Deo,  quam  Deo  credam  ? — Am. 

BHOSF.. 

Tatian 


THE  CREATION  OF  THE  WORLD. 


671 


ble  witnesses  ivill  he  produce  to  attest  his 
facts?  For  it  would  neither  be  modest  nor 
decent  for  him  nor  his  followers,  to  expect 
implicit  faith  in  a  matter  truly  philosophical 
and  physical,  and  at  the  same  time  of  so 
great  importance  :  especially  as  it  is  their 
common  method,  smartly  to  ridicule  and  su- 
perciliously to  despise  the  rest  of  mankind, 
as  being,  according  to  their  opinion,  too  cred- 
ulous in  matters  of  religion.  But  what  we 
have  now  said  is  more  than  enough  upon  an 
hypothesis  so  silly,  monstrous,  and  incon- 
sistent. 

After  leaving  the  Epicureans,  there  is  no 
other  noted  shift  that  I  know  of,  remaining 
for  one  that  rejects  the  doctrine  of  creation, 
but  only  that  fiction  of  the  peripatetic  school, 
concerning  the  eternity  of  the  world.  This 
Aristotle  is  said  to  have  borrowed  from  a 
Pythagorean  philosopher,  named  Ocellus  Lu- 
canus,  who,  in  that  instance,  seems  to  have 
deserted  not  only  the  doctrine  of  his  master, 
Pythagoras,  but  also  that  of  all  the  more  an- 
cient philcjsophers.  It  is  true,  two  or  three 
others  are  named,  Parmenio,  Melissus,  &c., 
who  are  suspected  to  have  been  of  the  same 
sentiments  with  Ocellus  :  but  this  is  a  matter 
of  uncertainty,  and  therefore  to  be  left  unde- 
termined. And,  indeed,  both  Aristotle  and 
Ocellus  seem  to  have  done  this  at  random,  or 
without  proof,  as  they  have  advanced  no  ar- 
guments in  favor  of  their  new  doctrine,  that 
can  be  thought  very  favorable,  much  less  co- 
gent and  convincing. 

It  is  surely  impossible  to  demonstrate  ihe 
truth  of  their  opinion  h  'priori ;  nor  did  these 
authors  attempt  it.  They  only  endeavored 
to  muster  up  some  difliculties  against  the 
production  of  the  world  in  time,  the  irreat 
weakness  whereof  any  one  who  is  but  tolera- 
bly acquainted  with  the  Christian  religion, 
will  easily  perceive.  Aristotle's  arguments 
rather  make  against  some  notions  espoused 
by  the  old  philosophers,  or  rather  forged  by 
himself,  than  againsi  the  doctrine  of  the 
creation.  Nay,  he  himself  sometimes  speaks 
with  ureat  diffidence  of  his  own  opinion  on 
this  subject,  particularly  in  his  topics,  where, 
among  other  logical  problems,  he  proposes 
this  as  one,  viz.,  "  Whether  the  world  existed 
from  eterniiy  or  not."* 

On  the  contrary,  that  the  world  has  evident 
maiks  of  novelty,  is  acknowledged  by  Lucre- 
tius in  a  remarkable  passage  of  his  poems, 
which  is  vi-ry  well  known.  "  Besides,''  says 
he,  "if  the  earth  and  the  heavens  were  not 
originally  created,  but  existed  from  eternity, 
why  did  not  earlier  poets  describe  the  re- 
markable aciicjns  of  their  times  long  before 
th?  Theban  war  and  the  destruction  of  Troy  ? 
Bui,  in  my  opinio:;,  the  universe  is  not  of  old 
standing,  the  world  is  but  of  late  establish- 
ment, and  it  is  not  lonj;  since  it  had  its  be- 
ginning."   And  more  to  that  purpose.f  But, 

t  Prirtcrea  si  nulla  fiiit  prPiiita  is  orit^o 
Terra;  et  Ca-li,  seiDjierque  a  tcrna  I'uere, 


besides  this,  if  we  duly  consider  the  matter, 
and  acknowledge  the  course  of  the  stars  not 
only  to  be  owing  to  a  first  mover,  but  also, 
that  the  whole  fabric,  with  all  the  creatures 
therein,  derive  their  existence  from  some  Su- 
preme Mind,  who  is  the  only  Fountain  of  Be- 
ing ;  we  must  certainly  conclude,  that  that 
self-existing  Principle,  or  Source  of  all  beings, 
is  by  all  means  eternal,  but  there  is  no  neces- 
sity at  all  that  we  should  suppose  all  other 
things  to  be  coeval  with  it :  nay,  if  it  is  not 
absolutely  necessary,  it  is  at  least  highly  rea- 
sonable and  consistent,  to  believe  the  con- 
trary. 

For,  that  this  world,  compounded  of  so 
many  and  such  heterogeneous  parts,  should 
proceed,  by  way  of  natural  and  necessary  eme- 
nation,  from  that  One  First,  purest,  and  most 
simple  Nature,  nobodv,  I  imagine,  could  be- 
lieve, or  in  the  least  suspect.  Can  it  possibly 
be  thought  that  mortality  should  proceed 
from  the  Immortal,  corruption  from  the  Incor- 
ruptible, and,  what  ought  never  to  be  so  much 
as  mentioned,  even  worms,  the  vilest  animal- 
cules, and  most  abject  insects,  from  the  best, 
most  exalted,  and  most  blessed  Majesty  ?  But, 
if  he  produced  all  these  things  freely,  merel" 
out  of  his  good  pleasure,  and  with  the  facili.y 
that  constantly  attends  almii;iiiy  power,  how 
much  more  consistent  is  it  to  believe,  that 
this  was  done  in  time,  than  to  imagine  it  was 
from  eternity  ! 

It  is  a  very  diflicult  matter  to  argue  at  all 
about  that,  the  nature  whereof  our  most  en- 
larged thoughts  can  never  comprehend.  And 
though,  among  philosophers  and  divines,  it 
is  disputed  whether  such  a  production  from 
eternity  is  possible  or  not,  there  is  probably 
something  concealed  in  the  nature  of  the 
thing,  though  unknown  to  us,  that  might 
suggest  a  demonstration  of  the  impossibility 
of  this  conceit.  For,  what  is  finite  in  bulk, 
power,  and  every  other  respect,  seems  scarce- 
ly capable  of  this  infinity  of  duration  ;  and 
divines  generally  place  eternity  among  the 
incommunicable  attributes  of  God,  as  they 
are  called.  It  seems,  to  be  sure,  most  agree- 
able to  reason,  and,  for  augbt  we  know,  it  is 
absolutely  necessary,  that  in  all  external  pro- 
ductions by  a  free  agent,  the  cause  should  be, 
even  in  time,  prior  to  the  effect ;  that  is,  that 
that  there  must  have  been  some  point  of 
time  wherein  the  being  producing  did,  but 
the  thing  j)raduced  did  not,  exist.  As  to  the 
eternal  generation  in  which  we  believe,  it  is 
within  (rod  himself,  nor  does  it  constitute 
anything  without  him,  or  different  from  his 
nature  and  essence.  Moreover,  the  external 
production  of  a  created  being,  of  a  nature 
vastly  different  from  the  agent  that  is  sup- 
posed to  [iroduce  it,  and  to  act  freely  in  that 
production,  implies,  in  its  formal  conception 

Ciir  supra  helium  Thebanum  et  funera  Trr jae, 
Non  alias  alii  qiioque  res  cecinere  Poetrr, 
Veriirn,  fit  n])inor,  habet  novitatem  somma,  ?»• 
tensque 

Natura  est  mundi,  neque  pridem  exordia  cepit. 


S72 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


(as  the  schools  express  it),  a  translation  from 
noiientiiy  into  being  :  whence  it  seems  ne- 
cessarily lo  lollow,  tiiat  there  must  have 
been  eome  point  of  lime,  wherein  that  crea- 
ted being  did  not  exist. 

The  notions  of  the  Platonists  concerning 
pre-existeat  matter,  do  not  concern  the  pres- 
ent subject ;  but,  to  be  sure,  they  are  as  idle 
and  empty  as  the  imaginary  eternity  of  the 
world  in  its  present  form.  As  angels  were 
not  produced  out  of  matter,  it  is  surely  sur- 
prising, that  tiiose  who  assert  their  creation 
liy  God,  should  find  diflirulty  in  acknowledg- 
ing the  ])roduction  of  oiher  things  without 
pre-existent  matter,  or  even  of  matter  itself 
The  celebrated  maxim  of  the  piiilosophers, 
that  out  of  nothi/i!^,  nothing  ix  produced,  we 
receive,  but  in  a  different  and  sounder  sense, 
viz.,  that  nothing  can  be  produced  but  either 
from  pre-exisient  matter,  or  by  a  productive 
power  in  which  it  was  virtually  contained. 
And,  in  this  sense,  litis  famous  maxim  af- 
fords an  invincible  demonstration  <)  posterio- 
ri (for  the  subject  is  not  capable  of  any  oth- 
er), to  prove  that  there  must  be  some  being 
that  existed  before  any  creature,  and  the 
unity  and  eternity  of  that  being. 

The  great  Creator  ol'tlie  world,  having  all 
things  virtually  in  himself,  needed  neither 
matter  nor  instruments  in  order  to  produce 
them.  By  the  word  of  the  Lord  were  the 
hcavenx  made,  and  all  the  host  of  ihem  by  the 
breath  of  his  mouth.  Psalm  xxxiii.  6.  These 
were  his  levers  and  tools,  the  word  of  the 
Lord,  or  that  effectual  act  of  his  will  which 
gave  being  to  all  things.  "  The  mighty 
Lord  of  all,  called  directly  to  his  holy,  intelli- 
gent, and  creating  word.  Let  there  be  a  sun, 
and  a  sun  immediately  appeared."*  Here, 
he  spoke,  and  it  ivtis  done.  "  The  word  and 
the  effect  showed  themselves  together."!  If 
you  ask  what  moved  infinite  Goodness  to  per- 
form this  great  work  ;  I  answer,  that  very 
Goodness  you  mention.  For  if  as  they  say, 
it  is  the  nature  of  goodness  to  be  always  com- 
municative, that  Goodness,  to  be  sure,  must 
be  the  most  diffusive,  which  is  in  itself  great- 
est, richest,  and  so  very  immense,  tliat  it  can 
not  be  in  the  least  diminished,  much  less  ex- 
hausted, by  the  greatest  munificence.  Here, 
there  is  no  danger  that  that  sbould  happen, 
which  Cicero  prudently  cautions  against,  in 
the  case  of  buman  goodness,  viz.,  "  That  lib- 
erality should  undo  itself":|:  For  that  lib- 
erality must  be  immortal  and  endless,  the 
treasures  whereof  are  infinite. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  doubled,  but  from  this  very 
goodness,  together  with  the  immense  power 
and  wisdom  which  shine  forth  so  brightly  in 
the  creation  and  all  the  creatures,  an  immense 
weight  of  glory  is  reflected  upon  tiie  Creator 
himself,  and  the  source  of  all  these  perfec- 

**  O  ^  naiTwi/  Kvptoi  ivOioii  ov(p<jjl''y€  rw  lavTOV  ayv<i> 
itai  voriTtja  Kat  ^qftiovpyiKu  Aoywtffroj  e\to,  KtU  fi/*a  ro)  tpd- 
»a;,  5lc. 

t  '  Ajio  Titos,  ufta  tnyov. 

t  Ne  libtTulitale  pereat  libcralitas. 


lions.  Nor  must  it  he  denied  that  the  mani. 
fold  wisdom  of  God  i)roposed  this  end  like- 
wise. And  there  is  nothing  more  certain 
than  that,  from  all  these  taken  together,  his 
works,  his  benevolent  and  diffusive  goodness, 
his  power  and  wisdom  illustrated  in  the  crea- 
tion, and  the  glory  that  continually  results 
therefrom,  from  his  wise  counsels,  and  his 
own  most  perfect  nature,  whence  all  these 
things  {low :  nothing  is  more  certain,  I  say, 
than  that,  from  all  these  taken  together,  the 
Divine  Majesty  enjoys  an  eternal  and  inex- 
pressible deliglit  and  satisfaction.  And  thus 
all  things  return  to  that  vast  and  immense 
Ocean,  whence  they  at  first  took  their  rise, 
according  to  the  expression  in  the  Proverbs, 
He  hath  made  all  things  for  himself.  Proverbs 
xvi.  4.  And  the  words  of  the  song  in  the  Rev- 
elations are  most  express  to  this  purpose: 
Thou  art  ivorlhy,  0  Lord,  to  receive  glory, 
and  honor,  and  power,  for  thou  hast  created 
all  things,  and  for  thy  pleasure  they  are,  and 
ivere  created.  Rev.  iv.  11.  Nor  could  it,  in- 
deed, be  otherwise,  than  that  he  who  is  the 
Beginning  of  all  things,  should  also  be  the 
End  of  all ;  a  wonderful  Beginning  without  a 
beginning,  and  an  End  without  an  end.  So 
that,  as  the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the  He- 
brews reasons  concerning  the  oath  of  God, 
As  he  could  swear  by  no  greater,  he  sware  by 
himself ;  in  like  manner  we  may  argue  here, 
as  he  could  propose  no  greater  end  or  design, 
he  proposed  himself  It  was  the  saying  of 
Epicurus,  that  "  the  wise  man  does  every, 
thing  for  his  own  sake  :"*  we,  who  are  other- 
wise taught,  should  rather  say,  that  the  wise 
man  does  nothing  for  his  own  sake,  but  all 
for  that  of  God.  But  the  most  exalted,  to  be 
sure,  and  the  wisest  of  all  beings,  because  he 
is  so,  must  of  necessity  do  all  things  for  him- 
self; yet,  at  the  same  time,  all  his  dispensa- 
tions toward  his  creatures  are  most  bountiful 
and  benevolent. 

That  the  world  was  made  directly  and  im- 
mediately for  man,  is  the  doctrine,  not  only 
of  the  stoics,  but  also  of  the  master  of  the 
peripatetic  school  :  "We  are,"  says  he,  "in 
some  respect,  the  end  of  ajl  things."!  And  in 
another  place,  "  Nature  has  made  all  these 
things  for  the  sake  of  man. "J  Cicero  speaks 
to  the  same  purpose  ;!|  and  Lactaniius  more 
fully  than  either. 'J>  But  Moses  gives  the  great- 
est light  on  this  subject,  not  only  in  his  histo- 
ry of  the  creation,  but  also  in  Deuteronomy, 
wherein  he  warns  the  Israelites  against  the 
worshipping  of  angels,  for  this  reason:  be- 
cause, says  he,  they  were  created  for  the  ser- 
vice of  man.  And  the  sun,  in  Hebrew,  is 
called  Shemosh,  which  signifies  a  servant. 

But  0  !  whither  do  our  hearts  stray  ?— 
Ought  we  not  to  dwell  upon  this  pleasant 

•  Sapientpm  omnia  I'acere  sui  ciiiisa. 
t  Sumus  eiiiiii  et  nos  quadammodo  oiiiniurt>  finis. 
2  Phys.,  tit.  23. 
:j:  Natiira  hominum  gratia  omnia  fecit. 
II  De  Logibiis. 

^  Sol  irrequiptis  cursibus  et  spatiis  inequalibus  orbet 
conficit,  &c.,  ad  iiiiem  capitis,  De  ira  Dei.  Cap.  13,  14. 


THE  CREATION  OF  MAN. 


673 


roritemplation,  and  even  die  in  it  ?  I  should 
choose  to  be  quite  lost  in  it,  and  to  be  ren- 
dered altogether  insensible,  and,  as  it  were, 
dead  to  these  earthly  trifles  that  make  a  noise 
around  us.  0  sweet  reciprocation  of  mutual 
delights  !  The  Lord  shall  rejoice  in  his  icorks, 
says  the  psalmist ;  and  presently  after.  My 
meditation  of  him  shall  be  sweet  :  I  will  be 
glad  in  the  Lord.  Psalm  civ.  31-34.  Let  us 
look  sometimes  to  the  heavens,  sometimes  to 
the  sea  and  the  earth,  with  the  animals  and 
plants  that  are  therein,  and  very  often  to  our- 
selves :  and  in  all  these,  and  in  everything 
else,  but  in  ourselves  particularly,  let  us  con- 
template God,  the  common  Father  of  all,  and 
our  most  exalted  Creator,  and  let  our  contem- 
plation excite  our  love. 

They  who  have  sent  the  ignorant  and  un- 
learned to  pictures  and  images,  as  books  prop- 
er for  their  instruction,  have  not  acted  very 
wisely;  nor  has  that  expedient  turned  out 
happily  or  luckily  fur  the  advantage  of  that 
part  of  mankind.  But  surely,  this  great  vol- 
ume, or  system,  which  is  always  open  and 
exposed  to  the  view  o-f  all,  is  admirably 
adapted  to  the  instruction  both  of  the  vulgar 
and  the  wise :  s^o  that  Chrysostom  had  good 
reason  to  call  it  "  The  great  book  for  the 
learned  and  unlearned."*  And  the  saying  of 
St.  Basil  is  very  much  to  the  purpose :  "  From 
the  beauty  of  those  things  which  are  obvious 
to  the  eyes  of  all,  we  acknowledge  l4ial  his 
inexpressible  beauty  excels  that  of  all  the 
creatures;  and  from  the  magnitude  of  those 
sensible  bodies  that  surround  us,  we  conclude 
the  iiifmile  and  immense  goodness  of  their 
Creator,  whose  plenitude  of  power  exceeds 
all  thought,  as  well  as  expression."! 

For  this  very  end,  it  evidently  appears  that 
all  things  were  made,  and  we  are  the  only 
visible  beings  that  are  capable  of  this  contem- 
plation. "  The  world,"  says  St.  Basil,  "  is  a 
school,  or  seminary,  very  proper  for  the  in- 
struction of  rational  souls  in  the  knowledge 
of  God."t  We  have  also  the  angels,  those 
ministers  of  fire,  to  be  spectators  with  us  on 
this  tlieatre.  But  will  any  of  us  venture  to 
conjecture  what  they  fell,  and  what  admira- 
tion seized  them,  when  they  beheld  those 
new  kinds  of  creatures  rising  into  being,  and 
those  unexpected  scenes  that  were  successive- 
ly added  to  the  preceding  ones,  on  each  of  the 
six  days  of  thai  first  remarkable  week,  when 
he  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  and 
placed  the  corner  stone  thereof;  when  the 
mornin/r  stars  san'j;  together,  and  all  the  sons 
of  God  shouted  for  joy.    Job.  xxxviii.  6,  7. 

But  0,  the  stupidity  of  mankind  !  All  those 
stupendous  objects  are  daily  around  us  ;  but, 

*  Bi/SXioi'  jiiyidTtD  KoX  Htuiraif  Kai  c6fni(. 

f  'E<f  rou  (f'iXXovf  Ti7tv  h^tii^iv'iiv  tov  viripKaXov  Ivvajftc- 
da  (ffli  Ik  row  ^tcycQov^  tiTiv  difrOqrtov  Tovrow  Kai  ncptyarr- 
Toiv  9iA)fniTtt)v  dvaXoyt^tTiiicOa  aTrsipotf  Kai  itrcp^cyiOT]  kqi 
Tatrav  ^idvoiav  in  ro  TrXriOct  rr/j  tavrov  6v\afictof  vmpliai- 

nofTa. — Alex.  hotn.  i. 

X  'O  Koa^oi  ipv^C}!/  XftyiKf7}v  6t^aiTica\ctov  Kai  rrjf  dcoy- 
«<wii(  Traioti/rrtpiot  — AleX.  hom.  i. 

85 


because  they  are  constantly  exposed  to  our 
view,  they  never  affect  our  minds:  so  natural 
is  it  for  us  to  admire  new,  rather  than  grand 
objects.  Therefore,  the  vast  multitude  of 
stars  which  diversify  the  beauty  of  this  im- 
mense body,  does  not  call  the  people  togeth- 
er ;  but  when  any  change  happens  therem, 
the  eyes  of  all  are  fixed  upon  the  heavens. 
"  Nobody  looks  at  the  sun,  but  when  he  is 
obscured  ;  nobody  observes  the  moon,  but 
when  she  is  eclipsed  ;  then  nature  seems  to 
be  in  danger  ;  then  vam  superstition  is  alarm- 
ed, and  every  one  is  afraid  for  himself."* — 
"  But  surely."  says  St.  Bernard,  concerning 
the  sun  and  moon,  "  these  are  great  miracles, 
very  great,  to  be  sure  ;  but  the  first  produc- 
tion or  creation  of  all  things,  is  a  vast  miracle, 
and  makes  it  easy  to  believe  all  the  rest  ;  so 
that,  after  It,  nothing  ought  to  excite  our 
wonder."! 


LECTURE  XII. 


THE  CREATION  OF  MAN. 


This  great  theatre  being  built,  beside  those 
spectators  who  had  been  but  lately  placed  in 
iiie  higher  seals,  it  pleased  the  supreme  Cre- 
ator and  Lord  to  have  another  company  be- 
low, as  it  were,  in  the  area  :  these  he  called 
forth  into  being  by  creation,  and  a  man  was 
introduced  into  this  area,  to  be  a  spectator  of 
him  and  of  his  works,  yet  not  a  spectator  only, 
but  also  to  be  the  interpreter  of  ihem."|  Nor 
yet  was  man  placed  therein  merely  to  be  a 
spectator  and  an  inierpreter;  but  also,  in  a 
great  measure,  to  be  possessor  and  lord  i here- 
of; or,  as  it  were,  the  Creator's  "  substitute, "|| 
in  a  spacious  and  convenient  house,  ready- 
built,  and  stored  with  all  sorts  of  useful  f\jr- 
niture. 

Now,  that  man  himself  is  a  grand  and  no- 
ble piece  of  workmanship,  appears  even  from 
this  circuiTisiaflce,  that  the  most  wise  Opera- 
tor, when  he  was  going  to  create  him,  thought 
fit  to  preface  his  design  with  these  words, 
Let  vs  make  man.  So  that  he  was  created  not 
merely  by  a  word  of  command,  like  the  rest 
of  the  creatures,  but  "  by  a  consultation  of 
the  blessed  Trinity."^ 

And,  indeed,  man  is  a  wonderful  composi- 
tion, the  conjunction  of  heaven  and  earth  ; 

*  Sol  sppctatorem,  nisi  cum  deficit,  non  habot  j  ne- 
mo ol)s<  rv,it  iunam  nisi  laboraiitem  ;  tunc  orbes  con- 
clainaiit,  tunc  jiro  so  qiiisquc  superstilioiic  vana  tre 
pidat. — Sr.NKCA. 

t  Maena  sunt  ha  c  miracula,  ma?na  nimis  ita  est  ; 
miraculuin  auli'iii  immrnsum  est  i|)sa  jiriina  omnium 
I)ro(lu(  tio,  sen  crcatio,  qu'r  iniraculorcni  oiiiuiuni  adt'O 
thcilcin  fidein,  tacit,  nt  post  cam  niliil  sit  luii  uin. 

X  '12?  Oian'jv  re  uwroC  Kni  toiv  avniv  tpXuf  Ktii  oi  jiivop 
Otarriv  ayya  Kai  l(^qyfiTi\v. — ARRIAN. 

^  Kai  iariuis  liominem.  Ut  non  solo  julicntis  ser- 
mon" sicut  ri'li(|iiia,  scd  consilio  sanct;c  'I'rinilatis  con- 
ditus  sit. — .\rnob. 


674 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


*'  llie  breatli  of  God,  and  the  dust  of  the 
ground  :"  tl)c'  bond  of  union  bt-twcen  tlie  vis- 
ible and  the  invisible  world,  and  truly  a 
"  world  ill  niiniaiure,  a  kind  of  mixed  world, 
nearly  related  to  the  other  two."*  Nor  is  he 
only  a  lively  epitome  and  representation  of 
the  g:reater  world,  but  also  dignified  with  the 
image  of  his  great  Creator.  He  made  the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  the  sea  and  the  stars, 
and  then  all  sorts  of  living  creatures  :  but,  in 
tiie  words  of  the  poet,  "  A  more  divine  crea- 
ture, and  more  capable  of  elevated  sentiments, 
was  yet  wanting,  and  one  that  could  rule  over 
the  rest  :  therel'ore  man  was  born."t 

The  rest  of  the  creatures,  according  to  the 
observation  of  the  schoolmen,  wliicli  is  not 
amiss,  had  the  impression  of  the  Divine  foot 
stani])ed  upon  them,  but  not  the  image  of  the 
Deiiy.  These  he  created,  and  reviewing 
them,  found  them  to  be  good,  yet  he  did  not 
rest  in  them  ;  but  upon  the  creation  of  man, 
the  sabbath  immediately  followed.  He  made 
man,  and  then  rested,  having  a  creature  ca- 
pable of  knowing  that  he  was  his  Creator, 
one  that  could  worship  him,  and  celebrate 
liis  sabbath,  whose  sins,  if  he  should  commit 
any,  he  might  forgive,  and  send,  clothed  with 
human  nature,  his  only  begotten  Son,  in  whom 
he  is  absolutely  irell  pleased,  and  over  whom, 
as  the  person  who  fuHilled  his  good  pleasure, 
he  rejoices  for  ever,  to  redeem  his  liivorite 
creature.  By  the  production  of  man,  the  su- 
preme Creator  exhibited  himself  in  the  most 
admirable  light,  and  at  the  same  time,  had  a 
creature  capable  of  admiring  and  loving  him  : 
and,  as  St.  Ambrose  observes,  "  One  that  was 
under  obligation  to  love  his  Creator  the  more 
ardently,  the  more  wonderfully  he  perceived 
himself  to  be  made. "J — "  And  man, "says  the 
same  author,  "  was  made  a  two-footed  ani- 
mal, that  he  might  be,  as  it  were,  one  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  air,  that  he  might  aspire  at 
high  things,  and  fly  with  the  wings  of  sub- 
lime thoughts."|| 

And,  indeed,  the  structure  of  mart  is  an  in- 
stance of  wonderful  art  and  ingenuity,  wheth- 
er you  consider  the  symmetry  of  his  whole 
fabric  taken  together,  or  all  his  parts  and 
members  separately.  Gregory  Nyssen  speaks 
very  much  to  the  purpose,  when  he  says, 
"  The  frame  of  man  is  awful  and  hard  to  be 
explained,  and  contains  ip  it  a  lively  repre- 
sentation of  many  of  the  hidden  mysteries  of 
frod."'^  How  wonderful  is  even  the  struc- 
ture of  his  body  !  which,  after  all,  is  but  the 

*]VIi*:(»ojf(5o-^o5,  fjiKTOi  Tti  *fi5(T/iOff,  avYyr}vfii  roiv  Svo  K6a- 

^uv  Gbeg.  Ny.'s. 

I  Sanstius  his  animal,  montisque  ;  capacius  altfls. 
Deerat  ad  hiic,et  qiioil  domiuari  in  ca>tera  posset, 
Nalus  homo  est. — Ovid.  1  Met. 

}  Fa  quidem  tanto  ardentius  aniarel  conditorem, 
quanto  miraliilins  sc  ab  co  cnnditnm  intelligeret. 

II  F.l  fattus  fst  homo  Iiipes,  ut  sit  unus  quasi  de  vol- 
stilihws,  qui  alia  visu  pptat,  et  quodam  remigio  volitet 
iublimum  cogitalionum. 

rog  Kai  roXXu  nai  dituK^itjia  iv'dvrti  jtvarr^cua  Utoi  c^clkw- 


I  earthen  case  of  his  soul ;  accordingly,  it  is  tn 
the  (^lialdaic  language  called  j\idne,  which 
signifies  a  shentli.    How  far  does  the  work- 
manship exceed  the  materials!    And  how 
I  justly  may  we  say,  "What  a  glorious  crea- 
I  ture  out  ol'  the  meanest  elements!''  The 
l)salmi¥t's  mind  seems  to  have  dwi'*  upon 
this  meditation  till  he  was  quite  lost  m  it : 
How  j'rurfuUy,  says  he,  and  wonde"' nihj  am 
J  made!  Psalm  cxxxix.  14.    And  ttiat  cele 
braied  physician  who  studied  nature  with 
!  such  unwearied  application,  in  his  hook  upon 
the  structure  of  the  human  body,  in  which, 
after  all,  there  is  nothing  divine,  often  ex- 
presses his  admiration  in  these  words,  "  Who 
is  worthy  to  praise  the  wisdom  and  power  of 
■  the  Creator  !"*  and  many  other  such  excla- 
mations.   The  Christian  writers,  however, 
are  most  full  upon  this  subject,  particularly 
St.  Basil, St.  Chrysostom,and  others,  whocarry 
their  observations  so  far  as  the  nails  and  the 
hair,  especially  that  on  the  eyelids.  And  Nys- 
sen, on  the  words,  Let  \>.s  viake  mnu,  has  the 
,  following  observation  :  "  Man  is  a  grand  and 
noble  creature.    How  can  man'  be  said  to  be 
'  any  great  matter,  seeing  he  is  a  mortal  crea- 
1  ture,  subject  to  a  great  many  passions  ;  from 
the  time  of  his  birth,  to  that  of  his  old  age, 
[  exposed  to  a  vast  many  evils  and  distresses  • 
I  and  of  whom  it  is  written,  Lord,  what  tsman, 
i  thai  thou  shculdst  be  mindful  of  him  ?" 
!     "The  history  we  have  of  the  production 
of  man,  delivered  me  from  this  difficulty; 
for  we  are  told  thnl  God  took  some  of  the 
!  dust  of  the  earth,  and  out  of  it  formed  man  : 
from  these  words  I  understood,  that  man  was 
I  at  once  nothing,  and  yet  something  very 
1  grand. "t    He  intended  to  say,  that  the  ma- 
terials out  of  which  man  was  made  were 
low,  and  as 'it  were,  nothing:  but,  if  you 
consider  the  wonderful  workmanship,  how 
great  was  the  honor  conferred  upon  him  ! 
I  "The  earth  did  not  spontaneously  produce 
man,  as  it  did  grasshoppers.    God  did  not 
commit  the  production  of  this  or  that  partic- 
ular creature  to  his  ministering  powers  ;  no, 
the  gracious  Creator  took  the  earth  in  his 
own  hand."t    But  besides  the  noble  frame 
of  his  body,  though  it  was  made  of  the  dust  of 
the  earth,  that  Divine  breath,  and,  by  means 
of  it,  the  infusion  of  a  precious  soul,  mixes 
heaven  and  earth  together  ;  not  indeed  in  the 
common  acceptation  of  that  tertn,  as  if  things 
so  vastly  different  were  promiscuously  jum- 
bled together,  and  the  order  of  nature  sub- 
verted ;  but  only  implying  that  the  two  parts 

"Tif  'KOvof  £<ri  rhv  ^i)/i(otipyi)C  orntjjiavTe  «ai  6vvafiil 

f  Mf'yn  SufBotiiKof  ira'i  Ttjiiov.  '"AXXo  ™4         "  lifOpdJjrot ' 
t6  intKr]Oov  ^(o'tv  ro  ftvpioi^  naOciTip  vvoKCiftcvoi\  to  c/cy*^- 
vCTtif  £i{  yi)«a?  fivpiwv  KaKwv  lofjiv  i^avrXow  WepX  ol  It 
Trnrai.     KCpiE  Ti'f  cariv  0  icOpwnoj,  Iri  rn^vfiTKn  dvTov; 
•  &C.     iiX>a  jiot  Trjir  TOttivrriv  Siarrdpfjaau  cXvmv  'inropia  Tf)$ 

ytttviifTEOiv  TGV  dvdfjtfnrov  ayayvuaBciaa,  &C.  Orat.  ii. 
I       \  OvK  h   Y'i  ovrrtfiirof  oiirep,  rovf  TiTTiyao  t^t/)il«, 
a\\'  oiiK  citrc  Toth  <coi  Thiic  iroiriaai  \etTovpy7Kats  c5vya« 

I  ^£0-11',  oxx  1^10  X'-'?'  <i"^o'''x'"'  y''"  ^^"i^"- 


THE  CREATIOW  OF  MAN. 


'575 


of"  the  human  constitution  are  compounded 
with  inexpressible  art,  and  joined  m  a  close 
union.  As  to  the  misery  of  the  human  race, 
and  the  contemptible  figure  in  which  the  lil'e 
of  man  appears,  it  is  to  be  ascribed  to  an- 
other source,  very  different  from  the  earthly 
materials  out  of  v/hich  his  body  was  made. 
Tliat  he  was  created  happy,  beautiful,  and 
honorable,  he  owed  to  his  great  and  good 
Creator  ;  but  he  himself  is  the  author  of  his 
own  misery.  And  hence  it  is,  that  though, 
with  regard  to  his  original  and  pure  nature, 
we  ought,  for  the  strongest  reasons,  to  sneak 
more  honorably  of  him  than  of  any  other 
part  of  the  visible  world  ;  yet,  if  we  view 
him  in  his  present  circumstances,  no  part  of 
the  creation,  to  be  sure,  deserves  to  be  la- 
mented in  more  mournful  strains. 

But  what  words  can  express,  what  thoughts 
can  comprehend,  the  dignity  and  powers  of 
that  heavenly  soul  that  inhabits  this  earthly 
body,  and  the  Divine  image  that  is  stamped 
upon  it  ?  The  philosophers  of  all  ages  and 
nations  have  been  inquiring  into  the  nature 
of  il,  and  have  not  yet  found  it  out. 

A  great  many  have  also  anmsed  them- 
selves with  too  whimsical  conjectures  and 
fancies,  and  have  endeavored  to  discover, 
by  very  different  methods,  a  figure  of  the 
blessed  Trinity  in  the  faculties  of  the  soul. 
Nor  was  Methodius  satisfied  with  finding  a 
representation  of  this  mystery  in  the-soul  of 
every  particular  man,  but  also  imagined  he 
had  discovered  it  in  the  first  three  persons  of 
I  lie  human  race,        Adam,  Eve,  and  their 
lirst-borii  Sun  ;  because  in  them  he  found  un- 
hf  1^1,1  If II .  hf^nlleii,  and  proceedintr,  as  also 
unilii  of  iiaime,  and  the  oriffinalion  of  all 
mankind.    But  not  to  insist  upon  tliese,  it  is 
certain  the  rational,  or  intellectual,  and  im-  I 
mortal  soul,  so  long  as  it  retained  its  original  ' 
purity,  was  adorned  with  the  lively  and  re-  i 
fulgent  image  of  the  Father  of  Spirits,  its  ' 
eternal  Creator  :  but  afterward,  when  it  be-  I 
came  polluted  and  stained  with  sin,  this  im-  i 
age,  though  not  immediately  (juite  ruined, 
was,  however,  miserably  obscured  and  de- 
faced.   It  is  true,  the  beautiful   and  erect 
frame  of  the  human  body,  which  gives  it  an  j 
advantage  over  all  other  creatures,  and  some  j 
other  external  graces  that  man  possesses,  I 
may  possibly  be  some  reflected  rays  of  the  1 
Divine  excellence;  but  I  should  hardly  call  , 
them  the  image  of  God.    As  St.  Ambrose 
well  observes,  "How  can  flesh,  which  is  but 
earth,  be  said  to  be  made  after  the  image  of  i 
God,  in  whom  there  is  no  earth  at  all  ?  And 
shall  we  be  said  to  be  like  God,  because  we 
are  of  a  higher  rank  than  sheep  and  does?"* 

The  dcjtninion  over  the  rest  of  the  crea- 
ares  which  man  enjoys,  is  a  kind  of  faint  [ 
shadow  of  the  absolute  and  unlimited  sway; 
of  the  supreme  Majesty  of  heaven  and  earth.  ! 
I  dare  not,  however,  venture  to  say,  it  is  that 

*  Cam  torra  fsti  qui  dicaturad  iinap;inem  Dei  facta, 
cum  in  Deo  torra  non  sit  ?  ot  an  on  Dei  similes  dice- 
fnur,  aoia  damulis  ataue  ovibus  celsiores  sumus  ?  | 


'image  of  which  we  are  speaking;  but,  as 
I  those  who  draw  the  picture  of  a  king,  after 
!  laying  down  the  lineaments  of  the  face  and 
body,  use  to  add  the  purple  robe  and  other 
ensigns  of  royaltv,  this  dominion  may  cer- 
,  tainly  supply  the  place  of  these,  with  regard 
!  to  this  image  of  God  on  man.  But  the  lively 
colors  in  which  the  image  itself  is  drawn, 
are,  says  Nyssen,  "  purity,  absence  of  evil, 
understanding,  and  speech."*    For  even  the 
eternal  Son  and  the  wisdom  of  the  Father 
seem  to  be  intended  by  the  philosophers  un- 
der the  term  of  The  Creating-  Mind  ;+  and 
i  by  the  divine  apostle,  John,  he  is  called  The 
i  Word.    To  these  we  have  very  good  ground 
to  add,  charity,  as  nothinsr  can  be  named  that 
renders  man  iikcr  to  God  4  for  "  God  is  love, 
and  the  fountain  of  it."||    It  is  true,  charity 
is  a  valuable  disposition  of  the  mind,  but  it 
also  discovers  itself  in  the  frame  of  the  hu- 
man body  ;  for  man  was  made  quite  defence- 
less, having  neither  horns,  claws,  nor  sting, 
but  naked  and  harmless,  and,  as  it  were, 
entirely  formed  I'or   meekness,  peace,  and 
charity. 

The  same  author,  speaking  of  the  image 
of  God  on  man,  expresses  himself  as  follows: 
"  Wherefore,  that  you  may  be  like  God,  ex- 
ercise liberality  and  beneficence,  study  to  be 
innocent,  avoid  every  crime,  subdue  all  the 
motions  of  sin — conquer  all  the  beasts  that 
are  within  you.  What,  you  will  say,  have  I 
beasts  within  me?  Yes,  you  have  beasts, 
and  a  vast  number  of  them.  And  that  you 
may  not  think  1  intend  to  insult  you,  is  anger 
an  inconsiderable  beast,  when  it  Barks  in 
your  heart?  What  is  deceit,  when  it  lies 
hid  in  a  cunning  mind  ;  is  it  not  a  fox  ?  Is 
not  the  man  who  is  furiously  bent  U|)on  ca- 
lumny, a  scorpion  ?  Is  not  the  person  who 
is  eagerly  set  on  resentment  and  revenge,  a 
most  venomous  viper?  What  do  you  say 
of  a  covetous  man  ;  is  he  not  a  ravenous 
wolf?  And  is  not  the  luxurious  man,  as  the 
propliet_expresseth  it,  a  neighinar  horse  ?  Nay, 
there  is  no  wild  beast  but  is  found  within  us. 
And  do  you  consider  yourself  as  lord  and 
prince  of  the  wild  boasts,  because  you  com- 
mand those  that  are  without,  though  you 
never  think  of  subduing  nr  setting  bounds  to 
those  that  are  within  you?  What  advantage 
have  you  by  your  reason,  which  enables  you 
to  overcome  lions,  if,  after  all,  you  yourself 
are  overcome  by  anger?  To  what  purpose 
do  you  rule  over  the  birds,  and  catch  them 
with  giny,  if  you  yourself,  with  the  incon- 
stancy of  a  bird,  are  hurried  hither  and  thith- 
er, and  sometimes  flying  high,  are  ensnared 
by  pride,  sometimes  brought  down  and  caught 
by  pleasure  ?  But,  as  it  is  shamel'ul  for  him 
whf)  rules  over  nations  to  be  a  slave  at  home, 
and  for  the  man  who  sits  at  the  helm  of  the 
state  to  be  meanly  subjected  to  the  beck  of 

t  A/|^l0t)f>y0w. 
J  Or.oct6carcouv* 


«76 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


H  contemptible  liarlot,  or  even  of  an  inipcri-  ] 
mis  wile  :  will  it  nut  t)e,  in  like  manner,  dis- 
graceful for  you,  who  exercise  dominion  over 
the  heasis  that  are  without  you,  lu  be  sub- 
ject to  a  s^reat  many,  and  those  of  the  worst 
sort,  that  roar  and  domineer  in  your  distem- 
pered mnid  ?"* 

I  shall,  last  of  all,  here  subjoin  what  some 
of  the  ancients  have  observed,  viz.,  that  the 
nature  of  the  human  boul,  as  it  lies  hid  out 
of  sight,  and  is  to  us  quite  unknown,  bears 
an  evident  resemblance  to  that  of  God,  who 
is  himself  unsearchable,  and  i)ast  finding 
out.t 

"But  when  we  have  well  considered  all 
these  things,  and  the  many  other  thoughts  of 
this  kind  that  may  occur,  may  we  not  cry 
out.  How  surprising  and  shocking  is  the 
madness  and  fully  of  mankind  ;  the  far  great- 
er i)art  whereof,  as  if  they  had  quite  forgot 
their  original  and  native  ditriiity,  disparage 
themselves  so  far  as  to  pursue  the  meanest 
objects,  and  shamefully  plunge  themselves 
in  mud." 

The  words  of  Epictelus  are  divine,  and 
have  a  wonderful  savor  of  piety  :  "  You  go 
to  the  city  of  Olympia,"  says  he,  "  to  see 
some  of  the  works  of  Phidias  ;  but  you  have 
no  ambition  to  convene,  in  order  to  under- 
stand and  look  at  those  works  which  may  be 
seen  without  travelling  at  all.  Will  you  nev- 
er understand  what  you  are,  nor  why  you 
were  brought  into  the  world  ;  nor,  finally, 
what  that  is  which  you  have  now  an  oppor- 
tunity to  view  and  contemplate  ?"t  And  in 
another*  place,  "  For  if  we  were  wise,  what 
have  we  else  to  do,  both  in  public  and  in  pri- 
vate, but  to  [iraise  and  celebrate  the  Deity, 
and  to  return  our  thanks  to  him  ?  Ought  we 
not,  while  we  are  digging,  ploughing,  and 
eating,  to  sing  to  God  this  hymn  ? — Great  is 
the  Lord,  who  has  provided  us  with  those 
necessaries  of  life."||  ^c. 

As  for  you,  young  gentlemen,  I  would 
nave  you  to  be  sensible  of  the  honor  and 
dignity  of  your  origmal  state  ;  and  to  be 
deeply  impressed  with  the  indignity  and  dis- 
grace of  your  nature,  now  fallen  and  vitia- 
ted. And  dwell  particularly  upon  the  con- 
templation of  it.    Suffer  not  the  great  honor 

*  Otto  ooiv  ftoioi  trrri  ita  rfj^  j^ortfT^TriTOi^  iia  rrji  avt~ 
^tKaKiai,  Sia  koi^  vtoviag,  fiiaoTTovT}p6i  ojv  Ka'i  KaraKftaroiv 

/^oj  tv  ifiavTo}'  Kai  fivfiia  TroXuf  S^Xov  ei>  col  6rioiu}v 
f^tff,  *rai  /if)  vlhwv  vufitaa^  aiVrjt  to  \ty6u€i'voi'*  Yloaoi' 
Bijpiov  ecrif  ct  O'jfjoi  Stuv  v^aKTfj  ri)  Kup^ia,  SlC* 

^  K.rir'  ciicSm  rvTrmfiv  rov  dviJvv[i<iVj  Kal  dyvoypitTTOv 

J  Eij  d\vjiTTLav  psv  dioSn^tciTCj  iv  ti^nre  to  cpyov  tov 
^£i^'ir;4«--oroT)  fJc  oi^  diTo6riiitifTai  ^ptia  cttiv  ravTa  i5e  Oed- 
paaf^ai  Kai  tcaTavon^at  ovk  cnSvpiazTC  ovK  nluOiifrcfrOc  Toivvv 
fVTc  rtft^j  efTTCj  oirt  Itti  ti  ycyfivare,  oit'  hi  ti  tovto  ioTiv 
if'  0  TOV  Otav  irnosiXni^aTts.  Arr.  lib.  i.,  cap.  6. 

ji  'Ei  yap  voUv  tt^OfMtv^  liXAd  ri  fr^f*  vpd^  ttoicTv  koX 
soivfi  Kiu  iSia  fl  Vfiveiv  to  Qtoiv  Kai  eitpjijUtv  kui  cne^ip^ttrdat 
tai  ^doiTOi  ;  ovk  e6ci  kqi  ffKarrovraf  Kai  dpovvTai  Kat  iOaiov- 
ra?  aSstVy  /J«y<Ji  o  Osoi  ort  tifttv  irapc^zv  opyava  ravra* 
tg'V,  cap.  18. 


and  dignity  of  the  human  race,  which  is  to 
know  the  eternal  and  invisible  God,  to  ac 
knowledge  him,  love  him,  and  worship  him, 
to  decay  and  die  away  within  you.  This, 
alas!  is  the  way  of  the  far  greater  part  of 
the  world;  but  do  you  live  in  continual  re- 
membrance of  your  original,  and  assert  youi 
claim  to  heaven,  as  being  originally  from  i«, 
and  soon  to  return  to  it  again. 


LECTURE  XHL 


PROVIDENCE. 


The  doctrines  we  have  been  handling,  are 
the  great  supports  of  faith,  piety,  and  the 
whole  of  religion  :  wherefo'-e,  it  is  most  just, 
tha  the  zeal  and  care  of  the  scholars  should 
concur  with  that  of  their  teachers,  to  have 
them  well  secured  in  the  mind  and  affections  ; 
for,  "a  aeak  foundation,"  as  the  lawyers  ob- 
serve, "  is  the  ruin  of  the  work."*  There 
are  two  principal  pillars,  and,  as  it  were,  the 
Jachin  and  Boaz  of  the  living  temples  of 
God,  which  the  apostle  to  the  Hebrews  lays 
down  in  these  words:  He  that  comelh  to  God 
(under  which  expression  are  comprehended 
every  devout  affection  and  every  act  of  re- 
ligiuus  worship)  must  believe  that  God  is,  and 
that  he  is  a  rewardcr  of  them  that  diligently 
seek  him.  Heb.  xi.  6. 

That  God  is,  implies  not  only  that  he  is 
eternal  and  self-existent,  but  also,  that  he  is, 
to  all  other  beings,  the  spring  and  fountain 
of  what  they  are,  and  what  they  have;  and 
consequently,  that  he  is  the  wise  and  power- 
ful Creator  of  angels  and  men,  and  even  of 
the  whole  universe.  This  is  the  first  partic- 
ular, that  God  is.  The  second,  that  he  is  a 
reicarder  of  them  that  diligently  seek  him, 
ascertains  the  providence  and  government  of 
God,  exemplified  in  its  most  eminent  effect, 
with  regard  to  mankind.  For  providence 
extends  further  than  this,  and  comprehends 
in  it  a  constant  preservation  and  support  of 
all  things  visible  and  invisible,  whetlier  in 
heaven  or  earth,  and  the  sovereign  govern- 
ment and  disposal  of  them.  Mechanics, 
when  they  have  completed  houses,  ships,  and 
other  works  they  have  been  engaged  in, 
leave  them  to  take  their  fate  in  the  world, 
and,  for  the  most  part,  give  themselves  no 
further  trouble  about  the  accidents  that  may 
bel'all  them.  But  the  supreme  Architect  and 
wise  Creator,  never  forsakes  the  work  of  his 
hands,  but  keeps  his  arms  continually  about 
it,  10  preserve  it ;  sits  at  the  helm  to  rule 
and  govern  it ;  is  himself  in  every  parr  of  it, 
and  fills  the  whole  with  his  presence.  Sc 
great  a  fabric  could  not  possibly  stand  with- 
out some  guardian  and  ruler ;  nor  can  this  he 
any  other  than  the  Creator  himself.  For  who 
can  pay  a  greater  regard  to  it,  support  it 
more  effectually,  or  govern  it  with  greater 
•  Debile  enim  fundamcntum  fallit  opus. 


PROVIDENCE. 


67T 


wisdom,  than  he  who  made  it?  "Nothing 
,an  be  more  perfect  than  God  ;  tiierefore  it 
is  necessary  the  world  should  be  governed  by 
him,"  says  Cicero.  And  "they  who  take 
away  providence,  though  they  acknowledge 
God  in  Words,  in  fact  deny  him."* 

If  we  believe  that  all  things  were  produced 
out  of  nothing,  the  consequence  is,  that,  by 
the  sarr  e  powerful  Hand  that  created  them, 
they  m'lst  be  preserved  and  supported,  to 
keep  them  from  falling  back  into  tlieir  primi- 
tive nothingness.  It  must  be  also  owned, 
that  by  the  same  powerful  Hand,  the  regular 
motions  of  the  stars,  the  contexture  of  the  ele- 
mentary "world,  the  various  kinds  of  creatures, 
and  the  uninterrupted  succession  of  their  vene- 
rations, are  continued  and  preserved.  Nor  is 
Divine  providence  to  be  confined  within  the 
heavens,  or  in  the  lower  world,  restrained  to 
the  care  of  generals  in  opposition  to  individu- 
als ;  although  the  peripatetic  school  inclined 
too  much  to  this  opinion,  and  even  the  mas- 
ter of  that  school,  Aristotle  himself,  in  his 
often-quoted  book,  if  it  really  be  his,  De 
Mundo-  For  that  providence  extends  to  all 
things  in  this  lower  globe,  from  the  highest 
to  the  lowest,  and  comprehends  within  its 
sphere  particular  as  well  as  general  things, 
the  least  as  well  as  the  greatest,  is  confirmed 
not  only  by  the  doctrine  of  the  sacred  Scrip- 
ture, but  also  by  the  testimony  of  all  sound 
philosophy. 

Therefore,  in  maintaining  the  doctrine  of 
Providence,  we  affirm,  1st,  That  the  Eternal 
Mind  has  an  absolute  and  perfect  knowledge 
af  all  things  in  general,  and  every  single  one 
in  particular.  Nor  does  he  see  only  ihose 
that  are  actually  present,  as  they  appear  in 
their  order  upon  the  slase  of  the  world,  hut, 
at  one  view,  comprehends  all  that  are  passed, 
as  well  as  that  are  to  come,  as  if  they  were 
actually  present  before  him.f  This,  the  an- 
cient philosopher  Thales  is  said  to  have  as-  | 
serted  expressly,  even  with  regard  to  the 
hidden  motions  and  most  secret  thoughts  of 
the  human  mind:  for  beini;  asked,  "  If  any 
one  that  does  evil  can  conceal  it  from  God  ?" 
he  answered,  "  No,  not  even  his  evil 
thoughts."t  "  Nothinff  is  left  unprovided 
for,"  says  St.  Basil,  "  nothing  is  overlooked 
by  God  :  his  watchful  eye  sees  all  things  ; 
he  is  present  everywhere  to  give  salvation  to 
all. "II  Epictetus  has  also  the  same  divine 
thoughts  upon  this  subject.'yi 

And  here,  were  any  one  to  reflect  seriously 
on  the  vast  number  of  affairs  that  are  con- 
•tantly  in  agitation  m  one  province,  or  even 

•  Nihil  C»20  pri  stantius  ab  eo  igitiir  rogi  nocesse 
est.  Qui  providontiam  ne^ant,  vcrvis  licet  Deum  po- 
Qunl,  fip^a  tr)lliint. 

f  Xar'  top  a  rar  iTtrtifj^va  vpor'  eaifra, 

X  *Et  Ocdv  rij  ^aO'ji  KaKoi/  t'i  irpaucow  \  tiW  ovSi  itavoV' 

H  'Ouri^i-  airpipdrtTov,  oviiu  fific\rift€vov  iraoa  Oeo}  wavra 
1UI  Tqv  flt.trnamv* 

^  Arr.,  lib.  i.,  cap.  St. 


'  in  one  city,  the  many  political  schemes  and 
1  projects,  thAiultiplicity  of  law  matters,  the 
still  greater  number  of  family  affairs,  and  all 
the  particulars  comprehended  under  so  many 
general  heads,  he  would  be  amazed  and  over- 
j  powered  with  the  thoughts  of  a  knowledge 
so  incomprehensibly  extensive.  This  was 
the  very  thought  which  excited  the  divine 
psalmist's  admiration,  and  made  him  cry  out 
with  wonder  and  astonishment,  Stech  knowl- 
edge IS  too  ironderful  for  me  ;  it  is  high  ;  1 
can  7uit  attain  unto  it.  Psalm  cxxxix.  6. 
j  2dly,  He  not  only  knows  all  things,  and 
[  takes  notice  of  them,  but  he  also  rules  and 
governs  them.  He  hath  done  whatever  he 
pleased  in  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  says  the 
psalmist.  Psalm  cxxxv.  6.  And  he  worketh 
mU  things,  says  the  apostle,  according  to  the 
counsel  of  his  own  will.  Eph.  i.  11.  He  does 
all  thinffs  according  to  his  pleasure,  but  that 
pleasure  is  influenced  by  his  reason  ;  all 
things  absolutely,  but  yet  all  things  with  the 
greatest  justice,  sanctity,  and  prudence. 

He  views  and  governs  the  actions  of  man 
in  a  particular  manner :  he  hath  given  him  a 
law  :  he  hath  proposed  rewaiJs,  annexed  pun- 
ishments to  enforce  it,  and  engage  man's  obe- 
dience. And  having  discovered,  as  it  were, 
an  extraordinary  concern  about  him,  when 
he  made  him  (as  we  have  observed  upon  the 
words  L''t  us  make  man),  in  like  manner,  he 
still  continues  to  maintain  an  uncommon 
good-will  toward  him,  and,  so  to  speak,  an 
anxious  concern  about  him.  So  that  one  of 
the  ancients  most  justly  called  man  "God's 
favorite  creature."  And  he  spoke  much  to 
the  purpose,  who  said,  "God  is  neither  a  lov- 
er of  horses,  nor  of  birds,  but  of  mankind."* 
With  regard  to  the  justice  of  the  supreme 
government  of  Providence,  we  meet  with  • 
great  deal,  even  in  the  ancient  poets. 

"O  father  Jove,"  says  vE^chylus,  "thou 
reiffnest  in  heaven,  thou  takest  notice  of  the 
rash  and  wicked  actions  of  gods  and  men. 
Thy  care  even  extends  to  the  wild  beasts; 
thou  observest  the  wrongs  done  them,  and  se- 
curest their  privileges."t 

"  Though  justice,"  says  Euripides,  "  comes 
late,  it  siill  is  justice  :  it  lies  hid,  as  it  were, 
in  ambush,  till  it  finds  an  opportunity  U)  in- 
flict due  punisliincnt  upon  the  wicked  man. "J 

"Dost  thou  think,"  says  jEschylus,  "to 
get  the  better  of  the  divine  knowledge,  and 
that  justice  stands  at  a  distance  from  the  hu- 
man race  ?  She  is  near  at  hand,  and  sees 
without  being  seen  ;  she  knows  who  ought 
to  be  punished  ;  but  when  she  will  sudden- 

*  'OOciJf  i>iXinnoi,attc^i^opi/t(  liWi'i  ij>i\iir9pitmtft 

t  Q  Zi'ii  JTiirep,  7ttv,  o6v  yLt,v  nvpttpov  tcpdroi, 

iju  (5'  ipy'  C'f'>v/>iivi(j}if  Kat  avOpi-'uroJi/  bpai 
A.tt>}pyii  KnOcfiitTTa.     Soc  Kui  Orjpiuiv 

'Y0pif  Tt  Kat  iiKTi  iit'^tt- 
J  Ac'iT'l  TUT  "^povioi 

AXA*  o//f.J5  hTTowtaova' 

'FjA'iOcv  oral*  cj^rj 

TtV    d<Tt,Pf}  ffpOTOJVm 


678 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


ly  fall  upon  the  wicked,  thai  thou  knowest  ' 
not."*  • 

•'  The  weight  of  justice,"  says  tlie  same 
authi^r,  ill  another  place,  ''falls  u\mi\  some 
quickly  in  the  dayiiuie,  it  lies  in  wait  for 
some  !-iiis  till  the  twiliijht  ;  the  loiisjer  it  is 
delayed,  the  severer  ilu'  puiiishiiieiit  ;  accord-  j 
iiigly,  some  are  consiirned  to  denial  night. "t 

There  are  two  ditliculiies,  however,  on  this 
head,  which  are  noi  easily  solved.  Isi,  The 
success  that  commonly  attends  the  wicked 
in  this  world,  and  the  evil  to  which  the  good  j 
are  exposed.  On  this  suhject.  even  the  phi- 
losophers, pleading  the  cause  of  (lod  (which, 
if  we  take  their  word,  iliey  thought  a  matter 
of  no  great  dilFicultv),  ad  vanced  a  great  many 
things.  Seneca  tells  us,  "  There  is  a  settled 
friendship,  nay,  a  near  relation  and  similitude 
between  (lod  and  good  men:  he  is  even  their 
father.;  but,  in  their  education  he  inures  them 
10  hardships.  When,  therefore,  you  see  them 
stru£rgliiig  with  dilhculties,  sweating,  and 
employed  in  up-hill  work  ;  while  the  wicked, 
on  the  oilier  hand,  are  in  hig^i  spirits,  and 
swim  in  pleasures  ;  consider,  that  we  are  i 
pleased  with  modesty  in  our  children,  and 
forwardness  in  our  slaves  ;  the  former  we 
kee|)  under  by  severe  discipline,  while  we 
encourage  impudence  in  the  latter.  Be  per- 
suaded ihat  God  takes  the  same  method. 
He  does  not  pamper  the  good  man  with  de- 
licious fare,  but  tries  hiin  ;  he  accustoms  him 
to  hardships,  and  (vvliich  is  a  wonderful  ex- 
pression in  a  heathen)  pkkpaui:s  him  for 
nrMS«LF."t  And  in  another  place,  "  Those 
luxurious  persons  whom  he  seems  to  indulge 
and  to  spare,  he  reserves  for  evils  to  come. 
For  you  are  luistaken,  if  you  think  any  one 
excepted.  The  man  who  has  been  long 
,^pared,  will  at  last  have  his  portion  of  misery  ; 
and  tliat  lie  seems  to  have  been  dismissed,  is 
only  delayed  lor  a  time."||  And  a  vast  deal 
more  to  this  purpose.  The  same  sort  of  sen- 
timents we  meet  with  in  Plut^irch  :  "God 
takes  the  same  method,"  says  he,  "with 

*  AoKcis  Tu  derT}v  ci>  ^vi/qra  viKqaai  rrore 
K«i  Tnv  C)iKT]v  TTfiv  ^uKfi  tiTTOtKetfrOai  (ipoTrjiv ; 
'  H     iyyvi  iiTTtv  ov^  opuifiivri  n'  hoa 
'        ^pii  Koya^ttv  T  titScv.     AAA'  oi'f  oida  cv 
•  '  OTrfirar  «0i/to  jto'XoviTa  SitiXear]  kukovs. 

f  Ponii  6'  iinnKOTrei  SUaf 

t  Inter  bonus  viros  ac  Ijf.cm  est  amicitia,  inio  ne- 
cessitiulo,  el  similitmlo,  iinn  ille  eonim  j)atfr,.se(l  ilii- 
rius  ens  ediii-at,  cum  iliujuc  ''Os  vidcris  labnrarc,  su- 
dare  el  ardum  ascendcre,  maios  aulciri  lascivire,  el 
voluptdtibus  fluere,  co'^ita,  filinrum  tin-  inodestia  de- 
leclaie,  vernularum  liceiitia:  illos  discipliua  trisliori 
tontii.cri,  linruiii  ali  audatiani.  Idem  tihi  de  Deo  li- 
queat,  tjoiuim  virum  deliciis  non  innulril,  experitur, 
iudiirat,  et  srn  ii.r.uM  pr;ei'ARAT. 

II  Ko(i  autem  (piiljus  indulgere  videtur,  quibus  par- 
cert-,  molles  Venturis  inalis  servat.  Krratis  enim  si 
fluein  jiidicalis  exceptum.  A  enict  ad  ilium  diu  (cli- 
uem  sua  porlio.  ¥.1  qui  videtur  dimissus  esse,  dela- 
tis  est.    Sek.  de  Cudern.  Mundi. 


good  men,  that  teachers  do  with  theii  schol- 
ars, when  they  exact  more  than  ordinary  o. 
those  children  of  whom  they  have  the  great- 
est hopes."*  And  it  is  a  noble  ihouglit 
which  we  meet  with  in  the  same  author  : 
"  If  he  who  transgresses  in  the  morning," 
says  he,  "  is  punished  in  the  evening,  you 
will  not  say  that,  in  (his  case,  justice  is  slow; 
but  to  God,  one,  or  even  several  ages,  are  but 
as  one  day."t  xiow  near  is  this  to  St.  Peier'i 
saying  on  the  same  subject !  2  Pet.  iii.  8. 

'Sdly,  The  other  point  upon  this  subject, 
which  perplexes  men  fond  of  controversy, 
and  is  perj)lexed  by  ihem,  is,  how  to  recon- 
cile human  liberty  with  Divine  providence, 
which  we  have  taken  notice  of  before.  But 
to  boih  these  dilliculties.  and  to  all  others 
that  may  occur  u])on  the  subject,  I  would  op- 
pose the  saying  of  St.  Augustine  :  "  Let  us 
grant  that  he  can  do  some  things  which  we 
can  not  understand."! 

What  a  melancholy  thing  it  would  be  tc 
live  in  a  world  where  anarchy  reigned  !  It 
would  certainly  be  a  woi'ul  situation  to  all ; 
but  more  especially  to  l!ie  best  and  most  inof- 
fensive part  of  mankind.  It  would  have  been  no 
great  privilege,  to  have  been  horn  into  a  world 
without  God  and  without  providence.  For, 
if  there  were  no  Supreme  Ruler  of  the  world, 
then,  undoubtedly,  the  wickedness  of  men 
would  reign  without  any  curb  or  impediment, 
and  the  great  and  powerful  would  unavoida- 
bly devour  the  weak  and  helpless,  "as  the 
great  fishes  ofien  eat  up  the  small,  and  the 
hawk  makes  havoc  among  the  weaker  birds. "|i 

It  may  be  objected,  tliat  this  frequently 
happens,  even  in  the  present  world,  as  ap- 
pears from  the  prophecies  of  Habakkuk,  ch. 
i.  15.  But  the  prophet,  immediately  afier, 
asserts,  that  there  is  a  Supreme  Power,  which 
holds  the  reins  m  the  midst  of  these  irregu- 
larities ;  and  though  they  are  sometimes  per- 
mitted, yet,  there  is  a  determinate  time  ap- 
pointed for  setting  all  things  to  ri£rhts  again, 
whicii  the  just  man  expects,  and,  till  it  comes, 
lives  hy  failh,  Hab.  ii.  3,  4.  Some  passages 
of  Ariston's  Iambics  are  admirable  to  this 
purpose. 

"A.  Be  patient;  for  God  uses  to  support 
worihy  men,  such  as  vou  are,  in  a  remarka- 
ble manner.  And  unless  those  who  act  in  a 
becoming  manner,  are  to  receive  some  great 
reward,  to  what  purpose  is  it,  pray,  to  culti- 
vate pieiy  any  longer  ?  7?.  I  wish  thai  may 
be  the  case  ;  but  I  too  often  see  those  who 
conform  themselves  to  the  rules  of  piety  and 
virtue,  oppressed  by  calamity  ;  while  those 

*  Hanc  ralionem  Deus  sequitur  in  bonis  viris,  qii?m 
iu  discijjulis  suis  preceptores,  qui  ])lus  laboris  ab  iis 
exigunt,  in  quibus  cerlior  spes  est.    J'lut.  n-t/n  ron 

t  Si  qui  mane  peccavit,  vespere  puniatur,  tardum 
hoc  non  dices  :  at  Deo  scculum,  vel  etiam  plura  secu- 
la,  pro  die  uuo. 

t  Deinus  ilium  aliquod  facere,  et  nos  non  posse  in- 
lelligere- 

II  Pisces  ut  sippe  miniitos 

Magna  comesl,  el  aves  enseal  accipiter. 


PROVIDENCE 


wno  mind  nothing  but  what  they  are  prompt- 
ed to  by  private  interest  and  profit,  thrive 
and  flourish  much  better  than  we.  A.  For 
the  present  it  is  so,  indeed  ;  but  it  becomes 
us  to  look  a  great  way  forward,  and  wait  till 
the  world  has  cotnpleted  its  full  revolution. 
For  it  is  by  no  means  true,  that  this  life  is  en- 
tirely under  the  dominion  of  blind  chance,  or 
fortune  ;  though  many  entertain  this  wicked 
notion,  and  the  corrupt  part  of  mankind,  from 
this  consideration,  encourage  themselves  in 
immorality  ;  but  the  virtues  of  the  good  will 
meet  with  a  proper  reward,  and  the  wick- 
ed will  be  punished  for  their  crimes.  For 
nothiug  happens  without  the  will  of  heav- 
en."* 

What  the  poets  sometimes  advance  con- 
cerning a  supreme  fate,  which  governs  all 
things,  they  often  ascribe  to  God  ;  though  now 
and  then  ilicy  forget  themselves,  and  subject 
even  the  Supreme  Being  to  their  fate,  as  ihe 
stoic  philosophers  did  also.  But  ppssibly 
they  both  had  a  sound  meaning,  though  it  was 
couched  under  words  that  sound  a  little  harsh  ; 
and  this  meaning  now  and  then  breaks  forth, 
particularly  when  they  celebrate  God  for  dis- 
posing all  things,  by  an  eternal  law,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  good  pleasure,  and  thereby 
make  him  the  supreme  and  universal  govern- 
or, subject  to  no  other,  but,  in  some  respect, 
to  himself,  or  to  his  decrees:  which,  if  you 
understand  them  in  a  sound  sense,  is  all  that 
they  can  mean  by  their  to  aoipi,'>TaTOi>  and  their 
TO  diic-alXnTiv.  The  same  judgment  is  to  be 
passed  with  regard  to  what  we  find  said  about 
fortune:  for  either  that  word  signifies  noth- 
ing at  all,  or  vou  must  understand  by  it,  the 
Supreme  Mind,  freely  disposing  of  all  things. 
And  this  is  very  clearly  attested  by  the  fol- 
lowing excellent  verses  of  Menander  :  "Cease 
to  improve  your  minds,  for  the  mind  of  man 
is  nothing  at  all.  The  government  of  all 
tilings  is  solely  in  the  hands  of  fortune : 
whether  this -fortune  be  a  mind,  or  the  fSpirit 
of  (iod,  or  whatever  else  it  is,  it  carries  all 
before  it.  Human  prudence  is  but  a  vapor,  a 
mere  trifle,"  4-c.t 

We  have  also  a  great  many  proof's,  that, 
in  the  opinion  of  the  old  poets,  fate  and  for- 
tune were  prt'ciselv  the  same  :  one  instance 
whereof  we  meet  with  in  the  following  pas- 
sage :  "  Fortune  and  fate,  Pericles,  are  the 
givers  of  all  that  man  enjoys."! 

And,  instead  of  the  terms  fate  and  fortune, 
they  SfJineiimes  used  the  word  necessity. 
But  ail  these  were  but  other  names,  though 

*  A*  daotret,     Bor]9eiv  nuaiv  roiaiv  dftoif 
Eh.iOeii  h  f)cof,  &C. 

vow  c^ovTCij  oiHv  yio  Tt\tov 
Ai/OjS  ~,7rii/of  V'ifii  iirrm,  aW  b  rflj  TvxiS, 
Eir'  i/rri  tovto  TTvtfyfia  Ociov  cire  vovi, 
Tour'  eirr'i  waifra  Kai  KufieoviTw,  Kat  frTDC'po^ 
Kdt  (rw^oy,  ^  TTo6voia  6'  h  Ovrj^rlj  KUJrl/'ij, 

t  Ilaira  ^v^r  "'i  ^oipa,  YlepiK\ee{  ii/Spt  SiSiiJctv. 


ill-chosen,  for  Providence.  Euripides  having 
said  a  great  deal  concerning  fate  or  necessity 
at  last  resolves  the  whole  into  this  :  "  Jupite, 
executes,  with  thee,  all  he  had  decreed  be- 
fore."* 

And  Homer's  words  are  very  remarkable: 
"  Jupiter,"  says  he,  "  increases  or  diminishes 
the  valor  of  men,  as  he  thinks  proper :  for  he 
is  the  most  powerful  of  all. "t  And  in  another 
place  :  "  Jove  from  Olympus,  distributes  hap- 
j  piness  to  good  and  bad  men  in  general,  and 
j  every  one  in  particular,  as  he  himself  thinks 
proper.  "J 

1     Let  us,  therefore,  look  upon  God  as  our 
Father,  and  venture  to  trust  him  with  our  all 
Let  us  ask  and  beg  of  him  what  we  want, 
and  look  for  supplies  from  no  other  quarter. 
This,  the  indulsrenl  father  in  Terence  desired  ; 
and  much  more  our  heavenly  Father.  And 
i  surely  everything  is  better  conducted  by  a 
j  dutiful  love  and  confidence,  than  by  an  'gno- 
ble  and  servile  fear  ;  and  we  are  very  injuri- 
ous both  to  him  and  ourselves,  when  we  think 
not,  that  all  things,  on  his  part,  are  managed 
with  the  greatest  goodness  and  bounty.  It 
is  a  true  test  of  reliaiou  and  obedience,  when, 
with  honorable  thoughts,  and  a  lirm  confi- 
dence in  our  Father,  we  absolutely  depend 
upon  him,  and  serve  him  from  a  princi])le  of 
love.    "  Be  not,"  says  Augustine,  "  a  Iroward 
boy,  in  the  house  of  the  bi'st  of  fathers,  loving 
him  when  he  is  fond  of  thee,  and  hating  him 
!  when  he  gives  thee  chastisement,  as  if,  in 
I  both  cases,  he  did  not  intend  to  provide  aa 
inheritance  for  tliee."<J    If  we  sujipose  thi 
I  Providence  to  be  the  wisest  and  the  best, 
1  is  necessary  that  in  every  instance  our  wills 
!  should  be  perfectly  submissive  to  its  designs; 
otherwise  we  prefer  our  own  pleasure  to 
I  the  will  of  Heaven,  which  appears  very  un- 
I  natural.     Si.  Augustine,  on  the  ex|)ression 
ujiriiiht  in  heart,  which  we  frequently  meet 
with  in  the  psalms,  makes  an  excellent  ob- 
servation: "If  you  cheerfully  embrace,"  says 
he,  "  the  Divine  will  in  some  things,  but  in 
others  would  rather  i)refer  your  own.  you  are 
crooked  in  bean,  and  would  not  have  your 
crooked  inclinations  conformed  to  his  upright 
intentions,  but,  on  the  contrary,  would  bend 
his  upright  will  to  yours. "|| 

*  K'Jl  y'if>  Zcv(Tf  pcvrrrj 
Hdk  /rm  TOVTO  TtXfurj. — EUBIP.  IV  AlCESTIDE. 
t  Ztuj  6'  I'lpcThv  iirSpetxain  d'jtcWct  re  iiivollci  tc 
Ottttoj^  *f£y  iOi\r)Tti/  h  yap  KdpTKTTOi  dir'ii' rn}^, 

HOM.  It,,  zx. 
t  Zsvf  S'  livTds  vtpci  SXffoti  'OXv/iTTiof  avOpiti-aoiniv 

HOM.  Odvss.  !v. 

§Ne  sis  paiir  insulsiis  in  dnmn  optiini  pniris,  .imiins 
pitrein,  si  tilji  bliuulitur,  el  odio  hiihcns,  (piiindo  te 
fl;i!<cll;it ;  quasi  iion  et  blandiens,  et  ilagelians  hicre- 
dilatrin  paret. 

il  Si  vnliinlalcm  divinam  in  qiiibusdain  ami)!nctcris, 
in  aliis  twain  mal]i>s,  ciirviis  I's  corde,  I't  nori  vis  cur- 
vam  main  voliintatcin  ad  illiiis  rectam  diri<jcre,  sed 
illus  rectam  vis  ad  luam  ciirvain  incurvaro. 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


LECTURE  XIV. 


CHI!  1ST  THE  SAVIOR. 


It  It  ackiiowledged,  that  the  publication  of 
the  gospel  is  exceedinir  agreeable,  and  per- 
(eclly  answers  its  orisriiial  name,  which  signi- 
fies li<Jini;s.  IIuw  much  sweeter  is  this 
joyful  news,  than  the  most  ravishing  and  de- 
lighiflil  cciucerts  of"music  I  Nay,  these  are  the 
best  tidings  that  were  ever  heard  in  any  age 
of  the  world.  O  happy  shepherds,  to  whom 
this  news  was  sent  down  from  heaven  !  Ye, 
to  be  sure,  though  watclung  in  the  fields,  ex- 
posed to  the  severe  cold  of  the  night,  were,  in 
this,  more  happy  than  kings  that  slepi  at 
their  ease  in  gilded  beds  :  that  the  wonderful 
nativity  of  the  Supreme  King,  begotten  from 
eternity,  that  nativity  which  brought  salva- 
tion to  the  whole  world,  was  first  communi- 
cated to  you,  and  just  at  the  time  it  happened. 
Behold,  says  the  angel,  I  brnis  you  glad  ti- 
dings of  gTcat  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  peopi e  ; 
for  unto  you.  Is  horn  this  din/  a  Savior.  Luke 
ii.  10,  11.  And  immediately,  a  great  company 
of  the  heavenly  host  joined  ihe  angel,  and  in 
your  hearing  sung.  Glory  to  God  in  the  III ghest. 
And  indeed,  ihen,  in  thestrictest truth,  "A  most 
extraordinary  child  was  sent  down  from  ihe 
lofty  heavens,"  &c.*  Whence  also,  his  name 
was  sent  down  along  with  him  :  His  name 
shall  be  called  Jesus,  for  he  shall  save  his 
■people  from  their  sins.  Matt.  i.  21.  "0  sweet 
name  of  Jesus."  says  St.  Bernard,  "  honey  in 
the  mouth,  melody  in  the  ears,  and  healing 
to  the  heart."  This  is  the  Savior,  who, 
thougli  we  were  so  miserable,  and  so  justly 
miserable,  yet,  would  not  suffer  us  to  perish. 
Nor  did  he  only  put  on  our  nature,  but  also  our 
sins  ;  that  is  in  a  legal  sense,  our  guilt  being 
transferred  to  him.  Whence  we  not  only  read, 
that  the  word  was  made  flesh,  John  i.  14,  but 
also,  that  he  was  made  sin  for  us,  who  kneio 
■no  sin:  2  Cor.  v.  12:  and  even,  as  we  have 
it  in  the  epistle  to  the  Galatians,  ch.  iii.  13, 
that  he  was  made  a  curse,  that  from  him  an 
eternal  blessing  and  felicity  might  be  derived 
to  us.  The  spotless  Lamb  of  God  bore  our 
sins,  that  were  devolved  upon  him:  by  thus 
bearing  them,  he  destroyed  them  :  and  by  dy- 
ing for  them,  gained  a  complete  victory  over 
death.  And  how  wonderful  is  the  gradation 
of  the  blessings  he  procured  for  us  !  He  not 
only  deli vered  us  from  a  prison  and  death,  but 
presents  us  with  a  kingdom :  according  to  that 
of  the  ])salmist,  Who  redeemeth  thee  from 
destruction ;  who  crownelh  thee  with  loving 
kindness  and  tender  mercies.  Psalm  ciii.  4. 

I  believe  there  are  none  so  siupjd  or  insen- 
sible, as  to  refuse  that  these  tidings  are  very 
agreeable  and  pleasing  to  the  ear.  But  we 
may,  not  without  some  reason,  suspect  of  the 
greatest  part  ofnominal  Christians,  who  com- 
monly receive  these  truths  with  great  ap- 
plause, that  it  may  be  said  to  thein,  without 

•  Jam  m  va  progenies  ccclo  deraitticur  alto,  &c. 


any  injustice,  what  is  all  this  to  yo  j?  These 
l)rivileges  are  truly  great  and  manifold,  and 
indill'erenily  directed  to  all  to  whom  they  are 
preached,  unless  they  reject  them,  and  shut 
■  the  door  against  happiness  offering  to  come 
in  :  and  this  in  not  only  the  case  of  a  great 
part  of  mankind,  but  they  also  impose  upon 
themselves  by  false  hopes,  as  if  it  were  enough 
to  hear  of  these  groat  blessings,  and  dream 
themselves  happy,  because  these  sounds  had 
reached  their  ears.  But,  O  unhapj)y  men  ! 
what  will  all  these  immense  riches  signify  to 
you,  I  must  indeed  say,  if  you  are  not  allowed 
to  use  them,  but  rather,  if  you  know  not  how 
to  avail  yourselves  of  them  ?  I  therefore 
earnestly  wish  that  these  words  of  the  gospel 
were  well  fixed  in  your  minds  :  He  was  in  the 
world,  and  the  world  was  made  by  him.,  and 
I  the  world  knew  him  not.  He  came  unto  his 
I  own,  and  Ins  own  received  him  not  ;  but  as 
;  many  as  received  him,  to  them  gave  he  power 
to  beco.me  the  sons  of  God.  John  i.  10-12.  In 
him  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowl- 
edge are  hid.  Col.  ii.  3  ;  and  without  him, 
there  is  nothing  but  emptiness,  because  in 
him  all  fxdness  doth  dwell.  But  what  advan- 
tage can  it  be  to  us  to  hear  these  riches  of  our 
Jesus  spoken  of  at  great  length,  and  to  excel- 
lent purpose,  or  even  to  speak  of  them  our- 
selves, if,  all  the  while,  we  talk  of  them  as  a 
good  foreign  to  us,  and  in  which  we  have  no 
concern,  because  our  hearts  are  not  yet  open 
to  receive  him?  What,  pray,  would  the 
most  accurate  description  of  the  Fortunate 
islands,  as  they  called,  or  all  the  wealth  of 
the  Indies  and  the  New  World,  with  all  its 
golden  mines,  signify  to  a  ])oor  man  half  na- 
ked, struggling  with'all  the  rigors  of  cold  and 
hunger?  Should  one,  in  these  circumstances, 
I  say,  hear  or  read  of  these  immense  treasures, 
or  should  any  one  describe  them  to  him  in 
the  most  strifdng  manner,  either  by  word  of 
mouth,  or  with  the  advantage  of  an  accurate 
pen  ;  can  it  be  doubled,  but  this  empty  display 
of  riches,  this  phantom  of  wealth  and  affluence, 
would  make  his  sense  of  want  and  misery  the 
more  intolerable  ?  Unless  it  be  supposed, 
that  despair  had  already  reduced  him  to  a 
state  of  insensibility.  What  further  enhances 
the  misery  of  those  who  hearof*ihis  treasure, 
and  think  of  it  to  no  purpose,  is  this,  that  there 
is  no  one  of  them,  who  is  not  miserable  by- 
choice,  and  a  beggar  in  the  midst  of  the  great- 
est wealth  :  and  not  only  miserable  by  choice, 
but  obstinately  so,  from  an  invincible  and  dis- 
tracted fondness  for  the  immediate  caOses  ot 
his  misery.  "  For  who  but  a  downright  mad- 
man would  reject  such  golden  ofl'ers  ?"* 

To  give  a  brief  and  plain  stale  of  the  case 
to  those  who  sincerely  and  with  all  their 
hearts  receive  him,  Christ  is  all  things;  to 
those  who  receive  him  not,  nothing.  For, 
how  can  any  good,  however  suitable  or  ex- 
tensive, be  actually  enjoyed,  or  indeed  siny 
such  enjoyment  conceived,  without  some  kind 
*  Quis  enim  nisi  mentis  inops  oblutum  noc  lospuat 
i  auruin  ? 


REGENERATION. 


681 


of  union,  between  that  good  and  the  person 
suj  posed  10  stand  in  need  of  it  ?  Behold  says, 
the  psalmist,  all  those  that  are  far  from  thee 
shall  perish.  Psalm  Ixxiii.  27.  To  be  united 
to  God,  is  the  great  and  the  only  good  of  man- 
kind. And  the  only  means  of  this  union,  is 
Jesus.  In  whatever  sen^e  you  take  it,  he  ought 
inily  to  be  called  the  union  of  unions  ;  who, 
that  he  might  with  the  greater  consistency, 
and  the  more  closely,  unite  our  souls  to  God, 
did  not  disdain  to  unite  himself  to  s  human 
body. 

The  great  business  of  our  life,  therefore, 
young  gentlemen,  is  this  acceptance  of  Christ, 
and  this  inseparable  union  with  him,  which 
we  are  now  recommending.  Thrice  happy, 
and  more  than  thrice  happy,  are  they  who 
are  joined  with  him  in  this  undivided  union, 
which  no  complaints,  nor  even  the  day  of 
death,  can  dissolve.  Nay,  the  last  day  is  hap- 
py above  all  other  days,  for  this  very  reason, 
that  ii  fully  and  finally  completes  this  union, 
and  is  so  farl'rom  dissolving  it,  that  it  renders 
it  absolutely  perfect  and  everlasting. 

But,  that  it  may  be  coeval  with  eternity, 
and  last  for  ever,  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
that  this  union  should  have  its  beginning  in 
this  short  and  fleeting  life.  And  pray,  what 
hinders  those  of  us  that  have  not  entered  into 
this  union  before,  to  enter  into  it  without  de- 
lay ?  seeing  the  bountiful  Jesus  not  only  re- 
jects none  that  come  unto  him,  but  also  offers 
himself  to  all  that  do  not  wilfully  reject  him, 
and  standing  at  the  door,  earnestly  beg  to  be 
admitted.  Uh,  why  do  not  these  everlasting 
doors  open,  that  the  Kiiia  of  glory  may  enter, 
and  reign  within  us?  Nay,  though  he  were 
to  be  s{)ught  in  a  far  country,  and  with  great 
labor,  why  should  we  delay,  and  what  unliap- 
py  chains  detain  us  ?  Why  do  we  not,  after 
shaking  them  all  off,  and  even  ourselves,  go 
as  it  were  out  of  ourselves,  and  seek  him  in- 
cessantly till  we  find  him  ?  Then,  rejoicing 
over  him,  say  with  the  heavenly  Spouse,  / 
held  hun,  and  would  not  lei  him  go  ;  and  fur- 
ther add,  with  the  same  Spouse,  that  blessed 
expression.  My  beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am  his. 
And,  indeed,  this  interest  is  always  recipro- 
cal. No  man  truly  receives  Jesus,  who  does 
not  at  the  same  time  deliver  up  himself  whol- 
ly to  him.  Among  all  the  advantages  we 
pursue,  there  is  nothing  comparable  to  this 
exchange.  Our  gain  is  immense  from  both  ; 
not  only  from  the  accepiance  of  him,  but  also 
from  surrendering  ourselves  to  him.  So  long 
as  this  is  delayed,  we  are  the  most  al)ject 
8lav(!s.  When  one  has  delivered  himself  up 
to  Christ,  then,  and  then  only,  he  is  truly 
free,  and  becomes  master  of  himself.  Why 
should  we  wander  about  to  no  purpose  ?  To 
him  let  us  turn  our  eyes,  on  him  fix  our 
thoughts,  that  he  who  is  ours  by  the  donation 
of  the  Father,  and  his  own  free  gift,  may  be 
ours  by  a  cheerful  and  joyous  acceptance.  As 
St.  }3ernard  says  in  those  words  of  the  proph- 
et, 7'«  us  a  child  is  horn,  to  us  a  son  is  given  : 

Let  us  therefore  make  use  of  vhat  is  ours, 
80 


for  our  own  advantage."'*  So,  then,  let  him 
be  ours  by  possession  and  use,i  and  let  us  be 
his  for  ever,  never  forgetting  how  dearly  ha 
has  bought  us. 


LECTURE  XV. 

REGENERATION. 

The  Platonists  divide  the  world  into  two, 
the  sensible  and  the  intellectual  world  :  they 
imagine  the  one  to  be  the  type  of  the  other, 
and  that  sensible  and  spiritual  things  are 
stamped,  as  it  were,  with  the  same  stamp  or 
seal.  These  sentiments  are  not  unlike  the 
notions  which  the  masters  of  the  cabalistical 
docirine  among  the  Jews,  held  concerning 
God's  sephiroth  and  seal,  wherewith,  accord- 
ing to  them,  all  the  worlds,  and  everything  in 
them,  are  stamped  or  sealed.  And  these  are 
probably  near  akin  to  what  Lord  Bacon  of 
Verulam  calls,  his  parallela  signacula,  and 
symholizantes  schematismi.  According  to  this 
hypothesis,  these  parables  and  metaphors, 
which  are  often  taken  from  natural  things  to 
illustrate  such  as  are  Divine,  will  not  be  si» 
militudes  taken  entirely  at  pleasure,  but  are 
often,  in  a  great  measure,  founded  in  nature 
and  the  things  themselves.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
that  great  change  which  happens  in  the  souls 
of  men  by  a  real  and  effectual  conversion  to 
God,  is  illustrated  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  by 
several  remarkable  changes,  both  natural  and 
civil,  particularly  by  a  deliverance  f  rom  chains, 
prison,  and  slavery  ;  by  a  transition  from  one 
kingdom  to  another ;  and  from  darkness  to 
light;  by  a  restoration  from  death  to  life; 
by  a  new  creation  ;  by  a  marriage  ;  and  by 
adoption,  and  re  generations^  Concerning  this 
great  change,  as  it  is  represented  under  the 
last  of  these  flgures,  we  propose,  with  Divine 
assistance,  to  offer  a  few  thoughts  from  those 
words  of  St.  John's  gospel  which  we  have 
already  mentioned  :  To  as  many  as  received 
hirn,  to  them  gave  he  power  (or  the  privilege) 
to  become  the  sons  of  God.  John  i.  12.  To- 
gether with  these  words  of  our  Savior,  in  an- 
other place  of  the  same  gospel :  Except  a 
man  be  born  again,  of  water  and  of  the  Spir- 
it, he  can  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God. 
John  iii.  3. 

If,  indeed,  we  consider  the  nature  and  the 
original  of  man,  it  is  not  without  reason  that 
he  is  called  the  son  of  God,  according  to  that 
passage  which  the  a|)ostle,  in  his  short,  but 
most  weighty  sermon  to  the  Athenians,  quotes 
from  the  poet  Aratus,  and  at  the  same  time 
approves  of.  For  we  are  all  his  oJTspring.% 
Acts  xvii.  28.  Our  first  parent,  in  St.  Luke's 
gospel,  is  also  ex|)resslt'  called  the  son  of 
God  ;  Luke  iii.  ult.,  not  only  because  he  was 

•  Purr  iialiis  ost  nobis,  filiiis  nf)l)is  datus  est;  utA- 
mur,  inc|iiit,  iiostro  nl ilitalciti  iiostrrim. 
t  VLrriaei  xai  ^prjaei. 
I  Tjv  yap  Kal  ytvoj  iu^itv. 


«82 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


rieated  nnmediaiely  by  God,  without  any 
eanlily  I'ailu-r,  hut  also  on  accouiu  of  the  Di- 
vine iniaije  that  was  originally  impressed 
u])on  the  liuiiian  nature. 

And  this  glorious  liilc,  which  distinguishes 
hiui  from  ail  other  corporeal  beings,  he  has 
in  coiniuon  with  the  angels,  who  are  also  so 
called  in  several  places  in  the  book  of  Joh. 
Job  i.  6  ;  xx.wiii.  7.  It  is  indeed  true,  to  use 
the  words  of  St.  Basil,  that  "  every  piece  of 
workmanship  bears  some  mark  or  cliaracter 
of  the  workman  who  made  it."*  For  I  should 
railier  choose,  in  this  case,  to  use  the  word 
mark,  or  character,  than  likeness.  Bui  of 
man  alone  it  is  said.  Lei  us  make  him  after 
our  own  iniase.  And  this  distinction  is  not 
improperly  expressed  by  the  schoolmei^,  who 
say.  as  we  have  already  observed,  that  all  the 
oilier  works  of  God  are  stamped  with  the 
print  of  his  foot,  but  only  man,  of  all  the  vis- 
ible creation,  honored  with  the  image  or  like- 
ness of  his  face.  And  indeed,  on  account  of 
this  image  or  resemblance  it  is  that  he  is  in 
dignity  very  nearly  equal  to  the  angels,  though 
made  inferior  to  theiTi.  Here  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served that  this  inferiority  is  but  little.  Who 
was  made,  saith  the  apostle,  a  Utile  lower 
than  the  an:reh.  Heb.  ii.  9.  So  that,  with  re- 
gard to  his  body,  he  is  nearly  related  to  the 
brute  creatures,  and  only  a  little  superior  to 
them  with  regard  to  temperament  and  the 
beautiful  elegance  of  his  frame,  but  made  out 
of  the  very  same  materials,  the  same  moist 
and  soft  clay,  taken  from  the  bosom  of  their 
great  and  common  mother;  whereas,  to  use 
the  words  of  the  poet,  "  The  soul  is  the  breath 
of  God,  wliich  takes  its  rise  from  heaven,  and 
is  closely  united  to  his  earthly  body,  like  a 
light  shut  up  in  a  dark  cavern. "t 

That  Divine  part  of  the  human  composition 
derives  its  original  froin  the  Father  of  Spirits, 
in  the  same  manner  with  those  ministers  of 
fire,  who  are  not  confined  to  corporeal  ve- 
hicles;  concerning  whom,  the  oracle,  having 
acknowledged  one  .Supreme  Divine  Majesty, 
immediately  subjoins,  "And  we  angels  are 
but  a  small  part  of  God. "J 

And  with  regard  to  this  principle  which  ex- 
cels in  man,  which  actually  constitutes  the 
man,  and  on  account  of  which  he  most  truly 
deserves  that  name,  he  is  a  noble  and  divine 
animal.  And  whatever  some  fanciful  and 
proud  men  may  boast  concerning  their  fami- 
lies, "If  we  consider  our  originals,  and  that 
God  was  the  author  of  the  human  kind,  none 
of  Adam's  race  can  be  called  ignoble. "ll  | 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  regard  our 
woful  fall,  which  was  the  consequence  of  sin, 
we  are  all  degenerate  ;  we  have  all  fallen  j 

*  T\av  TO  ipya^6utvov  t^tiv  Ttva  rov  riKTOvos  rviroy.  I 
f  '^vi^ri  6'  tirrtv  at\fLa  Qtov  koX  /ii^iv  lii/trXi) 

SfLZ.  DE  AnIMA. 
J  Mi>ff)»i  6c  Gcuv  tteoU  ayyeXoi  ftf^cis, 
p  Si  primordia  nostra,  , 
Anthoreinque  Deum  spoctes,  j 
Nulliis  df^;ener  estat. — Boeth.  de  Coss.  Phil., 
hb.  iii.,  inct.  6.  I 


from  the  highest  honor  into  the  greatest  dis- 
grace, and  tJie  deepest  gull  of  all  sorts  of  mis- 
ery ;  we  have  given  away  our  liberty  and 
greatest  dignity,  in  exchange  for  the  most 
shameful  and  most  deplorable  bondage  ;  in- 
stead of  the  sons  of  GoJ,  we  are  become  the 
slaves  of  Satan  :  and  if  we  now  want  to  know 
to  what  family  we  belong,  the  apostle  will 
tell  us  that  we  are  children  of  wrath,  and  sorjt 
of  disobedience.*  Eph.  ii.  2,  3. 

But,  as  the  overflowing  Fountain  of  good- 
ness and  bounty  did  not  choose  that  so  noble 
a  monument  of  his  wisdom  should  be  entire- 
ly ruined  by  this  dismal  fall,  could  any  one 
be  more  proper  to  raise  it  up  again,  or  better 
qualified  to  restore  men  to  the  dignity  of  the 
sons  of  God,  than  his  own  eternal  Son,  who 
is  the  most  perfect  and  express  image  of  the 
Father  ?  Nor  does  this  gloridus  person  de- 
cline the  severe  service.  Though  he  was  the 
son  of  his  Father's  love,  the  heir  and  Lord  of 
the  whole  universe  :  thouirh  he  misrht  he 
called  the  delight  Ci'his  most  exalted  Father, 
and  of  all  blessed  spirits,  and  now,  with  the 
greatest  justice,  the  darling  of  the  human 
kind  :  yet  he  left  his  Father's  bosom,  and,  0 
wonderful  condescension  !  became  the  son  of 
man,  that  men  might  anew  become  the  sons 
of  God.  Whence  he  is  also  called  The  second 
Adam,  because  he  recovered  all  that  was  lost 
by  the  first. 

That  all  who  sincerely  receive  him,  might 
be  again  admitted  into  the  embraces  of  the 
Father,  and  no  more  be  called  children  of 
wrath,  he  himself  submitted  to  the  punish- 
ment due  to  our  disobedience  ;  and  by  bearing 
it,  removed  our  guilt,  and  pacified  justice. 
He  also  went  into  the  flames  of  Divine  wrath, 
to  deliver  us  from  them  ;  and  by  a  plentiful 
stream  of  his  most  precious  blood,  quite  ex- 
tinguished them.  He  likewise  took  efiectual 
care  that  those  who  were  no  longer  to  be 
called  children  of  ivrath,  should  also  cease  to 
be  children  of  disohedietice,  by  pouring  out 
upon  them  a  plentiful  effusion  of  his  sancti- 
fying Spirit;  thai  their  hearts  being  thereby 
purged  from  all  impure  aff"eciions  and  the 
love  of  earthly  things,  they  might,  under  the 
influence  of  the  same  good  Spirit,  cheerfully 
.ead  a  life  of  sincere  and  universal  obedience. 
Now,  it  can  not  be  doubted  that  those  who 
are  so  actuated  and  conducted  by  the  Di- 
vine Spirit,  are  truly  the  sons  of  God  ;  whence 
that  spirit  whereby  they  call  God  their  Fa- 
ther, and  with  confidence  apply  to  him  as 
such,  is  called  the  Spirit  of  adoption. 

Moreover,  this  wonderful  restoration  is  of., 
ten  called  adoption,  not  only  to  distinguish  it 
from  the  natural  and  incomparable  dignity 
which  belongs  to  the  only  begotten  Son,  but 
also  because  we  by  no  means  derive  this  priv- 
ilege from  nature,  but  absolutely  from  the 
free  donation  of  the  Father,  through  the  me- 
diation of  his  only  Son.  We  must  not,  how- 
ever, conclude  from  this,  that  this  privilege 


*  'Yioi  arrciBcias  toi  rexva  opyns. 


f 


REGENERATION. 


683 


has  nothing  more  in  it  than  an  honorable  title, 
or,  as  they  call  it,  an  external  relation.  For 
it  is  not  only  inseparably  connected  with  a 
real  and  internal  change,  but  with  a  remark- 
able renoi^atinn,  and,  as  it  were,  ?i  transform- 
aiiiao?  -aW  the  faculties  of  the  soul,  nay,  even 
of  the  whole  man.  You  will  accordingly  find  ' 
these  words  applied  to  this  purpose,  by  the 
Apostle  Paul,  in  his  epistle  to  the  Romans, 
cli.  xii.  2.  And,  to  conclude,  it  is  with  a  view 
to  convince  us,  thai,  together  with  the  title 
of  sons,  the  Spirit  of  God  is  given  to  believ- 
ers, and  they  are  inwardly  renewed  thereby, 
that  we  so  often  in  Scripture  meet  with  this 
regenernlioawhioh  is  the  subject  of  our  pres- 
ent discourse. 

If  we  consider  the  lives  of  men,  we  shall 
be  apt  to  irnngine  thai  the  generaiiiv  of  man- 
kind who  live  in  the  world  under  the  name 
of  Christians,  think  it  sulficient  for  them  to 
be  called  by  this  name,  and  dream  of  nothing 
further.  The  common  sort  of  mankind  hear 
with  pleasure  and  delight  of  remission  of 
sins,  imputed  righteousness,  of  the  dignity  of 
the  sons  ol'  (Jod,  and  the  eternal  inheritance 
annexed  to  that  dignity  ;  'but  when  they  are 
told  that  repentance,  a  new  heart,  and  a  new 
life,  contempt  of  the  world  and  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  flesh,  fasting  and  prayer,  are  ab- 
solutely necessary  for  a  Christian,  Thrse  are 
hard  sa  i/imrs,  who  can  hear  Ikein  ?  Though 
at  the  same  time  it  must  be  said,  that  they 
who  do  not  regard  these  necessary  duties, 
will  have  no  share  in  the  reward  annexed  to 
them. 

There  are  many  things  which  distinguish 
this  Divine  adoption  from  that  which  obtains 
among  men.  1st,  The  former  is  not  an  ex- 
pedient to  supply  the  want  of  children,  which 
is  c(jrnmonly  ttie  case  amonn;  men  ;  for  (rod 
has  his  only  begotten  8on,  who  is  incoin|)ara- 
bly  preferable  to  all  the  rest  taken  together  : 
who  is  immortal  as  his  Father  ;  and  though, 
from  a  principle  of  wonderful  humiliiy,  he 
condescended  to  become  mortal,  and  even  to 
die,  yet  he  rose  again  from  the  dead,  and  liv- 
eth  for  ever.  From  him  is  derived  all  that 
felicity  which  our  heavenly  Father  is  pleased 
to  confer  U[)(m  us,  out  of  his  mere  gra(U'  and 
bounly,  through  ihemeritsand  mediation  of  his 
dear  Son.  And  is  there  any  one  on  whom  this 
feliciiy  is  bestowed,  who  will  not  freely  ac- 
knowledgi!  himself  to  be  qui;e  unworthy  of 
so  great  an  honor  ?  Yet,  such  honor  has  the 
eternal  ami  incomprehensible  love  of  God  con- 
de.scend('(l  to  bestow  on  us,  who  are  (juile  un- 
worthy and  undeserving.  And  in  this  also 
the  Divine  adoption  differs  from  that  which 
8  customary  among  men,  who  generally 
choose  the  most  deserving  they  can  meet 
with  :  but  all  tlujse  whom  God  makelh  choice 
of,  are  unworthy,  and  some  even  are  remark- 
ably so. 

2dly,  Men  generally  adopt  but  one  apiece, 
or,  at  most,  a  few  ;  but  Divine  adoption  ad- 
mits into  the  hf-avenly  family  a  most  numer- 
ous host,  e.  tending  even  unto  myriads,  that 


Jesus,  who  is  at  the  head  of  the  family,  7nay 
be  the  first-born  among  many  brethren.  Ro- 
mans viii.  29. 

And  3dly,  They  are  all  heirs.  Whence  i 
is  said,  in  another  place.  That  he  might  bring 
mam/  sons  unto  g/ori/.  Heb.  ii.  10.  Nor  is  the* 
inheritance  of  any  individual  in  the  least  di- 
minished in  consequence  of  so  vast  a  multi- 
tude of  heirs  ;  lor  it  is  an  inheritance  in  light, 
and  every  one  has  the. whole  of  it.  Nor  do 
the  children  come  into  the  possession  of  this 
inheritance  by  the  death  of  the  Father,  but 
every  one  when  he  dies  himself;  for  the  Fa- 
ther is  immortal,  and,  according  to  the  apos- 
tle, the  Only  one  that  has  immortality ;  that 
is,  in  an  absolute,  primary,  and  independent 
sense.  Nay,  he  himself  is  the  eternal  inher- 
itance  of  his  sons,  and  death  alone  brings 
them  into  his  presence,  and  admits  them  into 
the  full  enjoyment  of  him. 

4thly  (which  I  would  have  particularly  ob- 
served). This  Divine  adojjtion  is  not  a  matter 
of  mere  external  honor,  nor  simply  the  be- 
stowing of  riches  and  an  inheritance  :  but  is 
always  attended  with  a  real  internal  change 
of  the  man  himself  to  a  beins:  quite  different 
from  what  he  was  before  (which  is  also  re- 
corded in  sacred  Scripture,  concerning  Saul, 
when  he  was  anointed  king) ;  but  this,  hu- 
man adoption  can  by  no  means  perform. 
This  last,  in  the  choice  of  a  pr(j])er  object, 
justly  pays  regard  to  merit.  For  though  the 
richest  and  even  the  best  of  men,  may  clothe 
richly  the  person  whom  he  has  ihought  prop- 
er to  adopt,  and  get  him  instructed  in  the 
best  princi[)les  and  rules  of  conduct,  yet,  he 
can  not  effectually  divest  him  of  his  innate 
dispositions,  or  those  manners  that  have  be- 
co!ne  natural  by  custom  ;  he  can  not  form  his 
mind  to  nobl(!  actions,  nor  ])lant  within  him 
the  principles  ol'  fortitude  and  virtue.  But 
He  who  formed  the  heart  of  man,  can  reform 
It  at  his  |)leasure  ;  and  this  he  actually  does: 
whenever  he  admits  a  person  into  his  royal 
family,  he,  at  the  same  time,  endows  hinx 
with  royal  and  divine  dispositions.  And 
therefore,  if  he  honors  any  person  with  his 
love,  that  person  thereby  bec(nnes  deserving  ; 
because,  if  he  was  not  so  before,  he  make? 
him  so  :  he  siam|)s  his  own  image  upon  him 
in  true  and  lively  colors  ;  and,  as  he  is  holy 
himself,  he  makes  him  h(jly  likewise.  Hence, 
it  is,  that  this  heavenly  adoption  is  no  less 
pro[)erly,  truly,  or  frequently,  in  the  sacred 
Scri[)tures,  called  regeneration.  \l\a\iyyciii:nia.\ 
And  though  a  .Jew,  and  a  celebrated  doctoi 
of  the  Jewish  law,  excepted  against  this  doc- 
trine, when  it  was  proposed  to  him  under 
this  name  ;  yet,  fitrtlu  r  all  of  that  nation,  nor 
even  the  Gentile  philof»opliers,  were  quite  un- 
acquainted with  it.  Rabbi  Israel  calls  prose- 
lytes, new-born  Jews.  And  those  passages 
which  we  frequently  meet  with,  concerning 
the  seed  of  Abraham,  and,  in  the  prophets 
concerning  the  numerous  converts  that  were 
to  be  made  to  the  church,  are,  by  their  Rab- 
bins, and  the  Chaldee  paraphrase,  applied 


684 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTUEES. 


to  this  spititvial  ccnerntion,  ■wliich  they  be- 
lieved WDuid  leniarkably  take  place  in  the 
days  of  the  Me^siiali  :  particularly  those  two 
passasres  in  the  Psalms,  in  one  whereof  the 
spiritual  sons  of  the  church  are  compared  to 
»the  drops  of  the  inoriilng  dbu\  Psalm  xlv.  16: 
ex.  I? :  not  only  on  account  of  its  celestial  pu- 
rity, hut  also  with  resjard  to  the  vast  multi- 
tude of  them.  Some  of  these  doctors  also  ob- 
serve, that  the  number  of  proselytes  would  be 
so  great  in  the  days  of  the  Messiah,  that  the 
church,  omitting  the  ceremony  of  circumcis- 
ion, would  receive  them  into  its  bosom,  and 
initiate  them  by  ablution  or  baptism.  Con- 
cerning this  renovation  of  the  mind,  Philo  Ju- 
daeus  says  expressly,  "  God,  who  is  unbegot- 
ten  himself,  and  begets  all  things,  sows  this 
seed,  as  it  were,  with  his  own  hand,"  &c.* 
Hieroclcs,  and  other  Pythagorean  ])hiloso- 
phers,  treat  also  of  this  moral  or  mvstical  re- 
generation ;  and  under  this  very  name,  Plu- 
tarch also  makes  mention  of  it,  and  defines  it 
to  be  "  the  mortification  of  irrational  and  ir- 
regular appetites."  And  Seneca's  words  rela- 
tive to  this  subject  are  :  "  The  families  of  the 
arts  and  sciences  are  the  most  noble  ;  choose 
into  which  of  them  you  will  be  adopted,  for 
by  this  means  we  may  be  born  according  to 
our  own  choice  ;  nor  will  you  be  adopted  into 
the  name  only,  but  also  into  the  goods  of  the 
family."! 

Is  not,  also,  the  common  custom  that  pre- 
vailed among  the  ancients,  of  honoring  their 
heroes,  and  those  men  who  were  remarkable 
for  exalted  virtue,  with  the  title  of  sons  of 
God,  a  plain  allusion  to  this  adoption  we  have 
under  our  consideration  ?  And  what  we  have 
observed  on  the  philosophers,  who  acknowl- 
edged this  moral  or  metaphorical  regenera- 
tion, is  so  very  true,  that  it  gave  a  handle  to 
the  fictions  of  those  ancient  heretics  who 
evaded  the  whole  doctrine  and  fiiith  of  the 
last  resurrection,  by  putting  this  figurative 
sense  upon  it.  As  to  what  the  Roman  phi- 
losopher observes,  that  we  may  be  born  in 
this  manner  at  our  own  pleasure  or  discre- 
tion, though  to  be  sure  it  is  not  without  our 
consent,  yet,  it  does  not  altogether,  nor  prin- 
cipally depend  upon  us.  Our  sacred  and 
apostolic  docirine  presents  us  with  much 
more  just  and  pure  notions  on  this  subject 
when  it  teaches  us,  that.  Of  his  own  will  he 
bf.'^al  us  hy  the  word  of  truth.  James  i.  18. 
This  is  also  re[)resented  in  express  terms  in 
those  words  of  the  gospe'l  which  immediately 
follow  the  passage  we  mentioned  at  the  be- 
ginning of  this  discourse.  Which  were  horn 
not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor 
of  the  will  of  man,  hut  of  God.  John  i.  13. 
And,  with  great  propriety,  there  is  immedi- 
ately added,  another  generation  still  more 

*  * AytvtrrjT'ii  h  Bco  ,  Kair  a  ov^iravrd  ^Ivvwv,  tnreioei 
ucy  Tovro  to  ycvvrjiia  to  tStov,  &C. 

t  NobilissimrE  sunt  ingenionim  familine,  elige  in 
quam  adsclci,  vlis,  hac  eniin  ratinne,  nobis-ad  arbit- 
rium  nostrum  nusci  licet  ;  nec  in  noinen  tantum  adop- 
Vibpris,  se('  et  in  ipsa  bona. 


wonderful  and  mysterious,  wh  jch  is  the  prm 
cipal  and  source  of  this  renovation  of  ours: 
'J'hc  word  was  made  flesh.  For,  to  this  end, 
God  was  pleased  to  clothe  himsell' with  our 
flesh,  that  he  might  put  his  Spirit  within  us, 
whereby  we,  though  carnal  in  consequence 
of  the  corruption  of  our  nature,  might  be 
born  again  into  a  new,  spiritual,  and  Divine 
life.  The  Holy  Ghost,  by  overshadowing  the 
blessed  Virgin,  was,  in  a  very  particular  man- 
ner, the  author  of  the  human  nature  of  the 
Son  of  God  ;  and  to  the  virtue  and  Divine 
power  of  the  same  Spirit,  all  the  adopted 
children  of  the  Deity  owe  their  new  birth. 
And  as  creation  goes  sometimes  under  the 
name  of  generation  (for  instance,  in  the  words 
of  Moses,  Deut.  xxxii.  18),  Of  the  Rock  that 
hegot  thee  thou  art  unmindful,  and  hast  for- 
gotten  the  God  that  formed  thee:  that  book 
also  of  the  Bible,  which,  from  the  first  word 
of  it,  is  called  Bereshi/h,  is  by  the  Greeks 
named  Genesis,  and  in  the  oldest  copy  of  the 
Sepiuagint,  77(e  gfncration  of  the  world; 
and,  in  the  beginning  of  it,  Moses,  speaking 
of  the  creation  of  the  world,  says.  These  are 
the  generations  of  the  heaven  and  the  earth. 
(Gen.  ii.  4.)  So  on  the  other  hand,  this  spir- 
itual generation  is  called  creation,  and  will, 
an  additional  epithet,  the  new  creation.  It 
has  also,  for  its  author,  the  same  powerful 
Spirit  of  God,  who  of  old  sat  upon  the  face 
of  the  waters  as  a  bird  upon  its  young,  or  as 
i  St.  Basil  renders  it,  hatched :  so,  also,  in  con- 
version the  same  Spirit  rests  upon  our  unin- 
formed minds,  that  are  lifeless,  unprepared, 
and  nothing  at  all  but  emptiness  and  obscu- 
rity, and  out  of  this  darkness  brings  I'orth 
light,  which  was  the  first  and  most  beautiful 
ornament  of  the  universe.  To  which  the 
aposile  also  alludes  in  his  second  epistle  to 
the  Corinthians,  ch.  iv.  6.  The  resurrection 
of  the  dead,  is  also  the  peculiar  work  of  this 
living  Spirit  of  God  ;  and  to  him  the  apostle 
Peter  expressly  ascribes  the  resurrection  of 
Christ:  For  Christ  also,  says  he,  hath  once 
suffered  for  sins,  the  just  for  the  unjust,  that 
he  might  bring  us  to  God,  being  put  to  death 
171  the  flesh,  hut  quickened  hy  the  Spirit.  1  Pe- 
ter iii.  18.  And  here,  again,  there  is  a  mutual 
exchange  of  names  ;  for,  in  the  gospel  ac- 
cording to  Matthew,  the  resurrection  ol'  the 
dead  is  called  the  regeneration :  Verily,  1 
say  unto  you,  says  our  Lord,  that  ye  ivhich 
have  foUoioed  me  in  the  regeneration,  when 
the  Son  of  man  shall  sit  in  the  throne  of  his 
glnry,  ye  shall  also  sit  upon  twelve  thrones. 
Matt.  xix.  28.  Here,  In  the  generation,  must 
be  connected  with  the  following  words,  and 
by  no  means  with  those  that  go  before.  And 
that  this  was  the  common  method  of  speak- 
ing among  the  Jews,  appears  from  Josephus: 
"To  those,"  says  he,  "whose  fate  it  is  to 
die  for  observing  the  law,  God  has  given  the 
privileges  of  being  born  again,  and  enjoying 
a  more  happy  life,  so  that  they  are  gainers 
by  the  exchange."*    In  like  manner  Philo 

*  Toij  irrep  v6^<i>v  6iaipv'\i)(QtvTm  drroOanoicri  UuiKCD 


REGENERATION. 


685 


Faith,  "  We  shall  hasten  to  the  seneration  af- 
ter Ceath,  &c."*  On  the  oiher  hand,  it  is 
very  well  known,  that  this  spiritual  regenera- 
tion we  are  speaking-  of,  is  often  in  Scripture 
called  I  he  resurrection. 

Of  ihis  resurrection,  the  word  of  the  gospel 
is,  as  it  were,  the  trumpet :  and,  at  ihe  same 
time,  the  immortal  seed  of  this  new  birih, 
and  therefore,  of  immortality  iiself.  Thus  it 
IS  represented  by  the  aposile  Peier,  1  Pet.  i. 
23,  and  by  the  apostle  James,  who  expressly 
tells  us,  that  He  hath  begotten  us  loith  the 
word  of  truth.  James  i.  18.  Now,  the  enli- 
venino-  virtue  and  plastic  power  of  this  word 
is  derived  from  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  le  the 
true  spring  and  fountain  of  this  new  life.  Nor 
are  the  most  extended  powers  of  the  human 
mind,  or  the  strength  of  its  understanding, 
any  more  able  to  restore  this  life  within  it, 
even  upon  hearing  the  glad  tidings  of  the 
gospel,  than  it  was  capable  of  producing  ii- 
self at  first,  or  of  being  the  author  of  its  own 
being,  or,  after  death,  of  restoring  itself  to 
life. 

To  this  exalted  dignity  are  admitted  the 
humble,  the  poor,  the  obscure,  the  ignorant, 
barbarians,  slaves,  sinners,  whom  the  world 
look  upon  as  nothing,  and  hold  in  the  great- 
est contempt:  of  these  nothing  is  required 
but  true  and  sincere  faith  :  no  learning,  nor 
noble  extract,  nor  any  submission  to  the 
Mosaic  law  ;  hut  upon  every  man  of  what- 
ever rank  or  condition,  who  believes  this 
word,  he  in  return  bestows  this  dignity,  that 
theif  should  become  the  sons  of  God  ;  that  is, 
that  what  Christ  was  by  nature,  they  should 
oecome  by  srace.  Now,  what  is  more  sub- 
lime and  exalted  than  this  honor,  that  those 
who  were  formerly  children  of  Satan,  and 
heirs  of  hell,  should  by  faith  alone  be  made 
the  sons  o  f  God,  brethren  of  Christ,  and  joint 
heirs  of  the  heavenly  kingdom  ?  If  the  sa- 
cred tire  of  the  Romans  happened  at  any  time 
to  be  extinguished,  it  could  only  be  lishted 
again  at  the  rays  of  the  sun.  The  life  of 
souls  to  he  sure,  is  a  sacred  flame  of  Divine 
love  :  this  flame,  as  we  are  now  born  into  the 
froward  race  of  fallen  mankind,  is,  alas!  but 
too  truly  and  unhajjpily  extinguished,  and  by 
no  means  to  be  kindled  again,  but  by  the  en- 
livening light  and  heat  of  the  ffun  of  ris^h- 
teousness,  who  is  most  auspiciously  risen 
upon  us. 


LECTURE  XVI. 

REGENERATION. 

The  great  corruption  of  mankind,  and  their 
innate  disposition  to  every  sort  of  wickedness, 
even  the  doctors  of  the  heathen  nations,  that 
is,  their  philosophers  and  theologcrs,  and  their 

(  Oi  j{  yiVoOai  rt  wa'Xiv  Kal  (I'lov  ajicivo>\a0civ  ck  wepirpo- 

»!)< — Lib.  i.  coNT.  App. 

*  Ci's  ira)  lyytKiuiu*'  iipjjquo/iev  fiCTa  rdy  OuKaroy. 


poetsalso,  were  sensible  of  and  acknowledged ; 
though  they  were  quite  iirnorant  of  the  source 
from  which  this  calamiiy  was  derived.  They 
all  own,  that  "it  is  natural  to  man  to  sin."* 
Even  your  favorite  philosopher,  who  prevails 
in  the  schools,  declares  that  we  are  "  str  ong- 
ly  inclined  to  vice  ;"t  and  speaking:  of  the 
charms  and  allurements  of  forbidden  pleas- 
ures, he  observes,  that  mankind  by  nature 
"  is  easily  catched  in  these  snares. "|:  The 
Reman  philosopher  takes  notice,  that  "  the 
way  to  vice  is  not  only  a  descent,  but  a  down- 
right precipice. "II  And  the  comic  poet,  that 
"mankind  has  always  been,  in  every  respect, 
a  deceitful,  subtle  creature. "s''  The  satirist 
likewise  observes,  that  "we  are  all  easily 
prevailed  on  to  imitate  things  that  are  in 
their  nature  wicked  and  disgraceful. "1l  And 
the  lyric  poet,  that  "  the  human  race,  bold  to 
attempt  the  greatest  dangers,  rushes  with 
impetuosity  upon  j'orbidden  crimes."** 

All  the  wise  men  anio;  ,''  the  heathens  ex- ^ 
erted  their  utmost  to  remecy  this  evil  by  pre- 
cepts and  institutions  of  philosophy,  but  to 
very  little  purpose.  They  could  not,  by  all 
their  arts  and  all  their  precejjts,  make  others 
better:  nay,  with  regard  to  most  of  them,  we 
may  say,  nor  even  themselves.  But,  "when 
there  was  no  wisdom  in  the  earth,"  says  Lac- 
tantius,  "  that  blessed  doctor  was  sent  down 
from  heaven,  who  is  the  way,  t*e  truth,  and 
the  life  ;t1'  and,  by  an  almighty  power,  effect- 
ed what  all  others  had  attempted  in  vain. 

It  is  not  at  all  to  be  doubled,  but  the  end 
proposed  by  philosophy,  was  to  renew  and 
reform  mankind,  and  to  reduce  the  course  of 
their  lives  to  a  conformity  with  the  precepts 
of  wisdom  and  virtue.  Whence  the  common 
definition  given  of  philosophy,  is,  that  "it  is 
the  rule  of  life,  and  the  art  or  science  of  liv- 
ing ujjrightly."  To  this  purpose  Seneca  says, 
"  Philosophy  is  the  law  of  living  honestly  and 
uprightly."  True  religion,  to  be  sure,  has 
the  same  tendency  ;  but  it  promotes  its  end 
with  much  greater  force,  and  better  success  ; 
because  its  principles  are  much  more  exalted, 
its  precepts  and  instructions  are  of  greater 
purity,  and  it  is,  besides,  attended  with  a  Di- 
vine power,  whereby  it  makes  its  way  into 
the  hearts  of  men,  and  purifies  them  with  the 
greatest  force  and  efficacy,  and  yet,  at  the 
same  time,  with  the  most  wonderful  pleasure 
and  delight.  And  this  is  the  rejrenerationoi 
which  we  are  speaking,  and  whereof  we  have 

*  Ew/j'^ijroi'  tlvai  roT^  di/dftunoi^  to  hiiapTavnv* 

t  Ei'iTiTo^iifiouj,    Aribt.,  Eth,  ii. 

\  ^iiOfiparnv  livai  vrrd  ruiii  roiouruiv. 
II  Ad  viti;i,  noil  tantiiin  ))roiiii]n  itor,  sed  etpra-ceps. 
§  Ai^cpos        act  Kara  navra  pf)  Tp6i<ov. 
WtijtvKtti  nvOponraf. 

II  Docilos  imitandis 

Turpibus  et  j)ravis  omnes  suinus. 

Juv.  Satyr,  xiv. 

*'  Audax  omnia  perpeti, 

Gens  humana  ruit  per  vctitiim  nefas. 

HoR.  Carin.,  lib.  1.,  Od.  a. 
tt  Sed  cum  nulla  esset  sapiciuin  in  terris,  m.issut 
este  cceIo  doctor  ille,  via,  Veritas  et  vita. 


C86 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


already  obse'ved,  that  pliilosopliy  ticknowl- 
fdt^id  it.  I'vm  under  the  same  name.  But 
that  it  cllVcied  it,  we  absolutely  deny.  Mow, 
it  is  evident  I'rom  the  very  name,  that  we  are 
to  understand  by  ii  an  inward  change,  and 
that  a  very  reinarkai)le  one.  And  since  (lod 
is  called  tlie  autlmr  and  source  ol  ihis  change, 
whatever  ilie  philosophers  may  have  dispu- 
ted, pro  and  run,  concerning  the  origin  of 
moral  virtue,  we  are  by  no  means  to  doubt 
but  this  sacred  and  Divine  change  upon  the 
heart  of  man  is  produced  by  an  influence 
truly  ilivinc.  And  this  was  even  Plato's 
opinion  concerning  virtue;  nor  do  I  imagine 
you  are  unac(|uainted  with  it.  The  same 
philosopher,  and  several  others  besides  him, 
expressly  asseried,  that  virtue  was  a  kind  of 
image  or  likeness  of  God,  nay,  that  it  was 
ihe  effect  of  inspiration,  and  partook,  in  some 
respect,  of  a  knul  of  Divine  nature.  "  No 
mind  can  be  rightly  disposed  without  divine 
influence,"  says  Seneca.**  And  it  was  the 
saying  of  the  Pythagorean  philosophers,  that 
••  the  end  ol' man  is  to  be  madeliketo  God."t 
"  Tills  mind,"  says  Trismegistus,  "  is  God  in 
man,  and  therefore  some  of  the  number  of 
men  are  gods."|  And  a  little  farther  on,  •'  In 
whatever  souls  the  mind  presides,  it  illustrates 
them  with  its  own  brigiitness,  opposing  their 
immoralities  and  mad  inclinations,  just  as  a 
learned  phj^Kcian  inflicts  pain  upon  the  body 
of  his  patient,  by  burning  and  cutting  it,  in 
order  to  recover  it  to  i.c^^llh:  In  the  same 
manner,  the  mind  afflicts  a  voluptuous  soul, 
that  it  may  pull  up  pleasure  by  the  very 
roots.  For  all  diseases  of  the  soul  proceed 
from  it :  impiety  is  the  severest  distemper  of 
the  soul."|| 

What  wonder  is  it,  then,  if  these  very 
thoughts  are  expressed  in  the  more  Divine 
oracles  of  the  sacred  Scriptures  more  fully, 
and  with  greaterclearness  ?  and  this  confirma- 
tion of  the  human  mind  to  the  Divine  nature, 
is  commonly  represented  therein,  as  the  great 
business  and  tiie  end  of  all  religion. 

What  was  more  frequently  inculcated  upon 
the  ancient  church  of  the  Jews,  than  these 
words,  jBe  yc  livly,  because  1  am  hob/  ?  And  that 
the  same  ambition  is  recommended  to  Chris- 
tians, appears  from  the  first  sermon  we  meet 
with  in  the  gospel  of  our  Lord  and  Savior,  who 
came  down  to  this  earth,  that  he  might  re- 
store the  Divine  image  upon  men.  Be  merci- 
ful, says  he,  as  your  Father,  who  is  in  heav- 
en, IS  mercifvl.  And  according  to  Luke,  Be 
perfect,  as  your  Father  is  perfect.  And  again. 
Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart.  And,  indeed, 
this  is  the  true  beauty  of  the  heart,  and  its  true 
nobility  ;  but  vice  introduces  degeneracy,  and 
Jeforniity  also. 

Now,  the  more  the  mind  disengages  and 

•  Nulla  sinr  Deo  bona  mens  est. 

rlvtf  Tuv  avOpoiiroiii  lle"i  ctat,  [Trismeg.]  ttcoitovxci- 
now  irpof  rar. 


'withdraws  itself  from  "matter  that  pollutes 
it,"*  that  is,  from  the  body  it  inhabits,  the 
])urer  and  more  Divine  it  constantly  becomes, 
because  it  attains  to  a  greater  resemblance  with 
the  Father  of  spirits,  and,  as  the  A  postle  Petei 
expresses,  partuhes  more  fully  of  the  Divme 
nature,  ilence  it  is,  that  the  Apostle  Paul 
warns  us  at  so  great  length,  and  in  such  strong 
terms,  against  living  after  the  frsh,  as  the 
very  death  of  the  soul,  and  directly  opposite 
to  the  renewed  nature  of  a  Christian.  He 
that  is  horn  of  God  is  endued  with  a  great- 
ness of  soul,  that  makes  him  easily  despise, 
and  consider  as  nothing,  those  things  wliich 
he  prized  at  a  very  high  rate  before:  he  con- 
siders heaven  as  his  country,  even  while  he 
lives  as  a  stranger  on  this  earth  ;  he  aspires 
at  the  highest  objects,  and,  flying  uj)  toward 
heaven,  with  soaring  wings,  he  "  looks  down 
with  contempt  upon  the  earth. "I 

And  yet,  with  all  this  sublimity  of  mind  he 
joins  the  deepest  humility.  But  all  the  allure- 
ments of  sin,  though  they  continue  to  have 
the  same  ajipearance  they  liad  before,  and 
possibly  throw  themselves  in  .  way,  as  the 
very  same  that  were  formerly  dear  to  him, 
he  will  reject  with  indignation,  and  give  thern 
the  same  answer  as  St.  Ambrose  tells  us  was 
given  by  a  young  convert  to  his  mistress, 
witli  whom  he  had  formerly  lived  in  great 
familiarity  :  "Though  you  may  be  the  same, 
I  am  not  the  same  I  was  before. "J 

Lactantius  elegantly  sets  forth  the  wonder- 
ful j)ower  of  religion  in  this  respect  ;  "Give 
me,"  says  he,  "a  man  that  is  passionate,  a 
slanderer,  one  that  is  headstrong  and  unman- 
ageable; with  a  very  few  of  the  words  of 
God,  I  will  make  him  as  quiet  as  a  lamb. 
Give  me  a  covetous,  avaricious,  or  close- 
handed  person  ;  I  will  presently  make  him 
liberal,  and  oblige  him  to  giveaway  his  mon- 
ey in  large  quantities  with  his  own  hands. 
Give  me  one  that  is  afraid  of  pain  or  of  death  : 
he  shall,  in  a  very  little  time,  despise  crosses, 
flames,  and  even  Phalaris's  bull.  Show  me  a 
lustful  person,  an  adulterer,  a  complete  de- 
bauchee ;  you  shall  presently  see  him  sober, 
chaste,  and  temperate."l|  So  great  is  the 
power  of  Divine  wisdom,  that,  as  soon  as  it 
is  infused  into  the  human  breast,  it  presently 
expels  folly,  which  is  the  source  and  fountain 
of  sin,  and  so  changes  the  whole  man,  so  re- 
fines, and  as  it  were  renews  him,  that  you 
would  not  know  him  to  be  the  same.  It  is 
prophesied  ol'  the  days  of  the  Messiah,  that 
the  tvolf  and  the  lamh  shall  dwell  together,  and 

•  'Aird  rrii  iXSt  0tfl}op'oaa<;. 

•f  udain 

Spermit  humum  fugientp  penna. 
X  Al  ego  certe  non  sum  ego. 

I  Dii  inihi  viniin  qui  sit  iratumliis,  nialodl^uii,  eC 
fni'natiis  ;  paucissiiiiis  Dei  verbis  tarn  jilaeidi.m  <)uajr 
ovem  reildaiii.  Da  ciipiiUirn,  avavum,  teiiacem  ;  jaii 
tibi  euin  liberalem  dabft,  et  iieciinin'^n  sMani  fTopriw 
pleniMjiio  ;  ITlanibll^  lar^ieiilein.  L-  tiiiiidi.r.  loloriii 
ae  iiHirtis  ;  jam  cniees,  et  ifriies,  et  I'ljaliirid.-  taurutn 
coiilemiiet.  Da  lihidinosiiii.,  adultenim,  ganeoneni 
jam  sobrium,  >.ablum,  continentc-ui  viciehis 


REGENERATION. 


687 


(ke  leopard  He  doun  with  the  kid.  Isa.  xi.  6. 
The  gospel  lias  a  wonderful  effect  in  soften- 
ing even  the  roughest  dispositions,  and  "  there 
is  none  so  wild,  but  he  may  be  tamed,  if  he 
will  but  patiently  give  atteulion  to  this  whole- 
some doctrine.''* 

Now,  wiiether  you  call  this  renovation  or 
changeofihemind, repentance,  orDivine  love, 
it  makes  no  ditference  ;  for  all  these,  and, 
indeed,  ail  tlie  Christian  graces  in  general, 
are,  at  bottom,  one  and  the  same,  and,  taken 
together,  constitute  what  we  may  call  the 
nealth  and  vtgor  of  the  mind  ;  the  term  under 
which  Aristo  or  Chios  comprehended  all 
the  moral  virtues.  The  Apostle  Paul,  in 
his  second  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  chap, 
vi.  17,  describes  these  adopted  children  of 
God  by  their  repentance:  in  the  Epistle  to 
the  Romans,  they  are  characterized  by  their 
love,  Rom.  viii.  28 ;  and  in  the  passage  of  St. 
John's  gospel  we  have  mentioned  already,  by 
their  faith,  John  i.  12.  But  whatever  name 
it  is  conveyed  by,  the  change  itself  is  effected 
by  the  right  hand  of  the  Most  High.  As  to 
the  manner  of  this  divine  operation,  to  raise 
many  disputes  about  it,  and  make  many  curi- 
ous disquisitions  with  reirard  to  it,  would  be 
not  only  i|uite  needless,  but  even  absurd.  Solo- 
mon, in  his  Ecclesiastes,  chap.  xi.  5,  gives 
some  grave  admonitions  with  regard  to  the 
secret  processes  of  nature  in  forming  the  fcEtus 
in  the  womb,  to  convince  us  of  our  blindness 
■with  respect  to  the  other  works  of  God  :  how 
niucli  more  hidden  and  intricate,  and  even  [)ast 
our  finding  out,  is  this  regeneration,  which  is 
])ureiy  spiritual  !  This  is  what  our  Savior 
also  leaches  us,  when  he  compares  this  new 
binb  to  tile  unconlined  and  unknown  turnings 
and  revoluiions  of  tiie  wind  ;  a  similitude 
whicii  Sohnnon  had  lightly  touched  before,  in 
that  jiass.ige  (if  the  Ecclesiastes,  to  which  we 
just  now  alluded.  0!  that  we  felt  within  our- 
selves this  blessed  change,  though  we  should  re- 
main ignorant  with  regard  to  the  manner  of  it ; 
since  we  are  sufli(;ienily  apprized  of  one  thing, 
which  It  IS  greatly  our  interest  frequently  and 
seriously  to  reflect  upon  !  Unless  a  man  be 
horn  Ui^um,  he  can  not  see  the  kingdom  of 
God.  This  spiritual  progeny  is  also  compar- 
ed lo  the  dew,  the  generation  whereof  is  hid- 
den and  undiscovered.  Ilath  the  rain  a  fa-  \ 
ther,  and  ir/io  hr/lh  hegnllen  the  drops  of  the 
dew?  Job  xxxiii.  28.  (rood  men  are  also  call- 
ed chiiilren  of  litrht,  and  light  in  the  Ijord, 
1  Thcss.  V.  .t:  Eph.  v.  8.  But  it  is  from  Ikr.  Fa- 
ther of  lii{hts  himself,  and  from  his  only  be- 
gotten Son,  that  these  stars  (for  this  title  of  I 
the  angels  may,  without  injustice,  be  applied 
to  llieni)  derive  all  the  light  they  enjoy.  Now, 
the  nature  of  light  is  very  intricate,  and  the 
emanation  and  the  manner  of  its  production 
is  yet  a  secret  even  to  the  most  sharp-sighted 
of  those  who  have  made  naiure  ibeir  study, 
and  no  satisfactory  theory  of  it  has  yet  ap- 
peared.   But,  whatever  it  is,  it  was  produced  j 

•  Nemo  adon  f  !rus  pst,  ut  noti  initcscero  possit  | 
Huic  inodo  At  ctriii^  palientcin  corninodct  aurem. 


I  by  that  first  and  powerful  word  of  Eternal  and 
uncreated  light.    Let  there  be  light.    By  the 
same  powerful  word  of  the  Almighty  Father, 
there  immediately  springs  up  in  the  mind 
which  was  formerly  quite  involved  in  the 
darkness  of  ignorance  and  error,  a  Divine  and 
immortal  light,  which  is  the  life  o/'we/i,  and, 
\  in  effect,  the  true  regeneration.    And  because 
•  this  is  the  most  effectual  means  of  porifying 
the  soul,  it  is  ascribed  to  the  water  ■And  to  the 
j  Spirit.     For  this  illumination  of  the  Holy 
I  Ghost  is,  indeed,  ihe  inward  baptism  of  the 
Spirit ;  but,  in  the  primitive  times  of  Chris- 
j  tianity,  the  baptism  of  water,  on  account  of 
:  the  supposed  concurrence  of  the  Spirit,  was 
commonly  called  the  illumination,  and  the 
solemn  seasons  appointed  for  the  celebration 
!  of  this  mystery,  days  of  illumination  or  light. 
And  in  the  very  same  manner,  the  baptism 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  by  John  Baptist  called 
the  baptism  of fire,  on  account  of  the  wonder 
ful  influence  it  has  in  illuminating  and  puri" 
fying  the  soul.   It  is,  lo  be  sure,  a  celesiial  fire, 
quite  invisible  to  our  eyes,  and  (if  such  a  na- 
j  ture,  that  the  secret  communications  of  it  Co 
jour  souls  can  not  be  investigated.    But  th  i 
sum  of  all  is  what  follows. 

It  seemed  good  to  Infinite  Goodness  am. 
Wisdom,  to  form  a  noble  piece  d"  coin  out  ol 
clay,  and  to  stamp  his  own  image  ujion  it, 
with  this  inscription,  "  The  earthly  son  of 
God  ;"  this  is  what  we  call  man.  But,  alas! 
how  soon  did  this  piece  of  coin  fall  back  to 
clay  again,  and  thereby  lost  that  irue  image, 
and  had  the  inscription  shamefully  blotted 
out !  From  that  lime,  man,  who  was  former- 
ly a  Divine  creature,  and  an  anffcl  clothed 
with  flesh,  became  entirely  fleshly,  and  in 
reality  a  brute:  the  soul,  that  noble  and  ce- 
lestial inhabitant  of  his  earthly  body,  became 
now  quite  immersed  in  mailer,  and,  as  it 
were,  entirely  convened  into  flesh,  as  if  it  had 
drunk  of  the  river  Lethe.  Or,  like  the  son  of 
an  illustrious  family,  carried  away  in  infancy 
lo  a  far  country,  it  is  quite  ignorant  of  its 
present  misery,  or  the  liberty  and  felicity  it 
has  lost,  becomes  an  abject  slave,  degraded  to 
the  vilest  employments,  which  it  naturally 
and  with  pleasure  performs:  because,  having 
losl  all  sense  of  its  native  excellence  and  dig- 
nity, and  forgotten  its  heavenly  original,  it 
now  relishes  nothing  but  earthly  things,  and, 
catching  at  present  advanla:;es,  disregards 
eKirnal  enjoytnents,  as  altogether  unknown, 
or  removed  quite  out  of  sight.  But  if  in  any 
pariicular  soul,  either  from  some  spark  of  its 
native  excellency  still  remaining  alive,  or  any 
indistinct  report  that  reaches  it,  snme  desires 
or  emotions  toward  the  recovery  of  its  native 
liberty  should  arise  ;  yet,  as  il  has  no  sullicient 
strength  of  its  own,  nor  finds  any  way  open 
that  can  lead  to  so  great  a  blessing,  these  in- 
effectual wishes  come  lo  nothing  ;  and  the  un- 
happy soul  having  lost  its  hopes,  liin^ruishes 
in  its  chains,  and  is  at  last  (|uite  stu[)ilied. 

Philosophy,  as  we  have  already  observed, 
perceiving  that  man  was  born  to  higher  views 


ess 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


than  this  world  affords,  attempted  to  raise 
him  from  his  present  dejection,  secure  liis 
claim  lu  heaven,  and  restore  him  to  a  con- 
formity and  likeness  to  God  ;  but  in  vain.  To 
redeem  tlie  sons  of  man,  and  restore  them  to 
what  they  had  lost,  it  was  necessary  that  the 
eternal  Son  of  God  should  come  down  from 
heaven.  Our  fall  was  easily  brought  about, 
but  our  restoration  was  a  work  of  the  greatest 
dilBculiy,  and  only  to  be  perA)rmed  by  the 
powerful  hand  of  God.  There  are  but  few 
whom  the  exalted  Father  of  spirits  has  loved, 
and  Christ  has  raised  up  to  heaven.  He  is 
the  source  whence  the  Spirit  of  God  flows 
down  to  us  :  he  is  the  fountain  of  that  new 
lite  and  sanctified  nature,  by  which  we  mount 
toward  God,  whereby  we  overcome  the 
world,  and,  in  consequence  thereof,  are  ad- 
mitted into  heaven.  And,  happy,  to  be  sure, 
are  those  truly  noble  souls  whose  fate  it  is  to 
be  thus  born  asain,  to  be  admitted  into  the 
choirs  of  the  holy  ansjels,  and  to  be  clothed 
with  ihose  glorious  robes  that  are  whiter  than 
snow  .'  They  will  follow  the  Lamb  wherever 
he  goes,  and  he  will  lead  them  to  the  crystal 
streams,  and  even  to  the  fountain  of  life  itself 
But  all  those  that  are  to  be  the  attendants 
of  the  Lamb  in  those  blessed  pastures  which 
are  to  be  met  with  in  his  heavenly  country, 
must,  of  necessity,  even  while  thev  live  in 
this  lower  world,  be  followers  of  him  in  his 
humble  innocence  and  purity.  This  spotless, 
holy,  and  pure  Lamb  of  God,  is  the  guide  and 
rhepherd  of  a  pure  and  holy  flock,  a  flock 
dear  to  God,  and  of  distinguished  beauty  :  but 
"  the  shepherd  is  still  mure  beautiful  than 
they."*  Bui  the  impure  aoats  and  uncleanly 
hogs  he  beholds  at  a  distance,  and  leaves 
them  to  unclean  spirits,  to  be  possessed  by 
them  at  pleasure,  and  afterward  to  be  pre- 
cipitated into  the  depth  of  misery  ;  unless  it 
be  determined  to  deliver  some  of  them  from 
that  shocking  form,  by  a  wonderful  and  di- 
vine change,  and  to  convert  them  into  lambs, 
which  is  eSected  in  proper  time,  by  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Whence  they  are 
called  the  holv,  pure,  and  divine  sons  of  God  ; 
and  all  love  to  earthly  things,  all  carnal,  impure 
affections,  are  banished  out  of  those  hearts, 
which  are,  as  it  were,  temples  consecrated 
henceforth  to  God  :  "  For  the  dwelling  place 
of  the  Holy  One  must  be  holy  also."t 


LECTURE  XVn. 

TRUE  FELICITY  AND  ETERNAL  PUNISHMENT. 

0  HOW  insipid  and  unsatisfactory  are  all 
the  pleasures  of  this  earthly  life  which  we 
now  live,  in  respect  of  that  incomparable  and 
altoaether  heavenly  delight  which  attends 
the  meditation  and  contemplation  of  Divine 
things  I  When  mortals  are  thus  employed, 
ihey  eat  the  bread  of  angels  ;  and  if  there  are 

•  Formosi  jiocorls  cuvtns  formnsior. 
f  *Ayiov  yap  aytov  eariv  dtKrjrftptov, 


I  any  who  do  not  relish  the  sweetness  of  this 
I  food,  it  is  because  the  divine  part' of  their 
composition  is  become  brutish,  and,  forget- 
ting its  original,  lies  buried  in  cariii  and  mud. 
But  though  the  soul  is  reduced  to  these  wo- 
ful  circumsiances,  it  is  not  yet  so  entirely  di- 
I  vested  of  itself,  but  it  still  retains  some  faint 
remains  of  its  heavenly  original  and  more  ex- 
alted nature  ;  insomuch,  that  it  can  not  acqui- 
esce in,  or  be  at  all  satisfied  with  those  fa- 
ding enjoyments  wherewith  it  is  surrounded, 
nor  think  itself  happy  or  easy  in  the  greatest 
abundance  of  earthly  comforts.  And  though, 
possibly,  it  may  not  be  fully  sensible  of  what 
it  wants;  yet  it  perceives,  not  wiihout  some 
pain  and  uneasiness,  that  somcibing  is  still 
wanting  to  make  it  happy.  'J'he  truth  is,  be- 
sides that  great  and  unkn(jwn  good,  even  those 
whom,  by  an  abuse  of  that  term,  we  call 
most  happy,  are  in  want  of  a  great  many 
I  things.  For,  if  we  look  narrowly  into  the 
condition  of  those  who  are  arrived  at  the 
highest  pitch  of  earthly  splerdor,  we  shiiii 
certainly  find  some  defect  and  imperfection  in 
it,  and  be  oblisred  to  conclude  with  the  poi!t, 
that  "since  the  earth  began  to  be  iiihaiiitcd 
by  men,  a  full  cup  of  good  things,  without 
any  mixture  of  evil,  never  fell  to  the  share  of 
one  man  :  a  oraceful  body  is  often  dishonored 
by  bad  morals,  and  a  mind  of  uncommon 
beautv  is  sometime  joined  to  a  deformed 
body,"  &c.* 

But  what  we  call  the  chief  and  su- 
preme good  must  of  necessity  be  complete 
and  entirelv  free  from  every  defect  ;  and, 
therefore,  what  is  not  in  every  respect  per- 
fect, properlv  speaking,  is  not  jierfect  at  all. 
The  happiness  of  rich  and  sreat  men,  which 
the  poor  adinire  and  respect,  is  only  a  gaudy 
and  splendid  species  of  misery.  What  St. 
Bernard  says  of  the  rash  and  ill-founded  opin- 
ion which  the  generality  of  mankind  form  of 
the  lives  of  the  saints,  from  the  imperfect 
knowledffe  they  have  of  them,  "  They  see 
our  crosses,  but  they  see  not  our  comforts,"f 
may  be  here  inverted  :  we  see  the^advantages 
of  those  men  that  are  puffed  up  with  riches 
and  honors,  but  we  see  not  their  troubles, 
and  vexations.  "I  wish,"  says  one,  "that 
those  who  desjre  riches  would  consult  rich 
men  ;  they  weTuld  then,  to  be  sure,  be  of 
another  opinion. "{ 

I  will  spend  no  more  time  in  describing  or 
lamenting  the  wretched  state  of  mankind  on 
this  earth,  because  it  would  answer  no  end. 
For,  suppose  a  more  complete  assemblage  of 
sublunary  enjoyments,  and  a  more  perfect 
svstem  of  earthly  felicity  than  ever  the  sun 
beheld,  the  mind  of  man  would  instantly  de- 
vour it,  and,  as  if  it  were  still  empty  ano  un- 

*   Elenim  mortabilis  ex  quo 

Tellus  coepta  coli,  nunquam  sinccra  bnnorum 
Sorsulli  concessa  viro  ;  qiiem  :or|)iis  honestat 
Dedecorant  mores  ;  animus  quern  piUclirior  oma 
Coppus  dcstituit,  &c. 

t  Cruces  nostras  vident.  unctionps  non  vidcnt. 

t  Utinam,  utinam  qui  divitias  appplunt,cum  diviti 
bus  deliberarent ;  certe  vota  mulareiit. 


TKUE  FELICITY  AND  ETERNAL  PUNISHMENT. 


689 


satisfied,  wouldrequire  something  more.  And, 
/iideed,  by  this  insatiable  thirst,  tlie  mind  of 
man  discovers  its  natural  excellence  and  dig- 
nity ;  for  thus  it  proves,  that  all  things  here 
below  are  insufficient  to  satisfy  or  make  it 
happy  :  and  its  capacity  is  so  great  and  exten- 
sive, that  it  can  not  be  filled  by  the  whole  of 
this  visible  frame  of  things.  For,  as  St.  Au- 
gustine observes,  "  Thou  hast  made  us,  0 
Lord,  for  thyself,  and  our  hearts  are  restless 
till  they  return  to  thee."*  The  mind  that 
makes  God  its  refuge,  after  it  has  been  much 
tossed  to  and  fro,  and  distressed  in  the  world, 
enjoys  perfect  peace  and  absolute  security  ; 
and  it  is  the  fate  of  those,  and  those  only, 
who  put  into  this  safe  harbor,  to  have  what 
the  same  St.  Augustine  calls  a  very  great 
matter,  "  The  frailty  of  man,  together  with 
the  security  of  Ciod."t 

Therefore,  it  is  not  without  reason,  that 
the  royal  psalmist  boasts  not  of  his  victories, 
nor  the  splendor  of  his  royal  crown,  but  of 
this  one  advantage  :    The  Lord  is  the  portinn 
of  mine  inherilance,  and  of  my  cup  ;  thou 
maintainest  my  lot  :    and,  on  the  justest 
grounds,  he  immediately  adds,   The  lij^es 
have  fallen  to  me  in  pleaxant  places  ;  yen,  I 
have  a  •roodlyherita'^e.  Psalm  xvi.  r>.  6.  And  it 
isquiteagreeabletoreason  that  whatimproves 
and  completes  anything  else  must  be  iiself 
more  complete  and  perfect :  so  that  the  mind  of 
man  can  neither  be  made  happy  by  eanlily 
enjoyments,  which  arc  all  far  inferior  to  it  in 
dignity,  nor  be  so  in  itself.    Nay,  neither  can 
the  angels,  though  of  a  more  perfect  and  sub- 
lime nature,  confer  felicity  either  upon  men 
or  themselves;   but  both  they  and  we  have 
our  happiness  lodged  in  that  Eternal  Mind, 
which  alone  is  its  own  felicity.     Nor  is  it 
possible  for  us  to  find  it  anywhere  else,  but  in 
our  union  with  that  Original  Wisdom  and  ; 
goodness,  from  which  we  at  first  took  our 
rise.     Away,  then,  with  all  the  fictitious  i 
schemes  of  felicity  proposed  by  the  philoso-] 
phers,  even  those  of  them  that  were  most  art-  I 
fully  contrived  ;  fur  even  Aristotle's  perfec- | 
tion  of  virtue,  as  well  as  what  the  stoics  fanci-  [ 
ed  concerning  their  wise  man,  are  mere  fic- 
tions.   They  are  nothing  but  dreams  and  fan- ' 
cies,  that  ouijht  lo  be  banished  to  Utopia. 
For  what  they  describe  is  nowhere  to  be 
found  among  men,  and  if  it  were,  it  would 
not  constitute  complete  felicity.    So  far,  in- [ 
deed,  they  are  to  be  commended,  that  ihev  [ 
call  in  the  mind  from  external  enjoyments  to  i 
itself;  but  in  this  they  are  defective,  that  [ 
when  the  mind  is  returned  to  itself,  tliey  ) 
carry  ii  no  further,  nor  direct  it  to  ascend,  as  1 
it  were,  al)ove  itself.    They  sometimes,  it  is  I 
tiue,  drop  such  expressions  as  these,  that 
"  there  can  be  no  go  )d  disposition  of  the  mind  I 
without  God  :"t  and  that,  in  order  to  be  hap- 
py, the  soul  must  be  raised  up  to  divine 

•  Feciisti  nos,  Domino,  j)rf)ptcr  te,  et  itiquietum  est 
cor  nostriiin,  doiipc  in  u-  rcdi  at. 

t  Habere  fra(;ilit,itfiiii  hnminis  et  scciiritaiein  Dei. 
t  Nullum  posse  esses  inc  Deo  bonatn  nientem. 
87 


things :  they  also  tell  us,  ihat  "  the  wise 
man  loves  God  most  of  all,  and  for  this  rea- 
son is  the  most  happy  man."*  But  these  ex- 
pressions they  drop  only  at  random,  and  by- 
the-by.  0  !  how  much  fuller  and  clearer 
are  the  instructions  of  the  Teacher  sent  dowQ 
from  heaven  :  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart, 
for  they  shall  sec  God.  Matt.  v.  3. 

But  because  the  purest  m.nds  of  the  saints, 
while  they  sojourn  in  this  earth,  still  retain 
some  mixture  of  earthly  dross,  and  arise  not 
to  perfect  purity  ;  therefore  they  can  not  yet 
enjoy  the  full  vision  of  God,  nor,  consequent- 
ly, that  perfect  happiness  which  is  insepara- 
bly connected  with  it.  For  they  see  only 
darkly,  and  through  a  glass.  1  Cor.  xiii.  12. 
]  But  with  the  advantage  even  of  this  obscure 
light,  they  direct  their  steps,  and  goon  cheer- 
ful and  unwearied.  The  long-wished-forday 
will  at  length  come,  when  they  will  be  ad- 
I  mitted  into  the  fullest  light.  That  day, 
j  which  the  unhappy  men  of  this  world  drf  ad 
i  as  their  last,  the  sons  of  light  wish  for,  as 
'  their  nativity  into  an  endless  life,  and  em- 
brace it  with  the  greatest  joy  when  it  comes. 
And  this,  indeed,  seems  to  me  to  be  the 
strongest  argument  for  another  life  and  an 
immortality  to  come.  For  since  no  complete 
or  absolutely  perfect  happiness  is  to  be  found 
in  this  life,  it  must  certainly  follow,  that  either 
there  is  no  such  thing  to  be  had  anywhere,  or 
we  musi  live  again  somewhere  afier  our  period 
here  is  out.  And  0  !  what  fools  are  we,  and 
hotv  slow  of  heart  to  believe,  who  think  so 
rarely,  and  with  such  coolness,  of  that  blessed 
country  ;  and  that,  in  this  parched  and  thirsty 
land,  where  even  those  few  who  are  so  hap- 
py have  only  some  foretastes  of  that  supreme 
liappiness.  But  when  they  remove  hence, 
they  shall  he  ahundantl i/  satisfied  (or,  as  the' 
word  ouarht  to  be  translated,  inebriahuntnr, 
intoxicated),  O  Lord,  with  the  fatness  of  thy' 
house,  and  thou  shall  make  them  drink  of  the 
river  of  thy  pleasures.  Psalm  xxxvi.  9.  Thus- 
the  divine  psalmist  expresses  it ;  and,  to  be 
sure,  it  is  very  surprising  that  the  great  and- 
ancient  philosopher  Pythagoras,  in  coinrr.o 
nicating  his  thoughts  upon  the  same  subject, 
should  happen  to  fall  up(jn  the  very  same  fig- 
ure ;  for  he  used  to  promise  those  of  his  dis 
ciples  who  conducied  themselves  right  in  tins 
life,  that  they  should  be  continually  drunk\  '\x\- 
that  which  is  to  come. 

But  what  we  said  formerly,  of  the  felicity 
of  the  life  to  come,  and  all  that  we  could  say,, 
were  we  to  treat  of  the  same  suliject  over 
again,  is  hut  mere  trifling.  And  yet  it  is  not 
disagreeable  to  hear  children  s[)eak,  even  with 
stammering,  about  the  dignity  of  their  falhir,. 
and  of  the  riches  and  magnificence  of  his  in- 
heritance. It  is  pleasant  and  deceni  to  speuk 
of  our  native  country,  even  while  we  are  fo- 
journing  in  a  foreign  land.    But,  fiir  the  pres- 

t  McOqv  dciivaol'. 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


«?m.  /  sliall  in<i?t  no  lonsfer  on  this  subject, 
but,  luriiin<T  ilie  lables,  lay  before  you  that 
dreadful  punisliment  which  stands  in  opposi- 
tion to  this  happiness,  by  presenting  you  only 
with  a  transient  view  of  ilie  future  nii>ery 
of  the  wicked.  And  thoui^h  this  is  indeed  a 
most  unpleasant  task,  yet  nothing  but  our 
own  carelessness  and  inattention  can  render 
it  useless. 

Here,  first  of  all,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that 
as,  in  this  life,  there  is  no  perfect  felicity  ;  so 
neither  here  is  there  any  complete  misery. 
Those  whom  we  look  upon  as  the  most 
wretched  in  this  world,  have  their  suiferings 
checkered  with  many  iniervali;  of  ease.  But 
the  misery  to  come  admits  of  no  abatement  ; 
it  is  all  of  a  piece,  without  admitting  any 
mixture  of  relief.  They  are  surely  mad  with 
their  notions,  who  here  talk  of  the  advantages 
of  beinnf  or  existence,  and  contend  that  it  is 
more  desirable  lobe  miserable  than  not  to  be 
at  all.*  For  my  part,  I  am  fuHy  satisfied  they 
can  never  persuade  any  man  of  the  truth  of 
their  assertion  ;  nor  even  believe  it  them- 
selves, wheti  they  think  seriously  on  the  sub- 
ject. But  not  to  insist  on  this,  it  is  certain 
that  all  kind  of  delisrhts  are  for  ever  banished 
from  that  eternal  and  frightful  prison.  There 
there  is  no  light,  no  day,  nor  sleep,  which  is 
the  blessing  of  the  n'cht,  and,  indeed^  noth- 
ing at  all  but  places  lull  of  darkness,  precipi- 
ces, nakedness,  and  all  kinds  of  horror;  no 
entertainments,  merry  meetings,  nor  any  sen- 
sible pleasure  :  and  to  be  for  ever  separated 
from  all  such  must  be  no  small  misery,  espe- 
cially to  those  who  used  to  pass  their  time 
amid  such  scenes  of  mirth  and  jollity,  and 
imagined  themselves  in  some  measure  hap)iy 
therein.  And  that  the  remembrance  of  this 
may  distress  them  the  more,  they  will  be 
continually  haunted  with  a  thought  that  will 
cleave  to  them  like  a  worm  devouring  their 
bowels,  and  constantly  keep  them  in  mind, 
that  out  of  a  distracted  fondness  for  those 
fleeting  pleasures  which  have  now  flown 
away,  without  hope  of  returning,  they  have 
lost  those  joys  that  are  heavenly  and  eternal, 
whereof  they  will  have  some  knowledge  ; 
but  what  kind  of  knowledge  that  will  be,  and 
how  far  extended  to  etihance  their  torments, 
is  not  ours  to  determine.  But  who  will  at- 
tempt to  express  the  excess  of  their  misery, 
or  describe  those  streams  of  brimstone,  and 
eternal  flames  of  Divine  wrath  ?  Or  rather, 
who  will  not  tremble,  I  say  not  in  describing 
rliem,  but  even  in  thinking  of  ihem,  and  be 
quite  overpowered  with  an  idea  so  shocking  ? 

That  I  may  no  further  at  empt  to  speak 
thinsfs  unutterable, t  and  to  derosraie  from  a 
gi^nd  subject  by  inadequate  expressions, t  be- 
».old  now,  my  dear  youths,  if  y(,u  believe 
these  things,  behold,  I  say,  you  have  now 
life  and  death  laid  before  you  ;  choose  for 
yourselves.    And  that  you  may  not  put  off  a 
*  \Tisfnim  f ssc  qiiam  non  esse, 
f  Ta  a^a\riTa  \a\eiadai* 
t  Magna  modis  tenuarc  J^arvis. 


matter  of  such  importance,  consider  ihest 
things,  I  pray,  seriously,  and  say  (o  your 
selves,  concerning  the  vanishing  shadows  of 
external  things.  How  long  will  these  enjoy- 
ments last?  O!  how  soon  will  they  pass! 
Even  while  I  am  sj)eakini;  these  words,  while 
I  am  tliinkinn:  of  them,  they  lly  ])ast  me.  Is 
any  one  o[)press('d  with  calaniilies?  Let 
them  say  cheerfully,  with  a  remarkably  good 
man,  "Lord,  while  I  am  here,  kill  me,  burn 
me,  only  spare  me  there."*  Is  there  any  one 
among  you  of  weak  capacity,  unhappy  in  ex- 
pressing himself,  of  au  'iiifavorable  aspect, 
or  deformed  in  body  ?  Let  him  say  with 
himself,"  It  is  a  matter  of  small  consequence  ; 
I  shall  soon  leave  this  habitation,  and,  if  I 
am  but  good  myself,  be  soon  removed  to  the 
mansions  of  the  blessed."  Let  these  thoughts 
prevent  his  being  dejected  in  mind,  or  over- 
come with  too  much  sorrow.  If  any  one  is 
distinguished  by  a  good  understanding,  or 
outward  beauty,  or  riches,  let  him  reflect, 
and  seriously  consider,  li  "w  soon  all  excel- 
lencies of  this  kind  will  pass  away,  that  he 
may  not  be  vain,  or  lifted  up  with  the  advan- 
tage of  fortune.  Let  it  be  ilie  chief  care  and 
stuSy  of  you  all  to  avoid  the  works  of  dark- 
ness, that  so  you  may  escape  utter  and  eter- 
nal darkness  :  and  to  embrace  with  open  and 
cheerful  hearts  that  Divine  light  which  hatii 
shone  from  heaven,  that,  when  you  are  di- 
vested of  these  bodies,  you  may  be  received 
into  the  glorious  mansions  of  that  blessecl 
and  perfect  light. 


LECTURE  XVin. 

THB  CHRISTIAN  RELIGION,  AND  THAT  IT  IS  THE 
TRUE  WAY  TO  HAPPINESS, 

I  CONFESS,  young  gentlemen,  that  whenev- 
er I  think  on  the  subject,  I  can  not  help  wc^- 
dering  at  the  indolence  and  madness  of  man- 
kind. F'or  though  we  boast  that  to  order  our 
affairs  wiih  prudence  and  discretion,  and  con- 
duct our  lives  according  to  the  principles  of 
reason,  is  the  great  privilege  and  ornament 
of  our  nature,  which  distinguishes  us  from 
the  brute  creatures;  how  few  are  there, 
who,  in  this  respect,  act  like  men,  who  pro- 
pose to  themselves  an  end,  and  direct  all 
their  actions  to  the  attainment  of  it  !  It  is 
very  certain  that  the  greatest  part  of  man- 
kind, with  a  folly  something  more  than  child- 
ish, go  in  quest  of  painted  butterflies,  or  com- 
monly pursue  the  birds  with  stones  and  clods. 
And  even  those  who  spin  out  their  lives  to 
the  utmost  extent  of  old  age.i'or  the  most  part 
gain  little  by  it,  but  only  this,  that  they  may 
be  called  tlarSes  TroXD;^"''''""'  very  aged  chil- 
dren ;  being  as  ignorant  as  infants  why  they 
came  into  the  world,  and  what  will  become 
of  them  when  they  leave  it.  Of  all  ques- 
tions, therefore,  none  can  be  more  properly 
}  Domine,  hie  ure,  ca  de,  modo  ibi  pa'cas. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  RELIGION. 


4 

691 


proposed  to  you,  who  are  just  upon  the  verge 
of  manhood.  I  mean  entering  upon  a  rational 
life,  than  this.  Whither  are  you  going  ? 
What  good  have  you  in  view  ?  To  what  end 
do  you  propose  to  live  ?  For  hence,  possi- 
bly, your  minds  may  be  excited  within  you 
10  an  earnest  desire  after  that  perfect  and  su- 
preme good  ;  and  you  may  not  content  your- 
selves with  cool  speculations  upon  this  sub- 
ject, as  if  it  were  a  logical  or  piiilosophical 
problem  that  falls  in  your  way  of  course,  but 
with  that  application  which  is  proper  in  a 
question  concerning  a  matter  of  the  greatest 
moment,  where  it  highly  concerns  us  to  be 
well  informed,  and  where  the  highest  re- 
wards and  greatest  dangers  are  proposed  to 
our  view.  And  in  this  hope,  I  have  often 
addressed  myself  to  you  upon  the  subject  of 
happiness,  or  the  supreme  good,  at  different 
periods  of  time  ;  entertaining  you,  in  the  in- 
tervals, with  essays  and  suitable  exhortations 
upon  other  subjects,  yet  so  as  lo  observe  a 
kind  of  method,  and  keep  up  a  connexion 
throughout  the  whole.  I  have  taken  notice 
of  the  name  and  general  notion  of  happi- 
ness, the  universal  desires  and  wishes  where- 
by men  are  excited  to  the  pursuit  of  it,  the 
no  less  universal  because  natural  ignorance 
of  mankind,  and  their  errors  and  mistakes  in 
ihe  search  of  it.  Whence  it  happens,  that, 
as  they  all  run  in  the  wrong  road,  the  faster 
they  advance,  the  farther  they  depart  from 
it  ;  and  like  those  who  ply  the  oars  in  a  boat, 
they  look  one  way  and  move  another.  And 
i.'iough  it  seemed  almost  unnecessary,  as  facts 
siiffi  icntly  demonstrate  the  truth  of  our  as- 
sertion, yet,  by  a  brief  recapitulation,  where- 
in we  took  notice  only  of  the  principal  heads 
and  classes  of  things,  we  proved  that  happi- 
ness is  by  no  means  to  he  found  in  this  earth, 
nor  in  any  earthly  enjoyments  whatsoever. 
And  this  is  no  more  than  all,  even  fools  as 
well  as  wise  men,  are  willing  to  own  :  they 
not  only  pronounce  one  another  unhajjpy,  but, 
with  regard  to  this  life,  all  of  them  in  jjen- 
eral,  and  every  one  for  himself  in  particular, 
acknowledge  that  they  are  so.  And,  in  this 
respect,  experience  fully  justify  their  relief; 
80  that,  if  there  were  no  further  prospect,  I 
am  apt  to  believe  all  mankind  would  agree 
in  that  common  saying,  that  "  if  mankind 
were  apprized  beforehand  of  the  nature  of 
this  life,  and  it  were  left  to  their  own  option, 
none  would  accept  of  it."*  As  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  has  a  near  connexion  with 
'his  subject,  and  is  a  natural  consequence 
from  it,  we  therefore,  in  the  next  place,  be- 
stowed some  time  in  illustrating  that  doc- 
trine. In  the  last  place,  we  advanced  some 
thoughts  upon  future  happiness  and  misery, 
so  far  as  is  consistent  with  the  weakness  of 
our  capacities  to  comprehend  things  so  little 
known,  and  to  express  such  as  are  in  a  great 
measure  ineffable. 
Having  treated  of  these  things  according  to 

•  Viiarn  hanc,  si  scientibus  da'etur,  neminem  ac- 
tepturum. — Sfneca. 


our  measure,  it  remains  that  we  now  inquire 
about  the  way  which  directly  leads  into  that 
happy  city,  or  to  that  happiness  which  is  re- 
served in  the  heavens.  This  is  a  great  and 
important  article,  comprehending  the  end  and 
design  of  our  life,  as  well  as  the  hopes  and 
comforts  of  it  ;  and  is  very  proper  to  be  first 
treated  of  in  a  catechetical,  or,  indeed,  any 
methodical  system  of  theology,  as  appears 
from  reason  and  precedents  :  for  by  this  dis- 
cussion we  are  inirfiediately  introduced  into 
the  whole  doctrine  of  true  religion.  Accord- 
ingly, the  first  question  in  the  generally-re- 
ceived catechism,  which  you  have  in  your 
hands,  is,  "  What  is  your  only  consolation  in 
life  and  death  ?"*  And  the  first  question  of 
another  catechism,  which  not  long  ago  was 
used,  particularly  in  this  university,  is,  "  What 
is  the  only  way  to  true  felicity  ?"t  For  the 
salvation  and  happiness  of  mankind,  in  subor- 
dination to  the  glory  of  God  (which  is,  to  be 
sure,  the  supreme  end  of  all),  is  the  peculiar 
and  genuine  scope  of  theology ;  and  from  it, 
the  definition  of  this  science  seems  to  be  most 
properly  drawn.  Nor  do  I  imagine  that  any 
one  is  so  weak  as  hence  to  conclude  that  it 
ought  to  be  called  anthropology,  rather  than 
theology  ;  for  though  it  not  only  treats  of  the 
happiness  of  mankind,  but  also  has  this  hap- 
piness, as  has  been  observed,  for  its  chief  end 
and  design  ;  yet,  with  good  reason,  and  on 
many  accounts,  it  has  obtained  this  more  sub- 
lime title.  It  has  God  for  its  author,  whom 
the  wisest  of  men  would  in  vain  attempt  to 
find  out,  but  from  the  revelation  he  has  made 
of  himself ;  every  such  attempt  being  as  vain 
as  it  would  be  to  look  for  the  sun,  in  the  night- 
time, by  the  light  of  a  candle  ;  for  the  former, 
like  the  latter,  can  only  be  seen  by  his  own 
light.  God  can  not  be  kn(jwn  but  so  far  as  he 
reveals  himself:  which  Sophocles  has  also 
admirably  well  expressed  :  "  You  will  never," 
says  he,  "  undorstand  those  divine  things 
which  the  gods  have  thought  proper  to  con- 
ceal, even  though  you  should  ransack  all  na- 
ture. "J 

Nor  has  this  sacred  science  God  for  its  au- 
thor only,  but  also  for  its  subject  and  its  ulti- 
mate end  ;  because  the  knowledge  of  him  and 
his  worship  comprehends  the  whole  of  reli- 
gion, the  beatific  vision  of  him  includes  in  it 
the  wholeof  our  ha[)piness,  and  that  haiipiness 
is  at  last  resolved  into  the  Divine  grace  and 
bounty. 

I  should  therefore  choose  to  give  this  brief 
and  clear  definition  of  theology,  viz. :  That  it 
is  a  divine  doctrine,  directing  man  to  real  fe- 
licity as  his  chief  end,  and  conducting  him  to 
it  by  the  way  of  true  religion.  I  call  it  a  doc- 
Irine,  because  it  is  not  considered  here  as  a 
habit  in  the  mind,  but  as  a  summary  of  celes- 
tial truth.  I  call  it  a  divine  doctrine,  for  all 
the  reasons  already  mentioned  ;  because,  for 

•  Qii!p  pst  unica  tua  ponsolatio  in  vita  et  in  morte  ? 
f  Quii'  est  iinica  ad  voram  li'JicilalPin  via  ? 
J  AXX'  ov  Xnp  dv  Ta  Ocia  KfjiirrroiTOf  Ocoii, 
MaOoK  (if,  aiS'  u  kuiit'  eire^iXOoK  aitoitoiy. 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


instance,  it  is  from  (rod,  he  is  the  subject  of 
It,  atid  it  all  tenwinates  in  him  at  last.  I  call 
it  a  (loclrine  diieciin^  man,  for  I  confine  my 
notion  of  it  to  that  doctrine  only  which  was 
sent  down  from  heaven  for  that  purpose. 
What  sia^nify,  then,  those  distinctions,  which 
are  nideed  sounding,  but  quite  tedious  and 
foreicfn  to  the  purpose,  that  divide  theology 
into  ai  chet  i/pal  and  ect  ypal,  and  again  into 
the  tiieology  of  the  church  militant,  and  that 
of  the  church  triumphant  ?  What  they  call 
archetypal  theolotiy  is  very  improperly  so 
named,  for  it  is  that  perfect  knowledge  {avru- 
iTo^ui)  which  God  has  ol'  himself  And  the  the- 
ology of  the  church  triumjihant  ought  rather 
to  be  called  ecoipin,  the  beatific  vision  of  God. 
The  theology  in  question  is  thai  day-sprijig 
from  on  high,  which  hath  visited  us,  to  give 
light  to  them  ivhich  sit  in  darkness,  and  in  the 
shadow  of  death,  to  guide  our  feet  m  the  way 
of  peace.  Luke  i.  78,  79.  That  peace  is  true 
happiness,  and  the  way  of  peace  is  true  reli- 
gion ;  concerning  which  I  shall  offer  a  few 
thoughts,  and  very  briefly.  First  of  all,  you 
are  to  observe  that  man  is  not  a  lawless  crea- 
ture, but  capable  of  a  law,  and  actually  sub- 
ject to  one.  This  expression  conveysno  liarsh, 
no  dishonorable  idea  :  nay,  this  subjection  is 
so  far  from  being  a  burden,  that  it  is  the  great- 
est honor.  To  be  capable  of  a  law,  is  the 
mark  and  ornament  of  an  intelligent,  rational 
soul,  and  that  which  distinguishes  it  from  the 
brutes  ;  it  evidently  supposes  a  resemblance 
to  God,  and  an  intercourse  with  heaven.  And 
,  to  live  actually  under  the  direction  of  religion 
and  the  law,  is  the  great  honor  and  ornament 
of  human  life,  and  that  distinguishes  ii  from 
the  irregular  conduct  of  the  brute  creation. 
For,  as  the  poet  expresses  it,  "  One  beast  de- 
vours another,  fishes  prey  upon  fishes,  and 
birds  upon  birds,  because  they  are  subject  to 
no  law  ;  but  mankind  lives  under  a  just  law, 
which  makes  their  condition  far  preferable."* 

The  brute  creatures  devour  one  another 
without  blame,  because  they  have  no  law; 
but,  as  Juvenal  observes,  "  Men  alone,  of  all 
eartlily  creatures,  as  they  derive  their  reason 
from  the  highest  heaven,  are  venerable  for 
their  understanding,  which  renders  them  ca- 
pable of  inquiring  into  Divine  things,  and 
qualifies  them  for  learning  arts,  and  reducing 
them  to  practice. "t 

And  hence  it  appears  that  we  were  born 
subjects  to  religion  and  an  eternal  law  of  na- 
ture :  for  since  our  blessed  Creator  has  thought 
proper  to  endow  us  with  a  mind  and  under- 
standing and  powers  sufficient  for  that  pur- 
pose, to  be  sure  we  are  bound  by  an  indispen- 
sable law  to  acknowledge  the  primary  and 

•  '\-)^Ovui  fitv  Koi  QripnX,  tctu  dicovoii  TrercrjvoTi 

\  Venorabilo  soli 

Sortiti  ingcnium  divinnniniquc  capaces, 
AtqiK!  excTcctidis,  capiondisque  artibus  apte 
Sensum  a  coelcsti  dcmissuin  traxiirius  arce. 

Juvenal,  Sat.  iv. 


eternal  Fountain  of  our  own  being  ar.d  of  all 
created  things,  to  love  him  above  all  othei 
objects,  and  obey  his  conmiands  without  re- 
serve or  exception.  So  that  in  this  very  law 
of  nature  is  founded  a  strong  obligation  upon 
us  to  give  due  obedience  to  every  Divine  pos- 
itive institution  which  he  shall  think  proper 
to  add  for  securing  the  purposes  of  religion 
and  e(|uity.  Wherefore,  when  our  first  pa- 
rents, by  eating  the  forbidden  fruit,  trans- 
gressed the  symbolical  command  intended  as 
a  proof  of  their  obedience,  by  that  very  act 
they  most  basely  broke  the  primary  and  great 
law  of  nature,  which  is  the  foundation  of  re- 
ligion, and  of  every  other  law  whatever. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  speak  here  of  our 
redemption  by  the  Messias,  the  only  begotten 
Son  of  God  the  Creator  :  it  is  suflicient  for  our 
present  purpose  to  observe,  that  our  great 
Redeemer  has  indeed  delivered  us  from  the 
chains  of  sin  and  death,  but  has  by  no  means 
dissolved  the  bonds  of  religion,  and  the  ever- 
lasting law  of  nature.  Nay,  these  are,  in 
many  respects,  strengthened  and  confirmed 
by  this  redemption  :  and  a  cheerful  submis- 
sion to  them  by  virtue  of  his  Spirit,  who  is 
poured  out  upon  us,  is  a  great  part  of  that 
royal  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God,  which  is  se- 
cured to  us  by  his  means,  as  by  imitating  his 
example,  we  arrive  at  the  full  possession  of 
it,  which  is  reserved  fjr  us  in  the  heavenly 
kingdom.  The  way,  therefore,  to  happiness, 
which  we  are  in  search  of,  is  true  religion, 
and  such,  in  a  very  remarkable  manner,  is 
that  of  Chrisiianiiy. 

On  the  truth  and  excellence  of  this  religion 
you  have  a  great  many  learned  writers,  both 
ancient  and  modern.  And  indeed,  it  is  ex- 
ceeding plain,  from  its  own  internal  evidence, 
that,  of  all  the  forms  of  religion  that  ever  the 
world  saw,  there  is  none  more  excellent  than 
that  of  Christianity,  which  we  profess,  where- 
in we  glory,  and  in  which  we  think  ourselves 
happy  amid  all  the  troubles  of  the  world  : 
there  is  none  that  is  more  certain  and  infalli- 
ble, with  regard  to  its  history  ;  more  sublime 
with  regard  to  its  mysteries ;  more  pure  and 
perfect  in  its  precepts,  or  more  venerable  for 
the  grave  simplicity  of  its  rites  and  worship; 
nay,  it  appears  evident  that  this  religion  alone 
is,  in  every  respect,  incomparably  preferable 
to  every  other.  It  remains,  young  gentlemen 
— What  do  you  think  I  am  going  to  say  ?  It 
remains,  that  we  become  true  Christians.  I  re- 
peat it  again,  if  we  will  be  happy,  let  us  be 
Christians.  You  will  say,  "  Your  wish  is  ea- 
sily satisfied  :  you  have  your  desire — we  are 
all  Christians  already."  I  wish  it  may  he  so  ! 
I  will  not,  however,  object  to  any  particular 
person  on  this  head.  But  every  one  of  you, 
by  a  short  trial,  wherein  he  will  be  both  wit- 
ness and  judge,  may  settle  this  important 
point  within  himself  We  are  all  Christians. 
Be  it  so.  But  are  we  poor  in  spirit  ?  Are 
we  humble,  meek,  and  pure  in  heart  ?  Do  we 
pray  without  ceasing?  Have  we  nailed  all 
our  carnal  appetites  and  desires  to  our  Sa. 


TIOLINESS  OF  LIFE  THE  ONLY  HAPPINESS. 


693 


vior's  cross,  living  no  longer  to  ourselves,  but 
to  him  that  diet,  for  us  }  This  is  the  true 
description  of  a  Chrfstian,  by  the  testimony 
of  that  gospel  which  we  acknowledge  to  be 
Christ's.  And  those  who  are  entire  stran- 
gers to  these  dispositions  of  mind,  know  not, 
to  be  sure,  the  way  oj  peace,  The^e  I  ear- 
nestly entreat  and  beseech  to  rouse  them- 
selves, and  shake  off  their  indolence  and 
sloth,  lest,  by  indulging  the  vile  desires  of 
the  flesh,  they  lose  their  souls  for  evet  But 
if  there  are  any  among  you,  and,  indeed,  I 
believe  there  are  some,  who  with  all  their 
hearts  aspire  to  these  Christian  virtues,  and 
by  their  means,  to  that  kingdom,  whicli  can 
never  be  shaken.  Be  strong  in  the  Lord,  have 
your  loins  ffirt  about  with  truth,  and  be  sober, 
and  hope  to  the  end.  You  will  never  repent 
of  this  holy  warfare,  where  the  battle  is  so 
short,  the  victory  so  certain,  and  your  tri- 
umphal crown,  and  the  peace  procured  by 
this  conflict,  will  last  for  ever. 


LECTURE  XIX. 

THAT    HOLINESS   IS   THE   ONLY    HAPPINESS  ON 
THIS  EARTH. 

The  journey  we  are  engaged  in  is  indeed 
great,  and  the  way  up  hill ;  but  the  glorious 
prize  which  is  set  before  us  is  also  great,  and 
ourgreataud  valiantCaptain,  whohaslongago 
ascended  up  on  high,  supplies  us  with  strength. 
If  our  courage  at  any  time  fails  us,  let  us  fix 
our  eyes  upon  him,  and,  according  to  the  ad- 
vice of  the  apostle,  in  iiis  divine  epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  (chap.  xii.  2),  Look  unto  Jesus,  re- 
moving our  eyes  from  all  inferior  objects,  that, 
being  carried  up  aloft,  they  may  be  fixed  upon 
him  ;  which  the  original  words  seem  to  im- 
port. Then,  being  supported  by  the  S()irit  of 
Christ,  we  shall  overcome  all  those  obstacles 
m  our  way,  that  seem  most  difficult  to  ourin- 
ioienl  and  efferainaie  flesh.  And  though  the 
way  from  the  earth  toward  heaven  is  by  no 
means  easy,  yet  even  the  very  difficulty  will 
give  us  pleasure,  when  our  hearts  are  thus 
eagerly  engaged  and  powerfully  support- 
ed. Even  difficuliics  and  hard^^hips  are  at- 
tended with  particular  pleasure,  when  they 
fall  in  the  way  of  a  courageous  mind  As  the 
poet  expresses  It,  "Serpents,  thirst,  and  burn- 
ing sand,  are  pleasing  to  virtue.  Patience  de- 
lights in  hardships;  and  honor,  when  it  is 
dearly  purchased,  is  possessed  with  the  great- 
er satisfaction."* 

If  what  we  are  told  concerning  that  glori- 
ous city,  obtain  credit  with  us,  we  shall 
cheerfully  travel  toward  it,  nor  shall  we  be 
at  all  deterred  by  the  difficulties  that  may  be 
in  the  way.    But,  however,  as  it  is  true,  and 

•   Serpons,  sitis,  ardor  aren<e 

Diilcia  virtiili.    fiaiiilct  paliontia  diiris: 

LiL'lius  est  quoties  magno  sibi  constat  honestum. 

LucAN,  lib.  ix.,  9. 


more  suitable  to  the  weakness  of  our  minds, 
which  are  rather  apt  to  be  affected  with 
things  present  and  near,  than  such  as  are  a 
a  great  distance,  we  ought  not  to  pass  over  in 
silence  that  the  way  to  the  happiness  reserv 
ed  in  heaven,  which  leads  through  this  earth, 
is  not  only  agreeable  because  of  the  blessed 
prospect  it  opens,  and  the  glorious  end  to 
which  it  conducts,  but  also  for  its  own  sake, 
and  on  account  of  the  innate  pleasure  to  be 
found  in  it,  far  preferable  to  any  other  way  of 
life  that  can  be  made  choice  of,  or  indeed  im- 
agined. Nay,  that  we  may  not,  by  low  ex- 
pressions, derogate  from  a  matter  so  grand 
and  so  conspicuous,  that  holiness  and  true  re- 
ligion which  leads  directly  to  the  highest  fe- 
licity, is  itself  the  only  happiness,  as  far  as  it 
can  be  enjoyed  on  this  earth.  Whatever  nat- 
urally tends  to  the  attainment  of  any  other 
advantage,  participates,  in  some  measure,  of 
the  nature  of  that  advantage.  Now  the  way 
to  perfect  felicity,  if  anything  can  be  so,  is  a 
means  that,  in  a  very  great  measure,  partici- 
pates of  the  nature  of  its  end  ;  nay,  it  is  the 
beginning  of  that  happiness:  it  is  also  to  be 
considered  as  a  part  of  it,  and  differs  from  it, 
in  its  complelesi  state,  not  so  much  in  kind  as 
in  degree.  So  that  in  Scripiure  it  has  the 
same  names:  as,  for  instance,  in  that  jiassage 
of  the  evangelist,  '/'his  is  life  eternal,  that 
they  mitrht  know  thee,  the  only  true  God. 
John  xvii.  3.  That  is,  not  only  the  way  to 
eternal  life,  but  also  the  beginning  and  first 
rudiments  of  it,  seeing  the  same  knowledge, 
when  completed,  or  the  full  beatific  vision  of 
God,  is  eternal  life  in  its  fulness  and  perfec- 
tion. Nor  does  the  divine  apostle  make  any 
distinciion  between  these  two  :  Now,  says  he, 
ire  see  darkly  throuu^h  a  glass  ;  but  then  we 
shall  see  openly,  or,  as  he  expresses  '\{,face  to 
face.  Now  J  know  in  part  ;  but  then  I  shall 
know  as  I  also  am  known.  I  Cor.  xiii.  12.  That 
celestial  life  is  called  an  inheritance  in  light. 
Col.  i.  12  ;  and  the  heirs  of  it,  even  while  they 
are  sojourning  in  this  earth,  children  of  the 
light,  1  Thess.  V.  5;  and,  expressly,  light  in 
the  Lord.  You  icere,  says  the  apostle,  some- 
time darkness,  but  now  are  ye  light  m  the 
Lord.  Eph.  V.  8.  They  will  be  there  perfect- 
ly holy,  and  without  spot ;  and  even  here  they 
are  called  hnjy,  and,  in  some  res{)ect,  they 
are  so.  Hence  it  is,  that  those  who  are  really 
and  truly  good  and  pious,  are,  in  Scripture, 
often  called  Messed,  though  they  are  not  fully 
and  perfectly  so.  Blessed  is  the  man  that  fear- 
cth  the  Lord.  Psalm  cxii.  1.  And  blessed  are. 
the  xindefiled  in  the  way.  Psalm  cxix.  1. 

Even  the  philosophers  give  their  testimony 
to  this  truth  :  and  their  sentiments,  on  this 
!  subject,  are  not  altogether  to  be  rejected  :  for 
they  almost  unanimously  are  agreed,  ihat  fe- 
licity, so  far  as  it  can  be  enjoyed  in  this  life, 
consists  solely,  or  at  least  principally,  in  vir- 
tue. But,  as  to  their  assertion,  that  this  vir- 
tue is  perfect  in  a  perfect  life,  it  is  rather  ex- 
pressing what  were  to  be  wished,  than  de- 
scribing things  as  they  are.     They  might 


694 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


nave  said  with  more  iruili  and  justioe,  tliat  it 
IS  iuiperfec't  in  an  iniptrl'eci  lile  :  whicli,  no 
doubt,  would  have  saiiblied  tlu  iu,  if  they  had 
known  that  it  was  to  be  made  jjerfeet  in  an- 
'jllier  place,  and  another  lile,  that  truly  de- 
berves  the  name,  and  will  be  complete  and 
periect.  In  this,  however,  we  heartily  agree 
with  ihem,  that  virtue,  or,  as  we  rather 
choose  to  express  it,  pieiy,  which  is  abso- 
lutely the  sum  and  substance  of  all  virtues 
and  all  wisdom,  is  the  only  happiness  of  this 
life,  so  far  as  it  is  capable  thereof. 

And  if  we  seriously  consider  ih's  subject 
but  a  little,  we  sliall  iind  the  saying  of  the 
wise  king  Solomon  concerning  this  wisdom, 
to  be  unexceptionably  true:  Hcnvuys  arc  ways 
of  pleasant ncss,  and  all  Iter  jialhs  are  peace. 

Doth  religion  require  anytlyng  of  us  more 
than  that  we  live  soberly,  righleousl y,  and 
godly,  in  this  present  world  ?  Now  what,  I 
pray,  can  be  more  pleasant  or  peaceable  than 
these  ?  Temperance  is  always  at  leisure, 
luxury  always  in  a  hurry  :  the  latter  weak- 
ens the  body  and  pollutes  the  soul ;  the  for- 
mer is  the  sanctity,  purity,  and  sound  state 
of  both.  It  is  one  of  Epicurus's  fixed  max- 
ims, that  "  life  can  never  be  pleasant  without 
virtue."*  Vices  seize  upon  men  with  the  vi- 
olence and  rage  of  furies ;  but  liie  Christian 
virtues  replenish  the  breast  which  they  in- 
habit, with  a  heavenly  peace  and  abundant 
joy,  and  thereby  render  it  like  that  of  an  an- 
gel. The  slaves  of  pleasure  and  carnal  af- 
fections, have  within  them,  even  now,  an 
earnest  of  future  torments  ;  so  that  in  this 
present  life,  we  may  truly  apply  to  them  that 
expression  in  the  Revelations,  They  that  wor- 
ship the  beast  have  no  rest  day  nor  niirht. 
"There  is  perpetual  peace  with  the  humble," 
says  the  most  devout  a  Kempis  ;  "  but  the 
proud  and  the  covetous  are  never  at  rest."t 

If  we  speak  of  charity,  which  »s  the  root 
and  spring  of  justice,  what  a  lasting  pleasure 
does  It  diffuse  through  the  soul!  "Envy," 
as  the  saying  is,  "  has  no  days  of  festivity 
it  enjoys  not  even  its  own  advantages,  while 
it  is  tormented  with  those  it  sees  in  the  pos- 
session of  others.  But  charity  is  happy,  not 
only  in  its  own  enjoyments,  but  also  in  those 
of  others,  even  as  if  they  were  its  own:  nay, 
it  is  then  must  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  its 
own  good  things,  when,  by  liberality,  it  makes 
them  the  property  of  others.  In  short,  it  is  a 
Godlike  virtue. ||  There  is  nothing  more  Di- 
vine in  man,  "  than  to  wish  well  to  man,  and 
tc  do  good  to  as  many  as  one  possibly  can."^ 
But  piety,  which  worships  God  in  constant 
prayer,  and  celebrates  him  wiih  the  highest 
praises,  raises  man  above  himself,  and  gives 
iiim  rank  among  the  angels.    And  contem- 

*  'Kvti  ipeTtjf  OVK  ttvai  fiieus  irju. 
t  jugis  pax  cuin  humili,  superbus  aiitem  et  avarus 
niinquam  quiescunt. 

J  Inviil  a  festos  dies  non  agit. 
|j  '\otrTj  Oco'ClKuXni* 

$  Oiriuibus  bene  velJe,  et  quam  pluriiiiis  possit  ben- 
efacere 


plation,  which  is  indeed  the  most  genuine  jiiu 
purest  ])leasure  of  the  human  soul,  and  the 
very  summit  of  lelicity,  is  nowhere  so  sub- 
lime and  enriched,  as  it  will  be  found  to  be 
in  true  religion,  where  it  may  expatiate  in  a 
system  of  Divine  truths  most  extensive,  clear, 
and  infallibly  certain,  mysteries  that  are  most 
profound,  and  hopes  that  are  the  most  exal'- 
ed  ;  and  he  that  can  render  these  subjects  la- 
miliar  to  his  mind,  even  on  this  earth,  enjoys 
a  lile  replete  with  heavenly  pleasure. 

I  rtiight  enlarge  greatly  on  this  subject, 
and  add  a  great  many  other  considerations  to 
those  I  have  already  offered  ;  but  I  shall  only 
further  observe,  that  that  sweet  virtue  of  con 
tentment,  so  effectual  for  quieting  the  mind, 
which  philosophy  sought  for  in  vain,  religion 
alone  has  found  :  and  also  discovered,  that  it 
takes  its  rise  from  a  lirm  confidence  in  the  al- 
mighty power  of  Divine  Providence.  For 
what  is  there  that  can  possibly  give  uneasi- 
ness to  him  who  commits  himself  entirely  to 
that  Paternal  Goodness  and  Wisdom,  which 
he  knows  to  be  infinite,  and  securely  devolves 
the  care  of  all  his  concerns  upon  it. 

If  any  of  you  object  (what  has  been  ob- 
served before),  that  we  often  see  good  men 
meet  with  severe  treatment,  and  also  read 
that  many  are  the  afflictions  of  the  just;  I 
answer,  do  you  noi  also  read  what  imme- 
diately follows?  But  the  Lord  delivereth  him 
out.  of  them  all.  Psalm  xxxiv.  19.  And  it 
would  be  madness  to  deny,  that  this  more 
than  compensates  the  other.  But  neither  are 
the  wicked  quite  exempted  from  the  misfor- 
tunes and  calamities  of  life;  and  v/hen  they 
fall  upon  them,  they  have  nothing  to  support 
them  under  such  pressures,  none  to  extricate 
or  deliver  them. 

But  a  true  Christian,  encouraged  by  a  good 
conscience,  and  depending  upon  the  Divine 
favor,  bears  with  patience  all  these  evils,  by 
the  efforts  of  generous  love  and  unshaken 
faith  :  they  all  seem  light  to  him  ;  he  despi- 
ses what  he  suffers,  while  he  waits  with  pa- 
tience for  the  object  of  his  hope.  And,  in- 
deed, what,  either  in  life  or  in  death,  can  he 
be  afraid  of,  whose  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in 
God;  and  of  whom  it  may  be  justly  said, 
without  exaggeration,  "If  the  world  should 
be  crushed  and  broken  to  pieces,  he  would  be 
undaunted,  even  while  the  ruins  fell  upon  his 
head 


LECTURE  XX. 

OUR  HAPPINESS,  PARTICULARLY  THAT  IT  LIE8 
IN  GOD,  WHO  ALONK  CAN  DIRECT  US  TO  THE 
TRUE  WAV  OF  ATTAINING  TO  IT  ;  THAT  THIS 
WAT  HE  HAS  DISCOVERED  IN  THE  SACRED 
SCRIPTUliES,  THE  DIVINE  AUTHORITY  WHERE- 
OF IS  ASSERTED  AND  ILLUSTRATED. 

These  two  expressions,  that  "  there  is  a  be- 
ginning, and  that  there  is  also  an  end,"t  con- 
*  Si  IVnctus  illab;\tur  orbis, 

Irnpavidiim  foricnt  niiiiEP. — Hor.  lib,  iii,,  Od  3. 
f  'Karif  Sfta  rii  dp^ij^  Kai  iurlw  apa  Tt  reXos. 


OUR  HAPPINESS  IN  GOD. 


695 


vey  matters  great  m  themselves,  and  which 
ought  to  be  considered  as  of  vast  importance 
to  us.  It  is  absolutely  necessary  iliai  there 
should  be  some  one  Principle  of  all  things  ; 
and  by  an  equal  degree  of  necessity,  this 
Principle  must  be,  of  all  others,  ihe  greatest 
and  the  best.  It  is  also  necessary  that  He 
who  save  being  to  all  things,  nmst  have  pro- 
posed to  himself  some  end  to  be  attained  by 
the  production  and  disposal  of  them  ;  but,  as 
the  end  of  the  Best  of  all  agents  must  itself 
also  be  the  highest  and  the  best,  this  end  can 
be  no  other  than  himself  And  the  reason- 
ings of  the  author  of  the  epistle  to  the  He- 
brews, concerning  the  oath  of  God,  may  also 
be  applied  to  this  case  :  As  he  had  no  great- 
er to  swear  by,  says  the  apostle,  he  swore  by 
HIMSELF.  In  like  tnanner,  as  he  had  no  greater 
or  better  end  to  propose,  he  proposed  himself. 
He  halh  m'ide  nil  ihings  for  himself,  says  the 
author  of  the  book  of  Proverbs,  even  the  wick- 
ed for  the  dnif  of  evil.  Prov.  xvi.  4.  And  the 
apostle  Paul,  in  his  epistle  to  the  Romans, 
gives  us  a  lively  description  of  that  incom- 
parable circle,  the  most  complete  of  all  fig- 
ures: Of  him,  and  through  him,  and  to  hirn, 
are  all  things,  to  whom  be  glory  for  ever. 
Amen.  Rom.  x.  36. 

Now  man,  the  ornament  and  masterpiece 
of  all  the  visible  creation,  by  extraordinary 
art,  and  in  a  method  peculiar  to  himself,  re- 
turns to  his  first  Original,  and  has  his  Crea- 
tor, not  only  for  the  principle  of  his  being, 
and  of  his  well-being,  but  also  for  his  end. 
Thus,  by  a  wonderful  instance  of  wisdom  and 
goodness,  (xod  has  so  connected  his  own  glo- 
ry with  our  hiippiness,  that  we  can  not  prop- 
erly intend  or  desire  the  one,  but  the  other 
must  follow  of  course,  and  our  felicity  is  at 
last  resolved  into  his  eternal  glory.  The  oth- 
er works  of  God  serve  to  promote  his  honor  ; 
but  man,  by  rational  knowledge  and  will,  of- 
fers himself,  and  all  that  he  has,  as  a  sacri- 
fice to  his  Creator.  From  his  knowledge  of 
him.  he  is  induced  to  love  him  ;  and  in  con- 
sequence of  bis  love,  he  attains  at  last  to  the 
enjoyment  of  him.  And  it  is  the  wisdom,  as 
well  as  the  happiness  of  man,  to  propose  lo 
himself,  as  the  scope  and  ultimate  en(l  of  his 
life,  that  very  thing  which  his  exalted  Crea- 
tor had  proposed  before. 

But,  that  we  may  proceed  gradually  in  our 
speculations  upon  this  subject,  we  must  first 
Conclude,  that  there  is  a  proper  end  intended 
for  man  :  that  this  end  is  suited  to  his  nature, 
and  perfectly  accommodated  to  all  his  wants 
and  desires  :  that  so  the  principal  part  of 
this  wonderful  fabric  may  not  be  quite  ir- 
regular, and  labor  under  a  manifest  imper- 
feriion. 

Nor  can  there  be  a  more  important  specu- 
lation, nor  one  more  worthy  of  man,  than  that 
which  concerns  his  own  end,  and  that  good 
which  i^  fully  and  perfectly  suited  to  his  cir- 
cumstances. Chance  of  fortune  must,  of  ne- 
cessity, have  a  great  influence  in  our  life, 
when  we  li  'e  at  random  :  we  must,  there- 


fore, if  we  be  wise,  or  rather  tl.  it  we  may  be 
wise,  propose  to  ourselves  an  end,  to  which 
all  our  actions  taught  to  have  a  reference,  and 
by  which,  as  a  certain  fixed  star,  we  are  to 
direct  our  course.  But  it  is  surprising  to  ob- 
serve, how  much  all  the  wisest  men  among 
the  heathens  were  perplexed  in  their  inqui- 
ries after  this  end,  and  into  how  many  differ- 
ent opinions  thev  were  divided  about  it.  Of 
this,  however,  we  have  spoken  at  greater 
lenffth  in  another -place. 

Now,  to  be  brief,  it  is  necessary,  that  this 
good,  or  end,  should  be  "  perfectly  suitable, 
not  easily  taken  away,  nay,  such  as  we  can 
by  no  means  be  deprived  of;  and  finally,  it 
must  consist  of  such  things  as  have  a  partic- 
ular relation  to  the  soul,  and  not  of  eternal 
enjoyments."*  Whence  "slavish  and  brutal 
pleasures,"!  vain  and  perishing  honors  and 
riches,  which  only  ^^:•rve  to  support  and  pro- 
mote the  former,  are  in  this  inquiry,  justly, 
and  without  the  least  hesitation,  hissed  ofT 
the  stage  by  all  sound  philosophers;  who  with 
great  unanimity  acknowledge,  that  our  feli- 
city consists  solely,  or  at  least  principally,  in 
virtue.  But  your  favorite  philosopher,  Aris- 
totle, and  the  peripatetics  who  are  his  follow- 
ers, seem  to  doubt  whether  virtue  alone  be 
suflRcient  for  this  purpose,  and  not  to  be  very 
consistent  with  themselves.  The  stoics,  who 
proceeded  with  greater  courage,  and  acted 
more  Mke  men,  aflTirmed,  that  virtue  was  fully 
sufficient  for  this  purpose,  without  the  helps 
and  supplements  re<iuired  by  the  former.  And 
that,  while  they  bestowed  such  liigh  praises 
on  virtue,  they  might  not  seem  to  have  quite 
forgotten  God,  they  not  only  said,  that  virtue 
was  soiiiclhing  Divine,  in  which  they  were 
joined  by  Aristotle,  but  also  concluded,  that 
their  wise  man  did  all  things  "with  a  direct 
reference  to  God. "J  It  was  also  a  general 
maxim  with  the  folhjwers  of  Plato,  that  "the 
end  of  man  is,  to  be,  as  far  as  is  possible, 
made  like  unto  God."||  And  Plato  himself, 
in  his  sec(jnd  book  of  laws,  and  in  his  Plia;do, 
asserts,  that  man's  chief  good  is  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  truth  :  yet,  as  this  knowledge  is 
not  perfect  in  the  present  life,  he  is  of  opin- 
ion, that  it  can  scarcely  be  said  of  any  man, 
that  he  is  happy  here  below  ;  but  there  i.s 
ho[)e  to  be  entertained  concerning  the  dead, 
provided  they  are  purified  before  they  leave 
the  world.  But  there  are  two  things  particu- 
larly, with  regard  to  this  question,  which  our 
reliirion  and  most  precious  faith  teaches  with 
incomparably  greater  fulness  and  evidence, 
than  all  the  schools  and  books  of  the  philoso- 
phers. 

1.  That  our  felicity  is  not  to  terminate  in 
ourselves,  but  in  God.  Blessed  is  the  man 
that  feareth  the  Lord ;  and,  The  pure  in 
heart  shall  see  God.  Psalm  cxii.  1  ;  Matt.  v.  8. 

f  Tc'\ctov,  Kat  dvrapKii,  icai  ivaa<patpcroi'y  imo  dra- 
fpatncrnif,  Kai  tuv  Tttpt  ^v\T)i,  Kdi  oii  Tow  f<roj« 
t  'Af.'iiartudoihtf  <fui  Oriono^cis  riiovai, 

I  Mcr'  dvafopaq  it^  tqv  Gcoi/, 

II  Ti\:js  auOpujirav  o^oiuyuii  Gcclj  Kara  to  6vvaTov» 


696 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


'  To  seek  God,"  says  St.  Au£;ustiiie,  "  is  to 
desiri'  liapjiiiifs.s  ;  and  to  find  liiin  is  that  liap- 
piness."*  i 

2.  That  our  happiness  is  not  confined  wiliiin  ' 
tlie  limits  of  this  short  life,  nor  does  it  end  ' 
witii  it  :  on  the  contrary,  it  is  scarce  begun 
ill  tliis  world,  hut  when  the  present  life  comes 
to  a  |)eriud,  then  this  happiness  is  completed 
and  becomes  eternal.  ( )ur  life  on  this  earth, 
tiierefore,  is  only  so  far  happy  as  it  has  a  re- 
semblance to  that  we  shall  enjoy  in  heaven, 
and  becomes,  as  it  were,  an  earnest  of  it : 
that  is,  when  it  is  employed  in  pure  and  sin- 
cere piety,  in  obedience  to  the  will  of  God, 
and  an  ambition  to  promote  his  glory,  till  we 
ar 'ive  at  that  hai)py  slate,  where  our  hunger 
and  thirst  shall  be  abundantly  satisfied,  and 
yet  our  appeiites  never  cloved.         ,  j 

For  it  is  evident,  that  man,  in  this  life,  We- 1 
ccines  so  much  the  more  perfect  and  happy, 
in  proportion  as  he  has  his  mind  and  alfeciions 
more  thoroughly  conformed  to  the  pattern  of 
that  most  blessed  and  perfect  life.  And  this 
is,  indeed,  the  great  ambition  of  a  true  Chris- 
tian ;  tliis  is  his  study,  which  he  ceases  noi 
to  pursue  with  ardor  day  and  night:  nor  does 
he  let  so  much  as  one  day  pass  without  copy- 
ing some  lines  of  that  perfect  pattern.  And 
the  more  he  advances  in  purity  of  inind,  the 
greater  progress  he  makes  in  the  knowledge 
nnd  coniemjilation  of  Divine  things. 

Bui  who  will  instruct  us  with  regard  to  the 
means  of  reaching  this  blessed  mark  ?  Who 
will  show  us  how  we  may  attain  this  con- 
formity to  God,  and  most  effectually  promote 
liishonorandgloiy,so  thatat  last  uemaj'  come 
to  the  enjoyment  of  him  in  that  endless  life, 
and  be  lor  ever  satisfied  with  the  beatific  vis- 
ion of  him?  What  faithful  guide  shall  we 
find  to  direct  us  in  this  way  ?  Surely  he  him- 
self must  be  our  leader:  there  is  no  other 
besides  him  who  can  answer  our  purpose.  It 
is  he  alone  that  acquaints  us  with  his  own 
nature,  as  far  as  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  know 
it ;  and  he  alone  that  directs  us  to  the  way  j 
w/ierein  he  chooses  to  be  worshipped.  "God 
can  not  be  known  but  by  his  own  revelation  of  ' 
hiinself/'t  When  he  is  pleased  to  wraj)  him- 1 
self  up  in  a  cloud,  neither  man  in  his  original 
integrity,  nay,  nor  even  the  angels,  can  know  j 
or  fnvestigate  his  nature  or  his  intentions. 
We  are  indeed  acquainted  in  the  sacred  rec- 
ords, Tliat  the  heavens  dec/i/re  the  f^i^ry  of 
God  (Psalm  xix.  1):  and  this,  to  be  sure,  is 
very  true  in  certain  respects  ;  but  they  do  by 
no  means  declare  the  hidden  mysteries  of  the 
Creator,  nor  his  intentions,  and  the  manner 
of  that  worship  and  service  he  requires  from 
his  reasonable  creatures.  And  therefore  the 
psalmist,  having  begun  the  psalin  with  the 
voice  and  declaration  of  the  heavens,  imme- 
diatelv  after  mentions  another  light  much 
clearer  than  the  sun  himself,  and  a  volume  or 


•  Secutio  Dei  appctitu?  beatitatis,  consecutie  beat- 
it  as. 

t  Non  [lOtest  Deus,  nisi  de  Deo,  inlelligi. 


book  more  perfect  than  the  language  of  a. 
the  spheres.  Nothing  is  more  certain  than 
that  the  doctrine  which  leads  us  to  God,  must 
take  its  rise  from  him  :  I'or,  by  no  art  what- 
ever can  the  waters  be  made  to  rise  higher 
than  their  fountain.  It  was  therefore  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  ihe  juirpose  1  have  men- 
lioned,  that  some  revelation  concerning  God 
should  be  made  to  mankind  by  himsell  :  and, 
accordingly,  hedid  reveal  himself  tothem  from 
the  heginiiinff.  And  these  revelations,  the 
father  of  lies  mimicked  by  those  delusions  of 
his,  that  were  (lublished  by  the  heathen  ora- 
cles. The  Divine  wisdom,  in  revealing  him- 
self to  mankind,  has  thought  proper,  at  differ- 
ent periods  of  time,  to  make  use  of  dilTerent 
methods  and  ways,  or,  according  to  that  of 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  at  sundry  times, 
and  in  divers  manners  ;  but  at  last  it  seemed 
good  to  him,  that  this  sacred  doctrine  should 
be  committed  to  writing,  that  wiih  the  greater 
ceriainty  and  purity  it  might  be  banded  down 
to  succeeding  ages.  If  we  consider  his  abso- 
lute power,  it  would  certainly  have  been  as 
easy  for  him  to  have  j)reserved  this  doctrine 
pure  and  entire,  without  committing  it  to 
writing  ;  but,  for  the  most  part,  he  has  been 
pleased  to  make  use  of  means  naturally  suited 
and  adapted  to  his  purpose,  and  disposes  all 
things  so  as  effectually  to  secure  his  ends, 
yet,  in  an  easy  natural  manner,  suited  to  our 
capacities  and  conceptions  of  things. 

If  any  one  would  prove,  that  these  books, 
which  we  receive  as  such,  are  in  fact  the 
repositories  of  this  sacred  and  celestial  doc- 
trine, the  most  proper  method  he  could  take, 
would  be  first  to  show  that  the  sacred  history 
and  doctrines  contained  in  them,  are  true; 
and  then  from  their  own  testimony  to  conclude 
them  Divine. 

For,  the  truth  of  our  religion  being  once 
well  establislied,  it  is,  to  be  sure,  a  most  just 
postulatum,  and  such  as  ought  not  to  be  denied 
to  any  sect  of  men,  that  in  this  instance,  the 
testimony  of  the  Christian  church  should  be 
believed,  when  it  points  out  the  books  where- 
in the  sum  and  substance  of  that  religion  are 
originally  and  authentically  deposited. 

The  truth  of  the  sacred  history  being  once 
granted,  the  Divinity  of  the  doctrine  will  na- 
turally follow  of  course,  as  the  history  men- 
tions so  many  and  so  great  miracles  that  were 
wrought  in  confirmation  of  ihe  doctrine:  those 
particularly  that  were  performed  in  priof  of 
the  Old  'I'estatnent  by  Moses,  the  servant  of 
God,  by  whose  ministry  the  law  was  given  to 
the  Jews;  and  those  that  were  wrought  in 
confirmation  of  the  New,  by  Jesus  Christ,  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  God,  and  author  of  the 
Evangelic  Law  ;  as,  also,  those  that  were 
wrought  by  his  servants  the  apostles,  and 
other  Christians.  And  absolutely  to  deny  the 
force  of  all  these,  would  be  an  instance  of 
impudence  and  obstinacy  so  great,  that  the 
keenest  enemies  of  the  Christian  name  of  old, 
did  not  venture  upon  it.  But  the  Scriptures 
have  two  great  evidences  of  their  Divinity, — 


OUR  HAPPINESS  IN  GOD. 


697 


1  leir  own  internal  character,  and  that  external 
lestimony. 

There  are  two  things  which  principally 
prove  their  external  character.  1.  The  in- 
comparable sublimity  and  purity  of  the  doc- 
trine they  contain  :  for  in  vain  will  you  look 
lor  such  profound  mysteries,  and  such  pure 
and  holy  precepts,  anywhere  else.  2.  The 
inimitable  and  evidently  Divine  majesty  of 
the  style,  attended,  at  the  same  time,  with  a 
surprising  and  wonderful  simplicity.  Their 
voice  is  not  the  voice  of  man  ;  but  the  whole 
of  them,  notwitiistanding  their  great  extent, 
sounds  something  more  grand  than  can  be  ex- 
pected from  the  mouths  of  mortal  men.  Nor 
ought  we  to  pass  over  that  Divine  efficacy 
which  the  Scriptures  have  not  only  to  move 
the  minds  of  men,  but  also,  by  a  Divine  oper- 
ation,* to  change  them  into  something  quite 
different  from  what  they  were  before:  accord- 
ing to  that  of  Lactantius,  "  Give  me  a  fierce, 
cruel,  and  passionate  man,  with  a  few  of  the 
words  of  God  I  will  make  him  as  meek  as  a 
lamb,"  &c.t  And  the  external  tes/imony 
already  mentioned,  has,  to  be  sure,  as  much 
weight  as  anything  of  that  kind  can  possibly 
have.  Who  W(juld  deny  to  the  regular  suc- 
cession of  the  catholic  church,  the  credit  of 
a  witness?  Who,  on  the  other  hand,  would 
claim  the  authority  of  a  judge  and  arbitrator  ? 
It  would  be  quite  silly  to  ascribe  to  the  church 
a  decisive  power  ;  as  if,  when  a  book  were 
first  presented  to  il,  or  brought  out  of  any 
place  where  it  had  been  long  concealed,  it 
could  immediately  pronounce  whether  that 
book  was  of  Divine  authority  or  not.  The 
church  is  only  a  witness  with  regard  to  those 
books  we  acknowledge  ;  and  its  testimony 
extends  no  further  than  this,  that  they  were 
received  in  the  first  ages  of  Christianity,  as 
sacred  and  Divinely  inspired,  and,  as  such, 
handed  a^wn  from  age  to  age,  to  the  church 
that  now  is.  And  he  that  would  venture  to 
discredit  this  lestimony,  must  have  a  heart 
of  lead  and  a  face  of  brass. 

There  is  no  occasion  to  dispute  so  fiercely 
ahout  the  inward  testimony  of  the  Holy  Ghost: 
fori  am  persuaded  that  those  who  talk  about 
it,  understand  nothing  more  by  il,  than  that 
the  Holy  S[»irit  produces  in  the  hearts  of  men 
that  faith  whereby  ihey  cheerfully  and  sin- 
cerely receive  these  books,  and  the  doctrine 
contained  in  them,  as  Divine:  because  such  a  ! 
faith  either  includes,  in  the  very  notion  of  it, 
or  at  least  is  necessarily  connected  with,  a  re- 
ligious  frame  of  mind,  and  a  sincere  disposi- 
tion to  universal  obedience.  And  he  that  he- 
lievelh,  as  the  Apostle  John  expresseth  it,  has 
this  trstimofi)/  in  htniself,  though  he  can  not 
convey,  or  transfer  it  to  others,  1  John  v.  10. 
Now,  to  assert  the  necessity  of  such  an  inter- 
nal testimony,  is  nothing  more  than  to  say, 
that  whatever  evidence  the  Scripture  may 
have  it  itself,  or  from  other  considerations', 
yet,  the  Divine  faith  of  this  truth  must  be  from 

*  ^)r.inftyi7i  fliTHllOthjit'o'nu  j 

f  i)a  mm.  f  riiiii,  Sic,  ut  supra. 
8b 


above.    And  he  that  would  deny  this,  would 
thereby  plainly  discover  that  he  was  an  en- 
tire stranger  to  that  I'aith  itself.  "  The  Scrip 
ture,"  says  Thomas  a  Kempis,  "  must  surely 
'  be  believed  and  understood,  by  means  of  the 
'  same  Spirit  by  whom  it  was  at  first  deliver- 
5  ed."*    And,  as  St.  Augustine  expresses  it, 
!  "  the  only  effectual  teacher  is  he  who  has 
j  his  chair  in  heaven,  and  yet,  instructs  the 
hearts  of  men  on  this  earth. "t     The  same 
Divine  Spirit  plants  faith  in  the  mind,  together 
with  the  proper  intelligence  of  Divine  things, 
and  daily  augments  and  improves  these  dis- 
positions.   This  great  gift  of  the  Spirit  is, 
therefore,  to  be  sought  by  ferventand  constant 
prayer  ;  and  the  Son  of  God,  who  is  truth 
,  itself,  has  assured  us,  that  his  most  bountiful 
'  Father  will  give  it  to  those  that  ask  him. 
j  Aristotle  has  told  us,  that  "  Divine  inspira- 
I  tion  is  to  be  sought  by  sacrifices. And  it 
j  is  no  less  true,  that  "  the  faith  and  understand- 
ing of  things  revealed  by  Divme  inspiration, 
are  to  be  sought  by  prayer. "i|    Varro  tells  'js, 
that  he  wrote  first  of  human,  and  then  of 
Divine  institutions,  because  societies  of  men 
existed  first,  and  the  latter  were  instituted  by 
them.    True  religion,  on  the  contrary,  instead 
of  being  instituted  by  any  city  or  society  on 
earth,  hath  instituted  a  city  altogether  heav- 
enly and  Divine,  and  is  itself  inspired  by  God, 
who  is  the  giver  of  eternal  life,  to  all  that 
worship  him  in  sincerity.'^) 

It  is  truly  sur|)rising  to  observe  how  diffcr- 
'ently  this  religion  was  of  old  received  among 
men, and  what  dilferent  enteriainment  it  meets 
j  with  even  to  this  day,  though  the  doctrine  has 
I  been  always  the  same,  though  it  is  still  en- 
forced by  the  same  arguments,  and  has  the 
same  difficulties  and  prejudices  to  struggle 
with.  When  the  divine  apostle  preached  in 
the  Areopages  at  Athens,  a  great  many  mock- 
ed and  ridiculed  him  :  others  said.  We  will 
hear  thee  a!j;ain  of  this  matter:  but  certain 
men  clave  unto  him,  and  believed.  Acts  xvii. 
32,  34.  And  that  we  may  not  think  this 
faiih,  in  those  who  believed,  was  owing  to 
their  uncommon  penetration  or  sagacity  on 
the  one  hand,  or  to  their  weakness  and  sim- 
plicity on  the  other,  of  the  two  mentioned  in 
Scripture,  who  believed  on  this  occasion,  the 
one  was  a  philoso|)lier,  and  the  other  a  wo- 
man. Now,  though,  without  doubt,  human 
liberty  is  to  be  allowed  its  due  weight  in  this 
matter,  yet,  we  can  not  help  acknowledging, 
that  a  certain  influence  or  enen^ij^  seems  to 
discover  itself  here. 

The  basis  of  religion  is  faith, — ^just  appre- 
hension or  right  notions**  of  God,  according 
to  Epictetus.    St  Ignatius  says,  "  Faith  is  the 
*Eodom  certo  spiritii  ot  crcdonda  et  intelligcnda 
sacra  strij)tiir;i,  quo  tradita  est. 

t  Qui  cathcdnun  lialx't  in  cnelo,  corde  docet  in  terris. 
t  Td  &c67tvcviJTOii  Tali  Ovaiais  ^rimrcov. 
II   ri)p  rail/  QtmiiciaTijjv  nianv  Ka\  aiuetut  ei^ai(  {vT9> 
Ttuv. 

§  8t.  Aug.  dn  Civ.  Doi,  lib.  vi.,  c.  3. 
1[  GcTui/  Titia  jioi(iiiii  vel  iutpyciav. 


698 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


beixiniiinET  of"  life,  and  love  the  end  of  it."* 
And  the  words  of  the  apostle  are,  He  that, 
comtl/i  to  God,  must  btlii.ve  that  he  is,  and 
t/iat  he  is  a  reuardcr  of  them  that  diligently 
seek  him.  So  that  the  ffivinsi;  of  a  law  to  man, 
and  the  enforcinsi:  it  with  the  motives  of  re- 
wards and  punislitnents,  is  not  inconsistent 
with  the  lilial  and  disinterested  obedience  of 
a  rational  creature,  even  in  a  state  of  inno- 
cence. 

All  true  and  lively  faith  begets  love  :  and 
thus,  that  heavenly  light  is  the  vehicle  of  heat. 
And  as,  by  this  means,  true  faith  has  a  ten- 
dency to  the  praciice  of  obedience,  so,  all  true 
obedience  depends  upon  faith,  and  flows  from 
it.  But  it  also  proceeds  from  love,  because 
faith  first  produces  love,  and  then  works  by 
it.  All  knowledge  of  mysteries  is  vain  and 
of  no  value,  unless  it  have  an  influence  upon 
the  affections,  and  thereby,  upon  the  whole 
Conduct  of  life.  Tiie  lutninaries  of  heaven 
are  placed  on  high  ;  but  they  are  so  placed, 
thatthey  may  shine,  andperform  their  periods, 
for  the  benetit  of  this  earth.    Gen.  i.  17. 

We  must  first  believe,  that  God  is.  This 
truth  is  written  in  capital  letters  on  every 
page  of  the  sacred  books  of  Scripture  ;  for  all 
things  that  are  therein  delivered  by  God,  and 
concerning  hitn,  confirm  this,  and  take  it  for 
a  primary  and  undoubted  principle.  But 
these  sacred  books  acknowledge  another  uni- 
versal evidence  of  this  leading  truth,  and  an 
evidence  quite  distinct  from  theirs,  to  which 
they  refer  ail,  even  the  most  obstinate  unbe- 
lievers and  those  that  are  entirely  ignorant 
of  this  celestial  doctrine,  for  full  conviction. 
Rom.  i.  20.  As  it  is  quite  plain,  that  the  tes- 
timony of  the  written  word  will  have  little 
or  no  influence  upon  men  who  have  not  re- 
ceived the  least  tincture  of  Divine  faith, 
should  any  person,  disputing  with  then,  rea- 
son after  this  manner — There  is  a  God,  be- 
cause this  is  asserted  in  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures, and  their  testimony  must  by  all  means 
be  believed,  because  they  are  the  \\cv.\  of 
God  ; — an  argument  of  this  kind,  to  be  sure, 
would  have  no  other  effect  than  to  expose  the 
persoi\  who  urged  it,  to  the  ridicule  of  athe- 
ists and  unbelievers  ;  because  it  evidently 
begs  the  question,  and  runs  into  a  vicious  cir- 
cle. He,  therefore,  who  would  bring  over 
such  persons  to  the  faith,  must  reason  after 
a  quite  different  maimer.  But  let  him,  on 
the  other  hand,  who  once  accepts  these 
books  with  the  submission  due  to  their  real 
dignity  and  Divine  authenticity,  receive  light 
and  edification  from  them  on  every  article  of 
faith,  and  with  regard  to  the  whole  system 
of  religion  in  general.  Let  him,  also,  in 
congratulation  to  their  exalted  Author,  cry 
out,  With  ihee,  O  Lord,  is  the  fountain  of 
life  :  and  in  thy  light  we  shall  see  light.  Psa. 
xxvi.  9.  And  let  him  that  desires  to  be,  not 
only  a  nominal  proficient  in  theology,  but 
ftU.Dcoi  Koi  OcolioaKTof — a  real  lover  of  God,  and 
willing  to  be  taught  by  him,  resolve  within 

*  Apx'l  irioTis,  riXos  ic  nyawfj. 


himself,  above  all  things,  to  make  this  sacred 
volume  his  constant  study,  mixing  his  read- 
ing with  frequent  and  fervent  prayer:  for  if 
this  be  omitted,  his  labor  will  be  altogethe 
in  vain,  supposing  him  to  be  ever  so  well 
versed,  not  only  in  these  books,  but  also  tn 
have  all  the  advantages  that  can  be  had  from 
the  knowledge  of  languages,  and  the  assist- 
ance of  comnien'ators  and  interpreters.  Dif- 
ferent men  have  different  views  in  reading 
this  book.  As,  in  the  same  field,  the  ox  looks 
for  grass,  the  hound  for  a  hare,  and  the  stork 
for  a  lizard,  some  fond  of  critical  remarks, 
pick  up  nothing  but  little  stones  and  shells  ; 
others  run  in  pursuit  of  sublime  mysteries, 
giving  themselves  but  very  little  trouble 
about  the  precepts  and  instructions  that  are 
clear  and  evident,  and  these  plunge  them- 
selves into  a  pit  that  has  no  bottom.  But  the 
genuine  disciples  of  this  true  wisdom,  are 
those  who  make  it  their  daily  em[)loyment, 
to  purify  their  hearts  by  the  water  of  those 
fountains,  and  reduce  their  whole  lives  to  a 
conformity  wiih  this  heavenly  doctrine.  They 
desire  not  to  know  these  things,  only  that 
they  may  have  the  reputation  of  knowledge, 
or  to  be  distinguished  in  the  world  ;  but  that 
their  souls  may  be  healed,  and  their  steps  di- 
rected, so  that  they  may  be  led  through  the 
paths  of  righteousness,  to  the  glorious  feli- 
city which  is  set  before  them. 

The  sum  of  all  is,  that  our  felicity  lies 
solely  and  entirely  in  that  blessed  God,  who 
is  also  the  fountain  and  source  of  our  being ; 
that  the  only  means  of  our  union  with  him, 
l  is  true  religion;  and  this,  again,  consists  in 
our  entertaining  just  notions  of  God,  worship- 
ping him  acceptably,  and  endeavoring  after 
a  constant  and  unwearied  obedience  to  all  his 
commands,  according  to  that  most  pure  and 
perfect  rule  laid  down  in  those  Divine  books 
which  we  profess  to  receive  as  such.  Let 
us,  therefore,  have  constantly  fixed  in  our 
minds  these  words  of  the  psalmist.  Blessed 
are  the  undefled  in  the  icay,  that  walk  in  the 
way  of  the  Lord.  Thou  hast  commanded  us 
to  keep  thy  precepts  diligently.  O  !  that  my 
ivays  ivere  directed  to  keep  thy  statutes.  Ps. 
cxix.  1-4,  5. 


LECTURE  XXL 

THE  DIVINE  ATTRIBUTES. 

Of  all  the  maxims  that  are  naturally  writ- 
ten on  the  heart  of  man,  there  is  none  more 
certain  or  more  universally  known,  than 
THAT  God  is:  concerning  which  I  have  giv- 
en a  dissertation  some  time  ago.  But  of  all 
the  secrets  and  hidden  things  of  nature, 
which  have  been  the  subject  of  human  study 
and  inquiry,  there  is  nothing,  by  a  prodigious 
odds,  so  difficult  or  unsearchable,  as  to  know 
WHAT  HE  IS.  The  saying  of  St.  Augustine 
concerning  time  is  well  known  in  the  schcjols; 


THE  DIVINE  ATTRIBUTES. 


699 


With  how  much  greater  truth  might  it  be 
said  of  Him,  wiio  is  more  ancient  than  time, 
and  "  wlio  bade  time  flow  from  the  begin- 
ning,"* That  he  lialh  made  darkness  his  hi- 
di.na'-place,  and  ainidsi  thai  darkness  dwells  in 
light  inaccesMble.  Psalm  xviii.  11.  Wliich, 
to  our  eyes,  is  to  be  sure  more  dark  than 
darliness  iiself!  "0  the  Divine  dariiness  !" 
says  a  great  man  :t  and  another,  most 
acutely,  "'If  you  divide  or  cut  asunder  this 
darkness,  who  will  shine  forth  ?"t  When, 
therefore,  we  are  to  speak  of  him,  let  us  al- 
ways call-  10  remembrance  the  admonition 
wiiicli  bids  us  speak  with  reverence  and  fear. 
For  what  can  we  say  that  is  worthy  of  him, 
since  man,  when  he  speaks  of  God,  is  but  a 
blind  person  describing  light  ?  Yet,  blind  as 
we  are,  there  is  one  thing  we  may,  with 
great  truth,  say  of  that  glorious  light,  and 
let  us  frequently  repeat  it :  0  when  will  that 
blessed  day  shine  forth,  wiiich  shall  deliver 
the  soul  from  those  thick  integuments  of 
flesh,  that  like  scales  on  the  eye,  obstruct  ils 
sight,  and  sball  introduce  it  into  a  more  full 
and  open  view  of  tliat  primitive,  and  eternal 
Light  I  Perhaps,  the  properest  answer  we 
could  give  to  the  question.  What  is  God  ? 
would  be  to  observe  a  most  profound  silence  ; 
or,  if  we  should  think  proper  to  give  any  an- 
swer it  ought  to  be  soinetliing  next  lo  tiiis 
absolute  silence:  viz.  God  is  ;  which  gives 
us  a  higher  and  better  idea  of  him,  than  any 
thinu  we  can  either  express  or  conceive. 

Theological  writers  mention  three  meth- 
ods whereby  men  come  to  some  kind  of 
knowledge  of  God  themselves,  and  commu- 
nicate tliat  knowledge  to  others,  viz.,  the  way 
of  negation,  the  way  of  causation,  and  the 
way  of  eminence.  Yet  the  very  terms  that 
are  used  to  express  these  ways,  show  what 
a  faint  knowledge  of  the  invisible  Being  is 
to  be  attained  by  them;  so  ihat  the  last  two 
may  be  justly  reduced  to  the  first,  and  all  our 
knowledge  of  this  kind  called  negative.  For, 
to  pretend  to  give  any  explanation  of  the  Di- 
vine es.ience  as  distinct  from  what  we  call 
his  attributes,  would  be  a  refinement  so  ab- 
surd, that  under  the  appearance  of  more  ac- 
curate kii(;wledge,  it  would  lieiray  our  igno- 
rance the  more.  And  so  unaccouiitaide  would 
it  be  to  attempt  any  such  ibin^,  with  regard 
lo  the  unsearchable  majesty  of  (jod,thai  pos- 
sibly the  most  towering  and  exalted  genius 
on  earth  ought  frankly  to  acknowledge,  that 
we  know  neither  our  own  essence,  nor  that  j 
of  any  other  creature,  even  the  meanest  and  { 
most  contemptible.  Though,  in  the  schools, 
they  distniguisb  the  Divine  attributes  or  ex- 
cellencies, and  that  by  no  means  improperly, 
mto  comnmnicable  and  incommunicable  ;  yet  \ 
we  ouglit  so  lo  truard  this  distinction,  as  al-  : 
ways  to  remember  that  those  which  are  called 
communicable,  when  applied  to  God,  are  not 

•  Qui  tenipuK  ab  scvo 

Ire  jiibct.    HoKTii.  Cons.  Phil.,  lib.  iii.,  met.  9. 

f        :    Qtlov  tTMSr'/i. 

J  'Av  Td  ff/tdrof  rc/i»j,  6  rij  anaaT-pizTtTai. 


only  to  be  understood  in  a  manner  incommuni- 
cable and  quite  peculiar  to  himself,  but  also, 
that  in  him  they  are,  in  reality,  inhnitely  dif- 
ferent from  those  virtues,  or  rather,  in  a  mat- 
ter where  the  disparity  of  the  subjects  is  so 
very  great,  those  shadows  of  virtues  that  go 
under  the  same  name  either  in  men  or  an- 
gels. For  it  is  not  only  true,  that  all  things, 
in  the  infinite  and  eternal  Being,  are  infinite 
and  eternal,  but  they  are  also,  though  in  a 
manner  quite  inexpressible.  Himself.  He  is 
good  without  quality,  great  without  quanti- 
ty, &c.  He  is  good  in  such  a  sense  as  to  be 
called  by  the  evangelist,  the  only  good  Be- 
ing, Matt.  xix.  17.  He  is  also  the  only  wise 
Being:  To  the  only  wise  God,  saith  the  apos- 
tle. 1  Tim.  i.  17.  And  the  same  apostle  tells 
us,  in  another  place,  that  he  only  hath  im- 
mortality ;  1  Tim.  vi.  16,  that  is,  from  his 
own  nature,  and  not  from  the  will  or  dispo- 
sition of  another.  "If  we  are  considered  as 
joined  to,  or  united  with  God,"  says  an  an- 
cient writer  of  great  note,  "  we  have  a  be- 
ing, we  live,  and  in  some  sort  are  wise  ;  but 
if  we  are  compared  with  God,  we  have  no 
wisdom  at  all,  nor  do  we  live,  or  so  much 
as  have  any  existence."*  All  other  things 
were  by  him  brought  out  of  nothing,  in  con- 
sequence of  a  free  act  of  his  will,  by  means 
of  his  infinite  power  :  so  that  they  may  be 
justly  called  mere  contingencies,  and  he  is  the 
only  necessarily  existent  Being.  Nay,  he  is 
the  only  really  existent  Being  ;  ra  oVrwj  iw;  or 
as  Ploniinus  expresses,  ri  vrrcniivruiS  on.  Thus, 
also,  the  Septuaginl  speaks  of  him  as  the 
only  existent  Being,  o  ,':,v.  And  so  also  does 
the  iieathen  |)oet.+  This  is  likewise  im|)lied, 
in  the  exalted  name  Jehovah,  which  exjires- 
ses  his  being,  and  that  he  has  it  from  him- 
self; but  what  that  being  is,  or  wherein  its 
essence,  so  to  speak,  consists,  it  does  not  say  ; 
nor  if  it  did,  could  we  at  all  conceive  it.  Nay, 
so  far  is  that  name  from  discovering  what  his 
being  is,  that  it  plainly  insinuates  that  his 
existence  is  hid  and  covered  with  a  veil.  1 
am  who  I  am  :  or,  /  am  what  I  am.  As  if  he 
had  said,  I  myself  know  what  I  am,  but  you 
neither  know  nor  can  know  it;  and  if  I 
'should  declare  wherein  my  being  consists, 
you  could  not  conceive  it.  He  has,  luAvever, 
manifested  in  his  works  and  in  his  word, 
what  it  is  our  interest  to  know,  that  he  is 
the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious,  abun- 
dant in  i;oodncss  and  truth. 

We  call  him  a  most  pure  Spirit,  and  mean 
to  say,  that  he  is  of  a  nature  entirely  incor- 
poreal :  yet,  this  word,  in  the  Greek,  and 
Hebrew,  and  all  other  languages,  accord- 
ing to  its  primitive  and  natural  signification, 
conveys  no  other  idea  than  that  of  a  gentle 
gale,  or  wind,  which  every  one  knows  to  be 
a  body,  though  rarefied  to  a  very  great  de- 
gree:  so  that,  when  we  speak  of  thai  Infinite 

•  Deo  si  conjiingitniir,  sumiis,  vivimus,  saijimiis; 
Deo  si  comparamur,  ncc  sapiiiiiis  oiniiino,  iiuc  vivi- 
mus, imo  iiec  siiiiiiis.    (;hko.  Mag.  Mor. 

t  Oiie  rif  laO'  ircpos  X'^ff  /'ty'^t"  ffaat^iios. 


00 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


Purity,  all  words  fail  us  ;  and  even  when  we 
think  of  it,  all  tlu' refinements  of  the  acutesl 
undersiaiuliiiLT  are  quite  at  a  stand,  and  be- 
come entirely  useless.  It  is,  in  every  respect, 
as  necessary  to  acknowledge  his  eiernity  as 
his  being  ;  provided  that,  wiien  we  mention 
the  term,  Gud,  we  mean  by  it  the  First  Being-, 
supjiosing  that  expression  to  include  also  his 
sell-existence.  This  idea  of  a  First  and  eter- 
nal Being  is  again  inseparably  connected 
with  an  inlinite  degree  of  all  possible  perfec- 
tion, together  with  immutability,  and  abso- 
lute perseverance  therein.  But  all  these  are 
treated  of,  at  great  length,  in  theological 
books,  whereol'you  have  a  very  large  collec- 
tion. 

In  like  maimer,  if  we  suppose  God  to  be  the 
first  of  all  Beings,  we  must  unavoidably  there- 
Irom  conclude  his  unity.  As  to  the  ineffable 
Trinity  subsisting  in  this  Unity,  a  mystery 
discovered  only  by  the  sacred  Scriptures,  es- 
pecially in  the  New  Testament,  where  it  is 
more  clearly  revealed  than  in  the  Old,  let 
others  boldly  pry  into  it,  if  they  please,  while 
we  receive  it  with  an  humble  faith,  and  think 
•t  sufficient  for  us  to  admire  and  adore. 

The  other  attributes  that  used  to  be  men- 
tioned on  this  subject  may  be  supposed  to  be 
perfectly  comprehended  under  the  fallowing 
three,  viz.,  potver,  wisdom,  and  goodness  :  for 
holiyiess,  jtislicc,  mercy,  infinite  bounly,  &c., 
may  be,  with  great  propriety,  ranked  under 
the  general  term  of  goodness. 

But  rather  than  insist  upon  metaphysi- 
cal speculations,  let  us,  while  we  walk  daily 
in  these  j)leasant  fields,  be  constantly  culling 
fresh  and  never-fading  flowers.  "  When  the 
psalmist  cries  out,  Great  is  the  Lord  and 
greatly  to  he  praised^  and  of  his  greatness 
there  isno  end,  he  wanted  to  show,"  saith  St. 
Augustine,  "  how  great  he  is.  But  how  can 
this  be  done  ?  Though  he  repeated,  Great, 
Great,  the  whole  day,  it  would  have  been  to 
little  purpose,  for  he  must  have  ended  at  last, 
becaus<;  the  day  would  have  ended  ;  but  his 
greatness  was  before  the  beginning  of  days, 
and  will  reach  beyond  the  end  of  time."* 
The  poet  expresses  himself  admirably  well : 
"  I  will  praise  thee,  0  blessed  God,  with  mj 
voice,  1  will  praise  thee  also,  with  silence. 
For  thou,  O  inexpressible  Father,  who  canst 
never  be  known,  understandest  the  silence  of 
the  mind,  as  well  as  any  words  or  expres- 
sions."! 

•  Volebat  dicerc  quam  magnus  sit,  sed  hoc  qui  fie- 
ri potest  ?  Ktsi  tota  die  magnum  dioerit,  parum  ts- 
set,  finiret  enim  aliquando,  quia,  finiretur  dies  ;  inag- 
nitudo  autem  iUius  ante  dies,  et  ultra  dies. 

ICui  6ia  i^u>vas. 

"Offa  yap  ipuvdi 
t6aa  Kat  aiyai, 
'Aic(S  votoai, 

nirep  (ipjirirc.—SYH.  HvUNO.,  4to. 


LECTURE  XXII. 

HOW   TO  REGULATE    LIFE    ACCORDING   TO  THH 
KULES   OF  RF.LIGION. 

I  HAVE  now,  at  different  times,  addressed 
myself  to  you  upon  several  subjects  of  great 
importance,  and  of  the  utmost  necessity  ; 
though  what  I  have  hitherto  said,  was  only 
designed  as  a  preface  or  introduction  to  what 
I  further  proposed.  But  to  attempt  to  prose- 
cute this  design  at  the  very  end  of  the  year, 
would  be  quite  improper,  and  to  little  or  no 
purpose  :  I  shall,  therefore,  altogether  for- 
bear entering  upon  it,  and  for  this  time,  lay 
before  you  a  few  advices,  which  may  be  use- 
ful, not  only  in  order  to  employ  to  greater  ad- 
vantage the  months  of  vacation  that  are  now 
at  hand,  but  also  the  better  to  regulate  your 
whole  lives. 

And  my  first  advice  jhall  be,  to  avoid  loo 
much  sleep,  which  wastes  the  morning  hours, 
that  are  most  proper  for  study,  as  well  as  for 
the  exercises  of  religion,  and  stupefies  and 
enervates  the  strength  of  body  and  mind.  I 
remember  that  the  famous  abbot  of  Clairvaux, 
Bernard,  when  he  found  the  friars  sleeping 
immoderately,  used  to  say,  that  "  they  slept 
like  the  secular  clergy."*  And  though  we 
do  not  admit  of  the  severe  rules  to  which  the 
monks  subjected  themselves,  we  must  at 
least  allow,  that  the  measure  and  degree  of 
sleep  and  other  bodily  refreshments,  suitable 
for  a  young  man  devoted  to  study  and  devo- 
tion, is  very  far  different  from  that  excess  in 
which  the  common  sort  of  mankind  indulge 
themselves. 

Another  advice,  which  is  akin  to,  and  near- 
ly connected  with,  the  former,  shall  be,  to 
observe  temperance  in  eating  and  drinking. 
For  moderation  in  sleeping,  generally  follows 
sobriety  in  eating  and  other  sensual  gratifica- 
tions ;  but  that  thick  cloud  of  vapors  that  aris- 
es from  a  full  stomach  must  of  necessity  over- 
whelm all  the  animal  spirits,  and  keep  them 
long  locked  up  in  an  indolent,  inactive  state. 
Therefore,  the  Greeks,  not  without  reason, 
express  these  two  duties,  to  be  sober  and  to 
be  watchful,  indifferently  by  the  same  term. 
And  the  Apostle  Peter,  that  he  might  make 
this  connexion  more  evident,  uses,  indeed, 
two  words  for  this  purpose;  but  exhorts  to 
these  duties  as  closely  connected  together, 
or  rather,  as  if  they  were,  in  some  respect, 
but  one.  Be  sober,  be  vigilant.  1  Pet.  v.  8. 
And  in  the  same  epistle,  having  substituted 
another  word  for  sobriety,  he  expresses  watch- 
fulness by  the  same  word  he  had  put  for  so- 
briety in  the  other  place  [Niit^art] :  Be  sober 
and  watch.  1  Pet.  iv.  7.  Both  these  disposi- 
tions are  so  applied  to  the  mind,  as  to  in- 
clude a  sober  and  watchful  stale  of  the  body 
and  senses;  as  this  is  exceeding  useful,  nay, 
quite  necessary,  in  order  to  a  correspondent 
frame  of  the  mind,  and  that  disposition  both 

*  .Seculariter  dormire 


A  RELIGIOUS  LIFE. 


701 


»t  boil\  and  mind,  not  only  subservient,  but 
also  necessary  to  piety  and  constancy  in  pray- 
er :  Be  sober  and  watch  xinto  prayer.  1  Pe- 
ter, iv.  7. 

When  the  body  is  reduced  to  its  lightest 
and  most  active  state,  still,  as  it  is  corrupti- 
ble, ii  IS,  to  be  sure,  a  burden  to  the  mind.  | 
How  much  more  must  it  be  so,  when  it  isde-  i 
pressed  with  an  immoderate  load  of  meat  and 
driiiit,  and,  in  consequence  of  this,  of  sleep! 
Nor  can  the  mind  rouse  itself,  or  use  the 
wings  of  contemplation  and  prayer  with  free- 
dom, when  it  is  overpowered  with  so  heavy  a 
load  :  nay,  neither  can  it  make  any  remarka- 
ble progress  in  the  study  of  human  literature, 
but  will  move  slowly  and  embarrassed,  be  at 
a  stand,  like  a  wheel-carriage  in  deep  clay. 
The  Greeks  very  justly  expressed  the  virtue 
we  are  now  recommending,  by  the  term 
it  being,  as  your  favorite  philoso- 
pher, Aristotle,  observes  in  his  Ethics,  the 
great  preservative  of  the  mind.  He  is  cer- ! 
lainly  a  very  great  enemy  to  his  own  under-  j 
standing,  who  lives  high  and  indulges  him- 
self in  luxury.  "  A  fat  belly  is  seldom  ac- 
companied with  an  acute  understanding."* 
Nor  is  it  my  intention  in  this,  only  to  warn 
you  against  drunkenness  and  luxury  ;  I  would 
willingly  hope  that  such  an  advice  would  be 
superfluous  to  you  :  but,  in  this  conflict,  I 
would  willingly  carry  you  to  such  a  pitch  of 
victory,  that,  at  your  ordinary  and  least  deli- 
cious meals,  yon  would  always  stop  some  de- 
grees within  the  bounds  to  which  your  appe- 
tite would  carry  you.  Consider  that,  as  Cato 
said,  "  the  belly  has  no  ears;"!  but  it  has  a 
mouth,  into  which  a  bridle  must  be  put,  and 
therefore  I  address  not  myself  to  it,  hut  to  the 
directing  mind  that  is  set  over  it,  wliich,  for 
that  reason,  ought  to  govern  the  body  with 
all  its  senses,  and  curb  them  at  its  pleasure. 
St.  Bernard's  words  are  admirable  to  this  pur- 
pose. "  A  prudent  mind  devoted  to  God, 
ought  so  to  act  in  its  body,  as  the  master  of 
a  family  in  his  own  house.  He  ought  not  to 
suffer  his  Hesh  to  be,  as  Solomon  expresses  it, 
like  a  brawling  woman,  nor  any  carnal  appe- 
tite to  act  like  a  rebellious  servant ;  but  to 
inure  them  to  obedience  and  patience.  He 
must  not  have  his  senses  for  his  guides,  but 
bring  them  into  subjection  and  subserviency 
to  reas(jii  and  relision.  He  must,  by  all 
means,  have  his  house  and  family  so  ordered 
and  well  d isci|)lined,  that  he  can  say  to  one. 
Go,  and  he  goeth,  and  to  another,  Come,  and 
he  Cometh,  and  to  his  servant  the  body,  Do 
this,  and  it  doeth  what  it  is  bid  without  mur- 
muring. The  body  must  also  be  treated  with 
a  little  hardship,  that  it  may  not  b'  disobedi- 
ent to  the  mind."}:    For  he,  saith  Solomon, 

*  T\a^cia  Aajr^p  yrirtrdv  oi  TtKrei  v6ov» 

SVt'tilrcin  non  habere  aures. 
Sic  priidens  ft  Ueo  (lic;itiis  animus  h<tbpre  se  de- 
bet in  corpore  suo,  sicul  piitrr-fariiilias  in  doino  sua. 
Non  tiabcat,  sicut  Solomon  ilicit,  mulirTcm  litigiosam 
Ciimfrri  siiarn,  m-c  ulliiin  appftituni  carnis  ul  servum 
rebi.'Uuiri,  sell  ad  (ib(!(licntiain  ct  /^atientiani  assuofac- 
tom.    liabt-at  scnsu!i  anon  nun  duces,  scd  rationi  et  j 


that  delicately  hringeth  up  his  servant  from  a 
child,  shall  have  him  become  a  ( rebellious )  son 
at  last.  Prov.  xxix.  21.  This  is  what  I 
would  have  you  aspire  to,  a  conquest  over 
your  flesh,  and  all  its  lusts  ;  for  they  carry 
on  a  deadly  war  against  your  souls,  and  their 
desires  are  then  most  to  be  resisted,  when 
they  flatter  most.  What  an  unhappy  and 
dishonorable  inversion  of  nature  is  it,  when 
the  flesh  commands,  and  the  mind  is  in  sub- 
jection ;  when  the  flesh,  which  is  vile,  gross, 
earthly,  and  soon  to  be  the  food  of  worms, 
governs  the  soul,  that  is  the  breath  of  God  ! 

Another  thing  1  would  have  you  beware  of, 
iS;  immoderate  speech.  The  evils  of  the  tongue 
are  many  :  but  the  shortest  way  to  find  a  way 
for  them  all,  is,  to  study  silence,  and  avoid, 
as  the  poet  expresses  it,  "  excessive  prating, 
and  a  vast  desire  of  speaking."* 

He  is  a  perfect  man,  as  the  Apostle  James 
expresses  it,  it)/io  q//"t-/ir/s  not  in  word.  James 
iii.  2.  And  therefore,  doubtless,  he  that  speaks 
least,  offends  in  this  respect  more  rarely.  But, 
in  the  multitude  of  words,  as  the  wise  man 
observes,  there  ivants  not  sin.  Proverbs  x.  19. 
To  speak  much,  and  also  to  the  purpose,  sel- 
dom I'alls  to  the  share  of  one  man.f  Now, 
that  we  may  avoid  loquacity,  we  must  love 
solitude,  and  render  it  familiar,  that  so  every 
one  may  have  an  opportunity  to  speak  much 
to  hitnself,  and  little  to  other  people.  "  We 
must,  lo  be  sure,"  says  a  Kempis,  "  be  in 
charity  with  all  men  ;  but  it  is  not  expedient 
to  be  familiar  with  every  one. "J  General  and 
indiscriminate  conversation  with  every  one 
we  meet,  is  a  mean  and  silly  thing.  Even 
when  we  promise  ourselves  comfort  and  sat- 
isfaction from  free  conversation,  we  often  re- 
turn from  such  interviews  with  uneasiness  ; 
or,  at  least,  have  spoken  and  heard  such 
things  as,  upon  serious  reflection,  may  justly 
give  us  concern. 

But,  if  we  would  secure  our  tongues  and 
senses,  or  keep  safe  our  hearts  and  all  the  is- 
sues of  life,  we  must  be  frequent  at  prayer,  in 
the  morning,  at  noon,  and  at  nicrht,  or  often- 
er  throughout  the  day,  and  continually  walk 
as  in  the  presence  of  God  ;  always  remember- 
ing that  he  (jbserves  not  only  our  words  and 
actions,  but  also  takes  notice  of  our  most  se- 
cret thoughts.  This  is  the  sum  and  substance 
of  true  piety  ;  for  he  who  is  always  sensible 
that  that  pure  and  all-seeing  Eye  is  continu- 
ally ui)on  him,  will  never  venture  to  sin  with 
set  pur[)ose,  or  lull  consent  of  mind.  This 
sense  of  the  Divine  presence  would  certainly 
make  our  life  on  this  earth  like  that  of  the 
angels  ;  for,  according  to  our  Lord's  expres- 

roligioni  serviontes  et  sequaces  ;  hab"at  ornnem  om- 
nino  doinum  vol  Camiliam  suam  sic  ordinatain,  etdis- 
ciplinne  siih<litain,  nl  dicat  huic,  Vadf>,  ct  vadal.  ct  alii, 
Vcni,  ct  vcniat,  et  servo  corpori,  Facito  lioc,  et  sine 
nnuriniire  fiat  quod  jubetur  ;  et  paulo  certe  durius 
traclandum  est  corpus,  ne  animo  iri  ile  parcat. 

*  Iriiprobagarruhtas,  studiunupic  immanc  loquendi 
t  X'l^oi-  Tft  T  f'lrtiv  Tr'iXAa  Kal  ru  huiniit. 

t  Charitas  certe  habendaest  erga  omnps,sod  fainil- 
iaritas  non  expedit. 


702 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


sion,  \t  IS  thrir  peculiar  ndvantajje,  cnnlinu- 
ally  to  behold  the  face  of  our  Fat  her  who  is  in 
heaven.  By  lliis  niraiis,  Joseph  escaped  the 
snares  laid  for  him  liy  an  iin]>erious  rnisircss  ; 
and,  as  if  lie  had  thrown  water  upon  it,  ex- 
tinirui>hed  lhat  fiery  dart  with  this  seasonable 
relleciion  :  Shall  J  do  /his  i^rcal  wickedness, 
and  sin  a<rninsl  God?  Genesis  xxxix.  9.  He 
niiijlit  have  escaped  the  eyes  of  men,  but  he 
stood  in  awe  of  that  Invisible  Kye  from  which 
nothing  can  be  hid.  We  read  of  a  good  man 
of  old,  who  got  the  better  of  a  temptation  of 
the  same  kind,  by  the  same  serious  considcr- 
fition  :  for,  being  carried  from  one  chamber  to 
another  by  the  woman  that  tempted  him,  he 
still  demanded  a  place  of  greater  secrecy,  till 
having  brought  hitn  to  tlie  most  retired  place 
of  the  whole  house,  "  Here,"  said  she,  "  no 
person  will  find  us  out,  no  eye  can  see  us." 
To  ;his  he  answered,  "Wi'J  no  eye  seel  will 
not  that  of  God  perceive  us  s  '  By  which  say- 
ing, he  himself  escaped  the  snare,  and,  by  the 
intiuence  of  Divine  grace,  brought  the  sinful 
woman  to  repentance.    But  now, 

*  Let  us  pray. 

Praise  waits  for  thee,  0  Lord,  in  Zion  ;  and 
to  bi,  emjiloyed  in  paying  thee  that  tribute  is 
a  becomins:  and  pleasant  exercise.  It  is  due 
to  th^c  from  all  the  works  of  thy  hands,  hut 
particularly  proper  from  thy  saints  and  celes- 
tial spirits.  Elevate,  0  Lord,  our  minds,  that 
they  may  not  grovel  on  the  earth,  and  plunge 
themselves  in  the  mire;  but,  being  carried 
upward,  may  taste  the  pleasures  of  iby  bouse, 
that  e.calted  house  of  thine,  the  inhabitants 
whereof  are  continually  singing  thy  praises. 
Their  praises  add  nothing  to  thee  ;  but  they 
themselves  are  perfectly  happy  therein,  while 
they  beliold  thy  boundless  goodness  without 
any  veil,  admire  thy  uncreated  beauty,  and 
celebrate  the  praises  thereof  throughout  all 
ages.  Grant  us,  lhat  we  may  walk  in  the 
paths  of  holt.,  ^ss,  and,  according  to  our  meas- 
ure, exalt  thy  name  even  on  this  earth,  until 
we  also  be  translated  into  the  glorious  assem- 
bly of  those  who  serve  thee  in  thy  higher 
house. 

Remember  thy  goodness  and  thy  covenant 
to  thy  church  militant  upon  this  earth,  and 
exposed  to  dangers  amid  so  many  enemies  ; 
yet  we  believe  that,  notwithstanding  all  these 
dangers,  it  will  be  safe  at  last :  it  may  be  dis- 
tressed, and  plunged  in  the  waters,  but  it  can 
not  be  quite  overwhelmed,  or  finally  perish. 
Pour  out  thy  blessings  upon  this  our  nation, 
our  city,  and  university.  Wc  depend  upon 
lhee,0  Father,  without  whose  hand  we  should 
not  have  been,  and  without  whose  favor  we 
can  never  be  happy.  Inspire  our  hearts  with 
gladness,  thou  who  alone  art  the  fountain  of 
solid,  pure,  and  permanent  joy  ;  and  lead 
Us,  by  the  paths  of  righteousness  and  grace, 
to  the  resl_  and  li<rht  of  glory,  for  the 
sake  of  thy  Son,  our  Redeemer,  Jesus  Christ. 
AincK. 


LECTURE  XXIIL 

PURITY  OF  LIFE. 

In  every  act  of  religious  worship,  what  s 
great  advantage  would  it  be,  to  remember 
that  saying  of  our  great  Master,  which  no- 
body is  altogether  ignorant  of,  and  yet  scarce- 
ly any  know  as  they  ought:  "That  Go:, 
whom  we  worship,  is  a  spirit,  and  therefore 
to  be  worshipped  in  spirit  and  in  truth.."*  lie 
is  a  spirit,  a  most  pure  si)irii,  and  the  Father 
of  spirits:  he  is  truth,  primitive  truth,  and  the 
most  pure  fountain  of  all  truth  :  "  But  we  all 
have  erred  in  heart."!  We  are  indeed  spir- 
its, but  spirits  immersed  in  flesh  :  nay,  as  it 
were,  converted  into  flesh,  and,  the  light  of 
truth  being  extinguished  within  us,  quite  in- 
volved  in  the  darkness  of  error:  and  what 
still  sets  us  in  greater  opposition  to  the  truth, 
everything  about  us  is  false  and  delusive: 
"  There  is  no  soundness. "J  How  improper, 
therefore,  are  we,  who  are  deceitful  and  car- 
rial,\\  to  worship  that  8])irit  of  supreme  truth  ! 
Though  we  pray,  and  fast  often,  yet  all  our 
sacrifices,  as  they  are  polluted  by  the  impure 
hands  wherewith  we  offer  them,  must  be  of- 
fensive, and  unaccejjtable  to  God:  and  the 
more  they  are  multiplied,  the  more  the  jiure 
and  spotless  Deily  must  complain  of  iheiii,as 
the  grievance  is  thereby  enhanced.  Thus,  by 
his  projihel,  he  complained  of  his  people  of 
old:  "Your  new  moons,"  sailh  he,  "and 
your  appointed  feasts,  my  soul  liateih  :  they 
are  a  trouble  to  me ;  I  am  weary  to  beat 
them  ;  therefore,  when  you  spread  forth  your 
hands,  I  will  hide  mine  eyes  from  you,  and, 
as  it  were,  turn  my  back  upon  you  with  dis- 
dain :  but  if  you  will  wash  you,  and  make 
you  clean,  then  come  and  let  us  reason  to- 
gether :"^  as  if  he  had  said,  "  Then  let  us 
converse  together,  and  if  there  beany  differ- 
ence between  us,  let  us  talk  over  the  matter, 
and  settle  it  in  a  friendly  manner,  that  our 
complaints  may  be  turned  into  mutual  em- 
braces, and  all  your  sins  being  freely  and 
fully  forgiven,  you  may  be  restored  to  perfect 
innocejice.'' — "  Though  your  sins  be  as  scar- 
let, they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow  ;  though 
they  be  redder  than  crimson,  they  shall  be 
whiter  than  wool ;  wash  yourselves,  and  I 
will  also  wash  you,  and  most  completely 
wipe  away  all  your  stains." 

But  that  we  may  be  the  better  provided  foi 
this  useful  and  altogether  necessary  exercise 
of  cleansing  our  hearts  and  ways,  and  apply 
to  it  with  the  greater  vigor,  let  us  dwell  a  lit- 
tle upon  lhat  sacred  expression  in  the  Psalms, 
"Wherewith  shall  a  young  man  purify  his 
way  ?"  The  answer  is,  "  By  taking  heed 
thereloaccording  to  thy  word."ir  In  this  ques- 
•  .lolin  iv.  24. 

t  'H/itTf  61  noWoi  KupSia  irXafu/israe. 

I  OiSiv  vyiif' 

II  TidfiKiKOi  Kai  ipcvarat, 
^  ls:ii:ili  i.  14—16,  18. 
^  Psalm  cxix.  9 


PURITY  OF  LIFE. 


703 


tion,  several  things  offer  themselves  to  our 
observation. 

1.  That,  without  controversy,*  purity  of 
life,  or  conversation,  is  a  most  beautiful  and 
desirable  attaijiment,  and  that  it  must,  by  all 
means,  be:jin  at  the  very  fountain,  that  is,  the 
heart  ;  whence,  as  Solomon  observes,  "  pro- 
ceed the  issues  of  life."  In  the  beginning  of 
the  Psalm,  they  are  pronounced  blessed  "  who 
are  pure,  or  undefiled  in  the  way,  who  walk 
in  the  law  of  the  Lord."  And,  in  another 
place,  "Truly,  God  is  good  to  Israel,"  says 
the  psalmist,  "  even  to  such  as  are  of  a  clean 
heart. "t  And  the  words  of  our  Savior  to  this 
purpose  are,  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart, 
for  tliey  shall  see  God."|  Nor  is  the  true  and 
genuine  beauty  of  the  soul  anything  distinct 
from  this  purity  and  sanctity  ;  this  is  the  true 
imase  of  its  2;reat  Creator  ;  that  golden  crown 
which  most  unhappily  dropped  off  the  head 
of  man,  when  he  fell  :  so  that,  with  the  great- 
est justice,  we  may  lament  and  say,  "  Wo  un- 
to us  that  we  have  sinned  !"  And  it  is  the 
general  design  and  intention  of  all  religion, 
all  its  mysteries,  and  all  its  precepts,  that 
this  crown  may  be  again  restored,  at  least  to 
some  part  of  the  human  race,  and  this  image 
again  stamped  upon  them  ;  which  image, 
when  fully  completed,  and  for  ever  confirmed, 
will  certainly  constitute  a  great  part  of  that 
happiness  we  now  hope  for,  and  aspire  after. 
Then,  we  trust,  we  shall  attain  to  a  more  full 
conformiiy  and  resemblance  to  our  beloved 
Head.  .And,  even  in  this  wayfarmg state,  the 
more  deeply  and  thorou<;hly  our  souls  are 
tinctured  with  the  divine  flame  of  charity, 
joined  with  ibi?  beautiful  purity,  the  more 
we  resemble  him  wno  is  white  ami  ruddy,  and 
fairer  than  the  sons  of  men.  The  Father  of 
mercies  has  made  choice  of  us,  that  we  may 
be  holy  ;  the  Son  of  God,  blessed  for  ever,  has 
once  lor  all  shed  his  blood  upon  earth,  in  or- 
der 10  purify  us,  and  daily  pours  out  his 
Spirit  from  heaven  upon  us,  for  tlie  same 
purpose. 

But  to  consider  the  matter,  as  it  is  in  itself, 
where  is  the  person  that  does  not,  even  by  the 
force  of  natural  instinct,  disdain  filth  and  nas- 
tiness,  (jr  at  least  prefer  to  it  puriiy  and  neat- 
ness of  body?  Now,  as  the  soul  greatly  ex- 
cels the  body,  so  much  ihe  more  desirable  is 
it,  that  it  should  be  found  in  a  state  of  beauty 
and  purity.  In  like  manner,  were  we  to 
travel  a  journey,  who  would  not  prefer  a 
plain  and  clean  way  to  one  that  were  rough 
and  dirty  ?  But  the  way  of  life,  which  is  not 
the  case  in  other  matters,  will  be  altogether 
such  as  you  would  have  it  or  choose  to  make 
il.  With  God's  assistance,  and  the  influence 
of  his  grace,  a  good  man  is  at  pains  to  purify 
his  own  way  :  but  men  of  an  impure  and 
beastly  disposition,  who  delight  to  wallow  in 
the  mire,  may  always  easily  obtain  llieir  sor- 
did wish.  But  I  hope  that  you,  disdaining 
such  a  brutish  indignity,  will,  in  preference 


•  '0/<oXoy<»t>(itt>6){. 
t  Ps.iJiii  Ixxiii.  1. 


X  Matt.  T.  8. 


to  everything  else,  give  your  most  serious  at- 
tention to  this  inquiry,  by  what  ineans  even 
young  men  and  boys  may  purify  iheir  way, 
and,  avoidinsr  the  dirty  paths  of  the  common 
sort  of  mankind,  walk  in  such  as  are  more 
pleasant  and  agreeable. 

2.  Observe,  that  purity  is  not  such  an  easy 
matter  that  it  may  fall  by  chance  in  the  way 
of  those  that  are  not  in  quest  ol'  it,  but  a  work 
of  great  art  and  industry.  Hence  you  may 
also  learn,  that  the  way,  even  of  young  men 
or  boys,*  stands  very  much  in  need  of  this 
careful  attention.  It  is  indeed  true,  thai,  in 
some  respect,  the  reformation  of  youih  is  ea- 
sier and  sooner  accomplished,  in  that  they  are 
not  accustomed  to  shameful  and  wicked  ways, 
nor  confirmed  in  sinful  habits  :  but  there  are 
other  regards  wherein  ii  is  more  difficult  to 
reduce  that  period  of  life  to  purity,  particu- 
larly as  it  IS  more  strongly  impressed  with 
the  outward  objects  that  surround  it,  and  ea- 
sily disposed  to  imbibe  the  very  worst :  the 
examples  and  iiiciiemenis  to  vice  beset  youth 
in  greater  abundance,  and  those  of  that  age 
are  more  apt  to  fall  in  with  them. 

But  whatever  may  be  said  of  the  easinHs 
or  difiiculty  of  reforming  youth  and  child- 
hood, it  is  evident  from  the  question,  which, 
without  doubt,  is  proposed  with  wisdom  aiid 
seriousness,  that  this  matter  is  within  the 
verge  of  possibility,  and  of  the  number  of 
such  as  are  fit  to  be  attempted.  Youth  i^not 
so  headstrong,  nor  childhood  so  foolish,  but 
by  proper  means  ihey  can  be  bent  and  formed 
to  virtue  and  piety.  Notwithstanding  the  ir- 
regular desiresaiid  forwardness  of  youth,  and 
that  madness  whereby  they  are  hurried  to  for- 
bidden enjoyments,  there  are  words  aud  ex- 
pressions that  can  sooth  this  impetuosity,  even 
such,  that  by  them  youth  can  tame  and  com- 
pose itself.  By  attend  in<j;  to  itself  and  its  ways, 
according  to  thy  word:  that  matchless  word, 
which  contains  all  those  particular  words  and 
expressions,  not  only  that  are  proper  to  purify 
and  quiet  all  i  he  motions  and  afreclioiis  of  the 
soul,  but  also,  by  a  certain  Divine  power,  are 
wonderfully  elficacious  for  that  purpose.  And 
what  was  said  of  old  coiu'erning  Sjiarta  and 
its  discipline,  may  be,  with  mucli  greater 
truth,  asserted  of  the  Divine  law  and  true  re- 
ligion, VIZ.,  that  it  had  a  surprising  [xjwer  to 
tame  and  subdue  mankind.]  And  this  leads 
us  directly  to  the  answer  of  the  question  in 
the  text :  By  attending  thereto  according  to 
thy  word. 

This  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  done  according 
to  our  philosophy,  but  according  to  thy  word, 
0  eternal  Light,  Truth,  and  I'urity  !  The 
philosophy  of  the  heathens,  it  is  true,  con- 
tains some  moral  instructions  and  precepts 
that  are  by  no  means  despicable  ;  but  this  is 
only  so  far  as  they  are  agreeable  to  the  word 
of  God  and  the  Divine  law,  though  the  phi- 
losophers themselves  knew  nothing  of  it. 

•  Tho  Mohrew  word  used  in  the  text,  properly  sig- 
nifies a  boy. 


704 


THEOLOGICAL  LECTURES. 


But  llie  only  perfect  system  of  moral  philos- 
ophy, tha:  ouiiht  to  be  universally  received, 
is  the  iloctrineof  (Mnisiianiiy.  This  the  an- 
cient faihers  ol'  the  jirimitive  church  liave 
assericd,  and  t'liUy  proved,  to  the  honor  of 
our  religion.  But  those  who  spend  their 
lives  in  the  study  of  philosopiiy  can  neither 
reform  themselves  nor  others,  if  nature  he 
but  a  little  obstinate;  and  their  wisdom, 
when  it  does  its  utmost,  rather  conceals  vi- 
ces, than  eradicates  them  ;  but  the  Divine 
precepts  make  so  great  a  change  upon  the 
man,  and,  subduing  his  old  habits,  so  reform 
him,  that  you  would  not  know  him  to  be  the 
same.  If  any  of  you,  then,  aspire  to  this 
purity  of  mind  and  way,  you  must,  with  all 
possible  care,  conform  yourself,  and  every- 
thing about  you,  to  the  instructions  and  pre- 
cepts of  this  Divine  word.  Nor  think  this  a 
hard  saying;  for  the  study  of  purity  has 
nothing  in  it  that  is  unpleasant  or  disagreea- 
ble, unless  you  think  it  a  grievance  to  become 
like  unto  God. 

Consider  now,  young  men,  nay,  you  who, 
without  offence,  will  suffer  yourselves  to  be 
cj^ed  boys  :  consider,  I  say,  wherein  consists 
that  true  wisdom  which  deserves  to  be  pur- 
sued with  the  most  earnest  study  and  appli- 
cation, and  whereby,  if  you  Avill,  you  may 
fiir  exceed  those  that  are  your  superiors  in 
years.  Be  ambitious  to  attain  the  advan- 
tage mentioned  in  the  text,  and  consequent- 
ly the  condition  upon  which  it  depends,  for 
they  are  inseparably  connected  together. 
Reconcile  your  minds  to  a  strict  attention  to 
your  ways,  according  to  the  Divine  word  ; 
and  by  this  means  (which  is  a  very  rare  at- 
tainment), you  will  reconcile  youth,  and  even 
childhood,  to  the  purity  here  recommended. 
Account  the  Divine  word  and  precepts  pref- 
erable to  your  daily  food  ;  yea,  let  them  be 
dearer  to  you  than  your  eyes,  and  even  than 
life  itself. 


LECTURE  XXIV. 

BEFORE   THE  CO.MMUNION.. 

It  is  the  advice  of  the  wise  man,  "  Dwell 
at  home,"  or,  with  yourself;  and  though 
there  are  very  few  that  do  this,  yet  it  is  sur- 
prising that  the  greatest  part  of  mankind  can 
not  be  prevailed  U[)on,  at  least  to  visit  them- 
selves sometimes  ;  but,  according  to  the  say- 
ing of  the  wise  Solomon,  The  eyes  of  the 
fool  are  in  the  ends  of  the  earth.  It  is  the 
peculiar  property  of  the  human  mind,  and 
its  signal  privilege,  to  reflect  upon  itself;  yet 
we,  foolishly  neglecting  this  most  valuable 
gift  conferred  upon  us  by  our  Creator,  and 
the  great  ornament  of  our  nature,  spend  our 
lives  in  a  brutish  thoughtlessness.  Were  a  man 
not  only  to  turn  in  upon  himself,  carefully  to 
search  and  examine  his  own  heart,  and  daily 
endeavor  to  improve  it  more  and  more  in  pu- 


I  rity,  but  also  to  excite  others  with  whom  lie 
conversed,  to  this  laudable  practice,  by  sea- 
1  sonable  advice  and  allVcling  exiiortations,  he 
I  would  certainly  think  himself  very  happy  in 
1  these  I'xercises.    Now,  though  this  expedi- 
I  ent  is  never  unseasonable,  yei,  it  will  be  par- 
ticularly proper  on  such  an  occasion  as  this, 
to  try  it  upon  yourselves  :  as  you  are  not  ig- 
j  norant,  that  it  is  the  great  apostolical  rule 
j  with  respect  to  all  who  are  called  to  eel e- 
I  brate  the  Divine  mysteries.    Let  every  man 
I  examine  himself  and  so  let  him  eat  of  that 
bread,  and  drink  of  thai  cup.  1  Cor.  xi.  28. 

I  do  not  here  intend  a  full  exjilication  of 
this  mystery,  but  only  to  ])ut  you  in  mind, 
that,  in  order  to  a  saving  use  and  participa 
tion  thereof,  a  twofold  judgment  must  of  ne- 
cessity he  formed  :  the  first  with  respect  to 
our  own  souls,  and  the  other,  to  that  of  the 
Lord's  body.  These  the  aposlle  considers  as 
closely  connected  together,  and  therefore  ex- 
presses both  by  the  same  word.  The  trial 
we  are  to  make  of  ourselves  is  indeed  ex- 
pressed by  the  word  !-0Ktii{i(,ttv,  which  signifies 
to  prove  or  to  try  ;,  but  inimcdiately  after,  he 
expresses  it  by  judging  ourselves  [Ei  yap  Uvtovs 
Su'^pii'oiieii] ;  For  if  ive  should  judge  ourselves, 
&c.  Whereas,  in  the  preceding  verses,  he 
had  mentioned  the  other  judgment  to  be 
formed,  and  expressed  it  by  the  same  word 
\SiaKpivciv],  which  signifies  lo  judge  or  discern  : 
[Mti6iaKpiii .  V  Td  awiia  rov  K'pi'oti.J  Nol  discerning 
the  Lord^s  body.  And  this  is  that  which 
renders  a  vast  many  unworthy  of  so  great 
an  honor  ;  they  approach  this  heavenly  feast 
without  forming  a  right  judgment  either  of 
themselves  or  of  it.  But,  that  we  form  a 
judgment  of  ourselves,  it  is  necessary  that 
we  first  bring  ourselves  to  an  impartial  trial : 
and,  to  be  sure,  I  should  much  rather  advise 
you  to  this  inward  self-examination,  and 
heartily  wish  I  could  persuade  you  to  it,  than 
that  you  should  content  yourselves  with  a 
lifeless  trial  of  your  memory,  by  repeating 
compositions  on  this  subject. 

Consider  with  yourselves,  I  pray,  and  think 
seriously,  what  madness,  what  unaccounta- 
ble folly  it  is,  to  trifle  with  the  majesty  of 
the  Most  High  God,  and  to  offer  to  infinite 
Wisdom  the  sacrifices  of  distraction  and 
folly  ?  Shall  we  who  are  but  insignificant 
worms,  thus  provoke  the  ahntghly  King  to 
jealousy,  as  if  we  were  stronger  than  he, 
and  of  purpose  run  our  heads,  as  it  were, 
against  that  Power,  the  slightest  touch 
whereof  would  crush  us  to  dust  ?  Do  we  not 
know,  that  the  same  God  who  is  an  enliven- 
ing and  saving  light  to  all  that  worship  with 
humble  piety,  is,  nevertheless,  a  consuming 
fire  to  all  the  impious  and  profane,  who  pol- 
lute his  sacrifices  with  imjjure  beans  and  un- 
clean hands  1  And  that  those  esperially  who 
have  been  employed  in  his  church,  and  in  the 
Divine  offices,  yet  have  not  experienced  his 
influence  as  a  pure  and  shining  light,  will  un- 
avoidably feel  liirn  as  a  flaming  fire?  Let 
his  saints  rejoice  and  exult  before  God,  for 


EXH0RTATIC>M  BEFORE  THE  COMMUNION. 


705 


this  lie  not  only  allows,  but  even  commands: 
yet,  let  even  those  of  them  who  have  made 
the  greatest  advances  in  holiness,  remember, 
that  this  holy  and  spiritual  joy  is  to  be  joined 
with  holy  fear  and  ireinbhng  :  nay,  the  great- 
er progress  they  have  made  in  holiness,  the 
more  deeply  will  they  feel  this  impressed  up- 
on their  minds,  so  that  they  can  by  no  means 
forget  it,  "  The  great  Eye  is  over  us,  let  us 
be  afraid."*  Great  is  our  God,  and  holy: 
even  the  angels  worship  him.  Let  his  saints 
approach  him,  but  with  humility  and  fear  ; 
but  as  for  the  slothful  and  those  that  are  im- 
mersed in  guilt,  who  securely  and  with  pleas- 
ure indulge  themselves  in  impure  alfections, 
let  them  not  dare  to  come  near.  Yet  if  there 
are  any,  let  their  suilt  and  pollution  be  ever 
so  great,  who  find  arising  within  them  a 
hearty  aversion  to  their  own  impurity,  and 
an  earnest  desire  after  holiness ;  behold,  there 
is  opened  for  you  a  living  and  pure  founiain, 
most  effectual  for  cleansing  and  washing 
away  all  sorts  of  stains,  as  well  as  for  re- 
freshing languishing  and  thirsty  souls.  And 
he  who  is  the  living  and  never-failing  foun- 
tain of  purity  and  grace,  encourages,  calls, 
and  exhorts  you  to  come  to  him.  Come  unto 
me,  all  ye  that  are  athirat,  &c.  And  again, 
All  thai  the  Father  giveth  me,  shall  come  un- 
to me  ;  and  him  that  cometh  unto  me,  I  will 
hy  no  means  reject  or  cast  out.    John  vi.  37. 

Ask  yourselves,  therefore,  what  you  would 
be  ai,  and  with  what  dispositions  you  come 
to  this  most  sacred  table.  Say,  Whither  art 
thou  going,  and  what  seekest  thou,  0  my 
soul  ?  For  it  would  be  an  instance  of  the 
most  extravagant  sloth  and  lolly,  to  set  about 
a  matter  of  so  great  importance,  and  so  seri- 
ous, without  any  end,  without  the  prospect 
)f  any  ad  vantage,  and  therefore  without  any 
serious  turn  of  mind,  or  as  one  doing  noth- 
ing. Yet  this  is  the  case  of  vasi  numbers 
that  meet  together  in  Divine  assemblies,  and 
at  this  holy  sacrament.  Is  it  any  wonder 
that  those  should  find  nothing,  who  abso- 
lutely have  nothing  in  view;  and  that  he 
who  is  hound  for  no  harbor,  should  meet  with 
no  favorable  wind  ?  They  give  themselves 
up  to  the  torrent  of  custom,  and  steer  not 
their  course  to  any  particular  port,  but  fluctu- 
ate and  know  not  whither  ihey  are  carried  ; 
or,  if  iiiey  are  alarmed  with  any  sting  of 
conscience,  it  is  only  a  kind  of  inconsiderate 
and  irregular  motion,  and  reaches  no  farther 
than  the  exterior  surface  of  sacred  institu- 
tions. But  as  for  you,  who,  according  to  the  ex- 
pression of  the  ansrels,  seek  Jesus,  fear  not  ; 
you  will  certainly  find  him,  and  in  him  all 
things.  For  it  hath  ■pleased  the  Father,  that 
in  him  all  fulness  shall  dioell.  Col.  i.  -10.  So 
that  in  him  there  is  no  vacuity  and  without 
him,  nothing  else  but  emptiness  and  vanity. 
Let  us  embrace  him,  therefore,  with  our 
whole  hearts,  and  on  him  alone  let  us  depend 
and  rely. 

Let  his  death,  which  we  commemorate  by 

*  "O^/ia  fiiya  rooficCiiitv, 

89 


I  this  mystery,  extinguish  in  us  all  worldly  af 
fections.  May  we  feel  his  Divine  power 
I  working  us  into  a  conformity  to  his  sacred 
image  ;  and  having  our  strength,  as  it  were, 
renewed  by  his  means,  let  us  travel  toward 
our  heavenly  country,  constantly  following 
hirh  with  a  resolute  and  accelerated  pace. 

The  concern  of  purifying  the  heart  in  good 
earnest,  taking  proper  measures  for  conform- 
ing I  he  life  to  the  rules  of  the  eospel,  is 
equally  incumbent  upon  all.  For  this  is  the 
great  and  true  design  of  all  Divine  worship, 
and  of  all  religious  institutions  ;  though  the 
greater  part  of  mankind  satisfy  themselves 
with  the  outward  surface  of  them,  and  there- 
fore catch  nothing  but  shadows  in  religion  it- 
self, as  well  as  in  the  other  concerns  of  life. 
We  have  public  prayers  and  solemn  sacra- 
ments: yet,  if  amid  all  these,  one  should 
look  for  the  true  and  lively  characters  of 
Christian  faith,  or  ii]  the  vast  numbers  that 
atiend  these  institutions,  he  should  search 
for  those  that,  in  the  course  of  their  lives, 
approve  themselves  the  true  followers  of 
their  great  Master,  he  would  find  reason  to 
compare  them  to  a  "  few  persons  swimming 
at  a  great  distance  from  one  another,  in  a 
vast  ocean."* 

It  has  been  observed  long  ago  by  one,  "  that 
in  Rome  itself  he  had  found  nothing  of 
Rome  ,"t  which  with  too  great  truth  might  be 
applied  to  religion,  about  which  we  make  so 
great  a  bustle  at  present ;  there  is  scarcely 
anything  at  all  of  religion  in  it,  unless  we 
imagine  that  religion  consists  of  words,  as  a 
grove  does  of  trees.  For,  if  we  suppose  it 
lies  in  the  mortification  of  sin,  unfeiijned  hu- 
mility, brotherly  charity,  and  a  noble  con- 
tempt of  the  world  and  the  flesh,  whither 
has  it  gone  and  left  us  ?  As  for  you,  young 
gentlemen,  if  you  would  apply  to  this  mat- 
ter in  good  earnest,  you  must,  of  necessity, 
bestow  some  time  and  pains  upon  it,  and  not 
fondly  dream  that  such  great  advantages  can 
be  met  with  by  chance,  or  in  consequence  of 
a  negligent  and  superficial  inquiry.  If  we 
are  to  alter  the  course  of  our  life  for  the  time 
to  come,  we  must  look  narrowly  into  our 
conduct  during  the  preceding  part  of  it  ;  for 
the  measures  to  be  taken  fur  the  future  are, 
in  a  great  degree,  suggested  by  what  is  past. 
He  acts  wisely,  and  is  a  hajjpy  man,  who 
frequently,  nay,  daily  reviews  his  words  and 
actions  ;  because  he  will  doubtless  perform 
the  same  duty  with  greater  ease,  and  to  bet- 
ter purpose,  when  he  is  called  to  it  with 
more  than  ordinary  solemnity.  And,  there- 
fore, they  who  have  experienced  how  pleas- 
ant this  work  is,  and  what  a  mixture  of  util- 
ity is  joined  with  this  pleasure,  will  :ipi)ly  to 
it  with  a  cheerl'ul  mind,  whenever  ojiportu- 
nity  requires  it.  As  to  others,  they  must  of 
necessity  set  about  it  some  lime  or  other:  I 
say  of  necessity,  if  I  am  allowed  to  say  it  la 
necessary  to  avoid  the  wrath  to  come,  and  to 

*  Apparont  rati  nantcs  in  gnrgite  vasto. 
t  Se  in  Romi,  Komae  nitiil  invenisse. 


706 


EXHOETATICN  TO  THE  STrDENTS. 


oDtain  ppaco  and  salvation.  Repentance  may 
possibly  ajipear  a  laboriuus  aiul  unpleasant 
work  to  jur  nidolence,  and  to  rrpeni,  may 
seera  a  harsh  ex|)ression  :  lo  peris/i,  howev- 
er, is  still  more  harsh  ;  but  a  sinful  man  has 
no  other  choice.  Our  Ijord,  who  is  trii;h  it- 
self, beins;  acquainted  with  tiie  cruel  execu- 
tion performed  by  Herod  upon  .he  Galileans, 
takes  this  opportunity  to  declare  to  his  hear- 
ers, that  nn/ess  they  repented,  they  should 
all  likeivise  perish.  Luke  xiii.  3.  The  Savior 
of  the  world,  it  is  true,  came  for  this  very 
purpose,  that  he  miij^ht  save  those  that  were 
miserable  and  lost,  from  the  fatal  necessity 
of  being  utterly  undone  ;  but  he  never  in- 
tended to  take  away  the  happy  and  pleasant 
necessity  of  repentance :  nay,  he  strength- 
ened the  obligation  to  it,  and  imposed  it  as  a 
duty  inseparably  connected  with  grace  and 
liappiness.  And  this  connexion,  he  not  only 
preached  in  expressions  lo  the  same  purpose 
with  his  forerunner,  John  the  Baptist,  but 
even  in  the  very  same  words  :  Repent  ye,  for 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand.  Matt.  iv.  7. 
And  in  another  place,  having  told  us  that  he 
came  not  to  call  the  righteous,  hut  sinners. 
Matt  ix.  13,  he  immediately  adds,  to  what 


he  called  those  sinners  ;  not  to  a  liberty  of 
indulijing  themselves  in  sin,  but  I'roni  sin  to 
repentance.  His  blood  which  was  shed  on 
the  cross  is  indeed  a  balsam  more  precious 
than  all  the  balm  of  Gilead  and  Arabia,  and 
all  the  ointments  of  the  whole  world  ;  but  it 
is  solely  intended  for  curing  the  contrile  in 
heart. 

But  alas!  that  gross  ignorance  of  God  that 
overclouds  our  mind  is  the  great  and  the  un- 
happy cause  of  all  the  guilt  we  have  con- 
tracted, and  of  that  impenitence  which  enga- 
'  ges  us  to  continue  in  it.  Had  men  but  the 
least  knowledge  how  disagreeable  and  hate- 
ful all  sinful  pollution  renders  us  1 1  his  eter- 
nal and  infinite  purity  ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  \that  a  likeness  to  him  Ave  attain  oy 
holiness,  and  how  amiable  we  are  thereby 
rendered  in  his  sight  :  they  would  look  upon 
this  as  the  only  valuable  attainment,  they 
would  pursue  it  with  tlie  most  vigorous  ef- 
forts of  their  minds,  and  would  make  it  their 
constant  study  day  and  night  ;  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  divine  advice  of  the  apostle,  being 
cleansed  from  all  Jilthiness  of  the  flesh  and 
spirit,  they  might  perfect  holiness  in  the  f tar 
of  God.  2  Cut.  vii.  9. 


AN  EXHORTATION  TO  THE  STUDENTS, 

UPON  THEIR  RETURN  TO  THE  UNIVERSITY  AFTER  THE  VACATION 


We  are  at  last  returned,  and  some  are  for 
the  first  time  brought  hither  by  that  Supreme  ! 
Hand  which  holds  th'e  reins  of  this  vast  uni- 
verse, which  rules  the  stormy  winds  and 
swelling  sea,  and  distributes  peace  and  war  to 
nations  according  to  its  pleasure.  The  great 
Lord  of  the  universe,  and  Father  of  mankind,  ' 
while  he  rules  the  world  with  absolute  sway,  [ 
does  not  despise  this  little  flock,  provided  we 
look  up  unto  him,  and  humbly  pray  that  we 
may  feel  the  favorable  effects  of  his  presence 
and  bounty  :  nay,  he  will  not  disdain  to  dwell 
within  us,  and  in  our  hearts,  unless  we, 
through  folly,  and  ignorance  of  our  true  hap- 
piness, shut  the  door  against  him  when  he 
offers  to  come  in.  He  is  the  Most  High,  yet 
has  chosen  the  humble  heart  for  the  most 
agreeable  place  of  his  residence  on  this  earth  : 
but  the  proud  and  hau^^hty,  who  look  with 
disdain  on  their  inferiors,  he,  on  his  part,  de- 
spises, and  beholds,  as  it  were,  afar  off.  He 
is  most  holy,  and  dwells  in  no  hearts  but  such 
as  are  purged  i'rom  the  dross  of  earthly  affec- 
tions ;  and  that  these  may  be  holy,  and  really 
capable  oi' receiving  his  sacred  Majesty,  they 
must,  of  necessity,  be  purified.  Know  yc  not, 
says  the  divine  apostle,  that  you,  even  your] 
bodies,  are  the  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  ] 


therefore  are  to  be  preserved  pure  and  holy  1 
1  Cor.  vi.  19.  But  the  mind  that  dwells 
within  them  must  be  still  more  holy,  as  be- 
ing the  priest  that,  with  constant  and  unwea- 
ried piety,  offers  up  the  sacrifices  and  sweet 
incense  of  pious  affections,  cheerful  obedi 
ence,  ardent  prayers,  and  divine  praises,  to 
the  Deity  of  that  temple. 

Of  your  studies  and  exotic  learning,  I  in- 
tend not  to  say  much.  The  knowledge,  I 
own,  that  men  of  letters,  who  are  the  most 
indefatigable  in  study,  and  have  the  advan- 
tage of  the  greatest  abilities,  can  possibly  at- 
tain to,  is  at  best  but  very  small.  But  since 
the  knowledge  of  languages  and  sciences 
however  inconsiderable  it  may  be,  is  the  bu 
siness  of  this  society  of  ours,  and  of  that  peri- 
od of  years  you  are  to  pass  here,  let  us  do,  ... 
pray,  as  the  Hebrews  express  it,  "  the  work 
of  the  day  while  the  day  lasts:"*  "Tor  timt 
slips  silently  away,  and  every  succeeding 
hour  is  attended  with  greater  disadvantages 
than  that  which  went  before  it."t 

Study  to  acquire  such  a  philosophy  as  is 
not  barren  and  babbling,  but  solid  and  true  ; 

•  Opus  diei  in  die  siio. 
t  Tompus  nam  taciturn  siibruit,  horaque 
Semper  prasterita  deterior  subit. 


EXHORTATION  TO  THE  STUDENTS. 


707 


not  such  a  one  as  floats  ^pon  the  surface  of 
endless  verbal  controversies,  but  one  that  en- 
ters into  the  nature  of  things :  for  he  spoke 
wood  sense,  who  said,  "  The  philosophy  of 
the  Greeiis  was  a  mere  jargon  and  noise  of 
words."* 

You  who  are  engaged  in  philosophical  in- 
quiries ought  to  remember,  in  the  meanwhile, 
that  you  are  not  so  strictly  confined  to  that 
study,  but  you  may,  at  the  same  time,  be- 
come proficients  in  elocution  ;  and,  indeed,  it 
is  proper  you  should.  I  would  therefore  have 
you  to  apply  to  both  these  studies  with  equal 
attention,  that  so  you  may  not  only  attain 
some  knowledge  of  nature,  but  also  be  in 
condition  to  communicate  your  sentiments 
with  ease,  upon  those  subjects  you  under- 
stand, and  clothe  your  thoughts  with  words 
ind  expressions  ;  without  which,  all  your 
knowledge  will  differ  but  very  little  from  bu- 
ried ignorance. 

In  joining  these  two  studies  together,  you 
have  not  only  reason  for  your  guide,  but  also 
Aristotle  himself  for  your  example  ;  for  we 
are  told,  that  it  was  his  custom  to  walk  up 
and  down  in  the  school  in  the  morning, 
teaching  philosophy,  particularly  those  spec- 
ulative and  more  obscure  points  which  in 
liiat  age  were  called  ratinnes  acroamatica: ; 
and  thus  he  was  employed  till  the  hour  ap- 
pointed for  anointing,  and  going  to  exercise  ;t 
out,  after  dinner,  he  applied  to  the  more  en- 
tertaining arts  of  persuasion,  and  made  his 
F'^liolars  declaim  upon  such  subjects  as  he 
ii[)poiiited  them. 

But  to  return  to  my  own  province*  for,  to 
say  the  truth,  I  reckon  all  other  tnmgs  for- 
eign to  my  purpose  ;  whatever  you  do  with 
regard  to  other  studies,  give  always  the  pref- 
erence to  sacred  Christian  philosophy,  which 
is,  indeed,  the  chief  philosophy,  and  has  the 
pre-eminence  over  every  other  science,  be- 
cause it  holds  Christ  to  be  the  Ilcad^  in 
whnin  all  Ike  treasures  of  wisdnm  and  knowl- 
erfge  are  hid.  Col.  ii.  3,  9.  This,  the  apostle 
fells  us,  was  not  the  case  of  th.ose  false  Chris- 
tians in  his  time,  whose  philosophy  regarded 
only  some  idle  superstitions  and  vain  obser- 
vations. Cultivate,  therefore,  I  say,  this  sa- 
cred wisdom  sent  down  from  heaven.  IvCt 
this  be  your  main  study;  for  its  mvsteries 
are  the  most  profound,  its  precepts  the  most 
pure,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  pleas- 
ant. In  this  study,  a  weak  understanding 
will  be  no  disadvantage,  if  you  have  but  a 
willing  mind  and  ardent  desires.  Here,  if 
anywhere,  the  observation  holds,  that  "if 
you  love  learning,  you  can  not  fail  to  make 

treat  progress  therein. "||  For  some  who 
aye  applied  with  great  industry  to  human 
philosophy,  have  found  it  to  be  like  a  dis- 
dainful mistress,  and  lost  their  labor  ;  but  Di- 

f  Mt^oi  ToC  aXiifiaToi, 

J  '^l    tt'P'lXrjv  KOftTCt* 

II  'Eay  its  i(.i\6jiaftti(,  tail  no\vjta9lif. — Isoc.  AD  Dem. 


j  vine  philosophy  invites  and  encourages  even 
those  of  the  meanest  parts. 

And,  indeed,  it  may  be  no  small  comfort 
i  and  relief  to  young  men  of  slow  capacities, 
j  who  make  but  little  progress  in  human  scien- 
ces, even  when  they  apply  to  them  with  the 
'  most  excessive  labor  and  diligence,  that  this 
[  heavenly  doctrine,  though  it  be  the  most  ex- 
alted in  its  own  nature,  is  not  only  accessible 
J  to  those  of  the  lowest  and  meanest  parts,  but 
I  they  are  cheerfully  admitted  to  it,  graciously 
received,  preferred  to  those  that  are  proud  of 
their  learning,  and  very  often  advanced  to 
'  higher  degrees  of  knowledge  therein  ;  ac- 
cording to  that  of  the  psalmist,  The  iaw  of 
J  the  Lord  is  pure,  enlightening  the  eyes  ;  the 
,  entrance  of  his  ivord  giveth  light;  it  giveth 
I  also  understanding  mito  the  simple.  Psalm 
cxix.  130.    You,  therefore,  whom  some  very 
forward  youths  leave  far  behind  in  other 
studies,  take  courage  ;  and  to  wipe  off  this 
stain,  if  it  be  one,  and  compensate  this  dis- 
couragement, make  this  your  refuge:  you 
can  not  possibly  arrive  at  an  equal  i)itch  of 
eloquence  or  philosophy  with  some  others, 
but  what  hinders  you,  I  pray,  from  being  as 
pious,  as  modest,  as  meek  and  humble,  as 
holy  and  pure  in  heart,  as  any  other  person 
whatever?    And  by  this  means,  in  a  very 
short  time,  you  will  be  completely  happy  in 
the  enjoyment  of  God,  and  live  for  ever  in 
the  blessed  society  of  angels  and  spirits  of 
just  men  made  perfect. 

But  if  you  want  to  lualfe  a  happy  progress 
in  this  wisdom,  you  must,  lo  be  sure,  declare 
war  against  all  the  lusts  of  the  world  and  the 
flesh,  which  enervate  your  minds,  weaken 
your  strength,  and  deprive  you  of  all  disposi- 
tion and  fitness  for  imbibing  this  pure  and 
immaculate  doctrine.  How  stupid  is  it  to 
catch  so  greedily  at  advantages  so  vanishing 
and  f  eeling  in  their  nature,  if,  indeed,  they 
can  be  called  advantages  at  all ;  "  advanta- 
ges that  are  carried  hither  and  thither,  hur- 
ried from  place  to  place  by  the  uncertainty  of 
their  nature,  and  often  fly  away  before  they 
can  be  possessed."*  An  author  remarkable 
for  his  attainments  in  religion,  jnstly  cries 
out,  "  0  I  what  peace  and  tranquillity  might 
he  possess  who  could  be  prevailed  upon  to 
cut  off  all  vain  anxiety,  and  think  only  of 
those  things  that  are  of  a  Divine  and  saving 
nature  !"t  Peace  and  tranquillity  is,  without 
doubt,  what  we  all  seek  after,  yet,  there  are 
very  few  that  know  the  way  to  it,  though  it 
be  quite  plain  and  open.  It  is,  indeed,  no 
wonder  that  the  blind  who  wander  about 
without  a  guide,  should  mistake  the  plainest 
and  most  open  path  :  but  we  have  an  infalli- 
ble guide,  and  a  most  valiant  leader.  Let 
us  follow  him  alone;  for  he  that  treadeth  in 
his  steps,  can  never  walk  in  darkness. 

*  Ta  avttj  Kal  kutoj  tpcp^jteva,  kuI  ireptrpCTr^fttva,  Kal  irplv 
\r}'[tBnifai,  aTTiovra, 

t  O  qui  omiipm  vaniim  solicitiidiiicm  am))iitarot,  et 
salutiiri;»  dnntaxat  ac  divina  cogitarel,  quantuin  qui. 
etem  et  jjacoiri  possideret  ! 


708 


EXHORTATIONS  TO  THE  CANDIDATES 


Let  us  pray. 
0!  INVINCIBLE  God,  who  secst  all  things! 
Eienial  LiErhi,  before  whom  all  darkness  is 
liiiht,  and  in  comparison  with  wiiom,  every 
other  lis;ht  is  but  darkness  !  Tlie  weak  eyes 
cl  our  understanding  can  not  bear  the  open 
and  full  rays  of  thy  inaccessible  light;  and 
yet,  without  some  glimpses  of  thai  light 
from  heaven,  we  can  never  direct  our  steps, 
nor  proceed  toward  that  country  which  is  the 
liabitation  ol'  light.  May  it  therefore  please 
thee,  0  Father  of  Lights,  to  send  forth  thy 
light  and  thy  truth,  that  they  may  lead  us  di- 
rectly to  thy  holy  mountain.  Thou  art  good, 
and  the  fountain  of  goodness;  give  us  under- 
standing, that  we  may  keep  thy  precepts. 
That  part  of  our  past  lives,  which  we  have 
lost  in  pursuing  shadoAVs,  is  enough,  and,  in- 
deed, too  much  :  bring  back  our  souls  into 
the  paths  of  life,  and  let  the  wonderful  sweet- 
ness thereof,  which  far  exceeds  all  the  pleas- 


ures of  this  earth,  powerfully,  i,  et  plcav 
antly,  preserve  us  from  being  drawn  aside 
thcrelVom  by  any  temptation  from  sin  or 
the  world.  Purify,  we  pray  thee,  our  souls 
from  all  impure  imaginations,  that  thy  most 
beautiful  and  holy  image  may  be  again 
renewed  within  us,  and,  by  contemplating 
thy  glorious  perfections,  we  may  feel  daily 
improved  within  us  that  Divine  similitude, 
the  perfection  whereof  we  hope  will  at  last 
make  us  for  ever  happy  in  that  full  and  be- 
atific vision  we  aspire  after.  Till  this  most 
blessed  day  break,  and  the  shadows  fly  away, 
I  Jet  thy  Spirit  be  continually  with  us,  and  may 
j  we  feel  the  powerful  effects  of  bis  Divine 
I  grace  constantly  directing  and  supporting  our 
steps;  that  all  our  endeavors,  not  only  in  this 
j  society,  but  throughout  the  whole  remaining 
part  of  our  lives,  may  serve  to  promote  the 
honor  of  thy  blessed  name,  through  Je£.us 
Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 


EXHORTATIONS 

TO  THE  CANDIDATES  FOR  THE  DEGREE  OF  MASTER  OF  ARTS,  IN  THE  UNIVERSIl  If  OP 

EDINBURGH. 


EXHORTATION  I. 

Were  I  allowed  to  speak  freely  what  I 
sincerely  think  of  most  of  the  affairs  of  human 
life,  even  those  that  are  accounted  of  the  high- 
est importance,  and  transacted  wiih  the  great- 
est eagerness  and  bustle,  I  should  be  apt  to 
say,  Magno  conalu  magnas  nugas — that  a 
great  noise  is  made  about  trifles.  But  if  you 
should  take  this  amiss,  as  a  little  unseasona- 
ble upon  the  present  occasion,  and  an  insult 
upon  your  scjlemnity,  I  hope  you  will  the 
more  easily  forgive  me,  that  1  place  in  the 
same  rank  with  this  philosophical  convention 
ol  \ours,  the  most  famous  councils  and  gen- 
eral assemblies  of  princes  and  great  men  ;  and 
say  of  their  golden  crowns,  as  well  as  your 
crowns  of  laurel,  that  they  are  Kamov  axias  ovk  an 
Tipiiuitriu — things  of  no  value,  and  not  worth  the 
purchasing.  Even  the  triumphal,  inaugural, 
or  nuptial  processions  of  the  greatest  kings 
and  generals  of  armies,  with  whatever  pomp 
and  magnificence,  as  well  as  art,  they  may 
be  set  off,  they  are,  after  all,  so  far  true  rep- 
resentations of  their  false,  painted,  and  tinsel 
happiness,  that,  while  we  look  at  them,  they 
fly  away  :  and,  in  a  very  short  time,  they  are 
followed  by  their  funeral  processions,  which 
are  the  triumphs  of  death  over  those  who 
have,  themselves,  triumphed  during  their 
lives.  The  scenes  are  shifted,  the  actors  also 
disappear;  and,  in  the  same  manner,  the 
greatest  shows  of  this  vain  world  likewise 

f)ass  away.  Let  us,  that  we  may  lop  off'  the 
uxuriant  i)fanches  of  our  vines,  lake  a  nearer , 


view  of  this  object,  and  remember  that  what 
we  now  call  a  laurel  crown,  will  soon  be  fol- 
lowed by  cypress  wreaths.  It  will  be  also 
proper  to  consider  how  many,  who,  in  their 
time,  were  em])loycd  as  we  are  now,  have 
long  ago  acted  their  parts,  and  are  now  con- 
signed to  a  long  oblivion  :  as  also,  what  vast 
numbers  of  the  rising  generation  are  following 
us  at  the  heels,  and,  as  it  were,  pushing  us  for- 
ward to  the  same  land  of  forgetfulncss  !  who, 
while  they  are  hurrying  us  away,  are,  at  the 
same  time,  hastening  thither  themselves.  All 
that  we  see,  all  that  we  do,  and  all  that  we  are, 
are  but  mere  dreams ;  and  if  we  are  not  sensible 
of  this  truth,  it  is  because  we  are  still  asleep : 
none  but  minds  that  are  awake  can  discern  it ; 
they,  and  they  only,  can  perceive  and  despise 
these  cffiraiyfrnra — illusions  of  the  night.  In 
the  meantime,  nothing  hinders  us  from  sub- 
mitting to  these,  and  other  such  customary 
formalities,  provided  our  doing  it  interfere 
not  with  matters  of  much  greater  importance, 
and  prospects  of  a  different  and  more  exalted 
nature.  What  is  it,  pray,  to  which  with  the 
most  ardent  wishes  you  have  been  aspiring 
throughout  the  whole  course  of  ihe^e  last  f;  ui 
years  ?  Here  you  have  a  cap  and  a  title  and 
nothing  at  all  more 

But  perhaps  taking  this  amiss,  you  secretly 
blame  me  in  your  hearts,  and  wish  me  to  con 
gratulate  you  upon  the  honor  you  have  ob- 
tained. I  chceri'ully  comply  with  your  desire, 
and  am  willing  to  explain  myself.  These 
small  presents  are  not  the  principal  reward 
of  your  labors,  nor  the  chief  end  of  j  our  stud- 


FOR  THE  DEHREE  OF  MASTER  OF  ARTS. 


709 


ies ;  but  hoaorary  marks  and  badges  of  that  ] 
erudition  and  knowledge  wherewith  your 
minds  have  been  stored  by  the  uninterrupted 
labors  of  four  whole  years.  But  whatever  at 
tainraents  in  learning  you  have  readied,  I 
would  have  you  seriously  to  refleci,  how  in- 
considerable they  are,  and  how  little  they  dif- 
fer from  noihing.  Nay,  if  what  we  know,  is 
compared  with  wiiat  we  know  not,  it  will  be 
fouad  even  vastly  less  than  notliing  :  at  least, 
it  is  an  argument  of  little  knowledge,  and  the 
sign  of  a  vain  and  weak  mind,  to  be  puffed 
up  with  an  overbearing  opinion  of  our  own 
knowledge  ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  an 
evidence  of  a  great  proficiency  in  knowledge, 
to  be  sensible  of  our  ignorance  and  inability. 
•  He  is  the  wisest  man,"  says  Plato,  "  who 
knows  himself  to  be  very  ill  qualified  for  the 
attainment  of  wisdom."*  Whatever  be  in 
this,  we  often  fin^  ihe  sciences  and  arts  which 
you  cultivate,  to  be  useless  and  entirely  bar- 
ren, with  regard  to  the  advantages  of  life; 
and,  generally  speaking,  those  other  profes- 
sions that  are  illiterate  and  illiberal,  nay,  even 
unlawful,  meet  with  better  treatment,  and 
greater  encouragement  than  what  we  call  the 
liberal  arts.  "  He  that  ventures  upon  the  sea, 
is  enriched  by  his  voyage  :  he  that  engages  in 
war,  glitters  with  gold  ;  the  mean  parasite 
lies  drunk  on  a  rich  bed  ;  and  even  he  who 
endeavors  to  corrupt  married  women  is  re- 
warded for  iiis  villany  :  learning  alone  starves 
in  tattered  rags,  and  invokes  the  abandoned 
arts  in  vaiu."t 

But,  as  sometimes  the  learned  meet  with  a 
better  fate,  you,  young  gentlemen,  I  imagine, 
entertain  belter  hopes  with  regard  to  your 
fortune,  nor  would  I  discourage  them  ;  yet,  I 
would  gladly  moderate  them  a  little  by  this 
wholesome  advice  :  lean  not  upon  a  broken 
reed,  neither  let  any  one  who  values  his 
peace,  his  real  dignity,  and  his  satisfaction, 
give  himself  up  to  hopes  that  are  uncertain, 
fra"'"  and  deceitful.  The  human  race  are, 
perhapr,,  the  only  creatures  that  by  this  means 
become  a  torment  to  themselves  :  for,  as  we 
always  grasp  at  fuiurily,  we  vainly  promise 
ourselves  many  and  great  things,  in  which, 
as  commonly  happens,  being  for  the  most 
part  disappointed,  we  must,  of  necessiiy,  pay 
for  our  foolish  pleasure  with  a  i)ro|>ortionate 
degree  of  pain.  Thus,  the  greatest  part  ol' 
mankind  find  the  whole  of  liiis  wretched  life 
chequered  with  delusive  joys  and  real  tor- 
ments, ill-grounded  hopes  and  fears,  equally 
imaginary  ;  amid  these,  we  live  in  continual 
suspense,  and  die  so  too. 

But  a  few,  alas  !  a  few  only,  yet  some,  who 
think  more  justly,  having  set  their  hearts 

*  t)uri75  a't<\t'-yrnToi  uarii  tyvi.iKtv  on  ov6sv  li  n^toi  tor 
Wf6(  ao'P'iav, — Phw.o.  ApoL.  SoCK. 

t  Qui  pclago  cndit,  iii.ig<M)  se  ftrnoro  tollit : 
Qui  jjiiijtius  ot  pr  i  ciiigitur  auro  : 

Vilis  ;i(|iil;it(>r  piciO  jurcl  ffiriiis  oMro  ; 
Kt  qui  solicit:!!  tiii|  las,       prifinia  p'ccat. 
Sola  priiinosis  horrct  liiriMidia  paniiis, 
At(/in'  inoj)i  lingua  destrtas  iuvocat  artes 


upon  heavenly  enjoyments,  take  pleasure  in 
despising  with  a  proper  greatness  of  mind, 
and  tramplinar  upon  the  fading  enjoyments  of 
this  world.  These  make  it  their  only  study, 
and  exert  their  utmost  efforts,  that,  having 
the  more  Divine  part  of  their  composition 
weaned  from  the  world  aiTd  the  Hesh,  they 
may  be  brougiit  to  a  resemblance  and  union 
with  the  holy  and  supreme  God,  the  Father 
of  spirits,  by  purity,  piety,  and  an  habitual 
contemplation  of  Divine  objects.  And  this, 
to  be  sure,  is  the  principal  thing,  with  a  no- 
ble ambition  whereof  I  would  have  your 
minds  inflamed  ;  and  whatever  profession  or 
manner  of  life  you  devote  yourselves  to.  it  is 
my  earnest  exhortation  and  request,  that  you 
would  make  tiiis  your  constant  and  principal 
study.  Fly,  if  you  have  any  regard  to  my  ad- 
vice, fly  far  from  that  controversial,  conten- 
tious sciiool-divinity,  which,  in  fact,  consists 
in  fruitless  disputes  about  words,  and  rather 
deserves  the  name  of  vain  and  foolish  talk- 
ing. 

Almost  all  mankind  are  constantly  catch- 
ing at  something  more  than  they  possess,  and 
torment  themselves  in  vain.  Nor  is  our  rest 
to  be  found  among  these  enjoyments  of  the 
world,  where  all  things  are  covered  with  a 
deluge  of  vanity,  as  with  a  flood  of  fluctua- 
ting, restless  waters;  and  tiie  soul  flying  about, 
looking  in  vain  for  a  place  on  which  it  may 
set  its  foot,  most  unhappily  loses  its  time,  its 
labor,  and  itself  at  last ;  like  the  birds  in  the 
days  of  the  flood,  which  "  having  long  sought 
for  land,  till  their  strength  was  quite  exhaust- 
ed, fell  down  at  last,  and  perished  in  the  wa- 
ters."* 

0  !  how  greatly  preferable  to  these  bushes, 
and  briers,  and  thorns,  are  the  deliglitl'ul 
fields  of  the  gospel,  wherein  pleasure  and 
pr<jfit  are  agreeably  mixed  togeiiier,  whence 
you  may  learn  the  way  to  everlasting  peace; 
that  poverty  of  spirit  which  is  the  only  true 
riches,  that  [)urity  of  heart  which  is  our  great- 
est beauty,  and  that  inexi)ressible  satisfaction 
which  attends  the  exercise  of  charity,  humili- 
ty, and  meekness!  When  your  minds  are 
stored  and  adorned  with  these  graces,  they 
will  enjoy  the  most  pleasant  traiuiuillity,  even 
amid  the  noise  and  tumults  of  this  present 
life  ;  and  you  will  be,  to  use  the  words  of 
Tertiillian,  canrliil'i/es  for  eti.rnilyf  a  title  in- 
finitely more  ijloriousand  sublime  than  what 
has  been  this  day  cunl'crred  upon  you.  And 
that  great  and  last  day,  which  is  so  much 
dreaded  by  the  slaves  of  this  present  world, 
will  be  the  most  happy  and  auspicious  to  you  ; 
as  it  will  deliver  you  from  a  dark,  disntal 
prison,  and  place  you  in  the  regions  of  ;he 
most  full  and  marvellous  light. 

Lei  u.f  pray. 

Most  exalted  (rod,  who  hast  alone  created 
and  dost  govern  this  whole  frame,  and  all  th* 

•  Qu'rsitisf|ue  diu  ttTris  ubi  sistfre  dptiii, 
In  laare  lassatis  volucris  vaga  decidii  .Uis- 


710 


EXHORTATIONS  TO  THE  CANDIDATES 


inlirthitaiits   thereof,   visible   and  invisible, 
w'juse  name  is  alone  wonderliil.  and  to  be 
ct  lebrated  with  tbe  highest  praise,  as  it  is  in- 
deed above  all  praise  and  admiration.  Let 
the  heavens,  llie  earth,  and  all  the  elements 
praise  thee.    Let  darkness,   lighi,  all  the 
returns  of  days  and  years,  and  all  the  va- 
rieties and  vicissitudes  of  thiiifis,  praise  thee. 
Let  the  angels  praise  thee,  the  archangels, 
and  all  the  blessed  court  of  heaven,  whose 
very  happiness  it  is,  that  they  are  constantly 
.?in])loyed  in  celebrating  thy  praises.  We 
"onfess,  0  Lord,  that  we  are  of  all  creatures 
'.he  most  unworthy  to  praise  thee,  yet,  of  all 
others,  we  are  under  the  greatest  obligations 
10  do  it :  nay,  theinore  unworthy  we  are,  our 
obligation  is  so  much  the  greater.    From  this 
duty,  however  unqualified  we  may  be,  we 
can  by  no  means  abstain,  nor,  indeed,  ought 
we.    Let  our  souls  bless  thee,  and  all  that  is 
within  us  praise  thy  holy  name,  who  forgiv- 
est  all  our  sins,  and  healest  all  our  diseases; 
who  deliverest  our  souls  from  destruction,  and 
crovvnest  them  with  bounty  and  tender  mer- 
cies.   Thou  searchest  the  heart,  0  Lord,  and 
perfectly  knowest  the  most  intimate  recesses 
of  it :  reject  not  those  prayers  which  thouper- 
ceivesl  to  be  the  voice  and  the  wishes  of  the 
heart.    Now,  it  is  the  great  request  of  our 
hearts,  unless  they  always  deceive  us,  that 
they  may  be  weaned  from  all  earthly  and  per- 
ishing enjoyments;  and  if  there  is  anything 
to  which  they  cleave  with  more  than  ordina- 
ry force,  may  they  be  pulled  away  from  it  by 
thy  Almighty  hand,  that  they  may  be  joined 
to  thee  for  ever  in  an  inseparable  marriage- 
covenant.    And  in  our  own  behalf,  we  have 
nothing  more  to  ask.    We  only  add,  in  be- 
half of  thy  church,  that  it  may  be  protected 
under  the  shadow  of  tliy  wings,  and  every- 
where, throughout  the  world,  watered  by  thy 
heavenly  dew,  thai  the  spirit  and  heat  of 
worldly  hatred  against  it  may  be  cooled,  and 
its  intestine  divisions,  whereby  it  is  much 
more  grievously  scorched,  extinguished  :  bless 
<  this  nation,  this  city,  and  this  university,  in 
which  we  beg  thou  wouldst  be  pleased  to  re- 
side, as  a  garden  dedicated  to  thy  name, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen 


EXHORTATION  II. 

Would  you  have  me  to  speak  the  truth 
with  freedom  and  brevity  ?  The  whole 
world  is  a  kind  of  stage,  and  its  inhabitants 
mere  actors.  As  to  this  little  farce  of  yours, 
it  is  now  very  near  a  conclusion,  and  you  are 
upon  the  point  of  applying  to  ilie  spectators 
for  their  applause.  Should  any  supercilious- 
ly decline  paying  this  small  iribuie  fipmni'], 
you  surely  may,  with  great  ease,  retort  their 
contempt  upon  t'leinsel ves,  merely  by  saying. 
Let  your  severity  fall  heavy  on  those  who 
admire  tneir  own  performances:  as  to  this 
affair  ol  ours,  we  know  it  is  nothing  at  all. 


For  I  will  not  allow  myself  to  doubt  but  fuu 
are  very  sensible,  that  there  is  indeed  noih- 
ing  in  it. 

It  Would,  to  be  sure,  be  very  improper,  es- 
pecially as  the  evening  approaches,  to  de- 
tain you,  and  my  other  hearers,  with  a  long 
and  tedious  discourse,  Avhen  you  are  already 
more  than  enough  i'attgued,  and  almost  quite 
tired  out  with  hearing.  I  shall  therefore  on- 
ly put  you  in  mind  of  one  thing,  and  that  in 
a  few  words.  Let  not  thissol(;mn  toy\! ii:ri,tyi'n], 
however  agreeable  to  youthful  minds,  so  far 
impose  upon  you,  as  to  set  you  a  dream- 
ing of  great  advantages  and  pleasures  to  be 
met  with  in  this  new  period  of  life  you  are 
entering  upon.  Look  round  you,  if  you 
please,  and  take  a  near  and  exact  survey  of 
all  the  different  stations  of  life  that  are  set 
before  you.  If  you  enter  upon  any  of  the  sta- 
tions of  active  life,  what  is  this  but  jumping 
into  a  bush  of  thorns,  where  you  can  have  no 
1  hope  of  enjoving  (juiet,  and  yet  can  not  easily 
get  out  again?  But  if  you  rather  choose  to 
enter  upon  some  new  branch  of  science,  alas  ! 
what  a  small  measure  of  knowledge  is  to  bt 
thus  obtained,  with  what  vast  labor  is  even 
that  little  to  be  purchased,  and  how  often, 
after  immense  toil  and  difficulty,  will  it  b« 
found  that  Truth  is  still  at  a  distance,  and 
not  yet  extracted  out  of  i.he  well.*  We  in- 
deed believe  that  the  soul  breathed  into  man, 
when  he  was  first  made,  was  pure,  full  oi 
1  light,  and  every  way  worthy  oi  its  divine  ori- 
ginal. But  ah  !  the  Father  of  mankind,  how 
soon,  and  how  much  was  he  changed  from 
what  he  was  at  first  !  He  foolishly  gave  ear 
to  the  fatal  seducer,  and  that  very  moment 
was  seized  upon  by  death,  whereby  he  at 
once  lost  his  i)urity,  his  light,  or  truth,  and, 
together  with  himself,  ruined  us  also. 

Now,  since  that  period,  what  do  you  com- 
monly meet  with  among  men  of  wisdom  and 
learning,  as  they  would  wish  to  be  account- 
ed, but  fighting  and  bickering  in  the  dark  ? 
And  while  they  dispute,  with  the  greatest 
heat,  but  at  random,  concerning  the  truth, 
that  truth  escapes  out  of  their  hands,  and  in- 
stead of  it,  both  parties  are  put  up  with  vain 
shadows  or  phantoms  of  it,  and,  according  to 
the  proverb,  embrace  a  cloud  instead  of  Juno. 

But  since  we  are  forced  to  own,  tliat  even 
the  most  contemptilile  and  minutest  things  in 
nature,  often  put  all  our  philosophical  subtle- 
ty to  a  nonplus,  what  ignorance  and  foolish 
presumption  is  it  for  us  to  aim  at  ransacking 
the  most  hidden  recesses  of  Divine  things, 
and  boldly  attempt  to  scan  the  Divine  decrees, 
and  the  other  most  profound  mysteries  of  reli- 
gion, by  the  imperfect  and  scanty  measures 
of  our  understandings!  Whither  would 
the  presumption  of  man  hurry  him,  while  it 
prompts  him  to  pry  into  every  secret  and  hid- 
den thing,  and  leave  nothing  at  all  unat- 
tempted  ! 

As  for  you,  young  gentlemen,  especially 

•  'Ek  T(ji  PvOoi  )i  oAijOcia. 


FOR  THE  DEGREE  OF  MASTER  OF  ARTS. 


711 


thosf  of  you  that  intend  to  devote  yourselves 
to  theolog-ical  studies,  it  is  my  earnest  ad- 
vice and  request  to  you,  that  you  fly  far 
from  that  infectious  curiosity  which  would 
lead  you  into  the  depths  of  that  controversial, 
contentious  tiieoloo^y,  which  if  any  doctrine 
at  all  deserves  the  name,  may  truly  be  term- 
ed, science  falselij  so  called.  And  that  you 
may  not,  in  this  respect,  be  imposed  upon  by 
the  common  reputation  of  acuteness  and 
learning,  I  confidently  affirm,  that  to  under- 
stand and  be  master  of  those  triflinnf  disputes 
that  prevail  in  the  schools,  is  an  evidence  of 
a  very  mean  understanding  :  while,  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  an  argument  of  a  genius  truly 
great,  entirely  to  slisjiit  and  despise  them, 
and  to  walk  in  the  lisht  of  pure  and  peacea- 
ble truth,  which  is  far  above  the  dark  and 
cloudy  region  of  controversial  disputes.  But 
you  will  say,  It  is  necessary,  in  order  to  the 
defence  of  truth,  to  oppose  errors,  and  blunt 
the  weapons  of  sophists.  Be  it  so  :  but  our 
disputes  ousrhi  to  be  managed  with  few 
words,  for  naked  truth  is  most  effectual  for 
Us  own  defence,  and  when  it  is  once  well 
understood,  its  natural  light  dispels  all  the 
darkness  of  error.  For  all  things  that  are 
reproved,  arc  made  manifest  bi/  the  liahl, 
saith  the  apostle.  Your  favorite  philosopher 
has  told  us,  that  "  what  is  straight  discovers 
both  rectitude  and  obliquity."  And  Clemens 
Alexandrinus  has  very  justly  observed,  that 
"  the  ancient  philosophers  were  not  greatly 
disposed  to  disputes  or  doubting  ;  but  the 
latter  philosophers  among  the  Greeks,  out  of 
a  vain  desire  to  enhance  their  reputation,  en- 
gaged so  far  in  wrangling  and  contention, 
that  their  works  became  quite  useless  and 
trifling."* 

There  is  but  one  useful  controversy  or  dis- 
pute, one  sort  of  war,  most  noble  in  its  nature, 
and  most  worthy  of  a  Christian,  and  this,  not 
to  be  carried  on  against  enemies  at  a  great 
distance,  but  such  as  are  bred  within  our 
own  breasts  :  against  those,  it  is  most  reason- 
able to  wage  an  endless  war,  and  them  it  is 
our  duty  to  persecute  to  death.  Let  us  all, 
children,  you  'g  men,  and  old,  exert  ourselves 
vigorously  in  this  warfare.  Let  our  vices 
die  before  us,  that  death  may  not  find  us  in- 
dolent, defiled,  and  wallowing  in  the  mire  ; 
for  then  it  will  be  most  truly,  and  to  our 
great  misery,  death  to  us:  whereas,  to  those 
sanctified  souls  who  are  conformed  to  Christ, 
and  conquerors  by  his  means,  it  rather  is  to 
be  called  life,  as  it  delivers  them  from  their 
wanderings  and  vices,  from  all  kinds  of  evils, 
and  frora  that  death  which  is  final  and  eter- 
nal. 

Let  us  pray. 

Eternal  God,  who  art  constantly  adored 
DV  thrones  and  powers,  by  seraphims  and 

*  'On  ht  fTiaXai'jTaroi  t'ih/  <piXoaorl>o)v  ov<H  Im  rd  ajiot- 
BoTCiv  <t«t  dvoocTv  LpcprwTo  aXX'  o!  tim  wao'  "EAAijo-i  i>cii- 
rifloi,  mv  tpiXoTiiiias  Ktvijs  xai  ireXavf  tXcktikm^ 
ina  ««<  loiTifif,  fie  Tijt  i^pnaro  tic^ayovrai  ^Auapiut/. 


cherubims,  we  confess  that  thou  art  mos' 
worthy  to  be  praised  ;  but  we,  of  all  others,  are 
the  most  unworthy  to  be  employed  in  show- 
mz  forth  thy  praise.  How  can  polluted  bod- 
ies, and  impure  souls,  which,  taken  together, 
are  nothing  but  mere  sinks  of  sin,  praise  thee, 
the  pure  and  holy  majesty  of  heaven  ?  Yet, 
how  can  these  bodies  which  thou  hast  won- 
derfully formed,  and  these  souls  which  thou 
hast  inspired,  which  owe  entirely  t'^  ihin^ 
unmerited  favor,  all  that  they  are,  all  tha 
they  possess,  and  all  they  hope  for,  forbear 
praising  thee,  their  wise  and  bountiful  Crea- 
tor and  Father  ?  Let  our  souls,  therefore, 
and  ail  that  is  within  us,  bless  thy  holy 
name:  yea,  let  all  our  bones  say,  0  Lord, 
who  is  like  unto  thee  ;  who  is  like  unto  thee  ? 
Far  be  it,  most  gracious  Father,  from  our 
hearts,  to  harbor  anything  that  is  displeas- 
insr  to  thee  :  let  them  be,  as  it  were,  temples 
dedicated  to  thy  service,  thoroughly  purged 
IVom  every  idol  and  inia<je,  from  every  object 
of  impure  love  and  eartlily  affection.  Let 
our  most  gracious  King  and  Redeemer  dwell 
and  reign  within  us.  May  he  take  full  pos- 
session of  us  by  his  Spirit,  and  govern  all  our 
actions.  May  he  extend  his  [)caceable  and 
saving  kingdom  throughout  the  whole  habi- 
table world,  from  the  risinir  of  the  sun  to  the 
aroiiiff  down  thereof  Let  the  nations  ac- 
knowledge their  King,  and  the  isles  be  glad 
in  him  :  and  particularly,  that  which  we  in- 
habit, with  those  in  its  neiijhborhood.  And, 
that  they  may  be  truly  blessed  in  him,  may 
they  daily  submit  more  perfectly  and  dutiful- 
ly to  his  golden  sceptre,  and  the  holy  laws  o< 
his  <ros|)el  !  Bless  this  nation  and  city,  and 
this  our  University;  may  it  be  continually 
watered  with  the  dew  of  thy  Spirit,  and 
plentifully  produce  fruit  acceptable  in  thy 
sight,  throttgh  Jesus  Chris;  our  Lord.  Allien. 


EXHORTATION  III. 

This  day,  which  has  been  the  objept  of 
your  earnest  wishes  throu<rhout  the  course  of 
four  whole  years,  is  now  almost  over,  and 
hastenins;  to  a  close.  What  has  it  produced 
for  your  advantage  ?  Can  he  that  has  reaped 
most  successfully  of  you  all,  say,  he  has  filled 
his  arms  with  sheaves?  Though  ]iossibly 
you  would  "xcuse  me  to  express  myself  with 
great  frcedo  i  on  this  occasion,  yet  I  will  not 
take  the  lil/erty  to  de])reciate  too  much  your 
past  studies,  the  Sfx'inmeiis  you  have  fjiven 
to-day  of  your  abilities,  and  the  degree  that 
has  been  conferred  U[)on  you.  This,  at  least, 
I  imagine,  1  may  say,  without  ofTence,  the 
most  of  those  things  we  greedily  catch  at, 
and  labor  most  earnestly  to  obtain,  ami  con- 
sequently, even  your  philosojihy  is  a  real  an<{ 
demonstrative  truth  of  that  great  paradox, 
that  there  is  a  vacuity  in  the  nature  of  thin<rs. 
And,  in  truth,  \.n\v  great  is  that  vacuity,  see- 
ing even  the  human  race  is  no  inconsiderable 
part  of  it  !    Though  this  day  is  marked  with 


»12 


EXHORTATIONS  TO  THE  CANDIDATES 


more  t'lan  ottlinary  solt-mnity,  it  is,  aftor  all, 
but  the  cunclusiun  and  ptTiod  of  a  nuiiihor  of 
days  that  have  lieen  idly  spent,  and  is  iiselC 
clapsnii;  to  little  or  no  purpose,  as  well  as"tlie 
rest,  "ut  O  !  how  oflorious  must  thai  blessed 
day  be,  which  all  inuitied  souls,  and  such  as 
are  dear  to  God,  earnestly  Umg  for,  lhrou<;h- 
out  the  whole  of  this  perishing  life,  and  con- 
stantly wait,  with  a  kind  of  impaiience,  un- 
;l  it  dawn,  and  the  shadows  fly  away. 

I  am,  indeed,  of  opinion,  that  those  of  you 
who  think  most  justly,  will  readily  own,  your 
attainments,  hitherto,  are  of  no  great  moment. 
But  possibly,  henceforth  you  intend  to  begin 
life,  as  it  were,  anew:  you  aspire  to  greater 
matters,  and  entertain  views  worthy  of  hu- 
man nature  ;  you  already  begin  to  live,  and 
to  be  wise  ;  you  form  desires,  and  conceive 
hopes  of  rising  to  arts,  riches,  and  honors. 
All  this  is  very  well.  Yet,  there  is  one  con- 
sideration I  would  have  you  to  admit  among 
these  ingenious  projects  and  designs.  What 
if  death  should  come  upon  you,  and,  looking 
with  an  envious  eye  upon  this  towering  pros- 
pect, put  a  stop  to  a  project  that  extends  it- 
self so  far  into  futurity,  "and,  like  a  spider's 
web,  entirely  destroy  it  with  a  gentle  breath 
*  of  wind  ?     Nor  would  this  be  any  prodi- 

gy, or  indeed  an  exiraordinary  event,  but  the 
common  fate  of  almost  all  mankind.  "We 
are  always  resolving  to  live,  and  yet  never 
set  about  life  in  good  earnest."*  Archime- 
des was  not  singular  in  itis  fate  ;  but  a  great 
part  of  mankind  die  unexpectedly,  while  they 
are  poring  upon  the  figures  they  have  describ- 
ed in  the  sand.  0  wretched  mortals!  who, 
having  condemned  themselves,  as  it  were,  to 
the  mines,  seem  to  make  it  their  chief  study 
to  prevent  their  ever  regaining  their  libertv. 
Hence,  new  employments  are  assumed  in  the 
place  of  old  ones  :  and,  as  ihe  Roman  philo- 
sopher truly  expresses  it,  "  one  hope  succr'eds 
another,  one  instance  of  ambition  makes  way 
for  another  ;  and  we  never  desire  an  end  of 
our  misery,  but  only  that  it  may  change  its 
outward  form."t  When  we  cease  to  be  can- 
didates, and  to  fatigue  ourselves  in  soliciting 
interest,  we  begin  to  sive  our  votes  and  inte- 
rest to  those  who  solicit  us  in  their  turn. 
When  we  are  wearied  of  the  trouble  of  pros- 
ei;uting  crimes  at  the  bar,  we  commence 
judges  ourselves  ;  and  he  who  is  grown  old 
in  the  management  of  other  men's  affairs  for 
money,  is  at  last  emjjloyed  in  improving  his 
own  wealth.  At  the  age  of  fifty,  says  one,  . 
will  retire,  and  take  my  ease  ;  or  the  sixtieth 
year  of  my  life  shall  entirely  disengage  me 
from  public  offices  and  business.  Fjol !  art 
thou  not  ashamed  to  reserve  to  tiiyself  the 
last  remains  and  dregs  of  life?  Who  will 
stand  surety  that  thou  slialt  live  so  long  ? 
And  wliat  immense  folly  is  it,  so  far  to  forget 
mortality,  as  to  think  of  beginning  to  live  at 

*  VicUiros  agimiis  semper,  nec  vivimiis  iinqiiam. 

t  Sjjps  spein  excipit,  ainbitimiem  ambiti",  ct  mis- 
eriaruiri  noii  q  xritiir  finis  sed  si;hema  taiitum  mu-  ■ 
Utur.  I 


that  period  of  years  to  which  a  few  only  at- 
tain ! 

As  for  you,  young  gentlemen,  I  heartily 
wish  you  may  think  more  justly.  Let  your 
souls,  as  it  were,  retire  into  themselves,  and 
dwell  at  home  ;  and  having  shaken  off  the  in- 
fles  that  make  a  bustle  and  noise  arouiul  you, 
consider  seriously  that  the  remaining  jiart  of 
your  life  is  long  only  in  one  respect  (and  ia 
this,  indeed,  its  length  may  be  justly  com- 
jjlained  of),  that  it  is  fraught  with  every  sort 
of  misery  and  afllicti(  n,  and  has  nothing 
agreeable  in  it,  but  the  study  of  heavenly 
wisdom  alone  ;  for  everything  else  is  vanity. 
Look  about  you,  and  see  whether  there  is 
anything  worthy  of  your  affection,  and  wheth- 
er everything  you  see  does  not  rather  excite 
your  indignation  and  aversion.  At  home,  are 
contentions  and  disputes  ;  abroad  in  the  fields, 
robbers  ;  clamor  and  noise  at  the  bar  ;  wick- 
edness in  the  camp  :  hypocrisy  in  the  church  ; 
and  vexation  or  lamentable  mistakes  every- 
where. Among  the  rich  and  great,  there  are 
false  and  inconstant  friendships,  bitter  enmi- 
ties, envy,  fraud,  and  falsehood  ;  and  cares,  in 
great  numbers,  flutter  round  the  most  stately 
and  sumptuous  palaces. 

What  a  considerable  part  of  mankind  are 
strugglinjr  with  open  and  sharp  afflictions  ! 
To  whatever  side  you  turn  yourself,  what  do 
you  commonly  hear  hut  lamentation  and 
mourning  ?  How  many  complaints  of  the 
poor,  that  are  distressed  for  want  of  daily 
bread,  or  drag  a  most  wretched  life  under  the 
grievous  oppression  of  powerful  tyrants  !  How 
frequent  are  the  groans  of  the  sick  and  lan- 
guishing !  How  great  the  multitude  of  those 
who  lament  their  friends  and  relations  car- 
ried off  by  death,  and  will  themselves,  in  a 
short  time,  and  for  the  same  reason,  be  la- 
mented by  others  !  And,  to  conclude,  how  in- 
numerable are  the  miseries  and  afflictions  of 
various  kinds,  that  seem  alternately  to  re-echo 
to  one  another !  Can  it  be  any  wonder,  then, 
that  a  life  of  this  kind  should  sometimes  force, 
even  Irom  a  wise  man,  such  expressions  of 
sorrow  and  concern  as  the  following:  "O 
mother,  why  didst  thou  bring  me  forth  to  be 
oppressed  with  afflictions  and  sorrows  ?  Why 
didst  thou  introduce  me  into  a  life  full  of  bri- 
ers and  thorns  ?"* 

But  you  are  now  philosophers,  and  amid 
these  dismal  calamities,  you  comfort  your- 
selves  with  the  inward  and  hidden  riches  of 
wisdom,  and  the  sciences  you  have  acquired 
The  sciences  !  Tell  us  in  what  part  of  e 
earth  they  are  to  be  found.  Let  us  kWjvr, 
pray,  where  they  dwell,  that  we  may  flock 
thither  in  great  numbers.  I  know,  indeed, 
where  there  is  abundance  of  noise,  with  vain 
and  idle  words,  and  a  jarring  of  opinions  be- 
tween contending  disputants;  I  know  where 
ignorance,  under  the  disguise  of  a  gown  and 
a  beard,  has  obtained  the  title  of  science;  but 
where  true  knowledge  is  to  be  found  I  know 

Ti'iTTj  fit  Tothc         5t3<as  aKafOoij/Spoi, 


For  '^HF  DEGREE  OF  MASTER  OF  ARTS. 


713 


flot.  We  grope  in  the  dark,  and  though  it  is 
truth  only  we  are  in  quest  of,  we  fall  into  in- 
numerable errors.  But  whatever  may  be  our 
case  with  respect  to  the  knowledge  of  naiure, 
as  to  that  of  heavenly  and  Divine  things,  let 
us  cheerfully  embrace  thai  rich  present  which 
Infinite  Goodness  has  made  us,  and  be  thank- 
ful that  the  (lay-spring  from  onhigh  hath  vis- 
tied  us.  "  Because  there  was  no  wisdom  on 
the  earth,"  says  Lactaniius,  "  He  sent  a  teach- 
er from  heaven."*  Him  let  us  follow  as  our 
guide :  for  he  who  follows  his  direction  shall 
not  walk  in  darkness.  ^ 

Let  us  pray. 

Infinite,  Eternal  Creator  and  King  of  heav- 
en  and  earth,  bodies  and  spirits,  who,  being 
unmoved  thyself,  movest  all  things,  and 
changest  them  at  thy  pleasure,  while  thou 
remainest  thyself  altogether  unchangeable  ; 
who  supportest  all  things  by  thy  powerful 
hand,  and  governest  them  by  thy  nod,  the 
greatest  as  well  as  the  least ;  so  that  the 
greatest  are  no  burden  to  thee,  nor  dost  thou 
contemn  the  least.  Behold  !  the  nations  be- 
fore thee  are  as  the  drop  of  the  bucket,  and 
like  the  small  dust  of  the  balance;  and  these 
isles  of  ours,  with  all  the  rest  in  the  world, 
are,  in  thy  sight,  but  a  very  little  thing.  Yet 
thou  deignest  to  be  present  in  our  assemblies, 
and  take  ncHice  of  our  affairs,  which  are  very 
inconsiderable.  Let  our  souls  adore  thee,  and 
fall  down,  with  the  greatest  humility,  at  the  ' 
footstool  of  thy  throne,  continually  entreating 
thy  grace,  and  c(jnstantly  offering  thee  glory. 
Our  praises  add  nothing  to  thee;  but  they  exalt 
ourselves,  enhance  our  happiness,  and  unite  us 
with  the  society  of  angels  ;  yet  thou  receivest 
them  with  a  gracious  hand,  as  most  accepta- 
ble sacrifices,  and  incense  of  a  sweet-smelling 
savor.  Let  us  celebrate  thee,  O  Lord,  who  ' 
art  great,  and  greatly  to  be  praised.  Let  all 
nations  praise  thee,  from  the  rising  of  the  sun 
to  the  going  down  thereof.  Set  our  hearts  on 
fire  witli  liie  ilitnes  of  thy  Divine  love,  that  ' 
th.;y  may  wholly  ascend  to  thee  as  burnt- 
offerings,  and  nothing  of  ours  may  remain 
with  us.  0  blessed  transmigration,  where 
the  blind  confidence  of  the  flesh  is  transform- 
ed into  a  lively  and  pure  faith,  that  has  no 
dependance  but  upon  thee  alone  ;  wiiere  self- 
love,  and  the  love  of  the  world,  are  exchanged 
for  the  love  of  thy  infinite  beauty  ;  when  our 
will  shall  centre  in  thine,  and  be  altogether 
absorbed  by  it.  Let  this  change,  O  bountiful 
Father,  be  brought  about,  for  it  is  a  change 
only  to  be  effected  by  the  power  of  thy  hand  ; 
and  as  soon  as  our  souls  are  made  sensible  of 
it,  thy  praise  shall  be  for  ever  sounded  within 
us,  as  in  temples  devoted  to  thy  service. 

Let  liiy  whole  church,  0  Lord,  flourish  and 
rejoice  in  the  li<,'ht  of  thy  favor.  Be  favora- 
ble to  this  our  university,  city,  and  nation. 
Dispel,  we  pray  thee,  the  thick  clouds,  and 

•  Cum  nuUa  in  tcrris  esset  sapientia,  i  coelfc  misit 
doctorciri. 

90 


quiet  the  winds  and  storms ;  for,  when  they 
rage  most,  and  make  the  greatest  noise,  they 
know  thy  voice,  and  obey  it.  Thou  art  the 
only  God  of  peace,  who  createsl  it  with  a 
word,  and  makest  righteousness  and  peace 
mutually  to  kiss  one  another.  We  depend 
upon  thee  only  ;  and  to  thee  alone  we  render 
praise  and  glory,  as  far  as  we  can,  through 
Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 


EXHORTATION  IV. 

Our  life  is  but  a  point,  and  even  less  than 
a  point :  but  as  it  is  not  a  mathematical  point, 
as  they  call  it,  not  quite  indivisiljle,  when  we 
divide  it  into  minute  parts,  it  appears  some- 
thing considerable,  and  assumes  the  imagina- 
ry appearance  of  a  large  space  of  time  ;  nay, 
according  to  Aristotle's  notion,  it  appears  di- 
visible in  infinitum.  Besides  those  common 
and  idle  divisions  of  human  life,  into  the  four 
stages  of  childhood,  youth,  manhood,  and  old 
age,  and  into  periods  of  ten  years,  which  sup- 
pose the  yet  smaller  divisions  of  years  and 
months  ;  men  have  many  various  ways  of  dis- 
tributing the  periods  of  their  life,  according 
to  the  different  occupations  and  studies  they 
have  been  engaged  in,  the  remarkable  events 
that  have  hajipened  to  them,  and  the  several 
alterations  and  revolutions  in  the  course  of 
their  lives.  And  I  doubt  not  but  you,  young 
gentlemen,  look  upon  this  present  instant  of 
time  as  the  beginning  of  a  new  period  of  your 
life.  You  have  uiy  leave  to  do  so,  provided 
you  seriously  consider,  at  the  same  time,  that 
the  whole  of  the  life  we  live  in  this  world  is 
of  a  frail  and  fleeting-  naiure,  and,  in  some  re- 
spect, nothing  at  all.  And  into  whatever 
parts  or  periods  we  divide  it,  if  we  consider 
the  miseries  and  lamentable  calamities  with 
which  it  is  fraught,  the  life  even  of  a  child 
may  seem  too  long  ;  but,  if  we  consider  the 
time  only,  we  must  conclude  the  life  of  the 
oldest  man  to  be  exceeding  short  and  fleet- 
ing. 

A  great  part  of  mankind  no  sooner  look 
upon  themselves  to  be  capable  of  worldly  af- 
fairs, and  think  on  entering  upon  some  pro- 
fession suitable  to  manhood,  but  ihey  are  cut 
off,  in  the  very  beginning  of  their  course,  by 
an  unforeseen  and  untimely  death.  And,  to 
be  sure,  this  is  the  great  distem[)er  of  young, 
and  even  of  old  men,  that,  by  their  desires 
and  designs,  they  launch  out  a  great  way  intf 
futurity,  and  form  a  series  of  projects  for  ma 
ny  years  to  come  :  while,  in  the  tneantime, 
they  rarely,  or  at  least  very  superfi(;iaily,  con- 
sider, how  foolish  and  precarious  it  is  to  de- 
pend upon  to-morrow,  and  how  soon  this 
present  form  of  ours  may  disappear  ;  how 
soon  we  may  return  to  our  oriijinal  dust  ;  nnr 
that  very  day,  as  the  royal  ()ro|)liet  warns  us 
our  thoughts,  even  the  wisest  and  best-con- 
certed thou<;lits  of  the  greatest  men,  and 
most  exalted  princes,  perish.  And  this  I  take 


7U 


EXHORTATIONS  TO  THE  CANDIDATES 


particular  notice  of,  tliat  no  sucli  illusion  may 
gi't  pi'sst'ssiou  I)*"  vour  umuis.  For  it  is  not 
the  coiniuou  sort  of  inaukiiui  only,  that  im- 
pose upon  themselves  in  this  respect,  hut  the 
gentrality  of  those  who  desire  to  he  account- 
C'J,  not  only  men  of  learning,  but  also  adepts 
iu  wisdom,  and  actually  pass  for  such.  Not 
that  I  wciiild  prohibit  your  makins:  an  early 
and  prudent  choice,  under  the  Divine  direc- 
tion, cif  the  employment  and  profession  of  life 
you  intend  lo  pursue  ;  nay,  I  would  use  every 
argument  to  persuade  you  to  make  use  of  such 
a  choice,  and  when  you  have  made  it,  to  pros- 
ecute the  intention  of  it  with  the  greatest  dil- 
igence and  activity.  I  only  put  you  uptni 
your  guard,  not  to  entertain  many  and  tow- 
ering iiupes  in  this  world,  nor  to  form  a  long 
series  of  connected  projects  ;  because  you  will 
find  them  all  more  vain  and  fleeting  than  il- 
lusions of  the  night !  Some  necessary  means 
will  fail,  some  favorable  opportunity  be  miss- 
ed ;  after  all  industry,  the  expected  event  may 
not  ha[)pen,  or  the  thread  ol'your  life  may  be 
cut,  and  thereby  all  your  projects  be  rendered 
abortive.  And  though  your  life  should  be 
drawn  out  to  ever  so  great  a  length,  and 
success  constantly  answer  your  expectations, 
yet,  you  know,  and  I  wish  you  would  remem- 
ber it,  the  i'atal  day  will  come  at  last,  perhaps 
when  it  is  least  expected  ;  that  fatal  and  fmal 
day,  I  say,  will  at  last  come,  when  we  must 
leave  all  our  enjoyments,  and  all  our  schemes, 
those  we  are  now  carrying  on,  and  those  we 
have  brought  to  perfection,  as  well  as  those 
that  are  only  begun,  and  those  that  subsist 
only  in  hopes  and  ideas. 

And  these  very  arguments,  which  have 
been  used  to  confine  your  minds  from  indul- 
ging themselves  in  too  remote  prospects,  will 
also  serve  to  persuade  you,  in  another  sense,  j 
to  look  mucli  '■■■nher:  not  wilh  regard  lo  1 
wor  lly  enjoy  meuis,  for  such  prospects,  strict- 
ly speaking,  can  not  be  called  long  ;  but  to 
look  far  beyond  all  earthly  and  perishing  | 
things,  to  those  that  are  heavenly  and  eter- 
nal.   And  those  that  will  not  raise  their  eyes 
to  such  objects,  as  the  Apostle  Peter  expres- 
ses it,  are  blind,  and  can  not  see  afar  off. 

But  of  you,  my  dear  youths,  I  expect  better 
things.  I  need  not  I  imagine,  use  many 
words  to  persuade  you  to  industry,  and  a  con- 
tinual progress  in  human  studies  and  philo- 
sophical learninff.  If  the  violence  and  infe- 
licity of  the  times  have  deprived  you  of  any 
part  of  that  jieriod  of  years  usually  employed 
in  these  studies  at  ihis  university,  you  will 
Burely  repair  that  loss,  as  soon  as  possible,  by 
your  subsequent  reading  and  application.  But 
if  nc  such  misfortune  had  happened,  you  are 
not,  I  believe,  ignorant,  that  our  schools  are 
only  intended  for  laving  the  foundations  of 
those  studies  upon  which  years,  and  indefat- 
igable industry,  are  to  raise  the  superstruc- 
ture of  more  complete  erudition  :  which,  by 
the  accession  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  may  be 
consecrated  mto  a  temple  for  God.  And  this 
is  what  I  would  recommend  to  your  esteem. 


and  your  earnest  desires,  beyond  any  oih?l 
study  whatever.  That  you  may  be  holy,  be- 
cause, our  God  IS  holy  ;  that,  when  you  leavk 
this  university,  those  with  whom  you  con- 
verse, may  not  find  you  puffed  up  with  pride, 
on  account  of  a  little  superficial  li'arning,  nor 
bigoted,  talkative,  or  fond  of  entering  into  un- 
seasonable disputes  ;  but  consider  you  all  as 
patterns  and  examples  of  piety,  purity,  tem« 
perance,  modesty,  and  all  Christian  virtues  ; 
particularly  that  humility  which  shone  so 
brightly  in  Christ  himself,  and  which  he  ea. 
nesily  ejhorts  all  his  disciples  to  learn  from 
him.  I  will  not  suspect  that  any  of  you  will 
turn  out  to  be  an  immodest  person,  a  glutton, 
or  drunkard,  or  in  any  shape  impious  and 
profane  ;  but  I  earnestly  exhort  and  beseech 
you,  my  dear  young  men,  to  make  it,  above 
all  other  things,  your  principal  siudy,  to  have 
your  hearts  purged  from  all  impure  and  igno- 
ble love  of  the  world  and  the  flesh,  that  in 
this  earth  you  may  live  to  God  only  ;  and 
then,  to  be  sure,  when  you  remove  out  of  it, 
you  will  live  with  him  for  ever  in  heaven. 

May  the  honorary  title  you  have  this  day 
received  be  happy  and  auspicious  !  But  I 
earnestly  pray  the  Father  of  lights  that  he 
would  deign  to  bestow  on  you  a  title  more 
solid  and  exalted  than  it  is  in  the  power  of 
man  to  give,  that  you  may  be  called  the  sons 
of  God,  and  that  your  conversation  may  be 
suitable  to  so  great  a  name,  and  so  glorious 
a  Father. 

Let  us  pray. 
Eternal  King  !  Thy  throne  is  established 
and  immoveUble  from  everlasting,  and  will 
continue  so  throughout  all  the  aijes  of  eterni- 
ty. Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth, 
before  thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the 
world,  even  from  everlasting  lo  everlasting, 
thou  art  God.  All  tilings  thai  exist,  whether 
visible  or  invisible,  derive  from  thee  their  be- 
ing, and  all  that  they  possess:  and  they  all, 
from  theleast  to  the  greatest, aresubservient  to 
thy  purposes,  who  art  their  supre^ne  Kina  and 
Father.  Many  of  them,  indeed,  act  without 
knowledge  or  design,  yet  serve  thee  with  a 
constant  and  unerring  obedience  ;  others  pay 
their  homage  from  princii)les  of  reason  and 
inclination  ;  and  all  the  rest  are  forced  to  pro- 
mote thy  intentions,  though  l)y  constraint  and 
against  their  wills.  Thou  art  great,  O  J.,ord, 
thou  art  great,  and  greatly  to  be  praised,  and 
of  thy  greatness  there  is  no  end.  The  heav- 
ens are  far  raised  from  the  earth,  but  thy 
majesty  is  much  farther  exalted  above  all  oui 
thoughts  and  conceptions.  Im[)ress,  we  pray 
thee,  on  our  hearts,  most  bountiful  Father,  a 
profound  sense  of  our  meanness  and  insignifi- 
cancy ;  and  make  us  acceptable  to  thee, 
through  thy  grace,  in  thy  beloved  Jesus,  blot- 
ting out  all  our  sins  by  the  blood  ot  his  cross, 
and  purifying  our  hearts  by  the  effusion  of 
thy  Spirit  from  on  high.  Illuminate,  most 
gracious  God,  this  assembly  of  ours,  by  the 
light  of  thy  Divine  favor,  and  let  thy  efTect* 


FOR  THE  DEGREE  OF  MASTER  OF  ARTS. 


7)5 


oal  bhssing,  we  pray  thee,  attend  the  work  we 
are  new  employed  about,  by  thy  approbation, 
and  the  gracious  disposition  of'ihy  providence, 
and  may  the  result  of  all  be  to  the  glory  of 
thy  name,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Amen. 


EXHORTATION  V. 

The  complaini  with  regard  to  the  vanity  of 
all  ])erishing  and  transitory  enjoyments, 
which  has  been  long  general  among  man- 
kind, is  indeed  jusl  and  well-founded  ;  but  it 
is  no  less  true,  that  the  vanity  which  resides 
in  the  heart  of  man  himself,  exceeds  every 
thing  of  that  kind  we  observe  in  the  other 
parts  of  the  visible  creation  :  for,  among  all 
the  creatures  that  we  see  around  us,  we  can 
find  nothing  so  fleeting  and  inconstant  ;  it 
Gutters  hither  and  thitber,  and  forsaking  that 
only  perfect  good  whicli  is  truly  suited  to  its 
nature  and  circumstances,  grasps  at  phantoms 
and  shadows  of  hai)piness,  which  it  pursues 
with  a  fully  more  than  childish. 

Man  wanders  about  on  this  earth;  he  hopes, 
he  wishes,  he  seeks,  he  gropes  and  lecls  about 
him  :  he  desires,  he  is  hot,  he  is  cold,  he  is 
blind,  and  complains  that  evil  abounds  every- 
where ;  yet,  he  is  himself  the  cause  of  those 
evils  which  rage  in  the  world,  but  most  of 
all  in  his  own  breast ;  and  therefore,  be- 
ing tossed  between  the  waves  thereof,  that 
roll  continually  within  and  without  him,  he 
/eads  a  restless  and  disordered  life,  miiil  he  be 
at  last  swallowed  up  in  the  unavoidable  gulf 
of  deativ  It  is,  moreover,  the  shame  and 
folly  of  the  human  race,  that  the  greatest 
part  of  them  do  not  resolve  upon  any  fixed 
and  settled  method  of  life,  bn'.  like  the  brute 
creatures,  live  and  die  without  design,  and 
without  proposing  any  reasonable  end.  For 
how  few  are  there,  who  seriously  and  fre- 
quently consider  with  themselves,  whence 
they  come,  whither  they  are  going,  and  what 
is  the  purpose  of  their  life  :  wlio  are  dai- 
ly reviewing  the  slate  of  their  own  minds, 
and  often  descend  into  themselves,  that  Ihuy 
may  as  frcciuenlly  ascend,  by  their  tbou:jrliis 
and  meditations,  to  their  exalted  Father,  and 
their  heavenly  country  ;  who  take  their  sta- 
tion upon  temporal  things,  and  view  those 
that  are  eternal  !  Yet,  these  are  the  only 
men  that  can  be  truly  said  to  live,  and  they 
alone  can  be  accounted  wise. 

And  to  this  it  is,  my  dear  youths,  that  1 
would  willingly  engage  your  souls;  nay,  I 
heartily  wish  they  were  carried  thither,  by 
the  liery  chariots  of  celestial  wisdom.  Let 
ths  common  sort  of  mankind  admire  mean 
things  :  let  ihem  place  their  hopes  on  riches, 
hon(jrs,  and  arts,  and  spend  their  lives  in 
the  pursuit  of  them  ;  but  let  your  souls  be 
inllamed  with  a  far  higher  ambition.  Yet  I 
wcjjld  not  altoiieilicr  prohibit  you  these  pur- 
»ui\s'  I  1  ily  desire  you  to  be  moderate  in 


them.  These  enjoyments  are  neither  great 
in  themselves,  nor  permanent  :  but  it  is  sur- 
prising, how  much  vanity  is  inflated  by  them. 
What  a  conceited,  vain  nothing  is  the  crea- 
ture we  call  man  !  For,  because  few  are  ca- 
pable to  discern  true  blessings,  which  are  sol- 
id and  intrinsically  beautil''ul,  therefore  the  su- 
perficial ones,  and  such  as  are  of  no  value  at 
all,  are  catched  at  ;  and  those  who  in  any 
measure  attain  to  the  possession  of  them,  are 
puffed  up  and  elated  thereby. 

If  we  consider  things  as  they  are,  it  is  an 
evidence  ofa  very  wron^  turn  of  mind,  to  boast 
of  titles  and  faine  ;  as  they  are  no  part  of  our- 
selves, nor  can  we  depend  upon  them.  But 
I  he  that  is  elevated  with  a  fond  conceit  of  his 
'  own  knowledge,  is  a  stranger  to  the  nature 
of  things,  and  particularly  to  himself  ;  since 
he  knows  not  that  the  highest  pitch  of  hu- 
man knowledge  ought,  in  reality,  rather  to 
be  called  ignorance.  How  small  and  incon- 
siderable is  the  extent  of  knowledge  !  Even 
the  most  contemptible  things  in  nature,  are 
I  sufficient  to  expose  the  greatness  of  our  igno- 
I  ranee.  And  with  res[)ect  to  Divine  things, 
who  dares  to  deny,  that  the  knowledge  man- 
kind has  of  them  is  next  to  nothing  ?  Be- 
cause the  weak  eyes  of  our  understanding, 
confined,  as  they  are,  within  such  narrow 
houses  of  clay,  can  not  bear  the  piercing  light 
of  divine  thinirs  ;  therefore,  the  Fountain  of 
all  wisdom  hath  thought  proper  to  communi- 
cate such  imperfect  discoveries  of  himself,  as 
are  barely  sufficient  to  direct  our  steps  to  the 
8uperi(jr  regions  of  perfect  lisht.  And  who- 
ever believes  this  truth,  will,  doubtless,  make 
it  his  chief  care  and  princijjal  study,  constant- 
ly to  follow  this  lamp  of  divine  lic-hi  that 
shines  in  darkness,  and  not  to  deviate  from  it 
either  to  the  riijht  hand  or  the  left.  It  is,  in- 
deed, my  o|)inion,  that  no  man  of  ingenuity 
ought  to  despise  the  study  of  philoso|)liy ,  or 
the  knowledge  of  languages,  or  grammar  it 
self:  thougti  to  be  sure  a  more  expeditious 
and  successful  method  of  teaching  them  were 
much  to  be  wished.  But  what  I  would  rec 
ommend  with  the  greatest  earnestness,  and 
persuade  you  to,  if  possible,  is,  that  you  would 
inseparably  unite  with  such  measures  of  learn- 
ing and  imi)rovement  of  your  tninds  as  you 
can  attain,  purity  of  religion.  Divine  love, 
moderation  of  soul,  and  an  aicreeable,  inofTen 
sive  behavior.  For  you  are  not  iftnorant 
what  a  low  and  empty  fi^jure  the  hiffliesl  at- 
tainments in  human  sciences  must  make,  if 
they  be  compared  with  the  dignity  and  dura- 
tion of  the  soul  of  man  :  for,  however  consid- 
erable they  may  be  in  themselves,  yet,  with 
regard  to  their  use,  and  their  whole  design, 
they  are  confined  within  the  short  space  of 
this  perishing  life.  But  the  soul  which  rea- 
sons, which  is  em[)loyed  in  learning  and 
tea(;hing,  in  a  few  davs  will  foreviT  bid  fare- 
well to  all  these  things,  and  remove  to  anoth- 
er country.  0,  how  incoiisiderabh,'  are  all 
arts  and  sciences,  all  eloquence  and  [)hiloso- 
phy,  when  compared  with  a  cautious  concern 


716 


EXHORTATIONS  TO  THE  CANDIDATES 


that  our  last  exit  out  of  this  world  may  be 
happy  and  auspicious,  and  that  we  may  de- 
pan  out  of  this  life  candidates  for  immoriali- 
tv,  at  whicii  we  can  never  arrive  but  by  the 
neautiful  way  of  holiness. 

Let  us  pray. 
Infinitf.  and  Eternal  God  !  who  inhabitest 
thick  darkness  and  light  inaccessible,  whom 
no  mortal  hatli  seen,  or  can  see;  yet  all  tliy 
works  evidently  declare  and  proclaim  thy 
wisdom,  thy  power, and  tiiy  infinite  goodness : 
And,  wlien  we  contemplate  tliese  thy  perfec- 
tions, what  is  it  our  souls  can  desire,  but  that 
they  may  love  thee,  worship  thee,  serve  thee, 
for  ever  proclaim  thy  praise,  and  celebrate  thy 
exalted  name,  which  is  above  all  praises,  and 
all  admiration  ?  Thy  throne  is  consiantly 
surrounded  by  thousands  and  ten  thousands 
of  glorified  spirits,  who  continually  adore 
thee  and-cry  out  without  ceasing,  Holy,  holy, 
holy.  Lord  God  Almighty,  who  was,  who  is, 
and  who  is  to  cnme.  Let  others  seek  what 
they  will,  and  find  and  embrace  what  they 
can  ;  may  we  have  always  this  one  fixed  and 
settled  purpose,  that  it  is  good  for  us  to  draw- 
near  to  God.  Let  the  seas  roar,  the  earth  be 
shaken,  and  all  things  go  to  ruin  and  confus- 
ion ;  yet,  the  soul  that  adheres  to  God,  will 
remain  safe  and  quiet,  and  shall  not  be  mov- 
ed for  ever.  0  blessed  soul  that  has  thee  for 
its  rest,  and  all  its  salvation  !  It  shall  be 
like  a  tree  planted  by  the  rivers  of  water  ;  it 
shall  not  fear  when  heat  cometh,  nor  shall  it 
be  uneasy  in  a  year  of  droujrht.  It  is  our 
earnest  petiiion  and  prayer,  0  Father,  that 
thy  hands  may  loosen  all  our  chains,  and  ef- 
fectually deliver  our  souls  from  all  the  snares 
and  allurements  of  the  world  and  the  flesh  ; 
and  that,  by  that  same  bountiful  ajid  most 
powerful  hand  of  thine,  they  may  be  for  ever 
united  to  thee  through  thy  only  begotten  Son, 
who  is  our  union  and  our  peace.  Be  favora- 
oly  present,  most  gracious  God,  with  this  as- 
sembly of  ours,  that  whatever  we  undertake, 
in  obedience  to  thy  will,  may  be  carried  to 
perfection  by  the  aid  of  thy  grace,  and  tend 
lo  the  glory  of  thy  name,  through  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 


EXHORTATION  VL 

I  AM  not  ignorant,  that  it  is  one  of  the  com- 
mon ans  of  life,  to  set  off  our  own  things 
with  all  the  pomp  we  can  ;  and,  if  there  is 
any  worth  in  them,  by  no  means  to  depreci- 
ate it,  but  rather  to  endeavor,  with  all  our 
might,  to  enhance  their  value  as  much  as 
possible:  nay,  those  of  ihcm  which  are  quite 
Tarn  and  worthless,  we  use  to  magnify  with 
pompous  expressions,  and  daub  with  false 
colors,  and  to  do  otherwise  is  reckoned  a  kind 
of  rustic  simplicity.  But  you,  young  gentle- 
men, who  are  acquainted  with  my  manner, 
will,  I  imagine,  easily  forgive  this  indiffer- 
Nice  of  mine  ;  and,  therefore,  I  say,  if  there 


are  any  who  despise  these  performances  o' 
ours,  we  leave  them  at  full  liberty,  for  we 
ourselves  held  ihem  in  contempt  before:  hut 
to  speak  freely,  together  with  them  we  un- 
dervalued all  worldly  things  ;  they  are  all 
made  of  the  same  mean  materials  ITlai'T-u /lia 
Kirn]      0  life,  short  with  regard  to  duration, 

;  long  in  consideration  offlhy  miseries,  involv- 
ed in  darkness,  beset  with  snares,  still  fluctua- 

I  ting  between  false  joys  and  real  torments, 

j  groundless  hopesand  fears  equally  imaginary, 
yet  foolishly,  and  even  to  distraction,  loved 

j  by  most !  We  will  not  die,  and  yet,  we  know 
not  how  to  live.    Our  present  possessions  are 

I  loathsome  as  food  to  a  man  in  a  fever,  and  we 
greedily  catch  at  future  enjoyments,  which, 
when  they  come  to  be  present,  will  be  receiv- 
with  the  same  indifl'erence :  for,  among  the 
advantages  of  this  fleeting  life,  nothing  is 
equally  agreeable  to  those  who  have  it  in  pos- 
session, and  those  who  have  it  only  in  desire 
and  hope. 

We  are  all  in  general  of  such  a  nature,  that 
we  are  weary  of  ourselves,  and,  what  we 
lately  preferred  to  everything  else,  upon  ex- 
perience we  reject.  This  inconstancy  is 
undoubtedly  a  sign  of  a  mind  distempered, 
forcibly  drawn  away  from  its  centre,  and  sep- 
arated from  its  only  durable  rest.  Nor  need 
you  go  far,  young  gentlemen,  to  look  for  an 
instance  of  this  distemper  :  let  any  of  you  de- 
scend into  himself  (which  very  few  do,  and 
even  they  but  rarely),  he  will  find  it  within 
him  ;  upon  a  very  slight  inquiry,  he  will  sure- 
ly be  sensible  of  it.  For  passing  other  consid- 
erations, with  what  fervent  wishes  have  you, 
in  your  hearts,  longed  for  this  day  !  Yet  I 
forewarn  you,  that  all  your  plcas^ire  will 
either  die  with  the  day  itself,  which  is  now 
fast  drawing  to  a  close,  or  but  for  a  very  short 
time  survive  it.  And,  as  commonly  happens, 
it  will  be  succeeded  by  the  anxious  cares  ot 
beginning  lil'e,  as  it  were,  anew  ;  or  which  is 
much  more  grievous  and  unhappy,  and  from 
which  I  earnestly  pray  you  may  he  all  effect- 
ually preserved,  by  those  temptations  and  al- 
lurements of  vice,  which  tend  to  debauch  and 
ruin  you.  For  these  allurements,  after  the 
manner  of  some  robbers,  attack  the  unwary 
and  inexperienced  with  blandishments  and 
caresses,  that  thereby  they  may  have  an  op- 
portunity to  undo  them.  If  therefore,  as  soon 
as  ye  enter  upon  a  life  of  freedom,  those  de- 
ceitful and  deadly  pleasures  of  sense  tempt 
you  with  their  delusive  smiles,  I  would  put 
you  in  mind,  how  unworthy  it  is  of  a  free  and 
generous  mind,  especially  that  of  a  Christian, 
to  become  an  abject  slave,  and  submit  to  the 
most  shameful  bondage  ;  how  disgraceful  and 
wretched  a  choice  it  is,  to  become  the  stave 
of  a  mad,  distracted  master  ;*  and  how  much 
more  generous  and  exalted  is  the  pleasure  of 
despising  them  all,  and  trampling  thein  under 
foot,  when  they  come  in  competition  with  the 
pure  and  permanent  delights  of  Divine  love. 

As  to  exalted  degrees  of  honor,  and  heaps 

*  AovAyf  yn    9at  wapatfjWvovproi  6tffn6TOv. 


FDR  THE  DEGREE  OF  MASTER  OF  ARTvS. 


717 


of  riches,  the  idol?  of  all  ranks  of  mankind 
which  they  worship  with  the  rage  of  enthu- 
siasm and  madness,  we  may  not  only  apply 
to  them  what  was  observed  of  old  concern- 
ing Hercules's  statue,  and  say,  "  They  have 
nothing  Divine  in  them  :"*  but  also,  that  they 
are  entirely  void  of  real  goodness.  Even 
those  who  have  the  greatest  experience  of 
ihem,  are  at  last  obliged  to  own  this  :  the 
force  of  truih  extorts  the  confession,  though 
they  make  it  with  regret  and  against  their 
will.  All  the  beauty  and  brightness  of  these 
idols  resemble  the  decorations  of  a  stage, 
that  dazzle  the  eyes  of  the  vulgar  ;  and  the 
enjovment  of  them  is,  in  reality,  but  a  splen- 
did kind  of  slavery,  and  gilded  misery.  It  is 
a  pathetic  expression  of  St.  Bernard,  "  0  am- 
bition, the  torture  of  the  ambitious,  how  hap- 
pens it,  that  though  thou  lormentest  all,  thou 
yet  makest  thyself  agreeable  to  all  ?"t  0 
how  easily  does  even  the  least  glimpse  of 
eternal  and  infinite  beauty  rase  out  of  the 
mind  all  the  impressions  made  upon  it  by 
the  objects  we  daily  converse  with  on  this 
earth,  and  turn  its  admiration  of  them  into 
contempt  and  disdain. 

But  if  any  one,  having  thoroughly  exam- 
ined and  despised  these  shadows,  resolves 
solely  to  pursue  a  more  complete  knowledge 
of  things,  and  follow  the  streams  of  learning, 
we  can  not  deny,  that  he  judges  most  justly  ; 
yet,  after  all,  he  must  know,  if  he  is  wise,  or 
at  least  he  ou^ht  to  know,  that  he  may  be 
wise,  what  vanity  and  superfluity  is  to  be  met 
with  even  here  4  for  often,  when  one  has 
api)lied  himself  to  his  books  and  studies  with 
the  greatest  assiduity,  and  almost  spent  his 
life  upon  thetn,  all  his  pains  evaporate  into 
smoke,  and  the  labor  of  years  is  entirely  lost. 
And,  what  is  most  of  all  to  be  lamented,  this 
is  sometimes  the  case  with  respect  to  theol- 
ogy, which  is  the  chief  of  all  arts  and  scien- 
ces,  as  so  large  a  portion  of  that  vineyard 
is  still  possessed  with  briers  and  thorns. 
How  mar  are  the  disputes  and  conirover- 
sies,  how  many  the  trifling  arguments  and 
cavils,  which  possibly  may  have  something 
of  the  sharpness  of  thorns,  but  undoubtedly 
a  great  deal  of  their  barrenness  and  their 
hurtful  quality  !  A  phiIosoi)her  of  old,  se- 
verely reproves  the  sophisters  of  his  time 
m  these  words  :  "  What  was  formerly  the 
love  of  wLidom,  is  now  become  the  love  of 
words."!'  We,  to  be  sure,  may  substitute  in 
place  of  this,  a  complaint  still  more  bitter, 
that  what  was  theology  before,  is  now  be- 
come foolish  talking;  and  that  many  of  our 
divines,  though  they  serve  one  God,  and  that 
the  God  of  peace,  yet  si)lil  into  parlies  upon 
the  lightest  occasions,  and  with  great  impie- 
ty divide  the  whole  world  into  factions.  And 
1  am  much  afraid,  this  evil,  in  a  great  meas- 

t  O  !  iimbiiio,  ainbientium  crux,  quomodo  omnes 
orqii'"ns  oiniiibiis  places  ? 
t  rioAAa  Inn  Ktva  Kai  otcfucpya, 
I        ph'l  isophia  fuit.  facta  philclogia  est. 


ure,  derives  its  original  from  the  education  of 
youth  in  schools  and  colleges.  For  the  most 
part  of  men  manage  this  business,  as  if  dis- 
puting was  the  end  of  learning,  as  fighting 
is  the  design  of  going  to  war:  hence  the 
youth  when  they  enter  the  school,  begin  dis- 
puting, which  never  ends  but  with  their  life. 
Death  imposes  silence,  and  so,  at  last,  "  these 
fierce  passions  of  their  minds  and  these  in- 
veterate contentions,  are  composed  to  rest, 
by  the  weight  of  a  little  dust  thrown  upon 
them."* 

As  for  you,  young  gentlemen,  if  my  earn- 
est wishes  and  sincere  advice  can  have  any 
weight  with  you,  you  will  early  extricate 
yourselves  out  of  these  flames  of  contention, 
that  your  minds,  being  lighted  up  by  the 
pure  and  celestial  fire  of  the  Divine  Spirit, 
may  shine  forth  in  holiness,  and  burn  with 
the  most  fervent  charity. 

Let  us  pray. 

Honor  and  praise  is  due  to  thee,  0  infi- 
nite God.  This  is  the  universal  voice  of  all 
the  blessed  spirits  on  high,  and  all  the  saints 
on  earth  :  worthy  art  thou,  0  Lord,  to  receive 
glory,  and  honor,  and  power,  because  thou 
hast  created  all  things,  and  for  thy  pleasure 
they  are.  We,  here  before  thee,  with  united 
hearts  and  affections  offer  ihee,  as  we  can, 
the  sacrifice  of  gratitude,  love  and  praise. 
How  much  are  we  indebted  to  thee,  for  our- 
selves, and  for  all  that  we  possess!  For  in 
thee  we  live,  move,  and  liave  our  being. 
Thou  hast  redeemed  us  from  our  sins,  hav- 
ing given  the  Son  of  thy  love  as  a  .sacrifice 
and  ransom  for  our  souls:  the  chastisement 
of  our  i)eace  fell  upon  him,  and  by  his  stripes 
we  are  healed.  On  this  consideration,  we  ac- 
knowledge we  are  no  lontjer  at  our  own  dispo- 
sal, since  we  are  bought  with  a  price,  and  so 
very  great  a  price,  that  we  may  glorify  thee 
O  Father,  and  thy  Son,  in  our  souls  and  our 
bodies,  which  are  so  justly  thine.  May  we 
devote  ourselves  to  thee,  through  the  whole 
remaining  part  of  our  life,  and  disdain  the 
impure  and  iijnoble  slavery  of  sin,  the  world 
and  the  (le^h,  that  in  all  things  we  mny  de- 
mean ourselves  as  becomes  the  sons  of  God, 
and  the  heirs  of  ihy  celesiial  kingdom,  ami 
make  daily  greater  progress  in  our  journey 
toward  the  happy  possession  thereof. 

Bless  thy  church,  and  our  nation,  and  this 
our  university  :  may  it  be  thine,  we  pray 
thee.  We  entreat  that  thou  wouldst  become 
our  father,  our  protector,  and  our  supreme 
teacher,  who  hast  thy  chair  in  heaven,  and 
leachest  the  hearts  of  men  on  this  earth. 
May  the  youth  flourish  under  thy  instruction, 
that  they  may  be  not  on  y  learned,  but  es- 
pecially upright,  pious,  and  true  ('hristians, 
entirely  devoted  to  the  honor  of  thy  name^ 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

•  Hi  mollis  animoriim,  atqiip  hu  e  ccrtainina  tanta 
Pulveris  exigui  jactu  cnmprcssa  (jiiicscunt. 

ViRoii...  Geor  iv.  H, !.  6- 


718 


EXHORTATIONS  TO  THE  CANDIDATES 


EXHORTATION  VII. 

Tiir.sE  aradcmical  exercises;  of  ours  are,  to 
be  sure,  no  srreai  matter,  nor  do  we  ftiakeany 
hicrh  account  of  ilierii  ;  yet,  after  all,  we  set 
no  liiffher.  periiaps  even  a  less  value  upon 
the  liusiiiui;  alVairs  of  mankind,  which  make 
a  much  ffreaier  noise,  and  tlie  farces  that  are 
acted  upon  the  more  exalted  theatres  of  the 
world:  which,  to  speak  my  sentiments  in  a 
few  words,  are  for  the  most  part  outwardly 
n\ore  pompous  than  these  of  ours,  but  in- 
wardly equally  vain,  and  more  insi2;nificant 
than  the  busy  amusements  of  "  children  play- 
ing on  the  sands,  and  casjcrly  huildin?  little 
liouses,  whicii,  with  sriddy  levity,  they  in- 
stantly pull  down  again."*  Or,  if' you  chose 
to  be  more  severe  upon  the  fruitless  labors 
of  mankind,  and  their  busy  and  irrecular 
motions  backward,  and  forward,  and  from 
one  place  to  another,  you  may,  with  a  great 
man,  who  knew  all  these  by  experience, 
compare  them  io  xhe  fluttering  of fri^^hlencd 
Jiies,  the  toilsome  hvrrii  of  the  ants,  and  the 
motions  of  puppets.^  But  he  that,  amid  all 
the  confusions  and  commotions  which  hap- 
pen in  human  affairs  here  below,  has  re- 
course to  Divine  contemplation  and  the  hopes 
of  eternity,  as  the  lofty  impregnable  tower 
of  true  wisdom,  "  is  the  only  person  that  en- 
joys uninterrupted  ease  and  tranquillity,  like 
the  heavenly  bodies,  which  constantly  move 
on  in  their  orbits,  and  are  never,  by  any  vio- 
lence, diverted  from  their  course. "t 

And  indeed,  what  wonder  is  it,  that  he  can 
easily  view  all  the  dreadful  appearances  of 
this  wretched  life  with  a  resolute  and  steady 
countenance,  who,  by  frequent  interviews  and 
daily  conversation  with  death  itself,  which 
We  call  the  king  of  terrors,\\  has  rendered  it 
familiar  to  him,  and  thereby  not  only  divest- 
ed it  of  its  terrors,  but  also  placed  in  it  a 
Deauiiful,  pleasant,  and  quite  amiable  light. 
By  this  means,  he  dies  daily;  and  doubtless, 
oefore  he  suffers  a  natural  death,  he  dies  in  a 
more  exalted  sense  of  the  word,  by  with- 
drawing,  as  far  as  is  possible,  his  mind  from 
the  encumbrance  of  earthly  things,  and  even 
while  it  liidijes  in  the  body,  weaning  it  from 
all  the  worldly  objects  that  are  placed  about 
him.  And,  in  this  very  sense,  philosophy  of 
old  was  most  properly  called  the  meditation 
ofdenlh,^  which  the  Roman  orator  has,  in  my 
opmion,  explained  with  great  propriety,  and 
the  precision  of  a  philosopher.  "What  is  it 
we  do,"  say  he,  "  when  we  withdraw  the 
tnind  from  pleasure,  that  is,  the  body,  from 
our  means  and  substance  that  is  the  servant 

*  '$2?  hrt  Tt^  Ipitftadov  (TvvnyT]  irat^  "YX^  B'lXajrrjj 
*Os  CTTCi  oilv  TT'nriffcv  dOvfjfjnra,  vrjntCTOtatt/ 

avi'^^tvat  TrofTtv  Kai  ^ef)(rtv  aOvofov- 
J  ^vtiio}v  tnrOriftt:vo}v  itaSpo^af  fivpfiiKOjif  raXiiffopta^ 
mi  ayf)o'P'iota<;  Kal  trtyXXdpia  vtvpoaiaiTTOVfieva* 
\  Oliasolns  asjit,  sicut  ccrloslia  semper 
Inconciissa  siio  \  olvunlor  sidera  lapsu.  Luc,  lib.  id. 
II  davi'irnv* 


of  the  body,  that  provides  for  its  w<tnts  ironr 
the  commonwealth,  and  every  kind  of  busi 
ness :  what  is  it  we  then  do,  1  say,  but  recal. 
it  to  itself  and  oblige  it  lo  slay  at  home 
Now  to  withdraw  the  mind  from  the  body,  is 
nothing  else  but  to  learn  lo  die."*  Let  us, 
therefore,  reason  thus,  if  you  will  take  my 
advice,  and  separate  ourselves  from  our  bod- 
ies :  that  is,  let  us  accustom  ourselves  to  die  : 
this  even  while  we  sojourn  on  this  earth,  will 
be  to  the  soul  a  life  like  lo  that  which  it  will 
enjoy  in  heaven  ;  and,  being  delivered  from 
these  fetters,  we  shall  move  at  a  better  rate, 
the  course  of  our  souls  will  be  less  retarded 
in  our  journey  to  that  happy  place,  at  which 
when  we  arrive,  we  can  then,  and  then  only 
be  truly  said  to  live.  For  this  life  is  but  a 
kind  of  death,  the  miseries  whereof  I  could 
paint,  if  it  were  seasonable  :  but,  to  be  sure, 
it  was  most  justly  called  (i  Jfe  of  the  ureal- 
est  iniseriji  by  Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  or 
whoever  was  the  author  of  that  book  which 
goes  under  his  name. 

And  indeed,  young  gentlemen,  I  am  of 
opinion,  that  such  a  view  and  meditation  of 
death,  will  not  be  unsuitable,  or  improper, 
even  for  you,  though  you  are  in  the  pritne  of 
life,  and  your  minds  in  their  full  vigor:  nay, 
I  would  gladlv  hope,  you  yourselves  will  not 
imagine  it  W  juld,  nor  be  at  all  offended  at 
me,  as  if,  by  mentioning  that  inausjiicious 
word  unseasonably,  I  disturbed  your  present 
joy,  drew  a  kind  of  black  cloud  over  this 
bright  day  of  festivity,  or  seem  to  mix  among 
your  laurels  a  branch  of  the  haled  cypress. 
For  a  wise  man  would  not  willingly  owe  his 
joy  to  madness,  nor  think  it  a  pleasure  fool- 
ishly to  forget  the  situation  of  his  affairs. 

The  wise  man  alone  feels  true  joy  :  and 
real  wisdom  is  the  attainment  of  a  Christian 
only,  who  bears  with  life,  but  hcpes  for 
death,  and  passes  through  all  the  storms  and 
tempests  of  the  former  with  an  undauntedness 
of  mind,  but  with  the  most  fervent  wishes 
looks  for  the  latter  as  the  secure  jiort  and  ihe 
foir  havensX  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  ex- 
pression :  whose  mind  is  humble,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  exalted,  neither  depending  upon 
foreitrn,  that  is,  external  advantages,  nor 
puffed  up  wiih  his  own  ;  and  neither  eleva- 
ted nor  depressed  by  any  turns  or  vicissitudes 
of  fortune. 

He  is  the  wise  man,  who  relinquishes 
things  as  they  really  are  :  who  is  not,  with 
the  common  sort  of  mankind,  that  are  al 
ways  children,  terrified  by  bug-bears,  no» 
pleased  with  painted  rattles :  who  has  a 
greatness  of  soul,  vastly  superior  to  all  fading 
and  perishing  things  ;  who  judges  of  his  im 

*  Quid  aliud  agimus,  cum  a  vohi])tate,  id  est  a 
corpore,  cum  f'amiliari  (jua'  ministra  csl  ot  Camilla 
corporis,  cum  a  rcpubiica  cum  a  ncgotio  nmni  sovera- 
miis  animiim,  quid  turn  agimus  (iiiquam)  nisi  ilium  ad 
seipsuni  advncaiuus,  ct  sccum  esse  cogimus  ?  Sccpf- 
nero  autcm  a  cnrpore  aninium,  necquicquam  aliud  est 
quam  r-mori  disccre. 


FOR  THE  DEGREE  OF  MASTER  OF  ARTS. 


719 


provements  by  his  life,  and  thinks  he  knows 
everything  l;s  '-loes  not  covet,  and  everything 
he  does  not  fear.  The  only  thing  he  desires, 
IS  the  favor  a.id  countenance  of  the  Supreme 
King  ;  the  only  thing  he  fears,  is  his  displeas- 
ure. And,  without  doubt  a  mind  of  this  cast 
must,  of  necessity,  be  the  habitation  of  con- 
stant serenity,  exalted  joy,  and  gladness 
springing  from  on  high.  And  this  is  tiie 
man,  that  is  truly  possessed  of  that  svevjiiav. 
xai  yaXni'riv — tranquillity  and  happy  disposition 
of  mind,  which  the  philosophers  boast  of,  the 
divines  recommend,  but  few  attain.  And 
though  he  will  neither  willingly  suffer  him- 
self to  be  called  a  philosopher,  nor  a  philolo- 
gist, yet  he  is,  in  realiiy.Ofwo^os.  well  versed  in 
the  things  of  God,  and,  by  a  kind  of  Divine 
influence  and  instruction,  has  atiained  to  the 
light  of  pure  and  peaceable  truth  :  where  he 
passes  his  days  in  ;he  greatest  quietness  and 
serenity,  far  above  the  cloudy  and  stormy  re- 
gions of  controversy  and  disputation. 

If  any  one  of  you  has  been  thus  instructed, 
he  has  certainly  attained  the  highest  of  all 
arts,  and  has  entered  upon  the  most  glorious 
liberty,  even  before  he  hath  received  any  uni- 
versity degree.  But  the  rest,  though  they  are  j 
presently  to  have  the  title  of  master  of  arts, 
still  continue  a  silly,  servile  set  of  men,  un- 
der a  heavy  yoke  of  bondage,  whereby  even 
their  minds  will  be  cramped  with  oppressive 
laws,  far  more  intolerable  than  any  disci[)line, 
however  severe.  None  of  you,  I  imagine,  is 
so  excessively  blinded  with  self  con<-eit,  so 
ignorant  of  tlie  nature  of  things,  and  unac- 
quainted with  himself, as  to  dream  that  he  is 
already  a  philosopher,  or  be  pufTed  up  with 
an  extravagant  opinion  of  his  own  knowl- 
edge, because  he  has  gone  through  the  ordi- 
nary exercises  at  the  university;  though,  to 
speak  the  truth,  the  philosophy  which  pre- 
vails in  the  schools,  is  of  a  vain,  airy  nature, 
and  more  apt  to  inspire  the  raind  with  pride, 
than  10  improve  it.  As  it  is  my  earnest 
prayer,  so  it  is  also  the  object  of  my  hope, 
that  you  will  retire  from  this  seminary,  with 
your  mmds  excited  to  a  keen  and  wholesome 
thirst  after  true  erudition,  rather  than  blown  \ 
up  with  the  wildfire  of  science,  falsely  so 
called;  and  wliat,  above  all  other  attain- 
ments, is  of  greatest  consequence,  that  you 
will  leave  us,  deeply  affected  with  the  most 
ardent  l(;ve  of  heavenly  wisdom.  Whatever 
may  be  your  fate  with  respect  to  other  things, 
it  is  my  earnest  request,  that  it  be  your  highest , 
ambition,  and  your  [)rincipal  study,  to  be  true 
Christians  :  'hat  is,  to  be  humble,  meek,  pure, 
holy,  and  followers  of  your  most  auspicious 
Captain,  the  Lamb,  wherever  he  goeih.  For 
he  that  f()lli)wct!)  him  shall  not  walk  in  dark- 
ness, but  he  Kjiuliicted,  through  the  morning 
light  of  DiviiH!  grace  to  the  meridian  and 
never-ending  brightness  of  glory. 

Let  us  pray. 

Etf.r-jal  Father  of  mercies  and  of  lights, 
the  only  rest  of  the  immortal  souls  which  thou 


hast  created,  and  their  never-failing  consola- 
tion. Into  what  by-paths  of  error  do  our 
souls  divert,  and  to  what  dangers  are  they 
exposed  on  every  hand,  when  they  stray  away 
from  thee  !  But  while  they  keep  within  thy 
hiding-jilace,  O  Most  High,  they  are  safe  un- 
der the  shadow  of  thy  wings.  0  how  happy 
are  they,  and  how  well  do  they  live,  who 
pass  their  whole  lives  in  that  secret  abode, 
:  where  they  may  continually  refresh  thera- 
'  selves  with  the  delicious  fruits  of  thy  love, 
and  show  forth  thy  praise!  where  they  may 
taste  and  see  that  thou  art  good,  0  Lord,  and 
be  thoroughly  persuaded  of  the  immense 
riches  of  thy  bounty,  which  all  our  miseries 
can  not  exceed,  nor  our  poverty  exhaust; 
nay,  which  the  constant  effusion  of  them 
upon  the  whole  universe,  and  all  its  parts, 
can  not  in  the  least  diminish.  As  for  us  who 
are  before  thee,  the  most  unworthy  of  all  thy 
creatures,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  tlie  most  ex- 
cessively loaded  with  all  the  instances  of  thy 
goodness,  can  we  avoid  crying  out  with  the 
united  voices  of  our  beans.  Let  praise  be  as- 
cribed to  the  Lord,  because  he  is  good,  and 
his  mercy  endureth  for  ever.  Who  shall  de- 
clare the  great  and  wonderful  works  of  God  ? 
Who  shall  shall  show  forth  his  praise  ?  Who 
ruleth  by  his  power  for  ever,  and  his  eyes  ob- 
serve the  nations,  that  the  rebellious  may 
not  exalt  themselves.  Who  restores  our 
souls  to  life,  and  suffers  not  our  feet  to  be 
moved  ?  But,  on  the  other  hand,  alas!  how 
justly  may  our  songs  be  interrupted  with  bit- 
ter lamentations,  that,  under  such  strong  and 
c?)nstant  rays  of  his  bounty,  our  hearts  are  so 
cold  toward  him!  0  how  faint  and  languid 
is  our  love  to  him  !  How  very  little,  or  near 
to  nothing,  is  the  whole  of  that  flame  which 
we  feel  within  us!  And,  as  that  love  fails 
within  us,  we  misplace  our  affections  upon  the 
things  around  us  :  and,  as  wc  follov/  vanity, 
we  become  vain  and  miserable  at  the  same 
time.  But  may  thy  Spirit,  0  Lord,  whom 
we  humbly  and  earnestly  beg  of  thee,  de- 
scending into  our  hearts, inspire  us  thoroughly 
with  life,  vigor,  and  celestial  purity  ! 

Please  to  enlighten  thy  church  throughout 
the  wlujle  habitable  world,  and  iiarticularly  in 
these  islands,  with  the  coiilinued  light  of  thy 
countenance.  If  tli  ju  apply  thy  heaiiiig  hand, 
we  shall  presently  be  whole:  nor  need  we  look 
to  any  quarter  for  other  remedies  than  those 
we  have  always  found  to  be  more  powerful 
than  our  most  obstinate  distempers.  Bless 
this  city,  and  this  celebrated  university. 
Grant,  most  gracious  Father,  that  the  nurn 
hers  of  youth  wo  send  out  from  it  this  day 
asid  every  year,  may,  by  thy  effectual  grace, 
be  consecrated  and  devoted  to  thy  service. 
Forbid,  we  pray  thee,  that  they  should  either 
be  the  means  of  spreading  pollution  among 
thy  peoi)le,  or  suffer  themselves  to  be  tainted 
with  the  infection  of  a  wicked  world  :  hut  let 
this  fountain  of  learning  be  continually  en- 
riched with  thy  heavenly  influences,  that  it 
may   constantly   supply    pure   and  'iuipid 


720 


EXHORTATION  TO  THE  CANDIDATES,  &c. 


strenms  for  the  welfare  and  improvement 
of  ihy  church  and  people,  to  the  i^lory  of  thy 
cxalied  name,  throusfh  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ; 
to  whom,  with  thee,  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  be 
nonor,  praise,  and  glory,  world  without  end. 
Amen. 


EXHORTATION  VIII. 

Amid  these  amusements,  we  are  unhappily 
losinir  a  day.  Yet,  some  part  of  the  weight 
of  this  complaint  is  removed  when  we  con- 
sider, that,  while  the  greatest  part  of  man- 
kind are  bustling  in  crowds  and  places  of 
traffic,  or,  as  they  would  have  us  believe,  in 
affairs  of  great  importance,  we  are  trifling  our 
time  more  innocently  than  they.  But  what 
should  hinder  us  from  closing  this  last  scene 
in  a  serious  manner,  that  is,  from  turning  our 
eyes  to  more  Divine  objects,  whereby,  though 
we  are  fatigued  with  other  matters,  we  may 
terminate  the  work  of  this  day,  and  the  day 
itself,  agreeably  :  as  the  beams  of  the  sun 
use  to  give  more  than  ordinary  delight  when 
he  is  near  his  selling  ? 

You  are  now  initiated  into  the  philosophy, 
such  as  it  is,  that  prevails  in  the  schools,  and, 
I  imagine,  intend,  with  all  possible  despatch, 
to  apply  to  higher  studies.  But  0  !  how  pit- 
iful and  scanty  are  all  those  things  which  be- 
set us  before,  behind,  and  on  every  side  !  The 
bustling  we  observe,  is  nothing  but  the  hur- 
rying of  ants  eagerly  engaged  in  their  little 
labors.  The  mind  must  surely  have  degen- 
erated, and  forgotten  its  original  as  effectu- 
ally as  if  it  had  drank  of  the  river  Lethe,  if, 
extricating  itself  out  of  all  these  mean  con- 
cerns and  designs,  as  so  many  snares  laid  for 
It,  and  rising  above  the  whole  of  this  visible 
world,  it  does  not  return  to  its  Father's  bo- 
som, where  it  may  contemplate  his  eternal 
beauty,  where  contemplation  will  inflame 
love,  and  love  be  crowned  with  the  posses- 
sion of  the  beloved  object.  But,  in  the  con- 
templation of  this  glorious  object,  how  great 
caution  and  moderation  of  mind  is  necessary, 
that,  by  prying  presumptuously  into  his  secret 
counciis  or  his  nature,  and  rashly  breaking 
into  the  sanctuary  of  light,*  we  be  not  quite 
involved  in  darkness!  And,  with  regard  to 
what  the  infinite,  independent,  and  necessa- 
rily existent  Being  has  thought  proper  to  com- 
municate to  us  concerning  himself,  and  we 
are  concerned  to  know,  even  thai  is  by  no 
means  to  be  obscured  with  curious,  imperti- 
nent questions,  nor  perplexed  wiih  the  arro- 
gance of  disputation  ;  because,  by  such  means, 
instead  of  enlarging  our  knowledge,  we  are 
in  the  fair  way  to  know  nothing  at  all  ;  but 
readily  to  be  received  by  humble  faith,  and 
entertained  with  meek  and  pious  affections. 
And  if,  in  these  notices  of  him  that  are  com- 
municated to  us,  we  meet  with  anything  ob- 
scure and  hard  to  be  understood,  such  diffi- 

*  Etj  Ta  Tov  ipdjTos  a6vra* 


cullies  would  be  happily  got  over,  not  by  per- 
plexed controversies,  but  by  consianl  and  fer. 
vent  prayer.  "  He  will  come  lo  undcrsiand,' 
savs  admirably  well  the  famous  bishop  of 
Hippo  [Augusiine],  "  who  knocks  by  i)rayer  ; 
not  he  who,  by  quarrellnig,  makes  a  noise  at 
the  gate  of  truth  "*  But  what  can  we,  who 
are  mortal  creatures,  underslaiid  wiih  regard 
to  the  inexpressible  Being  we  now  speak  of, 
especially  while  we  sojourn  in  these  dark 
prisons  of  clav,  but  only  this,  that  we  can  by 
no  means  compreJiend  him  ?  For  though,  m 
thinking  of  him,  we  remove  from  our  idea  all 
sort  of  imperfection,  and  collect  together  ev- 
ery perceivable  perfection,  and  adorn  the 
whole  with  the  highesi  titles,  we  must,  after 
all,  acknowledge  that  we  have  said  nothing, 
and  that  our  concei)iioiis  are  nothing  to  the 
purpose.  Let  us,  therefore,  in  general  ac- 
knowledge him  to  he  the  immoveable  Being 
that  moveth  everyihiiig,  the  immutable  God 
that  changeth  all  things  at  his  pleasure,  the 
infinite  and  eternal  Fountain  of  all  good  and 
of  all  existence,  and  the  Lord  and  sole  Ruler 
of  the  world. 

If  you,  then,  my  dear  youths,  aspire  to  gen- 
uine Christianity,  that  is,  the  knowledge  of 
God  and  Divine  things,  I  would  have  you  con- 
sider that  the  mind  must  first  be  recalled  and 
engaged  to  turn  in  upon  itself,  before  it  can 
be  raised  up  toward  God  :  according  to  that 
expression  of  St.  Bernard,  "  May  I  return  from 
external  things,  to  those  that  are  within  my- 
self, and  from  these  again  rise  to  those  that 
are  of  a  more  exalted  nature. "t  But  the  great- 
est part  of  men  live  abroad,  and  are  truly 
strangers  at  home  :  you  may  sooner  find  them 
anywhere  than  with  themselves.  Now,  is 
this  not  real  madness,  and  the  highest  degree 
of  insensibility  ?  Yet,  after  all,  they  seem 
to  have  some  reason  in  their  madness,  when 
they  thus  stray  away  from  themselves,  since 
they  can  see  nothing  within  them  that  by  its 
promising  aspect  can  give  them  pleasure  or 
deliirht.  Everything  there  is  ugly,  frightful, 
and  full  of  nastiness,  which  they  would  rather 
be  ignorant  of,  than  be  at  the  pains  to  purge 
away  ;  and  therefore  prefer  a  slothful  forget- 
fulness  of  their  misery,  to  the  trouble  and  la- 
bor  of  regaining  happiness.  But  how  propos- 
terous  is  the  most  diligent  study,  and  the  high- 
est knowledge,  when  we  neglect  that  of  our- 
selves !  The  Roman  philosopher,  ridiculing 
the  grammarians  of  his  time,  observes,  that 
"  they  inquired  narrowly  mto  the  misfortunes 
of  Ulvsses,  but  were  quite  ignorant  of  their 
own."|;  The  sentiments  of  a  wise  and  pious 
man  are  quite  different,  and  I  wish  you  may 
adopt  them.  It  is  his  principal  care  to  be 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  himself;— he 
watches  over  his  own  ways,  he  improves  and 
cultivates  his  heart  as  a  garden  consecrated 

•  Intelliget  qui  orando  pulsat,  non  qui  rixando  ob- 
strepit  ad  ostium  vpritatis. 

t  At)  cxlerioribus  ad  interiora,  ab  interioribus  ad 
suporiora  ascondam. 

}  Ulyssis  maJa  expeorant,  ignorant  sua. 


VALEDICTORY  ORATION. 


721 


to  the  King  of  kings,  who  takes  particular 
delight  in  it  ;  he  carefully  nurses  the  heaven- 
ly plants  and  flowers,  and  roots  up  all  the 
wild  and  noxious  weeds,  thai  he  may  be  able 
to  say  with  the  greater  confidence.  Let  my  he- 
loved  come  into  his  own  garden,  ond  be  p'eaxed 
to  eat  of  his  fruits.  And  when,  upon  this  in- 
vitation, the  great  King,  in  the  fulness  of  his 
goodness,  descends  into  the  mind,  the  soul 
may  then  easily  ascend  with  him,  as  it  were, 
in  a  chariot  of  fire,  and  look  down  upon  the 
earth,  and  all  earthly  things,  with  contempt 
and  disdain.  "  Then  rising  above  the  rainy 
regions,  it  sees  the  storms  falling  beneath  i's 
feet,  and  tramples  upon  the  hidden  thunder."* 

Let  us  pray. 

Whatever  satisfaction  we  look  for  with- 
out thee,  0  heavenly  Faiher,  is  mere  delusion 
and  vanity.  Yet,  though  we  have  so  often 
experienced  this,  we  have  not,  to  this  day, 
learned  to  renounce  this  vain  and  fruitless  la- 
bor, that  we  may  depend  upon  thee,  who 
alone  canst  give  full  and  complete  satisfac- 
tion to  the  souls  of  men.  We  pray,  therefore, 
that,  by  thy  Almighty  hand,  thou  wouldst  so 
effectually  jom  and  unite  our  hearts  to  thee, 
that  they  may  never  be  separated  any  more. 
How  unhappy  are  they  who  forsake  thee,  and 
whose  hearts  depart  irom  thy  ways  !  They 


I  shall  be  like  shrubs  in  the  desert ;  they  shall 
not  see  when  good  cometh,  but  dwell  in  a 
parched  and  barren  land.  Blessed,  on  the 
contrary,  is  he  who  hath  placed  his  confi- 
dence in  thee :  he  shall  be  like  a  tree  planted 
by  the  rivers  of  water  ;  he  shall  not  be  afraid 
when  heat  cometh,  nor  be  uneasy  in  the  time 
of  drought.  Take  from  us,  0  Lord,  whatever 
earthly  enjoyments  thou  shalt  think  proper: 
there  is  one  thing  will  abundantly  make  up 
all  our  losses;  let  Christ  dwell  in  our  hearts 
by  faith,  and  the  rays  of  thy  favor  continually 
refresh  us  in  the  face  of  thine  anointed  ;  in 
this  event,  we  have  nothing  to  ask,  but  with 
grateful  minds  shall  for  ever  celebrate  thy 
bounty,  and  all  our  bones  shall  say,  "Who 
is  like  unto  thee,  0  Lord,  who  is  like  unto 
thee?" 

Let  thy  church  be  glad  in  thee,  and  all  in 
this  nation,  and  everywhere  throughout  the 
world  who  regard  and  love  thy  name.  By  the 
power  and  efficacy  of  the  gospel,  may  their 
number  be  daily  augmented,  and  let  the  gifts 
of  thy  grace  be  also  increased  in  them  all. 
Bless  this  university  ;  let  it  be  like  a  garden 
watered  by  thy  heavenly  hand,  that  thy  ten- 
der shoots  may  grow,  and  in  due  time  produce 
abundant  fruits,  to  the  eternal  honor  of  thy 
most  glorious  name,  through  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  Atnen. 


VALEDICTORY  ORATION. 


Though  this,  I  imagine,  is  the  last  address 
I  shall  ever  have  occasion  to  make  lo  you,  I 
will  not  detain  you  long  from  your  studies,  nor 
encroach  on  the  time  allowed  you  for  recrea- 
tion. This  is,  to  be  sure,  the  first  time  that 
some  of  you  have  heard  me  ;  but  I  have  a 
great  many  others  to  bear  witness  of  the  con- 
stant design  of  all  my  dissertations  in  this 
place.  They  will  testify  that  the  intention 
of  all  ray  discourses  was,  that  the  form  of 
sound  words,  that  is,  the  Christian  doctrine, 
and  consequently  the  fear  and  love  of  God, 
might  not  only  be  impressed,  but  also  engra- 
ven upon  your  hearts  in  lasting  and  indelible 
characters:  and  that  you  might  not  only  ad- 
mit as  a  truth,  but  also  pay  the  highest  re- 
gard tf)  this  indispuiable  tnaxim,  that  "  piety 
and  religion  is  the  only  real  good  among 
men.''t  Moreover,  that  your  minds  might 
be  the  less  encumbered  in  their  application 
to  this  grand  study  of  religion,  and  the  more 
expeditious  in  their  progress  therein,  I  con- 
stantly endeavor(!d,  with  all  possible  warmth, 
to  divert  you  from  those  barren  and  thorny 
questions  and  disputes  that  have  infected  the 

•  Cclsior  exiirgpiis  pluviis  nimbosque  cadcnlps. 

Sut)  pediliiis  ccrncris,  <;l  wrca  tmiitrua  calcans. 
t  'On  Ip  Kai  jtivov  Iv  diiDfumoti  aya96ii  fi  ivailicta, 

91 


whole  of  theology  ;  and  this  at  a  time  whctt 
the  greatest  part  of  divines  and  professors, 
and  those  of  no  small  reputation,  engaging- 
furiously  in  such  controversies,  have  split 
into  parties,  and  unhappily  divided  the  whole 
world.  It  was  my  constant  practice  to  estab- 
lish those  great  and  uncontrovcrted  articles 
of  our  h(;ly  religion,  which  are  hut  few  and 
clear  ;  some  part  whereof  are  confirmed  by 
the  common  consent  ol' nations,  and  of  all  the 
human  race  ;  and  all  the  rest,  by  the  unani- 
mous voice  of  the  whole  Christian  world.  Of 
the  first  sort  are  those  we  have  ol'ten  advanced 
in  treating  of  the  being  and  perfections  of  the 
One  Supreme  and  Eternal  principle,  and  the 
production  of  all  things  by  him  ;  the  continu- 
al preservation  and  governTnent  of  the  world 
by  his  providence  ;  the  law  of  God  given  to 
mankind,  and  the  rewards  and  punishments 
annexed  to  it.  The  other  class  of  the  grand 
articles  of  religion  are  indeed  peculiar  to 
Christian  philosophy,  but  bi'licved  in  common 
by  all  the  professors  of  that  religion.  7'hese 
are  the  great  foundations  of  our  I'aitli,  and  of 
all  our  hope  and  joy,  with  regard  to  the  in- 
carnation of  the  Son  of  (Jod,  his  death  and 
resurrection  for  the  destruction  of  sin,  and 
consequently  of  death  ;  his  ascension  into  th« 


722 


VALEDICTORY  ORATION. 


highest  heavens  with  that  same  flesh  of  ours 
in  which  lie  died,  and  his  exaltation  there 
above  all  ranks  of  angels,  dominions,  and 
thrones,  &c. ;  whence  we  expect  he  will  re- 
turn in  £;reat  glory  in  '.hat  day.  when  he  will 
be  glorious  in  all  his  saints,  and  admired  in 
those  that  believe.  As  many,  therefore,  as 
desire  to-receive  him  in  this  last  nianii'esia- 
tion,  with  joy  and  exultation,  must  of  neces- 
sity be  holy,  and,  in  conformity  to  their  most 
perfect  and  glorious  Head,  sober,  pious,  up- 
right, and  live  in  full  contempt  of  this  perish- 
ing, transitory  world,  their  own  mortal  Hesh, 
and  the  sordid  jileasures  of  both  :  in  a  word, 
all  the  enjoyments  which  the  mean  and  ser- 
vile admire,  they  must  trample  under  foot 
and  despise.  For,  whoever  will  strive  for 
this  victory,  and  strive  so  as  at  last  to  obtain 
it,  the  r^jrd  will  own  for  his  servant,  and  the 
great  Jlaster  will  acknowledge  him  for  his 
disciple.  He  will  attain  a  likeness  to  God  in 
this  earth,  and,  after  a  short  conflict,  will  tri- 
umph iii  the  Divine  presence  forever.  These 
are  the  doctrines  which  it  is  our  interest  to 
know,  and  in  the  observation  of  which  our 
happiness  will  be  secured.  To  these  you 
will  turn  your  thoughts,  young  gentlemen,  if 
you  are  wise  ;  nay,  to  these  you  ought  to  give 
due  attention,  that  you  maybe  wise.  Those 
phantoms  we  catch  at,  fly  away  ;  this  shadow 
of  a  life  we  now  live,  is  likewise  on  the  wing. 
Those  things  that  are  without  the  verge  of 
sense,  and  above  its  reach,  are  the  only  solid 
and  lasting  enjoyments.  "  Why  are  ye  fond 
of  these  earthly  things,"  says  St.  Bernard, 
"  which  are  neither  true  riches,  nor  are  they 
yours  ?  If  they  are  yours,"  continues  he, 
"  take  them  with  you."*  And  Lactantius 
admirably  well  observes,  that  "  Whoever  pre- 
fers the  lil'e  of  the  soul,  must  of  necessity  de- 
spise that  of  the  body  ;  nor  can  he  aspire  to 
the  highest  good,  unless  he  despise  advan- 
tages ol'  an  inferior  kind.  For  the  all-wise 
God  did  not  choose  that  we  should  attain  to 
immortality  in  a  soft,  indolent  way,  but  that 
we  should  gain  that  inexpressible  reward  of 
eternal  life,  with  the  highest  difiiculty  and  se- 
verest labor."!  And  that  you  may  not  be  dis- 
couraged, remember  the  great  Redeemer  of 
souls,  your  exalted  Captain,  hath  gone  before 
you,  and  we  have  to  do  with  an  enemy  alreadv 
conquered.  Let  us  only  follow  him  with 
courage  and  activity,  and  we  ha  e  no  ground 
to  doubt  of  victory.  And  indeed  i  is  a  victory 
truly  worthy  of  a  Christian,  to  subdue  the 
barbarous  train  of  our  appetites,  and  subject 
them  to  the  empire  (;f  reason  and  religion  ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  most 

•  Quid  terrcna  hvnc  amplectimini,  qunr>  nec  \eT:v 
diviti*  sunt,  nec  vestrt?  Si  vestraj  sunt,  toUite  vo- 
biscum. 

t  Quisquis  animie  vitam  maluerit,  corporis  vitam 
contemn;it  nrccsse  eft,  nec  aliter  aspirare  ad  sum- 
muin  poterf.  t]oiiiiin,  nisi  qii:r  sunt  iina  dcsprxeril. 
Noluitenim  sapifntissimiis  Deiis,  nos  inimorlalitalcin 
delicate  ac  moilitcr  assequi,  sed  ad  illud  vit^  ii  ternn' 
inenarrabile  pm  iniuin  summa  cum  diilicultate  et  mag- 
Bis  jiboribus  pervenire. 


shameful  bondage,  to  have  tlie  more  Divma 
part  of  our  composition  meanly  subjected  to 
an  ignoble,  earthly  body.  Now,  this  victory  * 
can  only  be  secured  by  steadfast  believing, 
vigorous  o[>position  to  our  S|)iritual  enemies, 
unwearied  watching,  and  incessant  jiraver. 
Let  prayer  be  not  only  the  key  that  opens  tht 
day,  and  the  lock  that  shuts  out  the  night; 
but  let  it  be  also,  from  morning  to  niaht,  our 
staff  and  stay  in  all  our  labors,  and  enable  us 
to  go  cheerfully  up  into  the  mount  of  God. 
Prayer  brings  consolation  to  the  languishing 
soul,  drives  away  the  devil,  and  is  the  great 
medium  whereby  all  grace  and  peace  is  com- 
municated to  us.  With  regard  to  your  read- 
ing, let  it  be  your  particular  care  to  be  famil- 
iarly acquainted  with  the  sacred  Scriptures 
above  all  other  books  whatever  ;  for  thence 
you  will  truly  derive  light  for  your  direction, 
and  sacred  provisions  for  yoursujiport  on  your 
journey.  In  subordination  to  these,  you  may 
also  use  the  writings  of  pious  men  that  are 
agreeable  to  them,  for  these  also  you  may  im- 
prove to  your  advantage  :  and  particularly 
that  little  book  of  a  Kenipis,  "  De  Jmitatione 
Chrisli,'"  since  the  sum  and  substance  of  re- 
ligion consists  in  imitating  the  Being  that  is 
the  object  of  your  worship. 

May  our  dear  Redeemer  Jesus  impress  up- 
on your  minds  a  lively  representation  of  his 
own  meek  and  immaculate  heart,  that,  in 
that  great  and  last  day,  he  may,  by  this 
mark,  know  you  to  be  his  ;  and,  together  with 
all  the  rest  of  his  sealed  and  redeemed  ones, 
admit  you  into  the  mansions  of  eternal  bliss  ! 
Amen. 

Let  us  pray. 

Eternal  Creator  and  supreme  Governor 
of  the  world,  songs  of  praise  are  due  to  thee 
in  Zion  :  nay,  as  thou  art  infinitely  superior 
to  all  our  songs  and  hymns,  even  silence  in 
Zion  redounds  to  thy  praise.  Let  the  socie- 
ties of  angels  be  rather  employed  in  singing 
thy  praises;  but  let  us  with  silence  and  as- 
tonishment fall  down  at  the  footstool  of  thy 
throne,  while  they  are  taken  up  in  the  repeti- 
tion of  their  celebrated  doxology.  Hob/,  holy, 
holy,  Lord  God  of  hosts,  who  fillest  the 
heaven  and  the  earth  with  thy  glory  !  But 
0  that  we  had  within  us  proper  powers  for 
exalting  that  most  sacred  Name  !  that  name 
which,  according  to  their  measure,  is  cele- 
brated by  all  the  parts  of  this  visible  world 
which  surrounds  us,  the  heavens,  the  stars, 
the  winds,  the  rivers,  the  earth,  the  ocean, 
and  all  the  creatures  therein.  Thou  surely 
didst  at  first  implant  in  us  souls  and  powers, 
for  this  purpose,  superior  to  the  rest  of  tha 
visible  creation:  as  we  were  then  not  only 
qualified  to  offer  thee  praises  founded  on  the 
rati(jnal  conviction  of  our  miiul.-,  and  anima- 
ted by  the  affections  of  our  hearts,  but  also 
cajiable  of  pronouncing  more  articulately 
even  the  praises  that  result  from  all  he  rest 
of  thy  visible  works.  But,  alas  !  these  heav- 


A  DEFENCE  OF  MODERATE  EPISCOPACY. 


7S3 


enly  souls,  these  principles  proceeding  from 
a  Divine  oiiginal,  we  have  most  deeply  im- 
mersed in  mire  and  dirt :  nor  is  any  hand 
able  to  extricate  them  out  of  this  mud,  or 
cleanse  thetn  from  their  pollution,  but  thine. 
0  most  exalted  and  bountiful  Father,  if  thou 
wilt  graciously  please  to  grant  us  this  grace 
and  favor,  we  shall  then  offer  thee  new  songs 
of  praise  as  incense,  and  ourselves  thus  re- 
newed as  a  burnt  offering :  and  all  the  rest 
of  our  time  in  this  world  we  shall  live,  not 
to  ourselves,  but  wholly  to  Him  who  died 
for  us. 


May  thy  church  throughout  the  wholt 
earth,  and  especially  in  these  islands,  be  sup- 
ported by  thy  most  powerful  hand,  and  con- 
tinually be  made  to  rejoice  in  the  light  of  thy 
gracious  countenance.  Let  our  king  be  joy- 
ful in  thee  ;  as  he  depends  on  thy  bounty,  let 
him  never  be  moved  ;  lei  his  throne  be  es- 
tablished in  piety  and  righteousness,  and  let 
peace,  and  the  gospel  of  peace,  be  the  con- 
stant blessings  of  these  kingdoms,  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  ;  to  whom,  with  thee, 
and  the  Holy  Spirit,  be  praise,  honor,  and 
glory,  now,  and  for  evermore.  Amen. 


A  MODEST  DEFENCE  OF  MODERATE  EPISCOPACY. 

AS  ESTABLISHED  IN  SCOTLAND  AT  THE  RESTORATION  OF  KING  CHARLES  II. 


Episcopal  government,  managed  in  con- 
junction with  presbyters,  presbyteries,  and 
synods,  is  not  contrary  to  the  rule  of  Scrip- 
ture, or  the  example  of  the  primitive  church, 
but  most  agreeable  to  botli. 

Yea,  it  is  not  contrary  to  that  new  cove- 
nant, wiiich  is  pretended  by  so  many  as  the 
main,  if  not  the  only,  reason  of  their  scru- 
pling; and  for  their  sakes  it  is  necessary  to 
add  this  :  for  notwithstanding  the  many  ir- 
rei:iilarities  both  in  the  matter  and  form  of 
lhai  covenant,  and  in  the  illegal  and  violent 
ways  of  pressing  and  prosecuting  of  it,  yet, 
10  them  who  still  remain  under  the  con- 
science of  lis  full  force  and  obligation,  and  in 
that  some  are  inconvincibly  persuaded,  it  is 
rertainly  most  pertinent,  if  it  be  true,  to  de- 
clare the  consisience  of  the  present  govern- 
ment even  with  that  obligation. 

And  as  both  of  these  assertions,  I  believe, 
upon  the  exactesi  (if  impartial  and  impas- 
sionate)  inquiry,  will  be  found  to  be  in  them- 
selves true,  so  they  are  owned  by  the  gener- 
ality of  the  presbyterians  in  England,  as 
themselves  have  published  their  o[)inions  in 
print,  with  this  title.  Two  papers  of  propo- 
sals, humbly  presented  to  his  mnjes/y,  hy  the 
reverend  ministers  of  the  preshytcrtan  per- 
suasion.   Printed  at  London,  anno  16(51. 

Besides  other  passages  in  those  papers  to 
the  same  purpose,  in  pages  11  and  12,  are 
these  words  :  "  And  as  these  are  our  general 
ends  and  motives,  so  we  are  induced  to  in- 
«ist  upon  the  form  of  a  synodical  govern- 
ment, conjunct  with  a  fixed  presidency  or 
episcopacy  ;  for  these  reasons: 

"  1.  We  have  reason  to  believe  that  no 
other  terms  will  be  so  generally  agreed  on, 
4-c. 

"  2.  It  being  a£rreeable  to  the  Scripture  and 
the  primitive  government,  is  likeliest  to  be 
'.he  way  of  a  more  universal  concord,  if  ever 


the  churches  on  earth  arrive  at  such  a  bles- 
sing :  however,  it  will  be  m<jst  acceptable  to 
God  and  well-informed  consciences. 

"3.  It  will  promote  the  practice  of  disci- 
pline and  godliness  without  discord,  and  pro- 
mote order  without  hindering  discipline  and 
godliness. 

"  4.  And  it  is  not  to  be  silenced  (though 
in  some  respects  we  are  loath  to  mention  it), 
that  it  will  save  the  nations  from  the  viola- 
tion of  the  solemn  vow  and  covenant,  with- 
out wronging  the  church  at  all,  or  breaking 
any  other  oath,"  <!(c. 

And  a  little  after,  they  add,  that  "  the 
prelacy  disclaimed  in  that  covenant,  was  the 
engrossing  the  sole  power  of  ordination  and 
jurisdiction,  and  exercising  of  the  whole  dis- 
cipline, absolutely  by  bishops  themselves,  and 
their  delegates,  chancellors,  surrogates,  and 
officials,  &c.,  excluding  wholly  the  pastors 
of  particular  churches  from  all  share  in  it." 

And  there  is  one  of  prime  note  among 
them,  who,  in  a  large  treatise  of  church  gov- 
ernment, does  clearly  evidence,  that  this 
was  the  mind  both  of  the  parliament  of 
England,  and  of  the  assembly  of  divines  at 
Westminster,  as  they  themselves  did  ex- 
pressly declare  it  in  the  admitting  of  the 
covenant,  that  "  they  understood  it  not  to  be 
against  all  episcopacy,  but  only  against  that 
particular  frame,"  as  it  is  worded  in  the  ar- 
ticle itself*  As  for  our  present  model  in 
Scotland,  and  the  way  of  managing  it,  what- 
soever is  amiss  (and  it  can  be  no  wrong  to 
make  that  supposition  concerning  any  church 
on  earth),  the  brethren  that  are  dissatisfied 
had  possibly  better  acquitted  their  duty,  by 

*  Baxter  of  Church  Government,  P.  III.,c.  l,tit.. 
page  275.  '■  An  episcopacy  tlesiriible  for  the  refor 
mation,  preservation,  and  peace  of  the  chnrclies,  a 
fixed  president,  durante  vUa."  See  pp.  297,  and  330 
ibid. 


A  DEFENCE  OF  MODERATE  EPISCOPACY. 


fiee  admonitions  and  significations  of  their 
own  sense  in  all  tilings,  liian  by  leaving  their 
stations,  which  is  tiie  only  thing  tiiat  has 
made  the  breach,  I  fear,  very  hard  to  cure, 
and,  in  human  appearance,  near  to  incurable. 
But  there  is  mucli  charity  due  to  those  fol- 
lowing their  own  consciences  :  and  they  owe, 
and  I  hope  they  pay,  the  same  back  again  to 
those  that  do  the  same  another  way.  And 
whatsoever  may  be  the  readiest  and  happiest 
way  of  reuniting  those  thai  are  naturally  so 
minded,  the  Lord  reveal  it  to  them  in  due 
time. 

This  one  word  I  shall  add  :  that  this  dif- 
ference should  arise  to  a  great  height,  may 
seem  somewhat  strange  to  any  man  that 
calmly  considers,  that  there  is  in  this  church 
no  change  at  all,  neither  in  the  doctrine  nor 
worship :  no,  nor  in  the  substance  of  the 
discipline  itself  But  when  it  falls  on  matter 
easily  inflammable,  a  little  spark  how  great 
a  fire  it  will  kindle  ! 

Oh  !  who  would  not  long  for  the  shadows 
of  the  evening,  from  all  these  poor  childish 
contests ! 

But  some  will  say,  that  we  are  engaged 
against  prelacy  by  covenant,  and  therefore 
can  not  yield  to  so  much  as  you  do,  without 
perjury. 

An.1.  That  this  is  wholly  untrue  I  thus 
demonstrate:  I.  When  that  covenant  was 
presented  to  the  assembly  with  the  bare  name 
of  prelacy  joined  to  popery,  many  contrary 
and  reverend  divines  desired  that  the  word 
(prelacy)  might  be  explained,  because  it  was 
not  all  episcopacy  they  were  against  ;  and 
thereupon  the  following  clause,  in  the  paren- 
thesis, was  given  by  way  of  explication,  in 
these  words:  (That  the  church  government 
by  arclibishops,  bishops,  their  chancellors, 
and  conmiissaries,  deans,  and  chapters,  arch- 
deacons, and  all  other  ecclesiastical  officers 
depending  on  that  hierarchy.)  By  which  it 
appears,  that  it  was  only  the  English  hier- 
archy or  frame,  that  was  covenanted  against ; 
and  that  which  was  then  existent,  that  was 
taken  down. 

II.  When  the  house  of  lords  took  the  cov- 
enant, Mr.  Thomas  Coleman,  that  gave  it 
them,  did  so  explain  it,  and  profess  that  it 
was  not  their  intent  to  covenant  against  all 
episcopacy  ;  and  upon  this  explication  it  was 
taken  ;  and  certainly  the  parliament  was 
most  capable  of  giving  the  due  sense  of  it, 
seeing  it  was  they  thai  did  impose  it. 

III.  And  it  could  not  be  all  episcopacy  that 
was  excluded,  because  a  parochial  episcopa- 
cy was  at  that  same  time  used  and  approved 
commonly  in  Eagland. 

IV.  And  in  Scotland  they  had  used  the 
help  of  visiters,  for  the  reformation  of  their 
churches,  committing  the  care  of  a  country 
or  circuit  to  some  one  man,  which  was  as 
Ligli  a  sort  of  episcopacy  at  least  as  any  I 
am  pleading  for:  besides  that  they  had  mod- 
iTators  in  all  their  synods,  which  were  tem- 
.iorary  bishops. 


V.  Also,  the  chief  divines  of  the  late  as- 
sembly at  Westminster,  that  recommended 
that  covenant  to  the  nations,  have  professed 
their  own  judgment  for  such  a  moderate 
episcopacy  as  I  am  here  defending,  and  there- 
fjre  they  never  intended  the  exclusion  of  this 
'jy  covenant. 

After  the  same  author  saith,  "As  we  have 
prelacy  to  be  aware  of,  so  we  have  the  con- 
trary extreme  to  avoid;  and  the  church's 
peace,  if  it  may  be  so  procured  ;  and  as  we 
must  not  take  down  the  ministry  lest  it  pre- 
pare men  for  episcopacy,  so  neither  must  we 
be  against  any  profitable  use  and  exercise  of 
the  ministry,  or  desirable  order  among  them, 
for  fear  of  introducing  prelacy,"  &c. 

There  is  another  that  has  wrote  a  treatise 
on  purpose,  and  that  zealous  enough,  con- 
cerning the  obligation  of  the  league  and  cov- 
enant, under  the  name  of  Theophilus  Tirner> 
cus,  and  yet  therein  it  is  expressly  asserted 
that  however  at  first  view  it  might  appear, 
that  the  parliament  had  renounced  all  epis- 
copacy, yet,  upon  exacter  inquiry,  it  was  ev- 
ident to  the  author  that  that  very  scruple 
was  made  by  some  members  in  parliament, 
and  resolved,  with  the  consent  of  their  breth- 
ren in  Scotland,  that  the  covenant  was  only 
intended  against  prelacy  as  it  was  then  in 
being  in  England,  leaving  a  latitude  for  epis- 
copacy, &c. 

It  would  be  noted,  that  when  that  cove- 
nant was  framed,  there  was  no  episcopacy  at 
all  in  being  in  Scotland,  but  in  England  only 
so  that  the  extirpation  of  that  frame  only 
could  then  be  merely  intended. 

Likewise,  it  would  be  considered  of,  thougl 
there  is  in  Scotland  at  present  the  name  o\ 
dean  and  chapter  and  commissaries,  yet,  iha . 
none  of  these  do  exercise  at  all  any  part  of 
the  discipline  under  that  name,  neither  jiUy 
other,  as  chancellor,  or  surrogate,  &c.,  by 
delegation  from  bishops,  with  total  exclusion 
of  the  community  of  presbyters  from  all  pow 
er  and  share  in  it;  which  is  the  greatest  point 
of  difTerence  between  that  model  and  thia 
with  us,  and  imports  so  much  as  to  the  main 
of  discipline. 

I  do  not  deny  that  the  generality  of  the 
people,  even  of  ministers  in  Scotland,  when 
they  took  the  covenant,  did  understand  that 
article  as  against  all  episcopacy  whatsoever, 
even  the  most  moderate:  especially  if  it 
should  be  restored  under  the  express  name 
of  bishops  and  archbishops  ;  never  consider- 
ing how  different  the  nature  and  model,  and 
way  of  exercising  it,  might  be  thought  on 
under  these  names,  and  that  the  due  regu- 
lating of  the  thing  is  much  more  to  be  re- 
garded than  either  the  returning  or  altering 
the  name.  But  though  they  did  not  then 
consider  any  such  thing,  yet  certainly  it  con- 
cerns them  now  to  consider  it,  wiien  it  is 
represented  to  them  that  not  only  the  words 
of  the  oath  itself  do  very  genuinely  consist 
with  such  a  qualified  and  distinctive  sense, 
but  that  the  very  composers  and  imposen 


A  FRAGMENT 

of  it,  or  a  considerable  part  of  them,  did  so 
understand  and  intend  it.  And  unless  they 
can  make  it  appear  that  the  episcopacy  now 
in  question  with  us  in  Scotland  is  either  con- 
trary to  the  word  of  God,  or  to  that  mitiga- 
ted sense  of  their  own  oath,  it  would  seem 
more  suitable  to  Christian  charity  and  mod- 
eration, rather  to  yield  to  i;,  as  tolerable  al 
least,  than  to  continue  so  inflexibly  to  their 
first  mistakes,  and  excessive  zeal  for  love  of 
it,  as  to  divide  from  the  church,  and  break 
the  bond  of  peace. 

It  may  likewise  be  granted,  that  some 
leained  men  in  England,  who  have  refused 
to  take  the  covenant,  did  possibly  except 
against  that  article  of  it,  as  signifying  the  to- 
tal renunciation  and  abolition  of  episcopacv, 
and  seeing  that  it  was  the  real  event  and  con- 
sequence of  it,  and  they  having  many  other 
strong  and  weighty  reasons  for  refusing  it,  it 
is  no  wonder  that  they  were  little  curious  to 
inquire  what  passed  among  the  contrivers 
of  it,  and  what  distinction,  or  dilferent  senses, 
either  the  words  of  that  article  might  admit, 
or  those  contrivers  might  intend  by  them. 

And  the  truth  is,  that,  besides  many  other 
evils,  the  iniquity  and  unhappiness  of  such 
oaths  and  covenants  lie  much  in  this,  that 
being  cotnmonly  framed  by  persons  that,  even 
among  themselves,  are  not  fully  of  one  mind, 
but  have  their  different  opinions  and  interests 
to  serve  (and  it  was  so  even  in  ti)is),  they 
commonly  patch  up  so  many  several  articles 
and  clauses,  and  those,  too,  of  so  versatile  and 
ambiguous  terms,  that  they  prove  most  wretch- 
ed snares  and  thickets  of  briers  and  thorns  to 
the  consciences  of  those  who  are  engaged  in 
them,  and  matter  of  endless  contentions  and 
disputes  among  them,  about  the  true  sense  and 
intendment,  and  the  ties  and  obligations  oi' 
those  doubtful  clauses:  especially  in  sucii  al- 
terations and  revoluti{)ns  of  affairs  as  always 
may,  and  often  do,  even  within  few  years. 


ON  EZRA  IX.  725 

follow  after  them  ;  for  the  models  and  pro- 
ductions of  such  devices  are  not  usually  long- 
lived.  And  whatsoever  may  be  said  for  their 
excuse  in  whole  or  in  part,  who,  in  yielding 
to  the  power  that  pressed  it,  and  the  general 
opinion  of  this  church  at  that  time,  did  take 
that  covenant  in  the  most  moderate  and  least 
least  schismalical  sense  that  the  terms  can 
admit;  yet  I  know  not  what  can  be  said  to 
clear  them  of  a  very  great  sin,  that  not  only 
framed  such  an  engine,  but  violently  imposed 
it  upon  all  ranks  of  men  ;  not  ministers  and 
other  public  persons  only,  but  the  whole  body 
and  community,  to  such  a  hodge-podge  of 
things  of  various  concernments,  religious  and 
civil,  as  church  discipline  and  government, 
the  privileges  of  parliaments,  and  liberties 
of  subjects,  and  condign  punishment  of  ma- 
lignants — things  hard  enough  for  the  wisest 
and  learnedest  to  draw  the  just  lin»s  of,  and 
to  give  plain  definitions  and  decisions  of 
them,  and  therefore  certainly  a»  .ar  off  from 
the  reach  of  poor  country  people's  under- 
standing, as  from  the  true  interest  of  their 
souls.  And  yet  to  tie  them  by  a  religious 
oath,  either  to  know  all,  or  to  contend  for 
them  blindfold,  without  knowing  of  them 
where  will  there  he  instanced  a  greater  op- 
pression and  tyranny  over  consciences  than 
this*  Ceriainiy,  they  that  now  govern  in 
this  church  can  not  be  charged  with  any- 
thing near  or  like  unto  it:  for  whatsoever 
they  require  of  intrants  to  the  ministry,  they 
require  neither  subscriptions  nor  oatiis  of  min- 
isters already  entered,  and  far  less  of  the 
whole  body  of  the  people.  And  it  were  in- 
genuously done  to  take  some  notice  of  any 
point  of  moderation,  or  whatsoever  else  is 
really  commendable,  even  in  those  we  ac- 
count our  greatest  enemies,  and  not  to  take 
any  party  in  the  world  for  the  absolute  stand- 
ard and  unfailing  rule  of  truth  and  righteous- 
ness in  all  things. 


I 


A  FRAGMENT  ON  EZRA  IX. 


Our  loys  and  griefs  are  the  pulse  of  our 
hearts,  ind  tell  the  temper  of  them.  Earthly 
joy  and  sorrow  take  deep  with  an  earthly 
heart,  but  little  affect  that  which  is  spiritual 
and  heaven  y  :  and  in  this,  those  prayers  and 
griefs  are  strong  that  arise  from  spiritual 
causes,  which  most  of  men  scarcely  feel  at 
ail :  yea,  a  holy  heart  stays  not  in  its  own  in- 
terest, in  its  mourning  or  rejoicing,  but  hath 
more  sense  even  of  other  men's  sins,  than 
commonly  they  themselves  who  are  guilty. 
Rivers  of  tealfrs,  says  David,  run  down  mine 
eyfx,  hpcrivsi'  they  krep  not  lliy  hnr.  Psalm 
cxii.  136     Of  tnis  same  temper  was  this 


holy  man.  Oh  !  how  would  a  few,  how 
would  one  such  person  in  a  congregation, 
advance  the  work  of  a  public  fast,  more  than 
hundreds  of  us  !  And  such  an  one's  silence 
speaks  more  than  all  our  noises:  his  sitting 
astonished  till  the  evcnin<r  sncrijice.  Little, 
shallow  griefs  find  the  tongue  more  readily, 
but  the  greater  are  not  of  so  easy  vent,  but 
slop  awhile  though  pressing  to  be  out,  as  a 
full  vessel  with  a  narrow  mouth.  It  was  so 
with  Ezra's  sorrow  for  the  people's  sin  :  but 
when  it  gels  out,  it  springs  upward  with  the 
greater  force,  even  up  to  heaven.  7  fell  on 
my  knees,  and  spread  out  my  hands  to  the 


T26 


CHARGES  TO  THE  CLERGY. 


Lord  my  God,  and  said.  Oh  !  my  God,  /  atn 
as/iiiined,  our'  i/iii/uiiies  are  increased  over  our 
heads: — q.  (1.,  These  cover  me  with  shame, 
and  I  hlush  to  lift  up  my  face  to  those  heav- 
•jiis  wliither  our  iniquities  are  gone  up  he- 
fore  :  when  J  would  look  to  thee,  I  spy  our 
horrible  transgressions  got  ihilher  first,  and 
mutiny  of  tiie  people,  tiie-'eby  engaging  such 
droves  of  poor  ignuranl  persons  to  they  know 
not  what,  and  (to  speak  freely)  standmg  he- 
fore  thee  and  accusing  us.  Our  transgres- 
sion is  groivn  up  to  heacen.  It  hath  had  a 
long  time  to  grow  in,  and  all  that  time  hath 
been  incessantly  growing,  and  therefore 
grown  so  high.  Smce  the  days  of  our  fa- 
thers we  have  been  in  this  trespass.  Genera- 
tions pass,  but  yet  your  ains  abide.  When 
the  succeeding  genera'.ion  follows  on  in  it, 
the  former  sins  are  reserved,  and  the  latter 
added  to  them,  and  so  they  are  kept  alive. 
Thus  they  grow.  This  fills  up  the  measure, 
and  ripens  a  people  for  judgment,  that  is  fil- 
ling and  growing  all  the  while  suitable  to 


the  sin,  till  it  be  poured  out.  Hence  pubTk 
calamities  and  long-lasting  judgments  or. 
people. 

Mow  these  two  things  aggravate:  great 
judgments  inflicted,  and  great  deliverances 
granted.  Yet  after  both,  this  people  had  for- 
saken God's  commandments.  And  after  all 
that  is  come  upon  vs  for  our  evil  deeds,  and 
for  our  great  trespass,  seeing  that  thou  our 
God  hast  punished  us  less  than  our  iniquities 
deserve,  and  hast  gtveyi  us  such  deliverance 
as  this.  Is  not  this  just  our  case  ?  Have  we 
not  been  sharply  scourged,  though  indeed  far 
less  than  our  iniquities,  and  have  we  not 
been  seasonably  and  wonderfully  delivered 
in  our  extremities?  And  yet  have  -we  not 
again  broken  his  commandments?  And  do 
we  not  still  generally  and  grossly  continue 
so  doing !  Oh  !  what  shall  we  say  to  oui 
God?  We  can  not  stand  before  him,  because 
of  this.  Let  us,  therefore,  I'all  down  before 
him,  and  confess,  and  supplicate;  ^nd  there 
is  yet  hope  that  be  will  be  gracious. 


CHARGES 

TO  THE  CLERGY  OF  TIIE  DIOCESAN  SYNOD  OF  DUNBLANE. 


I.  Bishop  Lei ghionh  Charge  to  his  Clergy, 
Sept.  1662. 

FOR  DISCIPLINE. 

'  First,  That  all  diligence  be  used  for  the 
repressing  of  profaneness,  and  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  solid  piety. 

Secondly,  That  not  only  scandals  of  un- 
chastity,  but  drunkenness,  swearing,  cursing, 
filthy  speaking,  and  mocking  of  religion,  and 
all  other  gross  offences,  be  brought  under 
church  censure. 

Thirdly,  That  scandalous  offenders  be  not 
absolved  till  there  appear  in  them  very  prob- 
able signs  of  true  repentance. 

Fourthly,  That  inquiry  be  made  by  the 
minister,  not  only  into  the  knowledge,  but 
the  practice  and  track  of  life,  of  those  who 
are  to  be  admitted  to  the  holy  communion  ; 
and  all  profane  and  evidently  imoenitent  per- 
sons be  secluded  till  their  bef  ?r  conversa- 
tion and  obedience  to  the  gosp;  more  ap- 
parent. 

Fifthly,  That  family  prayer  be  inquired  af- 
ter;  and  they  that  can,  be  exhor'ed  to  join 
with  it  reading  of  the  Scriptures. 

yOR  WORSHIP. 

First,  That  instead  of  lecturing  and  preach- 
insr  both  at  one  meeting,  larger  portjons  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  one  whole  chapter  at 


least  of  each  Testament,  and  Psalms  withal, 
be  constantly  read  ;  and  this  not  as  a  by- 
worki  while  they  are  convening,  but  after  the 
people  are  well  convened,  and  the  worship 
solemnly  begun  with  confession  of  sins  and 
prayer,  either  by  the  minister  or  some  fit  per- 
son by  him  appointed. 

Secondly,  That  the  Lord's  Prayer  be  re- 
stored to  more  frequent  use  ;  likewise  the 
doxology  and  the  creed. 

Thirdly,  That  daily  public  prayer,  in 
churches,  morning  and  evening,  with  read- 
ing of  the  Scriptures,  be  used  where  it  can  be 
had  conveniently,  and  the  people  be  exliorted 
to  frequent  them  ;  not  so  as  to  think  that  this 
sliould  excuse  them  from  daily  private  prayer 
in  their  families  and  in  secret,  but  rather  as 
a  help  to  enable  them  and  dispose  them  the 
more  for  both  these  :  and  let  the  constant  use 
of  secret  prayer  be  recommended  to  all  per- 
sons, as  the  great  instrument  of  sanctifying 
the  soul,  ar.d  of  entertaining  and  increasing 
If  in  the  love  of  God. 

Fourthly,  That  the  young-er  sort  and  the 
ignorant  be  diligently  catechised,  at  fit  times, 
all  the  year  through  ;  and  that  work  not 
wholly  laid  over  on  some  days  or  weeks  be- 
fore the  celebration  of  the  communion  ;  but 
that  the  inquiry,  at  that  time,  be  rather  of 
their  good  conversation,  and  due  disposition 
for  partaking  of  that  holy  ordinance,  as  was 
said  before  in  an  article  touching  discipline. 


CHARGES  TO 

Fifthly.  That  ministers  use  some  short  form 
of  catechism,  such  as  they  may  require  ac- 
count of,  till  a  common  form  be  afjreed  on. 

Sixthly,  That  preaching;  be  plain  and  use- 
ful for  all  capacities  ;  not  entangled  wth  use- 
less questions  and  dispuies,  nor  continued  to 
a  wearisome  length  ;  the  great  and  most  ne- 
cessary principles  of  religion,  most  frequently 
treated  upon:  and  ofientime  larger  ponions 
of  Scripture  explained,  and  suiiable  instruc- 
tions and  exhortations  thence  deduced  ;  and 
let  that  be  the  sermon  at  that  time  ;  which 
will  doubtless  be  as  truly  preaching,  and  as 
useful,  if  not  more  so,  than  insisting,  for  a 
whole  sermon  or  more,  upon  one  short  verse 
cr  sentence. 

The  bishop  propounded  to  the  brethren, 
that  It  was  to  be  remembered,  by  himself 
and  them  both,  to  how  eminent  degrees  of 
purity  of  heart  and  life  their  holy  calling  doth 
engage  them  :  to  how  great  contempt  of  this 
present  world,  and  inflamed  affections  toward 
heaven,  springing  from  deep  persuasions  with- 
in them  of  those  things  they  preach  to  others, 
and  from  the  daily  meditation  of  them,  and 
fervent  prayer  :  and  that  they  consider  how 
ill  it  becomes  them  to  be  much  in  the  trivial 
conversation  of  the  world  ;  but,  when  their 
duty  or  necessity  involves  them  in  company, 
that  their  speech  and  deportment  be  exem- 
plarily  holy,  ministering  grace  to  those  with 
whom  they  converse:  and  (to  add  but  this  one 
thing,  so  suitable  to  ministers  of  the  gospel 
of  peace)  that  they  be  meek  and  gentle,  and 
lovers  and  exiiorters  of  peace,  private  and 
public,  among  all  ranks  of  men  ;  endeavoring 
rather  to  quench  than  to  increase  the  useless  j 
debates  and  contentions  that  abound  in  the 
world  :  and  that  ihey  be  always  more  studi- 
ous of  pacific  than  polemic  divinity,  that 
certainly  being  much  diviner  than  this,  for 
the  students  of  it  are  called  the  sons  of  God. 
Matt.  V.  9. 

JI.  The  Bishop's  Address  after  the  business 
was  over,  October,  16G5. 

After  the  affairs  of  the  synod  were  ended, 
the  bishop  showed  the  brethren  He  had  some- 
what to  impart  to  them  that  concerned  him- 
self, which,  though  it  imported  little  or  noth- 
ing, either  to  I  hem  or  the  church,  yet  he 
judged  it  his  duiy  to  acquaint  them  wilh  ; 
and  it  was,  the  resolution  he  had  taken  of  re- 
tiring from  this  public  charge:  and  thai  all 
the  account  he  could  give  of  the  reasons  mo- 
ving him  to  it,  was  briefly  this  :  the  sense  he 
had  of  his  own  unworihiness  of  so  high  a  sta- 
tion in  the  church,  and  his  weariness  jf  the 
contentions  of  this  church,  which  seemed  ra- 
ther 10  be  growing  than  abating,  and,  bv  iheir 
growth,  did  make  so  greai  abiitements  of  that 
Christian  meekness  and  mutual  charily,  that 
is  so  much  more  worth  than  the  whole  sum 
of  all  that  we  contend  about.  He  ilianked 
the  brethren  for  all  iheir  underserved  respect 
•ad  kindness  manifested  to  himself  all  along  ; 


THE  CLERGY.  727 

and  desired  their  gocd  construction  of  the 

poor  endeavors  he  had  used  to  serve  them, 
and  to  assist  them  in  promoting  the  work  of 
the  ministry,  and  the  great  designs  of  the 
gospel,  in  their  bounds;  and  if,  in  anything, 
in  word  or  deed,  he  had  offended  them,  or 
any  of  them,  he  very  earnestly  and  humbly 
craved  iheir  pardon  ;  and  having  recommend- 
ed to  them  to  continue  in  the  siudy  of  peace 
and  holiness,  and  of  ardent  love  to  our  great 
Lord  and  Master,  and  to  ihe  souls  he  hath  so 
dearly  bought,  he  closed  with  these  words  of 
the  apostle  :  "  Finally,  brethren,  farewell :  be 
perfect,  be  of  good  comfort,  be  of  one  mind, 
and  live  in  peace  ;  and  the  God  of  peace  and 
love  shall  be  with  you." 

HL  The  Bishop's  Charge,  October,  1666. 

L  It  was  enacted,  that  all  the  ministers 
do  endeavor  to  bring  their  people  to  a  high 
esieem  of  the  Holy  Scripture>,  and  of  the 
reading  of  them  in  public  :  and  to  give  evi- 
dence thereof,  by  reverent  and  attentive  hear- 
ing, none  being  permiited  to  sland  about  the 
doors,  or  lie  in  the  kirkyard,  during  the  time 
of  reading  ;  and  if,  after  warning  given  them 
of  this,  any  shall  be  found  to  continue  in  the 
same  disorder,  they  are,  by  due  rebukes  and 
censures,  to  be  brought  to  obedience. 

2.  That  the  minisiers  be  careful  to  direct 
the  readers  what  parts  of  the  Scriptures  are 
most  frequently  to  be  read:  as,  the  histories 
of  the  gospel,  and  the  epistles  ;  and  of  the  Old 
Testament,  the  most  intelligilile  and  i)racti- 
cable  pans,  particularly  large  |)ortions  of  the 

I  Psalms  at  all  times,  being  both  so  excellently 
instructive,  and  withal  so  divine  forms  of 
prayers  and  praises,  and  therefore  have  been 
so  much  used  by  the  Christian  churches  in  all 
ages,  and  always  made  so  great  a  part  of 
their  public  service. 

3.  That  no  readers  be  permitted,  but  such 
as  are  tried  and  approved  by  the  presbytery. 

4.  That,  besides  the  reading  between  the 
second  and  third  bell,  which  is  but  as  in  the 
interval  for  those  that  are  come,  till  the  rest 
do  convene,  some  part  of  the  Scriptures  be 
read  alter  the  last  bell  is  rung  out,  and  the 
Congregation  more  fully  met,  and  the  minis- 
ter is  come  in  :  either  by  himself,  or  by  the 
reader  at  his  appointment  ;  one  chapter  at 
least,  together  wilh  some  of  the  Psalms,  one 
or  more,  as  they  are  of  length,  and  of  which 
some  part  afterward  may  be  sung,  and  so  the 
people  shall  the  better  understand  what  they 
sing.  Thus  shall  this  so  useful  ordinance  of 
public  reading  of  the  Scri|)iures  be  performed 
with  more  solemnity,  and  brought  into  great- 
er respect  and  veneration,  and  the  people  be 
more  universally  and  plentifully  edified  by  it. 
But,  together  with  this,  the  reciting  of  the 
ten  commandments,  the  belief,  according  to 
the  acts  of  f)rmer  synods,  is  no  Lord's  day  to 
be  omitted.  Nor  is  this  only  or  mainly  meant 
as  a  help  to  the  peojjle's  learning  the  words 
of  Ihein,  and  so  being  able  to  repeat  theni, 


V28 


CHARGES  TO  THE  Cf.EEGY. 


but  as  a  solemn  publication  of  the  law  of  God. 
is  the  rulo  of  nur  lift',  and  a  solemn  |)rofession 
of  our  helievinii;  ilie  articles  of  our  Christian 
faiih,  and  for  the  quickening  of  our  atl'eciions 
toward  both. 

And  as  to  that  exercise  of  reading  the  Scrip- 
tures, it  can  not  be  imagined  that  any  well- 
instructed  and  solid-minded  Christian  can 
question  the  great  exjiediency  and  usefulness 
of  it  for  all  ranks  of  people :  for,  besides  tliai 
many  of  our  commons  can  not  read,  and  so 
can  not  use  the  Scripiurcs  in  private,  and  too 
many  thai  can,  yet  do  neglect  it ;  even  they 
that  use  tliein  most  in  private,  will  not  on  y 
no  whit  the  less,  but  so  much  the  more,  be 
well  satisfied  and  edified  with  hearing  them 
read  in  public,  and  will  more  reverently  and 
religiously  attend  to  them,  and,  with  the  bles- 
^  ng  of  God  ujion  them  so  doing,  not  fail  to 
ti.id  (wjiat  oiliers  can  say  they  iiave  often 
lound)  divers  passages  and  sentences  failing 
frequently  in  upon  tlieir  hearts  in  ])ublic  read- 
ing, with  particular  warmth  and  Divine  force, 
nothing  beknv,  if  not  sometimes  beyond,  what 
they  usually  find  in  private. 

If  the  minister  think  fit  to  make  his  sermon 
for  the  time,  upon  some  part  of  what,  by  him- 
self, or  by  his  appointment,  hath  been  read, 
it  may  do  well  ;  and  possibly  so  much  the 
better,  the  longer  the  text  be,  and  the  shorter 
the  sermon  be  ;  for  it  is  greatly  to  be  suspect- 
ed that  our  usual  way  of  very  short  texts,  and 
very  long  sermons,  is  apt  to  weary  people 
more,  and  profit  them  less. 

But,  whatsoever  they  do  in  this,  they  should 
beware  of  returning  to  tiieir  long  expositions, 
besides  their  sermon,  at  one  and  the  same 
meeting  ;  which,  besides  the  tediousness  and 
other  inconveniences,  is  apt  to  foment  in  peo- 
ple's minds  the  foolish  jircjudice  and  proud 
disdain  they  have  taken  against  the  Scriptures 
read  without  a  superadded  discourse:  inwhich 
conceit,  for  all  their  zeal  airainst  popery,  they 
seem  to  be  too  much  of  the  Romish  opinion, 
as  accounting  the  Holy  Scriptures  so  obscure 
in  themselves,  that  it  is  someway  dangerous, 
or  at  least  altogether  unprofitable,  to  intrust 
the  common  people  either  with  reading  or 
hearing  any  part  of  them  at  any  time,  unless 
they  be  backed  with  continual  expositions. 

5.  Thai  ministers  do  endeavor  to  reduce 
the  people  from  the  irreverent  deportment 
they  have  generally  contracted  in  the  public 
worship  :  particularly  from  their  most  inde- 
cent sittinir  at  prayer,  to  kneel  or  stand,  as 
conveniently  they  may,  that  we  may  worshiji, 
both  with  our  bodies  and  with  our  souls,  Him 
that  made  both,  and  made  them  'br  ihat  very 
end  Oh  !  how  needful  is  that  invitatory  to 
be  o.'ten  rung  in  our  ears,  that  seem  wholly 
to  have  forgot  it!  "Oh!  come,  and  let  us 
worship  and  bow  down,  and  kneel  before  the 
Lord  our  Maker." 

6.  That  people  be  frequently  and  earnestly 
exhorted  to  morning  and  evening  prayer  in 
their  families,  especially  the  prime  families 
m  parishes,  as  most  exemplary. 


7.  That  the  way  of  catechising  bf  more 
adapted  to  the  capacity  of  our  rude  and  igno- 
rant people  ;  and  that  our  sermons,  particu- 
larly those  of  the  af  ternoon,  may  be  more  fre- 
quently bestowed  on  the  moi5t  plain  and  in- 
telligible way  of  explaining  some  point  of 
catechetical  doctrine. 

8.  It  was  recommended,  that  convenient 
utensils  be  provided  in  every  kirk,  for  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  holy  sacraments. 

9.  That,  according  to  our  great  and  stand- 
ing duty,  we  be  still  more  and  more  zealous 
and  careful,  by  doctrine  and  disci[)line,  to 
purge  out  all  profaneness;  particularly  the 
most  common  and  crying  sins,  as  drunken- 
ness, cursing,  swearings,  railing,  and  bitter 
speaking,  and  rotten,  filthy  speaking,  so  usual 
among  the  common  sort,  in  their  house  or 
held  labor  together,  jiarticularly  in  harvest: 
and  that  it  be  by  all  ministers  recommended 
to  the  owners  of  the  crops,  and  overseers  of 
the  reapers,  to  range  them  so  to  their  work, 
and  in  such  divisions,  as  may  give  least  occa-. 
sion  to  anything  of  that  kind. 

10.  That,  as  we  ourselves  should  be  exem- 
plary in  holiness,  we  should  endeavor  that  our 
seniores  plebts,  or  elders  of  the  people,  be  so 
too  ;  and,  for  that  end,  rather  to  have  them 
well  chosen,  though  fewer,  than  a  great  num- 
ber of  such  as  too  often  they  are. 

11.  That  the  presbyteries  do  inquire  ofe?lch 
one  of  their  number  concerning  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  communion,  that  at  least  our  usual 
returns  of  it  be  neglected  by  none  ;  for  it  is 
one  of  the  great  defects  and  reproaches  of  our 
church,  that  that  great  ordinance,  being  so 
useful  for  the  increase  of  holiness,  should  be 
so  seldom  administered,  as  with  us  it  is,  even 
where  it  is  oftenest.  For  the  way  of  examina- 
tion in  order  to  it,  somewhat  is  set  down  in 
our  first  synod,  which  may  be  looked  at,  if 
possibly  it  may  prove  to  be  of  any  use. 

IV.  Paper  given  in  by  the  Bishop  to  the  Synod, 
April,  1667. 

I  CONFESS  that  my  own  inactive  and  unmed- 
dling  temper  may  be  too  apt  to  prevail  against 
the  known  duty  of  my  station,  and  may  in- 
cline me  rather  to  inquire  too  little  than  too 
much  into  the  deportment  of  others  ;  and  ra- 
ther to  be  deficient,  than  to  exceed  in  admo- 
nitions and  advices  to  my  brethren,  in  mat- 
ters of  their  duly  :  and,  besides  this  natural 
aversion,  the  sense  of  my  own  great  un wor- 
thiness and  nitnmess,  may  give  me  check,  and 
be  a  very  strong  curb  upon  me,  in  censuring 
others  for  wiiat  may'  be  amiss,  or  in  ofTering 
anv  rules  for  the  redress  of  it.  And  there  is  yet 
another  consideration,  that  bends  siill  further 
liiat  wav  ;  for  I  am  so  desirous  to  keep  far  off 
from  the  reach  of  that  [jrejudice  that  abounds 
in  these  parts  against  the  very  name  of  my 
sacred  function,  as  apt  to  command  and  domi- 
neer too  much,  thai  I  may  possibly  err  on  the 
other  hand,  and  scarcely  perform  the  duty  of 
the  lowest  and  most  moderate  kind  of  mod 


CHARGES  TO  THE  CLERGY. 


729 


erator  ;  so  that  I  am  forced  to  spur  and  drive 
ip  myself  againsi  all  these  retardments,  to 
suggest  anything,  how  useful  soever,  beyond 
our  road  or  accustomed  way,  especially  find- 
ing how  little  anything  of  that  kind  takes,  and 
prevails  to  any  real  effect. 

However,  when  anything  appears  to  me  of 
evident  reason  and  usefulness,  and  that  easily 
joins  in,  and  paceth  with,  our  standing  cus- 
toms, I  judge  it  my  duty  to  offer  it  to  you  ; 
and  I  hope,  if  thai  ye  shall  find  it  of  any  use, 
ye  will  not  reject  it,  but  rather  improve  it  to 
somewhat  belter,  that  by  occasion  of  it  may 
arise  in  your  own  thoughts. 

Something  of  this  kind  I  have  formerly 
moved,  concerning  the  way  of  dealing  with 
persons  fallen  into  scandalous  sin  :  frequent 
speaking  with  them  in  private,  to  the  con- 
vincing and  awakening  their  consciences  to  a 
lively  sense  of  sin,  and  directing  them  in  the 
exercises  of  repentance,  and  exhorting  them 
to  set  apart  some  time  for  the  solid  humbling 
of  their  souls  in  fasting  and  prayer;  and  not 
to  admit  them  to  public  confession,  until  they 
have,  to  our  best  discerning,  some  real  heart- 
sense  of  sin,  and  remorse  for  it,  and  serious 
purposes  of  newness  of  life. 

Likewise,  I  suggested  somewhat  touching 
the  way  of  examining  of  all  persons,  toward 
their  admission  to  the  holy  communion,  be- 
sides the  ordinary  way  of  catechising  the 
younger  and  more  ignorant  sort ;  and  some 
other  particulars  much  like  these,  that  now  I 
will  not  repeat. 

That  which  I  would  recommend  at  this 
time,  relates  to  the  business  of  privy  trials 
(as  they  are  called)  of  ministers  in  their  pres- 
byteries, toward  the  time  of  the  synod  ;  in 
which  I  have  perceived,  in  some  places  (ifl 
may  be  pardoned  that  free  word),  very  mucli 
of  superficial,  empty  form  ;  for  the  help  of 
which,  besides  other  ways  which  might  be 
thought  on,  that  which  occurs  to  me  at  pres- 
ent, is  this:  That  some  certain  questions  he 
asked  of  every  minister  before  he  withdraws  ; 
and  these  be  much  the  same  with  those  that 
usually  are,  or  fitly  may  be,  propounded  to 
the  elders  and  people  concerning  their  minis- 
ters, at  tiie  visitation  of  particular  kirks.  For 
though,  in  the  case  we  now  speak  of,  we  can 
have  nothing  but  every  man's  own  word  con- 
cerning himself,  yet  this  does  not  render  it  a 
useless  tliinor:  for,  besides  that  divers  of  the 
questions  will  be  of  things  so  obvious  to  pub- 
lic knowledge,  that  n<j  man  will  readily  ad- 
venture to  give  an  untrue  answer,  where  it 
may  )e  so  readily  traced,  there  much  to 
be  given  to  the  presumed  ingenuity  and  vi- 
vacity of  a  minister,  especially  in  what  is  sol- 
emnly and  punctually  iiujuired  of  him;  and 
whatsoever,  formerly,  hath  been,  or  hath  not 
been,  his  former  degree  of  diligence  in  the 
particulars,  the  very  inquiry  and  asking  con- 
:;erning  them,  will  he  a[)t  to  awake,  in  every 
man,  a  more  sericms  reflection  upon  himself 
touciiing  each  point  ;  and  the  drawing  forth 
luch  an  express  answer  to  each  before  his 
92 


brethren,  will  probably  excite  and  engage 
him  to  higher  exactness  in  all  of  them  for 
the  time  to  come. 

The  particulars  I  conceive  may  be  these, 
and  such  others  like  them,  as  may  be  further 
thought  fit. 

\.  Whether  he  be  constantly  assiduous  in 
plain  and  profitable  preaching,  instructing, 
and  exhorting,  and  reproving,  most  express- 
ly and  frequently,  those  sins  that  abound 
most  among  his  people  :  and  in  all  things,  to 
his  best  skill,  fitting  his  doctrine  to  the  ca- 
pacities, necessities,  and  edification  of  all 
sorts  within  his  charge  ? 

2.  Whether  he  be  diligent  in  catechising, 
employing  throughout  the  year  such  seasons 
and  times  for  it,  as  may  be  easiest  and  fittest 
for  the  people  to  attend  it,  and  not  wholly' 
casting  it  over  upon  some  few  days  or  weeks 
near  the  time  of  the  communion. 

3.  How  often  in  the  year  he  celebrates  the 
holy  communion  ?  For  I  am  ashamed  to  say, 
whether,  at  least,  once  every  year? 

4.  Whether  he  does  faithfully  and  impar- 
tially exercise  discipline,  and  bring  all  known 
scandals  to  due  censure  ;  and  does  speak  pri- 
vately, and  that  ofiener  than  once,  with  the 
persons  convicted,  and  admits  them  not  to 
public  acknowledgment,  till  he  sees  in  them 
some  probable  signs  of  true  repentance? 

5.  Wheiher  he  be  diligent,  by  himself  and 
his  elders,  in  all  convenient  ways,  to  know 
the  deportment  of  the  several  families  and 
persons  of  his  flock  :  and  do  frequently  visit 
the  families,  and  not  only  ask,  i)Ut  do  his  best 
certainly  to  inform  himself,  whether  they 
constantly  use  morning  and  evening  prayer, 
together  with  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  if 
they  have  any  that  can  do  it ;  and  wheiher 
this  point  of  family  exercise  be  s[)ecially  pro- 
vided for  in  the  choice  families  in  the  parish  ? 

6.  Whether  he  be  careful  of  the  relief  ol 
the  poor,  and  of  visiting  the, sick,  whensoev- 
er he  knows  of  any,  even  though  they  neg- 
lect to  send  for  him  ;  and  for  this  end  make 
inquiry,  and  the  rather  prevent  their  sending, 
because  they  commonly  defer  that,  till  it  can 
be  of  little  or  no  use  to  them  ? 

7.  Whether  he  does  in  private  plainly  and 
freely  admonish  those  he  knows,  or  hath  cause 
to  suspect,  to  be  given  to  uncleanness,  or 
drunkenness,  or  swearing,  or  any  kind  of  in- 
ordinate walking,  especially  if  they  he  of  that 
quality  that  engages  him  frequently  to  con- 
verse with  them  ;  and  if  they  continue  such, 
leaves  off  that  converse  ;  and  if  their  miscar- 
riage be  public,  brings  them  to  public  cen- 
sure ? 

8.  Whether  he  watches  exactly  over  his 
own  conversati(jn  in  all  things,  that  he  not 
only  give  no  offence,  but  be  an  example  to 
the  flock,  and  preach  by  living  ? 

9.  Whether  he  s|)end  the  greatest  portions 
of  his  time  in  private,  in  reading,  and  prayer, 
and  meditation— a  thing  so  necessary  to  ena- 
blf  him  for  all  the  other  parls  of  his  duty  ? 

10.  Whether  he  makes  it  the  great  business, 


730 


CHARGES  TO  THE  CLERGY. 


ami  withal  the  £rreat  pleasure  of  liis  life,  to 
fultil  ihi'  wiirlv  dl'  his  ministry,  in  the  several 
parts  anil  iluiies  of  it,  out  of  love  to  God,  and 
to  the  st)uls  of  liis  people  1 

11.  If  he  does  not  only  avoid  gross  offences 
(which,  ill  a  yuide  of  suuls  were  intolerable), 
but  siudies  daily  to  innrtify  pride, and  rash  an- 
ger,and  vain-iilory, and  covetousnesSjaiid  hive 
of  thisworld  and  of  sensual  ])leasures,  and  sell- 
love,  and  all  inordinate  passions  and  affec- 
tions, even  in  those  instances  wherein  they 
are  suhiilest  and  least  discernible  by  ;ihers, 
and  commonly  too  little  discerned  by  our- 
selves ? 

12.  If  he  not  only  lives  in  peace  with  his 
brethren  and  llock,  and  withal  as  much  as  is 
possible,  but  is  an  ardent  lover,  and  promoter 
of  it,  reconciling  differences,  and  preserving 
good  agreement,  all  lie  can,  amongst  his 
people  ? 

It  hath  not  escaped  my  thoughts,  that  some 
of  these  questions,  being  of  things  more  in- 
ward, may  seem  less  fit  to  be  publicly  pro- 
pounded to  any  ;  and  that  the  best  observers 
of  them  will,  lioth  out  of  modesty,  and  real 
humility,  and  severe  judging  of  themselves, 
be  aptest  to  charge  iheniselves  with  deficien- 
cy in  ihcm,  and  will  only  own,  at  most,  sin- 
cere desires  and  endeavor,  which,  likewise, 
they  that  practise  and  mind  them  least  may 
in  general  profess  :  neither  is  there  any  mor-e 
particular  and  punctual  account  to  he  exjject- 
ted  of  such  things  of  any  man  in  public  :  hut 
the  main  intent  in  these  (as  was  said  before), 
is,  serious  reflection,  and  that  each  of  us  may 
be  stirred  uj)  to  ask  ourselves  over  again 
these  and  more  of  the  like  questions,  in  our 
most  private  trials,  and  our  secret  scruti- 
nies of  our  own  hearts  and  lives,  and  may 
redouble  our  diligence  in  purging  ourselves, 
that  we  may  be  in  the  house  of  God  vessels 
of  honor,  sanctified  and  meet  for  the  Master's 
use,  and  prepared  to  every  good  work.  And, 
for  those  other  things  more  exposed  to  the 
knowledge  of  others,  if  any  brother  hears  of 
the  faultiness  in  any  of  the  number,  he  shall 
not  do  well  to  think  rudely  lo  vent  it  in  the 
meeting,  till  first  he  have  made  all  due  inqui- 
ry after  the  truth  of  it;  yea,  though  he  hath 
it  upon  inquiry  to  be  true,  yet  ought  he  not, 
even  then,  to  make  his  first  essay  of  rectifying 
his  brother,  by  a  declaration  to  the  full  meet- 
ing, without  having  formerly  admonished 
him,  first  alone,  and  then  (according  to  our 
Savior's  rule)  in  the  presence  of  one  or  two 
more  ;  but  having  done  so,  if  neither  of  these 
reclaim  him,  then  follows  of  necessity  to  tell 
the  church  :  but  that  is  likewise  to  be  done 
with  great  singleness  of  heart,  and  charily 
•nd  compassion  ;  and  the  whole  procedure  of 
the  whole  company,  with  the  person  so  dela- 
ted, is  lo  be  managed  with  the  same  temper, 
iccording  lo  the  excellent  advice  of  the  apos- 
tle, "My  brethren,  if  any  man  be  overtaken 
in  a  fault,  ye  which  are  spiritual  restore  such 
a  one  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,  considering 
tbysell,  lest  thou  also  be^empted."  Gal  vi.  2. 


V.  Paper  given  tn  by  the  Bishop  to  the  Sy- 
nod, October  1667,  contatiitnf>  Proposal 
touching  the  following  things  : 

1.  Solemn  reading  of  the  Scriptures. 

2.  Reducing  the  people  to  a  reverend  ges- 
ture in  prayer. 

3.  Plain,  and  practical,  and  catechetical 
preaching. 

4.  A  weekly  day  for  catechising,  and  the 
reading  of  the  Scriptures  joined  with  it. 

5.  A  short  and  plain  form  of  catechism. 

6.  A  more  exact  and  spiritual  way  of  deal- 
ing with  public  penitents. 

7.  As  likewise  of  preparing  people  for  the 
communion  ;  more  frequent  celebration 
whereof  is  so  much  to  be  wished,  but  so  little, 
or  scarce  at  all,  to  be  hoped  in  this  church. 

8.  That,  in  preaching,  the  most  abounding 
and  cryingsins  be  more  sharply  and  frequently 
reproved,  particularly  cursing  and  swearing  , 
and  the worshipof  God  in iamiliesmore urged 

9.  The  due  educating  and  moulding  the 
minds  of  young  students  in  presbyteries. 

10.  More  frequent  and  more  exact  visita- 
tion of  churches:  and  the  visiting  of  families' 
by  each  minister  in  his  own  charge. 

The  words  of  the  paper  were  as  follow  : — 

1.  That  the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scriptures 
in  our  public  meetings,  when  they  are  sol- 
ernnest  and  fullest,  be  constantly  used,  and 
that  we  endeavor  to  bring  our  people  to  a  rev- 
erend and  affectionate  esteem  of  that  ordi- 
nance, and  attention  to  it. 

2.  That  both  by  our  own  example,  and  by 
frequent  instruction  and  exhortation,  we  study 
to  reform  that  extreme  irreverence  and  inde- 
cency th,at  hath  generally  prevailed  in  peo- 
ple's deportment  in  time  of  public  woiship, 
and  particularly  in  prayer:  and  that  ihey  b? 
reduced  to  such  a  gesture,  as  may  signify  that 
we  are  acknowledging  and  adoring  the  great 
Majesty  of  God. 

3.  That  we  endeavor  to  adopt  our  way  ot 
preaching,  with  all  evidence  and  plainness, 
to  the  informing  of  the  ]ieople's  minds,  and 
quickening  their  affections,  and  raising  in  them 
renewed  purposes  of  a  Christian  life  :  and  that 
some  part  of  our  sermons  be  designed  for  the 
])lain  and  practical  explication  of  the  great 
[irinciples  of  religion. 

4.  That  we  fix  some  certain  tiii;er-,  at  least 
one  day  in  the  week,  throughout  the  year, 
for  catechising,  and  thai,  withal,  there  be 
reading  of  the  Scriptures  and  prayer  at  the 
same  time  ;  to  which,  besides  that  part  of  the 
people  that  are  for  each  time  particularly 
warned  to  be  present,  those  others  that  are 
near  the  church  and  at  leisure  may  resort. 
For  the  work  of  the  ministry  is  a  husbandry 
of  more  continual  labor  and  attendance  than 
that  of  our  country  peojile  that  labor  the 
ground,  and  therefore  can  not  well  be  duly 
discharged  if  it  be  wholly  cast  over  upon  the 
Lord's  day,  without  ever  meeting  with  ihem 
or  bringing  any  considerable  part  of  them  to« 
gelher,  all  the  week  long. 


CHARGES  TO 

5.  It  seems  absolutely  necessary,  that  each 
minister  should  resolve  on  some  short  and 
plain  form  of  catechism,  for  the  use  of  his 
people:  for  it  is  not,  I  think,  to  be  imagined, 
that  ever  people  will  have  any  fixed  knowl- 
edge of  the  articles  of  religion,  by  lax  and 
continually  varied  discourses  and  forms,  or 
by  catechisms  too  long  and  too  hard  for  them. 
And  would  some  person  draw  up  several 
short  forms,  they  might  be  revised  at  the 
next  synod,  and  possibly  one  framed  out  of 
them,  which,  by  consent,  might  be  appointed 
for  the  use  of  this  diocese,  for  the  interim, 
till  one  shall  be  published  for  the  whole 
church. 

6.  That  which  hath  been  formerly  propos- 
ed, sjould  be  reminded,  of  a  more  exact  and 
spiritual  way  of  dealing  with  public  offenders, 
that  their  reception  might  be  both  more  apt 
to  recover  the  penitents  themselves,  and  to 
edify  the  church. 

7.  For  more  frequent  communion  (if  it 
could  be  had),  or  however,  for  the  better  im- 
proving it  when  we  have  it,  seldom  as  it  is, 
what  hath  been  formerly  suggested  touching 
the  way  of  examining  and  preparing  people 
to  it,  and  other  particulars  relating  thereto, 
need  not  be  repeated  but  need  very  much  to 
be  really  practised,  if  they  can  be  of  any 
use. 

8.  Likewise,  enough  hath  been  formerly 
said  (it  were  well  if  anything  miiiht  once 
appear  to  be  done),  touching  the  worship  of 
God  in  families,  especially  the  prime  ones 
within  our  bounds:  as  likewise  Kjuching  the 
exercise  of  discipline  for  the  repressing  of 
swearing  and  drunkenness,  and  all  profane- 
ness,  so  much  abounding  everywhere  ;  and 
that  our  doctrine  be  likewise  more  particular- 
ly and  frequently  applied  to  that  purpo.^e.  * 

9.  Something  hath  likewise  been  said  con- 
cerning the  training  up  of  such  young  men 
among  us  as  intend  the  ministry,  not  only  as 
to  their  strain  of  preaching,  but  the  moulding 
of  their  minds  to  more  inward  thoughts,  and 
the  study  of  a  devout  life,  and  more  acquain- 
tance with  the  exercises  of  mortification  and 
purging  of  their  own  hearts  by  those  Divin« 
truths  whii-h  they  are  t<j  preach  to  others  for 
the  same  purpose  :  fjr  how  shall  they  teach 
what  they  iiave  not  learned? 

10.  Thai  churches  be  more  frequently  and 
exactly  visited,  and,  by  each  minister,  the 
families  of  his  congregation. 

This  paper  being  publicly  read,  and  con- 
sented to,  and  approved  by  the  unanimous 
vote  of  the  synod,  conformably  to  it  was 
framed  the  following  act. 

The  bisliop  and  synod  having  seriously 
considered  the  height  of  profaneness  anil 
gross  sins  abounding  amon<r  their  people,  par- 
ticu.arly  drunkenness  and  uncleanness,  and 
most  universally  the  heinous  sin  of  cursin? 
and  swearing,  and  that  which  foments  and 
mcreases  those  and  all  sins,  the  irreat  con- 
tempt of  the  Lord's  holy  day  and  ordinances, 


THE  CLEEGY.  73; 

and  the  gross  and  almost  incredible  igno« 
ranee  of  the  common  sort,  under  so  much  as- 
siduous preaching  and  catechising;  for  th( 
more  effectual  redress  of  all  these  evils,  have 
agreed  and  resolved,  through  the  Lord's  help, 
each  one  within  himself,  to  stir  the  grace  and 
Zeal  of  God  that  is  within  him,  to  renewed 
vigor  and  fervor,  and  more  earnest  endeavorp 
in  the  use  of  all  due  means  for  that  effect  - 
and  particularly, 

1.  The  applying  of  their  sermons  and  doc 
trines  more  expressly  and  frequently  to  tht 
reproof  of  those  wickednesses,  especially  of 
that  horrible  sin  which  almost  all  ranks  of 
men  do  more  easily  and  frequently  commil 
than  they  can  possibly  do  other  gross  sins, 
and  that  with  less  sense  and  remorse — cursing 
and  swearing:  and  that  they  will,  by  God's 
assistance,  not  only  use  short  and  frequent 
reproofs  of  this  and  other  sins,  but  at  some- 
times more  largely  insist  in  representing  the 
exceeding  sinfulness  and  vileness  of  such  a 
particular  sin,  and  the  great  danger  of  the 
Lord's  wrath  and  heaviest  judgments  upon 
those  that  persist  in  it. 

2.  That  with  this  they  will  join  constant 
private  inspection  over  the  lives  of  their  peo- 
ple, and,  by  all  due  means,  particularly  in- 
quire into  them  :  and  when  they  find  any  one 
guilty  of  any  sross  sin,  |)rivalely  to  admon- 
ish him,  meekly  and  afl'eclionately,  but  yet 
with  all  freedom  and  plainness:  and  if  upon 
that  they  mend  not,  to  proceed  in  the  regular 
way  of  discipline  and  censure  within  their 
own  charge  ;  and  if  they  be  not  by  that  re- 
claimed, but  prove  obstinate,  then  to  delate 
them  to  the  highest  judicature,  in  the  usual 
order  of  this  church. 

3.  To  use  more  frequent  catechising,  and 
that  in  so  plain  a  method  and  way  as  may  be 
most  a])!  both  to  inform  the  minds  of  the 
most  ignorant,  and,  through  the  blessing  of 
God,  to  make  more  deep  impression  upon 
their  hearts. 

4.  That,  as  much  as  is  competent  for  min- 
isters, they  will  endeavor  to  procure  the  exe- 
cuting of  those  penal  laws  made  against 
cursing  and  swearing,  and  other  scandalous 
offences,  in  such  a  way  as  may  he  most  con- 
venient and  feasible  in  each  of  their  respec- 
tive parishes. 

5.  That  they  will  endeavor,  both  by  ex- 
hortation, and,  where  need  is,  by  use  of  dis- 
cipline, to  bring  their  people  to  more  careful 
and  constant  attendance  on  all  the  ordinan- 
ces of  God  at  all  limes  of  the  accustomed 
public  meetings,  and  to  a  more  religious  and 
reverend  deportment  in  them  throughout  the 
whole,  but  particularly  in  time  of  [)rayer. 

6.  That  they  be  particularly  careful  to  m 
quire  after  the  daily  performance  of  the  wor- 
ship of  God  in  families,  and,  where  they  find 
it  wanting,  to  enjoin  it,  and  make  inquiry 
again  after  it  ;  and  this  should  be  especially 
provided  for  in  the  choice  and  iimsl  eminent 
families  in  the  several  congregations,  as  ex* 
emplary  to  all  the  rest. 


732 


RULES  AND  INSTRUCT'. ONS  FOR  A  HOLY  LIFE. 


VI.  Concludiitg  Paragraph,  April,  1668. 

The  bishop,  liaving  commended  the  breth- 
ren lor  tlicir  unity,  and  concord,  and  good 
conversation,  exhorted  them  to  continue 
therein,  and  to  be  more  and  more  exemplary 
in  holiness,  and  in  modesty  and  gravity,  even 
in  the  externals  of  their  hair  and  habit,  and 
their  whole  deportment  ;  and  to  the  regula- 
ting of  their  children,  and  their  whole  fami- 
lies, to  be  patterns  of  religion  and  sobriety  to 
all  about  them  ;  and  that  they  themselves  as- 
pire daily  to  greater  abstraction  from  the 
world,  and  contempt  ot' things  below;  giving 
themselves  wholly  to  their  great  work  of 
watching  over  souls,  for  which  they  must 
give  account ;  and  to  reading  and  mt'ditation  ; 
and  to  prayer,  that  draws  continual  fresh 
supplies  from  heaven,  to  enable  them  for  all 
these  duties. 

Vn.  Paragraph  respecting  Baptismal  Vows, 
October,  1668. 

That  which  had  been  sometime  spoke  of 
before,  the  bishop  now  again  recommended 
o  the  brethren,  thai,  at  their  set  times  of  cat- 
echising and  examining  their  people,  they 
would  take  particular  notice  of  young  per- 
sons, toward  their  first  admission  to  the  holy 
communion  ;  and,  having  before  taken  ac- 
count of  their  knowledge  of  the  grounds  of 
religion,  would  then  cause  them,  each  one 
particularly  and  expressly  to  declare  their  be- 
lief of  the  Christian  I'aith,  into  which,  in  their 
infancy,  they  were  baptized  ;  and,  reminding 
them  of  that  their  baptismal  vow,  and  the 
great  engagements  it  lays  upon  them  to  a 


holy  and  Christian  life,  would  require  of 
them  an  explicit  owning  of  that  vow  and  en- 
gagement, and  their  solemn  promise  accord- 
ingly, to  endeavor  the  observing  and  per- 
formance of  it,  in  the  whole  course  of  their 
following  life  :  and  then,  in  their  prayer  with 
which  they  use  to  conclude  those  meetings, 
would  recommend  the  said  young  persons, 
now  thus  engaged,  to  the  effectual  blessing 
of  God,  beseeching  him  to  own  them  for  his, 
and  to  bestow  on  them  the  sanctifying  and 
strengthening  grace  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  as  his 
signature  upon  them,  sealing  them  to  the  day 
of  redemption. 

And  this  practice,  as  it  hath  nothing  in  it 
that  can  off'end  any,  even  the  most  scrupu- 
lous minds,  so  it  may  be  a  very  fit  suppletory 
of  that  defect  in  infant  baptism,  which  the 
enemies  of  it  do  mainly  object  atrainst  it,  and 
may,  through  the  blessing  of  God,  make  a 
lasting  impression  of  religion  upon  the  hearts 
of  those  young  persons  toward  whom  it  is  used, 
and  eff'ectually  engage  them  to  a  Christian 
life;  and, if  they  swervefromit, make  them  the 
more  inexcusable  and  clearly  convincible  of 
their  unfaithfulness  and  breach  ''^  that  great 
promise  and  sacred  vow,  they  nave  so  re- 
newed to  God  before  his  people.  And  for 
authority  of  divines,  if  we  regard  it,  it  hath 
the  general  approbation  of  the  most  famous 
reformers,  and  of  the  most  pious  and  learned 
that  have  followed  them  since  their  time  ; 
and,  being  performed  in  that  evangelical  sim- 
plicity as  it  is  here  propounded,  they  do  not 
only  allow  it  as  lawful,  but  desire  it,  and  ad- 
vise is  as  laudable  and  profitable,  and  of  very 
good  use,  in  all  Christian  churches. 


RULES  AND  INSTRUCTIONS  FOR  A  HOLY  LIFE 


FoK  disposing  you  the  better  to  observe 
these  rules,  and  profit  by  them,  be  pleased  to 
take  the  following  advices  : — 

1.  Put  all  your  trust  in  the  special  and  sin- 
gular mercy  of  God,  that  he  for  his  mercy's 
sake,  and  of  his  only  goodness,  will  help  and 
bring  you  to  perfection.  Not  that  absolute 
perfection  is  attainable  here,  but  the  meaning 
is,  to  high  degrees  of  that  spiritual  and  divine 
life,  which  is  always  growing  and  tending 
toward  the  absolute  perfection  above  ;  but  in 
some  persons  comes  nearer  to  that  and  riseth 
higher,  even  here,  than  in  the  most.  If  you 
with  hearty  and  fervent  desires  do  continually 
wish  and  long  for  it,  and  with  most  humble  de- 
votion daily  pray  unto  God  and  call  for  it,  and 
wiih  all  diligence  do  busily  labor  and  travail  to 
come  to  it,  undoubtedly  it  shall  be  given  you. 
For  you  must  not  think  it  sufficient  to  use  exer- 
cises, as  though  they  had  such  virtues  in  them. 


that  of  themselves  alone,  they  could  make  such 
as  do  use  them  perfect ;  for  neither  those  nor 
any  other,  whatever  they  be,  can  of  them- 
selves (by  their  use  only)  bring  unto  perfec- 
tion. But  our  merciful  Lord  God,  of  his  own 
goodness,  when  you  seek  with  hearty  desires 
and  fervent  sighings,  maketn  you  to  find  it. 
When  you  ask  daily  with  devout  prayer, 
then  he  giveth  it  to  you  ;  and  when  you  con- 
tinually, with  unwearied  labor  and  travail, 
knock  perseveringly,  then  he  doth  mercifully 
open  unto  you.  And  because  those  exercises 
do  teach  you  to  seek,  ask,  and  knock,  yea, 
they  are  none  other  than  very  devout  peti- 
tions, seekings,  and  spiritual  pulsations  for 
the  merciful  help  of  God  ;  therefore  they  are 
very  profitable  means  to  come  to  perfection 
by  God's  grace. 

2.  Let  no  particu  ar  exercise  hinder  your 
public  and  standing  dutier  *o  God  and  your 


RULES  AND  INSTRUCTIONS  FOR  A.  HOLY  LIFE. 


733 


neighbors  :  but  for  these,  rather  intermit  the 
other  for  a  timt,and  then  return  to  it  as  soon 
as  you  can. 

3.  If,  in  time  of  your  spiritual  exercise, 
you  find  yourself  drawn  to  any  better,  or  to 
as  good  a  contemplation  as  that  is,  follow  the 
traeii  of  that  good  motion  so  long  as  it  shall  last. 

4.  Always  take  care  to  follow  such  exerci- 
ses of  devout  thoughts,  withal  putting  in 
practice  such  lessons  as  they  contain  and  ex- 
cite to. 

5.  Though  at  first  ye  feel  no  sweetness  in 
such  exercises,  yet  be  not  discouraged,  nor 
induced  to  leave  them,  but  continue  in  them 
faitlifujjy,  whatsoever  pain  or  spiritual  trou- 
ble ye  feel  ;  for,  doing  them  for  God  and  his 
honor,  and  finding  none  other  present  fruit, 
yet  you  shall  have  an  excellent  reward  for 
your  diligent  labor  and  your  pure  intentions. 
And  let  not  your  falling  short  of  these  mod- 
els and  rules,  nor  your  daily  manifold  imper- 
fections and  faults,  dishearten  you;  but  con- 
tinue steadfast  in  your  desires,  purposes,  and 
endeavors  ;  and  ever  ask  the  best,  aim  at  the 
best,  and  hope  the  best,  being  sorry  that  you 
can  do  no  belter ;  and  they  shall  be  a  most 
acceptable  sacrifice  in  the  sight  of  God,  and 
in  due  time  you  shall  reap  if  you  faint  not. 
And  of  all  such  instructions  let  your  rule  be, 
to  follow  them  as  much  as  you  can  ;  but  not 
too  scrupulously  thinking  your  labor  lost  if 
you  do  not  exactly  and  strictly  answer  them 
in  everything.  Purpose  still  better,  and  by 
God's  grace  all  shall  be  well. 

SECTION  L 

Bule  1.  Exercise  thyself  in  the  knowledge 
and  deep  consideration  of  our  Lord  God,  call- 
ing humbly  to  mind  how  excellent  and  in- 
comprehensible he  is  ;  and  this  knowledge 
shall  thou  rather  endeavor  to  obtain  by  fer- 
vent desire  and  devout  prayer,  than  by  high 
study  and  outward  labor.  It  is  the  singular 
gift  of  God,  and  certainly  very  precarious. 

2.  Pray,  then,  "  Most  gracious  Lord,  whom 
to  know  is  the  very  bliss  and  felicity  of  man's 
soul,  and  yet  none  can  know  thee,  unless 
thou  wilt  open  and  show  thyself  unto  him  ; 
vouchsafe,  of  thy  infinite  mercy,  now  and 
ever,  to  enlighten  my  heart  and  mind  to 
know  thee,  and  thy  most  holy  and  perfect 
will,  to  the  honor  and  glory  of  thy  name. 
Amen." 

3.  Then  lift  up  thy  heart  to  consider  (not 
with  loo  great  violence,  but  soberly)  the  eter- 
nal and  infinite  power  of  God,  who  has  crea- 
ted all  things  by  his  excellent  wisdom  ;  his 
unmeasurable  goodness,  and  incornprehensi- 
He  love  ;  for  he  is  very  and  only  God,  most 
excellent,  most  high,  most  glorious,  the  ever- 
lasting and  unchangeable  goodness,  an  eter- 
nal substance,  a  charity  infinite,  so  excellent 
and  inelTable  in  himself,  that  all  dignity,  per- 
fection, and  goodness,  that  is  possible  to  be 
spoken  or  thought  of,  can  not  sufliciently  ex- 
press the  smallest  part  thereof. 


4.  Consider  that  he  is  the  natural  place, 
the  centre  and  rest  of  thy  soul.  If  ihou  then 
think  of  the  most  blessed  Trinity,  muse  not 
too  much  thereon,  but  with  devout  and  obe- 
dient faith,  meekly  and  lowly  adore  and  wor- 
ship. 

•5.  Consider  Jesus  the  Redeemer  and  Hus- 
band of  thy  soul,  and  walk  with  him  as  be- 
comes a  chaste  spouse,  with  reverence  and 
iowly  shamefulness,  obedience  and  submission. 

6.  Then  turn  to  the  deep,  profound  con- 
sideration of  thyself,  thine  own  nothingness, 
and  thy  extreme  defilement  and  pollution, 
thy  natural  aversion  from  God,  and  that  thou 
must,  by  conversion  to  him  again,  and  union 
with  him,  be  made  happy. 

7.  Consider  thyself  and  all  creatures  as 
nothing,  in  comparison  of  thy  Lord  ;  that  so 
thou  mayest  not  only  be  content,  but  desirous 
to  be  unknown,  or  being  known,  to  be  con- 
temned and  despised  of  all  men,  yet  without 
thy  faults  or  deservings,  as  much  as  thou 
canst. 

8.  Pray:  "0  God,  infuse  into  my  heart 
thy  heavenly  light  and  blessed  charity,  that 
I  may  know  and  love  thee  above  all  things  ; 
and  above  all  things  loath  and  abhor  myself. 
Grant  that  I  may  be  so  ravished  in  the  won- 
djer  ar.:l  love  of  thee,  that  I  may  forget  my- 
self and  all  things  ;  feel  neither  prosperity 
nor  adversity  ;  may  not  fear  to  suflfer  all 
the  pains  of  this  world,  rather  than  to  be 
parted  and  pulled  away  from  thee,  whose 
perfections  infinitely  exceed  all  thought  and 
understanding.  0  I  let  me  find  thee  more  in- 
wardly and  verily  present  with  me,  than  I  am 
with  myself:  and  make  me  most  circumspect 
how  I  do  use  myself  in  the  presence  of  thee, 
my  holy  Lord. 

"  Cause  me  always  to  remember  how  ever- 
lasting and  constant  is  the  love  thou  bearest 
toward  me,  and  such  a  charity  and  continual 
care,  as  though  thou  hadst  no  more  creatures 
in  heaven  or  earth  besides  me.  What  am  I? 
A  vile  worm  and  filth." 

9.  Then  aspire  to  a  great  contrition  for  thy 
sins,  and  hatred  of  them,  an  abhorring  of  thy- 
self for  them  :  then  crave  pardon  in  the  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ  ;  and  then  offer  up  thyself, 
soul  and  body,  an  oblation  or  sacrifice,  in  and 
through  him  :  as  they  did  of  old,  laying  wood 
on  the  altar,  and  then  borning  up  all :  so  this 
shall  be  a  sacrifice  of  sweet  savor,  and  very 
acceptable  lo  God. 

10.  Offer  all  that  thou  hast,  to  be  nothing, 
to  use  nothing  of  all  that  thou  hast  about  thee 
and  is  called  thine,  but  to  his  honor  and  glory  ; 
and  resolve  through  his  grace  to  use  all  the 
powers  of  thy  soul,  and  every  meml)er  of  thy 
body,  to  his  service,  as  formerly  thou  hast 
done  to  sin. 

11.  Consider  the  passion  of  thy  Lord,  how 
he  was  bulTeted,  scourged,  reviled,  stretched 
with  nails  on  the  cross,  and  hung  on  it  three 
long  hours  ;  suffered  all  the  contempt  and 
shame,  and  all  the  inconceivable  pain  of  it, 
for  thy  sake. 


RULES  AND  INSTRUCTIONS  FOR  A  HOLY  LIFE. 


12.  Then  turn  thy  lioan  to  him,  humbly 
saying,  "  Lord  Jesus,  whereas  I  daily  fall, 
and  am  ready  to  sin,  vouchsafe  me  srace  as 
oft  as  I  shall,  to  rise  asfain  :  lei  me  never  pre- 
sume, 1)U'  always  most  meekly  and  humbly 
ackuowledice  my  wretchedness  and  frailty, 
and  re[H'nt,  with  a  firm  jmrpose  to  amentj  ; 
and  let  me  not  despair  because  of  my  jjreat 
frailty,  but  ever  trust  in  thy  most  loving  mer- 
cv  and  readiness  to  forgive." 

SECTION  IL 

1.  Thou  slialt  have  much  to  do  in  mortify- 
ing of  thy  live  senses,  which  must  be  all  shut 
up  in  the  crucified  humility  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  be  as  they  were  plainly  dead. 

2.  Thou  must  now  learn  lo  have  a-contin- 
ued  eye  inwardly  to  thy  soul  and  spiritual 
life,  as  iluiu  hast  used  heretofore  to  have  all 
thy  mind  and  regard  lo  outward  pleasure  and 
worldlv  things. 

3.  Thou  luust  submit  and  give  thyself  up 
unto  the  discipline  of  Jesus,  and  become  hi^ 
scholar,  resigning  and  compelling  thyself  al- 
together to  obey  him  in  all  things  ;  so  that 
thy  willing  and  nilling  thou  utterly  and  per- 
fectly  do  cast  away  I'rom  thee,  and  do  noth- 
ing without  his  license:  at  every  word  thou 
wilt  speak,  at  every  morsel  thou  will  eat,  at 
every  stirring  or  moving  of  every  article  or 
member  of  thy  body,  thou  must  ask  leave  of 
him  in  thy  heart,  and  ask  thyself  whether, 
having  so  done,  that  be  according  to  his  will 
and  holy  example,  and  with  sincere  intention 
of  his  glory.  Hence, 

4.  Even  the  most  necessary  actions  of  thy 
life,  though  lawful,  yet  must  thus  be  offered 
up  with  a  true  intention  unto  God,  in  the 
union  of  the  most  lioly  works;  and  blessed 
merits  of  Christ;  saying,  "Lord  Jesus,  bind 
up  in  the  merits  of  thy  blessed  senses,  all  my 
feeling  and  sensation,  and  all  my  wits  and 
senses,  that  I  never  hereafter  use  them  to 
any  sensuality." 

5.  Thus  labor  lo  come  lo  this  union  and 
knitting  up  of  thy  senses,  in  God  and  thy 
Lord  Jesus,  and  remain  so  fast  to  the  cross, 
that  thou  never  ])ari  from  it,  and  still  behave 
thy  bcjdy  and  all  ihy  senses  as  in  the  pres- 
ence of  thy  Lord  God,  and.  commit  all  things 
to  the  most  trusty  providence  of  thy  loving 
Lord,  who  will  then  order  all  things  delecta- 
bly  and  sweetly  for  thee.  Reckon  all  things 
besides  for  right  naught ;  and  thus  maycst 
thou  come  unto  wonderful  illuminations  and 
spiritual  influence  from  the  Lord  thy  God. 

G.  If,  for  his  love,  thou  canst  crucify,  re- 
nounce, and  forsake  perfectly  thyself  and  all 
things,  thou  nmst  so  crucify  thyself  to  all 
things,  and  love  and  desire  God  only,  with 
thy  care  and  whole  heart,  that  in  this  most 
steadfast  and  strung  knot  and  union  unto  the 
will  of  God,  if  lie  would  create  hell  in  thee 
here,  thou  mighist  be  ready  to  offer  thyself, 
by  his  grace,  for  his  eternal  honor  and  glory, 


to  suffer  it,  and  thai  purely  for  his  will  nnd 
[ileasure. 

7.  Thou  must  keep  thy  memory  clean  and 
pure,  as  it  were  a  wedlock-chamber,  from  all 
strange  thoughts,  fancies,  and  imaginations; 
and  it  must  be  trimmed  and  atbirned  wiih 
holy  meditations  and  virtues  of  Christ's  life 
and  passion,  thai  God  miy  continually  and 
ever  rest  therein. 

A  PRAYER. 

8.  "  Lord,  instead  of  knowing  thee,  I  have 
sought  lo  know  wickedness  and  sin  ;  and 
whereas  my  will  and  desire  were  created  to 
love  thee,  I  have  lost  that  love,  and  declined 
to  the  creatures.  While  my  memory  ought 
to  be  filled  with  thee,  I  have  painted  it  with 
the  imagery  of  innumerable  fancies,  not  only 
of  all  creatures,  but  of  all  sinful  wickedness. 
Oh  !  blol  out  these  by  thy  blood,  and  imprint 
Ij  own  blessed  image  in  my  soul,  blessed 
Jesjs,  by  that  blood  that  issued  out  from  thy 
most  loving  heart,  when  thou  hangcdst  on  the 
cross.  So  knit  my  will  to  thy  most  holy  will, 
that  I  may  have  no  other  will  but  thine,  and 
may  be  most  heartily  and  fully  content  with 
whatsoever  thou  wouldst  do  to  me  in  this 
world  ;  yea,  if  thou  wilt,  so  that  I  hate  thee 
not,  nor  sin  against  thee,  but  retain  thy  love, 
make  me  suffer  the  greatest  pains." 

SECTION  HI. 

Rule  1.  Exercise  thyself  to  the  perfect  ab- 
negation of  all  things  which  may  let  or  im- 
pede this  union.  Mortify  in  thee  everything 
that  is  not  of  God,  nor  for  God,  or  which  he 
willeth  and  loveth  not.  Resigning  and  yield- 
ing up  to  the  high  pleasure  of  God  all  love 
and  affection  for  transitory  things,  desire  nei- 
ther lo  have  nor  hold  them,  nor  bestow  nor 
give  them,  but  only  for  the  pure  love  and 
honor  of  God.  Put  away  superfluous  and  un- 
necessary things,  and  affect  not  even  things 
necessary. 

2.  Mortify  all  affection  to  and  seeking  of 
thyself,  which  is  so  natural  to  men  in  all  the 
good  they  desire,  and  in  all  the  good  they  do, 
and  in  all  the  evil  they  suffer  :  yea,  by  the 
inordinate  love  of  the  gifts  and  graces  of  God, 
instead  of  himself,  they  fall  into  spiritual 
pride,  gluttony,  and  greediness. 

3.  Mortify  all  affection  to,  and  delectation 
in,  meat  and  drink,  and  vain  thoughts  and 
fancies,  which,  though  they  proceed  not  lo 
consent,  yet  defile  the  soul,  and  grieve  tne 
Holy  Ghost,  and  do  great  damage  to  the  spir- 
itual life. 

4.  Imprint  on  thy  heart  the  image  of  Jesus 
crucified,  the  impressions  of  his  humility, 
poverty,  mildness,  and  all  his  holv  virtues: 
let  thy  thoughts  of  him  turn  intc  affection, 
and  thy  knowledge  into  love.  For  the  love 
of  God  doth  most  purely  work  in  the  mortift- 
cation  of  nature:  the  life  of  the  spirit,  pu- 
rifying the  higher  powers  of  the  soul,  begets 


KULES  AND  INSTRUCTIONS  FOR  A  HOLY  LIFE. 


735 


the  solitariness  and  departure  from  all  crea- 
tures, and  ihe  influence  and  flowing  into  God. 

5.  Solitude,  silence,  and  tiie  strici  keeping 
of  the  heart,  are  the  foundations  and  grounds 
of  a  spiritual  life. 

6.  Do  all  thy  necessary  and  outward  works 
without  any  trouble  or  carefulness  of  mind, 
and  bear  thy  mind  amid  all  always  inwardly 
lifted  up  and  elevated  to  God,  following  al- 
ways more  the  inward  exercise  of  love,  than 
the  outward  acts  of  virtue. 

7.  To  this  can  no  man  come,  unless  he  be 
rid  and  delivered  from  all  things  under  God, 
and  be  so  swallowed  up  under  God,  that  he 
can  contemn  and  despise  himself  and  all 
things  ;  for  the  pure  love  of  God  maketh  the 
spirit  pure  and  simple,  and  so  free,  that,  with- 
out any  pain  and  labor,  it  can  at  all  times 
tu'n  and  recollect  itself  in  God. 

8.  Mortify  all  biiterness  of  heart  toward 
thy  neighbors,  and  all  vain  complacency  in 
thyself,  all  vain  glory  and  desire  of  esteem,  in 
words  and  deeds,  in  gifts  and  graces.  To  this 
thou  shdlt  come  by  a  more  clear  and  perfect 
knowledge  and  consideration  of  tliy  own  vile- 
ness,  and  by  knowing  God  to  be  the  fountain 
of  all  grace  and  goodness. 

9.  Mortify  all  affection  toward  inward, 
sensible,  si)iritual  delight  in  grace,  and  the 
following  devotion  with  sensible  sweetness  in 
the  lower  faculties  or  powers  of  the  soul, 
which  are  nowise  real  sanctity  and  holiness 
in  themselves,  but  certain  gifts  of  God  to  lielj) 
our  infirmity. 

10.  Mortify  all  curious  investigation  or 
search,  all  s])eculation  and  knowledge  of  un- 
necessary tilings,  human  or  Divine  ;  for  the 
perfect  life  of  a  Christian  consislelh  not  in  a 
high  knowledge,  but  profound  meekness,  in 
holy  simplicity,  and  in  the  ardent  love  of  God  ; 
wherein  we  ought  to  desire  to  die  to  all  aflec- 
tioii  10  ourselves  and  all  things  below  God  : 
yea,  to  sustain  pain  and  dereliction,  that  we 
may  be  perfectly  knit  aud  united  to  God,  and 
be  perfectly  swallowed  up  in  him. 

11.  Mortify  all  undue  scrupulousness  of 
conscience,  and  trust  in  the  goodness  of  God  : 
for  our  dnubting  and  scruples  oftiimes  arise 
from  inordinate  self-love,  and  therefore  vex 
us  ;  they  do  no  good,  neither  work  any  real 
amendment  in  us  ;  they  cloud  the  soul,  and 
darken  faith,  and  cool  love  ;  and  it  is  only  the 
stronger  beams  of  these  that  can  dispel  them. 
And  the  stronger  that  faith  and  Divine  confi- 
dence is  in  us,  and  the  hotter  Divine  love  is, 
the  soul  is  so  much  the  more  excited  and  ena- 
bled to  all  the  parts  of  holiness,  to  mortifica- 
tions of  passions  and  lusts,  to  more  patience 
in  adversity,  and  to  more  thankfulness  in  all 
estates. 

12.  Mortify  all  impatience  in  all  pains  and 
tioublcs,  whetlicr  from  the  hands  of  God  or 
men,  all  desire  of  revenge,  all  resentment  of 
injuries  ;  and  by  the  pure  love  of  God,  love 
thy  very  i)ersecuiors  as  if  they  Were  thy  dear- 
est friends. 

13.  Finally,  mortify  thy  own  will  in  all 


I  things,  with  full  resignation  of  thystif  to  suf- 
fe!  all  dereliction,  outward  and  inward,  all 
pain,  and  pressures,  and  desolations,  and  that 
fur  the  pure  love  of  God  :  for  from  sell^-love 
and  self-will  spring  all  sin  and  all  pam. 

A  PRAYER. 

14.  "  0  Jesus,  my  Savior  !  thy  blessed  hu- 
mility, impress  it  on  my  heart.  Make  me 
most  sensible  of  thy  infinite  dignity,  and  of 
my  own  vileness,  that  I  may  hate  myself  as  a 
thing  of  naught,  and  be  willing  to  be  despised 
and  trodden  upon  by  all  as  the  vilest  mire 
of  the  streets  ;  that  I  may  still  retain  these 

words — I  AM  NOTHING,  I  HAVE  NOTHING,  I  CAN 
DO  NOTHING,  AND  I  DESIRE  NOTHING  BUT  OnF  " 

SECTION  IV. 

1.  Never  do  anything  with  propriety  and 
singular  affection,  being  too  earnest,  or  too 
much  given  to  it ;  but  with  continual  meek- 
ness of  heart  and  mind,  lie  at  the  foot  of  God, 
and  say,  "  Lord,  1  desire  nothing,  neither  in 
myself,  nor  in  any  creature,  save  only  to  know 
and  execute  thy  blessed  will."  Saying  alway 
in  thy  heart,  "  Lord,  what  wouldst  thou  have 
me  to  do?  Transform  my  will  into  thine: 
fill  full,  and  swallow  up,  as  it  were,  my  af- 
fections with  thy  love,  and  with  an  insatiable 
desire  to  honor  thee,  and  despise  myself" 

2.  If  thou  aspire  to  attain  to  the  perfect 
knitting  and  union  with  God,  know  that  it  re- 
quireih  a  (lerfect  exspoliation,  and  denuda- 
tion, or  bare  nakedness,  and  utter  forsaking 
of  all  sin,  yea,  of  all  creatures,  and  of  thyself 
particularly  :  even  ihat  thy  mind  and  uiider- 
sianding,  thy  affections  and  desires,  thy  mem- 
ory and  fancy,  be  made  bare  of  all  things  in 
the  world,  and  all  sensual  pleasures  in  them, 
so  as  thou  wouldst  be  content  that  tlie  bread 
which  thou  eatest  had  no  more  savor  than- a 
stone,  and  yet,  for  his  honor  and  glory  that 
created  bread,  thou  art  pleased  thai  it  savor- 
eth  well:  but  yet,  from  the  delectation  thou 
feelest  in  it,  turn  thy  heart  to  his  praises  and 
love  that  made  it. 

.3.  The  more  perfectly  thou  livest  in  the  ab- 
straction, and  departure,  and  bare  nakedness 
of  thy  mind  from  all  creatures,  the  more  na- 
kedly and  purely  shall  thou  have  the  fruition 
of  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  shall  live  the  more 
heavenly  and  angelical  life.  Therefore, 

4.  Labor  above  all  tilings  most  exactly  to 
forsake  all  tor  him  ;  and  chiefly  to  forsake 
and  contemn  thyself;  purely  loving  him,  and 
in  a  manner  forgetting  thyself  and  all  things, 
for  the  vehement  burning  love  of  him  ;  thus 
thy  mind  will  run  so  much  upon  him,  that 
tiiou  wilt  take  no  heed  what  is  s^vcet  or  bit- 
ter,  neither  wilt  thou  consider  time  or  place, 
nor  mark  one  person  from  another,  for  the 
wonder  and  love  of  thy  Lord  God,  and  the 
desire  of  his  blessed  will,  pleasure,  and  hon- 
or, in  all  things.  And  whatsoever  good  tliosi 
dost,  know  and  think  that  God  doth  it,  and 
not  thou. 


736 


RULES  AND  INSTRUCTIONS  FOR  A  HOLY  LIFE. 


5.  Choose  always  (to  the  best  of  thy  skill) 
what  is  most  to  (iod's  honor,  and  most  like 
unto  Christ  and  his  example,  and  most  prufit- 
able  to  thy  neiijhhor,  and  most  against  liiy 
own  proi)er  will,  and  least  serviceable  to  thy 
own  praise  and  exaltation. 

6.  ir  ihou  continue  faithful  in  this  spiritual 
work  and  travail,  God  at  length,  without 
doubt,  will  hear  thy  knocking,  and  will  deliv- 
er thee  from  all  thy  spiritual  trouble,  from  all 
the  tumults,  noise,  and  incumbrance  of  cogi- 
tations and  fancies,  and  from  all  earthly  af- 
fections, which  thou  canst  by  no  better  means 
put  away,  than  by  continual  and  fervent  de- 
sire of  the  love  of  God. 

7.  Do  not  at  any  time  let  or  hinder  his 
working,  by  following  thine  own  will ;  for 
behold  how  much  thou  dost  the  more  perfect- 
ly forsake  thine  own  will,  and  the  love  of  thy- 
self, and  of  all  worldly  things,  so  mucli  the 
more  dee[)ly  and  safely  shah  thou  be  knit 
unto  God,  and  increase  in  liis  true  and  pure 
love. 

SECTION  V. 

1.  If  thou  still  above  all  things  seek  that 
union,  thou  must  transl'und  and  pour  thy 
whole  will  into  the  high  pleasure  of  God  ; 
and  whatsoever  befalls  thee,  thou  must  be 
without  murmuring  and  retraction  of  heart, 
accepting  it  most  joyfully  for  his  love  whose 
will  and  vvork  it  is. 

2.  Let  thy  great  joy  and  comfort  evermore 
be,  to  have  his  pleasure  done  in  thee,  though 
in  pains,  sickness,  persecutions,  oppressions, 
or  inward  griefs  and  pressures  of  heart,  cold- 
ness or  barrenness  of  mind,  darkening  of  ihy 
will  and  senses,  or  any  temptations,  spiritual 
or  bodily.  And, 

3.  Under  any  of  these,  be  always  wary  thou 
turn  not  to  sinful  delights,  nor  to  sensual  and 
carnal  pleasures,  nor  set  thy  heart  on  vain 
things,  seeking  comfort  thereby,  nor  in  any 
wise  be  idle,  but,  always  as  thou  canst,  com- 
pel and  force  thyself  to  some  good  spiritual 
exercise  or  bodily  work  ;  and  though  they  be 
then  unsavory  to  thee,  yet  are  they  not  the 
less,  but  the  more  acceptable  to  God. 

4.  Take  all  afflictions  as  tokens  of  God's 
love  to  thee,  and  trials  of  thy  love  to  him, 
and  purposes  of  kindness  to  enrich  thee,  and 
increase  more  plenlifully  in  thee  his  blessed 
gifts  and  spiritual  graces,  if  thou  persevere 
faithfully  unto  the  end  ;  not  leaving  off  the 
vehement  desire  of  his  love  and  thy  own  per- 
fection. 

5.  Offer  up  thyself  wholly  to  him,  and  fix 
the  point  of  thy  love  upon  his  most  blessed 
increated  love  ;  and  there  let  thy  soul  and 
heart  rest  and  delight,  and  be  as  it  were  re- 
solved and  melted  most  happily  into  the 
blessed  Godhead  ;  and  then  take  that  as  a 
token,  and  be  assured  by  it,  that  God  will 
grant  thy  lovely  and  holy  desire.  Then  shalt 
tiiou  feel  in  a  manner  no  difference  between 
honor  and  shame,  joy  and  sorrow  ;  but  what- 


soever thou  perceivest  to  appertain  to  the 
honor  of  thy  Lord,  be  it  ever  so  hard  and  un 
pleasant  to  thyself,  thou  wilt  heartily  em- 
brace it,  yea,  with  all  thy  might  follow  and 
desire  it :  yet,  when  thou  will  ihink  ihcju  hast 
done  what  is  possible  for  thee,  iliou  wilt 
think  thou  hast  done  nothing  ai  all,  yea,  thou 
shalt  be  ashamed,  and  detest  thyself,  that 
thou  hast  so  wretchedly  and  imjierfectly 
served  so  noble  and  worthy  a  Lord  ;  and 
therefore,  thou  wilt  desire  and  endeavor  ev- 
ery hour  to  do  and  suffer  greater  and  more 
perfect  things  than  hitherto  thou  hast  done, 
forgellinfr  the  things  that  are  behind,  and 
pressing  forward  to  those  that  are  before. 

6.  If  thou  hast  in  any  measure  attained  to 
love  and  abide  in  God,  then  mayest  thou 
keep  the  power  of  thy  soul  and  thy  senses, 
as  it  were,  shut  up  in  God,  from  gadding  out 
to  any  worldly  thing  or  vanity,  as  much  as 
possible,  where  they  have  so  joyfully  a  secu- 
rity and  safeness.  Satiate  thy  soul  in  him, 
and  in  all  other  things  still  see  his  blessed 
presence. 

7.  Whatsoever  befalleih  thee,  receive  it 
not  from  the  hand  of  any  creature,  but  from 
him  alone,  and  render  back  all  to  him,  seek- 
ing in  all  things  his  pleasure  and  honor,  the 
purifying  and  subduing  of  thyself.  What  can 
harm  thee,  when  all  must  first  touch  God, 
within  whom  thou  hast  enclosed  thyself? 

8.  When  thou  perceivest  thyself  thus  knit 
to  God,  and  thy  soul  more  fiist  and  joined 
nearer  to  him  than  to  thine  own  body,  then 
shalt  thou  know  his  everlasting,  and  incom- 
prehensible, and  ineffable  goodness,  and  the 
true  nobleness  of  thy  soul,  that  -lame  front 
him,  and  was  made  to  be  reunited  to  him. 

9.  If  thou  wouldst  ascend  and  come  up  to 
thy  Lord  God,  thou  must  climb  up  by  the 
wounds  of  his  blessed  humanity,  that  remain 
as  it  were,  for  that  use  ;  and  when  thou  art 
got  up  there,  thou  wouldst  rather  suffer  death 
than  willingly  commit  any  sin. 

10.  Entering  into  Jesus,  thou  easiest  thyselt 
into  an  infinite  sea  of  Goodness,  that  more 
easily  drowns  and  happily  swallows  thee  up, 
than  the  ocean  does  a  droj)  of  water.  Then 
shalt  thou  be  hid  and  transformed  in  hirn, 
and  shalt  often  be  as  thinking  witn  out  thought, 
and  knowing  without  knowledge,  and  loving 
without  love,  comprehended  of  him  whom 
thou  canst  not  comprehend. 

SECTION  VI. 

\.  Too  much  desire  to  please  men,  mighti- 
ly prejudiceth  the  pleasing  of  God. 

2.  Too  great  earnestness  and  vehemency, 
and  too  greedy  delight  in  bodily  work  and 
external  doings  scatteretli  and  loseth  4he 
tranquillity  and  calmness  of  the  mind. 

3.  Cast  all  thy  care  on  God,  and  commit 
all  to  his  good  pleasure:  laud,  and  praise, 
and  applaud  him  in  all  things,  small  and 
great.  Forsake  thy  own  will,  and  deliver  up 
thyself  freely  and  cheerfully  to  the  will  of' 


t 


RULES  AND  INSTRUCTIONS  FOR  A  HOLY  LIFE.  73" 


Gcd,  without  reserve  or  exception,  in  pros- 
perity and  adversity,  sweet  or  sour,  to  have 
or  to  want,  to  live  or  to  die. 

4.  Disunite  thy  heart  from  all  things,  and 
unite  it  only  tc  God. 

5.  Remember  often,  and  devoutly,  the  life 
and  passion,  the  death  and  resurrection,  of 
our  Savior  Jesus. 

6.  Descant  not  on  other  men's  deeds,  but 
consider  thine  own  :  forget  other  men's  faults, 
and  remember  thine  own. 

7.  Never  think  highly  of  thyself,  nor  de- 
spise any  other  man. 

8.  Keep  silence  and  retirement  as  much  as 
thou  canst,  and  through  God's  grace,  they 
will  keep  thee  from  snares  and  offences. 

9.  Lift  up  thy  heart  often  to  God,  and  de- 
sire in  all  things  his  assistance. 

10.  Let  thy  heart  be  filled  and  wholly  ta- 
ken up  with  the  love  of  God,  and  of  thy 
neighbor  ;  and  do  all  that  thou  dost,  in  that 
sincere  charity  and  love. 

The  sum  is  : 

1.  Remember  always  the  presence  of  God. 

2.  Rejoice  always  in  the  will  of  God.  And, 

3.  Direct  all  to  the  glory  of  God. 

SECTION  VII. 

1.  Little  love,  little  trust ;  but  a  great  love 
brings  a  great  confidence. 

2.  That  is  a  blessed  hope  that  doth  not 
slacken  us  in  our  duty,  nor  maketh  us  se- 
cure, but  increaseth  both  a  cheerful  will,  and 
gives  greater  strength  to  mortification  and 
all  obedience. 

3.  What  needest  thou,  or  why  travailest 
thou  about  so  many  things  ?  Think  upon 
one,  desire  and  love  one,  and  thou  shalt  find 
great  rest.  Therefore, 

4.  Wherever  thou  be,  let  this  voice  of  God 
be  still  in  thine  ear  :  My  son,  return  inwardly 
to  thy  heart,  abstract  tiiyself  from  all  things, 
and  mind  me  only.  Thus, 

5.  With  a  pure  mind  in  God,  clean  and 
bare  from  the  memory  of  ail  things,  remain- 
ing urmoveabiy  in  him,  thou  shalt  think  and 
dosirc  nothing  but  him  alone  ;  as  though 
there  were  nothing  else  in  the  world  but  he 


land  thou  only  together ;  that  all  thy  facul- 
I  ties  and  powers  being  thus  re-collected  into 

God,  thou  mayest  become  one  spirit  with 

him. 

6.  Fix  thy  mind  on  thy  crucified  Savior, 
and  remember  continually  his  great  meek- 
ness, love,  and  obedience,  his  pure  chastity, 
his  unspeakable  patience,  and  all  the  holy 
virtues  of  his  humanity. 

7.  Think  on  his  mighty  power  and  infinite 
goodness ;  how  he  created  and  redeemed 
thee  ;  how  he  justifieih  thee,  and  worketh  in 
thee  all  virtues,  graces,  and  goodness:  and 
thus  remember  him,  until  thy  memory  turn 
into  love  and  affection.  Therefore, 

8.  Draw  thy  mind  thus  from  all  creatures, 
unto  a  certain  silence  and  rest  from  the  jang- 
ling and  company  of  all  things  below  God  ; 
and  when  thou  canst  come  to  this,  then  is  thy 
heart  a  place  meet  and  ready  for  thy  Lord 
God  to  abide  in,  there  to  talk  with  thy  soul. 

9.  True  humility  gaineth  and  overcometh 
God  Almighty,  and  maketh  thee  also  apt  and 
meet  to  receive  all  graces  and  gifts.  But 
alas!  who  can  say  that  he  hath  this  blessed 
meekness,  it  being  so  hard,  so  uncertain,  so 
secret  and  unknown  a  thing,  to  forsake  and 
mortify  perfectly  and  exactly  thyself,  and  that 
most  venomous  worm  of  all  goodness,  vain- 
glory ? 

10.  Commit  all  to  the  high  providence  of 
God,  and  suffer  nothing  to  restor  enter  into  ttiy 
heart  save  only  God.  All  things  in  the  earth 
are  too  base  to  take  up  thy  love  or  care,  or 
to  trouble  thy  noble  heart,  thy  immortal  and 
heavenly  mind.  Let  them  care  and  sorrow, 
or  rejoice  about  these  things,  who  are  of  the 
world,  for  whom  Christ  would  not  pray. 

11.  Thou  canst  not  please  nor  serve  two 
masters  at  once :  thou  canst  not  love  divers 
and  contrary  things  ;  if,  then,  thou  wouldst 
know  what  thou  lovest,  mark  well  what  thou 
thinkest  most  upon.  Leave  earth,  and  have 
heaven  ;  leave  the  world  and  have  God. 

12.  All  sin  and  vice  spring  from  the  prop- 
erly of  our  own  will  ;  all  virtue  and  perfec- 
tion come  and  grow  from  the  mortifying  of 
it,  and  the  resigning  of  it  wholly  to  the  pleas- 
U'e  and  wiK  of  God. 


93 


APPEIDIX. 


LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGH  TON:* 


BY  JAMES  AIRMAN. 


IN  an  a<?e  when  the  study  of  Theology 
was  the  universal  and  leading  pursuit,  and 
amounted  almost  to  a  passion,  Robert  Leigh- 
ton  was  a  pre-eminent  theologian  ;  not  so 
much  from  his  acquirements  in  that  species 
of  literature,  in  which,  however,  he  was 
deeply  skilled,  as  from  the  delightful  example 
he  exhibited,  in  his  life  and  writings,  of  a 
religion  he  cordially  believed,  and,  as  far  as 
his  apprehensions  extended,  faithfully  copied. 
He  was  not  free  in  his  conduct  from  the 
errors  of  humanity,  but  he  was  one  of  the 
very  few  who  err  on  the  lovelier  side  ;  his 
amiability  of  temper,  and  purity  of  principle, 
led  him  to  carry,  among  men  of  sterner  stuff, 
the  proposals  of  Charity  which  he  professed, 
farther  than  either  accorded  with  the  situa- 
tion he  held,  the  rights  that  were  in  peril,  or 
the  temper  of  the  times.  It  therefore  hap- 
pened to  him,  as  must  happen  to  all  placed 
in  similar  circumstances,  that  his  character 
was  viewed  by  his  contemporaries,  in  ex- 
tremes ;  and  as  posterity  do  not  easily  get  rid 
of  the  feelings  of  their  ancestors,  it  has,  even 
in  our  days,  been  looked  at  in  very  different 
lights. 

Men  have  no  right  lo  visit  the  sins  of  the 
fathers  upon  the  cliildren,  yet  it  is  no  inde- 
fensible propensity  to  esteem  the  seed  of  the 
righteous,  to  feel  grief  for  them  when  they 
leave  the  paths  of  their  progenitors,  and  if 
they  have  descended  from  persecuted  parents, 
and  join  their  persecutors,  to  address  them  as 
the  prophet  did  Jeiioshaphat,  "Shouldht  thou 
help  the  ungodly,  and  love  thern  that  hate 
the  Lord  ?  therefore  there  is  wrath  upon  thee 
from  before  the  Lord:  nevertheless,  there  are 
good  things  found  about  thee." 

That  such  sentiments  should  have  been 
entertained,  respecting  the  subj(>ct  of  this 
memoir,  by  many  excellent  men  in  Scotland, 
will  not  a[)pear  strange  when  the  cruel  inflic- 
tion his  father,  Dr.  Alex^der  Leigbion,  un- 
derwent, is  considered  ;  and  however  hi.s  own 

•  An  edition  of  Lcighton's  Works  has  been  re- 
cently piiblislied  in  Kdinbiirfjh,  to  whicli  is  prefixed 
a  "  l.ifr  of  llie  Aulliiir,"  by  Jiiines  Aikirian.  As  this 
Life  contains  soine  ineniorlals  and  letters  not  incor- 
porated in  Pearson's  Life  prefixed  to  this  volume,  the 
publisher  has  thought  it  advisable  to  insert  them  in 
the  form  of  on  Apj)endii. 


'  mind  might  have  felt  justified  in  the  change, 
.  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  prcsbyterians, 
who  were  themselves  suffering  for  the  same 
cause,  which  they  were  fully  persuaded  was 
for  righteousness'  sake,  could  be  easily  con- 
vinced of  the  strength  of  those  reasons,  that 
influenced  the  son  of  such  a  father,  to  leave 
their  ranScs,  and  join  their  opponents. 

Dr.  Alexander  Leighton  was  descended,  it 
is  said,  of  an  ancient  family  in  Forfarshire, 
whose  chief  seat  was  Ulys-haven,  or  Usen, 
but  the  fact  is  as  obscure  as  it  is  unimportant ; 
it  is  certain  that  he  was  one  of  the  numerous 
host  of  confessors  who  bore  testimony  against 
the  enormous  abuse  of  prelatic  power  in  his 
day,  and  suffered  severely  for  it. 

As  was  not  uncommon  in  these  times  of 
persecuiion,  although  a  minister  of  the  gos- 
pel, he  had  also  studied  inedi(^ine,  and  after- 
ward i)ractised  it  in  London  during  the  reiga 
of  James  I.  and  early  in  that  of  Charles  L, 
where  he  also  exercised  his  ministry,  but 
whether  to  any  stated  congregation  does  not 
appear.  Warmly  attached  to  presbyterian 
j  princii)les,  he  took  part  in  the  violent  and 
I  dangerous  controversies  then  agitating  Eng- 
land, and  published  a  work  entitled:  "An 
Appeal  to  the  Parliament,  or  Zion's  Plea 
against  thePrelacie:  the  summe  whereof  is 
delivered  in  a  Decade  of  Positions.  In  the 
handling  whereof  the  Lord  Bishops  and  their 
appurtenances  are  manifestly  j)roved,  both 
by  divine  and  humane  lawes,  to  be  intruders 
upon  the  priviledges  of  Christ,  of  the  King, 
and  of  the  Commonweal :  and  therefore  upon 
good  evidence  given,  she  hartelie  desirelh  a 
judgment  and  execution — printed  in  the  year 
and  moneth  wherein  Rochelle  was  lost, 
1628."  The  style  of  the  book  is  in  perfect 
-ecordance  with  what  unhap|)ily  is  the  gen- 
eral style  of  polemics,  and  such  as  we  havt 
seen  exemplified,  even  in  our  own  day,  when 
men  allow  ilieir  passions  to  intermingle  with 
their  controversies:  yet  it  was  not  more  vir- 
ulent, if  it  was  as  much  so,  as  many  of  those 
which  appeared  on  the  opposite  side. 

For  this  work  he  was  brought  to  trial,  and 
the  arguments  of  the  book,  which  plainly 
proved  that  an  overgrown,  ambitious,  and 
tyrannical  prelacy,  was  not  the  ministry  ap. 


740 


APi'Lx'IDlJC. 


poiiited  by  Cnnst  in  his  church,  were,  it 
seems,  asi^ravated  by  the  imprint,  as  mark- 
ing his  dissatisfaction  to  government — it  being 
the  general  belief,  that  if  England  had  inter- 
fered in  behalf  of  the  French  proicstants, 
Rochelle  would  have  been  saved  from  the 
hands  of  the  Papists;  and  by  the  book  being 
also  decorated,  according  to  the  fashion  of 
the  day,  with  two  hioroglyphical  cuts  expla- 
natory of  the  subject,  the  first  a  burning 
lamp,  supported  by  a  book  and  two  armed 
men  guarding  it ;  the  legend,  not  remarkably 
elegant,  explained  the  meaning: 

Prevailing  prelates  strive  to  quench  our  light, 
Kxcept  your  sacred  power  quash  their  might. 

The  other  represented  an  elder  bush  growing 
out  of  a  ruinous  lower,  from  whose  branches 
a  parcel  of  bishops  were  tumbling,  one  of 
them  with  a  strong  box  in  his  hand — the 
legend, 

The  tottering  prelates  with  their  trumpery  all, 
Shall  moulder  down  like  elder  from  a  weQI. 

*  These,  which  were  grating  subjects  in  the 
days  of  Charles  to  the  members  of  the  Eng- 
lish Hierarchy,  and  not  over-pleasani  in  the 
days  of  Georire  IV.,*  will  scarcely  be  deemed 
any  palliation  c.  the  conduct  of  the  Star 
Chamber,  in  their  treatment  of  the  author, 
even  although  it  was  under  the  influence  of 
the  bishops. 

He  was  arrested  early  in  1629,  hurried  to  a 
wretched  cell  in  Newgate,  low,  damp,  and 
without  light,  except  what  was  admitted, 
along  with  the  rain,  from  an  aperture  in  the 
roof,  overrun  with  rats  and  other  vermin. 
Here  he  lay  from  Tuesday  night  till  Thurs- 
day at  noon,  without  food,  and  for  fourteen 
days  endured  solitary  confinement  in  this 
miserable  hole:  while  his  house,  in  his  ab- 
sence, was  rifled,  his  books  destroyed,  and  his 
papers  carried  off.  After  sixteen  weeks'  cap- 
tivity, he  was  served  with  an  information  of 
the  crimes  with  which  he  was  charsed,  but 
he  was  sick  and  unable  to  attend,  and  from 
the  nature  of  his  disorder,  a  fitter  object  of 
compassion  than  punishment,  for  the  skin 
and  hair  had  almost  wholly  come  off  his  body. 

Yet  though  thus  afflicted,  this  aged,  infirm 
divine,  was  condemned  to  a  punishment  the 
stoutest  ruffian  could  hardly  have  endured, 
which  some  of  the  lords  of  court  conceived 
could  never  be  inflicted  cm  a  dying  man,  and 
was  only  held  out  as  a  terror  to  others:  it 
was— to  be  degraded  as  a  minister,  to  have 
his  ears  cut  off,  his  nose  slit,  to  be  branded  in 
*he  face,  to  stand  in  the  pillory,  to  be  whipped 
at  a  post,  to  pay  a  fine  of  £1000,  and  to  suf- 
fer imprisonment  till  it  was  paid  ;  the  which 
when  Archbishop  Laud  heard  pronounced, 
he  pulled  off  his  hat,  and  holding  up  his 
hands,  gave  thanks  to  God,  who  had  given 
the  church  victory  over  her  enemies!  And 
it  was  mercilessly  inflicted.    On  the  twenty- 

•  Pearson's  Life  of  Archbishop  Leighton,  prefixed 
to  this  edition  of  his  works.  The  following  referen- 
ces are  to  that  Memoir. 


ninth  of  November,  in  a  cold,  frosty  Jay,  he 
was  stripped,  and  received  thirty-six  lashes 
with  a  triple  cord,  after  which  he  stood  dur- 
ing a  snow-storm  two  hours  half-naked  oit 
the  pillory  at  Westminster,  was  branded  on 
one  cheek  with  a  red-hot  iron,  had  one  ear 
cut  off,  and  one  side  of  his  nose  slit.  On 
that  day  jp"ennight,  ere  his  sores  were  healed, 
he  was  taken  to  the  pillory  at  Cheapside,  and 
underwent  the  remainder  of  his  sentence. 
He  was  then  carried  back  to  prison,  and  shut 
in  for  upward  of  ten  years  until  the  meeting 
of  the  Long  Parliament :  when  released  from 
his  miserable  confinement,  he  could  hardly 
walk,  see,  or  hear.  The  Parliament  reversed 
all  the  proceedings  against  him,  and  voted 
him  £6000  for  his  great  sufferings  and  dama- 
ges, and  in  1642  gave  him  an  appointment. 
He  died  about  1649. 

Dr.  Leighton  had  two  sons,  the  eldest 
Robert,  the  second  Elisha  ;  and  two  daugh- 
ters, the  eldest  Sapphira,  the  other  Mrs. 
Rathband,  of  whom  nothing  more  is  known. 
Robert  was  born  in  the  year  1611,  in  Lon- 
don, and  Burnet  tells  us,  "  he  was  sent  to  his 
father  to  be  bred  in  Scotland."  The  year  when 
he  was  sent  thither,  or  how  his  education  was 
conducted  till  he  became  a  student  in  the  uni- 
versity of  Edinburgh,  in  1627,  forms  a  blank 
in  his  life,  which  can  not  now  be  filled  up. 
He  attended  the  different  classes  till  1631, 
when  he  took  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts; 
and  it  deserves  to  be  noticed,  that  the  profes- 
sors during  that  period  were  chiefly  men  who 
were  attached  to  the  mongrel,  semi-episcopal, 
semi-presbyterian  latitudinarianism,  which 
was  the  court  religion  of  the  time  in  Scot- 
land. He  had  early  imbibed  a  decided  aver- 
sion for  the  whole  frame  of  the  church  of 
England — and  no  wonder!  but  the  mixed 
system  of  episcopacy  then  taught  in  the 
Scottish  school,  which  allowed  of  a  synod 
of  presbyters  with  a  permanent  presiding 
bishop,  similar  to  what  Mosheim  thinks  was 
early  introduced  into  the  Christian  ciiurch, 
appears  to  have  been  the  pivot  on  which  his 
young  mind  rested  the  balance  between  the 
opposing  systems,  for  it  does  not  appear  he 
had  then  decided.  The  circumstances  of  his 
family  not  permitting  him  to  apply  lo  the 
ecclesiastical  courts  for  license,  he  went 
abroad. 

Burnet,  to  whose  brief  notices  we  are 
chiefly  indebted  for  any  account  of  young 
Leighton,  says,  "From  Scotland  his  father 
sent  him  to  travel."  How  his  father,  who 
was  previously  immured  in  his  miserable 
habitation,  found  the  means  to  do  so,  we  are 
left  to  conjecture.  He  travelled  several  years 
in  France,  and  resided  some  time  at  Douay, 
where  lie  had  relatives  ;  he  is  here  reported 
or  supposed  to  have  fallen  in  with  some  reli- 
gionists, "  whose  lives  were  framed  on  the 
strictest  model  of  primitive  piety;"  but  as  in 
his  writings  he  has  repeatedly  declared  hia 
opinion  to  be,  that  the  church  of  Rome  is  ut- 
terly anti-Christian,  it  is  not  at  all  probable, 


AIRMAN'S  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


741 


that  "the  practice  of  the  monks  there  had 
much,  if  any,  influence  in  abating  his  vener- 
ation for  the  "  presbyterian  platform ;"  at 
least,  he  embraced  the  first  opportunity  of 
returning  to  Scotland,  and  accepting  a  pres- 
byterian charge.  * 

During  his  absence  on  the  continent,  a  se- 
ries of  events  had  taken  place  in  Scotland, 
that  had  entirely  overturned  the  pseudo- 
prelacy,  which  he  had  left  in  power,  and 
covenanted  presbyterianism,  in  the  strictest 
sense  that  it  ever  w^as  professed,  was  estab- 
lished instead,  by  the  laws  of  the  land,  and 
in  the  affections  of  the  people.  Leighton 
was  a  man  of  peace,  and  when  the  struggle 
was  at  its  height,  he  did  not  choose  to  mingle 
in  the  fray,  but  when  the  religious  commu- 
nity were  rejoicing  in  the  acquisition  of  tiieir 
freedom,  and  their  favorite  form  of  church- 
government,  he  came  home  to  swell  the  tri- 
umph, and  enjoy  the  gale.  Accordingly,  on 
his  return  to  Scotland,  having  been  unani- 
mously called  by  the  congregation  of  New- 
botile,  a  parish  in  the  presbytery  of  Dalkeith, 
afier  passing  through  the  usual  course  of  trial 
for  the  ministry  to  the  great  satisfaction  of 
his  judges,  he  was  ordained  there  on  the  six- 
teenth of  December,  1641,  being  then  in  the 
thirtielli  year  of  his  age.  The  parish  is  de- 
lightfully situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Esk, 
among  whose  romantic  scenery  Leighton 
could  enjoy  the  retirement  he  so  much  loved  ; 
and  the  residence  of  the  Earl  of  Lothian  in 
the  abbey  within  his  hounds,  a  nobleman  at- 
tached to  the  cause  of  religion,  in  whose 
family  he  miglit  cultivate  the  advantages  of 
elevated  society,  would  add  considerably  to 
its  charms.  To  the  manner  in  which  he 
fulfilled  the  duties  of  a  parocliial  minister, 
perhaps  the  obscurity  in  which  this  is  in- 
volved may  be  considered  the  highest  testi- 
mony. A  person  who  afterward  arrived  at 
such  distinguished  eminence  in  such  turbu- 
lent times,  must  have  acted  with  more  than 
ordinary  diligence  and  circumspection,  to 
have  escaped  blame,  from  such  critical  scru- 
tinizers  as  he  was  exposed  to.  'I'hese  duties 
were  what  men  of  modern  times  would 
shrink  from,  for  they  were  the  entire  business 
of  a  minister's  life,  what  the  word  of  God 
and  the  rules  of  his  church  enjoinec"  what 
his  people  expected,  and  what  his  co-presby- 
ters practised  themselves,  and  enforced  on 
their  brethren.  Besides  the  services  of  the 
Sabbath,  there  were  usually  one  or  more  lec- 
tures or  sermons  preached  during  the  week  ; 
the  parishioners  were  regularly  visited  from 
house  to  house,  the  whole  as  punctually  ex- 
amined, particularly  the  young,  the  instruc- 
tion of  whom  it  was  an  important  part  of  tht 
ministerial  function  to  superintend  ;  both  by 
inspecting  tlie  schools,  and  inquiring  into 
their  progress  in  religious  and  useful  learn- 
ing,  and  by  their  visitations  at  their  homes 
to  watch  over  their  moral  training — a  species 
of  education,  the  last  especially,  the  fruits  of 
wiiich  were  abundantly  manifest  in  the  next 


generation,  which  was  destine.!  to  bear  the 
fiery  irial  of  a  twenty-eight  years'  furnace. 
Leighton,  whose  delight  was  in  his  work, 
it  may  be  easily  imagined,  would  not  abridge 
any  of  these  necessary  duties;  and  all  his 
biographers  concur  in  stating,  that  he  was 
most  assiduous  in  discharging  the  various 
branches  of  his  sacred  office.  "  He  diligently 
visited  the  poor  of  the  fiuck,  was  ever  to  be 
found  in  the  chambers  of  the  afflicted,  and  at 
the  beds  of  the  sick  or  the  dying.  He  pro- 
moted personal,  domestic,  social,  and  public 
religion,  to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  by  pre- 
cept, example,  and  prayer."  One  solitary 
anecdote  remains  of  this  interval. 

It  was  the  practice  of  the  presbytery,  to 
inquire  of  their  members  twice  a  year, 
whether  they  preached  to  the  times?  that  is, 
whether  they  improved  the  serious  and  alarm- 
ing circumstances  by  which  they  were  sur- 
rounded, and  at  a  period,  when  the  pulpit 
was  almost  the  only  medium  through  which 
the  people  could  be  informed  of  the  state  of 
public  affairs— directed  in  the  duty  which 
they  were  required  to  pursue — whether  the 
ministers  acted  as  faithful  watchmen  ? — 
Leighton  acknowledged  the  omission,  but 
adroitly  apologized  for  it,  by  saying,  "  If  all 
the  brethren  have  preached  to  the  times,  may 
not  one  poor  brother  be  allowed  to  preach  lor 
eternity?"  a  question  which,  had  his  co- 
presbyters  been  the  zealots  of  a  party,  would 
have  been  received  by  anything  tiut  approba- 
tion. And  it  is  exceedingly  doubtful,  in  times 
of  dread  import,  like  those  in  which  he  lived, 
when  the  wheels  of  Providence  seem  moving 
onward  with  accelerated  motion,  laden  with 
events  to  which  the  mysterious  voice  of 
prophecy  calls  our  attention — -it  seems  more 
than  douljtful  whether  the  ministers  of  God 
are  not  liable  to  the  rebuke,  "Ye  can  discern 
the  face  of  the  heavens,  but  can  ye  not  dis- 
cern the  signs  of  the  times  ?"  when  they 
keep  silence,  and  do  not  "  preach  to  the 
times." 

Two  very  different  testimonies  respecting 
the  nature  of  Leighton's  pulpit  oratory  have 
come  down  to  us.  "His  preaching,"  says 
Burnet,  "had  a  sublimity  both  of  thought 
and  expression  in  it.  The  grace  and  gravity 
was  such,  that  few  heard  him  without  a  sen- 
sible emotion.  I  am  sure  I  never  did.  His 
style  was  rather  too  fine,  but  there  was  a 
majesty  and  beauty  in  it,  that  left  so  deep  an 
impression,  that  I  can  not  yet  forget  the  ser- 
mon I  heard  him  preach  thirty  years  ago. 
And  yet  with  this  he  seemed  to  look  on  him- 
self as  so  ordinary  a  preacher  that  while  he 
had  a  cure,  he  was  ready  to  employ  all  oth- 
ers;  and  when  he  was  a  bishop,  he  chose  to 
preach  to  small  auditories,  and  would  never 
give  notice  beforehand  ;  he  had  indeed  a  ver) 
low  voice,  and  so  could  not  be  heard  by  a 
great  crowd."  Baillie,  in  speaking  of  An 
drew  Gray,  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
young  ministers  that  has  appeared  in  the 
church  of  Scotland,  who=e  memory  is  yet 


I 


742 


iPPENDIX. 


fresh  in  tht  west,  and  whose  sermons,  jtub- 
lished  under  every  possible  disadvantaije, 
evince  thai  it  deserves  to  be  so,  thus  obliquely 
gives  the  o(>inii)n  he  and  iiis  moderate  breth- 
ren held  of  Leiijliton's  ministerial  instruc- 
tions. "  He  has  the  new  guise  of"  preachiiicf, 
which  Mr.  Hugh  Binning  and  Mr.  Robert 
Leighion  began,  containina:  the  ordinary  way 
of  expounding  and  dividing  a  text,  of  raising 
doctrines  and  uses  :  but  runs  out  a  discourse 
on  some  common  head,  in  a  high  romancing 
and  inscriptural  style,  tickling  the  ear  for  the 
present,  and  moving  the  affections  in  some, 
but  leaving  little  or  naught  to  the  memory 
and  unders'tandinn;." 

That  Gray  and  Binning  were  amazingly 
popular,  is  well  attested  ;  that  Leighton  de- 
served to  be  equally  or  more  so,  will  appear 
evident  from  a  comparison  of  the  remains 
they  have  left  behind  them  ;  for  all  have 
written  sjiecimens  of  their  sermons,  and 
respecting  the  merit  of  our  author's,  we  shall 
afterward  speak.^  But  those  only  who  beard 
the  living  preachers,  could  tell  us  of  their 
eloquence.  They  who  know  —  and  what 
clown  does  not  know?— the  power  of  the 
keen  language  of  the  eye,  the  emphasis  of 
countenance,  the  varied  tone  and  energy  of 
voice,  even  the  influence  of  grave  appropriate 
action,  can  note  the  difference  between  the 
living  and  the  dead.  In  the  church  of  Scot- 
land when  in  her  glory,  reading  was  un- 
known, and  would  not  have  been  tolerated. 
The  ministers  were  too  much  alive  to  the 
importance  of  their  Tsubjects  to  waste  much  ; 
time  upon  the  "conning  of  nice  phrases," 
and  depended  more  upon  the  vigor  than  the 
polish  of  their  language;  yet  were  they  not 
inelegant  or  careless,  as  the  posthumous 
works  of  all  these  eminent  three  bear  ample 
evidence:  but  their  usual  method  appears  to 
have  been,  first  they  studied  their  subject  ful- 
ly, then  wrote  a  few  notes,  in  modern  terms 
made  a  skeleton  of  their  discourse,  and  left ; 
the  filling  up  to  the  fulness  of  their  heart  at 
the  time  of  the  delivery.  This  appears  to 
have  been^the  case  especially  with  Andrew 
Gray,  but  in  some  instances  the  sermons  ap- 
pear to  have  been  fully  written  out,  although 
not  slavishly  delivered,  as  in  the  case  of 
Hugh  Binning.  And  it  is  a  curious  fact,  that 
the  whole  of  Durham's  elaborate  commentary 
on  the  Revelations,  forming  a  folio  volume, 
containing  many  calculations,  and  several 
profound  disquisitions,  was  delivered  without 
having  been  committed  to  paper,  but  taken 
down  as  he  delivered  it,  was  copied  out  after- 
ward, and  brought  to  himself  for  correction, 
except  a  very  few  of  the  last  sheets.  Indeed, 
it  appears  strange,  that  the  reading  of  ser- 
mons should  ever  have  found  practitioners  or 
advocates,  except  among  the  indolent  or  im- 
becile:  and  I  apprehend  with  scarcely  an 
exception  it  will  be  found,  that  either  want  j 
of  capacity  or  want  of  diliarence  is  at  the 
root  of  the  practice,  and  in  either  case,  such 
a  person  ought  not  to  be  a  public  speaker. 


Where  God  has  withheld  "the  tale.tis  for 

public  speaking  from  a  man,  it  needs  no 
revelation  to  tell  us  that  that  man  was  never 
intended  for  a  public  speaker.  If  God  have 
bestowed  the  talents,  and  he  refuse  to  culti- 
vate them,  it  is  as  cleaf  that  that  man  is  un- 
worthy of  exercising  the  office  of  a  gospel 
minister.  If,  after  a  man  has  been  duly  called 
to  his  office,  and  if,  after  having  exercised  it 
faithfully,  it  has  pleased  the  inscrutable  wis- 
dom of  Heaven  to  deprive  him  of  any  of  his 
faculties,  it  becomes  then  a  question  whether 
he  ought  to  retire.  And  if  this  be  impossible 
or  improper,  say  that  merely  memory  has 
failed,  and  there  be  no  funds  for  his  support, 
and  his  people  be  unwilling  to  dispense  with 
his  services;  the  case  is  altered — let  him 
read.  But  I  believe  it  will  in  general  be 
found  in  the  cases  of  conversion,  that  often 
comparatively  weak  discourses  have  been 
blessed,  while  the  most  elaborately  composed 
discourses,  and  the  most  beautifully  read, 
have  been  merely  listened  to  as  elegant  es- 
says, or  praised  as  the  lovely  works  of  art. 
And  it  is  natural  that  it  should  be  so  ;  God  is 
the  God  of  means,  as  well  as  of  grace,  and 
he  has  appointed  the  living  voice,  the  "  fool- 
ishness of preac/tintr,"  whereby  to  save  them 
that  believe;  and  his  approbation,  not  the 
applause  of  elegant  or  crowded  auditories, 
ought  to  be  the  grand  end  and  aim  of  a  min- 
ister. Leighton  was  an  enemy  to  reading. 
"  I  know,"  he  said,  "  that  weakness  of  mem- 
ory is  pleaded  in  excuse  for  this  custom,  but 
better  mmds  would  make  better  memories. 
Such  an  excuse  is  unworthy  of  a  man,  and 
much  more  of  a  father,  who  may  want  vent 
indeed  in  addressing  his  children,  but  ought 
never  to  want  matter.  LikeElihu,  he  should 
be  refreshed  by  speaking." 

If  the  remark  hold  true  of  private,  as  of 
public  affiiirs,  that  the  years  which  aff'ord 
fewest  materials  for  the  historian  are  gene- 
rally those  that  have  been  the  happiest,  the 
years  which  Leighton  spent  at  Newbottle 
must  have  been  among  the  most  pleasant  of 
his  life  ;  but  toward  their  close,  the  political 
state  of  the  country  invaded  even  his  peace- 
ful retirement.  It  is  well  known  that  the 
troubles  of  Scotland,  from  the  Reformation 
till  the  final  expulsion  of  the  Stuarts,  arose 
from  contests  for  religious  and  civil  liberty 
on  the  part  of  the  people,  and  for  priestly 
power  and  absolute  despotism  on  the  part  of 
the  crown.  By  treachery  and  deceit,  the 
British  Solomon,  styled  king-craft,  James  the 
I.  had  during  a  long  reign  attempted,  and 
nearly  accomplished,  the  overthrow  of  the 
constitution  of  his  native  land — the  task  of 
completing  the  destruction  of  his  people's 
rights,  he  left  as  a  legacy  to  his  son;  this 
Charles  rashly  endeavored  to  accomplish, 
while  his  hands  were  fully  occupied  with  his 
English  subjects,  and,  by  introducing  the  lit- 
urgy among  a  people  who  detested  it,  he  put 
the'match  to  a  train  that  lay  ready  for  explo- 
sion— the  consequence  was,  that  after  an  idle 


AIRMAN'S  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


743 


parade  of  royal  weakness,  when  opposed  to  ' 
the  universal  wish  of  a  people,  he  was  forced  ' 
to  give  a  free  and  fair  constitution,  securing 
the  rights  of  his  subjects  from  princely  or 
prelatic  invasion.  Of  this  constitution  the 
covenant  was  the  cause,  and  on  every  in- 
fringement, it  was  renewed  as  the  guaranty. 
In  it  the  king  and  people  swore  to  the  per- 
formance of  their  various  duties,  and  among 
others,  to  preserve  the  religion  as  then  estab- 
lished, and  to  resist  all  innovations  tending  to 
reintroduce  the  prelacy. 

A  multiplication  of  oaths  to  men  in  public 
life,  besides  being  one  of  the  slenderest  of  all 
lies  to  unprincipled  men,  is  one  of  the  worst 
in  Christian  nations,  as  it  uniforrhly  involves 
them  in  varied  and  multiplied  iniquity  ;  it 
distresses,  binds,  and  debilitates,  the  minds 
of  the  conscientious,  while  it  is  frail  as  Samp- 
son's green  withs  to  the  sturdy  politician. 
But  if  ever  there  was  a  time,  when  a  solemn 
declaration  of  principles,  and  an  explicit 
promise  or  vow  to  observe  them,  were  called 
for,  it  was  just  about  the  period  when  Leigh- 
ton  entered  upon  the  pastoral  office  at  New- 
bottle  ;  and  I  think  it  plain  from  his  own 
writings,  ihat  he  conscientiously  viewed  the 
covenant  in  this  light,  and  subscribed  it  at  his 
ordination  without  scruple.  Had  Charles  I. 
been  sincere  when  he  ratified  the  acts  of  the 
Scottish  parliament,  he  might  have  reigned 
a  powerful  monarch,  and  died  a  better  man  ; 
but  his  duplicity  led  to  the  great  civil  war, 
^nd  forced  Scotland  and  England  to  join  to- 
gether for  mutual  preservation  from  threat- 
ened tyranny.  They  did  so,  in  an  agreement 
known  by  the  name  of  the  Solemn  League 
and  Covenant,  in  which  they  pledged  them- 
selves to  endeavor  uniformity  in  religion  ac- ' 
cording  to  the  word  of  God,  and  tlfe  exiirpa-  ' 
tion  of  prelacy  ;  and  this,  in  ihe  form  of  an 
oath,  was  forced  upon  almost  every  inhabi- 
tant of  Scotland.  But  it  deserves  especial 
notice,  that  ihe  zealots  who  were  most  for- 
ward in  pressing  this  oath,  were  tlie  political 
presbyterians,  men  whose  exuberance  of  fire, 
like  that  of  all  violent  partisans,  was  exactly 
in  proportion  to  their  lack  of  principle;  and 
they  who  were  then  the  chief  instruments  of 
covenanting  oppression,  were  the  very  per- 
sons who  turned  apostates,  and  were  the 
chief  instruments  of  prelatical  persecution. 

Leigh  ton,  whose  aversion  to  the  lordly 
pomp  of  the  English  hierarchy  was  undoubt- 
edly as  sincere  as  it  was  well  founded,  un- 
hesitatingly subscribed  this  bond  himself, 
and  afterward  administered  it  to  the  students 
in  Edinburgh  university.  He  thus  explains 
the  reason  of  his  facility:  "For  it  would  be 
noted,  that  when  the  covenant  was  framed, 
there  was  no  episcopacy  at  all  in  being  in 
Scotland,  but  in  England  only,  so  that  the 
extirpation  u['  that  frame  only  could  then  be 
merely  intended."  It  may  be  difficult,  how- 
ever, to  exculpate  him  from  the  error  of  hav- 
ing first  vowed  and  then  made  inquiry  ;  nor, 
when  he  attempts  it  himself,  is  he  very  suc- 


cessful— but  great  allowance  must  be  made  fo/ 
the  gentleness  of  his  natural  disposition,  and 
his  most  amiable  desire  for  peace,  especially 
when  his  whole  life  evinced  that  he  was  nei- 
ther actuated  by  motives  of  covetousness  or 
ambition  ;  and  whether  we  agree  with  him 
or  not,  we  must  agree,  that  as  his  life  was 
holy,  there  can  be  little  doubt  but  his  motives 
were  pure.  Let  us  however  hear  himself, 
though  in  this  case  he  appears  to  have  lost 
something  of  his  sweetness  of  tciiiper. 

"  The  truth  is,  that  besides  many  other 
evils,  the  iniquity  and  unhappiness  of  such 
oaths  and  covenants  lie  much  in  this,  that, 
being  commonly  framed  by  persons,  that  even 
amongst  themselves  are  not  fully  of  one 
mind,  but  have  their  different  opinions  and 
interests  to  serve — and  it  was  so  even  in  this 
— they  commonly  patched  up  so  many  arti- 
cles and  clauses,  and  these  too  of  so  versatile 
and  ambiguous  terms,  that  they  prove  most 
wretched  snares,  and  thickets  of  briers  and 
thorns  to  the  consciences  of  those  who  are 
engaged  in  them,  and  matter  of  endless  con- 
tentions and  disputes  among  them,  about  the 
true  sense  and  intendment,  and  the  ties  and 
obligations  of  those  doubtful  clauses,  espe- 
cially in  such  alterations  and  revolutions  of 
affairs,  as  always  may,  and  often  do,  even 
within  few  years,  follow  after  them,  for  the 
models  and  productions  of  such  devices  are 
not  usually  long-lived.  And  whatsoever  may 
be  said  for  their  excuse,  in  whole  or  in  part, 
who,  in  yielding  to  the  power  that  pressed  it, 
and  the  general  opinion  of  this  church  at 
that  time,  did  take  ihat  covenant  in  the  most 
moderate  and  least  schismatical  sense  that 
the  terms  can  admit ;  yet  I  know  not  what 
can  be  said  to  clear  them  of  a  very  great  sin, 
that  not  only  framed  such  an  engine,  but  vio- 
lently imposed  it  upon  all  ranks  of  men,  not 
ministers  and  public  persons  only,  but  the 
whole  body  and  community  of  the  people, 
thereby  engaging  su(^h  droves  of  poor  igno- 
rant persons,  to  they  know  not  what ;  and,  to 
speak  freely,  to  such  a  hodgc-jjodgo  of  things 
of  various  concernments,  relii;ious  and  civil, 
as  church  discipline  and  government,  the 
privileges  of  parliaments,  and  liberties  of 
subjects,  and  condign  punishment  of  malig- 
nants,  things  hard  enough  for  the  wisest  and 
learned  est  to  draw  the  just  lines  of,  and  to  give 
plain  definitions  and  decisions  of  them,  and 
therefore  certainly  as  far  off  from  the  reach 
of  poor  country  people's  understanding,  as 
from  the  true  interest  of  their  souls,  and  yet 
to  tie  them  by  a  religious  oath,  either  to 
know  all,  or  to  contend  for  them  blindfold, 
without  knowing  of  them." 

These  sentiments  are  contained  in  his 
"  Modest  Defence  of  Moderate  Episcopacy," 
written  after  ho  was  a  bishop,  ami  consider- 
ing the  cause  he  had  to  defend,  might  pass 
without  much  observation,  althouijh,  if  car- 
ried their  proper  length,  they  would  exclude 
j  the  people  from  any  voice  in  the  choice  or 
I  conduct  of  their  rulers,  civil  and  ecclesiasti* 


744 


APPENDIX. 


cal,  and  lead  to  the  quietude  of  a  settled  des- 
potism in  tlie  cliurcli  and  state.  But  it  is  a 
painful  example  of  how  far  partiality  for  a 
side,  or  the  sujjposed  necessity  of  advocating 
a  had  cause,  may  carry  a  good  man,  when 
we  hear  him  in  the  next  sentence  asi<ing, 
"Where  will  he  instanced  a  greater  oppres- 
sion and  tyranny  over  consciences  than  this  ?" 
and  replying,  "Certainly  they  that  now  gov- 
ern in  this  church,  can  not  be  charged  with 
Bnythin<r  near  or  like  unto  it,  for  whatsoever 
they  require  of  intrants  to  the  ministry,  they 
require  neither  subscriptions  nor  oaths  of 
ministers  already  entered,  and  far  less  of  the 
whole  body  of  the  people.'"  Yet  at  this  very 
time,  had  the  whole  ministry  been  required 
to  acknowledge  the  royal  supremacy  in  mat- 
ters ecclesiastical,  and  own  a  power  in  the 
church,  wiiich  they  understood  to  be  subver- 
sive of  that  of  her  head  and  king:  still  there 
is  no  divine  more  clear  upon  the  character  of 
Christ,  as  the  sole  lawgiver  and  ruler  of  his 
people,  than  our  author. 

While  Leigh  Ion's  mind  was  hurt  by  the 
manner  in  which  the  Solemn  League  and 
Covenant  was  pressed,  he  naturally  associ- 
ated with  those  whose  sentiments  on  this 
subject  accorded  with  his  own.  Among  them 
was  the  father  of  Gilbert  Burnet,  of  the 
episcopalian  jiersuasion,  and  particularly  at- 
tached to  the  Hamilton  family,  with  whose 
fortunes  Lcighton  had  almost  associated  his 
own.  After  the  providence  of  God  had  de- 
clared against  Charles,  and  he  was  a  captive 
in  the  hands  of  his  opponents,  still  he  might 
have  returned  to  his  throne  with  honor, 
could  he  have  submitted  to  he  honest,  but  he 
wished  to  reascend  it  uncontrolled,  and 
played  a  double  game  that  led  him  to  the 
scaffold.  Unfortunately,  the  Duke  of  Hamil- 
ton was  induced  to  second  his  efforts,  by 
breaking  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant 
with  England,  and  entering  into  an  engage- 
ment with  the  captive  monarch.  This  en- 
gagement— which,  if  successful,  would  have 
laid  the  kingdoms  prostrate  at  the  feet  of  an 
incensed  sovereign,  who  would  give  them  no 
security  f<;r  all  they  had  been  fighting  for, 
except  "  the  word  of  a  prince,"  and  that  had 
been  forfeited  at  least  a  score  of  times — di- 
vided Scotland  ;  part  resolving  to  maintain 
the  covenant,  and  part  entering  into  the  en- 
gagement. Among  those  who  favored  the 
latter,  were  all  who  had  any  leaning  toward 
episcopacy,  and  Leigbion,  who  had  hitherto 
kept  aloof  from  the  politics  of  the  day,  was 
most  unfortunately  induced  by  his  new  asso- 
ciates, to  declare  in  favor  of  an  engagement, 
the  terms  of  which  were  not  fully  known 
at  the  time,  and  which  we  would  in  charity 
nope  were  misrepresented  to  him,  as  they 
were  tc  others :  like  every  effort  in  favor  of 
the  unhappy  Charles,  the  project  failed,  and 
involved  himself  and  his  adherents  in  deeper 
luin. 

The  high  character  of  Leighton,  and  tne 
friendship      the  Earl  of  Lothian,  saved  him 


I  from  any  very  serious  consequences  his 
I  conduct,  while  the  dominant  party  showed 
their  liberality,  by  sparing  so  conspicuous  an 
opponent  from  any  other  punishment  thav, 
api)ointing  him  to  rebuke  th(^se  of  his  pa- 
rishioners who  had  accompanied  the  duke  in 
his  disastrous  exi)editioii.  There  is  more  of 
policy  than  of  godly  simplicity  in  the  manner 
in  which  he  extricated  himself  frc^m  a  dilem- 
ma that  could  not  fail  of  being  extremely 
irksome  to  an  ingenuous  mind  ;  and  when 
parties  run  so  high,  and  the  times  were  so 
perilous,  it  says  a  great  deal  for  the  forbear- 
ance of  the  presbytery,  that  such  an  evasion 
of  their  injunctions  was  overlooked.  When 
the  parties  ordered  to  make  public  profession 
of  their  repentance  came  before  him,  he  told 
them  they  had  been  in  an  expedition  in  which 
he  believed  they  had  neglected  their  duty  to 
God  ;  and  liad  been  guilty  of  injustice  and 
violence,  of  drunkenness  and  other  immo- 
ralities, and  he  charged  them  to  repent  of 
these  very  seriously,  without  meddling  with 
the  quarrel  or  the  ground  of  that  war.  This 
lesson  seems  to  have  cured  Leighton  of  med- 
dling with  politics,  as  we  hear  no  more'upon 
this  head  till  after  the  restoration  ;  but  from 
the  slight  notices  in  Baillie's  Letters,  it  would 
appear  that  he  associated  with  the  high-flyers 
in  the  church,  who  were  evangelical  in  their 
preaching,  and  suspected  of  favoring  the  sec- 
taries, a  predilection  which  naturally  arose 
from  the  inferior  weight  he  gave  to  differen- 
ces upon  matters  of  church-government  when 
put  in  competition  with  personal  piety  ;  and 
perhaps  his  laxness  on  that  point,  might  be 
not  a  little  increased  by  observing  the  perti- 
nacity with  which  many  contended  for  the 
form,  who  cared  very  little  about  the  power 
of  godlin^s,  who  were  more  anxious  about 
the  cut  of  their  vestments  than  the  conduct 
of  their  lives.  The  numerous  sects  and  va- 
rieties of  opinion  which  sprung  up  at  this 
time,  grievously  unhinged  men's  minds  on 
these  subjects,  and  the  bitterness  with  which 
the  sections  of  the  same  party  often  treated 
each  other,  made'the  quiet  of  the  land  wish 
for  the  wings  of  the  dove,  that  they  migtit 
fly  thence  and  be  at  rest. 

From  whatsoever  cause,  in  the  year  1652, 
after  the  arrival  of  the  second  Charles  among 
the  Scots  had  raised  their  dissensions  to  a 
height,  and  brought  their  affairs  to  a  crisis, 
and  when  his  defeat  had  strengthened  t'le 
distractions  in  the  church,  and  spread  a  wider 
desolation  in  the  country,  Leighton  tendered 
his  resignation  to  the  presbytery  ;  this  they 
declined  accepting,  and  he  was  persuaded  to 
remain  ;  but  when  there  appeared  little  pros- 
pect of  settlement  among  the  divided  presby- 
terians,  and  increasing  bitterness  of  spirit 
between  those  who  wished  and  prayed  for 
the  restoration  of  their  king,  and  those  who 
deprecated  such  an  event  from  the  specimen 
they  had  already  received  of  his  conduct  and 
disposition,  he  again  renewed  his  request, 
'and  on  'he  ''jd  of  February,  1653,  was  re- 


AIKMAN'S  LIFE  OF  AECHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


746 


■  easeJ  from  his  ministerial  connexion  with 
Newbottle,  after  having  labored  eleven  years 
diligently  among  them. 

Nothing  tries  a  man's  principles  better  than 
touching  his  purse,  and  were  we  to  judge 
from  the  conduct  of  many  who  bear  the 
name  of  Christian,  we  should  be  apt  to  ima- 
gine that  the  injunction,  "  Love  not  the 
world,  nor  the  things  of  the  world,"  ought  to 
be  inverted ;  but  wisdom  is  justified  of  her  chil- 
dren, and  sometimes  there  do  appear  men, 
whose  actions  corresponding  to  their  profes- 
sion, evince,  that  setting  the  affections  on 
thmgs  that  are  above,  and  not  on  things  be- 
low, is.  though  a  rare,  yet  a  real  attainment. 
Leighton  was  one;  and  a  circumstance  oc- 
curred about  this  time,  which  places  his  esti- 
mate of  the  uncertain  riches  of  time,  in  a 
striking  point  of  view,  and  which,  although 
it  possesses  an  appearance  of  carelessness, 
and  might  possibly  mark  him  out  as  a  fit 
prey  for  pecuniary  plunderers,  was  not  by 
himself  looked  back  upon  during  his  life 
with  much  pain  ;  and  that  he  got  so  far  above 
tiie  world  before  he  got  out  of  it,  will  not  be 
now  to  his  holy  spirit  any  cause  of  regret. 

His  father,  who  had  acquired  some  prop- 
erty after  his  sufferings,  having  died,  left 
him  about  one  thousand  pounds:  this,  which 
was  all  his  patrimony,  his  brother-in-law,  Mr. 
Lightrnaker,  had  advised  him  to  come  to 
London  and  get  placed  in  p-oper  security. 
Before  a  month  had  elapsed,  he  had  occasion 
to  acknowledge  the  propriety  of  his  broilier's 
advice,  for  the  merchant  in  whose  hands  tlie 
money  was  placed  became  bankrupt,  and  he 
lost  all  ;  but  as  his  heart  was  not  with  the 
treasure  that  had  perished,  he  was  not  affected 
beyond  what  a  Christian  ought. 

When  the  Scottish  religious  parties  could 
not  agree  among  themselves,  and  each  were 
anxious  to  obtain  an  ascendency,  the  English 
parliament,  now  paramount,  appointed  se- 
questrators, with  an  ample  commission  to 
superintend  the  setting  aside,  or  planting 
churches  or  universities.  These  uniformly 
supported  what  would  now  be  styled  the 
evangelical  party,  then  called  the'  remon- 
strants, to  which  Leighton  had  always  ad- 
hered, although  he  had  differed  on  the  polit- 
ical question  of  the  enffagement;  and  from 
among  these  the  sequestrators  filled  up  all  the 
vacancies  that  occurred — for  they  were  men  of 
superior  talents,  and  generally  reported  of 
superior  sanctity.  And  it  is  here  deserving 
of  especial  notice,  that  the  parliament  first, 
ind  Cromwell  afterward,  filled  the  public 
situations  in  the  church  and  universities  of 
Scotland,  solely  with  'nen  of  acknowledged 
abilities  and  good  conduct,  and  in  the  civil 
courts  with  judges  of  strict  integrity  and 
worth.  . 

In  tiie  seaich  after  persons  capable  of  fil- 
;ing  eminent  station.s,  Leighton  was  not  over- 
looked :  he  was  called  to  the  highly  respon- 
sible office  of  principal  in  the  university  of 
Edinburgh.  William  Co.ville,  minister  of 
94 


the  Scottish  church  at  Utrecht,  had  been  pre- 
viously elected,  but  as  he  was  a  known  ene- 
my to  the  existing  government,  he  was  set 
aside,  and  the  magistrates  of  the  capital,  who 
have  always  shown  a  due  submission  to  the 
powers  that  be,  joined  in  presenting  Mr. 
Robert  Leighton,  "who  was  prevailed  with 
to  accept  of  it,  because  in  it  he  was  wholly 
separated  from  all  church  matters."  The  min- 
isters were  joint  patrons,  but  refused  to  vote 
"  because,  though  they  were  content  with 
Mr.  Robert  Leighton,  they  were  not  clear  in 
the  manner  of  the  call."  This  event  took 
place  early  in  1653,  and  in  the  month  of  July 
following,  the  general  assembly  was  conduct- 
ed by  Lieut.  Col.  Cotterell,  under  a  guard  of 
foot-miisqueteers  and  dragoons,  a  mile  be- 
yond Edinburgh,  where  they  were  dismissed 
and  commanded  never  more  to  assemble ; 
government  conceiving  that  they  assumed  q 
civil  power  inconsistent  with  the  peace  of  the 
realtn.  Synods  and  inferior  judicatories  were 
allowed  to  meet,  but  from  this  time  all  coer. 
cive  power  was. removed  from  the  church,  and 
she  was  left  to  wield  her  own'  proper  arms. 
Whether  the  English  parliament  interfered 
to  enforce  the  covenant  or  not,  is  uncertain, 
though  shortly  after  it  was  positively  forbid- 
den. Leighton,  however,  both  took  it  him- 
self, and  enforced  it  upon  others  during  this 
period,  so  that  he  can  not  be  considered  as 
having  withdrawn  from  presbyterian  com- 
munion till  afterward,  as  indeed  there  was 
no  other  form  of  religion  professed  publicly, 
till  the  independents  gave  a  free  toleration  to 
all,  when  several  sects  sprung  up,  to  none  of 
which  could  he,  as  principal  of  the  univer- 
sity, have  joined  himself 

His  labors  in  this  office  were  abundant.  He 
delivered  a  theological  lecture  in  Latin  once 
a  week  to  the  students,  and  at  stated  inter- 
vals preached  to  them  in  the  college  church. 
These  prelections  attracted  crowds,  who  were 
charmed  with  the  elegance  of  his  style,  and 
the  animation  of  his  delivery.  He  did  not, 
however,  confine  his  attention  to  his  public 
duties  ;  in  his  private  conversation  with  the 
young  men,  he  labored  to  form  their  minds 
to  tiie  practice  of  virtue,  and  his  instructions 
were  happily  enforced  by  his  own  example; 
indeed,  in  public  or  [irivate,  religion  was  the 
vital  principle  of  his  soul,  the  element  in 
which  he  breathed. 

'  For  eight  years  Scotland  enjoyed  under  the 
commonweailh  a  degree  of  prosperity  and 
quiet,  such  as  that  country  had  scarcely  ever 
known;  and  Kirkton  and  other  contemporary 
writers  bear  testimony  to  its  being  a  time  in 
which  religion  flourished  more  than  almost 
at  any  period  upon  record  ;  and  so  widely 
diffused  had  been  the  benefits  of  commore 
education  in  the  lowlands,  particularly  the 
west  and  the  south,  that  there  was  hardly  a 
family  which  could  not  read,  and  which  had 
not  a  bible.  For  these  benefits  Scotland  was 
partly  indebted  to  the  establishment  of  paris.^^i 
schools  by  the  act  of  1633,  but  chiefly  to  th<j 


746 


APPENDIX. 


assiduity  of  tlie  parocliial  clergy,  wlio  had 
always  shown  the  deepest  interest  in  the  ed- 
ucation of  tlie  peasaiury.  Tlie  unwearied 
pains  they  took,  and  the  good  effects  which 
followed,  may  be  judged  of  from  the  carica- 
ture which  Bishop  Burnet  draws  of  a  faiili- 
ful  ministry  and  a  godly  people,  and  ma- 
king the  necessary  deductions  for  his  epis- 
copalian prejudices,  it  in  the  most  material 
points  contirms  the  perhaps  too  flattering 
picture  of  Kirkton  :  "  The  former  incum- 
bents," are  his  W(jrds,  "  were  a  grave,  solemn 
sort  of  pcojile  ;  their  spirits  were  eager,  and 
their  tempers  sour:  but  they  had  an  appear- 
ance that  created  respect.  They  were  rela- 
ted to  the  chief  families  in  the  country,  eiiher 
by  blood  or  marriage,  and  had  lived  in  so  de- 
cent a  manner  that  the  gentry  paid  great  re- 
spect to  them.  They  used  tovisittheirparishes 
much  and  were  so  full  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
60  ready  at  extemj)ore  prayer,  that  from  that 
time,  they  grew  to  practise  extemjiore  sermons; 
for  the  custom  in  Scotland  then  was,  after  din- 
ner or  supper,  to  read  a  chapter  in  the  Scrip- 
ture, and  where  they  happened  to  come,  if  it 
was  acceptable,  they  on  the  sudden  expound- 
ed the  cliapter.  They  had  brought  the  peo- 
ple to  such  a  degree  of  knowledge,  that  cot-  \ 
tagers  and  servants  would  have  prayed  extem- ! 
core.  I  have  often  overheard  them  at  it ;  and 
though  there  was  a  large  mixture  of  odd  stuff, 
yet  1  have  been  astonished  to  hear  how  copi-  j 
ous  and  ready  they  were  in  it.  Their  minis-  ' 
ters  generally  brought  them  about  them  on  the 
Sunday  nights,  when  the  sermons  were  talked 
over  :  and  every  one,  woman  as  well  as  man, 
was  desired  to  speak  their  sense  and  their  , 
experience,  and  by  these  means  they  had  a 
comprehension  of  matters  of  religion,  greater 
than  I  have  seen  among  people  of  that  sort 
anywhere."  "And  as  they  [the  ministers] 
lived  in  great  familiarity  with  their  people, 
and  used  to  pray  and  to  talk  oft  with  them  in 
private,  so  it  can  hardly  be  imagined  to  what 
a  degree  they  were  loved  and  reverenced  by 
them.  They  kept  scandalous  persons  under 
a  severe  discipline  ;  for  breach  of  sabbath, 
for  an  oath,  or  the  least  disorder  in  drunken- 
ness, persons  were  cited  before  the  churcii- 
sessions,  that  consisted  of  ten  or  twelve  of  the 
chief  of  the  parish,  who  with  the  minister  had  ' 
this  care  upon  them,  and  were  solemnly  re- 
proved for  it."  "These  things  had  a  grave 
appearance,  iheir  faults  and  defects  were  not,j 
so  conspicuous."  Leighton,  who  well  knew  i 
that  the  preservation  of  such  a  system  depend- 
ed, humanely  speaking,  upon  the  education  of  j 
the  ministers  themselves,  .and  the  providing 
suitable  teachers,  set  himself  to  promote  both  [ 
these  objects,  and  he  obtained  an  annuity  of] 
£200  from  the  protector  to  aid  his  beneficent 
plans,  but  the  death  of  that  great  man  caused  [ 
a  universal  stagnation  of  every  praiseworthy 
project,  and  the  restoration  threw  the  coun-  | 
try  half  a  century  back  in  the  progress  of  im- 
provement. 

During  the  vacations  he  frequently  made , 


excursions  to  London  and  to  the  Cont.nenl. 
In  his  visits  to  the  capital  he  was  an  oc  ,a- 
sional  attendant  at  Cromwell's  court,  of 
whosJ  clergymen  Burnet  makes  him  ^ve  a 
very  contemptuous  character:  "They  were 
men  of  unquiet  and  meddling  tempers:  and 
their  discourses  and  sermons  were  dry  and 
unsavory,  full  of  airy  cant,  or  of  bombasr 
swellings."  Had  the  bishop  been  kind 
enough  to  have  given  the  naines  of  these  wor- 
thies that  he  employs  the  venerated  shade 
of  Leighton  to  stigmatize,  it  might  have  been 
possible  to  judge  of  the  justice  of  the  chirge, 
at  least  to  discriminate,  for  never  did  Eng- 
land produce  a  body  of  abler  divines,  freei 
from  "  bombast  or  sv^'ellings" — unless  the 
overflowing  of  hearts  earnest  in  the  cause  of 
God  were  such — than  what  assembled  in  the 
court  and  enjoyed  the  countenance  of  the 
protector ;  but  as  a  general  charge  can  only 
be  met  by  a  general  answer,  I  would  refer 
those  who  wish  to  see  a  fuller  account  of 
some  of  these  traduced  ministers,  to  Orme's 
Life  of  Owen,  a  work  which  contains  a  great 
deal  of  not  common  information  respecting 
the  ecclesiastical  literature  of  "  the  secta- 
ries," among  whom  were  men  in  whose  so- 
ciety Leighton  would  have  met  neither  dis- 
gust nor  degradation. 

According  to  the  same  authority,  however, 
the  principal  found  himself  more  at  home 
among  the  Romanists  at  Douay,  and  derived 
much  advantage  during  his  frequent  visits  to 
that  college,  from  the  pious  lives  of  some  of 
these  religionists;  but  Leighton  himself  has 
declared  his  own  opinion  of  the  Roman 
catholic  system,  and  of  its  opposition  to 
Christianity  in  its  fundamental  articles,  dis- 
tinctly and  repeatedly.  Now,  if  a  system  be 
wrong  in  the  foundation,  what  does  it  signify 
how  fair  the  structure  !  if  a  man  build  on 
sand,  the  more  precious  the  materials  of  his 
house,  the  more  terrible  the  ruin  ;  and  if  the 
Roman  catholics  have,  as  Leighton  affirms, 
vide  remarks  on  1  Peter,  chap.  ii.  6,  despised 
that  stone  which  God  hath  made  the  head 
of  the  corner,  would  any  of  the  Lord's  peo- 
ple wish  to  take  a  pattern  from  their  mode 
of  moulding  for  polishing  other  living  stones 
of  their  temple !  The  Romish  system  is 
designated  in  Scripture,  Mystery,  Babylon, 
the  mother  of  abominations  ;  and  instead  of 
learning  from  her  children,  the  command  is, 
"  Come  out  from  among  them,  be  ye  separa- 
ted from  them  ;  come  out  of  her,  that  ye  be 
not  partakers  of  her  plagues." 

With  regard  to  monkish  seclusion,  to  which 
some  of  his  friends  allege  he  was  partial,  he 
thus  speaks:  "This  is,  among  many  others,  a 
misconceit  in  the  Romish  church,  that  they 
seem  to  make  holiness  a  kind  of  impropriate 
good,  that  thecommon  sort  can  havoliiileshare 
in  almost  all  piety,  being  shut  up  within  clois- 
ter walls  as  its  only  fit  dwelling.  Yet  it  liath 
not  liked  their  lodging  it  seems,  but  is  flown 
over  the  walls  away  from  them,  for  there  is 
little  of  it  even  there  to  be  found  ;  but,  bow- 


AIRMAN'S  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


747 


ever,  their  opinion  places  it  there  as  having 
little  to  do  abroad  in  the  world,  whereas  the 
truth  is,  that  all  Christians  have  this  for  their 
common  task,  though  some  are  under  more 
peculiar  obligations  [alluding  to  ministers]  to 
study  this  one  copy." — Remarks  on  I  Peter 
iii.  13. 

I  should  not  have  said  so  much  on  a  sub- 
ject in  which  our  author  is  so  explicit,  had 
n  not  been  that  some  of  his  former  biogra- 
phers seemed  anxious  to  exalt  the  papists  at 
the  expense  of  thepresbyteriansand  independ- 
f>nts,  by  representing  the  amiable  prelate  as 
deriving  so  much  advantage  from  his  inter- 
course with  them,  while  he  was  forced  al- 
most to  flee  the  world,  to  get  rid  of  the  con- 
tention and  bombast  of  the  others. 

At  this  time  in  Scotland,  as  at  all  times 
when  a  form  and  profession  of  religion  is 
fashionable,  a  number  of  formalists  and  hyp- 
ocrites mingled  in  the  crowd,  and  as  hollow 
vessels  sound  loudest,  they  were  generally 
the  most  noisy.  To  such  as  these  Leighton 
sems  to  allude  in  an  epistle,  supposed  to  have 
been  written  about  the  same  time.* 

During  the  troublous  period  of  the  civil 
war,  the  parties,  and  sects,  and  sections  of 
sects,  were  probably  not  so  numerous  as  in 
the  present  day,  but  they  were  more  violent, 
inasmuch  as  religion  then  was  more  the  oc- 
cupation of  a  rnan  than  it  is  now,  and  the 
public  attention  was  more  undividediy  di- 
rected toward  that  subject,  as  general  knowl- 
edge was  neither  widely  spread,  nor  much 
cultivated  by  the  conmiunily  at  large.  Good 
men,  however  of  ail  parties,  deplored  the 
spirit  of  strife  and  debate  which  in  too  many 
instances  w;is  allowed  to  corrode  the  vitals 
of  Christianity,  and  destroy  that  spirit  of 
love  without  which  the  purest  orthodoxy 
is  of  little  consequence  in  promoting  the  ' 
cause  of  Christ.  Among  these  Leighton  »ras 
conspicuous,  and  incessant  in  inculcating  the 
doctrine  of  peace  and  charity,  and  this  he  did 
by  directing  the  minds  of  his  hearers  to  the 
more  important  matters  of  the  law,  and  not 
by  indifference  to  any  fundamental  truth. 
The  manner  in  which  he  fulfilled  his  duty 
toward  his  pupils  while  principal  of  Edin- 
burgh university,  he  explains  in  a  beautiful 
valedictory  oration  which  he  delivered  to  the 
students  before  he  retired. t 

With  that  admirable  address,  Leighton  ap- 
pears to  have  closed  his  university  labors  ;  a 
new  scene  now  began  to  open  upon  him,  one 
for  which  he  suffered  much  in  his  reputation 
and  usefulness  amonghis contemporaries,  and 
which  his  admirers,  even  now,  lind  it  hard  to 
do  more  than  excuse — his  abandoning  the 
presbyterians,  and  accepting  a  bishopric  f  rom 
Charles  11.  Had  Leighton  merely  exchanged 
the  presbyterial  form  for  the  episcopalian,  his 
conduct  would  have  admitted  of  an  easy  jus- 
tification ;  his  earliest  sentiments  appear  to 
have  been  in  favor  of  a  modified  episcopacy, 
unconnected  with  temporal  power,  or  lordly 
•  Lif?,  page  38.  t  Works,  pages  72] ,  722. 


state  ;  and  the  power  of  a  preshytery,  when 
tyrannically  exerted,  he  considered  as  more 
oppressive  than  that  of  a  prelate — in  whi-ch 
opinion  he  entirely  coincided  with  Owen  ; 
besides,  he  considered  church-government  as 
a  matter  of  comparatively  little  moment, 
when  put  in  competition  with  personal  holi- 
ness, and  his  meek  soul  was  daily  harassed 
by  angry  controversialists  who  surrounded 
him,  of  many  o£  whom  he  thought  justly, 
that,  while  they  contended  fiercely  for  the 
form,  they  felt  little  of  the  power  of  religion. 
Changing,  therefore,  merely  from  the  one 
profession  to  the  other,  under  such  circum- 
stances, and  holding  such  opinions  upon  these 
matters,  would  have  been  comparatively,  if 
at  all,  a  venial  error.  But  to  join  hands  with 
such  a  set  of  men  as  those  with  whom  he  as- 
sociated, and  lend  the  sanction  of  his  name  to 
as  foul  a  usurpation  of  the  supreme  kingship 
of  Christ  in  his  church,  and  as  unblushing  an 
invasion  of  the  rights  of  Christian  people,  as 
ever  was  attempted,  since  the  day  when  tem- 
poral potentates  first  assumed  an  unholy  in- 
fluence within  her  pale,  was  a  proceeding 
which  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  account  for. 

Presbyterian  church-government,  and  civil 
liberty,  had  been  solemnly  sanctioned  by 
Charles  II.  at  his  coronation  at  Scoone,  and 
ratified  by  the  most  sacred  oaths,  and  most 
awful  engagements  known  among  men  ;  an 
immense  majority  of  the  nation  were  strongly 
attached  to  it  ;  and  he  had  promised,  in  a 
written  communication  to  the  ministers  at 
Edinbursh,  after  his  restoration,  to  preserve 
it.  But  the  profligate  advisers  by  whom  he 
was  surrounded,  had  determined  to  establish 
a  civil  despotism,  to  which,  from  early  edu- 
cation, and  his  residence  abroad,  he  was  migh- 
tily inclined  ;  and  the  constitution  of  the  Scot- 
tish church  being  esteemed  a  barrier,  it  was  re- 
solved that  it  should  be  swept  away  ;  besides, 
the  king,  and  several  of  the  leading  men,  had 
found  the  strictness  of  presbyterian  discipline, 
and  the  decent  morality  which  it  required, 
totally  inconsistent  with  the  licentiousness 
they  loved,  and  the  conduct  they  intended  to 
pursue. 

Sharpe,  who  should  have  defended,  allured 
by  the  primacy,  betrayed  his  church,  and  a 
crowd  of  sycophants,  who  hastened  to  Lon- 
don to  secure  their  private  interests,  were  ea- 
sily persuaded  to  join  in  the  false  representa- 
tion that  a  majority  in  Scotland  detested  the 
covenant,  and  desired  its  overthrow.  Epis- 
copacy, therefore,  was  resolved  upon,  and  the 
hated  fabric  of  prelacy,  which  had  been  so 
triumphantly  levelled,  was  once  more  to  be 
reared.  Sydserf,  the  old  bishop  of  Galloway, 
was  the  only  fragment  of  the  former  hierar- 
chy that  remained.  He  had  been  deposed  by 
the  assembly  1638,  for  erroneous  doctrine,  bu' 
was  now  nominated  to  the  bishopric  of  Ork- 
ney, a  much  better  living.  The  others  were 
named  chiefly  by  Sharpe,  and  promoted  on 
account  of  their  subserviency  to  the  cause, 
rather   'jan  from  any  fitness  for  the  ofIic& 


748 


AFjeEIsDIX. 


Wisehenrt,  formerly  chaplain  to  Montrose, 
and  accused  of  a  military  freedom  of  man- 
ners, had  Edinhursh,  and  Fairlbul,  a  person 
of  no  sjood  fame,  got  (^lasg•o\v  ;  nor  were  any 
of  the  rest  men  of  much  re])utation,  either  for 
learning  or  sanctity.  Leigliton  alone  formed 
one  exception,  and  Kirkton,  who  is  not  very 
willing  to  praise  \^hoever  accepted  the  pre- 
latic  dignity,  thus  notices  his  appointment  : 
"Mr.  Robert  Leighton,  th(;n  principal  of  Ed- 
inburgh college,  was  made  bishop  of  Dum- 
blane  ;  thus  he  choised  to  demonstrate  to  the 
world,  avarice  was  not  his  principle,  it  being 
the  smallest  revenue  ;  a  man  of  good  learning, 
excellent  utterance,  and  very  grave  abstract 
conversation,  but  almost  altogether  destitute 
of  a  doctrinal  principle,  being  almost  indiffer- 
ent, among  all  the  professions  that  are  called 
by  the  name  of  Christ."  We  are  indebted  to 
Burnet  for  an  account  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  bishopric  was  offered,  and  he  was  induced 
to  accept  of  the  nomination. 

His  brother  Elisha  had  devoted  himself  to 
the  court,  and  in  order  to  serve  his  ambitious 
purposes,  had  changed  his  religion  ;  in  this 
he  appears  to  have  succeeded,  for  he  becatne 
at  once  a  papist,  a  knight,  and  secretary  to 
the  duke  of  York  ;  he  was  a  person  of  con- 
siderable talents  and  vivaciiy,  loved  to  talk 
of  great  sublimities  in  religion — yei  very  im- 
moral. Living  in  terms  of  close  intimacy 
with  Lord  Aubigny,  a  brother  of  the  duke  of 
Richmond,  a  great  favorite  at  court,  who  had 
also  changed  his  religion,  and  though  a  priest, 
was  likewise  "  a  very  vicious  man,"  he 
brought  Mr.  Robert  Leighton  and  him  to- 
gether. Aubigny,  who  was  acquainted  with 
the  then  secret  of  the  king's  religion,  which 
was  popish,  and  with  his  design  to  establish 
it  if  possible,  was  induced  by  the  representa- 
tions of  Sir  Elisha,  and  by  the  iriild  manners 
of  Leighton  himself,  to  suppose  that  he  might 
be  rendered  subservient  to  the  scheme,  and 
mentioned  him  to  King  Charles,  who  had 
sufficient  penetration  to  perceive  that  the  ac- 
cession of  such  a  man  to  ihe  Scottish  prelacy 
would  be  of  immense  importance,  named 
him  himself  as  one  of  the  number.  Leighton 
was  exceedingly  averse  at  first  to  the  propo- 
sal, but  the  entreaties  of  royalty,  and  the  ur- 
gency of  his  brother,  who  expected  to  rise 
still  higher  through  his  means,  with  some 
faint  expectation  that  he  might  be  instrumen- 
tal in  moderating  or  heahng  the  differences 
of  the  truly  devout  of  the  two  persuasions, 
overcame  his  reluctance,  and  he  at  last  ac- 
cepted, yet  not  without  a  struggle,  as  the  let- 
ter, which  is  supposed  to  have  been  written 
while  he  was  deliberating,  evinces.  It  was 
addressed  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Aird.* 

If  this  letter  was  written  after  the  first  par- 
liament in  which  the  king's  supremacy  was 
established,  and  by  which  Argyle  and  Guth- 
rie were  condemned,  it  shows  how  much 
Leighton  had  abstracted  himself  from  ahe  oc- 
currences of  the  day,  and  how  little  ae  was 
•  Life,  page  16. 


acquainted  with  the  politico-theological  stats 
of  the  ccuntry,  ihat  he  should  entertain  evtr 
the  slightest  hope  of  advancing  the  interes* 
either  of  peace  or  religion,  by  accepting  a 
bishopric  in  Scotland,  and  connecting  him- 
self with  a  band  of  apostates,  who  had  so  ini- 
quitously  commenced  their  atrocic'is  career. 
His  whole  life  proved,  that  Leigliton  wai 
wholly  uninfluenced  by  sordid  or  secular  mo- 
tives ;  but  while  we  acknowledge  his  princi- 
ples to  be  pure,  and  his  personal  behavior  ex. 
emplary,  it  may  fairly  be  questioned  how  far 
in  this  instance  his  conduct  was  justifiable, 
in  holding  fellowship  with  those  who  framed 
mischief  by  a  law,  who  gathered  themselves 
together  against  the  soul  of  the  righteous, 
and  condemned  innocent  blood  ;  but  as  he 
foresaw,  it  proved  to  him  a  life  of  suffering, 
and  he  was,  after  years  of  mental  anguish, 
forced  to  withdraw  from  the  scene,  and  from 
all  participation  in  measures,  of  which  he  left 
a  strong  condemnatory  sentence  in  his  af- 
firmation to  Charles,  that  "  he  would  not  con- 
sent to  propagate  Christianity  itself  by  such 
means." 

The  following  letter  appears  to  have  been 
written  about  this  time  : — 

"  Dear  Friend :  I  did  receive  your  letter, 
which  I  would  have  known  to  be  yours, 
though  it  had  no  other  sign  but  the  piely  and 
afTectionate  kindness  expressed  in  it.  I  will 
offer  you  no  apology,  nor  I  hope  I  need  not, 
for  not  writing  since  that  to  you.  I  will  con  - 
fess, that  if  the  surprising  and  unexpected  oc- 
casion of  the  bearer  had  not  drawn  it  from 
me,  I  should  hardly  for  a  long  time  to  come, 
have  done  what  I  am  now  doing,  and  yet 
still  love  you  more  than  they  do  one  another 
that  interchange  letters  even  of  kindness,  as 
often  as  the  gazettes  come  forth,  and  as  long 
as  they  are  too.  And  now  I  have  begun,  I 
would  end  just  here:  for  I  have  nothing  to 
say,  nothing  of  aflfairs  to  be  sure,  private  nor 
public  ;  and  to  strike  up  to  discourses  of  devo- 
tion, alas  !  what  is  there  to  be  said,  but  what 
I  you  sufficiently  know,  and  daily  read,  and 
daily  think,  and,  I  am  confident,  daily  en- 
deavor to  do  ;  and  I  am  beaten  back,  if  I  had 
a  great  mind  to  speak  of  such  things,  by  the 
sense  of  so  great  deficiency  in  doing  these 
things,  that  the  most  ignorant  among  Chris- 
tians can  not  choose  but  know.  Instead  of 
all  fine  notions  to  fly  to  kvcu  i\criaov  x^'s"  tycrfav, 
I  think  them  the  great  heroes  and  excellent 
persons  of  the  world,  that  attain  to  high  de. 
grees  of  pure  contemplation  and  Divine  love 
but  next  to  these,  them  that,  in  aspiring  tij 
that,  and  falling  short  of  it,  fall  down  into 
deep  humiliation  and  self-contempt,  and  a 
real  desire  to  be  despised  and  trampled  on  by 
all  the  world.  And  I  believe  that  they  that 
sink  lowest  into  that  depth,  stand  nearest  to 
advancement  to  those  other  heights  :  for  the 
great  King  who  is  the  fountain  of  that  honor, 
hath  given  us  this  character  of  himself,  that 
he  resists  the  proud,  and  gives  grace  to  the 
humble.    Farewell,  my  dear  friead,  and  be 


AIRMAN'S  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


74? 


80  charitable  as  sometimes  in  your  addresses  which  once  effected,  it  would  be  sufficient 
UDward  lo  remember  a  poor  caiiiif  who  no  lime  to  proceed  to  regulate  other  matters, 
day  forgets  you.    R.  L.   13th  Dec,  1676."     ■  Fairfoul  had  always  "  a  merry  tale  ready  at 

Sydserf,  the  withered  twig  of  the  old  stem,  I  hand  to  divert  him"  whenever  the  subject 
not  being  sufficient  to  communicate  the  unde-  was  started,  so  that  he  found  it  impossible  to 
finable  sacredness  of  the  prelatic  character  to  hold  any  serious  conversation  with  him,  of 
a  new  generation,  four  of  the  bishops  elect  which  indeed  he  did  not  seem  capable.  "By 
were  summoned  to  the  English  capital,  to  re-  these  means,"  adds  Burnet,  "  Leighlon  quick- 
ceive  from  the  fathers  of  London  and  Worces-  ly  lost  all  heart  and  hope;  and  said  often 
ter  such  gifts  as  they  could  bestow  by  the  im-  to  me  upon  ii,  that  in  the  whole  progress  of 
position  of  their  "  holy"  hands.  Sharpe  and  that  affair,  there  appeared  such  gross  charac- 
Leishton  having  received  presbyierian  ordi-  lers  of  an  ang'y  providence,  that  how  fully 
nation,  they  hesitated  about  being  reoruained  soever  he  was  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  as  to 
but  as  it  was  determined  that  presbytery  episcopacy  itself,  yet  it  seemed  that  God  was 
should  be  destroyed  root  and  branch,  that  against  them,  and  that  they  were  not  like  to 
was  declared  invalid,  and  afier  some  short  be  the  men  that  should  build  up  his  church 
disputation,  they  submitted  to  receive  the  or-  so  that  the  struggling  ;ibout  it  seemed  to  hina 
ders  of  deacon  and  priest,  previously  to  their  like  a  fighting  against  God.  He  who  had  the 
consecration  as  bishops.  Hamilton  and  Fair-  greatest  hand  in  it,  Sharpe,  proceeded  with 
foul  had  previously  in  1638  received  the  or-  so  much  dissimulation,  and  the  rest  of  the 
ders  from  the  abrogated  Scottish  hierarchy,  order  were  so  mean  and  so  selfish,  and  the 
which  were  held  good.  To  this  act,  which  earl  of  IMiddleton,  with  the  other  secuHar  men 
desecrated  the  whole  of  the  Scottish  minis-  that  conducted  it,  were  so  impious  and  vi- 
lers,  even  had  they  been  inclined  to  conform,  cious,  that  it  did  cast  a  reproach  on  every- 
Leighton  is  said  to  have  reconciled  his  mind  thing  relating  to  religion,  to  see  it  managed 
by  an  evasion — that  the  new  ceremony  was  by  such  instruments."  About  the  middle  of 
only  declaratory  of  his  admission  into  a  Hew  next  year  they  set  out  for  Scotland,  hut  Leigh- 
communion,  but  did  not  destroy  the  sanctity  |  ton.  understanding  that  they  meant  to  make 
of  his  former  ordination  ;  a  distinction  which  '  a  grand  entry  into  Edinburgh,  left  them  at 
presby lerians  would  not  readily  be  brought  to  ]  iMorpeth,  and  proceeded  forward  alone  ;  the 
comprehend.  |  rest  were  received  by  the  magistrates  in  their 

Consecrated,  however,  they  all  were  at  i  robes,  with  sound  of  trumpet,  or,  as  was  sar- 
Westminster,  on  the  12th  December,  1661,  |  castically  remarked,  "  with  the  sound  of  the 
with  much  clerical  splendor,  and  a  series  of  '  cornet,  flute,  harp,  sackbut,  psaltery,  and  dul- 
feasting  between  the  nobles  and  the  bishops  1  cimer,  and  all  kinds  of  music,"  at  the  hearing 
followed,  which  grieved  Leighton's  pious  '  of  which,  the  people  were  to  fall  down,  and 
soul,  and  gave  plain  augury  of  what  kind  of  worship  the  prelates  whom  the  king  had 
church  they  were  about  to  establish.  It  is  made.  Leiahton  proceeded  directly  to  Dum- 
perfecily  clear  there  was  no  community  of  blane,  and  not  onlv  declined  sharing  in  these 
soul  between  them  ;  Sharpe  hated  and  op-  pageantries,  but  even  requested  that  his 
posed  him,  and  even  Sheldon  "  did  not  much  Iriends  would  not  give  him  the  title  of 
like  his  great  strictness,  in  which  he  had  no  ,  "  lord,"  a  retjuest  which,  however  consonant 
mind  lo  iinitaie  him,"  though  both  he  and  '  with  the  injunctions  of  his  heavenly  JMaster, 
the  rest  of  the  English  clergy  greatly  pre-  was  by  no  means  agreeable  to  his  earthly 
ferred  him  before  his  brethren,  whom  he  ex-  brethren. 

celled,  not  more  in  the  extent  of  his  learning.  Episcopacy  was  set  up  by  prociamalion, 
than  in  the  uprightr  >*s  of  his  walk  and  con-  the  meetings  of  synods  and  presbyteries  were 
versaiion.  His  triaL  oegan  almost  immedi-  forbid  by  the  same  authority,  bui  it  required 
ately.  an  act  of  j)arliatnent  to  restore  the  bishops  to 

When  the  revelry  had  ceased,  he  endeav-  their  jurisdiction  and  their  seats.  This  was 
ored  lo  prevail  upon  Sharpe  lo  settle  some  done  the  first  of  the  session  in  1662,  in  the 
plan  for  their  future  procedure,  and  proposed  i  most  ample  manner,  and  as  soon  as  it  was 
for  his  consideration — first,  his  favorite  proj- !  passed,  the  prelates  who  were  in  waiting, 
ect  of  attempting  to  bring  about  a  union  be-  were  invited  by  a  deputation  from  each  es- 
tween  the  presbyterians  and  them  :  next,  the  tale  to  resume  their  places  in  the  house 
best  means  for  promoting  the  growth  of  piety  ;  I  which  they  immediately  did  among  the  earls 
and  then  a  method  for  gradually  assimilating  i  on  the  right  hand  of  the  commissioner,  Leigh- 
the  mode  of  worship  among  the  two  persua-  ton  on  this  occasion  also  forming  the  only 
sions.  But  he  was  sorely  disappointed  to  solitarv  exception.  He  was  not,  however, 
find  that  the  primate  had  formed  no  plan,  and  long  suffered  lo  enjoy  his  retirement,  and  the 
was  unwilling  to  hear  of  any.  Heonlylooked  occasion  which  called  him  from  it  is  highly 
forward  to  coercive  measures  :  episcopacy  he  '  honorable  to  his  memory.  Several  minis- 
knew  would  be  established  in  the  next  par-  i  lers,  John  Carstairs,  James  Nasmylh,  James 
liament,  and  when  once  they  were  legally  '  Veitch,  and  some  others,  were  accused  of 
settled  in  their  dioceses,  then  he  said  every  using  seditious  language  in  their  sermons, 
bishop  must  do  the  best  he  could  to  get  the  but  the  accusations  could  not  be  substantia- 
people  and  clergy  to  submit  to  his  authority  ;   ted  :  as  was  the  custom,  however,  in  these 


750 


APPENDIX. 


times,  if  a  chars^e  was  brought  a2:ainst  a 
liri'sbyteiian,  and  could  noi  be  proved,  in- 
stead of  being  set  free,  the  oalh'of  alleijiance, 
in  wliich  llie  king's  Mipreinacy  in  all  atfairs 
"ivil  and  ecclesiastical  was  asserted,  was  of-  ■ 
fered  iheiu,  and  they  were  required  to  take  it  I 
as  a  mark  of  loyalty.  In  this  case  the  minis- 
ters were  brought  before  parliament,  and  had 
the  oath  tendered.  They  re(iuired  lime  to 
consider  it,  and  after  some  days'  serious  de- 
liberation, gave  in  an  explanation,  in  which 
they  declared,  "  they  believed  the  king  was 
BUpreme  governor  over  all  persons,  and  in -all 
causes,  not  only  civil  but  ecclesiastic  ;  but 
that  the  power  of  the  king  is,  in  its  own  na- 
ture, only  civil  and  extrinsic  as  to  causes  ec- 
cle^iastical."  This  explanation  the  commis- 
sion refused,  upon  which  a  debate  arose, 
whether  an  act  explanatory  of  the  oath 
should  be  offered  to  parliament  or  not ;  Leigh- 
ton  strongly  urijed  the  propriety  of  its  being 
done  :  the  land,  he  said,  mourned  by  reason 
of  the  multiplicity  of  oaths,  and  the  words  of  ' 
the  present  were  ceriainly  susceptible  of  a  [ 
bad  sense:  the  papists  in  Englaiv'  had  been 
alliiwed  this  privilege  of  explaining,  and  he 
thought  a  like  tenderness  should  be  shown  to 
protestants,  especially  in  a  case  where  their 
scruples  appeared  to  be  just,  otherwise  it 
would  look  like  laying  snares  for  the  people, 
by  making  men  offentiers  for  a  word.  Sharpe  ; 
■  replied  with  great  bitterness  :  he  said  that  it  ! 
was  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  government  to 
frame  acts  to  satisfy  the  scruples  of  peevish  i 
men,  and  it  ill  became  them  who  had  forced 
their  covenant  on  all  ranks,  without  distinc- 
tion or  explanation,  to  come  forward  now, 
and  ask  such  a  license  for  theiliselves." —  { 
"  For  that  very  reason,"  retorted  Leighton,  [ 
"  it  ought  to  be  granted,  that  the  world  may 
perceive  the  difference  between  the  present 
mild  government,  and  their  severity  ;  nor 
does  it  became  persons  who  complain  of  that 
rigor,  to  resort  to  similar  harshness,  lest  thus 
it  might  be  said,  the  world  goes  mad  by 
turns."  But  his  arguments  were  of  no  avail  ; 
the  ministers  were  required  to  take  the  oath 
or  undergo  the  penalty,  imprisonment  or  ex- 
ile ;  they  refused  to  subscribe,  and  preferred 
to  suffer:  and  Leighton  had  only  the  conso- 
lation of  having  attempted  in  vain  to  avert 
thi  ir  oppression. 

For  several  years  we  do  not  meei  with  the 
bishop's  name  in  any  of' the  political  transac- 
tions of  the  times,  hut  we  lind  from  his 
charges  to  his  clergy,  and  some  few  letters 
which  have  been  preserved,  that  he  was  far 
more  honorably  employed,  in  fulfillinfr  the 
s;)iritual  duties  of  his  office.  Of  the  ditficul- 
ties  with  which  ho  had  to  contend,  some  idea 
may  be  formed,  from  the  character  of  the 
clergy  over  whom  he  was  called  to  preside  ; 
this  we  are  enabled  to  give  from  an  episco- 
palian writer,  and  therefore  the  less  liable  to 
objection.  At  the  close  of  the  year  1662, 
about  two  hundred  faithful  ministers  of  Christ, 
rather  than  violate  their  consciences,  gave  up  j 


their  livings  in  the  west  of  Scotlano  ,  and  o". 
these  a  immber  belonged  to  the  diocese  oi 
Dumblane,  of  which  an  im|)orfect  list  is  giveu 
in  Wodrow's  Ajipendix.  To  fill  their  places, 
Burnet  says,  "  there  was  a  sort  of  an  invita- 
tion sent  over  the  kingdom,  like  a  hue  and 
cry,  to  all  persons,  to  accept  of  beneCces  in 
the  west:  the  livings  were  generall/  well 
endowed,  and  the  parsonage-houses  were 
well  built  and  in  good  repair,  anu  this  drew 
many  very  worthless  persons  thither,  who 
had  little  learning,  less  piety,  and  no  sort  of 
discretion."  "They  were  the  worst  preach- 
ers I  ever  heard,  they  were  ignorant  to  a  re- 
proach, and  many  of  them  were  openly  vi- 
cious, they  were  a  disgrace  to  their  order 
and  the  sacred  function,  and  were  indeed  the 
dregs  and  refuse  of  their  northern  parts. 
Those  of  them  who  arose  above  contempt  or 
scandal,  were  men  of  such  violent  tempers, 
that  they  were  as  much  hated  as  the  others 
were  despised.  This  was  the  fatal  beginning 
of  restoring  episcopacy  in  Scotland,  of  which 
few  of  the  bishops  seemed  to  have  any 
sense."  Only  two  non-conformists'  names 
appear  in  the  roll  of  the  presbytery  of  Dum- 
blane, which  formed  that  part  of  the  diocese 
more  immediately  under  the  bishop's  eye: 
whether  this  was  owing  to  the  influence  and 
persuasion  of  Leighton,  or  whether  the  list 
be  incomplete,  it  is  impossible  now  to  deter- 
mine: but  I  should  be  rather  apt  to  suppose 
the  latter,  as  Wodrow  affirms,  that  the  clergy 
of  the  diocese  formed  no  exception  to  the 
general  character  of  these  west  country 
brethren. 

No  blame,  however,  can  attach  to  Leigh- 
ton for  this  :  he  has  left  us  his  recorded  opin- 
ion of  the  ma.mer  in  which  he  thought  a 
people  should  be  treated.,  with  regard  to  spir- 
itual teachers,  in  a  letter  he  wrote  to  the 
heritors  of  Siraiton,  and  which  it  would  be 
well  did  the  present  patrons  of  presbyieriaa 
churches  imitate.* 

The  person  here  recommended  was  Mr. 
James  Aird,  who  had  been  a  minister  at  In- 
gram in  Northumberland,  and  was  then  re- 
siding in  Edinburgh ;  he  was  afterward 
minister  at  Torrey,  so  that  it  would  appear 
the  heritors  at  Straiten  had  not  taken  thk 
bishop's  advice.  The  following  letter  to  the 
same  gentleman,  was  probably  written  upon 
this  occasion  :  it  is  without  date.  "  Dear 
Friend  :  I  trust  you  enjoy  that  same  calm  of 
mind  touching  your  present  concernment,  that 
T  do  in  your  behalf  I  dare  not  promise  to 
see  you  at  Edinburgh  at  this  time,  but  it  is 
possible  I  mav.  I  know  you  will  endeavor 
to  set  yourself  on  as  strong  a  guard  as  you 
can,  against  the  assaults  you  may  meet  with 
there  from  diverse  well-meaning  persons,  but 
of  weak  understandings  and  strong  passions, 
and  will  maintain  the  liberty  of  your  own 
mind,  both  firmly  and  meekly.  Our  business 
is  the  study  of  sincerity  and  pure  intention, 
and  then,  certainly  our  blessed  guide  will  not 
•  Life,  page  20. 


AIKMAyS  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


751 


suffer  us  to  lose  our  way  for  want  of  light  ; 
we  have  his  promise,  that  if  in  all  our  ways 
we  acknowledge  him,  he  will  direct  our 
paths.  While  we  are  consulting  about  the 
turns  and  new  moiions  of  life,  it  is  sliding 
away,  but  if  our  great  work  in  it  be  going  on, 
ail  is  well.  Pray  for  your  poor  friend,  R.  L. 
Dumblane,  Jan.  iSih."' 

We  have,  in  a  beautiful  epistle — without 
date  or  address — his  views  of  the  temper  and 
disposition  he  thought  those  should  cultivate, 
whom  he  wished  to  introduce  into  the  minis- 
try.* 

Part  of  the  diocese  in  Dumblane  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Highlands,  was  at  this  period 
among  the  ruder  portions  of  Scotland,  and 
from  the  state  of  restlessness  and  contention 
in  which  they  were  kept  up  by  their  neigh- 
bors, labored  under  the  demoralizing  influ- 
ence of  border  customs ;  the  bishop  there- 
fore, in  his  charge,  September,  1G62,  expres- 
ses his  anxious  desire,  that  "all  diligence  be 
used  for  the  repressing  of  profaneness,  and 
for  the  advancement  of  solid  pietv,  and  that 
not  only  scandals  of  unchastity,  btit  drunken- 
ness, swearing,  cursing,  filthy  speaking,  and 
mocking  of  religion,  and  all  other  gross  offen- 
ces be  brought  under  church-censure,  and 
that  scandalous  offenders  should  not  be  ab- 
solved, till  there  appeared  in  them  probable 
signs  of  true  repentance."  Although  he  does 
not  mention  the  discipline  of  llie  presbyteri- 
aus,  he  urges  upon  his  clersy  the  exercise  of 
the  most  commendable  parts  of  their  practice 
—catechising,  visiting,  and  frequent  expound- 
ing of  the  Scriptures.  At  the  Reformation, 
and  before  the  commonalty  could  read  for 
themselves,  there  were  piit)lic  readers  ap- 
pointed in  the  church,  and  the  hour  between 
the  second  and  third  ringing  of  the  kirk  bell 
on  the  Sabbath,  was  usually  employed  in 
reading  portions  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
menis  to  the  people  ;  this  practice,  which  had 
fallen  inf.^  disuse  as  education  became  more 
diffused,  Leighton  wished  to  revive,  and 
urged  upon  his  curates  the  advantage  of  ma- 
king their  people  well  acquainted  with  the 
pure  word  of  God,  by  carefully  reverting  to 
this  good  old  custom.  He  also  strongly  "rec- 
ommended their  taking  large  portions  of 
Scripture,  and  lectur«ig  from  them,  rather 
than  raising  a  theme  from  a  single  text,  for 
ne  thouirht  a  number  of  short  practical  ob- 
•ervations  from  a  series  of  verses,  preferable 
to  a  long  dissertation  from  one. 

He  wished  likewise  to  establish  daily  pub- 
lic prayer,  and  reading  the  Scriptures  morning 
and  evening  in  churches,  in  as  far  as  these 
did  not  inierfere  with  the  private  or  family  I 
worship  of  the  people  ;  which  duties  he  was 
extremely  anxious  to  promote:  as  he  was  | 
also  of  a  more  frequent  celebration  of  the 
Lord's  supper  ;  but,  above  all,  he  propounded 
to  the  brethren,  that  it  was  to  be  reminded 
by  himself  and  them,  both  to  how  eminent 
degrees  of  purity  of  heart  and  life  their  holy 
•  Life,  page  20  i 


calling  did  engage  them,  ais]  to  hew  great 
contempt  of  this  present  world,  and  inflamed 
affections  toward  heaven,  springing  from 
deep  persuasions  within  them  of  those  things 
they  preached  toothers  ;  and  thai  they  should 
be  meek  and  gentle,  and  lovers  and  exhorters 
of  peace  private  and  public,  among  all 
ranks  of  men  ;  endeavoring  rather  to  quench 
than  to  increase,  the  useless  debates  and 
contentions  that  abounded  in  the  world,  and 
be  always  more  studious  of  pacific,  than  po- 
lemic divinity. 

While  this  excellent  prelate  was  assidu- 
ously, but  calmly,  endeavoring  to  alleviate 
the  evils  hy^  which  he  was  environed,  the 
furious  and  insane  council,  dogged  by  the 
unprmcipled  crew  of  bishops  and  curates, 
who  were  determined  to  force  upon  the  na- 
tion a  hierarchy  they  universally  detested, 
proceeded  with  the  most  cruel  and  inconsid- 
erate rashness,  to  desolate  the  church  and  the 
country  by  measures  to  which  no  conscien- 
tious and  enlightened  people  could  ever  sub- 
mit. Oaths  opposed  to  every  principle  which 
had  been  recognised  as  sacred  for  nearly 
thirty  years  in  Scotland,  were  proposed  to 
men  who  feared  an  oath,  and  those  who  sin- 
cerely believed  in  the  divine  institution  of 
presbytery,  were  required  to  renounce  ft, 
merely  because  their  rulers  deemed  it  expe- 
dient that  they  should  do  so,  and  to  join  a 
church  whose  form  they  considered  unscrip- 
tural ;  and  whose  clergy  they  viewed,  and  if 
Burnet's  description  be  true,  just.y  viewed,  as 
children  of  the  devil. 

Had  the  people  been  like  their  priests  or 
their  rulers,  indifferent  at  once  to  the  reality 
and  the  form  of  religion,  whatever  guilt 
flight  have  attached  to  compliance,  there 
would  have  been  little  hardship:  but  edu- 
cated as  they  had  been,  and  well  informed 
and  well  grounded  as  \hey  were  in  their 
principles,  numbers  chose  rather  to  suffer 
than  to  sin,  and  counted  not  their  lives  dear 
unto  the  death,  that  they  might  hold  fast 
their  inteirrity;  the  consequence  was,  that 
the  land,  like  the  prophet's  scroll,  from  one 
end  to  the  other,  was  lamentation,  and  mourn- 
ing, and  wo.  Leighton,  placed  in  the  most 
trying  of  all  possible  situations,  wept  over 
what  he  could  not  prevent ;  and,  after  a  sick- 
ening struggle  of  about  three  years,  resolved 
to  withdraw  from  a  situation  as  painful  as  it 
was  unprofitable.  In  October,  1665,  after  the 
business  was  over,  he  communicated  his  in- 
tention to  the  synod.  In  a  short  address,  he 
told  them  thai  all  the  account  he  could  give 
of  the  reasons  moving  him  to  it,  was  briefly 
ihe  sense  he  had  of  his  own  unworthiness  of 
so  high  a  station  in  the  church,  and  his  wea- 
riness of  their  contentions,  which  seemed 
rather  to  be  growing  than  abating  ;  and  by 
their  growth,  to  make  so  great  abatements 
of  that  Cliristian  meekness  and  mutual  char- 
ity, that  is  so  much  more  worth  than  the 
whole  sum  of  all  they  contended  about.  He 
theu  thanked  the  brethren  foi  all  their  unde- 


758 


APPENDIX. 


served  respect  and  kindness  manifested  to 
himself,  and  desired  their  good  construction 
of  the  poor  endeavors  he  had  used,  to  serve 
and  to  assist  them  in  prornotinff  the  work  of 
liie  ministry,  and  the  great  designs  of  the 
gospel  ill  their  hounds  :  and  if  in  anything,  in 
word  or  deed,  he  had  otlended  them,  or  any 
of  them,  he  very  earnestly  and  humhiy 
craved  their  pardon ;  and  having  recom- 
mended thtm  to  continue  in  the  study  of 
peace  and  holiness,  and  of  ardent  love  to  our 
great  Lord  and  master,  and  to  the  snuls  he 
hath  so  dearly  bought,  he  closed  with  these 
words  of  the  aposde  :  "Finally,  brethren, 
farewell ;  be  i)erfect,  be  of  goo(J  comfort,  be 
of  one  mind,  and  live  in  peace,  and  the  God 
of  peace  and  love  shall  be  with  you." 

He  was  however  prevailed  upon,  first  to 
proceed  to  court,  to  give  a  faithful  rcjiresen- 
ta'.ion  ol  the  miseries  of  the  country,  which 
he  the  more  willingly  did,  as  it  was  then  sup- 
posed that  the  king's  easy,  careless  good  na- 
ture, imposed  ui)on  by  Sharpe,  would,  when 
undeceived,  sympathize  with  the  sufferers, 
aiid  consent  to  more  moderate  methods.  But 
Charles  was  an  accomplished  profligate,  and 
one  of  the  most  selfish  of  mortals:  his  own 
enjoyment  was  the  sole  end  of  his  existence, 
to  that  he  sacrificed  honor,  veracity,  and 
iriendship,  and  everything  that  an  honest 
man  would  have  held  estimable ;  he  had 
however  a  plausibility  of  manner,  that  im- 
posed on  the  guileless  or  superficial  observer. 
Leighion  was  imposed  upon.  When  intro- 
duced to  the  king,  he  told  him  freely  that  the 
proceedings  in  Scotland  were  so  violent,  that 
he  would  not  concur  in  planting  the  Christian 
religion  itself  in  such  a  manner,  much  less  a 
form  of  church  government;  and  he  thert^ 
fore  begged  leave  to  quit  his  bishopric,  and 
retire,  for  while  he  retained  it,  he  thousht  he 
was  in  some  manner  accessory  to  the  violence 
of  the  ecclesiastics  with  whom  he  was  asso- 
ciated ;  as  it  was  given  out  that  all  these 
outrages  were  intended  to  establish  their  or- 
der. The  king  seemed  touched  with  the 
statements  when  he  heard  them,  and  prom- 
ised that  more  lenient  measures  should  be 
pursued  ;  laid  the  blame  chiefly  on  Sharpe, 
and  insisted  upon  the  bishop  s  resuming  his 
labors.  According  to  Burnet,  the  consequence 
of  these  representations  was  an  order  from 
Charles  to  discontinue  the  ecclesiastical  com- 
mission, and  perhaps  the  king  might  claim 
some  little  merit  with  Leighion  for  this,  but 
the  Scottish  historians  assert,  that  that  court 
had  already  become  contemptible  with  all 
ranks  and  parties ;  and,  no  longer  able  to 
carry  its  own  oppressive  decrees  into  execu- 
tion, was,  if  not  defunct,  at  least  on  the  point 
of  expiring. 

Leighton  however  returned  with  renewed 
expectations,  but  it  was  only  to  meet  with 
renewed  disappointment.  Sharpe  at  the 
head  of  the  council  managed  all  as  he  chose 
--persecution  continued  to  increase — and  re- 
ligious men  were  confined,  imprisoned,  and 


j  banished,  oecause  they  wouk  not  consent  to 
attend  tne  ministrati.ms  of  those  curates 
I  whose  cliaracicr  \vt  have  quoted  above  from 
an  eyeiviiness,  and  an  episcopalian.  Leigh- 
ton  could  only  sigh,  like  the  prophet,  "Oh 
that  I  had  in  the  wilderness  a  lodging-place 
of  wayfaring  men,  that  I  might  leave  my 
people,  and  go  from  them!"  His  letters  in 
general  want  dates,  and  of  course  can  not  be 
accurately  arranged,  but  a  fragment  quoted 
by  Jerment  may  not  improperly  be  placed 
about  this  time  :  "  Thorns  grow  everywhere, 
and  from  all  things  below,  but  to  a  soul  trans- 
planted out  of  Itself  into  the  root  of  Jesse, 
peace  grows  everywhere  too,  from  him  who 
is  called  our  peace,  and  whom  we  still  find 
the  more  to  be  so,  the  more  entirely  we  live 
in  him,  being  dead  to  this  world  and  self,  and 
all  things  beside  him.  O  when  shall  it  be! 
Well  I  Let  all  the  world  go  as  it  will,  let 
this  be  our  only  pursuit  and  ambition,  and  to 
all  other  things.  Fiat  voluntas  tua,  Domine, 
I  '  Lord,  thy  will  be  done  !'  " 
'  In  the  political  arrani;ements  respecting 
the  church,  he  had  never  taken  much  part, 
but  in  the  meetings  of  his  synod  he  appears 
to  have  been  more  interested,  though,  from  a 
wish  not  to  appear  haughty  or  domineering, 
he  had  suffered  irregularities  to  pass  unno- 
ticed, which  it  would  liave  required  a  strong- 
er hand  to  repress.  "  I  confess,"  says  he,  in 
his  address  to  them,  April,  1667,  "I  confess 
that  my  own  inactive  and  unmeddling  temper 
may  be  too  apt  to  prevail  against  the  known 
duty  of  my  siation,  and  may  incline  me  rather 
to  inquire  too  little  than  too  much  into  the 
deportment  of  others;  and  rather  to  be  defi- 
cient, than  to  exceed  in  admonitions  and  ad- 
vices to  my  brethren  in  matters  of  their  duty  ; 
and  besides  this  natural  aversion,  the  sense 
of  my  own  great  unworthiness  and  filthiness 
may  give  me  check,  and  be  a  very  strong 
curb  upon  me,  in  censuring  others  for  what 
may  be  amiss,  or  in  offering  any  rules  for  the 
redress  of  it.  And  there  is  yet  another  con- 
sideration that  bends  still  further  that  way, 
I  for  1  am  so  desirous  to  keep  far  off  from  the 
reach  of  that  prejudice  that  abounds  in  thes? 
pans  against  the  very  name  of  my  sacred 
[function,  as  apt  to  command  and  domineer 
too  much,  that  I  may  possibly  err  on  the 
other  hand,  and  scarce  perform  the  duty  of 
the  lowest  and  most  moderate  kind  of  mode- 
rator, so  that  1  am  forced  to  spur  and  drive 
myself  against  all  these  retardments,  to  sug- 
gest anything,  how  useful  soever,  beyond  oui 
road  or  accustomed  way,  especially  finding 
how  little  anything  of  thai  kind  takes  and 
prevails  to  any  real  effect." 

This  humble  and  mild  introduction  was 
prefixed  to  a  charge  intended  to  remind  them 
of  their  inattention  to  former  instructions 
and  admonitions,  and  to  recommend  particu- 
larlv  the  "privy  trials"  of  ministers  in  their 
presbyteries:  these  were  examinations  by 
the  presbytery  into  the  doctrine  their  mem- 
bers preached,  the  manner  in  which  they  ful 


AJKMAN'S  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


753 


filled  the  (luyes  of  their  office,  and  iheir  moral  j 
and  Christian  conduct  as  ministers  of  the  §os-  ' 
pel ;  in  which  he  said  he  liad  perceived  in 
some  places  very  much  of  superficial  and 
empty  form.  He  therefore  proposed  a  series  ! 
of  queries  lor  their  consideration,  which  he 
thought  might  be  useful :  "  For  though,"  he  i 
remarks,  "  we  can  have  nothing  but  every 
man's  own  word  concerning  himself,  yet  this 
does  not  render  it  a  useless  thing,  for  besides 
that  divers  of  the  questions  will  be  of  things 
so  obvious  to  public  knowledge,  that  no  man 
will  readily  adventure  to  give  an  untrue  an- 
swer where  it  may  be  so  easily  traced,  there 
is  much  to  be  given  to  the  presumed  ingenuity 
and  veracity  of  a  minister,  especially  in  what 
is  solemnly  and  punctually  inquired  of  him— 
and  whatsoever  formerly  hath  been  or  hath 
not  been,  his  former  degree  of  diligence  in 
the  particulars,  the  very  inquiry  and  asking 
concerning  them  will  be  apt  to  awake  in 
every  man  a  more  serious  reflection  upon 
himself  touching  each  point." 

These  questions  were — whether  he  were 
assiduous  in  plain  and  profitable  preaching? 
diligent  in  catechising?  frequent  in  celebra- 
ting the  communion  ?  faithful  in  the  exercise 
of  discipline?  attentive  in  visiting  his  flock  ? 
careful  of  the  relief  of  the  poor?  and  plain 
and  free  in  admonishing  open  transgressors  ? 
Then,  as  the  personal  conduct  of  Uie  clergy- 
man was  what  could  alone  give  weight  and 
efficacy  to  his  reproofs  and  instructions,  more 
pointed  queries  followed  :  whether  he  watch- 
ed exactly  over  his  own  conversation,  noti 
only  giving  no  oft'ence,  but  being  an  example 
to  his  flock,  and  preachinsr  by  his  living? 
whether  it  be  the  great  pleasure  of  his  life  to 
fulfil  the  work  of  his  ministry?  if  he  does 
not  only  avoid  gross  offences,  intolerable  in  a 
guide  of  souls,  but  studies  daily  to  mortify 
pride,  rash  anger,  vain  elory,  covetousness, 
and  love  of  this  world,  and  sensual  pleasures, 
&c.,  and  finally,  whether  he  be  at  peace  with 
his  brethren,  and  be  an  ardent  lover  and  pro- 
moter of  it  among  the  pecjple  ? 

From  his  pasioral  charges  it  will  be  per- 
ceived that  Leighton  prized  highly  some  of 
the  characteristic  features  of  presbytery,  and 
it  redounds  greatly  to  his  honor,  that  he  not 
only  did  not  persecute  the  profession  he  had 
forsaken,  or  behave  harshly  toward  his  for- 
mer fellow-laborers,  but  he  retained  as  mui^h 
of  the  form  as  he  leerally  could,  and  as  much 
of  the  practice  as  was  attainable,  while  he 
treated  the  "ouied"  ministers  as  his  breth- 
ren. He  thought,  however,  that  the  mode  of 
conducting  public  worship  admitted  of  im- 
provement, especially  with  regard  to  reading 
the  scriptures  wlien  the  congregation  was 
assembled,  these  he  recommended  to  be  read 
in  larger  portions,  and 'also  that  the  Lord's 
prayer,  the  ten  commandments,  and  the 
creed,  should  be  more  frequenily  repeated  ;  a 
practice  for  which  he  had  the  authoritv  of 
the  earlier  reformers.  How  far  Dumblane 
profited  by  his  unwearied  exertions  and  pious 


example,  ic  is  impossible  to  say  ;  but  as  he  is 
still  held  in  grateful  remembrance  in  that 
quarter,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  his 
labors  were  not  altogether  in  vain. 

Among  his  fellow  prelates  his  conduct  had 
only  the  effect  of  deepening  the  shade  of 
their  turpitude  by  the  purity  of  its  lustre. 
"  I  observed,"  says  Burnet,  "the  deportment 
of  our  bishops  was  in  all  points  so  different 
from  what  became  their  function,  '.hat  I  had 
a  more  than  ordinary  zeal  kindled  within  me 
upon  it.  They  were  not  only  furious  against 
all  that  stood  out  against  them,  but  were  very 
remiss  in  all  the  parts  of  their  function.  Some 
did  not  live  within  their  dioceses,  and  those 
who  did,  seemed  to  take  no  care  of  them 
They  showed  no  zeal  against  vice ;  the  most 
eminently  wicked  in  the  country  were  their 
particular  confidants,  they  took  no  pains  to 
keep  their  clergy  strictly  :n  rules  and  to  their 
duty  ;  on  the  contrary,  there  was  a  leviiy  and 
a  carnal  way  of  living  about  them,  that  very 
much  scandalized  me."  And  he  tells  us, 
that  in  a  memorial  which  h^  wrote  upon  this 
occasion,  he  showed  how  they  had  departed 
from  the  primitive  church,  by  neglecting 
their  dioceses,  meddling  so  much  in  secular 
affairs,  raising  their  families  out  of  the  reve- 
nues of  the  church,  and  above  all,  by  their 
violent  persecuting  of  those  who  differed 
from  them.  While  Leighton  was  pursuing 
his  peaceful  and  holy  avocations,  the  ])rimate 
was  revelling  in  the  blood  of  the  unfortunate 
covenanters,  whom  oppression  had  driven  tu 
resistance,  and  who  had  been  scattered  at 
Pentlaiid,  and  the  whole  west  and  south  were 
filled  with  prelatic  vengeance,  and  legal  and 
military  executions. 

Political  events,  1667,  which  for  a  short 
time  terrified  Charles  from  his  despotic  pro- 
jects, transferred  the  management  of  Scottish 
affairs  into  the  hands  of  Lord  Tweedale, 
who,  together  wiih  Lauderdale,  by  whom  he 
was  supported,  was  disgusted  with  the  vio- 
lence of  Sharpe  and  his  associates,  and  wished 
to  restore  his  suffering  country  to  some  kind 
of  tranquillity.  Ecclesiastical  grievances  be- 
ing the  chief  source  of  all  the  distractions, 
he  entered  into  a  close  communication  with 
the  bishop  of  Dumblane,  who  was  again  pre- 
vailed upon  to  go  to  London,  where  he  had 
two  audiences  of  the  king  ;  in  these,  he  rep- 
resented with  honest  freedom  the  madness  of 
the  former  administration  of  church  aflairs, 
and  the  neccf-sity  of  more  moderate  councils  ; 
Charles  listened,  and  promised,  and  did 
nothing.  Leighton  returned  to  his  charge, 
where  lie  remained,  till  in  1G69  he  was  again 
called  upon  by  Tweedale  to  make  a  new  ef- 
fort for  restoring  peace  to  the  cliurch.  Ever 
anxious  to  promote  this  object,  the  dearest  to 
his  heart,  he  hastened  to  lend  what  assistance 
he  c(juld.  He  proposed  that  a  treaty  of  ac- 
commodation should  be  attempied  with  the 
presbyterians,  for  the  purpose  of  setting  the 
differences  completely  at  rest,  by  eacli  party 
yielding  somewhat  of  their  alleg<"d  rights  and 


754 


APPENDIX. 


niuliKil  Jemands.  His  plan  was  soniewliat 
Biinilar  o  that  species  of  episcojiacy  uiuler 
whicii  he  liail  been  trained,  and  on  wliicli 
he  acted  in  liis  own  diocese;  he  proposed 
that  tlie  chnrch  courts  should  be  retained, 
and  that  the  bisliops  and  ministers  should  act 
together  ii  them,  the  bisliops  bein<^  ex-oHicio 
perpetual  presidents,  or  moderators — that  ihe 
Presbyterians  should  be  allowed,  when  tiiey 
first  sat  down  in  these  judicatories,  to  de- 
clare, that  their  sitting  under  a  bishop  was 
submitted  to  by  them  only  for  peace'  sake, 
with  a  reservation  of  their  opinion  with  rela- 
t.jQ  to  any  such  presidency — and  that  no 
neo^ative  vote  should  be  claimed  by  the  bish- 
op:  that  bishops  should  go  to  the  churches, 
in  which  such  as  were  to  be  ordained  were 
to  serve,  and  hear  and  discuss  any  exceptions 
thiit  were  made  to  them,  and  ordain  them 
with  tlie  concurrence  of  the  presbytery:  that 
such  as  were  to  be  ordained,  should  have 
le.ive  to  declare  their  opinion,  if  they  thought 
the  bishop  was  only  the  head  of  the  presby- 
ters. And  he  also  proposed,  that  there  should 
be  provincial  synods  to  sit  every  third  vear, 
or  oftener  if  the  king  should  summon  tiiern, 
in  which  complaints  of  the  bishops  should  be 
received,  and  they  censured  if  deserving. 
Burnet's  expression  is  amusing,  "and  they 
should  be  censured  accordingly,"  implying 
perhaps  unintentionally,  what  was  really  the 
fact,  that  if  their  conduct  were  ever  brought 
before  a  church,  censure  must  be  the  inevita- 
ble consequence.  The  same  writer  alleffes, 
that  Leighton,  in  making  these  concessions, 
acted  upon  the  same  policy  that  James  VI. 
did,  only  let  the  bishojis,  however  looselv, 
be  peaceably  acknowledged,  and  they  will 
gradually  and  eventually  acquire  a  complete 
power  in  the  church.  This,  for  the  sake  of 
Leighton's  character,  I  am  willing  to  believe 
a  misconception  of  his  views.  It  is  not  im- 
probable that  the  statesmen  with  whom  he 
associated  might  have  used  such  arguments 
to  influence  the  episcopalians  to  complv 
with  ])ropositions  which  went  to  reduce  their 
antichristian  domination,  but  that  Leiizhton 
ever  held  out  any  such  inducements,  is  not 
at  all  likely,  especially  as  in  the  above  propo- 
sitions he  seems  only  to  have  embodied  his 
earliest  principles.  The  Earl  of  Kincardine, 
one  of  the  leaders  in  the  council,  was  not 
averse  to  concessions  being  granted  to  the 
presbyterians ;  but  he  was  of  opinion  that 
these  concessions  ou^ht  to  be  legalized  by 
an  act  of  parliament,  and  then  it  was  proba- 
ble they  would  subtnit  to  what  they  could  not 
lielp,  while,  if  proposed  beforehand,  they 
would  set  themselves  to  state  objections,  and 
ender  an  agreement  more  hopeless  than 
ever.  Leighton  coincided  with  him  ir  opin- 
ion, and  iBuriiei  was  despatched  to  souiid  Mr. 
Hutchison,  a  cousin-,german  of  his  own,  and 
in  high  repute  among  the  presbyterians,  but 
he  was  of  opinion  it  would  not  meet  the 
wishes  of  either  party.  Lauderdale  objected 
because,  being  the  chief  manager  of  Scottish 


affairs,  and  suspected  of  favorinj  the  presby- 
terians. he  was  afraid  lest  the  English  bishopi 
should  think  he  was  sacrificing  the  cause  of 
episcopacy  to  their  enemies.  The  idea  of  an 
accommodation  between  the  parties  was 
therefore  given  up  at  tliis  time. 

Yet  the  state  of  the  country  required  that 
something  should  be  done.  The  people 
would  not  attend  the  places  where  the  cu- 
rates, "a  set  of  men  so  ignorant  and  so  scan 
dalous,"  officiated,  while  they  flocked  to 
hear  the  zealous  and  able  presby  terian,  or,  as 
they  were  then  called,  "  outed"  ministers, 
who  now  were  forced  to  betake  themselves 
to  the  fields,  and  beneath  the  wide  canopy  of 
heaven,  proclaim  the  truths  of  the  everlast- 
ing gospel.  It  was  in  consequences  suggest- 
ed, that  a  number  of  these  ministers  should 
be  allowed  to  serve  in  the  vacant  parishes 
under  certain  restrictions,  a  fettered  liberty, 
in  opposition  to  the  standing  law  of  the  coun- 
try, which  was  granted  by  the  king  under 
the  ironical  name  of  an  "  ind iil srencc and 
which  was  followed  by  one  of 'the  most  op- 
pressive acts  that  ever  was  framed  for  bur- 
dening the  consciences  of  men,  whose  high- 
est crime  was  contending  for  the  headship  ot 
Christ  in  his  church. 

This  was  the  first  of  the  parliament  1669, 
asserting  his  majesty's  supremacy  over  all 
persons,  and  in  all  cases  ecclesiastical,  by 
virtue  whereof,  the  ordering  and  disposal  of 
the  external  government  and  policy  of  the 
chuich  was  declared  properly  to  belong  to 
the  king,  and  his  successors,  as  an  inherent 
right  of  the  crown.  This,  which  was  an  ex 
•post  facto  legalizing  of  the  king's  stretch  of 
power  in  granting  an  indulgence,*  was  not 
agreeable  to  Leighton,  yet  he  voted  for  it, 
although  he  afterward  expressed  his  regret 
at  having  allowed  himself  to  be  betrayed 
into  such  a  compliance.  Burnet,  archbishop 
of  Glasgow,  and  all  "  his  set,"  who  allowed 
the  king  every  exorbitant  prerogative  that 
he  chose  to  claim,  when  the  object  was  to 
crush  presbytery,  now  complained  loudly 
when  the  prerogative  was  exerted  to  favor  it. 
His  majesty's  supremacy  asserted  by  the  act, 
was  immediately  applied  to  chastise  such  in 
solence,  and  his  grace  of  Glasgow,  rather 
than  dispute  the  point,  took  the  hint,  and  re- 
tired for  a  time  upon  a  pension. 

No  one  of  the  worldly,  ambitious,  and  de- 
tested prelates,  possessed  either  the  esteem 
of  the  people,  or  the  confidence  of  the  gov- 
ernment ;  Leighton  in  these  respects  stood 
alone,  and  his  pre-eminence  pointed  him  out 
as  the  only  fit  person  to  fill  the  arch-episco- 
pate Burnet  had  been  forced  to  resign.  "  I' 
was  easily  found,"  Sir  George  Mackenzie  re- 
marks, "  that  the  bishop  of  Dumblane  was 
•  Btirnpt  savs  the  words  "  pcclesiastical  matters" 
were  inler])olatet!  -^.f'ter  Leigliton  liad  seen  the  act ; 
hut  this  is  a  very  lame  justilication — tlie  very  title  of 
the  bill  implied  them,  and  the  whole  bill,  not  a  very 
long  one,  asserts  in  the  most  unqualified  manner  the 
ecelesiastical  supremacy  of  the  king.  Leighton'* 
easiness  of  temper  is  the  only  excuse. 


AIKMAN'S  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTCN. 


755 


ine  most  proper  and  fit  person  to  serve  the 
Slate  in  the  church  according  to  the  present 
platform  of  government  now  resolved  upon  ; 
for  he  was  in  much  esteem  for  his  piety  and 
moderation  among  the  people,  and  as  to 
which  the  presbyterians  themselves  could 
neither  reproach  nor  equal  him.  Albeit  they 
hated  him  most  of  all  his  fraternity,  in  re- 
spect he  drew  many  into  a  kindness  for  epis- 
copacy by  his  exemplary  life,  rather  than  de- 
bates. His  great  principle  was,  that  devo- 
tion was  the  great  affair  about  which  church- 
men should  employ  themselves,  and  that  the 
gaining  of  souls,  and  not  the  external  gov- 
ernment, was  their  proper  task  ;  nor  did  he 
esteem  it  fit,  and  scarce  lawful  to  church- 
men to  sit  in  councils  and  judicatories,  these 
being  diversions  from  the  main.  And  albeit 
his  judgment  did  lead  him  to  believe  the 
church  of  England  the  best  modelled  of  all 
others,  both  for  doctrine  and  discipline;  yet 
did  he  easily  conform  with  the  practice  of  the 
Christians  among  whom  he  lived,  and  there- 
fore lived  peaceably  under  presbytery  till  it 
was  abolished.  And  when  he  undertook  to  be 
a  bishop  himself,  he  opposed  all  violent  cour- 
ses, whereby  men  were  forced  to  comply  with 
the  present  worship  beyond  their  persuasions ; 
and  he  had  granted  a  iaiitude  and  indulgence 
to  those  of  his  own  diocese,  before  the  king 
had  allowed  any  by  his  letter.  This  made  the  | 
world  believe  that  he  was  author  to  his  ma|-  ' 
esty  of  thai  public  indulgence,  and  the  slates- 1 
men  who  were  unwilling  to  be  authors  of  an  ! 
innovation,  which  some  there  thouirht  might  I 
prove  dangerous,  were  well  satisfied  to  have 
it  so  believed  ;  but  however,  these  principles 
rendered  him  a  fit  instrument  in  their  pres- 
ent undertaking."  The  earls  of  Lauderdale 
and  Tweedale  therefore  urged  him  to  accept 
the  see,  but  he  was  strongly  averse,  and  for 
some  time  so  resolutely  declined,  that  Gil- 
bert Burnet,  professor  of  divinity  in  Glassfow, 
and  all  his  friends,  became  exceedingly  unea- 
sy, and  it  was  only  the  hope  of  bcing'able  to 
achieve  an  accommodation  that  at  lengtli  in- 
duced him  to  consent  to  the  proposal  ;  though 
only  to  hold  the  see  in  coiiimeiidain,  tiiat  is, 
administer  the  affairs  without  being  ordained 
to  the  office. 

As  soon  as  he  had  agreed  to  accept,  the 
king  commanded  his  attendance  at  court,  and 
on  his  way  thither  he  called  upon  the  profes- 
sor, with  whom  he  had  a  long  consultation, 
but  received  poor  encouragement,  for  Burnet 
says,  he  told  him  that  he  expected  little 
good,  only  he  thought  an  accommodation  not 
altogether  impracticable.  Upon  his  arrival 
in  London,  he  found  Lauderdale  strangely 
altered  in  his  temper,  for  having  trium|)he(i 
over  all  his  rivals,  he  was  become  fierce  and 
intractable  :  the  scheme  of  accommodation 
was  judged  improper,  and  toleration  by  royal 
authority,  was  deemed  the  preferable  mode 
for  conciliating  the  country,  and  exalting  his 
majesty's  prerogative.  Vet  the  archbishop's 
arguments  prevailed  with  the  king,  and  his 


plan,  corrected  by  Sir  George  Mvrrray,  wa» 
turned  into  instructions  for  Lauderdale,  the 
lord  high  commissioner,  with  authority  to 
legalize  all  the  concessions  :  but  from  what 
afterward  appeared,  there  was  every  reason 
to  believe  that  Charles  had,  with  his  usual 
duplicity,  given  secret  directions  that  the 
whole  should  be  frustrated. 

Being  fully  occupied  with  his  new  charge, 
the  archbishop  found  it  impracticable  to  at- 
tend the  meeting  of  the  Dumblane  synr/, 
this  year,  but  he  still  was  careful  for  their 
welfare,  and  sent  them  a  truly  pastoral  let- 
ter.* 

He  was  not  less  anxious  about  the  good 
conduct  of  the  clergy  in  his  new  charge.  He 
found  the  whole  country  filled  with  reports 
to  their  disadvantage,  which,  as  we  have 
seen  by  Burnet's  account,  were  far  from  be- 
ing ill  founded.  The  archbishop  therefoie 
appointed  a  committee,  consisting,  not  of  the 
members  of  his  own  synod  alone,  who  were 
too  notorious  thetnselves  to  be  trusted  with 
any  such  delicate  task,  but  comprising  those 
who  stood  fairest  in  the  episcopal  church, 
Mr.  Charters,  Mr.  Nairn,  and  Mr.  Aird,  to 
t^e  cognizance  of  the  complaints  that  might 
be  lodged  against  them.  So  soon,  however, 
as  the  council  were  apprized  of  the  measure, 
under  pretext  of  countenancing  and  assisting 
the  committee  in  discharge  of  their  duty, 
they  nominated  Sir  John  Cochrane,  of  Ochil- 
tree, Sir  Thomas  Wallace,  Sir  John  Cun- 
ningham, Sir  John  Harper,  the  provost  of 
Glasgow  and  Air,  to  attend  and  act  along 
with  them,  but  in  reality  to  prevent  too  riijid 
an  exercise  of  discipline,  for  they  knew  the 
west  country  curates  could  not  bear  even  the 
mild  inspection  of  Leighton  ;  and  the  conse- 
quence was,  that  the  ijood  intentions  of  the 
archbishop  were  rendered  almost  entirely 
abortive. 

The  committee  met  in  September,  when 
the  parishioners  were  invited  to  lodge  their 
complaints,  but  their  first  acts  went  to  nar- 
row as  much  as  possible  the  avenues  to  re- 
dress ;  they  required,  that  whoever  did  not 
fully  substantiate  by  legal  proof  any  com- 
plaint he  brought  forward  against  a  minister, 
should  stand  before  the  congregation  clothed 
in  sackcloth  as  a  slanderer.  This  eflTecluallv 
prevented  many,  who  were  aware  of  the  dif- 
ficulty (>f  proving  what  they  knew  to  be  true, 
from  coining  forward  ;  but  there  were  some 
cases  so  flagrant,  that  the  curates  rather  pre- 
ferred to  take  a  little  money  and  retire,  than 
stand  trial,  with  all  these  ad  vantages  ;  of  the 
accusations  that  came  before  them,  the  re- 
sult was — one  deposed,  and  four  removed  tc 
other  charges  ;  what  the  crimes  were  that 
that  they  visited  thus  heavily,  we  are  not  in- 
formed, but  if  we  may  judge  from  one  case 
which  they  dismissed  without  reproof,  they 
were  no  trifles. 

It  is  thus  recorded  by  Kirkton,  who  was  no 
friend  of  Leighton,  and  reflects  not  more  dia- 
•  Life,  page  '62.  i^ 


lo6 


APPENDIX. 


credii  on  the  un\vi>.  iliiiies^s  of  the  committee, 
tliaii  lionor  uii  the  zeal  of"  J^ei<rlilon  :  "One 
feHVay.  curat  of  Ma\  liole,  sometime  before  al- 
leadiieil  he  hade  been  assaulted  fiir  bis  life  1)V 
his  pansiiimiers,  and  liiis  lie  |)roved  by  ])ro- 
ducing  a  book  which  hade  beini  contused  bv 
a  pisiull  ball,  and  this  book  he  alleadijed  hade 
saved  his  life  ;  for  he  said  he  hade  it  upon 
his  breast  betwix  his  ujipercoat  and  his  doub- 
let, but  his  U])percoat  was  neither  pierceil 
nor  contused.  However,  he  brought  his  t  in- 
plaint  against  his  peojjle,  before  the  coi.imit- 
tee  that  sat  at  Air  about  thai  time.  This  he 
did  in  hopes  to  get  his  paroch  fyned  in  100 
lib.  English,  and  the  money  to  himself;  but 
because  lie  not  only  failed'  in  liis  evidence, 
but  by  the  circumstance  of  the  action  made 
all  Scotland  say  he  hade  contused  the  book 
with  his  own  pistoll,  no  money  he  got,  but 
the  hatred  of  the  peo[ile.  These  thinking 
they  may  now  have  justice  bel''t)re  this  goodly 
purgeing  committee,  accuse  him  there,  ancl 
prove  iiim  guilty  of  many  gross  scandals, 
such  as  swearing,  strikeing,  fighting,  and 
drunkenness,  iiotvvilhsianding  all  which,  the 
committee  absolved  him,  which  made  Leigh- 
ton  so  much  ashamed,  that  out  of  the  pleni- 
tude of  his  power,  he  ihought  fit  to  foroid 
him  the  exercise  of  his  ministry." 

For  some  time  Leigh  ton  continued  to  re- 
side partly  at  Dumblane,  and  partly  at  Glas- 
gow, but  being  consecrated  in  the  month  of 
October,  he  took  full  possession  of  the  arch- 
bishopric, and  went  to  reside  in  the  city  of 
Glasgow.  His  predecessor  had  used  every 
violent  method  to  force  the  peo|)le  to  attend 
the  ministrations  of  llie  vile,  immoral,  and 
illiterate  crew  of  curates  who  filled  the  pul- 
pits 111  the  west,  and  when  the  soldiers  left  his 
diocese,  lamented  that  they  had  carried  the 
gospel  along  with  ihem  !  He  proceeded  upon 
a  very  different  plan.  Soon  after  his  settle- 
ment he  held  a  synod  of  his  clergy.  As  was 
to  be  expected,  their  churches  were  deserted, 
and  themselves  despised  ;  and  never  consid- 
ering that  their  own  conduct,  and  want  of 
ministerial  talents,  were  the  true  reasons  of 
their  being  treated  with  contempt  by  a  well- 
informed  and  a  religious  i)eople,  they  had  ex- 
pected that  their  new  right  reverend  father 
would,  like  the  former,  collect  their  scattered 
flocks  by  the  aid  of  military  evanirelists : — 
He  preached  to  them,  and  in  his  discourses, 
both  public  and  private,  exhorted  them  to 
look  up  more  to  God,  to  consider  themselves 
as  the  ministers  of  the  cross  of  Christ,  to  bear 
the  contempt  and  ill  usaire  they  met  with,  as 
a  cross  laid  on  them  for  the  exercise  of  their 
faith  and  patience  ;  to  lay  aside  all  the  appe- 
tites of  revenge,  to  humble  themselves  be- 
fore God,  to  have  many  days  for  frequent 
lasting  and  prayer,  and  to  meet  often  togeth- 
er, that  they  might  quicken  and  assist  one 
another  in  holy  ejercises,  and  then  they 
might  exi)ect  blessi  igs  from  Heaven  upon 
their  labors:  "This,'  adds  Burnet,  "was  a 
new  ilrain  to  the  cle,  gy — they  had  nothing 


to  say  against  it,  bit  it  was  a  cotnfortlps* 

doctrine  to  them  !"  There  was  no  quarter- 
ing of  soldiers,  and  no  levying  of  fines — so 
they  went  home  as  little  edified  with  their 
new  bishop,  as  he  was  with  them. 

Grieved  at  the  low  state  of  his  episcopal 
clergv,  the  good  man  looked  with  an  eye  of 
longing  regard  to  his  former  esteemed  and 
ni-ous  co-presbyters,  and  visited  several  of  the 
indulged  ministers,  for  the  pnrpose  of  persua- 
ding them  to  listen  to  propositions  of  peace, 
but  he  found  the  truth  of  Solomon's  observa- 
tion,  that  "  a  brother  ofl'ended  is  harder  to  be 
won  thaji  a  strong  city,  and  their  contentions 
are  like  the  bars  of  a  castle."  He  told  them 
that  some  of  their  number  would  quickly  be 
sent  for  to  Edinburgli,  where  conciliatory 
terms  would  be  ofl'ered  them — that  they 
would  be  met  in  sincerity,  and  without  arti- 
fice, and  if  they  in  return  would  cordially  ac- 
quiesce, the  concessions  would  be  turned  into 
laws,  and  all  the  vacancies  would  be  filled 
up  with  their  brethren.  The  ministers  who 
had  suffered  severely,  and  were  well  ac- 
quainted  with  the  character  of  the  Scottish 
rulers,  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical,  whose 
whole  conduct  toward  them  had  been  a  uni- 
form system  of  oppression  and  deceit,  re- 
ceived the  archbishop's  communications  with 
great  coolness  ;  they  suspected  the  proffer  to 
be,  what  we  now  know  it  to  have  been,  upoti 
the  part  of  the  government,  a  snare  to  entrap 
and  to  divide  them  ;  and  they  answered  with 
prudent  caution,  that  it  was  a  matter  of  gen- 
eral concern  to  the  whole  body,  in  which 
they  as  individuals  could  do  nothing. 

Although  it  might  have  been  anticipated, 
yet  the  reception  he  met  with  grieved  and  dis- 
couraged  Leigh  ton,  who  began  to  lose  heart 
in  a  negotiation  where  he  had  to  struggle 
with  so  many  difficulties,  tyranny,  and  insin- 
cerity, on  the  part  of  the  government,  and 
well-grounded  suspicion  and  conscientious 
scruples  on  the  part  of  the  sufferers.  He  did 
not,  however,  give  up  his  endeavors  ;  with 
him  it  was  a  labor  of  love,  and  however  much 
mistaken  in  his  views,  he  was  without  doubt 
sincerely  aiming  at  the  b'^^sing  pronounced 
on  the  peacemakers.  A  his  request,  Lau- 
derdale wrote  to  some  of  the  most  erninent 
of  the  indulged  ministers  in  his  diocese, 
among  whom  were  Mr.  Hutchison,  Mr 
Wedderburn,  and  Mr.  Baird,  requiring  them 
to  attend  a  conference  before  himself.  Twee- 
dale,  and  Kincardine,  at  Edinburgji,  Au- 
gust 9,  1670.  Sharpe  would  not  appear,  but 
Patterson  (afterward  archbishop  of  Glasgow) 
was  present  along  with  Leighion.  The  latter 
opened  the  business  by  deploring  the  divisions 
that  prevailed  among  them,  and  the  mischief 
they  had  done ;  that  souls  were  perishing 
while  they  were  contending  about  matters  of 
infinitely  less  importance,  and  entreated  them 
(o  do  each  what  lay  in  his  power  to  heal  so 
disastrous  a  breach  :  for  his  own  part  he  was 
convinced,  that  from  the  days  oi  tiie  apostles, 
there  always  existed  au  order  of  oishoos  su- 


AIRMAN'S  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  LEIGHTON. 


757 


terici  to  presbjrters  in  the  church,  and  that 
complete  equality  among  clergymen  had  nev- 
er been  heard  of  till  the  middle  of  the  last 
century,  when  it  was  introduced  rather  by  ac- 
cident than  design ;  yet  in  the  proposition  he 
had  to  make,  he  would  not  insist  upon  this — 
by  his  plan  they  would  not  be  required  to  sur- 
render their  opinions  on  that  point,  while 
they  might  unite  in  preaching  the  gospel,  and 
carrying  on  all  the  ends  of  their  ministry. 
They  had  moderators  among  them,  which 
was  no  divine  institution,  but  only  a  matter 
of  order ;  the  king,  therefore,  might  name 
them ;  and  making  them  constant,  was  cer- 
tainly no  such  encroachment  on  their  rights, 
as  should  break  the  peace  of  the  church  ;  nor 
did  blessing  them  with  imposition  of  hands, 
when  they  entered  upon  their  office,  imply 
any  invalidity  in  their  former  ordination — 
they  were  still  ministers.  Some  imagined 
that  a  new  authority  was  conferred,  but  they 
would  be  required  to  submit  to  nothing  more 
^han  to  their  presidency,  and  even  as  to  that 
would  be  allowed  to  exonerate  themselves, 
by  protesting  as  formally  and  publicly  as  tliey 
chose.  Hutchison  replied :  he  said  their 
opinion,  respecting  a  parity  among  ministers, 
was  well  known — that  the  presidency  now 
proposed,  had  formerly  served  to  introduce  a 
lordly  dominion  in  the  church,  and  however 
inconsiderable  their  present  pretensions  might 
be,  they  would  t:erve  to  pave  the  way  for 
future  higiier  demands,  and  therefore  re- 
quested time  to  consider  and  consult  with  his 
brethren. 

A  second  meeting  was  accordingly  appoint- 
ed in  November,  when  the  whole  dined  to- 
ether  by  the  Lord  High  Commissioner  Lau- 
erdale's  invitation.  After  dinner  his  lord- 
ship joined  them,  in  hopes  that  his  presence 
might  awe  the  [).irties  into  mutual  concession  ; 
but  when  he  found  that  the  presbyterians 
were  not  prepared  to  surrender  their  princi- 
ples, he  was  with  difficulty  restrained  from 
bursting  out  into  one  of  his  outrageous  fits  of 
passion,  by  which  he  had  latterly  been  accus- 
tom(?d  to  overawe  his  political  adversaries. 
Leighton,  who  knew  how  vain  it  would  be, 
persuaded  him  to  rest  quietly,  and  hear  the 
ministers'  objection.s.  They  were  the  Hnmc 
as  stated  at  the  former  meeting,  in  which 
they  had  hec.n  confirmed  by  reflection  and  in- 
tercourse with  the  other  presbyterians,  who 
all  coincided  in  opinion,  that  the  accommod;i- 
tion  was  merely  a  scheme  to  lull  their  vigi- 
lance asleep,  and  render  them  subservient  to 
the  trium|>hant  establishment  of  e()iscopacy, 
when  the  present  supporters  of  pre.sbyterian- 
ism  should  be  laid  in  the  grave. 

Thus  the  conference  ended  without  being 
productive  of  any  advantige  to  the  archbish- 
op's wished-for  conciliation  ;  but  the  presby- 
terians were  not  the  oidy  enemies  to  an  ad- 
justment, although  [)erhaps  the  only  consci- 
entious ones.  Sharpe  was  violentiy  against 
the  accommodation  "  Episcopacy,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  was  undermined ;"  and  the  infe- 


rior clergy,  Burnet  tells  us,  hated  the  whole 
thing,  "  for  they  thought,  if  the  presbyterians 
were  admitted  into  churches,  they  would  be 
neglected." 

Wher  the  conference  ended,  Leighton  did 
not  despsir :  he  knew  the  aversion  the  people 
had  to  come  to  any  terms  with  the  profligate 
clergy  of  a  persecuting  church,  and  he  also 
knew  the  influence  which  tlieir  decided  opin- 
ions in  this  matter  had  upon  the  ministers. 
He  therefore  adopted  another  method  for  at- 
taining his  darling  object,  and  endeavored  to 
engage  them  upon  his  side ;  he  could  get  no 
assistance  from  his  own  diocese.  "  The  epis- 
copal clergy  in  the  west  could  not  argue  much 
fi)r  any  thing  and  would  not  at  all  argue  in 
favor  of  a  proposition  they  hated ;"  but  he 
employed  si.\  divines  of  th.-it  persuasion,  of  a 
higher  character,  and  from  a  different  quar- 
ter—  Messrs.  Burnet,  Charters,  Nairn,  Aird, 
Cook,  and  Paterson  —  to  perambulate  the 
country,  preach  in  the  vacant  ciiurclie.s,  and 
explain  to  their  hearers  the  grounds  of  the 
accommodation.  They  were  tolerably,  not 
numerously  attended,  and  they  had  little  suc- 
cess in  th({  object  of  their  mission ;  they  had 
to  do  with  a  people  who  understood  the  sub- 
ject, and  who  seem  to  have  astonished  the 
episcopalians.  "  We  were  indeed  amazed  to 
see  a  poor  commonalty,"  says  one  of  their 
number,  "  so  capable  to  argue  upon  points  of 
governments,  and  on  the  bounds  to  be  set  to 
the  power  of  princes  in  matters  of  religion  ; 
upon  all  these  topics  they  had  texts  of  scrip- 
ture at  hand,  and  were  ready  with  their  an- 
swers to  any  thing  that  was  said  to  them. 
This  measure  of  knowledge  was  spread  even 
among  the  meanest  of  them,  their  cottagers 
and  their  servants.  They  were  indeed  vain 
of  their  knowledge,  much  conceited  of  them- 
selves, and  were  full  of  a  most  entangled 
scrupulosity,  so  that  they  found  and  made  dif- 
ficulties  to  every  thing  that  could  be  laid  be- 
fore them." 

Another  attempt  was  yet  again  made  by 
Leighton  for  accommodation.  But  at  the  very 
moment  when  he  was  holding  out  proffers  of 
friendship,  the  parliament  were  enacting  stat- 
utes of  blood  I  Can  it  be  at  all  wonderful  in 
such  a  case,  that  the  negotiations  terminated 
unfortunately?  His  opponents  knew,  that 
however  they  miglit  be  disposed  to  trust  him, 
not  the  smallest  confidence  could  be  pl.iced  in 
his  associates.  They  notwithstanding  met 
him,  first  at  Paisley,  where  twenty-six  or 
thirty  presbylerian  ministers  were  present. 
There  some  small  alteration  was  mad(^  in  his 
overtures,  but  Messrs  Hutchison,  Wedder- 
burn,  Baird,  and  their  companions,  still  per- 
ceived the  horns  of  the  mitre,  and,  with  the 
oW  fathers  of  presbyti-ry,  refused  to  accept 
them,  even  when  "  busket  ever  sae  bon- 
nily." 

Two  meetings  upon  the  llth  and  26th  of 
January,  lfi71,  at  Holyrood-house,  closed  the 
conferences.  In  one  of  these,  Leighton  of- 
fered to  dispute  for  episcopacy  against  pres- 


738 


APPENDIX. 


bytery  ;  but  this  beinj  illegal, ar.rl  wnat  nii;;hl 
have  subjocteii  his  opponent  to  a  capital  pun- 
ishment, Mr.  Huirhison  rpfused.  On  which 
Burnet,  who  was  present,  ap'^earin!^  to  tri- 
umph, Mr.  Weilderburn  acclared  he  would 
accept  the  ciiallentfe,  if"  tiie  lord  chancellor 
would  authorize  him  ;  hut  his  lordship  decli- 
ning;, no  more  was  said  upon  the  suhject. 

Findinn;  all  his  endeavors  to  promote  peace 
and  concord  inelTectual,  and  his  plans  either 
thwarted,  or  at  least  not  seconded  by  those 
from  whom  he  n)ig^iit  have  expected  support, 
he  resolved,  as  infirmities  were  befjimiins  to 
threaten  him,  to  retire  from  a  field  in  which 
there  was  no  prospect  ol'  usefulness.  He  was 
suspected  by  the  hijh  episcopalian  |)ariy,  and 
had  no  influence  with  the  presbyierians  ;  and 
in  reply  to  the  arguments  of  Burnet  for  his 
continuing  in  that  station,  he  said,  "  his  work 
seemed  to  be  at  an  end  :  he  had  no  more  to 
do,  unless  he  had  a  mind  to  please  himself 
with  the  lazy  enjoying  a  good  revenue."  A 
mode  of'spending  the  residue  of  life  very  dif- 
ferent from  what  he  contemplated.  "  Our 
joint  business,"  said  he  in  a  letter  to  his  sis- 
ter, ap|)arently  written  about  this  time,  "  is  to 
die  daily  to  this  world  and  self,  that  what 
little  remains  of  our  life,  we  may  live  to  Him 
that  died  for  us.  For  myself,  to  what  pur- 
pose is  it  to'  tell  you,  what  the  bearer  can, 
that  I  grow  old  and  sickly,  and  though  I  have 
here  great  retirement,  as  great,  and  probably 
greater  than  I  could  readily  find  anywhere 
else,  yet  I  am  still  panting  after  a  retreat 
from  this  place,  and  all  public  charge,  and 
next  to  rest  in  the  grave.  It  is  the  pressing- 
est  desire  I  have  of  anything  I  have  in  this 
world,  that  I  might  be  with  you  or  near  you. 
But  our  heavenly  Father,  we  quietly  resign- 
ing all  to  him,  both  knows  and  will  do  what 
is  best."  This  letter  is  dated  from  Duinblane, 
to  which  place  he  delighted  to  resort  during 
the  intervals  of  his  archiepiscopal  labors,  and 
whence  he  wrote  an  admirable  pastoral  letter 
to  his  synod.* 

He  had  found  Lauderdale  extremely  un- 
■wiliinu  to  accept  of  his  resignation,  as  that 
nobleman  knew  well  tiie  value  of  such  a 
character  fur  supporting  the  already  almost 
hopeless  i)ierarchy  in  Scotland  ;  he  therefore, 
in  the  summer  of  1G73,  repaired  to  London, 
and  tenderedit  personally  to  the  king.  Charles, 
too,  was  averse  to  his  retirement,  but  the 
archbishop  was  resolute,  and  his  majesty 
airreed,  that  if  he  would  continue  another 
year  upon  trial,  he  should  then  be  allowed  to 
resign,  if  still  of  the  same  mind.  He  returned 
"■•^joicing  with  the  royal  engagement  in  wri- 
ting, and  observed  to  Dr.  Burnet,  that  "  there 
was  now  but  one  uneasy  stage  between  him 
and  rest,  and  he  would  wrestle  through  it  the 
best  he  could."  His  professional  duties  were 
performed  with  his  usual  zeal  and  assiduity 
during  the  appointed  time,  at  the  close  of 
which  he  hastened  to  London,  and  cheerfully 
laid  down  his  liigh  office,  which  some  chan- 
•  Life,  page  34. 


ges  in  the  aspect  of  the  pr.icticiil  afTi.irs  of 
Scotland  occasioned  to  be  received  without 
more  dilHculty. 

Various  reports  were  spread  at  tlie  time 
respecting  this  transaction,  but  there  is  no 
reason  to  suppose  tli.-it  the  causes  were  othei 
than  those  wliich  be  has  himself  left  on  re- 
cnrd.  Thev  have  been  preserved  in  MS.  in 
the  University  of  Edinburgh  * 

After  lie  had  retired  from  public  life,  he 
spent  some  time  in  n  f;irewell  visit  to  the  uni- 
versity of  Edinburgh,  and  his  letters  ;iccord 
with  the  feelings  one  loves  to  indulge  in  vi.s- 
iting,  for  the  last  time,  scenes  in  wiiich  the 
most  active  vears  of  life  have  passed.  One 
is  to  Mr.  Lightinaker.  his  sister's  husband,  on 
the  death  of  a  beloved  child:  the  other  to  a 
l.idv  laboring  under  mental  distress,  but  to 
whom  he  was  person.illy  unknown  f 

"I  am  glad  of  vour  il(^■lltb.  and  the  recov- 
ery of  your  little  ones  ;  but  indeed  it  was  a 
sh.'irp  stroke  of  a  pen  that  tnld  me  your  little 
Johnny  vvns  dead,  and  I  felt  it  truly  more 
than,  to  my  remcinbranee,  I  did  the  death  of 
any  child  in  my  lifetime.    Sweet  tiling,  and 
is  he  so  quickly  laid  to  sleep?    Happy  he. 
Tliough  w^e  shall  no  more  have  the  pleasure 
of  his  lisping  and  laughing,  he  shall  have  no 
more  the  pain  of  crying,  nor  of  being  sick, 
nor  of  dying,  and  hath  wholly  escaped  the 
trouble  of  schooling  and  all  the  sufferings  of 
boys,  and  the  riper  and  deeper  griefs  of  upper 
years,  this  poor  life  being,  all  along,  nothing 
but  a  linked  chain  of  many  sorrows  and  of 
many  deaths.    Tell  my  dear  sister  she  is  now 
so  much  more  akin  to  the  other  world  ;  and 
this  will  quickly  be  passed  to  us  all.  John 
!  is  but  gone  an  hour  or  two  sooner  to  bed  as 
children  used  to  do,  and  we  are  undressing  to 
follow.    And  the  more  we  put  off  the  love 
j  of  the  present  world  and  all  things  superflu- 
ous beforehand,  we  shall  have  the  less  to  do 
j  when  we  lie  down.    It  shall  refresh  me  to 
hear  from  you  at  your  leisure.    Sir,  your  af- 
fectionate brother — R.  IjEighton." 

Finally  retired  from  public  life,  he  removed, 
after  a  short  stay  in  Edinburgh,  to Broadhurst, 
in  Sussex,  an  esiate  belonging  to  Mr.  Light- 
maker,  his  sister's  husband,  and  with  these 
dear  relations  he  remained  till  within  a  short 
period  of  his  decease.  Little  is  recorded  of 
these  years,  and  it  would  be  in  vain  to  fill  with 
conjectural  speculations  a  space  of  which  we 
are  only  told  that  it  was  occupied  with  deeds 
of  charity  and  laborsof  love ;  that  he  preached 
frequently  in  the  pulpits  to  which  he  had  ac- 
cess, and  that  here,  as  in  all  his  other  abodes, 
the  poor  and  the  ignorant  were  the  objects  of 
his  peculiar  care.  The  serene  tenor  of  his 
course  was,  however,  once  interrupted  by  an 
unexpected  call  from  the  king  to  resume  his 
high  functions  in  Scotland.  The  extreme  of 
persecution  having  been  tried  in  that  country, 
only  produced  its  usual  and  natural  effects, 
the  people  became  more  exasperated  against 

•  Life,  page  36. 

t  Lite,  pages  41,  44. 


AIRMAN'S  LIFE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  ^LIGHTO> 


759 


a  church  to  which  they  were  thus  attempted 
to  be  dragooned.    And  the  duke  of  Mon- 
moutli,  WHO  had  witnessed  the  unfeeling  tyr- 
anny of  the  prelates,  and  ihe  unmitigated 
misery  of  the  people,  during  his  residence 
there,  influenced  both  by  compassion  and  po- 
litical motives,  made  an  effort  to  introduce 
milder  measures  ;  and  the  consequence  was 
the  following  letter  from  Charles:  "  Wind- 
sor, ^w/y  16, 1679.  My  Lord  :  I  am  resolved 
to  try  what  clemency  can  prevail  upon  such 
in  Scotland  as  will  not  conform  to  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  church  there  ;  for  effecting  of 
which  design,  I  desire  that  you  may  go  down 
to  Scotland  with  your  first  conveniency,  and 
take  all  possible  pains  for  persuading  all  you 
can,  of  both  opinions,  to  as  much  mutual  cor- 
respondence and  concord  as  may  be  ;  and 
send  me,  from  time  to  time,  characters  both 
of  men  and  things.    In  order  to  this  design,  I 
shall  send  you  a  precept  for  two  hundred 
pounds  sterling  upon  my  exchequer,  till  you 
resolve  how  to  serve  me  in  a  stated  employ- 
ment. Your  loving  friend,  Charlf.s  R. — For 
the  bishop  of  Diimhiane.''''    But  the  power  of 
Monmouth  declining  shortly  after,  tiie  prop- 
osition fell  to  the  ground,  deliverance  came 
to  the  presbyterians  from  another  quarter, 
and  the  venerable  bishop  was  left  quietly  to 
pursue  the  method  of  life  that  he  loved,  to 
meditate  upon  eternity,  and  to  prepare  for  it. 
The  Scriptures  were  daily  ;he  men  of  his 
council,  and  the  book  of  Psalms  was  espe- 
cially a  portion  which  he  perused  with  de- 
light hiinsell',  and  recommended  to  others. 
The  sabbath  was  his  deliglit,  and  no  slight 
hinderance  could  detain  him  from  the  house 
of  prayer.    Upon  one  occasion,  when  he  was 
indisposed,  the  day  being  stormy,  his  friends 
urged  him,  on  account  of  his  health,  not  to 
venture  to  church  :  "  Were  the  weather  fair," 
was  the  reply,  "  I  would  stay  at  home,  but 
since  it  is  otherwise,  I  must  go,  lest  I  be 
thought  to  countenance  by  my  example  the 
irreligious  practice  of  allowing  trivial  hinder- 
ances  to  keep  me  back  from  public  worship." 
But  perhaps  the  highest  eulogium  that  can 
be  passed  on  the  uniform  holiness  of  his 
character,  is  the  effect  that  it  had  on  his 
brother-in-law,  who.  upon  daily  beholding  it, 
exclaimed,  "  If  none  shall  go  to  heaven  but 
so  holy  a  man  as  this,  what  will  become  of 
me  ?■' and  became  so  deeply  impressed  with 
a  sense  of  the  importance  of  pressing  forward 
•JiHo  perfection,  that  he  relinquished  a  prof- 
ilable  business,  lest  it  should  too  much  entan- 
gle hirn,  and  devoted  his  remaining  years  to 
the  care  of  his  soul. 

In  1084,  Leighton  was  induced  to  come  to 
London  upon  a  visit  of  mercy.  Lord  Perth, 
who  had  participated  in  all  the  atrocities  of 
the  times,  arrived  in  the  English  capital  to  be 
invested  with  the  office  of  lord  high  chancel- 
lor of  Scotland,  and  whether  from  some  tem- 
porary compunciious  feeling  or  some  preten- 
Rions  to  it,  had  earnestly  requested  Burnet  to 
urocure  him  an  interview  :  "  I  thought,"  says 


the  bishop,*  "  tnat  angelic  man  might  have 
awakened  .d  him  some  cf  tnose  good  princi 
pies  whicn  jie  seemed  once  to  have,  and 
which  were  now  totally  extinguished  in 
him ;"  and  at  his  urgent  desire  Leighton 
came  to  London.  "I  was  amazed  to  see 
him,"  continues  Burnet,  "  at  about  seventy, 
look  so  fresh  and  well,  that  age  seemed  as  it 
might  stand  still  with  him  ;  his  hair  was 
still  black,  and  all  his  motions  were  lively: 
he  had  the  same  quickness  of  thought  and 
strength  of  memory,  but  above  all,  the  same 
heat  and  life  of  devotion,  that  I  had  ever  seen 
in  him.  When  I  took  notice  to  him  upon  my 
first  seeing  him,  hcnv  well  he  looked,  he  told 
me  he  was  near  his  end  for  all  that,  and  his 
work  and  journey  both  were  now  almost  done. 
This  at  that  time  made  an  impression  on  me. 
He  was  the  next  day  taken  with  an  oppres- 
sion, and  as  it  seemed  with  a  cold  and  with 
stitches,  which  was  indeed  a  pleurisy.  The 
day  after  Leighton  sunk  so  that  both  speech 
and  sense  went  away  of  a  sudden,  and  he 
continued  panting  about  twelve  hours,  and 
then  died  without  pangs  or  convulsions.  I 
was  by  him  all  the  while.  Thus  I  lost  him 
who  for  so  many  years  had  been  the  chief 
guide  of  my  whole  life."  He  died  in  the 
seventy-fourth  year  of  his  age,  and  was  in- 
terred at  Horsted  Keynes,  where  his  brother 
Sir  Ellis  had  been  buried  only  a  short  time 
before;  an  unostentatious  inscription  marks 
the  place  where  his  dust  rests  in  hope  :  De- 
positum,  Robert  Leightounj  Archiepiscopi 
Olasguensis  apud  Scotos,  qui  objt  xxv  die 
Junij  Anno  Dmj  1684,  vEtatis  sua;  74. 

Two  remarkable  circumstances  attended 
his  death.  He  used  often  to  say,  that  if  he 
were  to  choose  a  place  to  die  in,  it  should  be 
an  inn,  it  looking  so  like  a  pilgrim's  going 
home,  to  whom  this  world  was  all  as  an  inn. 
It  was  his  opinion  also,  that  the  officious  ten- 
derness and  care  of  friends,  was  an  entangle- 
ment to  a  dying  man,  and  that  the  uncon- 
cerned attendance  of  those  who  could  be  pro- 
cured in  such  a  place,  would  give  less  dis- 
turbance: this  wish  was  granted;  it  was  at 
the  Bell  inn,  Warwicklane,  where  he  expired. 
Another  was,  that  while  bishop  in  Scotland, 
he  never  harassed  his  people  for  his  stipend, 
small  as  it  was,  not  above  ,£L'?0  per  annum 
at  Dumblane,  and  only  about  £400  at  Glas- 
gow, but  generally  took  what  they  were 
I)leased  to  pay,  by  which  means  considerable 
arrears  were  due  when  he  left,  and  the  last 
remittance  which  he  had  reason  to  expect, 
arrive'"  about  six  weeks  before  his  death. 
His  will,  which  had  been  written  a  short 
time  before,  shows  however,  that  although 
not  rich,  he  yet  had  something  to  leave.f 

But  his  liberality  was  not  deferred  till  he 
could  no  longer  hold  a  grasp  of  his  money. 
He  allotted  every  penny  beyond  what  was 
barely  necessary  for  his  personal  expenses,  to 
pious  and  benevolent  purposes.    Wiicn  prin- 

•  History  of  his  own  times  anno  1684. 
t  Lite,  page  53. 


760 


APPENDIX. 


"•ipal  of  E(]iiiburn:li  university,  he  fouiuled  a 
bursary,  ami  lor  ihat  purpose  gave  £150  to 
the  city  :  when  atGhisijow  he  allotted  to  the 
poor  of  Dunihlane,  a  considerable  sum  due  to 
him  by  a  srenileman  in  that  jtiace  ;  he  appro- 
priated £300  for  three  bursaries  in  (ihissow 
university,  and  as  much  Ibr  maintaining  four 
old  men  in  St.  Nicholas  hospiial.  During  his 
retirement  in  Sussex,  "he  distributed,"  says 
J)r.  Burnet,  "  all  he  had  m  charities,  choos- 
ing rather  to  give  it  through  other  people's 
hands  than  his  own  :  for  1  was  his  almoner 
in  London."  To  enable  him  to  be  charitable, 
he  was  abstemious  :  his  sister,  we  are  told, 
once  asked  him  to  eat  of  some  delicate  dish  ; 
he  declined,  saying,  "  What  is  it  good  for  but 
to  please  a  wanton  taste— one  thing  forborne 
is  better  than  twenty  taken."  Bui,  asked  his 
sister,  why  were  these  tilings  bestowed  upon 
us  ?  To  see,  he  answered,  how  well  we  can 
forbear  them — and  then  added,  "Shall  I  eat 
of  this  delicacy  while  a  poor  man  wants  his 
dinner  ?"  The  same  sister,  upon  another 
occasion,  imagining  he  carried  indifference  to 
worldly  things  too  far,  remarked  to  him,  "  if 
you  had  a  wife  and  cliildren,  you  would  not 
act  thus."  His  reply  was,  "  I  know  not  how 
-t  would  be,  but  1  know  how  it  should  be — 
Jinoch  walked  with  God,  and  begat  sons  and 
•-laughters."  Humility  was  one  of  the  most 
distinguishing  features  of  his  character,  of 
which  many  instances  are  given  in  the  pre- 
ceding pages,  and  so  conspicuously  did  it 
shine,  that,  in  order  to  dim  its  lustre,  his 
enemies  were  constrained  to  doubt  its  reality, 
and  describe  it  as  atTected  ;  but  it  was  too 
unostentatious,  too  general,  and  too  consist- 
ent, to  be  false.  Indeed,  personal  holiness 
was  the  main  object  of  his  life,  so  much  so, 
that  when  he  heard  of  any  changing  their 
profession  of  religion,  he  would  ask  when 
ihey  became  holier  ? 

His  natural  temper  was  singularly  gentle 
and  amiable,  and  endeared  him  to  all  with 
whom  he  had  any  intercourse,  and  overcame 
in  many  of  his  opponents  the  prejudices  his 
dereliction  of  their  party  inspired  ;  though 
in  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  even  from  the 
partial  statements  of  his  pupil  and  friend,  he 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  greatly  enamored 
of  the  change  he  had  made.  "He  lamented 
oft  to  me  the  stupidity  that  he  observed 
among  the  commons  of  England,  who  seemed 
to  be  much  more  insensible  in  matters  of  re- 
ligion than  the  commons  of  Scotland  were. 
He  retained  still  a  peculiar  inclination  to 
Scotland,  and  if  he  had  seen  any  prospect  of 
doing  good  there,  he  would  have  gone,  and 
lived,  and  died  among  them."  He  looked 
on  the  state  the  church  of  England  was  in, 
with  very  melancholy  reflections,  and  was 
very  uneasy  at  an  expression  then  used,  that 
it  was  the  best  constituted  church  in  the 
world.  He  thought  it  was  truly  so  with 
relation  to  the  doctrine,  the  worship,  and  the 
main  lart  of  her  government.  But  as  to  the 
aiministratioi ,  both  with  relatio.i  to  the  ec- 


clesiastical courts,  and  the  pastoral  care,  he 
looked  on  it  as  one  of  the  most  corrupt  he 
had  ever  seen.  He  thought  we  looked  like 
the  fair  carcase  of  a  body  without  a  spirit, 
without  that  zeal,  that  strictness  of  life,  and 
that  laboriousness  in  the  clergy  that  became 
us."  His  conversation  is  represented  as  hav- 
ing been  eminently  heavenly  and  spiritual, 
"  and  he  had  brought  himself,"  says  the  wri- 
ter so  often  referred  to,  "into  so  composed  a 
gravity,  that  I  never  saw  him  laugh,  and  but 
seldom  smile,  and  he  ke|)t  himself  in  such  a 
constant  recollection,  that  I  do  not  remember 
that  I  ever  heard  him  say  one  idle  word." 
Most  probably  the  state  of  the  country  and 
the  church,  tended  greatly  to  produce  this 
general  solemnity  of  manner,  for  he  was 
deeply  affected  with  public  events.  How  he 
could  improve  Itttle  incidents  is  well  illustra- 
ted by  an  answer  he  made  to  a  remark  of 
some  of  his  friends,  "you  have  been  to  hear 
a  sermon."  "  I  met  a  sermon,  a  sermon  de 
facto,  for  I  met  a  corpse,  and  rightly  and 
profitably  are  the  funeral  rites  observed,  when 
the  living  lay  it  to  heart."  Bishop  Leigliton's 
stature  was  small,  and  his  countenance  be- 
nignant. That  he  was  slender,  we  learn 
from  an  exclamation  of  his,  when  told -that  a 
corpulent  person  had  died:  "  How  is  it  that 

A   has  broken  through  these  goodly 

brick  walls,  while  I  am  ke])t  in  by  a  bit  of 
flimsy  deal?"  He  would  never  sit  for  his 
picture,  and  the  engravings  we  have  of  him, 
were  done  from  one  taken  by  stealth,  but 
which  those  who  knew  him  pronounced  to 
be  not  a  bad  likeness,  though  it  did  not  do 
full  justice  to  the  mild  expression  of  tht 
original. 

It  only  remains  to  notice  his  theological 
works.  Their  praise  is  in  all  the  churches. 
Episcopalians,  presbyterians,  and  independ- 
ents, have  concurred  to  express  their  high  ad- 
miration of  their  unrivalled  excellence.* 

"Perhaps,"  says  Mr.  Orme,  in  his  Bibli- 
otheca  Bihlica,  "  there  is  no  expository  work 
in  the  English  language  equal  altogether  to 
the  exposition  of  Peter.  It  is  rich  in  evan- 
gelical sentiment  and  exalted  devotion.  The 
meaning  is  seldom  missed,  and  often  admira- 
bly illustrated.  There  is  learning  without 
its  parade;  theology  divested  of  systematic 
stiffness  ;  and  eloquence  in  a  beautiful  flow 
of  unaffected  language  and  appropriate  ima- 
gery. To  say  more  would  be  unbecoming, 
and  less  could  not  be  said  with  justice." 

Jerment,  in  his  life  of  Lcighton,  thus  writes: 
— "  The  modesty  of  Leighton  was  the  more 
comely  and  ornamental,  that  it  was  joined  to 
high  intellectual  capacity  and  attainments, 
and  to  the  graces  of  elocution.  His  acquaint- 
ance with  literature  was  various  and  pro- 
found. Of  a  quick  and  capacious  understand 
ing  ;  of  an  elevated  genius  and  refined  taste; 
of  a  vigorous  and  elegant  fancy  ;  of  a  reten- 

*  Doddridge's  judgment  is  declared  in  his  preface 
and  Pearson's  Criticjue  is  found  in  tim  'ife,  pp.  47,  4i 


LETTERS. 


76 


tive  memory — he  dranK  deep  at  the  sprmgs 
of  knowleds^e,  by  close  application,  and  al- 
most incessant  study.  Our  author  had  pe- 
rused with  care  and  delight  the  Roman  and 
the  Greek  classics.  His  Latin  would  do 
honor  to  the  Augustan  age;  and  is  not  infe- 
rior in  purity  and  strength  to  the  style  of  the 
learned  and  polished  Buchanan.  The  He- 
brew was  quite  familiar  to  him,  and  he  pos- 
sessed a  critical  knowledge  of  that  concise 
and  energetic  tongue.  He  understood  French 
well;  and  could  both  speak  and  write  the 
language  with  correctness  and  ease.  He 
knew  philosophy  in  the  greater  part  of  its 
branches  ;  and  had  read  with  attention  and 
profit,  history,  sacred  and  profane,  civil  and 
ecclesiastical,  ancient  and  modern.  Divinity, 
however,  was  his  principal  study  ;  and  he 
was  truly  a  master  in  Israel.  Of  the  most  of 
these  rare  and  useful  endowments  his  wri- 
tings afford  abundant  and  incontrovertible 
evidence. 

"Leighton  used  all  his  learning  as  a  hand- 
maid to  re.igion,  and  employed  it  in  the  ser- 


I  vice  of  the  sanctuary.  He  derived  theology 
j  cal  knowledge,  not  so  much  from  human 
systems  as  from  the  sacred  oracles  ;  and  that 
knowledge  received  a  mellowness  from  his 
own  natural  and  gracious  placidity.  At  timP'^ 
a  Boanerges  in  sentiment ;  he  was  usually, 
both  in  sentiment  and  style,  a  son  of  consola- 
tion. The  cotemporary  bishops  of  the  north, 
compared  with  him,  were  dwarfs  in  mind, 
and  wolves  in  disposition.  There  were  bright 
constellations  of  divines,  both  in  England  and 
Scotland.  But  Leighton  shone  pre-eminent 
above  the  majority  :  and  was  a  star  of  the 
first  magnitude.  Among  the  first  preachers 
of  his  own  day,  he  has  never  been  surpassed, 
taking  him  all  in  all,  since  that  period.  More 
sententious  than  Reynolds,  more  refined  than 
Howe,  more  eloquent  than  Baxter  ;  less  dif- 
fuse and  argumentative,  but  more  practical 
than  Charnock  ;  less  profound,  but  clearer 
and  more  savory  than  Owen  ;  less  ingenious, 
but  sweeter  and  more  sublime  than  Hall — he 
will  not  suffer  by  comparison  with  any  di- 
vine, in  any  age." 


LETTERS.* 


1. 

Sir:  i  see  there  is  no  pi'ace,  city  or  coun- 
try, valley  nor  mountain,  free  from  that  sen- 
tence so  early  passed  upon  the  earth  for  man's 
cause,  "  thorns  and  briers  shalt  thou  bring 
forth  ;"  but  he  that  is  well  shod  walks  on  the 
safelier  till  he  comes  where  there  are  none: 
but  seeing  that  is  not  here,  we  are  to  use  the 
greater  coolness  and  deliberation  in  our  re- 
moves. If  your  present  company  be  some 
way  irksome,  a  greater  Solitude  may  prove 
more  so:  only  if  God  both  sensibly  fits  you 
for  it,  and  points  clearly  out  the  way  to  it, 
follow  him  ;  otherwise  my  advice  should  be 
not  to  hasten  too  much,  and  particularly  at 
no  hand  so  to  hasten  as  to  run  in  debt  for  it ; 
for  I  sjieak  it  on  experience,  he  that  sets  up 
anywhere  in  debt,  it  will  keep  him  possibly 
wrestling  at  and  under  many  years  ;  but  if 
you  let  your  incomes  do  their  own  business, 
pian  piano,  as  they  come  to  your  hand,  you 
will  find  it  much  easier  to  do,  and  sweeter 
when  It  is  done :  meanwhile  I  know  you  can 
digest  all  a  little  longer,  as  hitherto  you  have 
done.  To  your  other  point  touching  bap- 
tism, freely  my  thought  is,  it  is  a  weak  no- 

•  The  followini;  lottPfs  nxhibit  Archbishop  Leigh- 
ton in  liis  priviitf  intrrcnurse,  as  nn  .imiahlc  man,  and 
a  tPiidfr,  faitlifiil  Irifnd.  As  his  bingrapljy  coni- 
irisfd  not  any  circuinstanof's  to  which  they  particu- 
arly  refVrred,  they  are  placed  at  the  end^of  the 
volume. 

96 


tion  taken  up  on  trust  almost  generally,  to 
consider  so  much,  or  at  all,  the  qualifications 
of  the  parents.  Either  it  is  a  benefit  to  in- 
fants, or  it  is  not.  If  none,  why  then  admin- 
istered at  all  ?  But  if  it  be,  then  why  should 
the  poor  innocents  be  prejudged  of  ii  for  the 
parent's  cause,  if  he  profess  but  so  much  of 
a  Christian  as  to  offer  his  child  lo  that  ordi- 
nance ?  For  that  it  is  the  parent's  faith 
gives  the  cbild  a  right  to  it,  is  neither  clear 
from  Scripture,  nor  any  sound  reason  ;  yet  in 
that  I  heartily  apjirove  your  thoughts  that 
you  would  make  it,  as  it  most  fitly  may  be, 
an  active  inducement  to  the  parents  to  know 
him  and  his  doctrine,  and  live  conformed  to 
it,  unto  whose  name  they  desire  their  children 
to  be  baptized.  But  in  this,  and  the  other 
business,  and  in  all  things,  I  am  confident 
that  good  Hand,  to  which  I  know  you  have 
given  up  yourself,  will  graciously  guide  you 

 they  miscarry  that  desire 

to  h  will  but  his.    Oh  let  it 

still  entirely  be  so  with  you  and  your  resigned 
friend, 

R.  L. 

'Tis  well  our  great  journey  is  going  on,  and 
will  quickly  set  us  where  we  would  be. 
The  business  you  write  of  is  to  you  one 
signal  step  of  it,  marked  out  by  that  sov- 
ereign hand  which,  I  doubt  not,  will  lead 
you  in  it,  and  all  along  throu(;h  what  re 
mains,  to  whom  I  know  you  are  constant 
ly  . 


768 


APPENDIX. 


11. 

Sir  :  Some  days  asjo  I  received  some  lines 
from  you,  and  they  were  very  welcome;  for 
I  know  no  heller  news  can  come  from  any 
corner  of  liie  earth,  than  of  a  soul  attem]>t- 
ing  to  overcome  the  world  and  its  own  self, 
and  in  any  degree  prevailing  and  resolving 
still  onward  ;  all  the  projects  and  conquests 
of  the  world  are  not  to  be  named  to  it.  C)h  I 
what  a  weariness  is  it  to  live  among  men, 
and  find  so  few  men  ;  and  among  Christians, 
and  so  few  Christians  :  so  much  talk  and  so 
little  action  ;  religion  turned  almost  to  a  tune 
and  air  of  words  ;  and,  amid  all  our  pretty 
discourses,  pusillanimous  and  base,  and  so 
easily  dragged  into  the  mire,  self  and  flesh, 
and  pride  and  passion  domineering,  while  we 
speak  of  being  in  Christ,  and  clothed  with 
him,  and  believe  it  because  we  speak  it  so 
often  and  so  confidently  I  Well,  I  know  you 
are  not  willing  to  be  thus  gulled,  and  having 
some  glances  of  the  beauty  of  holiness,  aim 
no  lower  than  perfection,  which  in  end  we 
hope  to  attain  :  and  in  the  meanwhile,  the 
smallest  advances  toward  it  are  worth  more 
than  crowns  and  sceptres.  I  believe  that  you 
often  think  on  those  words  of  the  blessed 
champion  Paul,  I  Cor.  ix.  24,  &c.  There  is 
a  noble  guest  within  us.  Oh  !  let  all  our 
business  be  to  entertain  him  honorably,  and 
to  live  in  celestial  love  within,  that  will  make 
all  things  without  be  very  contemptible  in 
our  eyes.  I  should  rove  on  did  not  I  stop 
myself,  it  falling  out  too  well  for  that,  to  be 
hard  upon  the  post  hours,  ere  I  thought  of 
writing.  Therefore,  good-night  is  all  I  add  ; 
for  whatsoever  hour  it  comes  to  your  hand,  I 
believe  you  are  as  sensible  as  T  that  it  is 
still  night ;  but  the  comfort  is,  it  draws  nigh 
toward  that  bright  morning  that  shall  make 
amends. 

Your  weary  fellow-pilgrim, 

R.  L. 

It  may  be  Mr.  Ogle  did  not  think  me  in  ear- 
nest when  I  desired  him  to  spy  out  a  her- 
mitage for  me;  but  if  one  remote  enough 
were  on"ered,  1  know  not  how  it  might 
tempt  me.  Meanwhile,  it  is  well ;  but  if 
you  say  anything  of  this,  then  it  will  cost 
you  withal  the  remembering  my  service  to 
him  and  the  rest.  If  you  write  again,  I 
pray  you  load  not  the  back  of  your  letters 
with  any  more  than  this — To  Mr.  Robert 
l.eightnn,  at  Edinburgh ;  for  by  that  it 
•will  not  fail  to  find  me  out,  and  that  an- 
swers the  end,  and  you  see  I  give  you 
example. 


III. 

Sir  :  Though  I  desired  you  to  forbear  for  a 
while  the  pains  of  sending  me  the  book  you 
spoke  of,  I  know  it  was  your  kindness  pressed 


you  to  send  it,  and  I  thank  you.  I  tan  not  ?aii 
I  have  read  it  through,  but  divers  passages 
of  it  I  have  ;  and  though  I  apjirove  the  de- 
sign of  it  and  all  such  writings  so  far  as  I 
understand,  and  what  I  understand  not,  ad- 
venture not  to  judge  of,  but  rather  ?mplicttd 
think  the  best  of  it,  yet  I  must  eonl'ess,  their 
lowest  rules  that  are  laid  as  the  foundation 
of  their  structure,  I  find  of  most  use  ;  and, 
could  I  duly  follow  them,  either  I  should  in- 
sensibly be  raised  to  those  greater  sublimities 
they  speak  of,  if  the  great  lover  of  souls  saw 
any  such  thing  good  lor  me,  or  I  should  hum- 
bly and  contentedly  live  without  them,  which 
possibly  would  do  as  well  till  the  day  come 
of  fullest  and  purest  intuitive  life,  which  I 
live  in  the  hopes  as  not  far  off.  Meanwhile  I 
think  I  have  at  a  venture  given  up  with  the 
contemptible  desires  and  designs  of  this 
present  world,  and  must  have  either  some- 
thing beyond  them  all,  or  nothing  at  all :  and 
though  this  Pop/3op<.mos  v\n,  this  base  clod  of 
earth  I  carry  still  dejiresses  me,  I  am  glad 
that  even  because  it  does  so,  I  loathe  and 
despise  it;  and  would  say,  major  sum,  el  ad 
majora  geiiilus,  quam  ul  manciyium  snn  islis 
corpusculis.  I  have  sent  you  two  little  pie- 
ces of  history,  wherein  it  may  be  you  will 
find  small  relish,  but  the  hazard  is  small ; 
and,  however,  I  pray  you  do  not  send  them 
back  to  me  at  all,  for  I  have  enough  of  that 
kind.  The  one  is  of  a  good  pen,  and  an  ac- 
quaintance and  friend  of  yours,  Paulus  No- 
loneas,  and  his  Life  of  Martin  of  Tours,  I 
think  you  will  relish,  and  I  believe  is  not  in 
your  Vita  Pa/rum.  The  other,  Valerius 
Maximus,  I  conceived,  would  cloy  you  the 
less,  because  it  is  of  so  much  variety  of  se- 
lected examples,  and  the  stages  are  so  short, 
you  may  begin  and  leave  off  where  you  will, 
without  wearying.  But  when  all  is  done, 
there  is  one  only  blessed  story  wherein  our 
souls  must  dwell  and  take  up  their  rest ;  for 
among  all  the  rest  we  shall  not  read,  Venite 
ad  me,  omnes  lassi  et  laboran/es,  et  ego  volis 
requiem  preslabo ;  and  never  any  yet  th.it 
tried  him,  but  found  him  as  good  as  his 
word :  to  whose  sweet  embraces  I  recom- 
mend you,  and  desire  to  meet  you  there. 

Yours, 

R.  L 

Oct.  24,  1059. 


IV. 

Sir:  The  answer  I  intended  your  letter 
was  a  visit,  and  that  not  en  passant.  Though 
I  spoke  and  once  had  thoughts  of  Nexrcasile 
for  some  days,  my  last  purpose  was  no  far- 
ther than  Ingram,  unless  it  had  been  with 
you  to  Wittingham,  to  see  your  honest  neigh- 
bor Mr.  Hume;  which  if  you  think  of  it 
when  you  meet,  it  may  be  you  will  tell  him. 
Nor  was  this  a  mere  thought,  for  I  was  on 
my  way  toward  you  as  far  as  Ginglc/cirk 


LETTERS. 


763 


Whence  I  returned  back  to  my  lodge,  finding 
myself  not  well,  by  reason,  I  think,  of  not 
scarce  having  been  on  horseback  twice  these 
many  months.  I  am  yet  in  a  little  distem- 
per;  of  which,  though  I  apprehend  no  great 
height  nor  long  continuance,  yet  I  am  doubt- 
ful whether  I  shall  again,  this  vacation,  at- 
tempt any  farther  than  Pentland  Hills.  But 
it  is  no  matter  ;  blessed  be  He  in  whom  souls 
may  meet  and  concentre  in  constant  rest,  and 
in  renewed  thoughts  and  desires  intervisit, 
every  day,  in  despite  of  large  lumps  of  earth. 
And,  in  much  greater  matters,  how  little  im- 
ports the  defeat  of  our  purposes  as  to  any- 
thing without  us,  if  it  please  him  to  shine  on 
and  advance  our  great  business  within  !  0  ! 
what  is  all  the  world  to  it,  to  that  bright  pu- 
rity we  aspire  to,  and  the  blessed  eternity  we 
hope  for  !  And  how  great  reason  have  we  to 
say,  nnn  magna  relinquo,  magna  seijuor  !  I 
thank  you  for  the  notice  of  your  capuchin  ; 
but  I  almost  knew  that  he  was  not  here  be- 
fore I  looked.  It  is  true  the  variety  of  his 
book  refreshes  us,  and  by  the  happy  wording, 
the  same  things  not  only  please,  but  some- 
times profit  us  ;  but  they  tell  us  no  new  thing, 
except  it  may  be  some  such  thing  as,  I  con- 
fess, I  understand  not,  of  essential  unions 
and  sleeps  of  the  soul  ;  which  because  I  un- 
derstand not,  would  rather  disorder  and  hin- 
der than  advance  me  :  and  therefore  I  begin 
to  be  unwilling  to  look  over  these  and  such 
like,  unless  I  would  pick  out  here  and  there 
such  tilings  as  T  am  capable  of,  and  not  meet 
with  those  steep  ascents  which  I  dare  not 
venture  on.  But  dear  n  Kempis  is  a  way  to 
it,  and  oh  !  that  I  could  daily  study  more, 
and  attain  more  sublime,  humble  devotion 

there  drawn  to  the  life  most 

soaring  treatises  I  have  ever  yet  met  with, 

find  any  ih  certain  and  solid  use 

that  is  there  not  plainly  and  Di  

proque  est  paucis  opus  et  paucis 

iibris  ad  bona  me  could  we  once 

thoroughly  despise  our  own  base  flesh,  and 
the  vain  opinion  of  the  world,  and  live  in 
the  divine  will,  as  dead  to  all  things  beside, 
and  ffladly  take  the  lowest  room,  he  can,  if 
he  ple.ise,  call  for  us  to  go  up  higher.  Oh, 
but  the  mi^-ery  to  have  sin,  lust,  and  pride] 
and  self-will,  and  self-love,  and  desire  of  es- 
teem among  men,  not  only  living,  but,  alas, 
lively  and  strong  ;  and  yet,  however  it  he, 
let  us  not  faint  in  our  minds,  for  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord  we  shall  destroy  them.  And  in 
the  meantime,  blessed— ever  blessed— be  his 
name,  who  hath  called  us  to  fight  under  his 
royal  standard,  and  given  us  to  resolve  to  live 
and  die  there.  Amen. 

Your  fellow-soldier, 

R.  L. 


V. 

Dear  Biiother  :  I  wrote  to  you  lately,  and 
doubled  vou  with  the  story  of  my  present  and 


daily  growmg  unhealthiness,  which  can  no* 
add  much,  but  something  it  does,  to  ray 
wonted  longings  for  the  evening,  not  without 
hopes  that  it  shall,  likewise  prove  a  bright 
and  sweet  morning.  Meanwhile  it  is  no 
great  matter  where  I  pass  the  lew  hours 
that  remain,  yet  I  told  you  I  had  some 
thoughts  of  spending  them  nearer  you,  but 
have  not  yet  resolved  ;  but  that  and  all  shall 
be  disposed  of  as  is  best.  Mr.  Aird,  who 
gives  you  this,  I  believe,  you  have  heard  me 
speak  of,  as  one  acquainted  with  my  free 
thoughts,  and  that  hath  himself  a  free,  un- 
prejudiced soul,  and  loves  truih  and  devotion 
wheresoever  he  finds  it,  even  in  ihe  greatest 
crowd  of  error  or  superstition  about  it.  He 
hath  a  cell  and  a  provision  among  the  hills 
in  the  border  of  England,  but  is  threatened 
with  a  removal  upon  the  title  of  an  old  in- 
cumbent, who  is  at  London  or  near  it.  If 
you  be  acquainted  with  Dr.  Cozens,  bishop 
of  Durham,  or  can  recommend  him  to  him  by 
any  that  is,  if  he  himself  desire  it,  or  in  any 
other  way  can  assist  him,  I  entreat  it  of  jwU. 
Mrs.  Abernethy  tells  me  her  son  is  in  the 
king's  life  guards :  if  you  meet  with  him, 
and  by  recommending  him  to  my  lord  Ger- 
rard's  favor,  who  commands  it,  or  in  any- 
thing else  you  can  do  him  good,  you  will 
oblige  both  me  and  the  honest  widow.  She 
makes  often  mention  of  you.  Cher  Frere, 
Adieu.  R.  L. 

March  5. 
For  Sir  Kllis  I.eifjhton, 
at  St.  James'*. 


VL 

Dear  Friend  :  I  wish,  after  your  resolu- 
tion taken,  and  I  think  -tit  Oc-;  you  had 
barred  the  door  on  all  suggestions  from  with- 
out and  within,  that  might  have  changed 
or  in  the  least  disturbed  it.  Sure  I  am 
the  reason  that  convinced  you  is  still  the 
same,  that  what  you  may  do,  you  may  also 
promise  if  it  be  required  ;  and  1  believe  the 
design  was  so  like  to  make  you  serviceable 
to  God,  and  to  souls  that  he  hath  bought, 
that  you  would  never  have  had  just  reason 
to  repent  it.  The  like  I  dare  not  say  of  you 
now  recoiling;  and  if  I  might  again  prevail 
with  you,  I  entreat  you  to  readvise  the  thinf 
between  God  and  your  own  heart,  and  tha» 
cleared,  as  much  as  you  can,  from  all  miiit. 
both  of  the  fancy  of  others  and  your  own 
melancholy.  If  you  would  meet  me  at  Cul- 
ross  or  Lilhgow  any  time  the  next  week,  and 
send  me  word  what  day  or  hour  you  choose, 
I  would  endeavor  not  to  fail,  or  if  coming  to 
Edinburgh  to  speak  with  you,  though  at  this 
time  well  I  can  not,  might  be  likely  to  do 
any  help  toward  dispelling  the  cloud  that 
hath  overcast  your  mind,  I  would  not  grudge 
the  pains.  All  I  can  do  at  tiiis  distance,  is  to 
look  up  to  Heaven,  who  alone  i)oweriully 
can  do  it,  and  in  his  blessed  ha.ia  I  leave  it. 


T64 


APPENDIX. 


iml  you,  nnd  myself,  and  all  that  concerns  us, 
and  all  the  world  :  and  whatsoever  you  do, 
never  doubt  the  unalterable  alFection  "of 
Your  friend, 

R.  L. 


VII. 

Sir  :  What  the  opportunity  is  that  may 
ensjage  you  where  you  are,  seeino-  vou  ex- 
press it  not,  I  can  not  particularly  know:  but 
whatsoever  it  is,  I  shall  be  glad  if  it  suit  your 
mind,  and  if  I  could  do  you  anv  real  further- 
ance in  any  such  thing,  I  think'l  need  not  tell 
vou  how  readv  the  occasion  would  find  me. 
here  I  see  nothing  at  present  worth  the 
thinking  on  for  you,  unless  you  have  a  mind 
to  try  a  course  of  tilting  for 'a  regency  in  phi- 
losophy, as  they  call  it,  which  is  likely  to  be 
vacant  here  very  shortly,  Mr.  Wiseman  being 
upon  the  point  of  leaving  it  and  going  to 
sleep.  If  you  find  a  stomach  to  it,  all  I  can 
promise  is,  endeavor  to  see  fair  play  ;  and  if 
you  make  one  you  would  be  sure  to  win,  if  it 
depended  on  the  wishes  of 
Sir, 

Your  Friend  and  Servant. 


VIII. 

Sir  :  1  should  please  myself  very  much  in 
doing  anything  toward  your  repose  ;  but 
there  is  nothing  such  as  I  wish  within  my 
reach,  nor  wiihin  my  view.  The  humanity 
place  will  either  not  be  vacant,  or  if  it  be,  I 
think  we  shall  break  it  for  some  reason.  Of 
the  other  I  wrote  to  you,  you  can  only  judge 
whether  it  suits  your  genius  and  inclination  ; 
neither,  if  it  did,  have  I  power  to  promise 
anything  but  heavy  endeavors  if  I  see  it  fea- 
sible, having  no  assurance  of  prevailing.  But 
one  thing  I  am  sure  of,  and  so  are  you,  and  it 
is  enough,  that  to  them  that  fear  the  Lord 
and  trust  in  him,  no  good  thing  shall  be 
wanting.  The  choosing  of  some  dubious 
steps  of  our  way  may  now  and  then  be  a 
little  troublesome,  but  the  comfort  is,  the 
journey  will  be  quickly  done,  and  then  we 
hope  to  be  where  there  are  no  desires  nor  de- 
liberations of  change  of  quarters.    I  am. 

Yours. 

I  suppose  you  have  heard  of  Mr.  Andrew 
Grai/s  death.  He  has  got  the  start  of  us, 
but  not  for  long.  I  am  likely  to  preach 
tomorrow,  God  willing,  in  our  own  hall, 
where  for  the  present  meets  one  of  the 
town  congregations. 


IX. 

Sir:  1  think  you  know  the  reason  of  my 
5crbe<iring  to  write;  for  you  can  not  but 


know  that  letters  sent  by  the  post  are  brok.'C 
open  very  frequently,  if  not  constantly  of 
late  ;  and  other  way  I  know  none.  I  often 
entreated  that  favor  of  my  John  to  inquire  at 
your  sister's  how  you  were,  if  she  did  hear, 
and  if  she  knew  any  safe  convey  of  letters  to 
you  ;  but  he  did  as  he  uses  to  do  in  divers  of 
the  few  letter  services  I  have  for  him,  and  I 
am  beholden  to  his  neglects.  Meanwhile, 
my  not  forgetting  you,  you  may  be  assured 
of,  while  I  shall  continue  to  remember  my- 
self. When  I  think  how  little  or  nothing  it 
is  my  letters  speak  other  than  some  short 
word,  dropped  as  it  comes,  reflecting  to  you 
some  of  your  own  thoughts,  I  am  pained 
with  your  reckoning  them  anything  at  all. 
Your  imparting  the  particulars  relating  to 
yourself,  though  in  extrinsic  things,  I  do  very 
heartily  thank  you  for  ;  for  such  communica- 
tions are  a  redoubling  the  pleasure  in  them* 
and  seeing  our  great  Father's  love  descends 
to  the  ordering  of  the  low  concernments  of 
our  life,  we  were  very  unwise  and  ungrate- 
ful not  to  observe  them,  who  hath  made  fiies 
with  so  much  art,  and  is  truly  ma^nus  tn 
minimis.  Courage,  it  shall  be  well  :"we  fol- 
low a  conquering  general ;  yea,  who  hath 
conquered  already  ;  et  gui  semel  vicil  -pro  no- 
bis, semper  vicet  in  nobis.  For  myself  at 
present,  I  am,  as  we  use  to  say,  that  is,  this 
little  contemptible  lodge  of  mine  is,  not  very 
well  ;  but  that  will  pass  some  way  or  other, 
as  it  is  best  ;  and  even  while  the  indisposi- 
tion lasts,  oh  !  how  much  doth  it  heighten 
the  sweet  relish  of  peace  within,  of  which  I 
can  not  speak  highly;  for  to  you  I  speak  just 
as  it  is.  But  metiiiiiks  I  find  a  growing  con- 
tempt of  all  this  world,  and  consequently 
some  further  degrees  of  that  quiet  which  is 
only  subject  to  disturbance  by  our  inordinate 
fancies  and  desires,  and  receding  from  the 
blessed  centre  of  our  rest:  for  hurries  of  the 
world  you  know  the  way,  Isa.  xxvi.  20;  and 
in  these  retiring  rooms  we  meet  and  be  safe 
and  quiet.  That  you  may  speak  of  the  shock 
seeming  to  threaten  your  order,  I  an  not 
afraid  of  at  all,  neither  for  you  nor  myself, 
nor  the  generality  of  the  rest  ;  but  you  may 
be  assured,  that,  in  that  case,  the  lot  of  those 
in  my  posture  will  be  the  same  with  yours. 
Sed  Jehovah  regnat,  circuitor  Gcnlis  et  cum 
reliquis  etiam  insula.  Farewell,  dear  brother. 

Yours 


X. 

Dear  Friend  :  Whether  you  know  the  par- 
ticular purport  of  the  enclosed  you  scni  to 
me,  I  know  not  ;  but  it  is  to  quit  ten  pounds 
sterling  supposed  due  to  me  from  the  party 
that  pleads  inability  :  and  doubtless  your  reo- 
ommendation,  togeiher  with  the  charity  oi 
the  thing,  if  it  shall  appear  to  be  so,  woult 
easily  give  law  to  me  f^or  a  greater  sum  tha; 
that.    But  the  truth  is,  there  is  a  main  ni^ 


LETTERS. 


765 


take  in  the  business,  for  it  is  not  payable  to 
me,  and  therefore  no  way  in  my  power,  for 
my  lord  Bargeny  hath  a  lease  of  all  my  little 
dues  in  these  parts  for  nineteen  years,  upon 
very  easy  terms  as  they  inform  me ;  yet 
whether  he  will  consider  that  so  as  to  make 
such  an  abatement  of  what  is  now  his  due 
and  not  mine,  I  Jan  not  tell  ;  neither  have  I 
any  power  to  carve  upon  what  is  his  without 
paying  it  back,  or  some  way  corapensing  it 
to  him  myself ;  and  yet  even  that  I  shall  not 
decline,  if,  after  you  and  I  both  know  the 
more  particular  state  of  the  business  and  the 
person,  you  shall  judge  it  reasonable.  This 
is  all  I  can  say  to  that  at  present  ;  and  I  will 
not  enter  upon  any  other  discourse  by  this  ; 
for  the  truth  is,  there  is  little  to  be  said  and 
much  to  be  done.  You  and  1  are,  I  trust, 
upon  a  design  that  will  reflect  a  very  low  es- 
timate upon  all  below  it,  and  it  shall  cer- 
tainly succeed  if  we  be  careful  to  stick  to  our 
Leader,  and  follow  him.    Pray  for 

Your  poor  friend  and  servant, 

R.  L. 

March,  1660. 
To  the  Rev.  Mr.  Aird. 


XL 

Dear  Friicnd  :  I  am  very  sorry  for  the  in- 
disposition you  are  under,  but  I  assure  you  I  do 
not  value  myself,  nor  anything  I  sav  or  do  ei- 
ther upon  this  or  any  other  occasion,  worth 
your  pains  <;f  writing,  far  less  on  a  journey 
hither;  yet  1  should  gladly  enjoy  your  mis- 
take in  thinking  otherwise,  if  I  was  in  a  pos- 
ture capable  of  the  pleasure  others  have  of 
your  abode  under  my  roof  for  some  longer 
time.  The  persons  you  mention  in  order  to 
that  affair,  &c.,  I  have  not  seen  nor  heard 
anything  from  any  of  them  since  my  last,  nor 
expect  that  I  shai'i  till  the  beginning  June, 
at  Edin'iurgh,  where  I  intend,  God  willing, 
to  be,  and  desire,  if  it  may  be,  to  see  you 
there.  I  have  thoughts  of  going  thither 
somewhat  before  that  time,  and  therefore,  if 
I  did  not  signify  such  to  you,  1  fear  you 
might  miss  me  if  you  came  hither. 

As  for  the  business,  it  is  very  safe,  with  all 
our  other  interests  of  lime  and  eternity,  in  our 
blessed  Father's  hand,  of  all  fathers  the  wisest 
and  the  best.  He,  I  am  sure,  can  mould  ei- 
ther your  iieart  (;r  theirs  you  have  to  do  with- 
al, as  he  thinks  fit,  and  it  shall  be  as  it  is  best 
to  be  ;  therefore  if  we  were  together,  I  should 
not  very  eagerly  dispute  the  matter  with  you, 
far  less  will  1  by  scribbling.  Let  your  heart 
keep  near  to  him,  and  be  daily  purging  out 
all  that  may  interpose  and  obstruct  our  closest 
union,  and  we  have  nothing  else  to  care  for. 
This  moment  is  posting  away,  and  that  bles- 
sed day  is  hastening  forward  that  shall  com- 
plete that  union. 

Pray  for  your  lame  fellow-traveller, 

R.  L. 


I  should  chide  you,  if  I  could  dc  it  sharply 
enough,  for  entertaining  the  least  thought 
of  any  such  jealousy,  as  I  think  very  in- 
congruous with  the  strength  and  mutual 
confidence  of  solid  friendship. 

Received  at  Carmarthen,  May  14,  1668. 


XIL 

Sir  :  Waving  all  other  discourse  till  meet- 
ing,  though  you  are  possibly  enamored  w  th 
your  vacancy,  yet  if  you  find  any  re'urn  of 
appetite  to  employment  m  the  niiMstry.  ] 
am  once  again  to  offer  you  an  invl.ation,  for 
there  is  a  place  or  two  now  vacant  at  my  dis- 
posal. It  is  true  it  is  by  the  rerr.oval  of  the 
former  incumbents  against  their  will,  but  you 
are  not  guilty  of  that  by  succeeding  them, 
nor  I  by  giving  a  call  to  any  that  will  ;  for 
you  may  be  sure  they  are  not  witiiin  the 
bounds  I  have  charge  of,  but  in  other  dio- 
ceses. There  is  one  place  indeed  in  my  pre- 
cincts now  vacant,  and  yet  undisposed  of,  by 
the  voluntary  remove  of  a  young  man  that 
was  in  it  to  a  better  benefice,  and  this  is 
likewise  in  my  hand  ;  but  it  is  so  wretchedly 
mean  a  provision,  that  I  am  ashamed  to 
name  it — little,  I  think,  above  five  hundred 
marks  a  year.  If  the  many  instances  of  that 
kind  you  have  read  have  made  you  in  love 
with  voluntary  poverty,  there  you  may  have 
it ;  but  wheresoever  you  are  or  shall  be  for 
the  rest  of  your  time,  I  hope  you  are  advan- 
cing in  that  blessed  poverty  of  spirit  that  is 
the  only  true  height  and  greatness  of  spirit 
in  all  the  world  entitling  to  a  crown,  "  for 
theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Oh  !  what 
are  the  scraps  that  the  great  ones  of  this 
world  are  scratnbling  for  comjiared  wiih  that 
pretension  !  I  pray  you,  as  you  find  an  op- 
portunity, though  possibly  little  or  no  incli- 
nation to  it,  yet  bestow  one  line  or  two  upon 
Your  poor  friend  and  servant, 

R.  L. 

Edinburgh,  July  5,  1G62. 
To  Mr.  James  Aird. 


XIIL 

Sir  :  I  long  to  hear  how  you  dispose  of 
yourself,  if  it  be  determined.  If  still  in  sus- 
pense, I  still  wish  you  the  favorable  impres- 
sion of  that  hand  to  which  I  know  you  have 
delivered  up  yourself ;  if  you  be  resolved 
upon  a  removal,  and  incline  to  the  like  charge 
here  upon  a  fair  call,  I  desire  to  know  it,  by 
the  first  opportunity,  for  I  hear  there  is  some- 
what of  that  kind  in  the  west  likely  to  be  at 
my  disposal  :  I  would  not  have  this  unsettle 
your  pretension  to  stay  where  you  are,  if  you 
find  anything  within  you,  for  thorns  grow 
everywhere,  and  irom  all  things  below  :  and 


766 


APPENDIX. 


to  a  sou\  transplanted  out  of  itself  into  the 
root  of  Jesse,  peace  grows  everywhere  too, 
from  Him  who  is  called  our  peace,  and  whom 
we  still  tind  the  more  to  be  so,  the  more  en- 
tirely we  live  to  iiitn,  beings  dead  to  this 
world,  and  sell",  and  all  things  besides  him. 
Oh  !  wiien  shall  it  be  ?  Well,  let  all  the 
world  go  as  it  will,  let  this  be  our  only  pur- 
suit and  ambition,  and  to  all  other  things  fiat 
voluntas  tua  Vninine — that  both  is  painful  in 
some  instance  is  the  dubiousness. 


XIV. 

Dear  Friend  :  Being  at  present  not  well, 
I  shall  say  no  more  but  that  I  take  these 
communications  as  a  singular  act  of  the 
truest  kindness  and  friendship,  and  heartily 
thank  you  for  them,  and  am  glad  to  find  that 
there  are  some  souls  in  this  world  truly  sick 
of  it  all  ;  that  being,  in  my  mind,  a  very 
happy  symptom  and  prognostic  of  a  prevail- 
ing health — such  a  degree  of  it,  at  least,  as 
may  be  had  in  the  diseased,  defiled  cottages 
wherein  we  dwell,  and  may  be  to  us  a  cer- 
tain pledge  of  real  beginning  of  thatfuU  health 
we  look  for  at  our  removal,  and  therefore 
have  so  much  reason  to  long  and  wish  ear- 
nestly and  sigh  and  groan  for  that  day,  and 
yet  have  no  less  reason  to  wait  patiently  for 
»t.    Pray  for 

i!'our  poor  friend, 
R.  L. 

March  21,  1669. 


XV. 

Dear  Friend  :  I  was  refreshed  by  the  ac- 
count of  your  feast  in  your  former,  of  which 
I  trust  I  was  participant  as  to  the  blessing  of 
it,  for  though  absent,  I  was  heartily  with  you 
in  desire.  The  accident  your  letter  acquaints 
me  with,  I  think  concerns  you  little  or  noth- 
ing ;  for  if  there  was  any  offence  in  the  print- 
ing it,  it  rests  upon  him  that  procured  it,  and 
the  printer  ;  but  for  instructing  your  own  flock 
in  what  way  you  judge  most  accommodated 
to  them,  who  can  blame  you  ?  However, 
when  I  meet  with  the  archbishop,  I  shall, 
God  willing,  represent  the  business  to  him 
as  it  is,  if  I  find  it  needful  ;  but  if  you  think 
it  hath  come  to  his  knowledge,  and  that  with 
with  some  misreport  and  disguise,  I  believe 
it  might  not  be  amiss  for  you  to  give  him  the 
true  and  ingenuous  account  yourself  by  a  let- 
ter, for,  it  may  be,  some  weeks  may  pass  be- 
fore I  see  him. 

But  oh  !  how  quickly  will  all  these  things 
be  gone,  and  even  at  present  a  look  beyond 
ihem  makes  them  disappear  !  Let  us  man- 
age our  ways  as  prudently  and  profitably  to 
our  main  end  as  we  can,  and  let  the  world 


descant  as  they  will.  Blessed  are  ihe  upright 
in  heart,  for  their  great  Judge  and  Master 
sees  into  the  heart,  and  can  not  mistake 
I  hem.    Pray  for 

Your  poor  friend, 
R.  L. 


XVI. 

Dear  Friend  :  I  do  very  much  commena 
the  activeness  of  your  charity  in  the  journey 
you  have  taken  ;  for  the  success,  though  I 
had  much  desire  and  some  little  hopes  of 
better,  yet  1  suspected  how  it  might  prove, 
unless  this  one  consideration,  the  extreme 
necessity  of  this  church  at  this  time,  did  pre- 
vail with  our  friend  to  do  violence  to  him- 
self I  hope  you  both  pardon  me  for  the  very 
reason  that  1  moved  it,  and  thai  I  am  but  to 
be  angry  or  impatient  at  it,  I  could  not  par- 
don myself  I  look  to  Him  who  makes  every- 
thing beautiful  in  its  season,  and  remember 
that  saying  of  his,  "  Your  i.me  is  always 
ready,  but  my  lime  is  not  yet."  As  we  are 
to  forbear  forbidden  fruits  at  all  times,  so  not 
to  pull  the  best  fruit  in  his  garden  till  he  al- 
lows us,  and  some  way  signifies  he  thinks 
them  duly  ripe  for  use. 

I  do  heartily  thank  you  for  the  kindness  of 
communicating  the  enclosed  letters  ;  for  next 
to  what  is  within  me,  the  painful  reflecting 
I  have  on  this  world  is,  that  there  is  so  small 
a  part  ol'  mankind  in  whose  breasts  such 
thoughts  are  stirring,  and  am  somewhat  re- 
lieved when  I  meet  with  anything  of  that 
kind,  and  long  to  meet  with  more,  or  be 
gone  where  no  such  wishes  are  needful.  0  ! 
this  dark  night  is  very  long  ;  but  blessed  hope 
of  that  bright  morning  without  cloud  that  is 
hastening  forward.  Well,  no  more,  but  pray 
for 

Y^our  poor  friend  and  servant, 
R.  L. 

I  beseech  you  pain  me  not  again  with  so  ex- 
cessively canonical  a  superscription  of  your 
letters,  for  there  is  no  need  of  it,  though 
they  were  to  pass  through  twenty  hands. 
Since  I  wrote  this,  I  received  another  of 
yours  for  Mr.  Blair.  The  truth  is,  for  the 
next  year  lam  already  engaged  to  one  that 
both  needs  and  deserves  a  little  help,  and 
am  bespoke  for  another  to  succeed  the  year 
after,  but  have  not  absolutely  promised, 
and  I  therefore  am  at  a  little  more  liberty 
to  consider  it  against  that  time,  if  it  please 
God  to  continue  me  here  so  long  :  for  the 
youth  you  name  you  may  be  assured,  if  il 
can  fall  on  that  side,  his  relation  to  our 
brother,  and  your  recommendation,  will 
have  very  much  weight  to  make  it  so,  and 
that  is  all  I  can  say  of  it  at  present. 

For  my  Rev.  brother  Mr.  Aird,  > 
Minister  at  Turriburn.  \ 


LETTERS. 


7fl7 


XVII. 

Sir  :  I  wish  I  could  punctually  resolve  you 
concerning  that  freedom  of  commencing  to 
that  excellent  work  which  you  desire;  but 
the  truth  is,  though  I  believe  they  are  not 
there  so  straightlaced  by  far  as  here,  yet  you 
havmg  never  exercised  at  all  in  public,  I  am 
not  sure  they  would  not  all  inquire  concerning 
that,  but  it  is  likely  nothing  would  be  re- 
quired which,  if  you  be  not  superstitious  on 
the  other  hand,  would  trouble  you.  If  you 
thought  fit  in  the  meantime  to  spend  some 
weeks  in  that  place  you  speak  of,  and  to  use 
the  liberty  of  it  in  exercising,  it  might  possi- 
bly pass  for  what  you  would  avoid  in  the 
other.  And  if  a  fair  invitation  shall  come, 
he  to  whom  you  have  resigned  yourself  will 
direct  you. 

Sir, 

Your  very  affectionate  friend. 

To  my  own  motions  or  stay,  as  I  am  in  a 
most  quiet  indifferency  myself,  you,  I  am 
sure,  may  much  more  easily  be  so.  We 
are  at  sea,  and  can  not  expect  still  to  sail 
within  speech,  no  nor  within  sight,  but  we 
hope  to  arrive  at  the  same  "fair  havens." 


XVIII. 

Sir  :  There  is  one  here  come  from  Ireland 
to  inquire  after  able  young  men  for  the  min- 
istry, whom  they  invite  thither,  sending  them 
transport-nione)',  and  assuring  them  of  a  lib- 
eral and  certain  provision  there.  He  they 
Bent  hath  been  with  me,  and  was  desirous  to 
know  if  I  could  recommend  any.  It  came 
into  my  thoughts  to  give  you  notice,  that  if 
you  find  any  inclination  that  way,  I  may 
know.  I  will  not  advise  you,  much  less  press 
you  in  it,  but  leave  you  wholly  to  the  free- 
dom of  your  own  thoughts  and  ciioice,  and  to 
the  best  hand  to  determine  them.  I  believe 
they  expect  of  those  that  go,  an  engaging  to 
a  pastoral  charge  ;  but  wliether  for  some  time 
they  may  not  give  a  little  liberty  to  some  or 
to  one  at  least  in  a  freer  posture  to  preach,  or 
whether  their  pastoral  engagement  be  so  in- 


dissolubly  fast  as  here,  I  know  not.  You 
will  think  on  that,  and  if  you  judge  it  worth 
so  much,  let  me  hear  from  you  how  you  rel- 
ish it.  Hovirever,  I  wish  you  as  to  myself 
much  happy  success  and  advancement  in 
your  great  design. 

Your  friend  to  serve  you. 


XIX. 

Sir  ;  The  Lords  of  the  Council  having  ap- 
pointed some  ministers  from  other  parts,  to 
preach  in  such  churches  within  the  diocese 
of  Glasgow  as  do  most  need  their  help,  I 
desire  the  Reverend  Mr.  James  Aird,  minister 
of  Torry,  to  bestow  his  pains  in  that  circuit 
that  lies  eastward  from  Hamilton  or  therea- 
bouts, and  particularly  in  the  kirk  of  Car- 
luke  ;  not  doubting  that  tiie  ininister  thereof, 
and  others  in  the  like  case,  will  very  gladly 
receive  and  earnestly  entreat  what  help  he 
can  do  toward  the  bringing  of  their  people  to 
frequent  the  public  ordinances,  and  the  remo- 
ving of  their  prejudices  and  calming  of  their 
passions,  that  they  may  with  one  heart  wor- 
ship that  one  Lord  whose  name  we  all  pro- 
fess to  love  and  honor. 

R.  Leighton. 

Glasgow,  Sept.  17,  1670. 

This  is  to  recommend  to  the  kind  recep- 
tion and  assistance  of  the  gentlemen  and 
ministers,  to  whose  parishes  he  shall  resort, 
for  preaching  of  the  gospel,  within  the  dio- 
cese of  Glasgow,  our  Reverend  brother,  Mr. 
Lawrence  Charieris,  Minister  at  Bar,  being 
nominated  and  appointed  by  the  Lords  of 
Council,  with  some  others  from  other  parts 
for  ihat  effect. 

Glasgow,  Sept.  20,  1670. 

To  Mr.  Charteris  are  recommended,  within 
the  presbytery  of  Fasfley,  these  kirks, 

Neelson,  Kilharchtxy — vacant. 

Likewise,  if  his  he^lfh  permit, 

Killelen,  and  Au'»wi-?»t.  -though  not  va- 
cant. 

F  Leightoh. 

Oct.  19,  1670. 


/ 


INDEX 

or  THE 

TEXTS  OF  SCRIPTURE. 


Ch  Via  Page. 
Genesis. 

i.  1   583 

i.  2   151 

I.  3   382 

i.  II   124 

i.  15   152,  171,  632 

i.  17   698 

i.  26   401 

i.  ,  ii.,  iii   670 

ii.  4   684 

iii.  6   422 

iii.  15   99 

iii.  16   203 

vi   308,  481 

vi.  3   268,  269 

vi.  5                           194,  599 

viii.  21   199 

xi   542 

xi.  5,  7   267 

xii.  4   68 

xiii.  8   117 

XV.  12   337 

xvii.  3   406 

xviii.  21   267 

xviii.  27   595 

XX.  11   361 

xxi.  9   319 

xxii.  12   83 

XXV.  5   77 

xxvii.  27                      140,  218 

xxviti.  15   412 

xxix.  20   333 

XXX.  2   120 

xxxi.  7   223 

xxxii.  10  H   611 

xxxix.  9                178,  224,  702 

xlix   116 

Xlix.  7   227 

xhx.  10   98 

Exodus. 

iii.  8   267 

iv.  22   414 

XV   493 

IV.  II   592 

xvi.  23   629 

xix.  5                          150,  626 

xix  5,  6   148 

XX.  1,2   619 

xxiii.  1   639 

xxiii.  12   629 

xxviii.  36,38   192 

rxx.25    477 

97 


Ch.Veb.  Paob. 

xxxi.  13,  14   629 

xxxiii.  3   567 

xxxiv.  6   268,  548 

xxxiv.  28   620 

Leviticus. 

X.3   320 

xvi   192 

xix.  2   603 

xix.  3,  37   622 

xLx.  17  216,  6.33 

xix.  30   629 

XX.  7   603 

xxi.  8   603 

xxi.  20   294 

XXV.  2   629 

xxvi.  4-12   565 

xxvi.  41   448 

Numbers. 

xi.44   106 

xiii.  30   103 

xxiv.  17   460 

Deuteronomy. 

iv.  15   626 

V.  22   620 

V.  28   576 

vi.  5    561 

vii.  6   183 

vii.  7,  8   158 

X.  14,  15   148 

xi.  12   231 

xxvii.  1,  12,  24   565 

xxix.  29    620 

xxxii.  2   120,  329 

xxxii.  4   349 

xxxii.  8   642 

xxxii.  18   684 

xxxii.  21   1,57 

xxxiii.  29   554 

Judges. 

ix.  20   171,  486 

X.  14   393 

xviii.  24    534 

XX.  2   140 

r.  Samttel. 

i.  II   .338 

ii.  4,  5   .536 

ii.  30   178,  334,  632 

iv.  21  ;.  4.52 

vii.  16   626 


Ch.Veb.  P*oi. 

xiv.  38   140 

XXX   372 

XXX.  6   86 

II.  Samuel. 

vi.  22   107 

X.  12   610 

xix.  35   132 

xxiii.  5   535 

I.  Kings. 

iv.  29   507 

iv.  33   199 

vii!  27   601 

X    31   577 

xs    13   247 

xvlii.  17   226 

xix.  12   362 

xix.  20   154 

-xxii   398 

xxii.  19   233 

II.  Kings. 

vi.  16   351' 

vi.  23    572' 

vi.  33   374 

X.  16   401 

xvii   4.52' 

xix.  33   493 

I.  Chronicles. 

xxii.  16   343 

xxix.  14  101,  427 

xxix.  15   406 

II.  Chronicles. 

xvi.  9    231 

xvii.  6   521 

xxix.  30   452 

Ezra. 

iv.  15   169 

ix   725 

Nehemiah. 

ix.  27   554 

Job. 

i.  6   682- 

V.  6,7    447 

V.  7   465 

vi.  19   573 

vii.  20   44» 


770 


INDEX. 


C'H.  Ver.  Paor. 

viii.  7   349 

viii.  8   524 

Tiii.  9    5'24 

Tiii.  13   249 

viii.  14,  15   534 

ix.  13   545 

ix.  30   448 

LX.  30,  31   66,  400 

X.  11,  12  536 

X.  17   552 

xi.  8,9   523 

xi.  12   523 

xii.  8,  9, 12   523 

xiii.  4   244 

xiii.  15   372,  466 

xiii.  25   395 

xiv.  1,  2   122 

XV.  25    247 

xvi.  20   .595 

xvii.  14   195 

xviii.  5   153 

xviii.  7   492 

xix.  23   466 

XX   269 

XX.  11   241 

XX.  29   613 

xxii.  21   226,  486 

xxii.  25   553 

xxvi.  7   114 

xxvii.  8  

xxviii.  7  


  534 

  119 

xxviii.  28   176 

XXX.  24  

XXX.  26  

xxxi.  1  


  241 

  460 

  195 

xxxi.  23   361 

xxxi.  24. . .  i  

xxxi.  27  

xxxi.  29  

xxxiii.  17  

xxxiii.  28  

XXX iv.  2  


553 
626 
633 
536 
687 
130 


xxxiv.  13-15   570 

xxxiv.  19   109 

xxxiv.  22   229 

xxxiv.  29                     226,  516 

xxxiv.  31   395 

xxxiv.  31.32   446 

XXXV.  9,  10   53 

xxxvi.  19                       241,  536 

xxxviii   543 

xxxviii.  6,  7   673 

xxxviii.  7   682 

xxxviii.  10,  11   495 

xxxviii.  28   119 

xl.  9, 12   493 


Psalms. 


196, 


.  69, 
170, 


4  •. 

6.. 
7. . 
10. 


76, 


11   no,  178,5.32, 

12  

1  


130 
619 
498 
229 
264 
491 
602 
142 
360 
120 
601 
260 
535  1 


Oh.  Ver.  Pjiok. 

iii.  6   466 

iv   357 

iv.  1   357 

iv.  2   359 

iv.  3   69,360,607 

iv.  4   361,  568 

iv.  5   362 

iv.  6   363,  566 

iv.  6,  7   72 

iv.  7    77,  364 

v.  1   232 

v.  3   607 

v.  4   326 

V.  8   167 

vi.  1   567 

vi.  6   474 

vi.  7   465 

viii   11.3,  381 

viii,  3   353 

viii.  5   550 

ix,  6   178 

ix.  7,  8   549 

ix.  13   264 

X.5   88 

X.9   345 

X.  17   232 

xi.  2   230 

xi.  4   229,  601 

xi.  5-7   230 

xii.  2   221 

xii.  5   299 

xiii   269 

xiv.  2   194 

xiv.  3   157 

xiv.  4   138 

xiv.  5   224 

xiv.  15   119 

XV   627 

XV.  2   222 

XV,  3   174 

xvi.  2   297,  630 

xvi.  4   395 

xvi.  5   230,  349 

xvi.  5,  6   689 

xvi.  8   183,  291,  486,  608 

xvi.  11   482 

xvii   113 

xvii.  1   221 

xviii.  1   81,  173,  300,  357 

xviii.  2   360 

xviii.  11   699 

xviii.  29   286 

xviii.  30   349 

xviii.  32   165 

xix   173,  362 

xix.  1   156,  385,  696 

xix.  4   202,  500 

xix.  5   564 

xix.  9   361 

xxi.  3    231 

xxii   98 

xxii.  2   515 

xxii.  2-f   235 

xxii.  4   358,  500 

xxii.  6   337 

xxiii   245,  385 

xxiii.  2   201 

xxiii.  3   200 

xxiii,  4   467,  500 

xxiv.  1,  3,  7   605 

xxiv.  1,  6   148 


Ch.Ver.  Paoi 
xxiv.  7   490 

xxiv.  10   618 

XXV   495 

XXV.  1   602 

XXV.  7   160,  635 

XXV,  11   96,  592 

xxv.  14    98,  236 

XXV.  22   600 

xxvi.  4   222 

xxvi.  8   452,  462 

xxvi.  9     698 

xxvi.  11   592 

xxvii.  1   151,  245,  372,  463 

xxvii.  4   398,  570 

xxvii.  8,  9   446 

xxvii.  11  319,  341 

xxvii.  13   86 

xxix.  4, ,    154 

xxix.  10   499 

XXX.  1   356 

XXX.  5   34C 

XXX.  7   516,  566,  571 

xxx.  12   168,  223 

xxxi.  13   451 

xxxi,  15   451,  549 

xxxi.  22   143 

xxxi.  23   177 

xxxii   357,  365 

xxxii.  1   92,  365,  510,  613 

xxxii.  1,  5   613 

xxxii.  2   366 

xxxii.  3-5   368 

xxxii.  3-5   568 

xxxii.  5   .551 

xxxii.  6-11   369 

xxxii.  9   196 

xxxiii,  5   332 

xxxiii.  6   382,  672 

xxxiii.  11   342 

xxxiii.  18   496 

xxxiii.  19   393 

xxxiv   573 

xxxiv.  1    76 

xxxiv.  1,  2   629 

xxxiv.  2   93,  347 

xxxiv.  5   230,  391 

xxxiv.  8          132,  360,  476,  573 

xxxiv.  8,  9   177 

xxxiv.  13,  14  219,  220 

xxxiv.  15   596 

xxxiv.  15,  16   227 

xxxiv.  18   229,  327 

xxxiv.  19   694 

xxxiv.  19,  20   241 

xxxiv.  19,21   184 

XXXV.  15   318 

XXXV.  16;   167 

XXXV.  28   223 

xxxvi.  5   342,  5.53 

xxxvi.  9   153,  689 

xxxvii.  3   579 

xxxvii.  4   547 

xxxvii.  5   553 

xxxvu.  30,  31   196,  221 

xxxviii,  3   544 

xxxviii.  4   190 

xxxviii.  9   596 

xxxviii.  12-15   195,  223 

xxxviii.  24. . . , ,   36C 

xxxix   385 

xxxix.  1   385 


INDEX. 


771 


Ch.  Vkb.  Paoe. 

XXX ix.  2-4   388 

xxxix.  4   122 

xxxix.  5  19»,  389 

xxxix.  6   391,  649 

xxxix.  7   392 

xxxix.  8-11   394 

xxxLx.  9   83,  191,  544 

XXXIX.  11   122 

xxxix.  12   395 

xxxix.  13   396 

xl.  1   235,  550 

xl.  1-4   572,  573 

xl.2,  3   160 

xl.  3   496 

xl.  6.  7   263 

xl.  7   189,  259 

xl.  8   564,  609 

xl.  8,  9   221,  222 

xl.  12   190,  191,  538,  599 

xl.  17   231 

xli.  10   197 

xlii   372 

xlii.  2   570 

xlii.  2,  4   134 

xlii.  5   246,  393 

xlii.  7   83 

xlii.  8   465 

xlii.  10   318 

xlv.  2  105,  147 

xlv.  6   148 

xlv.  7....   477 

xlv.  8   477 

-xlv.  10,  11   Ill 

xlv.  13   135,  206 

xlv.  16   684 

xlvi   73,  362,  466,  499 

xlvi.  1   351 

xlvi.  2  84,  143 

xlvi.  2,  5   245 

xlvii.  7, !)   353 

xlix.  5,  15   496 

xlix.  11   208 

xlix.  12   389 

xlix.  20   532 

1   138,  362 

1.  14,23   138 

I.  15    .596 

1.  19    221 

1.  2o   220 

1.21   552 

1,  22   229 

1.  23    138,  518,  526 

li   483,  527 

li.  4   544,  5.52 

li.  5   624 

li.  8  518,  613 

li.  10,  12   635  i 

li.  17   139,  213 

li.  18   600 

Hi.  2   220 

lii.  3   345 

Hi,  6   532' 

Iv.  17   234 

ly.  22   342,  .596 

Ivi.  6   251 

Ivii.  7   355  I 

Ivil.  8    246,  627  I 

Iviii.  1   4S5 

Ixi.  2   230,  392 

Ixii.  5,  6   245 

Ixii.  8....   232,  233 


Ca.  Veb.  Page. 

Ixii.  9   122,  390,  463 

Ixiii   468 

Ixiii.  3   176,  231.  468 

Ixiii.  7   207 

Ixv.  1   399 

Ixv.  2   595 

Ixv.  7   226 

Ixvi   69 

Ixvi.  18   228 

Ixviii.  1   347 

Ixviii.  13.    455 

Ixix.  9   168 

Ixxi.  9   132 

Ixxi.  20   264 

Ixxii.  3   171,  454 

Ixxii.  10   87 

Ixxiii   151 

Ixxiii.  1   703 

Ixxiii.  26   86,  465 

Ixxiii.  27   261,  681 

Ixxiii.  28   298 

Ixxv.  6,  7   170 

Ixxvi.  7   190,  362 

Ixxvi.  10   490 

Ixxvii   466 

Ixxvii.  10   367,  400,  466 

Ixxviii   121,  568 

Ixxviii.  9   83 

Ixxviii.  18   611 

Ixxviii.  19   583 

Ixxviii.  38,  39   545 

Ixxviii.  57   183 

Ixxx.  3   567 

Ixxx.  8   97 

Ixxxlv.  5   609 

Ixxxiv.  6   293 

Ixxxiv.  10   236 

Ixxxiv.  11   463 

Ixxxiv.  12   71 

Ixxxv.  10   189 

Ixxxvl.  8   475 

Ixxxvi.  11   177 

Ixxxix.  47   392,  651 

xc.  e   663 

XC.3...   .570 

xc.  5   268 

xc.  8   123 

xc.  11   177,  .545 

xc.  12   122,  389 

xc.  14   468 

xci.  1   327 

xci.  5,  6   220 

xcii.  12,  13   335 

xoii.  12-14   167 

xcii.  14,  15   132 

xciii.  1   618 

xciv.  12   533 

xcvi   549 

xcvi.  7,  8   354 

xcvi.  9   4.52 

xcvii   549 

xcvii.  2   399 

xcvii.  10   194,  224 

xcvii.  11  94,  152 

xcviii   549 

xcix   494 

ci.  2   323 

cii   213 

cii.  13   499,  549 

cli.  26   78 

ciii   606 


Cb.  Ver.  Page. 

ciii.  4   160,  680 

ciiL  13   158,  215,  601 

ciii.  14   395,  545 

ciii.  15   122 

ciii.  20    608 

ciii.  22   531 

civ.  15   465 

civ.  24   355,  385,  663 

civ.  28   368 

civ.  29   570 

civ.  31-34   673 

civ.  34   93 

cvii   354,  604 

cvii.  42   524 

cvii.  43    523 

ex.  1   587 

ex.  2   606 

ex.  3   119,  120,  684 

ex.  4   148 

cxi.  10   176 

exii.  1   495,  693,  695 

cxii.  1,  7   177 

cxii.  3-5,  8,  13   132 

exii.  7,  8   495 

cxiii.  8   160 

cxiii.  7,  8   76 

cxiii.  7   92 

cxv   626 

exvi.  1   234,  300,  573 

cxvi.  7   200 

cxvi.  11   143 

[exvi.  16   622 

cxviii.  23   141 

exix   448,  470 

cxix.  1   693 

exix.  4,  5   698 

cxix.  4,  5   609 

exix.  5,11,13,15,16,24,27  130 

j  cxix.  6   474,  608 

cxix.  6....  11,  13,  16,  24,  33,  67 

  105,  608 

cxix.  6   137 

cxix.  9   702 

cxix.  11   564 

cxix.  14,  16,  113   470 

exix.  17  218,  225 

cxix.  19   396 

cxix;  20   129,  470 

cxix.  28   243 

cxix.  32   165,  290,  505 

cxix.  44   608 

cxix.  47,  48,  113,  140   470 

cxix.  52   366 

cxix.  .59   236 

exix.  96   527 

cxix.  97   470 

cxix.  97,  102,  103   132 

exix.  104   .563 

cxix.  105   104,  178 

exix.  113   129 

cxix.  113,  128   195 

cxix.  120   108,  177,  361 

cxix.  127   470 

cxix.  128    379 

cxix.  130   707 

cxix.  136   470,  609,  725 

cxix.  137   530,  .544 

cxix.  139   471 

«xix.  158   471 

cxix.  163   471 

cxix.  176   201 


772 


inde:;. 


Ch.  Veb. 

cxxii. . . . 
cxxii.  3. 
cxxiii. . 


Paoc. 

  213 

  631 

  73 

cxxiv   492 

cxxv.  1   102,  143,  583 

cxxvi.  1   81 

cxxvi.  5   475 

cxxvii.3   120 

cxxix.  3   185 

:xxx   357,  370,  550 

jxxx.  1   370 

cxxx.  2   373 

cxxx.  3   375,  385 

cxxx.  4   377 

cxxx.  5-8   380 

cxxx.  6   102,  .TO 

cxxx.  7   497 

cxxxi.  1   405 

cxxx i.  2   503 

cxxxii   530 

cxxxii.  9   150 

cxxxi  ii.  2   480 

cxxxiii.  2,  3   214 

cxxxv.  6   677 

cxxxvii   213 

cxxxvii.  5   499,  509 

cxxxviii.  5   509 

cxxxviii.  8   124,  235 

cxxxix.  6   677 

cxxxix.  12   309 

cxxxix.  14   674 

cxxxLx.  18   595 

cxli.  2   138 

cxli.  3   387 

cxli.  5   408 

cxli.  12   232 

cxlii.4,  5   395 

cxliv.  2,  3   390 

cxliv.  12   135 

cxlv.3   700 

cxlv.  10   525 

cxlv.  16   368 

cxlvi.  4   122,  231 

cxlvii.  9   610 

cxivii.  11   496 

cxlvii.  19   500 

cxlviii   491 

• 

Proverbs. 

i.  5   525 

i.  9   667 

i.  26,  28   228 

i.  30   255 

i.  32   250 

ii.  3,  6   524 

J.  4   667 

Jii.  11   323 

iii.  17   694 

iii.  27   636 

iii.  27,  28   308 

iv.  3   196 

iv.  7   667 

iv.  18   520 

iv.  23              199,  253,  387,  635 

iv.  23,  24   165 

iv.  23-26   345 

V.  4  551,  .565 

V.  8   225 

vii.22   215 

vii.  26   220 

viii,   443 


Ch  Ver.  Paoe. 

viii.  12   443 

viii.  31   383 

viii.  36   649 

ix.  4,  16   524 

ix.  18   178 

X.9   640 

X.  n   217 

X.  12   306 

x.  19    222,  400,  598,  701 

xi.  20   222,  223 

xi.  4   246 

xi.  7   75 

xiii.  10   175 

xiii.  14   667 

xiv.  9   190 

xiv.  26   357 

xiv.  32  

XV.  1  

XV.  4  , 

XV.  33  

xvi.  4  

xvi.  9  

xvi.  31  

xvii.  9  


  76 

  239 

  640 

  108 

. .  627,  672,  695 

  542 

  335 

  634 


xvii.  27   217 

xviii.  1   98 

xviii.  6   565 

xviii.  10  81,  357 

xviii.  10,  11   498 

xix.  3   255 

xix.  7   258 

xix.  11   307,  615 

xix.  12   545 

xix.  16   345 

xix.  17  217,  637 

xix.  18   568 

XX.  9   444 

XX.  24   542 

XX.  27   551 

xxi.  1   292,  542 

xxii.  29   579 

xxiii.  2   195 

xxiii.  5   352,  534 

xxiii.  17   178 

xxiii.  26   561 

xxiii.  29   239 

xxiii.  31   195,  225 

xxiii.  34   583 

XXV.  20   76 

xxvi.  16   175 

xxvi.  23   221 

xxvii.  19.   578 

xxviii.  1   109 

xxviii.  14  no,  532 

xxix.  21   701 

XXX   448 

XXX.  3   546 

XXX.  8   611 

XXX.  12   67,  276,  445 

xxxi.  14   596 

ECCLESIASTF.S. 

1   204 

4   123,  295 

15,  18    391 

18   529,  666 

2   225,  6,58 

13   523 

16   .529 

,4   529 

v.  16   52& 


Ch.  Ver.  Paob 

v.  2   697 

V.  2,3   233 

v.  11   528,  612 

vii.2   447 

vii.  4   318 

vii.  9   634 

vii.  29   490 

viii.  6,  7   89 

viii.  9   ^86 

viiL  II   268 

ix.  9   237 

ix.  11-15   529 

x.  9   225 

X.  15   650 

xi.  5   687 

xi.  6   500,  579 

xi.  7   448 

xii.  10,  11,  14   176 


Canticles. 


98 


i.  2  

  162 

i.  14  

  Sfifi 

ii   .^72 

  246 

ii.  14  

  231 

  147 

  139,  299 

iv.  2  

 119,  201 

  557 

v.  7  

  621 

V.9  

,  ...  105,  112,  457 

  85 

Isaiah. 


.2  

.  11  

.  14-16,  18. 

.  15  

.  18  

.  24  


138, 


11  .... 
13,  17. 
20.... 


16... 

1-3 . 
3... 
3,  4. 
4,5. 
5... 
6,  7. 
8... 
9... 


221, 


362 
566 
228 
702 
519 
323 
483 
112 
499 
536 
132 
328 
463 
557 
499 
398 
398 
3.54 
107 
399 
546 
400 
401 
500 


INDEX. 


773 


Ch.  Ver.  Paqe.  , 

vi.  9,  10   402 

vi.  11,  12   403  j 

ri.  13   270,  404 

vii.  2   498 

vii.  9   497 

vii.  10-13   142  j 

viii.  11   570  1 

viii.  12   494  I 

Viii.  12,  13   109,  243 

viii.  13    244,  569,  603 

viii.  17   569 

viii.  20   461 

ix.  6   141 

ix.  7   141 

ix.  21   516 

X.  5,  16   542 

X.  5,  16,  24,  25    324 

X.  17,  18   463 

xi.  6   687 

xiii.  21   105 

xxll.  14   412 

xxvi.  1   81  : 

xxvi.  3   497,  572 

xxvi.  11   262,  555 

xxvi.  12   341 

xxvi.  13   288 

xxvi.  19   281 

ixvii.  3  81,  144 

xxvii.  9   323,  567 

xxviii.  1   334 

xxviii.  5,  6   450 

xxviii.  16   140,  348,  572 

xxviii.  24-29   549 

xxix   362 

ixix.  8   520 

xxix.  15   229 

XXX.  7   546 

XXX.  9,  12     546 

XXX.  10   547 

XXX.  15-18   545 

XXX.  18   339,  548,  572 

XXX.  20    329  I 

xxxi.  2.  3   547  ' 

xxxi.  5,  6   548 

xxxiii.  14   484  | 

XXXV.  3   341 

XXXV.  6   508 

xxxviii.  2   395  i 

xxxviii.  5   397 

xxxix.  8   2.56 

xl.  II   331,  342 

xl.  20   199 

xl.  25   626 

xl.  28   630 

xl.  29   341 

xli.  12,  13   384 

xli.  14   517 

xli.  15   384 

xlii.  6   460 

xlii.  2^4   44? 

xliii.  2   341 

xliii.  7   627 

xliii.  10   189 

xliii.  13   384,  618 

xliii.  25   158,  3.50 

xliv.  2   613 

Xliv.  8   623 

xliv.  20   Ill,  198,  223 

xliv.  24    384 

ilv.  8   585 


Ch.    er.  Page. 

xlv.  9   178 

xlv.  12   583 

xlv.  16   247 

xlv.  19   235 

xlv.  24   341 

xlvii.  1   455 

xlvli.  7   455 

xlix.  4   579 

xlix.  6   460 

xlix.  15   158,  215 

xlix.  16   230 

.2   517 

.4   S78 

.6   199 

.8   277,  512 

.  10   246,  498 

.  11   273 

i.  11   318 

i.  12   583 

i.  12,  13   517 

i.  16  .•   583 

ii.  1   458 

ii.  10,  14,  15   264 

ii.  15   66 

iii   98 

iii.  1   95 

iii.  1-8   584 

iii.  4   188,  190,  192 

iii.  5  2.59,  585 

iii.  6   538,  575 

iii.  7   112,  186,  191,  585 

iii.  8   584 

iii.  10   192 

iii.  12   264,  575 

iv   544 

iv.  5   383 

iv.  7   269 

iv.  7,  8   215 

iv.  13   95 

iv.  17   341 

V.  2   290 

V.  7   548,  614 

vii.  15    134,  136,  229,  602 

vii.  16   545 

vii.  19   385 

vii.  20   226,  244,  441 

vii.  21   74 

viii   631 

viii.  8   460 

viii.  13,  14   629 

ix.  1   571 

ix.  1,  2   515 

ix.  9   516 

IX.  11   351 

ix.  12...   515 

X.  1   265,  459 

X.  18,  19   460 

xi.  1  92,  112,  172 

xi.  3   5.'j7 

xii.  6   191,  199,  200 

xii.  7   234 

xii.  9   215 

xiii.  9  213,  299 

xiv   603 

xlv.  1   403 

xiv.  5   343 

XV.  25   80 

xvi.  1,2   136 

xvi.  9   119 

xvi.  24   325 


Ch.  Ver.  Page. 
Jeremiah. 

i.  10   402 

ii.  19   565 

ii.  20    287 

ii.  22   66,  624 

ii.  27   393 

ii.  28   228 

ii.  32   516 

ii.  36   200 

iii.  1   548,  614,  626 

iii.  6   287 

iii.  12   190,  548 

iii.  14   203 

iii.  15   329 

iv.  3   502 

iv.  14   Ill,  165,  642 

V.  22   495 

vi.  7   165 

vii.  4   500 

vii.  10   159 

viii.  6   236 

ix.  1   472 

ix.  1,  2,3   473 

ix.  4,  5   221 

ix.  23,  24    453 

X.7   605,  624 

X.23,  24    541 

X.  25    543 

.xii   269 

!  xiii.  17   471 

I  xiv.  7-9   550 

I  xiv.  12   228,  519 

XV.  10   313 

XV.  19  


  293 

XV.  20   319 

  629 

  583 


XVII  

xvii.  7  

xvii.  8   534 

xvii.  9   583 

xvii.  13   261 

XX.  9   388,  402 

xxi.  5   494 

xxii.  19   545 

xxiii.  32   224 

xxvi.  3   498 

xxix.  11   323 

XXX.  11   545 

XXX.  17,  18   339 

xxxi   614 

xxxi.  9   414 

xxxi.  18   215,  548,  55' 

xxxi.  18-10   548 

xxxi.  20   15? 

xxxi.  33   562 

xxxi.  33,  34   615 

xxxi.  34   548 

'  xxxii.  17,  27,  36   517 

xxxii.  40   177 

xlii.  2   547 

xlv.  4,5   612 

xlvi.  15   .547 

1.  38   292 

li.  19,  20   384 


Lamentations. 

  499 

  447 

  448 

  844 

iii.  32,33   549 


i-v. . . 
i.  14.. 
iii. . . . 
iii.  22. 


774 


INDEX. 


Ch.  Ve«.  P«oe. 

iii.  Ui, -14   516 

iii.  5  J   57  I 

iii.  56   372 

■V.  4   J62 

iv.  5   121 

V.  16   473 

EZEKIGL. 

viii   441,  624 

viii.  7   515 

viii.  18   228 

ix.  3   550 

ix.  4   473 

ix.  6   323 

xiii.  7   315 

XIV.  3   221 

xvi   158 

xviii.  20   626 

XX.  24   Ill 

xxi.  21   542 

xxvi.  26   119 

xxviii.  5   442 

xxxii.  3   587 

xxxiii.  31   200 

xxxiii.  32         130,  332,  403,  501 

xxxiv.  16   200,  331 

xxxvi   544 

xxxvi.  23    604 

xxxvi.  25   287,  603 

xxxviii   157 

xliii.  3   402 

xlvii.  5   179 

Daniel. 

ii.  35   141 

iii.  15   494 

iii.  16   245 

iii.  17   583 

iv.  25   170 

iv.  32   353 

iv.  34   618 

vi.  5,  14   494 

ix                              544,  603 

ix.3   95 

ix.  7   603 

X.  11   95 

Xii.  10   262 

HOSFA. 

ii.  8   338 

ii.  8,  13,  14-16   533 

ii.  23   157,  158 

iii.  5   177,  496 

iv.  1,  2   443 

•  v.  1,  2,3   624 

T.  12, 14   610 

V.  13   403 

V.  15   551,  564 

vi.  1   403,  515 

vi.  2   587 

vi.  5   402,  565 

vii.  14   368,  .568 

viii.  7   224 

xi.  3   199 

xi.  8   215,  541,  565 

xi.  12   221 

xii.  1   531 

xii.  9   572 

Bii.  9  565,  572 

xiv.  1-3   572 

xiv.  8   558 


Ch.  Ver. 


Joel. 


ii.  6. 
ii.  17 


Paok. 

143 
474 


Amos. 

iii.  2   69,  323,  517 

iii.  3   229 

iii.  6   555 

v.  8   384 

  607 

  228 


V.  18. 
ix.  4. . 


Jonah. 


i.  6.... 
ii  

ii.  3,4. 
ii.  4... 


661 
372 

466  I 
573  I 


MiGAH. 

ii.  1   442 

:  ii.  11   329 

iv.  2   414 

i  vi.  6   138,  278 

vi.  7,  8   229 

vi.  9   83 

vii.  8   463 

vii.  9   544 


Zephaniah. 


iii.  9. 


399 


Habakkuk. 
i.  14   158 

i.  15   678 

ii   474 

ii.  1   97 

ii.  3   549,  572 

ii.  3,  4   678 

ii.  15,  16   474 

iii.  16,  19   532 

iii.  17   86,  467 

iii.  17,  18   531 


Zechariah. 


ii.  4. ... 

iii.  .3-5. 

iv.  10.. 
xii.  1 . . 
xii.  10. 


  463 

  160 

  349 

, . .  384,  622 
  198 


xiii.  1   149,  461 

xiii.  4   419 

Malachi. 
i.  6    603 

iii.  17   136 

iv.  2   141,  1.52 


Matthew. 


1  

18.... 
20.... 
21.... 
22.... 

I,  2.. 

3  

7-12. 

II.  .. 

13-23. 
.  1.... 
.2.... 


413 


411 

412 
412 
680 
412 
413 
414 
414 
416 
414 
417 
418' 


Ch.Veb.  Pi«1 

ii.  3    419 

ii.  4   419 

i.  5   419 

i.  8   419 

i.  9   420 

i.  iO                         420,  558 

i.  1 1   420 

ii.  12   420 

ii.  13-15   420 

ii.  15   538 

ii.  16,  17   420 

v.  1   420 

2   421 

V.  3                           346,  4?.l 

v.  7   706 

V.  10   423 

V,  11   423 

V,  12   423 

V.  13   423 

V.  14-16   423 


V.  16.. 

V.  17.. 

V.  18.. 

V.  19.. 

V.  23.. 

V  

V.  1,  2. 
V.3.... 
V.6.... 


  456 

  423 

  424 

  424 

  424 

  621 

  424 

  689 

  74,  458 

V.  8   128,  695,  703 

V.  9   727 

V.  10   579 

V.  10,  11   318 

V.  11   320 

V.  12   295,  313 

V.  13,  14   425 

V.  16   1.55 

V.  J7   425 

V.  18   295 

V.  21   633 

V.  21-29   426 

V.  22   305 

V.  3 1-43   426 

V.34   628 

V.  44   217,  634 

V.  44-48   218,  615 

V.45   638 

V.48   106 

vi   426 

vi.  3   138,  308 

vi.  9   594 

vi.  19   428 

vi.  20   79 

vi.  21   96 

vi.  24-34   428 


vi.  31 


341 


vi.  32    343 

vii.  1-5   429 

vii.  6   430 

vii.  7    430 

vii.  11...'   300,  601 

vii.  12,  15   430 

vii.  13   430 

vii.  15   431 

vii.  16,  17   165 

vii.  21   431 

vii.  24-27    348 

vii.  25   86 

vii.  28   4:<1 

vii.  29    22S 

viii   4^1 


INDEX. 


775 


Ch.  Ver.  Page. 

viii.  ]   431 

viii.  2   431 


Vlll 

viii 


432 
432 
432 


viii.  5-9  

viii.  10   432 

  433 


viii.  14 
viii.  15 


433 


Ch.  Vek.  Page. 
Mark. 

i.  45   432 

iv.  1   501 

iv.  4   501 

vi.  20   131 

viii.  36   327 

ix.  44   325 


viii.  16   433 

viii.  19,  20   434 

viii.  21   434 

viii.  23-27    434 

viii.  28-34   436 

ix   436 

ix.  1   436 

ix.  2   436 

ix.  3   437 

ix.  4   437 

ix.  5   438 

ix.  6   438 

ix.  8   438 

ix.  9   438 

ix.  10-13   439 

ix.  13   706 

X.  16   313,  367,  591 

X.  17   579 

X.  24   316 

X.24,  25   319 

X.  28   178,  580,  6.52 

X.30   327 

X.34   314 

xi.  17,  19   91 

xi.  21   332 

xi.  25   181 

xi.  26   114 

xi.  28   652 

xi.  29    207,  218,  239,  586 

xi.  30   186 

xii.  18, 19   251 

xii.  19   478 

xii.  33    2.53  ! 

xii.  34   126,  221 

xii.  36   220,  320 

xiii.  3   500 

xiii.  16   98 

xiii.  19   501 

XV.  18   117 

XV.  19   641 

xvi.  18  63,  142 

xvi.  22   184 

xvi.  22,  23   315  1 

xvi.  24   313 

xvi.  26   204  1 

xviii.  7   25! 

xviii.  19   209 

xviii.  20   211  i 


Luke. 


i.  7,  8... 
i.  28,  29. 
i.  47.... 
i.  51..., 


i.  74  

i.  78  

i.  78,  79   106, 

ii.  10,  11  

ii.  10,  14  

ii.  25,  38  

ii.  29  

ii.  34  

iii.  8  

iii.  38  118, 

iv.  1  

iv.  15  

V.  5  

vi.  38  

viii.  5  

viii.  26  

ix.  55  

X.  16  


xviii.  21 . 

xix.  17.. 
xix.  28  , 


  307 

  699 

  684 

xxii.32   211 

xxii.  37,  39   560 

xxiv.  12   308 

xxiv.  30   590 

xxiv.  46   173 

XXV.  13   103 

XXV.  23   182 

XXV.  29   310 

XXV.  40   637 

xxvi.  33   191 

xtvi.  39   189 

ixvi.  il   300 


XI  

xi.  4  

xi.  13  

xii.  4    

xii.  13  

xii.  15  

xii.  19  

xii.  35  

xii.  42  

xiii.  1-9  

xiii.  3  

xiii.  4,5  

XV.  4,  5  

xvii.  21  

xvii.  27  

xvii.  34  

xviii  

xix.  17  

xxi.  28  

x.v.i.  34   292,  301, 

xxii.  Tl  

xxii.  24  

xxii.  25,  26  

xxii.  32  

xxiv.  12  

xxiv.  19  

xxiv.  21  

xxiv.  2.5,  26  

xxiv.  2.5,  27  

xxiv.  26  

xxiv.  48  


169 
399 

92 
536 
622 
460 
692  ' 
680 

92 
550 

98 
152 
119 
681 
421 
423 
408 
656 
501 
229 
269 
267 
348 
613 
300 
109 
341 
612 
534 
102 
444 
554 
70S 
237 
200 

97 
270 
203 
3.58 
225 
102 
346 
189 
335 
333 
577 
315 
327 
264 
185 

98 
281 
329 


John. 

1   536 

i.  1,  14   583 

i.  4   152,  462 

i.  4,  9   266 

i.  4,  9,  18   152 

i.  10   383 

i.  10,  12   680 


i.  12  75,  538,  600,  681,  687 

i.  12,  13    48 

i.  12,  14   537,  584 

i.  13   119,  684 

i.  14         141,  147,  187,  477,  680 

i.  16   149.  254 

i.  18   443 

i.  29   112,  149,  192,  510 

i.  42   63 

1.47   367 

iii.  3   119,  125,  681 

iii.  9   124 

iii.  10   119 

iii.  16   126,  189 

iii.  19   153 

iii.  33   155,  497 

iv.  24   134,  702 

V.  29   593 

V.39   98,  140 

V.40   136 

vi   135,  265 

vi.  17    525 

vi.  27   206,  611 

vi.  29   145 

vi.  37. ..."..".'186,  189,  272,  705 

vi.  44   538 

vi.  45   95 

vi.  65   136 

vi.  68   297 

vii.  17   288 

vii.  .37,38   385 

vii.  48,  49   146 

viii.  12... 152,  187,  283,460,599 

viii.  21   586 

viii.  35   268 

viii.  36   172,  622 

viii.  44   146,  304 

viii.  56   98 

X.  9,  1 1   200 

X.  10  298,326 

X.  15   575 

X.  15,  18   585 

X.  18   192 

X.  27,  28   201 

X.  28-30    201 

X.29   328 

xi.  40   460 

xii.  3   478 

xii.  41   460 

xiii.  6   185 

xiii.  10   592 

xiii.  34   116 

xiii.  35   116,  175,  634 

xiv.  2   188,  602 

xiv.  3   588 

xiv.  6   234,  584 

xiv.  13   300 

xiv.  19   96,  282,  587 

xiv.  23   128 

xiv.  30   186 

XV.  5   347 

XV.  8   155,558 

XV.  12   214 

XV.  18   18.5,  668 

XV.  18,  20   318 

XV.  19  66,  68 

XV.  20  315,  316 

xvi.  1   184 

xvi.  7  t  676 

xvi.  8,  9   144 

xvi.  20   478 


776 


INDEX. 


(  H.  Vkk.  Paos. 
xvi.  22   386 

xvi.  33   184,  240 

xvii  30 1,  318 

xvii.  1   191 

xvii.  2,  10   259 

ILvii.  3  "..  192,  259,  693 

xvii.  4,  6,  8,  24   192 

ivii.  11,  21   2J4 

tvii.  16   80 

ivii.  17   68,  154  '503 

xvii.  21   158 

ivii.  22,  24   96 

xvii.  24   282 

xviii.  37   585 

\ix.  11   170 

xi>.  36   184 

XX.  17   600 

XX.  21   576 

xxi   64 

xxi.  15   91 

xxi.  16   333 

»xi.  22   558 

Acts. 

i.  11   589 

ii   88 

ii.  1,44,  47   212 

ii.  8   479 

ii.9   65 

ii.  24   264,  586 

ii.  26   627 

ii.38,  41   92 

ii.  47   68,  70 

V.  37   555 

V.  41   321 

vii.  60   243 

ix.  4   213 

is.  6   401 

ix.  31   72 

X.  33   211 

xii.  23   452 

xiii.  33   76 

xiii.  48   68,  70 

xiv.  17   268,  484 

xiv.  22   184 

XV.  8,  9   118 

XV.  9   104,  144 

XV.  18   69 

xvi.  25   236,  317 

xvi.  30   236 

xvii.  7   169 

xvii.  25   562 

xvii.  26   485 

xvii.  28   536,  600,  681 

xvii.  31   589,  590 

xvii.  32   109 

xvii.  32,  34   697 

XX   112 

XX.  24   580 

XX.  28   66,  259,  260,  332 

xxiii.  6   249 

xxiv.  16   166,  183,  253 

XXV.  23    123,  519 

xxvi.  27   82 

Romans. 

i.  5   145 

i.8   67 

i.  20   698 

..21   Ill 

L  22   442 


Ch.  Vbr.  Phoe. 

i.  30   640 

ii.  4  215,  261 

ii.  5  101,  230 

ii.7  87,  175 

ii.  15   563 

ii.  29   181 

iii.  13   621,  640 

iv.  6   366 

iv.  20   155 

V.  1   73 

V.  1,  3   260 

V.  5   249,  479 

V.7,  8   484 

V.  8   189 

vi   76 

vi.  3   284 

vi.  4   197,  277 

vi.  6   296 

vi.  10   76 

vi.  11   286 

vi.  17   145 

vi.  20   172,  196 

vi.  21   Ill 

vii.  3   620 

vii.  4   564 

vii.  7   641 

vii.  10   116 

vii.  12, 14   482 

vii.  14   641 

vii.  15   69 

vii.  21   226 

vii.  23    563  ,  609 

vii.  24   654 

viii   226,  573 

viii.  1   404,  519 

viii.  5   476,  481 

viii.  6   471,  482,  624 

viii.  7   481,  563 

viii.  7,  17   284 

viii.  9  71,  101 

viii.  9,  14,  15   600 

viii.  13   164,  290 

viii.  14   121 

viii.  15   177,  600 

viii.  16,  23   183 

viii.  17    74,  .536,  602 

viii.  18   243,  322,  409 

viii.  22   78.  190 

viii.  26   599 

viii.  26,  27   597 

viii.  28   342,  510,  687 

viii.  28,  30   68 

viii.  29...,  69,  70,  117,  175,  213 

  283,  316,  683 

viii  30   588 

viii.  32   471 

viii.  33   587 

viii.  33,  34   277,  509 

viii.  34   127 

viii.  35   512 

viii.  35,  38   347 

viii.  37   298,  315 

viii.  37,38   263 

viii.  37-39   143 

viii.  37,  39   513 

viii.  39   242,  513 

ix   588 

ix.  5   213 

ix.  19.  20   70 

ix.  20   147 

i.x.  25   157 


Ch.Ver.  Pao» 

X.  18   500 

xi.  6   358 

xi.  26   216 

xi.  29   455 

xi.  33   113,  147 

xi.  36   168,  312,  695 

xii.  1   139,  161,  192,  624 

xii.  2   171,  225,  240,  288 

xii.  3   404 

xii.  3-12   404 

xii.  4   212 

xii.  4-8   406 

xii.  8   174 

xii.  9  ;   116,  407 

xii.  10   335 

xii.  10,  11   408 

xii.  12    409 

xii.  19   217 

xii.  21   634 

xiii.  1   170 

xiii.  4   633 

xiii.  5-8   484 

xiii.  8   116 

xiii.  9,  10   561 

xiii.  10   304,  562 

xiii.  11-14   519 

xiii.  11,  14   458 

xiii.  14   163,  284 

xiv.  17  152,  606 

XV.  1   212 

XV.  5   351 

xvi.  20   617 

I.  Corinthians. 

i.5   73 

i.  13  73,  116 

i.  18   125 

i.  18,  30   152 

i.  24,  30   443 

i.  25   530 

i.  26   136,  203 

i.  26,  28   68 

i.  27   181 

i.  30   115,  535 

ii   442 

ii.  1   591 

ii.2          112,  125,  192,477,539 

ii.9   227 

ii.  1 1   95 

ii.  12   70 

ii.  14   133 

iii.  6   63,  500 

iii.  12   161 

iii.  18   442 

iv.  1   577 

iv.  3   127,  136,  168 

iv.  7   309,  406 

iv.  13   158 

iv.  15   75 

iv.  21   161 

vi.  11   158 

vi.  19   1.35,  232,706 

vi.  20   154 

vii.  15   184 

vii.  29-31   202 

vii.  30   150,  636 

vii.  31   30.3,  345 

ix   204 

ix.  20   579 

ix.  22   578,  581 

ix.  25   103 


INDEX. 


777 


Ch.  Veb.  Pao«. 

ij.27   99 

X.  13   256,  348 

I.  22   625 

X.31   291 

xi.  1   187,  238 

xi.  20   108 

xi.  28   704 

xi.  29   580 

xi.  30   278 

xi.  31   276 

xi.  32   84,  544 

xii   591 

xii.  3   591 

xii.  9   224 

xii.  14-17   212 

xii.  15,  21   310 

xii.  23    208 

xii.  26   2J2 

xiii   90 

xiii.  1-3   214 

xiii.  4   132 

xiii.  5   156 

xiii.  9   211 

xui.  9-12   126 

xiii.  12   689,  693 

xiv.  20   125,  126 

XV.  19   656 

XV.  20   180 

XV.  24-28   606 

XV.  45   190 

XV.  54    79 

XV.  56   180,  613 

XV.  58    235 

II.  Corinthians. 

i.  4-6....   421 

i.  5   243 

L  9   377 

i.  16   149 

i.  20    582 

i.  24   210 

ii.  16   331 

iii   149,  460 

iii.  2   305 

iii.  18   131,  254,  277,  522 

iv.  1   159 

iv.  3   461 

iv.  4   153,  460 

IV.  5   156 

iv.  6   131,  152,  154,  684 

iv.  10   186 

iv.  16   120 

iv.  17   352 

iv.  17,  18   498 

iv,  18   89,  427 

V.  1   79 

V.  5   574 

V.  9   175,  574 

v.  10,  11   110 

V.  11   177,  574 

v.  11,  18   574 

V.  12   680 

V.  14   333,  574 

V.  14,  15   161 

».  17   75,  287 

V.  19   584 

V.  20    64,  484,  574 

V.  21   191,  575 

vi.  8   101 

vi.  14   224,  279 

vi.  17   687 

98 


Cb.Veb.  PlOB. 

vii.  1   117,  226,  444,  503 

vii.  9   706 

vii.  11   445 

viii.  9   434 

viii.  23   463 

X.  4   504 

X.  5  67,  146,  506 

xi.  14   126 

xi.  29   212 

xii.  4   658 

xii.  7    361 

xii.  10  312,  360 

xii.  21   471 

Galatians. 

ii   64 

ii.  9,  10   64 

ii.  20   197,  284 

iii.  1   89,  118,  330 

iii.  3   386 

iii.  13   190,  521,  680 

iv.  6   118,  340,  600 

iv.  19   75 

iv.  28   148 

iv.  29   319 

V.  1   112 

v.  6   214 

V.  13   116 

V.  17   522 

V.  22   634 

vi.  1  212,  307 

vi.  2   730 

vi.  7   221,  244 

vi.  10   175 

vi.  14   96,  196,  243 

Ephesians. 

i.  3   76,  218,  603 

i.  4   591 

i.  6,  7   133 

i.  6,  12   155 

i.  10  117,  304 

i.  1 1  669,  677 

i.  12   627 

i.  14  80,  197 

i.  18   77 

i.  19   142 

i.  20,  21   587 

ii   88,  261 

ii.  1   158 

ii.  2   106 

ii.2,  3   682 

ii.  8   96 

ii.  12   152 

ii.  14   141 

ii.  14,  16.  18   518 

ii.  16   66,  261 

ii.  17   .  267 

ii.  18   599 

ii.  20,  21   135 

ii.  21   136 

iii.  3   193 

iu.  8  „   149 

iii.  10    309,  576 

iii.  17   157,  161 

iii.  19   478 

iv.  2   116 

iv.  11   99 

iv.  11,  12   576 

iv.  13   77 

iv.  14   126 


Ch  Ves.  Page. 

iv.  15   636 

iv.  16  117,  135,  137 

iv.  17   Ill 

iv.  18   563 

iv.  18,  19   152 

iv.  22.'   126 

iv.  24   631 

iv.  26   361 

iv.  29   223,  635 

iv.  30   71,  538 

iv.  31   162 

iv.  32   134 

V.  1,  2   239 

v.  3-1 2   634 

V.  8. . . ..  120,  154,  462,  687,  693 

V.  11  106,  111,  154,  224 

V.  13   461 

V.  14   456 

V.  17    172 

V.  18   102 

V.  22   202 

V.  25,  26   197 

V.  26   591 

V.  30   96 

V.  32   213 

vi.  2   631 

vi.  8   181,  182 

vi.  9   180 

vi.  16   346 

vi.  18   596 

Philippians. 

i.  6   349 

i.  20   156,  607 

i.  23   90,  260 

i.  27   168 

i.  29   95,  321 

ii.  3   211 

ii.  7,8   281 

ii.  12   503 

ii.  12, 13   108 

ii.  13   344 

ii.  20   329,  333 

ii.  21   354 

iii.  7,  8   89,480 

iii.  8   147,  471,  482 

iii.  10   112,  197,  534,  587 

iii.  II,  12   504 

iii.  12,  15   227 

iii.  13   506,  736 

iii.  14   226 

iii.  15   211 

iii.  18   482 

iii.  19   163,  534,  611 

iii.  21   693 

iv.  5   612 

iv.  6   342,  348,  596 

iv.  6,  7   342 

iv.  7   133 

Colossians. 

i.  10   705 

i.  12   153,  593 

i.  13   152,  154 

i.  17   383 

i.  18   587,  593 

i.  19   351 

i.  27   76,  25fl 

ii.  3   538,  680 

ii.  3-9   707 

ii,  6   264 


INDEX. 


r.H 

ii 

ii. 

ii. 

iii. 

iii. 

iii. 

iii. 

iii. 

iii. 

iii. 

iii. 

iv. 


VsK.  Page. 

7   161 

9   234 

18   ti26 

1   282,  588 

1,  2   96 

3....  242,  296,  317,  469,  589 

3.  4   96,  589 

4   470 

5   196,287 

14   116,  306 

24   183 

6   400 


I.  Thessalonians. 

IV.  1   172 

iv.  6   637 

iv.  7. .106,  184,205,521,622,636 
iv.  17   303 

V.  5   521,  687,  693 

V.  7   520 

V.  17   300,  649 

V.  23   226 

II.  Thessalonians. 

k.7   590 

.8   443 

i.9   230 

i.  10  81,  317 

ii.  12   227,  609 

I.  Timothy. 
1.2   471 

i.  17   699 

ii.  19   209 

iii.  2   444 

iii.  4....   323 

iii.  9   129,  581 

iii.  9,  16   161 

iii.  10   581 

iii.  16   89,  99,  114 

iv.  2   253 

iv.  8   227,  610 

iv.  12   329,  334 

iv.  13   97 

V.  8   636 

vi.  6   612 

vi.  8,9   611 

vi.  9   247,  340,  612 

vi.  9,  10   198 

vi.  16  618,  699 

vi.  17   87 


II.  Timothy. 


10   95 

12   328 

3   257 

1   346 

12   186,  341 

2   152,  .308,  561 

12   184,  241,  256 

2   307 

8   590 


'  CH.  Ver  PikOE. 

I  Hkbrews. 

i   536 

i.  2,  14   281 

i.  3    76,  105,  1 18,  142,  585 

i.  10   78 

ii.  9   383,  682 

ii.  10   185,  421,  683 

ii.  10,  11   537 

ii.  11  213,  258 

ii.  11,  16   191 

ii.  16   100,  281 

iii.  2   113 

iii.  5   621 

iv.  2   127 

iv.  12   123 

iv.  15   257,  421 

iv.  15, 16   213 

v.  2-8   421 

v.  12   125 

v.  14   456,  584 

vi.  4   133 

vi.  10   214 

vi.  19   250 

vii.  12   138 

vii.  25   144,  188,  588 

vii.  26   261,  461,  477 

viii.  10   562 

ix   275 

ix.  12   149,  192 

ix.  12-14   66 

ix.  13,  14   581 

ix.  14    67,  254,  259,  263 

ix.  22   66 

X.  5   189 

X.  7   575 

X.  9   188 

X.  12,  14   114 

X.  20   594 

X.  21,22   149 

X.  22   117 

X.  24   238 

X.  31   177 

X.  34   249,  409 

xi.  1   89 

xi.  3   113,  .582,  670 

xi.  6   396,  515,  582,  676 

xi.  7   270 

xi.  7,  8,  19   271 

xi.  13   397 

xi.  19   583 

xi.  21   109 

xi.  26   294,  317,  320 

xi.  27   89,  476 

xi.  35     286 

xi.  36   313,  388 

xii.  1,  2   256,  507 

xii.2  96,  187,  225,  281,  293 

  349,  580 

xii.2,  3   257,  319 

xii.  5   83 

xii.  6   323  ! 

xii.  9   600,  601,  631 


Ch.  Vkr.  Pao« 
James. 

i.  1   64 

i.  2   82,  441 

i.  3   86 

i.  5..*   204,  524,  595 

i.  6   346 

i.  8   103 

i.  13   441 

i.  14   616 

i.  14,  15   642 

i.  17   153 

i.  18  75,  113,  122,  684,  685 

i.  20   492 

i.  21   121,  124,  128,  312 

i.  26,  27    441 

i.  27   427 

ii   622 

ii.  10   563 

ii.  14   214 

iii.  2        186,306,  388,  400,  701 

iii.  5  211,  219 

iii.  6   126,  219,  491 

iii.  15   441,  442 

iii.  17   362,  441 

iii.  18  

iv.  1  

iv.  8  

iv.  14  

v.  16  


226 
165 
642 
122 
228 

v.  17   238,373 


Titus. 

i.  15   253 

ii.  11,12   1.59 

li.  14    112,  193 

iii.  1   170 

iii.  3   162 

iii.  5   75 


xii.  II. 


83,  317,  544 


xii.  28   219,  290,  379 

xii.  28,  29   177 

xii.  29   484 

xiii.  4   634 

xiii.  8   97 

xiii.  15,  16  138,  140 

xiii.  16   139 


I.  Peter. 

i.  1   6.1 

i.  2  66,  181 

i.  3   277,  355,  587 

i.  3,4  74 

i.  5   79,328 

i.  6   82 

i.  7   85 

i.  8,  9   87 

i.  10-12   94 

i.  13   100 

i.  13,  22   161,  393 

i.  14-16...   104 

i.  15   603 

i.  17   107 

i.  18,  19   110 

i.  20   113 

i.21   115 

i.  22   115 

i.  23   118,  500,  685 

i.  24  ^   121 

i.  25  123,  132 

li.  1   295 

ii.  1,2   124 

ii.  3   131 

4,3   134 

6   140,  431,  573 

7,8   146 

8   350 

9          147,  181,453,458,627 

10   1.57 

11   160,  522 


12     164 

.  13,  14   169 

,  15,  16   171 

17    173 

,  12-20   178 

,20   144 

21-23   183 


INDEX. 


T79 


Ch.Veb  Page. 

ii.  22   221,  367 

ii.  24   188 

ii.  25   199 

iu.  1   202 

iii.  2   204 

iii.  3,  4   205 

iii.  5-7    207 

iii.  8   209 

iii.  9   217 

iii.  10  219,  236 

iii.  11   223 

iii.  12   227 

iii.  13   237 

iii.  14   240 

iii.  15   244 

iii.  16   250 

iii.  17   254 

iii.  18                   256,  283,  684 

iii.  19-21   265 

iii.  22   280 

IT   149 

iv.  1   282 

iv.  2   297 

iv.  2,  3    285 

iy.  3,  4   266 

iv.  4,  5   292 

iv.  6   294 

iv.  7   298,  700,  701 

iv.  8   304 

iv.  9   308 

iv.  9,  20   308 

iv.  10   309 

iv.  11   129,  311 

iv.  12,  13   313 

iv.  14   453 

iv.  14-16   318 

iv.  14,  16   320 

iv.  15   320 

iv.  15,  16   326 

iv.  16  319,  321 

iv.  17   322 

iv.  IS   325 

iv.  19   326 

T.  1   328 

T.  2   402 

T.2-4   331 

V.2,  4   329 

T.  4   79 

f.5   334 

r.  6   338 


Ch.  Ver. 

V.  7  

V.8.... 
V.  8,  9.. 
V.  10... 
V.  1 1 ... , 


Paoe. 

  340 

  700 

  343 

  348 

  353 

V.  12-14   3551 


Ch  Ver.  Page. 

V.  3   622,  634 

V.  4   81,  161,  293,  347 

V.  10   697 

V.  19   456 


II.  Peter. 


10. 
19. 
4.. 
13. 


  70 

  154 

  112 

  167 

i.  8   187,  678 

i.  10  137,  183 

i.  11   78 

i.  13   185 


I.  John. 

3  

3,  7  

6   144,  184, 

6,7  

7  

9  

.  1  

•1,2  

.2,6,7  

.  5  


13  

15  

15-17  

16  

19  

27   150, 

29  118, 

1   118, 

2   75,  126, 

3...  104,  249,  251,  443, 
4  


8  

14.... 
15,  17. 
16.... 
18.... 

3  

4  

8  

13.... 
18. 
20. 


125, 


JVDE. 


6.. 

22. 


632 
578 


108,  177,  301,  480, 


214 
163 
592 
288 

92 
368 
552 
592 
188 

71 
615 
301 
105 
162 
251 
430 
121 
214 
582 
521  1 
305 
304 
251 
633 
478' 
116  I 
3051 
2921 
132 

71 
513 
562 


Revelation. 

.5  76,  149 

.5,6   148 

.6    137 

.10   631 

i.  17   133 

ii.  17   198 

ii.  19   323 

ii.  21   476 

V   618 

V.  11   672 

V.8   138 

vii.  14                         263,  318 

vii.  17   475 

viii.  3,  4   140 

xi.  10   314 

xii                              453,  571 

xii.  11   347 

xiii.  8   114 

xiv.  3,  4   481 

xiv.  4   263 

xiv.  13   284 

XV.  3   606 

xvii.  4   453 

xviii.  2   105 

xviii.  7   455 

xviii.  21   324 

xix.  10   281 

xix.  20   224 

XX.  6                          125,  587 

XX.  12   253 

xxi                             85,  501 

xxi.  15   251 

xxi.  16   159 

xxi.  17   249 

xxi.  23  72,  95,  153 

xxii.  12   181 

xxii.  15   591 

xxii.  17   101 

xxii.  17,20   4  3 

xxii.  20   ten 


IIDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Page. 

\ei.x  Ezra   366 

.\bhorrence  of  Evil   407 

Ability  for  Preaching   312 

Ability  of  Christ's  Preaching   266 

Ability  of  God   328 

Abimelech   486 

Abraham  68,  9H 

Abstinence  from  Lusts   165 

Abuse  of  Scripture   422 

Acceptance  of  Prayer   232 

Access  to  God  in  Prayer   229 

Acknowledgment  of  God   532 

Action  accordinc;  lo  Divine  Providence   524 

Activity  of  Christ's  Preaching   260 

Activity  of  Obedience  to  God   508 

Admission  to  the  Lord's  Supper   644 

Adoption   74,  682 

Adrian   464 

Alultery   489 

Adversary,  the   345 

Aflection  for  Good   407 

Affections,  the   290 

AFfLICTION   446 

"       Cause  of   565 

"       Design  of  God  in   564 

«       Efficacy  of   568 

"       End  of   564,  567 

"       Exercise  in   569 

"       not  fruitful   510 

«       of  God's  People   548 

«       Way  of   566 

Afflictions   86,  347,  446 

Agreement  of  Evanselists  and  Prophets...  411 

Aikman's  Life  of  Leighton   739 

Akal  Kartza   167 

Alacrity  of  Obedience  to  God   508 

Alexander   507 

Alms   427 

Ambassadors  of  Christ   574 

Ambition  in  Preaching   333 

Ambrose   416 

4men   619 

"Amor  sceleratus  habendi"   638 

Anecdotes  of  Leighlon   10,  39,  40,  46 

Angels   385 

Angels  looking  into  the  Mystery  of  Godliness  99 

Anger   424,  633 

Anger  of  God   543 

"       "      averting  of   544 

Aneer  of  the  Lord   237 

"  Animalia  gloriae"   437,  883 

Answer  of  a  good  Conscience   275 

Answers  to  Prayer   234 

Antediluvians   303 

Anthony,  the  Hermit    365 

A-nataoadoKta   573 


PjtOE 

Apologies  of  Christians  ,   248 

Apostles,  Eye- Witnesses  of  Christ   329 

Apostles  without  Successors   575 

Appearance  of  Christ   87 

Appearance  of  the  Chief  Shepherd   334 

Appendix   739 

Appetite  of  Children   106 

Application  of  Redemption   114 

Apprehension  of  Evil   533 

"Arcana  imperii"   620 

"Arcanum  imperii"   439 

Archimedes,  death  of   122 

Arising  from  Sleep   456 

Aristotle   293 

Ark  of  God   452 

Ark,  the   270 

"    appointed  by  God   270 

Arming  of  a  Christian   284 

Ascension  of  Christ   280,  587 

Assertory  Act  of  Scotland   26 

Assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit   233 

Athanasius   378 

Atheism...,   427 

"     interpretative   624 

"     practical   624 

Athenagoras   362 

Athens,  the  Miser  of   320 

Attainment  of  an  enlarged  Heart   509 

Attainment  of  Purity  of  Life   703 

Attributes  of  God   698 

Ai.rnpvti.i   642 

Augustin   19,  94,  268,  4 ll,  .522 

Authority,  church   486 

"        civil   485 

«        of  Christ   280 

Averting  of  the  Divine  Anger   544 

Avoiding  of  too  much  Sleep   700 

Avoiding  of  unholy  Persons   440 

Awaking  sounded   519 

Awe  of  God   361 

B. 

Babbling  in  Prayer   428 

Babes,  newborn   126 

Babylon,  mystical   324 

Bad  Ground  for  the  Word   501 

Balaam   460 

"    Prophecy  of   414 

Baptism   644 

"     and  Preaching   417 

"     Efficacy  of   273 

«     End  of   272 

«     of  Christ   420 

"     of  Fire   687 

«     of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  Fire   420 

"     renouncing  of   278 

"     resemblance  of   277 


782 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Page. 

Baptismal  Vows   732 

Barah  Elohim   381 

Baseness  of  Men   436 

Baxter   723 

Bearing  Fruit  for  Christ   556 

Beatitic  Vision  of  God   659 

Bedell,  Life  of   46 

Beginning  of  spiritual  Life   130 

Beginninas  of  (irace   125 

Beins  of  God   660 

Belief  in  Divine  Providence   342 

Belief  of  the  Promises   133 

Believer,  a  Hero   495 

"       blessed   498 

"       Failh  of  the   245 

"       Fear  of  the   245 

"       Fears  tlie  Lord   498 

"       Life  of  the   536 

Believers   145,  147,  150 

"       Anointing  of   149 

"       Blemislies  of   166 

"       Blots  of   167 

«       Calling  of   151 

"       Consecration  of   149 

"        Garments  of   150 

"       Life  of   150 

«       Offerings  of   150 

«       Sacrifice  of   149 

"       Services  of   150 

^  Spots  of   167 

"       Union  of  with  Christ   191 

"       Washing  (if   149 

Believing  Heart.   232 

Bernard^                                               252,  376 

Betlilehem  Ephrataii   414 

Bethlehem  Judah   414 

Bethlehem,  Star  of   413 

Bible,  Harmony  of   411 

Birth  of  Christ  412,  415,  584 

Blameless  Way  of  a  Christian   240 

Blemishes  of  Believers   166 

Blessedness  of  the  Saints   70 

Blessins  of  a  Christian   218 

Blessinsis  of  Prayer   232! 

Blots  of  Believers   167  j 

Body,  Resurrection  of  the   593  j 

R'iV^iuta   638 

Bounty  of  God   700 

Bread  dailv,  Prayer  for   610 

Brevity  of  Life   389 

Brevity  of  Prayer   597 

Bridle  of  Speech   222 

Broken  Heart   229 

Brotherhood,  Love  of  the    175 

Brotherly  Love  115,  408 

"        "    Qualifications  of   116 

Brutishness  of  Men   436 

Burden  of  Sin   198 

Burial  of  Jesus   585 

Burnet,  Archbishop   28 

Burnet,  Gilbert  28,  46 

"     Character  of  Leishton,  by  46,  47 

«     Garlands  of,  for  Leishton  46,  47 

"     History  of  his  own  Times,  by   47 

«     Life  of  Bedell,  by   46 

"     Pastoral  Care,  by   47 

Businf-ss,  Dilisenpe  in   408 

Business  of  Christ  on  Earth   426 


Caesar. 


290 


Paob 

Calamities  interpreted   554 

Calamity  and  Sin   618 

Call  of  Christ   440 

Call  of  God  414,  417 

Calling  by  God   351 

Calling  effectual    66 

Calling  of  Believers   151 

Calmness  of  Mind    185 

Calumny   639 

Candidates,  Exhortations  to   708 

Candle  of  the  Ungodly  ,  464 

"  Canina  Fames"  '  638 

Cares   340 

Carnal  Friends   415 

Carnal  Mind   482 

Carnal  Security   513 

Catechism,  a  short   643 

Cause  of  Affliction   565 

Cause  of  Christ's  Sufferings   259 

Celibacy   202 

Centurion,  the   432 

"        Faith  of   432 

«         Prayers  of   432 

Cessation  from  Sin   284 

Chains  of  Sin   286 

Chambering   520 

Chambers  of  Death   293 

Change  from  Death  to  Life   194 

«       "     Solidity  of  the   194 

«       «     Universality  of  the   194 

Character  of  a  Christian   218 

Character  of  Ministers   577 

Character  of  the  Daushters  of  Sarah   207 

Character  of  the  Scriptures   696 

Character  of  the  Ungodly   545 

Character  of  those  who  love  Christ   479 

Characters  of  Christ's  Temptation   422 

Characters  of  Love — 

"        Goodness  in  the  Object   476 

"        Knowledge  of  that  Goodness   476 

"        Suitableness  of  the  Object  to  the 

Lover   476 

Characters  of  the  Royalty  of  Christ   417 

Char-jes  to  the  Clergy  726-728,  730,  732 

Charity   441 

«     Works  of   138 

Charles  11. — 

"          Accession  of   12 

"  Attempt  by,  to  force  Prelacy 

upon  Scotland   13 

"          Letter  of,  to  Leighton   45 

Chastisement   447 

Chastity                                             103,  634 

«     Rules  for   635 

Cheerful  Purpose   532 

Cheerfulness  in  the  Way  of  God   508 

Children — 

"       Appetite  of   126 

"       Innocency  of   126 

"       of  Disobedience    146 

«       of  Folly   537 

of  God,  Privileges  of   342 

«       of  Wisdom   537 

Choice  of  Society   22S 

Chosen  Generation   148,453 

Christ — 

"     Aereement  of,  with  John  the  Baptist  417 

"      Ambassadors  of   574 

"     Appearance  of   87 

"     Ark,  the   272 

"     Ascension  of   280 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


783 


Paoe. 

Christ,  Authority  of  .'   280 

«     Baptism  of   420 

"     Bearing  of  Sin  by   190 

«     Beauty  of   460 

«     Birth  of   412 

«     Bishop   201 

"     Business  of,  on  Earth   426 

«     Call  of   440 

«     Calling  of  Matthew  by   438 

«     Chief  Shepherd   329 

«     Church  of   328 

"     Coming  of   456 

«     Conformity  to   283 

"     Corner-Stone,  the   140 

"     Cure  of  Diseases  by   424 

«     Death  of   263 

"     Desire  of  Nations   412 

«     Disciples  of   643 

"     Disciples  of,  called   424 

"     Diseases  cured  by   424 

«     Doctrine  of   424,  535 

«      Earthly  Condition  of   434 

«     Example  of   185,  257 

«     Excellency  of   460,  476 

«     Fasting  of   421 

«     Following  of   434,  439,  643 

"     Foundation-Stone   140 

"     Genealogy  of   411 

«     Glorifying  of   243 

«     Glory  of   96,  282 

«        "    revealed   316 

"     Glory  of  the  Lord   460 

"     Gooilness  of   436,  476 

*'     Greatness  of   257 

"     Guilelessness  of   186 

«      Harbinger  of   417  ] 

«     Kigh  Priest   282 

«     Holiness  of   477 

"      Hotnat'e  to   416 

"     Hope  of  Nations   412 

"  Jiiilge  of  the  Quick  and  the  Dead. ..  294 

«     Knowledge  of   113,  461 

«      Lamb  of  God   102,  412 

«     Life,  our  461,  469 

«     Life  with   317 

"      Liuht  of  Believers   152 

«     Liirht  of  the  Church   454 

"     Loveliness  of   476 

«     Love  of   478 

"        "       inseparable   514 

«     Love  to   243,  476 

"     Lustre  of  the  Church   454 

«     Made  to  be  Sin   575 

"     M'.itcliless  Teacher,  the   450 

«     Mediator,  the   66 

«     M<'el<nfss  of   478 

"     Messiah,  the   478 

«     Mind  of   285 

"      Miracles  of   424,  431 

"      Mission  of   440 

«      Name  of  413,  478 

«     N:itivi(yof   411 

«     P^iticncc  of,  in  Suffering  ■  186 

"      Persecution  of   414 

«      Person  of   535 

"     Pliysicinn,  the   440 

«      Pfiwer  of   434 

«     Prenching  of   266,  423 

"  "       Ability  in   266! 

"  "       Activi'y  in   266  | 

'*     precLius   147  | 


I  Paob 

Christ,  Presence  of.   456,  457 

"     Preservation  of   414 

"     Prince  of  Peace   288,  415 

«     Purity  of   443 

"     quickened  by  the  Spirit   264 

"     Redemption,  our   540 

«      Redemption  bv   113,692 

"     Rejection  of   116 

"     Reproach  of   463 

"     Resurrection  of   76,  276,  280 

"    -Revelation  of   10' 

«     Righteousness  of  458,  511,  538,  540 

«     Royalty  of   417 

"     Sanctificaiion,  our   511,  538,  540 

"     Savior   413,  680 

"     Shepherd   201 

"  sitting  of,  at  the  right  Hand  of  God  280 

"     Spotlessness  of   186 

«     Stripes  of   198 

"     Sufferings  of   96,  185,  188,  256 

"  «       End  of  the   193 

«  Sun  of  Righteousness. .  88,  413,  457,  461 

«     Temptation  of   422 

«  «       Comfort  from   422 

«  "       Instruction  from   422 

«     Truth,  the   464 

«     Types  of   477 

«     Union  of,  with  Believers   191 

"     Watchman  of  Israel   435 

"     Way,  the   464 

«'     Wisdom,  our   539 

"     Witness  to   413 

«     Wonderful,  the,   413 

«      Worship  of  413,416 

«     Works  of   431 

Christian — 

"        Blamelessness   240 

«         Building   143 

«         Character  of  a   218 

«         Comfort  of  a   420 

«         Constancy   103 

«         Course   29$ 

"        E.\cellency  of   143 

"        Expectation   100 

"        Firmness  of   143 

"         Happiness   240,241 

Hope  7.5,  92 

"         Infancy   125 

"         Inheritance   218 

"         Knowledge   113 

Life.....   115,  286 

«        Love   304,  476 

"  "  Effects  of   306 

"  "  to  Christ   476 

"         Obedience   404 

"         Patience   184 

"        Rejoicing   316 

"        Religion   690 

"  "     Excellency  of   692 

«  «     Principles  of   650 

"  "     the  Way  to  Happiness  690 

«     Truth  of   692 

"        Shining  of  the   456 

"  "     constantly   458 

"  «     humbly   4.58 

«  «     jointly   4.o6 

"  "     personally   4;j6 

'•'  "     progressively   458 

«  "     publicly   4.56 

«         Spirit   71 

"        spiritually-minded,  the   520 


784 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


1 


Paoe.  • 

<;hristian  Suffering   184,  240,319 

"         the  besl  Subject   484  i 

«    ^    Triumph   509,  512  | 

•'hhistians,  Adoption  of   74  | 

"         AJleclions  of   290  1 

«         Arming  of   284  | 

"         Brotherlj  Love  of   115 

"         Calling  of  151,  154  , 

"  "      Requirements  of   184 

"         Chosen  of  God   148 

«        Comfort  of   100,  420 

"         Composure  of   315 

"        Conscience  of   251 

"         Consecration  of   149 

"  contrasted  with  Unbelievers. . .  148 

«         Conversation  of   167,  251 

"         Courtesy  of   216 

"         Defence  of   248 

"        Delight  of   89 

«        Desire  of  89,  129 

«        Dignities  of  134,  182 

"         Disnity  of   536 

«        Establishment  of   348 

«        Estate  of   148 

"         Expectation  ol"   101 

"        Experience  of   165 

"         Graces  of   405 

«         Growth  of   130 

"        Happiness  of   241 

"        Heaviness  of  ,   83 

«  «         Shortness  of  the...  84 

"        Hoi)e  of   75,  248 

"         Inec|ualitv  of.    253 

«         Infancy  of   125 

"         Inheritance  of  74;  76 

«        Joy  of  82,91 

"        Life  of   150 

"        Love  of   89,  214,  476 

«        Obedience  of   404 

"         Patience  of   184 

"        Peace  of   356 

«        Perfection  of   348  I 

"        Pilgrims   163 

"        Piety  of   214 

"        Priesthood  of   134,  148,  149 

«        Readiness  of   250 

"        Rejoicing  of   316 

"        Relation  of,  to  God   109 

"         Relation  of,  to  the  Worlil   109 

**        Service  of   150 

«        Settlement  of   348 

"        Sojourners   110 

«        State  of   68 

"  «     Cause  of  it   68 

«  "     Source  of  it   "  68 

«        Strangers  110,  163 

"         Strengthening  of   348 

«         Sufferings  of   184 

«        Svmpathv  of   212  | 

«        Taste  of   133  j 

Temple,  a   134 

"        Temptations  of   82 

"        Treasure  of   79 

"        Unanimity  of   210 

ChrysostQm    329,  527  | 

Church  of  Christ   328,  591  I 

«     Anglican,  Slate  of   12 

"     Authority  of  the   485 

«     Light  of  the   455 

"     Lustre  of  the   242,  455 

«     Ministers  of  the   311, 


Paoi 

Church  of  Christ,  Officers  in  the   407 

"     Shining  of  the   457 

"     Stability  of  the   492 

Civil  Authority    485 

Civil  Governments,  Honor  to   178 

"           "           Obligations  of   170 

Civil  Power,  Submission  to   169 

Cleansing  of  Ourselves   503 

Cleaving  to  Good   407 

Clergy,  Charges  to  the   726 

"      Sermon  to  the   574 

Comfort  for  Sinners   440 

Comfort  from  Christ's  Temptations   422 

Comfort  of  Christians                             100,  420 

Coming  of  Christ   456 

Commandments  or  God                 506,  530,  560 

«            Breadth  of   530 

"           Division  of   622 

"           Exposition  of   619 

"            Length  of   530 

«            Perfection  of   531 

«           Style  of   622 

Commentary  on  the  First  Epistle  of  Peter. .  63,  67 

Committing  of  the  Soul  to  God   316 

Communing  with  God   448 

Communion — 

"          Exhortation  before  the   704 

«          of  Saints   591 

"          Preparation  for   704 

«          with  Christ   92 

«          with  the  Heart   362 

Company  of  the  Saints   256 

Composure  of  C hrislians   315 

Concordia  Discordia   485 

Concupiscence,  Evil   640 

Condemnation,  Release  from   509 

Condition  of  Christ  on  Earth   434 

«       of  Men,  sad   515 

«          "        "  Cause  of   516 

Confession  of  Guiltiness   613 

«        of  Sin   369 

Confidence,  humble   340 

'«        Manner  of   469 

«        Object  of   467 

«        of  David   465 

«        of  Faith   531 

«        Time  of   469 

Conformity  to  Christ                            283,  294 

Conscience — 

«          defined   2fi2 

«          good,  a                       74,  252,  2V5 

"          Ingredients  of   252 

«          of  Christians   251 

«          pure   581 

«          toward  God   181 

Conscientious  Obedience   486 

Consideration  of  Christ's  Sufferings   256 

Constancy   103 

"      of  Obedience  to  God   508 

Constrainedness  in  Preaching   333 

Constraint   486 

Contemplation  of  God   526 

"          of  Providence   524 

Contempt  of  Mercy  punished  ,   545 

Contingency  of  Events   593 

Continuance  in  Prayer   410 

Conversation,  a  vain   HO 

«        aholv   209 

"        of  Christians   251 

Converse  with  unholy  Persons   439 

Conversion  75,  120,  403.  448,  486 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


785 


Page. 

Conviction    486 

Co-Presbyter,  Peler  a   329 

Cord  of  Necessity   485 

Corner-Stone,  Christ  the   140 

Correction  by  God   543 

Corruption  natural   481 

Countenance,  God's,  Light  of   526 

Counterfeit  of  Grace   336 

Courage  of  Saints   492 

Course  of  a  Christian   292 

«     of  the  World   292 

Courtesy   216 

Covering  of  Evil   306 

Coverins  of  Sin   366 

Covetousness  respecting  Preaching   334 

Cowper,  the  Poet  ■   39 

Creation — 

«       of  Man   673 

«       of  the  World                         381,  670 

«       Works  of   383 

Creed  a,  the  Object  of  Faith   619 

Creed,  Exposition  of  the   581 

Crown  of  Glory   334,  452 

«     of  Pride   453 

Crucifixion  of  Jesus   585 

Crucifixion  to  Sin   284 

^  Curae  levesloquuntur"   475 

Cure  of  Diseases  by  Christ   424 

Cure  of  the  Leper   432 

D. 

Daily  Bread,  Prayer  for   610 

Dangers  and  Trials   466 

Daniel   494 

Darius   494 

Dark  Night   519 

Daughters  of  Sarah  -   207 

David   173 

"    Confidence  of   465 

«    Humility  of   427 

«    Prayer  of   469 

"    Purpose  of   465 

«    Song  of   469 

«    Sympathy  of   471 

Day  of  Visitation   169 

Days,  Measure  of                                388,  389 

Days  of  Good   226 

Days  of  Noah   268 

Dead  Faith   380 

Dead  Ministers   403 

Dealing  unjustly,  Causes  of   637 

Death  and  Sleep   456 

«     Desire  of   397 

"     in  Sin   519 

*•     in  the  Flesh   296 

«     of  Christ.                                 263,  585 

"     Spiritual   456 

«<     to  Sin   193 

Debts,  Payment  of   487 

Decaloguf.   619 

«        Preface  to  the   620 

«        Precept  of  1   622 

«             «        II   625 

«             "        III   627 

«             «        IV   629 

«             "        V   631 

"             «        VI   633 

«             «        VII   634 

"             "        VIII   636 

•*            «        IX    638 

«            "        X   640 

99 


Paoe. 

Deceitfulness  of  the  Heart....   547 

Deception,  Self   431 

Decorum   521 

Decrees  of  God   668 

Defence  of  Christians   248 

"      of  moderate  Episcopacy   723 

Deformity  of  J>in   396 

Delay  of  Religion   435 

Delight  in  Christ   89 

Delight  in  God    496 

Delight  of  Prayer   232 

Delight  of  Saints   525 

Delightful  Society   659 

Delights  of  Religion   667 

Delights  of  Sense   528 

Deliverance  and  Repentance   517 

Deliverance  from  Evil   659 

Deliverances   681 

Deluge,  the   546 

Dependa  nee- upon  the  Holy  Spirit   233 

Depths,  the   370 

Descent  of  Jesus  to  Hell  ^_&S3- 

Design  of  the  Gospel  X.''  535 

Desire  for  Christ  .\  89 

"    for  Death   397 

"    of  Happiness  universal   660 

'•-    of  Life   397 

Destruction  of  the  Enemies  of  the  Church . .  545 

Detraction   639 

Dkvil,  the — 

"    a  roaring  Lion   346 

"    cited  Scripture   422 

"    our  Adversary   345 

"    Resistance  to   346 

Diadem  of  Beauty   452 

Dignities  of  Christians   134,  182 

Dignity  of  Christians   536 

Dignity  of  Prayer   232,  236,  299,  595 

Diligence  in  Business   408 

Directions  for  Prayer   232 

Directions  to  praise  God   354 

Disai)pointed  Prayer   228 

Discernment,  Clearness  of   429 

Disciples  of  Christ,  Calling  of   440 

"           "      Duty  of   643 

Discip'ine   726 

Disct)ntorr:-\v  to  the  World   294 

Discourse  ;   223 

Disease  of  Sin   198 

Diseases  cured  by  Christ   424 

Disguise  of  Grace   336 

Disobedience   145,267 

Disobedient,  the   145,267 

"          "  End  of   325 

'•          "  Folly  «f   146 

"          "  Unhappiness  of   1 16 

Dispensation  of  the  Word   500 

Disquietvnle  vain   429 

Dissembling,  Art  of   442' 

Distress,  Enlargement  in   358 

Distres."  in  the  World   242 

Divine  Attributes   698 

Divine  Grace   505' 

Divine  Knowledge   288 

Divine  Providence   450' 

"          "        Belief  in   342' 

Divine  Purpose    493' 

Divinity  of  the  Scriptures   699 

Divorce   426' 

Docile  Sufferer,  the   44(i 

DocTKiNE,  Author  of   94^ 


788 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


I'AOE. 

DocTKi.NK.  Bcinss  exercised  in   97 

"      '  MalUr  of   95 

"        ol' Christ   431 

"        of  Grace   90 

«        of  the  Gospel   94 

"        of  llie  ScriiHures,  Divine   696 

Doddridge,  Criticism  by,  on  Leiglilon's  Wri- 
tings  48 

"        Preface  by   59 

Dog-Hunger   638 

Doing  Good   224,  307 

Doing  Good  in  Secrecy   427 

Doom  of  the  Hypocrite   428 

Double-minded  Man,  the   103 

Doublencss   221 

Doublings,  spiritual   144 

Doubts  and  Fears   466 

Dove-like  Simplicity   442 

Doxology  to  the  Lord's  Prayer   617 

Drudgery  of  Sin   172 

Drunkenness. . ,   102,  520 

Dunghill  God,  the   344 

Duties  of  tlie  Ministry   577 

Duties  of  the  People  toward  their  Ministers  580 

Duty  of  Christ's  Disciples   643 

Duty  of  Husbands  and  Wives   202 

Duly  of  Prayer   232,  235,  595 

Duty,  present   558 

Duty  to  Superiors   632 

Duty  toward  God   489 

Dwell  at  Home   704 

Dwelling  in  God's  House   475 

E. 

Ears  01  the  Lord   231 

Earthliness   426 

Earthly-mindedness   444 

Edification   404 

Effect  of  Example   240 

EflVcts  of  Christ's  Death   197 

Effectual  Calling  66,  70 

Efficacy  of  Affliction   568 

"      of  Christ's  Example   258 

Esrypt,  Treasures  of   463 

Egyptian  Temples   454 

Ejaculatory  Prayer   291 

Elders   328,  334 

Election  eternal   66 

"       Evidence  of   511 

"      to  Obedience    66 

Elihu   448,  536 

Elijah  and  Elisha   424 

Eliphaz   464 

Encouragement  to  Holiness   503 

End  of  Affliction   567 

End  of  all  Thinss   302 

End  of  Christ's  Sufferings   193 

End  of  Man   388 

End  of  Preachins   312 

End  of  the  Calling  by  God   155 

End  of  the  Gospel   427 

Enemies,  Love  of   426 

Enemies  of  Religion   251 

Enemies  of  the  Church,  Destruction  of.   645 

V.vioKriTai  Ffi^iXdc   494 

Enlargement  in  Distress   358 

Enlargement  of  Heart   507 

"        Attainment  of   509 

Enmitv  against  God   481 

"      Injustice  of   484 

«     Unhappiness  of   484 


Paor 

P'nsainples,  Preacheis  should  be   333 

Envy   126,  52C 

Kpicletus  126,  >61,  498 

Ejiicureans,  Notions  of   670 

Episcopacy  in  Scotland   724 

"         Moderate   725 

"        Defence  of   723 

Equity  of  Prayer   299 

Equity,  Rule  of   430 

Erroneous  Opinions   624 

Error  of  Man   100 

Esau   164 

Eschewing  of  Evil . ,   224 

Establishment  of  Christians   348 

Esteem  of  the  World   529 

Eternal  Glory   352 

Eternal  Life    593 

Eternal  Punishment   690 

Evenness  in  the  Ways  of  God   508 

Events,  Contingency  of   493 

"     Liberty  of   493 

"     Necessity  of   493 

Evidence  of  Injection   511 

Evil,  Abhorrence  of   407 

"  Concupiscence   64? 

"  Deliverance  from  616,  659 

"  Doers   227,  320 

«  Heart   437 

"  Prayer  for  Deliverance  from   616 

"  pre-apprehended   534 

«  Speaking   126,  219,251 

«       "       Eschewing  of   223 

«       «       Injustice  of   251 

«              Remedy  of   221 

"       "           «        Rules  for   251 

«  Thoughts   490 

"  Tongue   641 

"  Tongues  of  the  Ungodly   251 

"  Treasure   441 

Examination,  Self   336 

Example,  Efiect  of   240 

"      of  Christ   185,  257 

"                   Obligations  from  the  .. .  187 

«      of  the  Saints   256 

Excellency  of  Christ   476 

«         of  the  Christian  Religion   692 

Excess  of  Riot   292 

Excuses  for  Delay  in  Religion   434 

Exercise  in  Affliction   569 

"      of  Prayer   232 

Exhortation  before  the  Communi'^n   704 

«        to  Students   706 

Exhortations  to  Candidates   708,721 

Experience,  particular   491 

Expectation  of  Christians   100 

Expiation   66 

Exposition  of  the  Creed   581 

"        of  the  Lord's  Prayer   594 

"        of  the  Ten  Commandments   619 

Expository  Lectures — 

«           «        on  Psalm  xxxix   385 

«            «        on  Isaiah  vi   398 

"           "        on  Romans  xii   404 

External  Reformation   253 

"      Testimnnv  to  the  Scriptures   696 

Eye-Witnesses  of  Christ   329 

Eyes  of  the  Lord   229 

F. 

Face  of  the  Lord   230 

Fading  Flower   453 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


787 


Page. 

Faith   63,  81,  435,  582,  644 

"     and  Hope   101 

"     appropriating   147 

"     Confession  of   550 

"     Confidence  of   531 

"     dead   380 

«     Effects  of   197 

«     End  of   91 

"     Excellency  of   85 

"     invincible   "73 

"     iVlistakes  concerning   143 

"     My  stery  of   581 

«     Necessities  of   145 

"     Prayer  i>{   550 

"     Pretences  to   144 

"     purifyin?   144 

"     Requirements  of   698 

"     Steadfastness  in  the   346 

"     Strength  of   571 

"     Trial  of   570 

«     with  Prayer   396 

"      Working  of   88 

Faithfulness  of  God   499 

Fall,  Letters  of   47 

False  Prophets   431 

False  Witness   489 

Fasting   427 

"     of  Christ     421 

Favor  of  God   241 

Fear  or  God.  .  107,  176,  250,  379,  486,  494,  504 

"    Continuance  of   110 

«    distrustful   435 

«    filial   108 

"    Ground  of   115 

«    Household  of   117 

«    Object  of   115 

"    servile   108 

"    Warrant  of   115 

Fears  and  Doubts   466 

"    within   325 

Feeding  of  the  Flock  of  God   33 1 

Felicity  true   691 

Fervency  in  Prayer   234,  395,  430 

Fervor  of  Spirit   409 

Festivities  of  the  World   529 

Fidelity  in  Preachine   311 

«     of  God.....'   328 

"     of  Ministers   578 

Fiery  Trials   313 

Fighting  Life   313 

Fighlinss  without   325 

Filth  of  the  Flesh   277 

Filthiness   66 

"      Cleansing  of   503 

File  of  Hell   126 

First  Resurrection   125 

Fishers  of  Men   424 

Fishin?,  Art  of   424 

Fixed  Heart   355 

Fh  shly  Lusts   162 

"        "    Abstinence  from   165 

Flock  of  God   331 

Followers  of  Christ                              4.34,  439 

"       of  God   240 

"       of  Good   238 

Following  of  Christ                 434,  439,  559,  643 

"       of  Good   241 

Folly  of  Man   541 

Fool   127 

Fofdish  Builders   404 

"     Lusls   340 


P*OB. 

Foolishness  of  Freaching   33l 

Fools,  Rest  of   523,  537 

Forbearance  of  God   556 

Force  of  Speaking   431 

Foreknowledge  of  God  67,  69 

Forgiveness   217 

«        from  God   377 

"        of  Iniquity   365 

"        of  Injuries   426 

«        of  Sin   437,  592 

«           "    Prayer  for   614 

Formal  Ministers   403 

Formality  in  Prayer   430 

Inundation-Stone,  Jesus  Christ  the   140 

«           «     Building  on  the   142 

"           «     Laying  of  the   141 

Fountain  of  living  Waters   470 

Fragment  on  Ezra  ix   725 

"       on  Psalm  viii   381 

Fragrancy  of  the  Name  of  Jesus   475 

Frailty  of  Man   121,  389 

Free  Grace   418 

Freeness  of  the  Grace  of  God   181 

Fretful  Impatience   409,  572 

FiiendsofGod   484 

Fruitless  Speech   220 

Fruits  of  Christian  Love   306 

"    of  Repentance   419 

"    of  the  Spirit   557 

Fulfilling  of  the  Law   489,  560 

Fulfilment  of  Prophecy   423 

G. 

Gadarene.s   436 

Garments,  white   521 

Genealogy  of  Christ   411 

"  Genus  irritabile  vatum"   437 

Germany,  Sin  of   577 

Gifts  and  Graces   309 

Gladness  of  Heart   364 

Glorifyins  of  Christ   242 

"     "of  God   312 

Glory  ascribed  to  God   353 

"    Crown  of   334 

«    eternal...   352 

«    of  Christ   96 

"    of  Man   122 

"    of  the  Lord   459,  462 

"    Partakers  of     330 

"    revealed   3;n 

Glorying  in  the  Lord   541 

Vi".}fit  ataVTov   635 

GOD— 

"    Ability  of   328 

"    altogether  lovely   90 

«    Anger  of   543 

"        "       Averting  of   544 

«    Attributes  of   698 

«    Awe  of   361 

"    Being  of   660 

"    Bestowment  of  Mercy  by   621 

«    Bounty  of   483,  700 

«    Calling  of   154 

«    Children  of   342 

"    Commandments  of   505 

"             "             perfect   530 

"    consuming  Fire   484 

"    Contemplation  of   526 

"    Conviction  by   543 

"    Countenance  of   526 

«           «          Light  of   526 


788 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Paof. 

GOD,  Decrees  of   6()8 

"  Existent  e  of.  ...  ,   699 

«  fiiilhful  Creator   328 

"  Fiiithfuliiess  of   499 

"  Father   109,  582,  .')99 

"  Father  of  Lights   15,3 

"  Favor  of   2-11 

«  Fear  of   176,  250,  379 

«  Fidelity  of   328 

Flock  of   331 

"  Followers  of   240 

"  Forbearance  of   556 

<  Foreknowledge  of  67,  69 

"  Forgiveness  from   377 

«  Friends  of   484 

"  Glorifying  of   312 

«  Glorv  of   450,  617 

"  Goodness  of   132,  499,  515,  700 

«  Good  Will  of   342 

"  Government  of   677 

"  Grace  of   63,  356,  483 

"  Graciousncss  of   132 

«  Greatness  of   617 

«  "  Praise  for   618 

«  Hand  of   338 

"  Happijiess  in   695 

«  Hiding  of  the  Face  of   570 

"  Holiness  of   107,  700 

"  Holy  One  of  Israel   546 

"  Ignorance  of   624 

«  Image  of  76,519 

«  Jewels  of   136 

"  Judse   109 

«  Judgment  of   108 

"  Justice  of   700 

«  King  of  Glory   618 

"  Kingdom  of   605,  617 

"  Knowledge  of.  Absolute  and  Perfect. .  677 

"  Likeness  to   521 

«  Long-Suffering  of   268 

"  Love  of.   157 

"  Love  to   408,  470,  474,  489 

"  Loving  Kindness  of   467,  526 

"  Majesty  of   398 

«  Marking  Iniquity  •   375 

«  Mercy  of   76,  158,  548,  700 

«       «         Bestowment  of   621 

«  Message  of   402 

Name  of,  hallowed   603,  629 

"  Nearness  to   260 

"         «  Privation  of   261 

"        «  Restoration  to   261 

"  Obligations  to  "   622 

«  of  all  Grace   350 

"  of  Righteousness   358 

"  Omnipotence  of   582 

«  our  Life   469 

«  Patience  of   483,  556 

«'  People  of   158 

«  Power  of  81,  617,  700 

«  Praise  to   484 

"  Prerogative  of   564 

«  Presence  of   701 

«  Protection  of   241 

"  Purity  of   443 

"  .Rejoicing  in   534 

«  -Relation  to   622 

"  Reverence  of   619 

"  Sanctifying  of,  in  the  Heart   244 

«  «      ^  Effects  of   245 

«  Searcher  of  Hearts   459 


GOD, Shield,  the    463 

"    Sons  of   605 

«    Sovereignty  of                              1C9,  622 

"    Teaching  of   541 

"    Union  with   263 

"    Universal  Sovereignty  of   62} 

"    unwilling  to  afflict  his  People   566 

"    Vision  beatific  of   66t 

"    Warning  by   26f 

"    Will  of   171,  287,  60' 

«    Wisdom  of   701 

«    Word  of   123 

«       "       Operation  of  the   131 

«    Worship  of                                450,  664. 

Godliness   72 

"       Mystery  of   584 

Godly  Men — 

"    Preservation  of  the   271 

«    Sorrow  of   470 

«       "      Nature  of   472 

Godly  Sorrow   471 

"God-Man"   412 

Good — 

"    Cleaving  to   407 

"    Conscience   275 

"          "        Answer  of   275 

"    Constancy  of   224 

"    Conversation   168 

«    Days   226 

«    Doing  of   224 

"    done  in  Secret   427 

"    Exactness  of   224 

«    Following  of   241 

"    Heart...   502 

"    Tidings   680 

"    Universality  of   224 

"    Will  of   342 

«    AVill  to  Christ   89 

«    Works,  Merit  of   376 

Goodness  of  Christ   476 

"          "       Expression  of   478 

«      of  God   500,  700 

«      of  the  Lord   132 

Good  Will  to  Christ   89 

«      «    of  God   342 

Gospel  by  Matthew,  Lectures  on   411 

"     Design  of   535 

«     End  of   427 

«     Light  of  the   153 

"       "     Marvellous   153 

"     Not  a  Doctrine  of  Licentiousness. . .  418 

«     of  God     325 

"     preached  ,   479 

"     Preaching  of  the. .    294 

Government  of  God  Universal   677 

Grace  of  God   63,  356 

"     a  Divine  Light   527 

"     and  Glory   71 

"     and  Obedience   505 

"     and  Peace  71,  72 

"     assisting   72 

"     Beginnings  of   125 

«     Counterfeit  of   336 

"     disguised   336 

"     Doctrine  of   96 

"     Freeness  of   181 

"     given  to  the  Humble   337 

"     Growth  in   131 

«     in  Conflict   292 

"     Increase  of     337 

«     of  Life   208 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


789 


Paoe.  I 

G«ACE,  Perseverance  in   318 

"     preventing   72 

"     Progress  in   348 

«     Riches  of   483 

«     Safely  of   337 

«     State  of   459 

«     Supernatural   684 

«     Wori<ing  of   72 

Graces  and  Gifts   309 

"     of  Christians   405 

"     of  the  Spirit   304 

Gracious  Discourse   223 

Graciousness  of  the  Lord   132 

Grapes  from  Thorns   490  j 

Grass,  Frailty  of   122 

Grief — 

«    Degrees  of   472 

"    generous    470 

«    Nature  of   473  ! 

"    Object  of   471 

«    Subject  of   472 

Ground  for  the  Word   501 

"     Good   502 

"     Highway   501 

"     Stony   501  ; 

«     Thorny   501  I 

Growth  in  Grace   131  I 

«     in  spiritual  Life   298  { 

«     of  Christians   130  ] 

Gnidance  of  Christ   20] 

Guile   221 

Gutlelessness   367 

"         of  Christ   186 

Guiltiness   66 

"      of  Sin   198,  562,  613 

"        "     Confession  of  the   613 

H. 

Habakkck — 

"        Fear  of   532 

«        Joy  of   534 

«        Prophecy  of   532 

«        Song  of    533 

"        Trust  of   53 1 

Haman   642 

Hand  of  God   338 

Hannibal     421 

Happiness   694 

"       Desire  for   649 

"             "       Universal   650 

"       in  God   695,  698 

"       Name,  the   694 

"       Nature  of   695 

"       not  confined  to  Earth   696 

"       not  on  F.arth   653 

"       of  Christians   240,241 

"       of  Man   650 

"       of  the  Life  to  come   658 

"       only  from  Holiness   693 

"       Search  after   652 

«       Way  of   430,  692 

Harbinser  of  Christ   417 

Harmony  of  the  Scriptures   411 

Hatred   639 

Healing   403 

"     of  Sin   199 

Heulth,  Blessing  of   433 

Hearing  of  Prayer   232,  234 

"      of  the  Word   502 

Heart,  Communion  with  the   362 

«     Gladness  of   364  , 


Heart,  holy                                         229,  232 

"     honest   502 

"     humble   229 

"     liberal   428 

«     Murder    633 

"     Preparation  of  the   233 

"     Sinsleness  of   427 

«     Softness  of   474 

Heaven,  Kingdom  of   423 

"      Obedience  in   609 

<'      Way  to   691 

Heavenly-Mindedness  of  Ministers   578 

"       Wisdom   441 

Heaviness  of  Christians   83 

«                "        Shortness  of   84 

«                «        Utility  of   83 

Heirs  of  Life   208 

Heirship  with  Christ   683 

Hell,  Prison  of   424 

Herod  the  King   414 

"            "    Anger  of   415 

"            "    Fear  of   415 

«            "    Trouble  of   414 

Herodotus   493 

Hezekiah   452 

Hilling  of  God's  Face   570 

Highway   501 

Highways  of  Impiety   238 

Hinderance  to  Prayer   209 

Hoarv  Head   334 

Holiness   106,  458,  631 

"       Breadth  of   503 

"       Depth  of   504 

"       Imaue  of  God   519 

"       in  Preaching   Ill 

"       Length  of   503 

"       Motives  to   504 

«       Of  God    700 

"       only  Source  of  Happiness   693 

"       Perfection  of   106,  504 

"       Rule  of   240 

Holy  Diligence   513 

"  Ghost,  the   590 

«   Heart   229,  232 

Life   138,  732 

I  "     "  Instructions  for   734 

«      "  Rules  for   732 

"   Obedience   505 

"   Spirit,  the   68 

"       "         Assistance  of   233 

Holyrood  House,  Meeting  at   27 

Homage  to  Christ   413 

Honest  Heart   502 

Honor  of  the  World   529 

«     to  CJod   487 

«     to  Men   174 

«     to  Others   408 

"     to  Parents   631 

Hope   75,  92,  101 

"  amid  Billows   464 

«    in  the  Lord   392 

«   of  Christians   248 

"   of  Glory   107 

Horace   363,364,  499 

Hospitality   308 

House  of  God,  dwelling  in   475 

«          "      Judgment  in   322 

"     of  Prayer...   395 

Household  of  Faith   117 

Human  Liberty   678 

Humble  Confidence   340 


790 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Page 

Hiiiiilile  Heart   22!) 

Huimlil)  2:^9,  334,  395,  40,") 

"       in  Piaver   395 

"       of  David   427 

"      of  Miiiisiers   578 

Husbands,  Duty  of   202 

"  Honor  fioiii   208 

"  Knowledge  of   207 

HiUcliinson,  Geoigt-   26 

Hypocrisy   128,  427,  459 

Hypocrite,  Cral't.   442 

«       Doom  of   428 


I. 

Identity  of  Religion  

Idolatry   287,  444, 

lijnis  Katuus  

Ignorance  and  Sin  

,j      "       inconsistent  with  Religion  

«       of  God  

"       of  the  Law  of  God  

Illuinination  

Iinaiie  of  God   76,  519,631, 

Imitators  of  Good  

"  Immobilis"  

Immoderate  Speech  

Immortality  of  the  Soul  

Impalii-nce   409, 

Impenitence,  Sleep  of  

Impeiiitency   269, 

Imperfect  Perfection  

Imperfection  and  Perfection  

Impiety,  Hisihways  of  

Importunity  of  Prayer  

Impurity  

"  discovered  

Increase  of  Grace  

"       of  spiritual  Life  

Inequality  of  Christians   

Infallibility  of  all  Events  praising  God  

Infancy  of  Christians  

"  Infelix  lolium"  


6i 

ft 

il 

U 

(C 

(( 

cc 

(( 

<( 

Title  to  

<c 

(C 

Iniquity,  Visitation  of. 

"       Forgiveness  of  

"       marked  by  God  

"       taken  away  

Injuries  

Injustice  in  Dealins;  

"       of  Evil-Speakin?  

Innocency  of  Children  

In>cription  to  the  First  Epistle  of  Peter. 

Instability  

Integrity  of  Ministers  

Interest  in  Christ  

Internal  Character  of  (he  Scriptures. . . . 

'  Inlerprelatio  spei"  

Interpretation  of  Calamities  

Introduction  to  Theological  Lectures. . . 
lovin'-ible  


252 
624 
458 
105 
443 
624 
474 
687 
675 
238 
492 
701 
655 
572 
456 
515 
67 
527 
286 
396 
426 
640 
337 
130 
253 
493 
125 
502 
,76 
74 
,  80 
79 
80 
77 
80 
81 
218 
74- 
78 
79 
626 
365 
376 
400 
217 
637 
251 
126 
63 
103 
576 
2.58 
692 
619 
554 
646 
573 


Invocation  of  Angels  and  Saints   62^ 

Irish  Rebellion   324 

Isaiah,  Prediction  of   419 

"     vi..  Expository  Lectures  on   398 

«     Vision  of   398 

Israel,  "  I  he  Lord's  Son"   414 

"     Watchman  of   435 

Israelites  in  the  Wilderness   522 

J. 

Jehoshaphat   521 

Jerusalem,  Destruction  of   556 

Jesus — 

"    Appearance  of   87 

"    Ascension  of   587 

«    Author  of  Faith   507 

"    Birth  of  412,  584 

«    Burial  of   585 

"    called  a  Nazarite   414 

"    calling  his  Disciples   424 

"    C  rucifixion  of   585 

«    Death  of   585 

«    Descent  of,  into  Hell   585 

"    Finisher  of  Faith   507 

«    Judge  of  the  Quick  and  the  Dead   589 

"    King  of  the  Jews   414 

«    looking  to     293,  507 

«    Miracles  of   424 

"    Pv'ame  of,  fragrant   475 

"    Name  illustrated  413,  478 

"    Pearl  of  great  Price   430 

«    Preaching  of   423 

"    Preparation  for   424 

«    "Primum  inteliigibile"   460 

«    public  Calling  of   424 

"    Resurrection  of.   76,  586 

"    Revelation  of   101 

«    Rock  of  Salvation   431 

"    Sitting  at  the  right  Hand  of  God   ,587 

«    Son  of  God  '.   584 

"    Sufferings  of   585 

"    Sun  of  Righteousness   88 

«    Wisdom  of  God   443 

Jewels  of  God   136 

Job   435,  493 

John  the  Baptist   417 

"    Agreement  of.  with  Christ   417 

"    Course  of  Life  of   419 

"    Doctrine  of   419 

«    Habits  of   419 

"    imprisoned   423 

«    Office  of   417 

"    Preacher  of  Repentance   418 

«    Preaching  of   417 

Jonah  asleep   435 

Joseph,  directions  to,  from  God   412 

«    Doubts  of   412 

«    Dream  bv   412 

«    Obedience  of   412 

Joshua   527 

Joy  of  Christians   82,  87,  91 

"            "         Appropriation  of   88 

"           «        Causes  of   92 

«  «        Excellency  of  

Judgment   269,  322 

bv  Christ   589 

"        Congruity  of   323 

«        Equity  of   32? 

"        Foresigns  of   324 

"        in  the  House  of  God   322 

«        Mercy  of.   323 


IISDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


791 


Paoe. 

UDOrjiNT  of  God   429 

"  "     Equity  >f   109 

«  "     Exactness  of   109 

«  «     Extent  of   109 

"  "     Impartialily  of   109 

"  «     Universalit'v  of   109 

«        the  final   294 

Judging  of  Men   429 

"  Absurdity  of   429 

"  «  Danger  of   429 

Julian,  the  Apostate   426,  494 

Justice  of  God   700 

Justification  66,  457 


Kempis  

King  of  Terrors  

King-Craft  

Kingdom  ok  God  

"       Blessings  of  

"       Coining  of  

"       Nature  of  

"      Prayer  for  

Kingdom  of  Heaven  418, 

Knowledge,  Acijuisition  of,  by  Man  

"  coimnon  

"  (if  Christ  

«  of  God  

"  of  the  Divine  Law   

«  of  the  Will  of  God  

«  right   113, 

spiritual.  . .   


Knox,  John. 


L. 

"  Lachrymer  inanes"  

Lamb  of  God  

Lauderdale  2!: 

"         Speecli  of  

Laughing  Philosopher  

Laughter,  M  idness  

Laver  of  Regeneration  '  

Law  and  Prophets  

Law,  the — 

"    Discovery  of  

"    drives  us  from  Ourselves  

"    Excellency  of  

"    Exercise  of  Love  «... 

"    given  to  Man  

"    humbles  us  

"    Ministration  of  Death  

«    of  God  

«        "    Heishtof  the  Original  

"        "    Iirnorance  of  

"        "    Keepin?  of  

"        "    Knowledge  of  

"        "    Largeness  of  the  Acting  of . . . . 

«        "  "  "      Object  of  

"    Perfection  of  

"    Jud^'ment  of  

«    restrains  the  Wickedness  of  Men  

"    Rule  of  Equity  to  Men  

"    Rule  of  Life  

«    Rule  of  Piety  to  God  

"    Rules  to  understand  

"    Spiritual  Sense  of  

"    'I'a-hles  of  

Trial  of  Love  

'•    Writer  of,  on  the  Heart  

"    written  on  the  Heart  

"       "      Necessity  of.   


556 
195 
415 
605 
606 
606 
605 
606 
423 
699 
442 
461 
677 
448 
288 
474 
160 
13 


473 
412 
,26 

27 
472 
529 

75 
425 

620 
620 
620 
619 
664 
620 
620 
448 
489 
474 
470 
448 
488 
488 
620 
41 
621 
631 
621 
631 
620 
426 
631 
619 
562 
560 
563 


Page. 

Leading  of  the  Spirit   421 

League  and  Covenant  of  Scotland  31,  724 

Lebanon   137 

Lecture  on  Romans  xii   404 

Lectures — 

«       on  Isaiah  vi   398 

"       on  Psalm  xxxix   385 

"       on  the  Gospel  by  Matthew   411 

Leighton,  Alexander   7 

I^EiGHToN,  Robert  7,  739 

"         Abstinence  of   39 

"         Amiableness  of   40 

«        Anecdotes  of   10,  39,  40,  46 

"        Aphorisms  of   43 

"        Articles  of,  for  a  Uniou  with  the 

Covenanters   24 

"         Attainments  of   47 

"        became  a  Prelate  12,  14 

«  "     Archbishop   26 

"         Beneficence  of   17 

"         Birthplace  of   8 

"         Character  of  36,  47 

"        Charges  by   20 

«        College-Life  of    8 

"         Consecration  of,  to  the  Prelacy..  18 

"         Critical  View  of  his  Works  .50-52 

"         Criticisms  on  Preachins,  by .  . . .  21 

«        Death  of   46 

"        Definition  of*' the  Mark  of  the 

Beast,"  by   40 

"  Deliverance  of,  from  Drowninsr..  10 
"        Denialby,  of  the  Title,  "Lord!"  19 

"         Discipline  of   21 

«         early  Life  of   8 

"  Ecclesiastical  Constitution  of. ..  32 
"        Election  of,  as  Presdent  of  the 

University  of  Edinburgh   11 

"  Enemy  of  monastic  Seclusion. . .  36 
"         Entrance  of,  on  the  Ministry. . .  9 

"        Epitaph  of   46 

"         Example  of   39 

"         Excellence  of,  in  the  Pulpit. ...  50 

"         Fancy  of   50 

"        Family  of   7 

«         Father  of   7 

"        Fondness  for  Music   44 

"         Fraud  upon   10 

«        Frusality  of   53 

«        Garlands  of,  by  Burnet  46,47 


Generosity  of. 
Hatred  of  Persecution,  by. , 


46 
40 


Humility  of   43 

Income  of   54 

Indulgences  of   39 

Interment  of   46 

Interview  of,  with  Charles  II. ..  22 
Letter  of,  concerning  the  prelati- 

cal  Dignity   16 

Letter  to,  from  Charles  II   45 

Letters  of.. .  16,  20,  32,  31,  38,  41,  42 

 44,  4.5,  .54,  57,  761-767 

Liberality  of   40 

Life  of   7 

Love  of  rural  Scenery,  by   44 

Meelins  of,  with  the  Presbyte- 
rians, at  Holyrood-House   27 

Missions  appointed  by   28 

Obieclions  by,  to  the  Office  of 

Prelate   15 

Offers  of  Acoommodation,  by . . .  30 

Opposed  to  Persecution   40 


792 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Pace. 


Leiiiiiton,  Pc(li;:ree  of   7 

"         Piety  of   38 

*■■         Plan  In,  to  \)urge  the  Church .. .  28 

"         Pulpit  Oratory  of   741 

"         Purity  of   50 

«        Uefusul  by,  to  sit  in  the  Parlia- 
ment  19 

"        Religious  Abstraction  of   38 

Reurdiiiation  of   17 

•*         ResidoiK'f  of,  in  liis  See   19 

"        Rtsiijniition  of  his  Arclibishop- 

ric,  by  35, 36 

"        Speech  of,  for  Reconciliation. ...  29 
"             "         on  the  Oath  ol'  Su- 
premacy  19 

•«        Travels  of   8 

«         Treaty  by,  rejected   30 

"         Views  of,  on  ecclesiastical  Polity  38 

«         Visit  of,  to  Lord  Perth   45 

«         Will  of   53 

«•         'Wilbdrawment  of,  from  his  See  22,  35 

"        Writings  by...  i   48 

ecov   487 

leper,  the   431 

"       Approach  of,  to  Christ   431 

"       Confidence  of   431 

«'       Cure  of   432 

«       Humility  of   431 

«       Worship  of  Christ,  by   431 

Letter  of  James  Mitchell   11 

"    to  Leiahlon  from  Charles  II   45 

Letters  of  Leishton. .  16,  20,  32,  34,  38,  41,  43-45 

  54,  57,  761-767 

Liberality  of  Heart   428 

Liberty,  human   678 

"      of  Events   493 

«      of  the  Will   542 

LlF»  

"    a  lone   226 

"    Blessinffs  of   654 

«    Brevity  of   389 

"    Desire  of   397 

«    Eternal   593 

«    holy   732 

"    Instructions  for  a  holy   732 

"    of  Believers,  from  God,  through  Christ  536  j 

«    of  Holiness   138 

«    of  John  Knox   13 

«    Periods  of   653 

"    Purilv  of   702 

«    Rules  for  a  holy   732 

"    spiritual   130 

«    to  come   658 

«          "    Happiness  of   659 

"    to  Rishteousness   196 

«    with  Christ   317  I 

Liglit,  a  Representation  of  Christ   461 

"    of  God's  Countenance   526 

«    of  the  Church   454 

«    of  the  World   425 

"    Likeness  to  God   521  j 

Limits  about  Mount  Sinai   619  ] 

Living  after  the  Flesh   686  1 

«     Hope   75  ' 

«     to  God                                      291,  294  ! 

"     Waters,  Fountain  of   470 

Ix)ne-Suflcring  of  Goi   268 

Lookinsi  to  Jesus                                 293,  50^ 

Lord,  the — 

"       Anger  of   237 

«       Ears  of   231  , 


Paoi 

Lord,  the  Eyes  of   223 

"       Face  of   230 

"       Glory  of   462 

"       Good  Providence  of.   231 

"       Love  of   231 

«       of  Hosts   450 

"       Service  of   409 

«       Shield,  the   463 

«       waiting  for   380 

Lord's  Day   631 

Prayer   594 

"        «     Brevity  of   597 

«       "     Doxoloey  to   6l7 

"       "     Necessity  of   594 

«        "      Order  of   597 

"        «     Preface  of  the   599 

«       "     prescribed   596 

"       "     Use  of   594 

Lord's  Supper   644 

"        "     Admission  to   644 

Loss  of  the  Soul   464 

Love — 

"    Brotherly  213,408 

"        "       Fervency  of   116 

"        «       Purity  of   117 

"         "       Sincerity  of   116 

«    Characters  of   476 

"    Evidence  of  Election   508 

«    Fulfilling  of  the  Law   560 

"    grows  by  Opposition   514 

«    Power  of   470;  478 

Love  in  Christians — 

"  "       Decree  of   306,  407 

«             «       Fruits  of   306 

"             «       Nature  of   300 

«             "       Union  of,  with  Prayer...  305 

Love  of  Christ  Inseparable   614 

"    of  Enemies   426 

«    if  God   157 

«    of  the  Brotherhood   176 

"    of  Sin   448 

«    of  Vanity   360 

«    to  Christ   89,  92,  197,  243,  476 

«         «       Evidences  of   480 

"    to  God   408,  470,  473,  487,  561 

Loveliness  of  Christ   476 

Lovers  of  Pleasure   482 

Loving  Kindness  of  God   464,  467 

"           "       Assurance  of   465 

'<           «       Participation  of   468 

■«           "       Time  of   469 

Loving  Kindness  of  the  Lord   525 

Lucian   454 

Luke,  Gospel  of   411 

Lust   489 

"   making  Provision  for   522 

Lustre  of  the  Church   454,  459 

Lusts  of  Men   105,  286 

Luther   240 

"     the  Schoolmasters  of   421 

Lying   638 

M. 

Macarii,  the   364 

Mackenzie's  History  of  Scotland   23 

Madness  of  Men   556 

Masi,  the   413 

Magical  Arts   624 

Magnanimity  of  Ministers   579 

Majesty  of  God   398 

Malice   126 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTiS 


79: 


Page 

Malice  of  Satan   436 

Man — 

"    Creitionof.   673 

"    Dominion  of   675 

"    Folly  of                                     123,  541 

«    Glory  of   122 

"    Image  of  God  in   675 

"    Liberty  of   678 

"    on  Earth  a  Sojourner  and  a  Stranger . .  396 

«    Original  Dignity  of   676 

«    Structure  of   674 

«    Vanity  of                                   121,  390 

"   Vitiated  Condition  of   676 

•'Manhood  of  God"   411 

Manner  of  Prayer   597 

Man's  Nature,  Misery  of   482 

Mantle  of  Christ's  Righteousness   458 

"Mark  of  the  Bea?t"   40 

Marriage   202 

Martyr's  Answer  to  the  Emperor   498 

Marvellous  Doctrine  of  Christ   431 

Masters  of  Arts,  Exhortations  to   708 

Matter  of  Prayer   597 

Matthew,  Call  of   438 

"      Gospel  by.  Lectures  on   411 

M'Crie's  Life  of  John  Knox   13 

Measure  of  our  Days   389 

Meditation   421 

Meditations — 

«          on  Psalm  iv   357 

«          on  Psalm  xxxii   365 

"          on  Psalm  cxxx   370 

Meekness   239,  250,  425 

«      of  Ministers   578 

Meeting  at  Holy  rood-House   27 

Melchisedec   363 

Men — 

"    base  and  brutish   436 

"    held  by  God   416 

"    Madness  of   556 

'■'    Wickedness  of   515 

Mercy   442,700 

"     despised   545 

"     of  God   76,  158,  518,  700 

«     Seat,  the   160 

Merit  of  good  Works   376 

Message  from  God   402 

Messiah,  the   478 

Meum  and  Tuum   489 

Middh'ton,  character  of   14 

Mi!k  of  the  Word   129 

"  pure   128 

"  rational   130 

Milky  Way   459 

Mind,  Moderation  of   428 

"     of  Christ   285 

Ministers  of  tiik  Church   311 

"         Fidelity  of   578 

"         Friends  with  God   578 

"         hrn^ble   578 

"         Magnanimity  of   579 

"        meek   578 

"         not  earthly-minded-   578 

«        Piety  of   577 

"         privy  Trials  of   739 

"         Prudence  of   578 

«         righteous   578 

*        Strengtheness  of  the  Brethren..  .577 

Ministry  of  Reconciliation   575 

"                "             Duties  of  the. ...  577 

"                «             Pretenders  to  the  576 
100 


Page 

Ministry  of  Reconciliation,  Qualifications  ft  r 

the   579 

Miraculous  Works  of  Christ   431 

Miser  of  Athens   320 

Misery  of  Man's  Nature   482 

«     of  Sinners   157 

«     of  the  Lost   433 

Mission  of  Christ   440 

Mistakes  concerning  Faith   143 

"             "        the  Sacraments   273 

Mitchell,  James,  Letter  by  •   11 

Moderate  Episcopacy,  Defence  of   723 

Moderation   429,  441 

"        of  Mind   428 

Mohammed's  Mountain   154 

Morality   443 

Mordecai   642 

Motives  to  Obedience   621 

Mount  Sinai,  Limits  around   619 

Mundus  immundus   471 

Murder   426 

Mutual  Subjection   335 

Mystery  of  Faith   581 

«     of  Godliness   584 

«      of  the  Trinity   582,  664 

Mystical  Babylon     445 

N. 

Name  of  God,  Use  of   629 

"    of  Jesus,  Fragrancy  of   475 

Naphtali   11 

Nathaniel   438 

Natural  Corruption   481 

Nature  of  Man,  Misery  of   483 

Nazarite   414 

Nazianzen   421 

Nearness  to  God   260 

«          «    Privation  of   261 

«          «    Restoration  to   261 

Necessity  and  Providence   679 

«      Cord  of   485 

«      of  Events   493 

«     of  Suffering   254 

Neginoth   357 

Neighbor,  Love  of   562 

Nest  of  Fools   523,  537 

New  Birth  '   125 

Newborn  Babes   J  26 

New  Creation   681 

Nimbleness  in  the  Ways  of  God   508 

Noah   268 

"    Obedience  of   270 

«    Saving  of   271 

Nourishment   127 

O. 

Oath  of  Supremacy  in  Scotland   19 

Oaths,  Multiplication  of   743 

Obedience   63,  67,  105,  404 

"        and  Grace   505 

"        for  Conscience'  Sake   486 

"        of  Faith   145 

Obedience  of  Heaven   607 

«             "        Cheerfulness  of   608 

"  "        flows  from  Reverence 

and  Love   621 

«             "        Hnimonyof   609 

"             "        Motives  to  the   621 

"             "        on  Earth,  prayed  for.  .  609 

«              "        Unanimity  of   609 

«             «        Universality  of   608 


794 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Paqe. 

Obedience  of  Noah   270 

"        lo  (Jod   505 

"     Activity  of   508 

«'           "     Alacrity  of   508 

«           "    Constancy  of   508 

"        to  Parents   632 

"        to  the  Gospel   325 

Object  of  Love   561 

Objects  of  preacliina;  the  Gospel   2;)6 

Obligations  from  the  Example  of  Christ.  . . .  185 

"         to  God   622 

Observation  of  Providence   523 

«                  "           Character  of   524 

«                  «          Privilege  of.   525 

"                  «          Wisdom  of   524 

Offerin?  of  Prayer   232 

Offices  in  the  Chu  ch   407 

Ointment,  precious,  a  Symbol  of  Christ   476 

"Old  Man,"  the   126 

Olympic  Games   507 

Operation  of  the  Word  of  God  131,500 

Opposition  to  Sin   225 

Oracles  of  God     311 

Oration,  valedictory   721 

Order  of  Prayer   597 

Ostentation   442 

P. 

naXiyytMTia   683 

Palsy,  the  Man  sick  of  the   436 

lU,ci,a   638 

Parable  of  the  Sower   500 

Pardon  prayed  for   613 

Parents,  Obedience  to   632 

n,w,l.;„   518 

Partakers  of  Glory   330 

Paths  of  Righteousness   236 

Patience  63,  184 

"       in  Suffering   185 

in  Tribulation   409 

"       of  Christ   186 

"       of  God   548,  557 

"       of  the  Saints   492 

Patient  Surt'erer   446 

Payment  of  Debts   487 

«     of  Tribute   486 

Peace   71 

«    Christian   356 

«    Ecclesiastical   73 

"    Seeking  of   226 

«    Sons  of   314 

Pearl  of  Great  Price   430 

Peculiar  People   148 

"  Pelagus  acjuarum"   472 

People  of  God   158 

Perfect  Tranquillity   659 

Perfecting  of  Holiness   504 

Perfection  and  Imperfection   527 

"       imperfect   67 

"       of  Christians   348 

"       of  Holiness   106 

«       threefold   67 

Perfomance  of  Redemption   114 

Peripatetic  Philosophers   671 

Perjury   639 

Persecuted  Christians   242 

Persecution   240 

Perseverance  in  Grace   348 

in  Prayer   430 

Persian  Soldier   365 

Persius   363 


Paob. 

Pestilence  of  1665   282 

Peter — 

"    a  Copresbyter   3i9 

«    Desire  of   72 

"    Inscription  by   63 

"    Office  of   64 

"    Salutation  by   63 

"    Title  of   64 

«    Wife's  Mother  of   433 

"        «        "     cure  of   433 

Peter  Martyr   455 

'hoiriwids   519 

Pharisees,  vain  glory  of   427 

Philosopher's  Stone   486 

4*nol'l)^(a   481 

Piety  of  Ministers   577 

Pilgrims   163 

Pious  Invocation   595 

Pity   214 

Platonists,  notions  of   672 

Pleasure,  Lovers  of   482 

Pleasures  in  the  World   529 

"      of  Religion   666 

nXfOi/£^ia   638 

Plutarch  '  346 

"Polar  Splendor"  the   571 

Politian   365 

Pollution  of  Sin   66 

Poverty  of  Spirit   425 

Power  ascribed  to  God   354 

«     of  God   81,700 

"     of  Jesus   436 

«     of  Religion   686 

"     of  Sin.                                     198,  562 

Praise   138 

Praise  of  God                                      353,  617 

"          "    Directions  lor  the   354 

Praises  to  God   484 

Prayer  209,  228,  372,  421,  427,  428,  430 

"     Acceptance  of   232 

"     Answers  to   234 

«     Art  of   541 

"     Babbling  in   428 

«     Blessings  of   232 

"     Breathing  of  Hope   619 

"     Brevity  in   597 

«     Confidence  in   602 

"     Continuance  in   410 

"     Delight  in   232 

«     Described   298 

"     Dignity  of                    232,  236,  299,  595 

"     Disappointment  in   228 

«     Duty  of                             232,  235,  595 

«     Eft'ects  of   300 

«     Ejaculatory   291 

«     Elevation  of  Soul  in   602 

"     Equily  of.   299 

«     Exercise  of.   232 

"     Faith  in   396 

«     Fervency  of                        234,  395,  430 

"     for  Daily  Bread   610 

"  "  comprises  Godliness, 

Moderation,  Piety, 

and  Soberness. . .  .611,  612 

for  Deliverance  from  Tempio'jon. . .  616 

«     for  Pardon   612 

«     Form  of   596 

«     Formality  in   430 

«     Graces  of   234 

«     Hearing  of                               232,  234 

«    Hindrances  to   209 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


795 


Paoe.  I 

Prayer,  Humble  Boldness  in   602' 

«     Humility  in   395 

"     Importunity  in   396 

«     Manner  oi'   596 

•«     Matter  of   597 

«     of  the  Saints   138 

«     Order  of   597 

"     Perseverance  in   430 

.  Precautions  before   233 

«     Qualifications  for   232 

«     Slotlifulness  in   234 

"     Strength  of   541 

«     Utility  of   299,  595 

«     Wanderinssin   233,  541 

"     Way  to  offer   232 

Prayers... 702,  708,  709,  711,  713,  714,  716,  717, 

  719,  721,  722,  734,  735 

Preacher  of  Righteousness   268 

Preachers,  Ensamples   333 

«       Reward  of   334 

Preaching — 

"       Ambition  in   333 

"       and  Baptism   417 

"       Coflstrainedness  of   332 

"       Covetousness  respecting   333 

«       Criticism  on  by  Leigh  ton   21 

"       Exemplary  Temper  in   332 

«       of  Christ   266 

«       of  the  Gospel   294,  311,  479 

«  "        Object  of   296,  312 

«       Qualities  of   311 

"       Ready  Mind  for   332 

«       Willingness  for   332 

Precautions  before  Prayer   233 

Pkeckpts   619 

«       Prerape  to   620 

«       Division  of   622 

«       Excellency  of  '   620 

«       Perfection  of   621 

«       Profit  of     622 

«      Style  of   622 

Precept  1   622 

«       Command  of   623 

"       Profaneness  forbidden  by   624 

"       Prohibitions  of   624 

«       Scope  of   623 

«       Sense  of   623 

"       Sins  against   623 

Precept  n   625 

"       Commands  of   626 

«       Enforcement  of   627 

"       Prohibitions  of   626 

"       Tenor  of   625 

Precept  IN   627 

"       Commffnds  of   629 

"        Coininination  of   628 

«       Conlrnis  of   627 

«       Prohibitions  of   628 

Precept  IV   629 

«       Obedience  of   629 

«       Observance  of    631 

"       Reason  of   629 

«       Scope  f.f   62!) 

«       Violations  of   631 

Precept  V   631 

"       Commands  of   632 

«       Meaning  of   631 

"       Obedience  to  Parents  enforced  by  632 

«*       Ordfrof   631 

"       Prohibitions  of   632 

«       Promise  of   631 


Precept  VI  ''633 

"       Improvement  of   634 

"       Requisitions  of   633 

«       Scope  of    633 

Precept  VII   634 

"       Rules  of   635 

Precept  VIII   636 

"       Requirements  of   637 

"       Sins  against   638 

Precept  IX   638 

"       Ei:d  of   638 

"       Offences  against   640 

"       Perjury  condemned  by   639 

"       Prohibitions  of   639 

Precept  X   640 

"       Observance  of   642 

"       Romish  division  of   640 

«       Subjects  of   641 

"       Transgressions  of   641 

Preciousness  of  Christ   147 

Preface  by  Doddridge   59 

"     to  Theological  Lectures   645 

Preference  of  otheis   408 

Prelacy   724 

Preparation  for  the  Communion   704 

«        of  the  Ark   270 

"        of  the  Heart   233 

Presbyterian  Eloquence  displayed   50 

Presence  of  Christ   457,  459 

"       God   701 

Present  Duty   558 

Preservation  of  the  Godly   271 

Pretences  to  P'aitli   144 

Pretenders  to  the  Ministry   576 

Pride  of  Man   123 

Priesthood,  Christians  a  Holy   134,  137,  148 

"        Spiritual   137 

"Primum  visibile"   460 

Prison  of  Hell   424 

Prison,  Spirits  in  the   265,  267 

Privilege  of  observing  Divine  Providence. . .  523 

Privileges  of  the  Children  of  God   342 

"       Spiritual   535 

Privy  Trials  of  Ministers   729 

Profanation  of  the  Lord's  Day   604 

"        of  the  Name  of  God   603 

Profane  Speech   220 

Profaneness   624 

Prolilable  Discourse   223 

Progress  in  (.'race   348 

Promises,  Application  of   133 

"      Belief  of   133 

«      of  God   504 

"      to  Holiness   505 

Prophccv,  fulfilment  of   423 

"    '   of  Balaam   414 

Prophets  and  Law   425 

'<     Benefits  of   98 

"     Diligence  of   97 

«     Extent  of   98 

"     False   431 

"     Search  by   97 

"     Success  in   9? 

Pio|)itiatory,  the   366 

Prosperity  of  Fools   250 

"       of  the  Ungodly   463 

Protection  of  God   241 

Proud,  resistance  to  the   337- 

Providence   450,  665 

"       Belief  in   342 

"       Observation  of   523 


79(J 


IMDLX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Page. 

Providence  of  llie  Lord   23 1 

Prudence  of  Ministers   578 

Psalm  iv.,  Meditations  on   357 

"     xxxii.        "    3(i5 

"     xxxix.  Lectures  on   385 

"     cxxx.  Meditations  on   370 

Punif linit-nt,  eternal   690 

Pure  Conscience   581 

Pursalion  of  Sin   400 

Punliciitioii   66 

Purifying  I'aitli   144 

Purity  in  Heart   425 

"     of  action   44 1 

«     of  God   443 

«     of  Life   702 

Purpose  of  Redemption                           113,  440 

Purveyors  Ibr  the  Flesh   522 

"  Put  on  the  Lord  Jesus"                        521,  523 

Pythagoras   362 

Q. 

Qualifications  for  Prayer   232 

"          of  Brotherly  Love   116 

"          of  Ministers   577 

Qualities  of  Preachinu;   311 

Quickening  of  Christ  by  the  Spirit.   264 

R. 

Readiness  of  Chrsliains   250 

Reading  of  the  Scriptures   730 

Readv  inind  for  Preaching   333 

Rebecca   336 

Rebel  against  God   481 

Rebukes  from  God   394 

Receivins  of  the  Trutli   288 

Reconciliation,  Ministry  of   575 

"           with  God   73 

Redemption,  Application  of   114 

"        Object  of   440 

"        Performance  of   114 

«       Purpose  of   113 

Reformation,  external   253 

Regeneration,  Character  of   118,  681 

"          Dignity  of   121 

«          Duration  of   121 

«          Laver  of   75 

"          Necessity  of   687 

«          Origin  of   121 

««          Seed  of   121 

Rejection  of  Christ   146 

Rejoicing  in  God   534 

"      in  Hope   409 

«      of  Christians   316 

Relation  between  Sobriety,  Watchfulness, 

and  Prayer   301 

Religion,  Enemies  of   251 

«      False   443 

"      Identity  of   252 

«      Pleasure  of   666 

«      Power  of   686 

«      Rules  of   700 

"      Sense  of,  universal   660 

«      Utility  of   666 

«      Way  to  Happiness   690 

Religious  Delay   434 

"          "    F.xcuses  for   434 

Remedy  for  Evil  Speaking   221 

Remission  of  Sins   394 

Removal  of  Guiltiness   200 

Renouncing  of  Baptism   278 

Eepentance   368,  394,  418 


Pass. 

Repentance  and  Deliverance   518 

«        Effects  of   420 

"        Fruits  of   419 

«        Preaching  of   418,  423 

Reproach  for  Christ    318 

Resistance  to  the  Proud   337 

"       to  the  Devil   346 

Resolution   103 

Rest  and  returning   546 

Restoration  to  Happiness   200 

Resurrection  of  Christ   276,  280 

"         of  Jesus   76,586 

«         of  the  Body   593 

«         Spiritual   685 

Return  to  the  Right  Way   200 

Returning  and  Rest   546 

Revelation  of  Jesus  Christ   101 

Revenge   217,  426 

Reverence  in  Preaching   311 

Reverence  of  God   629 

Reviling   285,  426 

Riches   528 

«     of  God's  Grace   483 

Righteous,  the   227 

RigliieousnesSy  Life  to    196 

«  of  Christ   458 

«  Paths  of   236 

"  Sacrifices  of   138,  362 

«  to  Men   631 

Riot,  excess  of   292 

Rioting   520 

"  Rivers  of  Waters"   47 1 

Romanists  at  Douay   746 

Romans  xii.,  Lecture  on   404 

Rome,  Mother  of  Abominations   170 

«    Sin  of  •   577 

"     Superstitions  of   170 

Royal  Priesthood   453 

Royalty  of  Christ   414 

Rule  of  Equity   430 

"  of  Holiness   240 

Rules  for  a  Holy  Life   732 

«    for  Evil  Speaking   251 

S. 

Sabbath  Day,  Sanctification  of   629 

Sacrament,  a  light   417 

"        Description  of   273 

"        Mistakes  concerning   274 

Sacrifice  of  Ourselves,  Body  and  Soul,  to  God 

through  Christ   139,  140 

Sacrifices  of  Righteousness   138,  139,  362 

Sad  condition  of  Man   S15 

"          Cause  of  it   518 

Sad  Supposition   532 

Safety  of  Grace   337 

Satnts — Blessedness  of   70 

"       Communion  of   591 

«       Company  of   256 

"       Courage  of   492 

«       Delight  of   525 

"       Example  of   256 

«       Patience  of   492 

"       Prayers  of   133 

Sallust   251 

Salt  of  the  Earth                                 .   •  42L 

Salutation  by  Peter   6( 

Salvation  70,  91,  95 

"     of  God   549 

SANCTiFrcATFOK   67,  68,  117,  457 

"           Means  of   117 


/ 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


797 


Page. 

Sanctification — Nature  of   118 

»          Seat  of   117 

«           Worker  of   1J8 

Sanctifying  of  God  in  the  Heart   243 

«         of  God's  Name   603 

Sarah   207 

"    Dau^aters  of   207 

Satan,  a  Liar   422 

«      Ma>  ice  of   436 

«     Slaves  of   505 

"     Strongholds  of   504 

Saving  ol' Noah   271 

Savior   680 

"     Administration  of  the   424 

«     Public  Calling  of  the   423 

Schoolmasters  of  Luther  »  421 

Scotland,  Prelacv  in   724 

«       Stale  of   29 

"            •'     during  the  Commonwealth  745 

Scottish  assertory  Act   26 

"      Indulgence   26 

"      League  and  Covenant   31 

"      Oath  of  Supremacy   19 

"      Prelacy,  Scheme  of   18 

"      Presbyterian  Eloquence  displayed . .  50 

Scribes,  cavils  of   437 

Scripture — Abuse  of   423 

"         Character  of   697 

«        Cited  by  the  Devil   422 

«        Divinity  of   696 

«        Doctrine  of   697 

«         Evidences  of   696 

"         Harmony  of   411 

«        Reading' of   730 

"        Style  of   697 

«        Sublimity  of   697 

«        Testimony  to   697 

"        Use  of   423 

"        Word  of  God   460 

Secrecy  in  doing  good   427 

Secret  of  State   439 

Seed  of  the  Word   500 

Seeking  of  Peace   226 

"     the  Kingdom  of  God   429 

Seers   444 

Self-cleansing   503 

Self-deception   431 

Self-denial   405 

Self-examination   336 

Self-love                                             305,  449 

Self-righteousness   425 

Seneca                                  128,  366,  370,  498 

Sense  of  Religion  aniversal   660 

"    of  the  Law   426 

Separation  from  God  by  Sin   518 

Sermons   441-580 

"       Believer,  the,  a  Hero   495 

"       Calamities  Interpreted   554 

«       Christ  the  Light  and  Lustre  of  the 

Church   454,  459 

«       Christian  Triumph   509,  512 

"       Confession  of  Faith   550 

«       Confidence  of  Faith  :  531 

"       Contempt  Punished   545 

"       Divine  Glory  of  Sion,  the   450 

"       Docile  Sufferer,  the   446 

«       Folly  of  Man,  the   541 

«       Generous  Grief   470 

"       God's  End  and  Design  in  Affliction  564 

"       Goodness  of  God   513 

"      Grace  and  Obedience   505 


Page. 

Sermons — Grapes  from. Thorns   490 

"       Heavenly  Wisdom   441 

"       Holiness   503 

"       Hope  amid  Billows   464 

"       Imperfection   527 

"       Law  the,  written  upon  the  Heart  562 

"       Love  the  fulfilling  of  the  Law. ...  560 

"       Mercy  despised   545 

"       Name  the,  of  Jesus  fragrant   475 

"       Observation  of  Providence   523 

«       Parable  of  the  Sower   500 

«       Patient  Sufferer,  the   446 

«       Perfection   527 

"       Prayer  of  Faith   550 

«       Present  Duty   558 

"       Sinner  the,  a  Rebel  against  God. .  481 

"       Spiritual  Privileges   535 

«       Suitable  Exercise  in  Affliction   569 

«       Teaching  of  God   541 

«       Time  to  Awake    519 

«       To  the  Clergy   574 

«       True  Christian  a,  the  best  Subject  484 

"       Wickedness  of  Man   515 

Serpentine  Wisdom   442 

Servants   178 

«      Duty  of   179 

«        «    extent  of   180 

"        "    Principle  of   181 

«      of  God   172 

Service  of  the  Lord   409 

«     of  the  World   428 

«              «      fruitless   429 

"              "      impossible  for  a  Christian  428 

«              "      needless    423 

«              «      Unworthine.ss  of   428 

Servile  Fear  ;   177 

Settling  of  Christians   348 

Shadow  of  Death   423 

Sharp,  Character  of   14 

Shechem,  .Men  of  *.   486 

Shechinah   539 

Shining  of  the  Church   457 

"              "        Constancy  of   458 

«              "        Humbleness  of   458 

"              "        Progression  of   458 

Short  Catechism   643 

"Shot  Proof"   463 

Signs  of  Christ's  Royalty   417 

Simplicity   442 

Sin — and  Calamity   518 

"    and  Ignorance   10.5 

"    and  Impenitence   565 

«    Bearing  of  by  Christ   193 

"    Cessation  from   284 

«    Chains  of   285 

"    Confession  of.   369 

«    Covering  of   366 

«    Death  to   193 

"    Deformity  of   396 

«    Drudgery  of   172 

«    Forgiveness  of   437,  440,  592 

«    Guiltiness  of   562 

«    Nature  of   472 

"    of  Germany   577 

«    of  Rome  ^   577 

«    of  the  Heart   641 

«    Opposition  to   225 

"    Pollution  of   66 

"    Power  of   562 

«    Purged   400 

"    Stain  of   66 


798 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Page. 

Sin- -the  Cause  of  Affliction   5()5 

•'    Transfer  oi' to  Christ   liH 

"    Wnsies  of   172 

"    Weiiihl  of   HK) 

Sin-ileness  of  Heart   427 

Sinner,  the   481 

"     a  Rebel   484 

"     a  Wandering  Sheep   199 

«     Wretched  State  of   440  ' 

Sinners,  Comfort  of   440 

«     Dea.l   157 

"     Misery  of   157 

sins.  Forgiveness  of   592  ! 

"   of  the  Tongue   387 

«  of  the  UniTotlly  '  471 

Sitting  of  Jesus  at  the  Ri^ht  Hand  of  God.  587 

Slaves  of  Satan   505 

Sleep  and  Death   4n6 

"    Arisins  from   456 

"    Avoidinsof   700 

"    Brother  to  Death   519 

"   of  Impenitence   456 

Slothfnlness  in  Business   408 

"        in  Praver   234 

"Small  Stars"   458 

Sobriety   102,  301,  344,  700 

Society,  Choice  of.   222 

"     of  Heaven   659 

Softness  of  Heart   474 

Solemn  League  and  Covenant   31,  724 

Solomon....  449,  507 

Sons  of  God   505 

■'    of  Peace   314 

Sophocles   443 

r '■>/.»„  T,,,-;,   701 

Sorrows  of  Christians   82 

"      of  the  Godly   472 

Soul,  the  Committed  to  God   326 

"   Ground  of   328 

"   Immortality  of .  .  .•   655  ' 

«   Loss  of   464  ' 

«   Tumult  of   416; 

6oul  — Fillhiness   279  \ 

Sovir-jr,  the  Parable  of.   500 

Spp-xkers  of  Evil   251 

Sneakins,  force  of   431 

«      of  Evil   219 

.S-fech,  Bridle  of  the   222 

"     Fruitless   220 

"   '  Immoderate   701 

«     Profane   220 

«      Uncharitable   220 

"      Vain   220 

Spirit,  Filthiness  of  the   504 

Spirit,  Fruits  of  the   557 

Spirit,  Leailing  by  the   421 

Spirit  of  Glory   321 

Spirit  of  (Jo,!,  Work  of   69 

Spirit  of  .ludsment   454 

Spirits  in  Prison   265,  267 

Spiritual  Death.   4.56 

Spiritual  Doubtinss   144 

Spiritual  Knowledge   160 

Spiritual  Life   130,  288 

Spiritual-Mimied  Christians   .520 

Spiritna'i-Mindedness   291 

Spiritual  Priesthood   137 

«  Office  of.   137 

«  "        Service  of.   138 

«  "       Success  of   139 

Spiritual  Privileges   535 


Paoe 

Spiritual  Resurrection   684 

Spiritual  Sacrifices                                 138,  139 

Spiritual  Sense  of  the  Law   426 

Spiritual  Wickedness   504 

Spotlessness  of  Christ   186 

Sprinklinir,  Use  of.   66 

Stability  of  the  Church   492 

Stain  of  Sin   66 

Star-Chamber   740 

Star  of  Bethlehem   414 

Stars   459 

Stalte-secret   439 

Steadfastness  in  the  Faith   347 

Stoics,  the   371 

«    Notions  of   672 

Stony  Ground.   501 

Strait  Gate,  the   430 

Strenath  of  Faith   572 

Strensthenin?  of  Christians   348 

Strife  and  Envy   520 

Strongholds  of  Satan   504 

Students,  exhortations  to   706 

Stumblers  at  the  Word   146 

Style  of  the  Scriptures   697 

Subject,  the  best   484 

Subjection,  mutual   335 

Submission  to  Civil  Power   169 

"        to  God   394 

Success  of  the  Word   502 

Sufferer,  the   446 

Sufferins   184 

SuH'erins;  of  Christians   240,  243,  319 

«      Fear  of   243 

"      for  Righteousness   241 

"     Necessity  of   254 

"     of  Jesus   585 

Sufferings  of  Christ   96,  188,  256 

"       Cause  of   259 

"      Consideration  of   256 

"      End  of.   193 

Sun  of  Righteousness   413,  457 

Sun,  the,  a  Symbol  of  Christ   461 

Superiors,  Duty  to  ; . . . .  632 

Supernatural  Grace   687 

Superstition   443 

Supplicatins  of  Goil   429 

Supreme  Object  of  Love   561 

Swearing   426 

«       profane   604,  628 

Symbol  of  Christ   461 

Sympathy   212 

T. 

Tables  of  the  Law   620 

"  Take  heed  how  you  hear"   502 

•'Taking  heed  to  our  Ways"   386 

Tasting  bv  Christians   133 

Teaching  of  God   541 

Tears  of  the  Godly   473 

Temperance   102,  700 

Temple,  Christians  a   134 

Temple  of  God   395 

Temple,  the  Spiritual   134 

"       «    Foundation  Stone  of.   135 

«       «    Materials  of   135 

"      «    Nature  of   134 

«      "    Structure  of.   136 

TEMPTATtON   82,  422,  616 

"        Deliverance  from,  Prayed  for, . ,  616 

«        of  Chri.st   421 

«        Comfort  from   423 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


799 


Page 

422 

« 

616 

368 

697 

636 

645 

66 

66 

Authority  of  the  Scriptures 

694 

U 

66 

Before  the  Communion.... 

704 

<e 

66 

660 

« 

66 

680 

u 

66 

Christian  Religion,  the  way 

690 

« 

66 

o74 

« 

66 

Creation  of  the  World. . .. 

670 

« 

66 

668 

« 

66 

698 

u 

66 

688 

«' 

66 

694 

« 

66 

694 

u 

(6 

650 

w 

66 

Happiness  of  the  Life  to 

658 

<( 

66 

Holiness  the  only  Happi- 

693 

(( 

66 

Hurnan  felicity  not  on  earth 

652 

» 

66 

Immortality  of  the  Soul .  . . 

655 

66 

64<) 

« 

66 

664 

« 

66 

Life  According  to  the  Rules 

700 

M 

66 

645 

a 

66 

Providence      .  664 

676 

66 

702 

« 

66 

Regeneration 682 

685 

« 

<C 

Religion,    Pleasure  and 

666 

(( 

Scriptures,  Authority  of... 

0^4 

« 

66 

688 

« 

66 

True  Way  to  Happiness.. 

oyu 

« 

66 

664 

66 

Theology,  Definition  of. . . 

O'.oa-vyfi 

«lliicl<Pts 

of  I" 

443 

Thorny  Ground 

501 

Thou-hts,  Evil. 

490 

"      of  Sin 

641 

Time  to  Awake 

519 

ToniTue,  Sins  of  the   

387 

73 

66 

659 

79 

Treasures  of  Es 

463 

Trees  of  R 

Trial  of  Faith, 

"    «  End  of 

87 

Trials  and 

Tribulat  ion 

67 

6i 

409 

486 

Trinily,  Myster\ 

of  the  

664 

531 

Trinmph,  I 

512 

Tnie  Christian, 

484 

688 

495 

497 

66 

497 

66 

498 

Trust  in  the  Jyord   

Truth  of  th 

692 

Page. 

Truth,  Reception  of  the   285 

"     the  Word  of   68 

D. 

Unanimity  ,   210 

Unbelief     145 

Unbelievers,  misery  of   146 

Uncharitable  Speech   220 

Understanding  of  the  Divine  Law   620 

Ungodly,  the — 

«  Candle  of   464 

"  Character  of   545 

«  Evil  Tongues  of   251 

"  Prospects  of   464 

"  Sins  of   470 

«  Way  of   255 

Unholy  Persons,  Converse  of   439 

Union  of  Believers  wilh  Christ   191 

«     to  God   263 

Universal  Desire  for  Happiness   658 

"       Judgment   589 

«       Sense  of  Religion   660 

Unjust  Dealing,  cause  of   637 

Unpersuasion   146 

Use  of  God's  Name   629 

Use  of  Scripture   423 

Utility  of  Prayer   236,  299,  595 

Utility  of  Religion   666 

V. 

yain  Conversation   110 

"  "  Redemption  from   112 

Vain  Disquietude   428 

Vain  Glory,  desire  of   427 

Vain  Speech   220 

Vanity,  Love  of   360 

Vanily  of  Man   121,  390 

Valedictory  Oration   721 

Vigilance   345 

Vigor  of  Body  and  Mind  .•   659 

Virgins,  the   479 

Vision  beatific  of  God   t)59 

Vision  of  Isaiah   398 

Visitation,  day  of   169 

Vocation   70 

W. 

Wages  of  Sin   172 

Wailing  for  the  Lord   3.50,  392 

Waldenses,  the   166,  248 

Walking  as  in  the  presence  of  God   701 

"       directed   519 

«       honestly,  as  in  the  day   520 

Wandering  Sheep   199 

Wanderings  in  Prayer   233,  641 

Wantonness   520 

\i  Kt  against  the  Soul   164 

Warning  by  God   269 

Watch-bell,  the   519 

Watchfulness   .  102,  345,  700 

"         to  Prayer   301 

Watchman  of  Isiael   435 

Way  of  Affliclion   566 

Way  of  God's  Commandments   505 

"         "     excellency  of  the   .509 

Way  of  Happiness   430,  692  , 

Wav  of  Peace   509 

Way  of  Sin   2.59 

Way  lo  Happiness  by  Religion   690 

Ways  of  God   509 

"  "    Cheerfulness  in   509,  608 


soo  INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Page,  i 

Ways  of  God,  End  of   509 

«  "    Evenness  in   508 

"  "    Nimbleness  in   508 

Westminster  Assembly   7'2,'i 

Wheels  of  the  Soul  ^   572 

White  Gaiinenls   521 

Wickedness  of  Man  ,   515 

Wild  Ass  Colt   523 

Will  of  God   171,  287,  607 

"       "    Knowledge  of   288 

"       "    Our  Rule   289 

Willinsfness  for  Preachin?   332 

Wisdom   108,  441 

"     and  Worth   529 

"     Devilish   442 

'<     Earthlv   442 

"     Excellence  of   442 

"      Gentleness  of   442 

"      Heavenly   441 

"     Impartiality  of   442 

"     in  Preaching   311 

"     Natural....   442 

"      Not  Censorious   442 

«     of  God   700 

"     Origin  of.   443 

«     Peaceable  .-   441 

.  "     Purity  of   441,  444 

«     Sensual   442 

'<     Serpentine   442 

«     Sincerity  of   442 

«     Undissembling   44^ 

"     Unostentatious   442 

Witchcraft   624 

Witness,  False   4«9 

Wives   202 

«    Chastity  of   204 

«    Conversation  of   204 

«    Daughters  of  Sarah   207 

«    Duty  of   202 

«    Fear  of  '.   205 

"    Guilelessness  of  Spirit  of   206 

«    Weakness  of.   206,  207 

«   Modesty  of   205 

*    Ornaments  of   205,  206 


Paoc 

Wives,  Subjection  of   £03,  204 

"  Wonderful,"  Jesus  the   413 

Word,  the   123 

"     "   a  Light   417 

"     "  Dispensation  ol".   500 

«     «   Hearing  of   502 

«     «   Nature  of   600 

«     «  of  God   123 

«     "  of  Truth   68 

«     «  Operation  of  131,501 

«     «  Seed  of   500 

«     «   Stumbling  at   146 

«     "  Success  of   502 

"     "  Sweetness  of   134 

Work  of  the  Spirit  of  God   69 

Works  Good,  Merits  of.   376 

Works  of  Charity   138 

Works  of  Christ   431 

Works  of  God  in  Creation   383 

World,  the 

«       «  Course  of   292 

«       «  Creation  of   381,  670 

«       "  Service  of   428 

«       «       «     Fruitless   429 

"       "      "     Impossible  for  a  Christian  428 

«       «      «     Needless   429 

"       «  Unworthiness  of   428 

Worship  of  Christ  413,  416 

Worship  of  God  450,  454,  664,  726 

Wrath  of  Man   490,492 

«  «    Event  of   491 

<•  "    Limitation  of   494 

«  "    INJade  to  Praise  God   492 

Wretchedness  of  Sinners   436 

Writing  of  the  Law  of  God  on  the  Heart....  563 
«  "  "  «  «  Necessity  of  it...  563 
«        «        «        "    Writer  the,  of...  564 

Y. 

Youth   334 

Z. 

Zeal,  Imprudent    429 

I  Zion's  Plea  against  Prelacy   8,  73? 


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